#I guess it makes sense considering the rumours that he either straight up did not even meet with the coyotes

[sethjarvy]

"but he's not gonna play with the flyers until 2026!!"

1. that's 3 more years of full on tank

2. that means stacking up with high draft picks

3. he's gonna join this team when the rebuild is almost done

4. who the fuck cares we got a generational talent who was the only worthy competitor to connor fucking bedard

thinking about michkov and how he fits perfectly into the flyers rebuild timeline

[meltwonu]

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ spells ✦

this chapter pairing; wizard!hoshi x reader

genre&warnings; wizard!hoshi, softdom!hoshi, oral(fem receiving), virgin!reader, fingering, good ‘ol lighthearted fucking😩, squirting.

notes; lets be real hoshi with magical abilities would be chaos kjdfhkdf🥴 also I know, I know, I wish I could hyperlink the previous chapters into each post but tumb1r rly seems to fuckin hate my account and hides my posts from tags for no reason as it is and RLY hates it when I start hyperlinking posts with the same links so I'll just try to keep my series masterlist updated from here on out!! you can also find my monster mash fics with the hashtag monstermash!svt on my blog!🎃💕 Thank you as always for your continued interest and see you tomorrow~! 👻 

word count; ~2800

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

boy you put your spell on me, there’s something about you;

‘cause even in the sleepless nights, i’m thinkin’ about you.

well i think it’s magic with you,

oh i think it’s magic.

yeah i think it’s magic with you.

You’ve known Soonyoung since the two of you were kids.

He played with you in the lavender fields and kept you company on rainy nights when the thunder scared you out of your wits.

Soonyoung lived in a cottage on the outskirts of the town now that the two of you were adults and he preferred to keep to himself; all things considered.

The townspeople weren’t really too fond of Soonyoung’s kind -- rumours of the magical beings causing havoc and destruction more prevalent than anything else. 

And for that reason alone, you most often offered to help Soonyoung gather necessities from the town and in trade, he would let you hang around his cottage while he would work on restoring old spell books. He almost never actually cast any spells or showed you anything he could do with his magic, but you were patient and understanding of his uncommon situation. 

And not only do you know Soonyoung, but you liked Soonyoung.

Even though he seemed quite oblivious to the fact.

You shake your head in thought, picking out a few more apples and adding them to your basket before you start the long walk towards Soonyoung’s cottage.

You soon see the smoke billowing from the chimney of Soonyoung cottage; jogging up the steps as you fish for the spare key he’d given you.

When you enter, the smell of cinnamon and old books welcomes you in like it’s your own and you immediately head for the kitchen to start setting aside the groceries you’d gotten. “Soonyoung!? Where are you?” You yell, giving it a second for him to respond. You’re met with silence, confusion written all over your features.

It was quite unlike Soonyoung to be missing when he knew you were coming.

You look around the kitchen, finding a warm kettle filled with tea. He must’ve just stepped out for a second.

Shaking your head, you reach for a cup on the countertop, fixing yourself a cup of tea as you wait for Soonyoung to come back from wherever he had gone. You take a sip, sighing in contentment at the warmness that floods your system.

You quickly down the rest of the cup, setting it back onto the counter as you make your way towards his bedroom in hopes of finding him.

“Soonyoung? Where are you?” An odd feeling washes over you the further you walk into his house, unable to find a single hint of where he could be. He was almost always in the living area or the kitchen when you came by.

 You knock on his bedroom door as you call out his name again; still not getting a reply back even when you slowly pry the door open.

He’s nowhere to be found, so you take a seat on top of his bed, brows furrowed. Where on earth?

You decide to lay down for a second, removing your shoes and outer clothes before resting your head on the pillow.

Surely Soonyoung wouldn’t mind, seeing as he’s not even here.

Your eyelids feel heavier than usual; yawning loudly as you get comfortable.

When you wake up, you don’t know how much time has pass or if time has passed at all.

All you know is that it’s unbearably hot.

“Wh--what…” You mumble, sitting up as you wipe the sweat from your brow. A soft moan floats out of your mouth, body filled with a certain warmth you only knew when you were thinking about Soonyoung late at night.

“What is going on…”

You clench your jaw, hiking your dress further and further up until you can run your fingertips over your clothed cunt; finding yourself already soaking through the material as it sticks to you like a second skin. “What---”

A sharp door slam knocks you out of your confusion as you hurriedly push your dress down. You hear Soonyoung yelling your name a second later, biting your lip to keep in the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth.

What was going on!?

Soonyoung comes to view as he steps into the doorway; a crimson blush on his cheeks when he finds you in his bed.

“What did you do?” He whispers, barely loud enough for you to catch it.

“S--Soonyoung…” You whimper, unable to keep your voice straight as another gush of wetness pools in your panties. “I--s--something’s weird…”

“Did---did you drink… the tea in the k-kettle…” You nod shakily, tears pooling in your eyes. “I---was I not s-supposed to?”

Soonyoung exhales harshly as he steps into the bedroom, closing it behind him as he sits across from you on the bed. “How much did you drink of it?”

“A--a cup…?”

“A whole cup?”

“Y-yeah…”

Soonyoung grimaces, “That was… an aphrodisiac. I--I used my magic to make it stronger, I didn’t think---I didn’t think it’d work…”

Fuck.

You let out a small mewl, thighs rubbing together underneath your dress. “Why were you m-making that, S-Soonyoung?”

A blush coats his cheeks, suddenly embarrassed. Why exactly?

“No reason, I just---I got curious. I wasn’t… expecting you so early so I stepped out to get more herbs from Minghao’s garden. I was supposed to have it set away before you came.”

A tense silence falls over the two of you, neither of you making a move. Soonyoung clears his voice a few moments later, “I---I might be able to undo it with a spell but I’m not sure if it’ll work. I never tried it before and---and I don’t really know how to fix this, if I’m being honest.”

This time it’s your turn to blush, desperation clear on your features when you lock eyes with the said male.

“Can---can you h-help me… Soonyoung?”

He feels his cock throb in his pants, hands balling up into fists in his lap. “I--I can’t do that to you. You don’t even see me that way and I… I’ll go through the spell books, there has to be---”

“God, please! Soonyoung, I need you! Please, I-if it’s… If it means anything to you, I--I do like you…”

He clenches his jaw, taking in your blown out pupils and flushed cheeks. “You… like me?”

“I--yes… For a while now, actually.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” He asks, fingertips itching to strip himself of his clothes. “I guess I shouldn’t pry. I didn’t say anything either, did I sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.

Your heart pangs in your chest at the sudden pet name, thighs clamping together harder when his voice drops an octave. “Soonyoung, please…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

This wasn’t necessarily Soonyoung’s ideal situation when it came to telling you his feelings.

He would’ve much preferred something romantic and not you accidentally downing one of his experiments.

“Ah, Soon---Soonyoung, more, m-more!” Your hips buck up, trying to get him to go faster. He slowly flicks at your clit with his tongue, using his hands to keep your body firm against the sheets. “Stop moving, or I’ll stop, sweetheart.” A choked cry bubbles past your lips, fingers itching to lock into his soft hair. He senses your urges, lips settling into a grin when he stops to look up at you.

“Say, you’re always complaining I never show you any of my magic.” He starts, “I’ll show you something really cool.”

He mumbles words you can’t seem to catch and in an instant, you feel your arms pinned to your sides and a pressure on your hips that keeps you still. “I didn’t think I’d need to use that spell quite like this but…” Soonyoung chuckles under his breath, leaning back down as he goes back to flicking your clit with his tongue.

“But---but Soonyoung… Please… Your f-fingers…”

“Oh? Do you want me to use my fingers while I make you feel good with my tongue?” You nod, licking your chapped lips when he stares up at you from between your legs. You had to get him to do more somehow.

“Y-yeah… I--I use my fingers all the time when I’m thinking about y-you…” That should do it.

Soonyoung goes rigid, cock throbbing against the sheets underneath him. “You… what?” You whimper, struggling against the invisible spell that binds you to the bed. “Mmhmm… I’d--I’d show you but I can’t… So you have to…” He shakes his head, bringing his fingers to his mouth before he wraps his lips around them. He makes sure they’re significantly wet before he positions two at your entrance.

“You really got me there, huh, sweetheart?”

A high pitched whine falls from your lips when he starts to sink in his digits; your wetness making it easy for him to sink them knuckle deep on the first try. “Oh, god! Soonyoung!” He’s mildly shocked at how wet you are and how tight your pussy is around his fingers, but he quickly finds a pace you like as he starts thrusting his fingers inside of you. “So you think about me? What exactly do you think about?”

He curls his fingers, watching your lips part in a silent scream when he grazes against your g-spot. “Sweetheart, I asked you a question. I expect a response, okay?”

“I---s--sometimes it’s just, mmh, like---like this… With your fingers deep inside me, making me feel so g-good… But--but sometimes, ah, I--it’s me on your l-lap…” You pause, abdomen tightening with each passing second. “You’re usually really s-sweet in my imagination but…”

“But?”

“But some--ngh, sometimes you… punish me t-too… when I go through your things without your p-permission… Mmh, and---and sometimes you use your magic, just like thi--this to keep me in my place... Oh, god, Soonyoung please, I’m so close!”

He grits his teeth, thumb on your clit in an instant. “Oh? So you want me to use my magic to make you feel good? Okay.” Grinning, he focuses some of his energy into the pad of his thumb; rubbing harsh circles on the swollen nub as you cry out. 

It felt like electricity was coursing through your body, tingles going up and down your spine as you cum hard on his fingers. Soonyoung’s name rolls off of your tongue and he can’t help but watch and think how pretty you were when you were cumming.

“Cute.”

Soonyoung recites a spell in the midst of your orgasm and you feel your body go slack when the invisible restraints finally free you. He sits up, slowly pulling his fingers from inside of you and he brings them to his mouth, licking off your wetness as you watch him through teary eyes.

“Soonyoung, I’m still…”

“I know, baby.”

He repositions himself between your legs, spreading your legs wide. “If it hurts---”

You groan loudly, reaching down as you hold yourself open for him. “Soonyoung, I bet you could just slide right in with how soaking wet I am… Look at me...” He shoots you an amazed look as he freezes momentarily.

“I---what did that aphrodisiac do to you, baby?” Soonyoung wraps a hand around his cock, spreading the precum down his shaft as he positions himself at your entrance. “Seriously though, just tell me if it hurts, okay?” You nod in return; letting your arms rest at your side again.

Soonyoung slowly inches his cock into your tight cunt, a groan on his lips at how tightly you were already clenching around him. “Oh, fuck…” He whispers.

He bottoms out in a single motion, slow and steady. The head of his cock taps against your g-spot and you find yourself chasing another orgasm as he lets you get used to his size.

“Please, move!” You cry, squirming underneath him. He tsk’s you in return, leaning over as he grips your thighs. “Baby, don’t make me bind you again. You’re doing so well for me already.” He draws his hips back before thrusting in, starting a moderate pace when he notes that you’d already gotten used to him. 

“You’re so wet for me, baby. Is it the aphrodisiac or is it me?” Soonyoung jokes. Although he, too, can feel himself already on the edge just as quickly. He wouldn’t tell you now, but he thought about you quite often too.

“Maybe I should’ve taken some with you.”

“Ngh, we’d be at it like r-rabbits…”

“Wouldn’t that be fun? On a night like All Hallow’s Eve, when my powers are much stronger. Imagine how good I could make you feel then, hmm?”

You let out a sob; pussy clenched hard around his cock as you feel yourself on the brink of another orgasm. “N-no, ‘cause I---I already know I’m gon--gonna need more after this… My body’s still so h-hot…”

Soonyoung takes pity, leaning over you as he kisses your tear-stained cheek. “I’ll work you through it, baby. Don’t worry.” The two of you fall into a silence; only the sounds of your moans, his soft breaths, and the snap of his hips bouncing off of the walls of his bedroom. He can feel you get immensely tight around him as he grips your thighs a little harder.

“Oh, Soon--Soonyoung I--”

“It’s okay, baby. Go on.”

This time when you cum, the pressure feels ten times as strong as the first time. You can hear ringing in your ears as your back bows off of the bed and you can vaguely feel Soonyoung’s cock forced out of your pussy in the midst of your orgasm. Tears wet your eyelashes as you cry out his name in a jumbled fashion; body rigid against the sheets.

“Oh--shit, baby…” Soonyoung watches as you squirt all over him and the sheets underneath you; hand wrapped around his cock as he watches your face contort in pleasure. He gulps, bringing his cock back towards you as he runs it through your folds until it nudges against your overly sensitive clit. “Such a good girl for me. You’re doing so well, baby.”

He taps the head of his cock against your swollen clit, watching as your body jolts with every tap. “Soonyoung…”

“How are you feeling?” He asks, jerking himself off over your body as your hazy eyes meet his. “A little better… But…” You trail off, watching him thrust up into his own closed fist. “You look so good...” He hums in response, tightening his fist.

“I’m so close, baby…”

“Make yourself feel good too, Soonyoung… Wanna see you make a mess on me~” You spur him on; filthy words on your lips as you watch his brows furrow. “And I’m still gonna want more too~ But I wanna see you get me nice and messy first~”

He lets out a groan, cock throbbing in his hold as he cums; streaks of cum hitting your lower abdomen. “Ngh, baby…” You mewl, fingertips already running through the warm liquid as you bring it back to your mouth.

You lick off the salty substance, immediately going in for more as Soonyoung’s own fuzzy eyes focus on your movements. “What--what are you d-doing?”

“Cleaning~” You quip, popping the cum soaked fingers into your mouth as you moan.

“God, did that aphrodisiac turn you into a succubus? You’re insatiable!” He feels his eye twice as he starts to come down from his high; using his free hand to wipe the sweat from his brow.

You giggle cutely, licking your lips. “Are those even real? And for the record, maybe you shouldn’t have made the aphrodisiac in the first place for your little experiments and then maybe you shouldn’t have made it even more powerful with your spells!”

Soonyoung can only grimace in return; It kind of was his fault for leaving it unattended.

“I know, I’m sorry, baby. I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay? And no more weird experiments left out on the stovetop, I promise.”

Grinning, you lean up, ignoring the soaking mess underneath you and the cum drying on your abdomen as you push Soonyoung over until he lays on his back. He gulps as he watches you straddle his hips. 

“You’re gonna make it up to me all night though, right, Soonyoung?”

[ibijau]

You’re a marked man, brother, part 2 / also on AO3

Lan Xichen prepares to go rescue Nie Mingjue, and finds himself accepting help he wouldn't have considered an option

Lan Xichen stumbled at having his fears confirmed, and had to support himself against the trunk of a half dead tree. 

Nie Mingjue was his oldest friend, one he had made before either of them ascended, just like Jin Guangyao. In fact, because all three of them had ascended after being so close as mortals, because they had become even closer after ascending, there were a few temples where the three of them were worshipped together as the San-Zun, three brothers either by oath or blood depending on versions. 

None of them were quite brothers. Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao, tied by a red thread of fate, were married. Lan Xichen had no closer friend than Nie Mingjue. As for Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, the first often insisted they call each other as brothers, even though Jin Guangyao worried it was disrespectful since he used to be Nie Mingjue’s servant, but this was just a manner of address.

To think of Nie Mingjue falling in the power of the Magpie King was a frightful thing. Aside from the reputations the Magpie King had gleefully destroyed in the past, it was also said that he had pushed countless people to madness, sometimes to the point they would kill themselves. He was not someone to take lightly. 

If it had been anyone else involved, Lan Xichen might have been curious to see how the fight would go between a ghost king who only used indirect means, and a martial god who refused any trickery. In truth, he might not have bet on the god. But since it was Nie Mingjue who was doing this foolish thing, Lan Xichen had to believe that he could win… or better yet, that he could be stopped before meeting his adversary. 

"A-Yao, how long ago did he leave?" Lan Xichen asked through the array. 

"Early this morning, shortly after us."

Lan Xichen wanted to curse. After this long, anything might have happened.

"Do you know where he might have gone? I didn't think we even knew where the Magpie King lives." 

"I will be asking his lieutenants right away," Jin Guangyao promised. "From what I’ve heard, he seemed to have a particular place in mind when he left.” He paused. “Xichen, you're thinking of going to his rescue, aren't you?"

"I am," Lan Xichen confirmed. Now that the initial shock had gone, he pulled away from the tree that had supported him and stood straight. Of course he had to go help Nie Mingjue. He feared nothing from the Magpie King after all, so he was the most suited for this. The only secret he'd ever kept was that old flame he'd never quite forgotten, and it was not something he was ashamed of, so it could not be used against him. "Will you come as well, A-Yao?" 

The answer didn't come right away, which was no real surprise. Jin Guangyao, as a mortal, had been the son of a prostitute and a married man, he had done several menial jobs in his life before eventually becoming a mere servant in Nie Mingjue's household, where his fortunes had finally changed. Because he had been relentlessly shamed for his origins as a mortal, he didn't want them revealed as a god. 

If they went against the Magpie King, this might become discovered and turned against him. 

"I cannot really fight," Jin Guangyao point out with a sigh. "So I don't know what good I would be to you and da-ge."

"You'd be my good luck charm," Lan Xichen replied. "Things always go smoother when you're here, don't they? But if really you'd rather not…" 

"I owe this to da-ge," Jin Guangyao said, his voice a little firmer. "And maybe you'll need my luck indeed, against such a character. Fine, I'll start gathering information, hurry home so we can go quickly."

Lan Xichen nodded, even though his husband couldn't have seen him. He turned to look back at the Burial Mound which he'd only just left, and frowned. 

"A-Yao, I will be out of reach again for a little while," he announced. "I want to see if Wangji might agree to come help, and if his husband might know anything about the Magpie king's domain."

Even though he wasn't there, Lan Xichen could just picture the frown on Jin Guangyao's face.

"That doesn't sound too wise. What if those two Devastations are working together? Just because Wangji married this Yiling Patriach doesn't make him trustworthy." 

"Then I'd still like for Wangji to come along, it'd be safer." 

For one thing, Lan Wangji was a strong fighter, definitely the stronger god in the entire Middle Court. But more importantly, Lan Xichen was almost certain that his brother had had dealings with the Magpie King before, either in good or bad. Lan Wangji wouldn't confirm it, but he wouldn't deny it either, possibly because he wasn't sure himself.

Having made up his mind, Lan Xichen ended the communication with his husband and hurried back to the Burial Mounds. The ghost village was far more lively now that night had fallen, but Lan Xichen ignored all the ghouls and monsters to head right for the gate of the Mounds themselves. He feared, at first, that he would be unable to cross the barrier, but to his relief Wei Wuxian had given him a permanent welcome. Then it was only a manner of walking up the mountain, passing through the other village that existed there, and stopping before the foreboding Demon Slaughtering Cave where the Devastation lived. 

"Wei Wuxian ! Lan Wangji! I must speak to you right away!" Lan Xichen called out from the entrance of the cave. 

He had to shout this way for a while before at last the two men came out of the cave. Judging by their hastily thrown on clothes and their annoyed looks, Lan Xichen guessed he might have interrupted something. He was sorry for them, but this was an emergency and their fun had to wait. 

"More of Nie Mingjue's temples have been attacked," Lan Xichen told his brother. "He has gone to confront the person who did this, but I am worried this might go wrong and I wish to stop him or rescue him. Would you come with me, Wangji?" 

"Who did it?" Lan Wangji asked. 

Lan Xichen hesitated and glanced at Wei Wuxian, unsure how much to say. Before he could decide on that, Wei Wuxian laughed. 

"I know it's not me, because my location is well known and Nie Mingjue would already be there," he guessed. "If it were a mortal or an ordinary ghost, you wouldn't have any reasons to worry, not with Chifeng-Zun's reputation. So that means it's the Magpie King, hm?" 

"You came to that conclusion really fast," Lan Xichen noted. 

Wei Wuxian laughed again. 

"You got me! The truth is, that rumour has been going around for a few days, I just wasn't sure it was worth mentionning. But really... aside from the Magpie King, who'd ever be bold enough to anger the Martial God of the North? And you didn't deny it, so you also think it was him, don't you?" 

Lan Xichen gave Wei Wuxian a long look, trying to decide how to answer. 

"This time the crimes were signed," he explained. "But just as some people tried to make you take the blame, maybe some of the Magpie King's enemies would like to get him in a tight spot. And even if he was innocent up to this point, once Nie Mingjue attacks him, the Magpie King will have to retaliate, it's only natural." 

Wei Wuxian smiled, and leaned against Lan Wangji's side who wrapped an arm around his waist. 

"I think I like you, Zewu-Jun," he said, scratching his nose. "I think I wouldn't mind helping you, except… well, it could also be the Magpie King's own doing," he said with a grimace, "and in that case Nie Mingjue must have done something to deserve his hatred. So I'd rather my husband and I stay out of this." 

It made sense of course. Since they were of similar rank, Wei Wuxian and the Magpie King probably had as much power. But one had had centuries to improve his craft, while the other was still only starting to figure out what he could do. Unless provoked, Wei Wuxian wouldn't want to aggrieve his fellow ghost king. And yet… 

"I know the Magpie King cannot be behind this, because I know Nie Mingjue," Lan Xichen claimed. "In the past, victims of the Magpie King were always those who accomplished dark deeds in secret and tried to hide it. But Nie Mingjue isn't a man who keeps secrets. The good and the bad, he is upfront about it. How could such a man catch the interest of the Magpie King?"

"Maybe you don't know him as well as you think," Wei Wuxian said. 

"I know Nie Mingjue as well as I know myself," Lan Xichen insisted. He turned to look at Lan Wangji. "You know him too, and you know the restrictions imposed by his cultivation method. There's a reason no one else from his sect ever ascended. The sabre path only works for one who is fully honest and open. If Nie Mingjue lied, don't you think Baxia would turn against him, as such weapons always do?"

Lan Wangji nodded, but still looked at his husband with a forlorn air, as if to say even if it was unfair, he wouldn't act unless Wei Wuxian agreed. Lan Xichen couldn’t decide if it was endearing to see his brother so whipped, or a little infuriating.

Considering the circumstances, he leaned toward the second.

“Is Chifeng-Zun’s sabre really such a mighty weapon then?” Wei Wuxian asked in a tone betraying great curiosity. Considering with what enthusiasm he'd spoken of testing his new powers that afternoon, it was no surprise. 

Wei Wuxian was something of a cultivation nerd, Lan Xichen suspected. 

“Baxia, once unsheathed, will not stand for dishonesty,” Lan Xichen confirmed. “I have seen sabres turn against their masters, back when that branch of cultivation was still in use among mortals. But of course, you may choose not to believe me, and to still think Nie Mingjue hides dark secrets.”

“It’s not an ideal situation,” Wei Wuxian sighed after some consideration. “Of course, I trust Lan Zhan, who trusts you, and you in turn trust Chifeng-Zun… but I don’t know if I should trust Nie Mingjue just because I trust Lan Zhan, if you follow me?”

“Then I will not insist,” Lan Xichen said, bowing before the other two. “Thank you for at least listening to me, but I will go now before it is too late. And don’t worry, Wangji. I understand your position is difficult. If you asked me to do something A-Yao disapproves of, I do not know what I would choose.”

This appeared to comfort Lan Wangji, who looked a little less miserable upon hearing that his brother wasn’t angry at him. Lan Xichen sighed, actually somewhat annoyed that his brother was choosing his new husband over an old acquaintance, and turned away from the young couple. Before he’d taken three steps, Wei Wuxian called out his name.

“Zewu-Jun, I’ve changed my mind, we’re coming!” he said, starting to straighten his clothes. “If Chifeng-Zun is really as honourable as you say, I’m curious for a chance to meet him. If he’s guilty of something, then I’m curious as well, because his reputation is really excellent and I wonder what the Magpie King might have against him.”

Lan Xichen’s face showed no emotions, but inwardly he grimaced.

“You don’t have to come as well, it’s fine if it's only Lan Wangji.”

“Nonsense. Look, Lan Zhan badly wants to go, it’s clear,” Wei Wuxian said, pointing at his husband impassible face. “So it’d be cruel to stop him. But also I’m not leaving my husband when we’ve just started our honeymoon! Poor Lan Zhan would miss me, right?”

With a shamelessness that shocked his brother, Lan Wangji nodded in answer to that question, which in turn made Wei Wuxian grin and kiss his cheek.

Lan Xichen could only stare at those two, a little unsure how to feel about such open displays of affection. Even when Jin Guangyao and him had just gotten together, they’d never behaved in that manner, least of all in public. But of course, Lan Xichen and his husband had always behaved more like an old couple who no longer needed constant affection, even as newlyweds. Nie Mingjue used to tease them about that, just as mercilessly as he would have teased him if they’d been holding hands and cuddling the way Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were doing.

“Then let’s leave the Burial Mounds and go somewhere I can contact A-Yao,” Lan Xichen sighed, wondering how his husband would react to the company of Wei Wuxian, since he’d taken the first possible excuse to leave that morning. “Hopefully, he’ll have found some information to help us stop Mingjue from making trouble.”

After Wei Wuxian had a quick chat with the pair of ghostly siblings he’d picked as his lieutenants so they’d keep everything in order while he was gone, the three of them went down the mountain and contacted Jin Guangyao again. For the occasion, Lan Xichen invited his brother and brother-in-law into his private communication array, though he made a note he might change the password after this was over. He still didn't know what to make of Wei Wuxian, and didn't want to be too accessible just yet. 

“A-Yao, are you free to talk?” Lan Xichen asked into the array. “Wangji and Wei Wuxian are with me, they’ll both be coming to help.”

“Is that so?” Jin Guangyao asked in that very polite tone he only used when he thought someone was stupid but he wasn’t in a position to openly say so. “Then I suppose I thank the Yiling Patriarch for offering his help in this matter, it is very kind of him.”

Next to Lan Xichen, Wei Wuxian grinned. He knew he wasn’t wanted, but it didn’t seem to particularly bother him. Of course, being what he was, he probably was used to being undesired.

“Have you learned anything about where Nie Mingjue might have gone?” Lan Xichen hastily asked, still unsure himself if he wanted Wei Wuxian there.

“Among the temples attacked, one of them was a San-Zun temple,” Jin Guangyao said. “And in that one, the Magpie King claimed that he had had enough of liars and murderers, and challenged da-ge to come meet him in a certain mountain range near Qinghe, if he dared.

Lan Xichen gasped, and exchanged a glance with Lan Wangji who looked just as stunned as him, in his understated manner.

Back when he was mortal, Nie Mingjue used to live in Qinghe, as did all his family. Although nobody else survived who shared blood with him, Qinghe was a place of special attachment to him, and he still considered it his home. To challenge him in a place so dear to him was a hard blow on his pride, so it made sense that he had run there right away.

"A mountain range? Xinglu Ridge?" Wei Wuxian asked, a deep frown on his face. 

"Have you heard of it?" Lan Xichen asked. 

The area was notoriously haunted. It had been even when Lan Xichen was mortal, to the point Nie Mingjue and him had gone there sometimes to fight demons. Of course back then, the Magpie King wasn't around yet, and wouldn't be for nearly another century.

Wei Wuxian grimaced. "If that's his lair, then I've definitely met the Magpie King in the past. Back when I was still alive, a ghost of some power told me to come to Xinglu Ridge if I needed help. Never did, and I died soon after anyway, but still, it's funny!" 

Funny was definitely not what Lan Xichen would have had to say about this situation. For a ghost king to have dared make his home so close to the place a martial god as powerful as Nie Mingjue favoured so much… it was really bold.

"If you prefer to let us deal with this alone, I will understand," Lan Xichen said. "If you have debts or loyalties to honour, of course those have priority."

"No, I'm still coming," Wei Wuxian replied. "If there was a misunderstanding, I owe it to that person to prevent any unnecessary fighting. And if there's a reason for him to attack Nie Mingjue… ahah, then that man will need help! He's good at underhanded things, but a child could slap him and he'd faint."

"I'm not sure I want you to come along if you might turn against us," Lan Xichen objected. 

"I'll only pick my side when I'm sure which one is the just one. You've said Nie Mingjue is a righteous and honest man, so there's nothing to fear, right?" 

There was just a hint of malice in Wei Wuxian's voice, giving the impression that it might entertain him to see a god exposed for crimes of any sort. But of course, no truly good person would have become a ghost king, would they? And if there were crimes to be exposed, Lan Xichen too would have to side against his friend, since justice was to be ranked above affection. 

Still, he wasn't sure how much he liked Wei Wuxian. Couldn't Lan Wangji have picked someone a little less difficult as his partner? 

“A-Yao, have you heard anything else that might be interesting?” Lan Xichen asked.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Jin Guangyao sighed, sounding truly sorry that he didn’t have more information to share. “If we’re going to Qinghe, then let’s meet at the San-Zun temple there, shall we? How soon can you be there?”

“I’ll draw us a Distance Shortening array,” Wei Wuxian offered. “It’ll take us right to the temple, so we can be there in less than an incense stick’s time.”

“Then I shall head out immediately as well,” Jin Guangyao said. 

"A-Yao, since this could be dangerous, take one of your fans with you,” Lan Xichen suggested. “I'll do my best to protect you in case of trouble, but I'd feel safer if you had your own weapon as well." 

There was a brief moment of silence, and Lan Xichen could just picture the long suffering look on his husband’s face.

"It might be safer," Jin Guangyao reluctantly agreed. "Da-ge will never let me hear the end of this, but… fine, I'll take one. I’ll see you in a moment, Xichen."

With this, Jin Guangyao left the array. Immediately Wei Wuxian produced a stick of cinnabar and started drawing right on the floor, in the middle of the road. Lan Xichen watched him work with some puzzlement.

“Shouldn’t we find a door for this?”

“No, it’s fine, this works as well,” Wei Wuxian explained, drawing in a lackadaisical manner. “It takes a little more energy to do it that way, but it’s really easy when you know how, and there’s rarely any problems.”

“Rarely… so there can be problems?”

Wei Wuxian cackled as he added a few finishing touches to his array.

“Well, sure. Hey, Lan Zhan, remember that time we accidentally ended up on a boat because I’d messed up a character?”

Lan Wangji nodded, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “Hm. Wei Ying has improved,” he noted, either to flatter his husband or comfort his brother. And Lan Xichen certainly needed a little comfort, because he did not want to end up in the wrong place when Nie Mingjue was in danger.

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian laughed again. “True, it was only the second time I’d used it, and the first time I had another person with me, so of course it wasn’t very stable.” He stood up and wiped his hands on his robes while admiring his robe. “Yes, this one should be quite good. They’re a lot easier to control since becoming a Devastation, and can go further away too. Maybe when this is dealt with I should test how far I can make them go. Fancy a proper honeymoon, Lan Zhan?”

“Hm. If Wei Ying wants,” Lan Wangji earnestly replied.

Lan Xichen had to look away. To a stranger, his brother’s answer might have passed for cold, but to him Lan Wangji might as well have been giggling like a schoolgirl whose crush had winked at her.

“Let’s get going then,” Lan Xichen said with a cough. “I’d rather not make A-Yao worry by being late.”

“Sure, sure,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “Come here, Zewu-Jun. I’ll need to be touching both of you, so if you could both give me your arms… perfect. Then we all step on it together. On my count, one, two, three!”

Lan Xichen diligently obeyed, stepping forward when he was told. One moment he was in the desolate lands that surrounded the sinister Burial Mounds, with nothing but a slim moon to give some light. The next he was standing in a busy street where people walked around in spite of the late hour, with lamps illuminating everything and many smells hanging in the air.

Too many smells, in fact.

That Distance Shortening array had done something to his stomach, and Lan Xichen found himself heaving, trying not to vomit in front of his own temple.

“Yeah, I still don’t know how to deal with that side effect,” Wei Wuxian weakly admitted, leaning against a rather gray-looking Lan Wangji. “But it’s efficient, eh?”

“We’re walking to Xinglu Ridge,” Lan Xichen retorted, unsure he could bear with that sensation twice in a single day.

Wei Wuxian must has felt the same. He didn’t protest at all, and continued leaning on Lan Wangji for a while. Maybe the array had really taken its toll on him, or he just enjoyed the excuse to be shameless. Either way, all three of them promptly entered the temple. Jin Guangyao was waiting for them inside, putting some order to the altar, making sure everything was in its right place and removing the less fresh offerings. He only stopped when he saw the other three, and looked a little embarrassed at being caught doing something like this. Lan Xichen couldn’t help smiling, endeared by his so serious and dedicated husband.

“So that’s how it looks like inside a San-Zun temple,” Wei Wuxian remarked, looking around. “I like it, it’s not too tacky, not like the gods we had back home. Though you really don’t much look like your statues, either of you.”

“Where are you from, if I might ask?” Jin Guangyao asked, ignoring the comments about the statue even though it had to be about him. His personal temples weren’t a problem, but for some reason his statues in San-Zun temples were always way off, which bothered him and made him avoid them.

“Eh, the place doesn’t exist anymore,” Wei Wuxian eluded. “It was one of those places destroyed during the Sunshot Campaign. San-Zun never really caught up back there, not until after the war anyway, but I think Lianfang-Zun is pretty popular over there these days, when it comes to Civil gods.���

“Oh, so you must be from the Yunmeng area?” Jin Guangyao remarked.

Hearing this, Lan Xichen looked at Wei Wuxian with new curiosity. Ghosts tended to be eccentric in their outfits, and to wear clothes from all times of history, sometimes even mixing periods, so he hadn’t really paid attention so far. Now though, looking closely, Wei Wuxian’s clothes were of a style that matched the old Jiang dynasty, as did his hair. He even wore at his belt the type of bell that members of the royal palace used to carry for protection against evil. 

These days the Jiang dynasty had disappeared, replaced by the Jin who had taken over thanks to trouble after the Sunshot Campaign and some advantageous marriages. At the same time as this change of power happened, the Magpie King had attacked certain gods of that area for provoking the Sunshot Campaign in the first place. In the power vacuum that had followed, Jin Guangyao had gained a certain popularity in that region, just because he was lucky enough to bear the same name as the new line of kings.

“I spent some years of my life there,” Wei Wuxian admitted with a dismissive hand gesture. “It was long ago. I don’t think about it too much these days. But enough talk, let’s go rescue your friend, right?”

They left the temple behind, and walked through the streets of Qinghe, in direction of Xinglu ridge. All too soon, Lan Xichen found himself swallowed by a certain nostalgia, one strong enough he wondered if Wei Wuxian’s Distance Shortening array wouldn’t have been better.

Although many centuries had passed, and the city had changed in that time, ultimately it was still the same place it had been in Lan Xichen’s youth. He had never visited for more than a few weeks at a time, following his uncle on business, but those periods had been the happiest of his mortal life. He had spent most of his time there in the company of Nie Mingjue, with later the addition of Jin Guangyao once he had entered the Nie’s service… but he had also spent no small amount of time going around with A-Sang, who knew the city like the back of his hand. 

A-Sang had taken such pride in making Lan Xichen visit a number of little shops, obscure restaurants, and odd small temples to lesser gods, claiming those secret places were so much better than the big famous sights everyone went to. Often enough, Lan Xichen had agreed with that judgement. He’d always found it easy to agree with A-Sang. It had been so pleasant to go along what the younger man wanted. Lan Xichen had never had to regret it, not until the day he’d found out A-Sang, after refusing his offer to rise to the middle court, had been murdered. If only he’d just insisted a little more, if he’d only guessed what was about to happen…

He vaguely remembered that A-Sang’s luck, which had always been great up to that point, had recently started failing him. Shouldn’t it have been a sign his friend couldn’t be left behind? If Lan Xichen had tried harder…

As they left the outskirts of Qinghe, Lan Xichen forced himself to stop thinking about his lost friend. First of all, because it was wrong of him to still be so hung up about that person, when he was happily married to a kind and gentle man who did not deserve to be betrayed, not even in thought. Secondly, because it would be foolish to take a guilty heart into the Magpie King’s territory, where that would surely be turned into a weapon against him.

What had happened in the past was in the past. Lan Xichen, as he was now, was happy, and so there was no sense in holding regrets.

A few hours after leaving Qinghe, they finally reached the foot of Xinglu ridge. Because of the area’s reputation, the road less wasn’t as good as it had been near the city. Even locals didn’t want to go there unless absolutely forced, and as a result they didn’t maintain that path which was muddy and uneven. And yet, on that abandoned road, the four of them eventually encountered a high stone gate, the sort that might be seen as an entry point through a defensive wall, except it stood alone, with nothing but the mountains’ forest on either side and the dirt path under it. There was, however, a guard before that door.

Actually, to call that person a guard was being very generous. The middle aged man, a ghost by the look of it, certainly had a weapon with him. But that sabre had been carelessly abandoned on the ground, and the ghost was just sitting with his back against the gate, squinting over a small book while fanning himself. The fan probably wasn’t his own, Lan Xichen guessed. Everything else about the man gave him away as someone of humble extraction, but the fan was truly beautiful, almost as much so as the ones Nie Mingjue would occasionally force Jin Guangyao to accept.

This really was a pitiful sort of guard, but a dutiful one at least. When he realised that there were people coming, the ghost quickly put away his book and fan, then reached out for his sabre and jumped to his feet. Even like this, though, it was clear he wasn’t suited for his job, his hold on the weapon was all wrong, and his posture so bad Lan Xichen felt tempted to correct it.

“Hey, halt, you can’t come here!” the man exclaimed. “Or else, I’ll have to try to stop you, and nobody will like that!”

“You don’t look like much of a guard,” Wei Wuxian remarked. “You’re barely worth making Lan Zhan unsheathe his sword, you look that pathetic.”

The ghost’s face pinched into a tight expression, as if he were offended by that comment but too self aware to protest, especially when Lan Wangji nodded in agreement.

“Hey, save me some face,” the man grumbled, lowering his sabre a little. “This is my first day on this job, can’t you cut me some slack and come back another day? Everything is already bad enough, the Magpie King will have my head if I also let intruders in!”

“Could it be that there has been a recent intrusion then?” Jin Guangyao asked, sounding sincerely sorry.

The ghost took note of his accent and, thinking this young master might be more sympathetic than grinning Wei Wuxian or cold Lan Wangji, turned all his attention to him.

“Indeed there was, and now we’re all in trouble!” he lamented. “Some god or other managed to come in yesterday, and last I heard he was making his way to the King’s palace! I mean, who would do that? What’s the glory there? He even killed the old guard, you know. Killed him! A poor old ghost who was just waiting for the end of his time serving the King!”

“How very dreadful!” Jin Guangyao agreed, glancing at Lan Xichen.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t particularly bloodthirsty, as far as martial gods went, but he wasn’t a pacifist either. If he thought he was right, and someone tried to stand in his way, no matter how strong or weak they seemed he’d treat them the same and fight with all his might. To do anything less would be an insult to both him and his opponent, he believed.

“Right, right, it’s awful!” the ghost insisted, glad to have found a kind soul to commiserate with him. “His majesty is furious, I’ve heard, and now everyone has to be on high alert!” He paused, looking over his shoulder at the road on the other side of the gate. “Actually, I’m glad I’m not in there. The King has released all sorts of nasty things to slow down that intruder, and even if I know how to get around the traps, I don’t like knowing some of that stuff’s out there. I’m not a warrior, anyway! This wasn’t in my contract!”

“Isn’t it always like this?” Jin Guangyao sighed. “You sign up for one thing, and then get another one entirely.” Hearing this, the ghost nodded quickly, throwing his sabre a disgusted look. Jin Guangyao smiled. “You know, if things are so bad for you, nobody could blame you for breaching your contract. If you wish, we’ll let you go without a fight and tell others that we defeated you, if you only let us in and tell us a bit about what’s to come. How would that sound?”

With at least two of them skilled with a blade, and a third one rumoured to have terrifying powers, defeating such a pathetic little ghost would have been as easy as breathing. But if that man could give them information on his master and on what might await them inside, it would give them a clear advantage. As far as Lan Xichen knew, nobody had ever entered the Magpie King’s realm before, mostly because nobody knew where it was. The Heavenly Court had long suspected he had to have a den somewhere, as most powerful ghosts did, but they’d never been able to find any information on that. The Magpie King, who knew how to find everyone’s secrets, was quite good at keeping his own.

Indeed even that ghost, so vindicated against his master a moment ago, looked worried as soon as he was asked to let information filter out.

“Now that’s a lot to ask, my lord. Sure I’m asked to do more than was in the contract, but that’s a bit extreme. Betraying the Magpie King? Now, now, let’s be reasonable. I am faithful to my lord and master, of course.”

Although the ghost tried to look very dignified and noble as he said this, Wei Wuxian burst out laughing.

“Let me guess. You’ve sold your secrets to the Magpie King, and now you’re scared they’ll be spread around if you displease him, eh?”

"I made mistakes in my youth," the ghost wryly replied. "Now I must pay for them, until the King feels like erasing them. But just because I’ve not always been as diligent as I should have been, he keeps adding years to my time with him, how is that fair?”

“Sounds pretty tough,” Wei Wuxian said in a voice lacking any sympathy.

“Honestly, I’m not even sure I made that good of a deal,” the ghost lamented. “But it’s too late now. Since my secrets aren't mine anymore, I'm kind of trapped.” He paused, and gave them a long look. “But if someone freed me from that, I bet I could guide them through here, yeah?" 

"And how do we free you?" Lan Xichen asked. 

The man shrugged and pinched his lips. He looked very uncomfortable, and glimpsed again toward the mountain road, as if he feared the Magpie King would descend from there and punish him for even thinking about betraying him.

"Of course it'd be too easy if you could just tell us the conditions," Jin Guangyao sighed, watching the ghost attentively. "Sealed secrets… I believe I've encountered something like this before. If the Magpie King is using that curse I’m thinking of... the conditions to break the contract is for those secrets to be revealed out loud. And of course, I'm guessing you can't give us any hint, right?" 

The man shrugged again. Since it wasn’t a direct no, it might as well have been a yes.

"Then we'll have to do without a guide," Jin Guangyao concluded. "It would take too long to guess and da-ge could be in danger. We'll have to fight our way in, Xichen."

It seemed inevitable, and Jin Guangyao took a step back to let the others deal with this. Lan Xichen felt sorry for that ghost, but he still put one hand on the handle of his sword. Seeing this, the ghost cried out in fear. He threw his own weapon aside and fell to his knees, desperately raising his hands about his hand.

"Wait! No need to be so hasty! I'll help, I'll help, but you have to help me back! If I take you to that damn king, then you have to free me when the time comes!" 

"We can't be guessing," Lan Xichen sighed. "And I do not wish to promise something I can deliver."

The ghost considered that answer, his eyes jumping between the four men before him.

"Well, I'd take a half chance of freedom over another few centuries stuck here!” he decided. “At worse, maybe I'll just get killed this time, and that'll be it. Beats being miserable under a cruel master, it sure does!" 

Lan Xichen hesitated but eventually dropped his hand from Shuoyue, to the ghost's obvious relief. 

"I'll try to keep your case in mind," Lan Xichen promised, "and I'll do my best to break your curse." 

"Thank you, kind lord!” the ghost cried out, bowing and grovelling before Lan Xichen. When I am free, I will burn incense for you and tell mortals to do it as well!"

"Let's see about freeing you, first," Wei Wuxian snickered. "Do you have a name, friend?"

Straightening up, the ghost shrugged. 

"Been a while since I've had friends, but some folks used to call me Sangcan." 

Wei Wuxian's eyebrows rose at that nickname, and he failed to hide a grin, glancing at Lan Wangji who didn't react. 

"Sangcan like a silkworm?" Lan Xichen asked, a little amused as well and trying to see what could have prompted that nickname. 

Sangcan had nothing refined to his appearance, his face was ordinary and rather too thin, his clothes were of coarse linen, so it couldn't have been that Sangcan used to be a young master living comfortably, or that he had expensive tastes in clothes. Then, a poem jumped to his mind.

“Time was long before I met her, but is longer since we parted, and the east wind has arisen and a hundred flowers are gone, and the silk-worms of spring will weave until they die,” Lan Xichen quoted, prompting Sangcan to look at him with an intense expression. "You were reading earlier, could it be your nickname is a reference to something?"

The initial intensity on Sangcan’s face melted away, replaced by embarrassment.

"This lord is really too kind, to think it'd be anything so fancy. No, the truth you see... the real truth is...I was just a fat, lazy baby who did nothing but eat," Sangcan confessed lamentably. "Didn't improve much as an adult, so it stuck."

While Wei Wuxian burst out laughing at that explanation, Lan Xichen blinked a few times. Somehow, that exchange felt familiar. He looked more closely at Sangcan, but definitely this wasn't a person he'd met before. As for the conversation, if such an exchange had occurred before, Lan Xichen knew he wouldn’t have resisted sharing the anecdote with his husband. Since Jin Guangyao wasn’t reacting in any particular way aside from vague amusement, then it was proof Lan Xichen had never met Sangcan before.

Pushing aside that thought, Lan Xichen ordered Sangcan to walk ahead, and the five of them entered the domain of the Magpie King.

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 11 reactions; the ‘the sea is a harsh mistress’ edition

- on first watch this wasn’t really one of my favorite episodes. I think it’s something to do with... one of the many things I love about the mandalorian is how it made the star wars universe feel HUGE. big and surprising and unknowable, there could be fucking anything out there man we don’t know. so having first bo katan show up and then ahsoka being set up right after (quite aside from who’s rumoured to play her, which is an entirely different can of wormy beans) in additon to opening the season on tatooine... eh. I’m not that into it, it feels like shrinking the world. we haven’t even gotten to see any other type of force user yet. it is only early/mid season tho so they’re probably going to pull some unexpected twists on us 

my opinion might change with rewatches too, that happens quite a bit with this show!

- 

🎶I’VE COME TO TALK WITH YOU AGAIN🎶

honestly I had kind of a hard day yesterday and watched this the next morning and kept pointing tiredly to the crest like ‘it me tho’ 

- I was unreasonably happy about seeing the calamari flan again hahaha he’s been keeping that shit in his pockets for a season and a half now (didn’t he pay with some at one other point too?)! also the sound effects for them are SO EXCELLENT, I keep thinking about how well this show does texture which is wild considering how it’s filmed 

- the warm pat din gave frog lady’s arm when he thanked her and said goodbye 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I love the small ways he’s thawing 

-

my heart ached so much for him at this point, he just looks so small and tense and lost, like a kid who’s lost his parents in a supermarket

(he keeps his hand on the blaster the whole time too so he knows this is a bad scene but now they’re right out in the middle of the ocean already soooo) 

- din’s very very very dry sense of humour is so blessed. ‘a bowl of chowder for my friend’ faklhfsadkjlfhsadkjhfsd

the baby’s look when he poked the squid thing with his knife too -- yodito’s like ‘dad is a wizard??’ haha. some good baby & dad stuff in this one 

- oh din... side quest boy, side quest booooooyyy

- the shot when bo katan helped him out of the water is perfectly mirroring the scene of bb!din being pulled up to safety by the mandalorian in the flashback, which seems Very Intentional

I Extremely Do Not Trust Her in the larger scale tho. I think it’s important that din knows now that he was raised in a very specific offshoot of the mandalorians ant that there’s some Stuff he hasn’t been told, but I also think it’s crucial to remember that her pov is not unbiased either and she, in fact, already has an established tendency to selectively share information with him to manipulate him into fulfilling her goals. (which he realizes because he keeps saying ‘that is not my mission, my mission is the child’ and I could not love him more). hell, I’m not sure exactly how ‘the children of the watch’ were positioned within death watch, but she was fucking death watch too for the longest time! and she hardly left for particularly noble reasons, she just didn’t like maul! she already lost mandalore like twice, do we just have to trust that third time’s the charm or what! 

she lied to him about the scope of the mission to force him into a position to do what she wanted (fully knowing he’s responsible for a child!!) and she called that ‘the way’ just as easily as the thing about not letting his bravery be forgotten! big red warning lights, NO! I think the thing is that din is having to find his own ‘way’ of being mandalorian (/how does one be a person exactly help?? relatable content, and he’ll get there in the end I’m sure he’s so good), but her way is no less fucked up to me than the children of the watch from what we’ve seen so far. she’s good at killing imperials though which is of course a mark in her favour

(considering that the episode gives her the epithet ‘the heiress’... yeah that’s probably a hint that she’s loyal first and foremost to her entitlement, getting the position she considers hers by right of inheritance. guess we’ll see if the text agrees with her)  

- ‘mandalorians are stronger together’ yeah that’s probably why the cosmic balance makes sure they’re mostly engaged in being at each other’s throats lol 

- so I might be feeling kind of sketch about these guys but on the other hand... when that one lady saved the baby and then promptly took off her helmet to reveal she looks like t h i s ?

you better BELIEVE I was ready to fall down on one knee and propose right then and there holy shit

- ...wow if he didn’t have the jet pack din probably would have just sunk like a rock and drowned there huh 😨 that armour’s pretty heavy, turns out

- in happier news: din has become so good at reading what the child is expressing and responding/labeling the feeling for him! that’s so important to his development! ‘I know you’re hungry’ and both telling and showing him there’s a solution! still a bit of an issue that he thinks he can inform the baby of things like it’s a reasoned adult and have it understand, but we’re getting there we’re getting there lol

- that poor lady guiding them in for landing and sounding more and more worried fhkasjdlhfkjsdlahf (and he fucking TURNS OFF THE RADIO or whatever he’s using to talk to her through sdkfhaksdfhjs he takes a precious split second just to cut her off asfdjhaslkdfsdfhsda I love my salty dad) 

- when the fisherman asshole tells mando he knows where to find more of his people there’s the tinkling bell sound in the background music, I think it’s meant to convey almost childlike longing for belonging and connection, for finding someone who’ll know what to do? 

- when they took off their helmets and baby looked up at din like ‘???dad what the fuck? can you do that???’. (or like he just sensed his father taking a shitload of psychic damage all in one go)

- the way din didn’t start breathing again until they got the baby up from the water and he had him in his arms... the way he held him... sladfhasdklfhsjakdhfjsakldhfsakjldhfsjkadhfjaskdhfskajdhfjsdakhfslakhfskladhfsakljdhfjskadlhfkjsld

that whole scene was like a nightmare, so desperately unpleasant, in a way it mirrors the way the mandalorians have been hunted down and pummeled these last few generations, this must sort of be what it feels like to him subconsciously 

- din isn’t particularly inflexible as a person, after the initial kneejerk rejection he did listen to what they said and is carefully considering it (he did say ‘this is the way’ back at the end!)   

- the baby’s babbling when he wakes up and looks around in the beginning sounds half like ‘baba?’ and I almost had a heart attack

- loved how greasy and awful and dumb all the empire dudes were (and the comedy on board the ship too it was good for me) 

- the boob plates huh. shit they’ve shown with the armorer that they don’t have to do that in any way shape or form and they still brought the boob plates back :/ I guess it’s so they match up with the rebels/clone wars look, evoking that ~*era*~ and everything, but I don’t have to like it lol  

- I feel so validated in my theory that the razor crest is symbolic of din’s sense of self  (now with beautifully added commentary!) after this haha (and also so so scared now they might be ditching it for a new ship eventually). it’s in pieces, his world view is going to pieces and can’t be patched together the way it was before, from what he knows he’s about to deliver the baby to someone else who’ll understand/love/deserve him better (I do think that feeling is still in him) and he doesn’t even have the certainty of the code anymore to fill the void. oh buddy. 

the discomfort I felt when we got back into the cockpit -- into where it’s supposed to be familiar and safe! -- and saw all the ocean junk lying around, making it feel weird and changed and dirty (it probably smells like rotten seaweed in there now :( no likey)... I mean it was also very funny to see the pilot’s chair held together with a literal fishing net, but please favreau leave my dad’s car/ego alooooone 

- baby laughing his little bum off at din catching the small sea monster before it got him and then munching it......... the ‘there’s nothing in this world my dad can’t fix’ safe energy.......... I’m so scared we’re coming up on something din can’t fix 

- knitwear in star wars: I didn’t know I wanted it, but I am ELATED with having been given it

- moff gideon’s amazing evil voice... back in our ears, in our hearts, I gleefully hate him 

- at least din’s armour is clean again after that (awful) swim? one must appreciate some silver linings along the way I suppose

- din goes straight for the main pilot’s seat once they get the imperial out of it, so he must feel really secure that he’s probably the best man for the job; he is genuinely a good pilot! (and after this I am wondering even MORE who taught him. who raised you within the mandos din??)

- even while everything is new and scary and falling apart we can live safe in the knowledge that at least frog lady and frog husband had a good day and will have a good and happy frog life together with their frog children

couple goals tbh 

(I don’t necessarily know how it works for frog people but I uh. guess they got busy quickly huh hahaha good thing mando didn’t turn up again until later)

[gunmetalarchived]

continued from this text thingy for something to tell you | a discord thread with @diabolicaltendencies

ALEX

She hovered outside his door, already wondering if he had just been nice on the phone to let her down in person. Even worse, after years of going through the conversation with people she didn’t give a shit about, it was hard to redo it all when she cares this much about someone else’s opinion. It was easy to dismiss gossip and rumour. Not so much the way her face cracked in a smile whenever her phone lit up with his name.

Fuck it. She took a deep breath and hit his door bell, the smell of vinegar seeping up from the heavily soaked chips in her arms. At least she would have some fuel for bribery, and a couple of beers to help it flow quicker.

SAM

Sam knew the conversation they'd had over text was heavier than she was letting on. He'd done some poking around the internet since, but after one or two crazy headlines and hyperlinks to celebrity conspiracy blogs popping up on his screen, he quickly quit he quit. It just gave him more proof that talking to people was more useful than googling them. He still can't believe people actually do that.

He opens the door with a smile, genuine and bright as he looks at her, "Hey!" He glances down at the bag and looks a bit confused but no less happy to see her, "Did you bring food?"

ALEX

“And beer, don’t forget the beer.” She beamed up at him, immediately glad she had come even if this was going to be awkward. She took a step inside setting the bag down in his hall to immediately yank him down to her level. If he had been acting polite earlier, fine, but there was no way on earth he was going to escape her barrage of kisses. She missed him. A couple weeks up north and a long overdue day in the studio aggravated that. The nerves more so.

“Cmere stupid.”

SAM

"And beer." He concedes, closing the door behind her. He pulls her close the same time she reaches for him, kissing her thoroughly like there hadn't even been an earlier conversation. He missed her just as much. Cupping her jaw, Sam runs his thumb along her cheek when they pull apart. "If you keep that up, the food's going to get cold."

ALEX

She folded into him so easily, so naturally it was like she was made to for there. It was still a surprise how normal this could feel. Her experience of relationships had been all or nothing, hot and cold was a mild way to put it. Yet with Sam, things seemed to sit at a constant simmer. A gentle bubble, a constant reminder that happiness was just a kiss away d as t the most. Gentle hands and soft touches, it was all so cliche and yet simply perfect.

Alex shrugged, because in all honesty she was happy to forget about the food entirely. But she rolled her eyes like a begrudging teenager, even if the idiotic grin on her face gave her away. “Fine, but I’m coming back for more later, alright?”

SAM

He presses a kiss against her hair before pulling away to pick up the food, "I hope so~" He flashes her a just-short-of-cocky grin and ushers her inside. The flat is an organized mess. There are jackets, papers and books littered about but they've each found their own neat pile. He's been pulling long hours and has resorted to just enough tidying to keep things from overwhelming him. One day it'll all get put away but it's not today.

"Wow, what'd I do to deserve this?" He comments happily upon peeking at their meal for the evening. He places the bag on the coffee table and settles down on one end of the gently worn couch.

ALEX

Alex followed him into his space, heading straight for the sofa too. She liked his flat, it was funny how it could feel so lived in. Her own place was so sparse, she looked like she could leave at any moment without it seeming out of place. But his was worn, loved, filled with time and memories.  “Consider it bribery? Also, you’re welcome for saving you from any attempt at me cooking.”

She kicked her shoes off, immediately tucking her feet up underneath her and reaching for her keys from her pocket to open the beer bottles. “What have you been reading about? What’s that one?” She pointed to a pile on the coffee table curiously.

SAM

He begins sorting out the food, placing a box on either end of the table within reach and divvying up all the extra things in the bag. He glances up at the pile of books. It's mostly a stack of textbooks but the top one is a novel, "Oh, that's Stephen King's new one." He reaches to grab it and pass it over to her before opening his box and popping a fry into his mouth.

ALEX

She took the book form him, flipping through the pages likes he could actually take any of it in. No doubt she'd be up for it whenever it became a movie, but she had neither the mindset or the patience for reading. She learnt over, setting it back down carefully where he had pulled it form even if it meant being thoroughly in his way.  Alex grabbed one of the bottles, using her keys in a way they were definitely not intended and holding it out for him to take.   "Here y' go"

SAM

He leans backs slightly to make room for her to lean over but not quite enough that they aren't completely in each other's space. But it's comfortable, easy. "Thanks," He takes the bottle and downs a quick swig before smiling at her. "So what's the bribe for?"

ALEX

She grabbed the other bottle, playing with her keys again to loosen the top and taking a large swig to gather her thoughts. Her own food was still semi wrapped, so she stretched out for a chip from his. Taking it, Alex smirked.

“Well, I’m guessing you’ve got a ton of questions. And you might not like the answers so.. just in case.”

SAM

Sam slides his food a bit closer between them without complaint, continuing to casually eat himself. He smiles softly at her smirk, there's a short silence after she speaks before he replies, "We don't have to do this now. Unless you want to. My questions can wait."

ALEX

"Feels like we should rip the plaster off now, right?" There was no easy way to explain that if she put it off, she might stop talking all together. It happened, from time to time. He had just the good fortune of not being around to see it. Long distance worked like that. Alex shifted further into the sofa, curling into the arm to face him. "I'm all ears."

SAM

Sam looks over her and sits back against the couch, holding the beer in his lap. "Okay... I'm... not sure where to start." He offers an apologetic smile. "Maybe if you just-- explain what you were worried about me hearing? Give me the context?"

ALEX

"That's... fair." And it made it all the harder. Usually the songs lead this conversation or the press. Or both, if it was truly awful. She had fielded the worst of it for a few years not. It just had less stakes than this normally. Even when Jim found out. "I- erm-" She swallowed, hard. She pursed her lips to let the silence hang, trying to figure out where to start.

"I was with someone for about five years, l-like I said. He was on my course, and lived with me. We made a lot of music together until he got scouted, and then the thing I liked about him made us... not great."

SAM

Sam nods, he's listening intently, following along but not demanding anything. "And... that's what went into the music he wrote?" He asks gently, trying to put the pieces she's given him so far together.

ALEX

Alex nodded too, averting her eyes to take a sip from her own bottle as her fingers moved to fiddle with the label. “I wasn’t a great person... well I’m still not.” How best to put it? Her early twenties had been toxic, partly because of her relationship but also her outlook. There wasn’t really a way to explain all of that. “He wrote about me, about how he felt things had shifted between us. He took songs I had worked on with him and changed the lyrics to suit his view. And because my family is involved in politics, I didn’t get the luxury of having a fucked up relationship the same way other people do.”

SAM

Sam frowns, "So the media get a hold of it." He concludes. That would make sense of all the dramatics he'd seen from a simple search.

ALEX

“The band charted, there was a lot of press around the music from the few demos the label had pushed and... I was a great target.” She shifted awkwardly, tearing off a larger chunk of the label and rolling to between her fingers. “Things kind of spiralled from there.”

SAM

"Can I ask his name.. or the band's? I don't want to listen." He clarifies quickly. "Not unless you want me to for some reason. I just-- I don't want to look like an idiot if they come up."

ALEX

"Yeah- yeah, no of course. Elliot McAlistair, the band is Vactican Camoes. It was some dumb in joke the boys had." She smiled, softly. It was reassuring, whether he meant it or not. "You can. I mean, they're on the radio constantly. Sort of... unavoidable."

They had become the soundtrack to her life, especially working in the bar. Eventually she'd managed to curate some decent playlists to avoid it, but every now and agains she would be caught off guard by his tinny voice echoing from a shop front or builders radio.

"I don't come off well from it. I'm not... the most stable person in his eyes. And my dad - my brother, they didn't take it well."

SAM

"Well, good news is I don't believe everything I hear on the radio." Sam looks at her fondly. She's sitting so defensively, so worried about what he's going to think or say, but all he want to do is wrap an arm around her shoulders and hold her close. He knows this is her side of the story, but honestly that's the only one that matters to him. "...How did they take it?"

ALEX

Everything about her was nervous, tightly wound and yet somehow restless. Maybe finally talking about this would release the pit in her stomach.

“It’s- erm...” she tried to swallow again, opening her lips a few times before she had the sounds to fill them. “It’s.. complicated. I’m not, well, I wasn’t close with my dad so- yeah. It was very... personal. I sort of- I-I stopped talking for a while. My brother, he was better. But it’s... it’s not something people forget.”

She puffed out her cheeks, letting loose a heavy breath. “He wrote about things that made them look b-bad.”

SAM

Sam puts down the beer and shifts to sit facing her. He slowly reaches for her hand, giving her time to pull away if she wants to. He won't force the contact, "Hey." He shakes his head, "That's not your fault."

ALEX

“No, n-no I know you’re right.” She took his hand, lacing her fingers through his with a small squeeze. It was hard because she wasn’t expecting this comfort, but she liked it. Maybe this is what healthy relationships looked like. Her smile fell from her face though, her eye-line dropping to her feet. “Except, well, it kinda is. S-some of it anyway. They’re politicians so my life just... it doesn’t work for them. Me being me- it’s a bit of a whirlwind.”

SAM

He takes her hand in both of his, fingers caressing her skin. "I can't pretend to know what you were like then. I guess I don't really know your family either, but, I like who you are now. A song or headline isn't going to change that... and politicians, celebrities or not, nothing justifies someone selling your private life to the public without your consent. You know that, right?"

ALEX

On some base level, she knew he was right. And she agreed with him completely. Yet her mind swung constantly, between outrage at her life being subject to the judgment of the British public and shame at what a mess it had become. "Yeah." She said it quietly the first time, barely audible before she repeated it a little stronger. Maybe it would sink in.

"I don't know. I wasn't a decent person, neither was he. And I can live with that. It's become very real, having to explain it to everyone."

SAM

He nods and smiles encouragingly, squeezing her hand lightly between his. Sure, he would need more details for the full picture - to actually listen to the songs or read the articles. But even if it's the worst thing he can imagine... he doesn't think it would matter. He likes the Alex he knows, flaws and all, "Well I'm not running away yet... so now what?"

ALEX

"You sure? There's still time?" She uses her free hand to check an imaginary watch, trying to use the bit to gather her shaky confidence. It made sense he was playing nice now, whilst she was here and in the room. It was what came later she was terrified for. "It's okay. If this is too much, that's alright. My life isn't private anymore, it's a lot to get used to"

SAM

"It's not too much." He keeps up his reassuring smile. "Is there anything else you want me to know?"

ALEX

“You say that now...” she took a swig from her beer with a shrug. “I don’t know, guess if there’s any questions?”

SAM

"Hm." He looks down at their hands leaning in to kiss her knuckles before glancing back up with bright blue eyes, "Do I get to hear more of your music now that I know?"

ALEX

It was impossible not to smile when he did shit like this. Small, meaningful gestures that completely derailed her toxic train of thought. She leant forwards, pulling her hands away setting her bottle down on the coffee table before she flopped onto him entirely. She let her head rest against his chest, curling her shoulders to fit in the space at the back of the sofa. Impossible for him to eat, but soothing all the same. “Maybe. If you wanted to? Truth is I haven’t really written, well not for me. For friends, sure but that’s different. I’ve had an idea or two... just not got very far ‘til you came along.”

SAM

Sam falls perfectly into place, right where she wants him. He curls an arm around her, fingers lightly ghosting back and forth before reaching up to brush her hair back from her face. "I'd love to hear it." And he genuinely means it. There's a small note of excitement in his words.

ALEX

Easy. He made things easy. Easier to talk, to be kind, to be honest. Easier to write too. Sure, she'd been playing around with ideas more form the moment they met. However they were still personal - a real outlet for the intense feelings she had been having and trying to play down. Alex knew she was besotted. Acting cool was tricky when she fel so hard, and so fast for the people who showed her the slightest affection. She didn't even think, she just let it out. She had intended to say 'I'd love you to.' but it came out... different.

"I think I love you."

SAM

Out of everything she’s said, all the supposed horrors and skeletons in her closet, it’s those three words that surprise him. He inhales, chest expanding under her cheek, and his expression flutters between surprise and happiness. His breath catches on the exhale, words tumbling out of his mouth before he can think twice, whispered into her hair, “I love you too.” 

Maybe it wasn't the right time to say it. Maybe he should've waited for a moment that wasn't weighed down by what's she's been through. But he's happy. He loves her. It's the truth. His arm tightens around her in a loose hug.

[jimlingss]

The President’s Son [15]

Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 15.5 OR Chapter 16

➜ Words: 2.7k

➜ Genres: 100% Fluff, Slice of Life, Bodyguard!AU

➜ Summary: Kim Taehyung is the President’s son, mischievous and playful, and infamous for being a troublemaker. When everyone’s given up, they call for you to be his personal guard. There’s no other choice when your dad’s assigned you to it and surprisingly Taehyung doesn’t mind either. Maybe because you happened to grow up with that brat.

It’s getting harder to understand Taehyung. And even harder to comprehend your reaction.

  “Hold my book for a second, dumbo.” He rudely chucks it aside, and you barely manage to catch it. It’s piled on top of the other textbooks you’re holding for him like a maid, the tower tipping back and forth, nearly spilling all to the ground.    Your glare is unforgiving. “Can’t you ask me nicel—”   Taehyung suddenly drops down. “Your shoelaces are untied.”    “O-oh.”   The college student ties your sneakers gingerly, making sure they’re secure. He loops two bunny ears around the knot and then stands up with a smile. “All done! Now you won’t trip. I can’t always be there to catch you.”   Taehyung takes his book off the pile you’re holding and walks off. You’re left staring at his backside before you pick up the pace, unable to help feeling a little perplexed and caught off guard.    It’s becoming increasingly difficult to understand him and predict his actions — but it’s not like they were ever predictable in the first place. He’s always had a knack for spontaneity. It’s your susceptibility to surprise, that’s changed.    “I know you said you weren’t hungry—” Taehyung sits down across the picnic table and slides a brown bag towards you. “—but I got you the jelly doughnut. It was on discount. You liked this one, right?”   “Y-yeah. Thanks.”    You watch him go to town on his hash brown, chomping like a ravenous beast.   You’re agitated, muddled, but also more than that. You’re not sure what this emotion is. It’s puzzling to pinpoint, challenging and strenuous on your mind. You just know it’s different from annoyance, disenchantment, and the usual disenthrallment.    “Oh, look!”   Taehyung’s pointing to your left shoulder. When you look down, you’re unable to see what he’s indicating. Running out of patience and without thinking twice, he leans himself over. You flinch back on natural instinct, but he’s undeterred, paying no mind to the reaction that’s conditioned you since childhood.   You feel his chest hovering above yours, thin lips a millimeter away, and you hold your breath. But Taehyung’s eyes are nowhere near your body; his stare isn’t greasy or purposely flirtatious.    It stays quiet for a moment too long before he draws back.    “It’s a ladybug.” Taehyung shows you with a grin, one that had landed on your shoulder, and one he sets down into the grass behind him. “See you later, little guy.”   You’re absolutely bewildered, though finally able to breathe again.   There are times Taehyung’s unbearably cheesy and teasing, trying to get under your skin or vying for a reaction when he yearns for a kind of attention he receives from nowhere else, much like how he was when he was a kid. But the times that affect you the most are his unintentional actions — when he’s being sincere, genuine, his innocent self.    You’re not sure what to think of it. It’s confusing.   And the worst part is you can’t comprehend Taehyung lately — your own head’s become chaotic and you’re not quite certain of the reason for it.    “Y/N, hang on tight.” Taehyung pedals harder and glances over his shoulder. “The road ahead’s under construction. It’s gonna be bumpy.”   “Want to switch spots?”   “Nope,” he sings. “Just hold onto me.”   You obliged, grasping onto him, locking your wrists together around his waist.    Apparently it’s not enough. “Tighter.”   Your head leans on him, front pressed against his back, holding on. Taehyung laughs, the noise drawing out from his chest, and you can already envision his satisfied grin. “Good.”   You wonder since when his laugh became so melodic and pleasant to listen to.   It seems when he’s not trying whatsoever, he’s the most charming. When Taehyung’s not trying to flirt or retain intense eye contact or shower you in excessive compliments — and instead being his mischievous self, caring in quiet ways without making a whole show about it, laughing and smiling — he’s the most charismatic, much like his dad.   The magnetism that draws people in seems to run through the Kim blood.   Maybe you just never realized it before, but stepping back from your own biases and objectively analyzing him, Taehyung is rather appealing. He has a handful of good traits, and you’ve noticed the way females and males murmur as he walks past or stares across the room, not quite because of malicious rumours either or due to his status.    He’s a tall, strapping, blonde fellow. Even before when he had shaggy hair and was trying to grow a moustache, he wasn’t terrible on the eyes. Now that you recognize it, you gotta give it to him...he’s impressive in many ways.   You wonder why you’re only recognizing this now.    Why you didn’t see it sooner.   Maybe your childhoods that overlapped inhibited your perception and clouded your judgment, or perhaps you had learnt to overlook such trivial details.    But if there’s one thing that you’re beginning to learn about Taehyung, it’s that he’s the most attractive when he’s serious. You wish more people saw him like this — they wouldn’t take his words or opinions for granted otherwise.    Though now that you know this, you don’t really need a front row ticket to it...   “You want to what?”   “I want to draw you.”   “Absolutely not.”   “Why?” Taehyung pouts and he doesn’t know it’s because you don’t want him to stare at you intently, because it would be too intimate for your liking. As good as you are at pretending you’re a statue at social events, this is not part of your job description. The last thing you are is a piece of art. “I promise it’ll be quick. Half an hour, tops. I just need a rough sketch of someone as part of my portfolio.”   A sigh befalls your lips. “Can’t you pick someone else?”   “I don’t have anyone else. C’mon, it’s for school. Don’t you have to make sure I’m doing well in my schooling too?”   “But…” You look down at yourself. You’re not one to pay mind to futile things like your outer appearance, but you know you’re not in appropriate attire to be sketched. Once it’s permanently on paper, there’s no going back or reversing time. “I’m not even dressed properly, Taehyung.”   “You look fine,” he emphasizes and reaches over, grabbing your elbow. Taehyung walks you towards the center of the small studio. He turns you away from the sunlight, holds your shoulders and scoots you an inch to his right until it’s to his liking. “There. Good. Now stay still, okay?”   He smiles and struts back, plopping down onto his stool. With a sketchbook in hand, he looks up and begins.    The sound of graphite scratching against the paper fills the space between the four walls. It’s awkward, dreadful as you stare straight at him, and you release your held breath. “Do you want me to pose?”   “No.” There’s a full ten seconds of silence. “Just stay still.”   You feel out of place, stiff. The only thing you do is blink and barely breathe, not wanting to ruin his efforts.   “Can I ask you something, dumbo?” Taehyung mutters out of the corner of his mouth, eyes still pinned to his sketchbook.   “I...guess.”   “It’s kind of a stupid question, but I’m really curious as to what you’ll answer. So….think about it before you answer.” He hesitates for a moment and then goes for the kill. “Would you ever date me?”   “What?” You blink at him, unsure how to answer.   “Don’t move,” he suddenly barks out and you freeze at once, catching yourself halfway to stepping forward. “Thanks. Anyways I said, would you ever hypothetically date me or go out with me?”   “I don’t date.”   “Yeah, but let’s pretend that you did,” he mutters again and doesn’t even look at you properly to read your expression. Taehyung’s still concentrated, brows furrowed, the tip of his tongue peeking past the seam of his lips. His pencil comes out to measure something and then he quickly returns to the sketchbook. It’s not uncomfortable when he’s not full on staring and waiting for you to respond. There’s less pressure when he gives you time to reply.   “Well….that would be highly unprofessional. I’m your bodyguard—”   “Then let’s pretend you’re not,” he says carelessly as if this is small talk or a game of ‘would you rather’ to pass the time and make you less bored.   You hum, unintentionally relaxing in your spot as you give in and consider this what-if scenario he’s handed to you. “In a hypothetical world where I happen to have enough time and commitment to want to even date and I’m not your bodyguard and we happen to run into each other and we got the opportunity to go out….in a non-platonic sense…”   “Yes.”   “I….don’t know.”   “Wow, that’s it?” The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls, but it’s a dangerous question. You’re uncertain of what he wants you to say, what you want to say. The possibility of such a circumstance makes your palms clammy.   “Well, I wouldn’t know.” You shrug. “You kind of have to be in the moment to know.”   “Hmmmm, I see.” The artist at work nods to himself. “Interesting.”   As reckless as it is, you find yourself asking, “How about you?”   “Me? Yeah, I’d date you. If you’d even let me.” Taehyung laughs and a smile appears on your face. He announces it like he’s so sure of himself, and it almost makes you...nervous. But you’re probably sweating from the heat of the room. “I don’t see why not.”   “But why me?” you question. “Like you said, I’m emotionally stunted. And I wouldn’t be able to offer you anything.” It doesn’t make sense to you — you’re not exciting, adventurous, or fun. The type of person you imagine Taehyung to be with, you can’t find any shred of it in yourself.    In fact, you feel more like a drag on people’s lives. The sidekick or background character that helps them accomplish one mission and hints them to the next. Never the hero. Most certainly never the love interest.   Taehyung’s hand pauses.   He glances at you with a frown, earnest in his words. “Don’t sell yourself short. Seriously.”   The student continues his sketch. “You’re responsible and hard-working and smart and capable. Most people aren’t like that. They’re not like you. And you keep me grounded. Make sure I don’t make stupid fucking decisions and end up breaking my legs.”   The corner of your mouth pulls again. “Okay, fine. That’s fair. But is it really enough to date me in this hypothetical world?”   “In this hypothetical world,” he pauses to inhale, “Yes. But there’s so much more than that. I wish you knew. I’d be the lucky one here. Not the other way around.”   Your face heats. He gives you more credit than you deserve, but you appreciate the wholehearted praise. For once, he’s not trying to butter you to succumb to whatever he wants, to get you to roll your eyes and banter with him. There’s nothing he can gain from it. It’s meaningful and you’re brought back to the time he told you no one could replace you...   “This is going to sound so lame and I know for a fact it’s one sided,” Taehyung mumbles as his eraser scrapes along the drawing you can’t discern from this distance, “but you’re my best friend, Y/N.”   Your chest is tight and you meet his eyes, staring at each other. His pencil continues to move on the paper, having sketched your curves, the dips of your waist, the slope of your nose, shape of your lips and strands of your hair.   “It’s not one-sided.”   Taehyung smiles.   He looks down and the rest of the time is spent quietly as he tries to finish, focusing. The conversation sinks down onto your shoulders and unlike his promise, it lasts longer than an hour. But you don’t find it difficult to stay in place anymore under his gaze.   Eventually, he finishes and sets his pencil down with a grin. “Good enough. You wanna see?”   “Yes. In case you wasted an hour of my life….” You walk over, dragging your sleeping leg behind you to peer over his shoulder. At once, your expression wipes away.   He looks up at you in worry. “What do you think?”   “It’s….pretty decent,” you admit with an approving nod. “I look so….” Pretty. Happy.    The sketch isn’t so rough as he said it would be. It’s a clear drawing of you, standing with arms behind your back, facial expression melted into a sheepish smile. It’s uncanny to how you remember your mother when you used to look at her, back before she became worn down, cynical, disappointed in how her own life turned out.   You wonder if this is how Taehyung sees you. In a way that’s so lovely and carefree.   “It better be decent. My hand hurts.” He shakes it and stretches his arms above his head with a groan. “I’m beat too.”   “Can I get a copy of it? When you’re done….”   Taehyung sets his notebook down on the table and spins around in pleasant shock. “You like it that much?” A stupidly wide grin begins to expand into his cheeks.   You try to shrug casually. “It’s not bad.”   He walks across the room, falling onto the worn sofa in the corner. “I’ll let you have the original when I get it back. Come here.” Taehyung pats a spot beside him, but you glance at the watch on your wrist.   “Shouldn’t we go get dinner?”   “Yeah, but I’m so tired. Let me rest for a second.” Once you give in, moving to sit down beside him, he scoots closer to you. Side-eyeing Taehyung only causes him to smile. “Thanks, dumbo, for letting me draw you.”   “It’s fine. Better than your idea of going bungee jumping.”   “I still wanna do that.”   “Maybe when it’s not my shift.”   “So you can actually join me?”   “So I’m not responsible if something goes wrong.”   He bursts out with a scoff and a laugh before settling down, tearing his eyes away from the profile of your face he had tried to recreate on paper and failed. He shifts to look straight ahead instead. Another thought bubbles to the surface of his consciousness. “In a hypothetical world where we never grew up together, where you weren’t my bodyguard, if I wasn’t the President’s son, and we met here...do you think you’d be my friend?”   “What’s up with you and hypotheticals today?”   “I just wish things were different.”   “Different how?”   “I don’t know,” he says, but you think he does know.   You don’t push him to tell you if he doesn’t want to.   It goes quiet.   Every blink that is taken is heavy. The exhaustion of the day catches up to you, muscles sore, feet aching. But you’re suddenly broken out of your trance when there’s a newfound weight on your shoulder. You flinch from the affection, yet Taehyung stays, chest rising and falling.   He’s leaning on your shoulder, fast asleep.   Your eyes soften, staring at the icy blonde strands of his hair. Your breath steadies and you sigh gently, allowing him to stay.   You don’t notice the way Taehyung’s mouth tugs upwards discreetly, how he sheepishly smiles, noticing the change. Just a month ago, he had tried the same thing and you shoved him off without waiting a single beat….   And just like that, he falls asleep on you, lulled by your scent and warmth.   It’s now that you’re sitting right beside him, peace allowing you to think, that you can finally put your finger on the feeling that’s been brewing inside of you ever since he embraced your body in his bed, underneath his covers, and the pair of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. You know it now. And it brings a whole plethora of emotions washing down on you — confusion, worry, fear.    You’re agitated, muddled, but also more than that. It’s different from annoyance, disenchantment, and the usual disenthrallment. It’s fluster.   Kim Taehyung’s made you flustered.

[dessiekarma]

My Harem is Entirely Bad Boy Types (Kirisaki Daiichi x Reader) Pt. 11

Warning for mention of assault and abuse.

Chapter 11: I Guess Her Type was the Cute-Type All Along…Not That it Matters Anymore…

“(Y/N), please I really need to talk to you.”

 “I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk to you alone.” (Y/N) said keeping her head down as she jogged ahead of Yamazaki and into the school building.

 “Please, don’t be afraid to talk to me. I know I was so wrong but I would never physically hurt you! I never should have told Mei any of that stuff.” Yamazaki caught up with her and watched her tug off her outdoor shoes. “I was jealous because I really like you an-”

 His words were cut off as (Y/N) gasped. Out of her shoe locker spilled what was probably 100 pregnancy tests; marker used to make them appear positive. A note stuck to the door of the locker read:

 Not your first experience with these huh?

Yamazaki didn’t know how to react to the situation, but he didn’t need to as his former friend turned quickly towards him and lashed out with her words.

 “This why you were waiting outside my house this morning? What were you supposed to film me to show Mei?!”

 “(Y/N), no! I didn’t know anything about this. I really just want to apologi-”

 “No, cut the bullshit! You’re so fucking fake.” (Y/N) tried to keep her face firm but Yamazaki saw the obvious quiver in her lips. Everyone around was staring. “Tell Mei she wins. You deserve her and besides…I wouldn’t want you anymore anyway.”

 Not even giving him the chance to reply, the young woman slammed her locker shut and made her way further into the school ignoring the points and stares.

 Every now and then someone directed a comment at her but she kept her head down just focusing on getting to the gym. She could feel Yamazaki hot on her trail and his own voice was mixing with everyone else’s.

 “Hey (Y/N), who woulda guessed the sugar baby has her own baby huh?”

 “Another illegitimate child? No wonder your family’s been hiding you.”

 “Do you even know who the father is?”

 “You’re not just easy but stupid too!”

 (Y/N) was so close to the gym, she could hear the squeak of tennis shoes. The words of others kept coming into her brain despite there being nobody around anymore. She could feel her head spinning and a nauseous feeling in her gut before a sense of floating overwhelmed her and her knees gave out from under her.

 Yamazaki, who had thankfully been following her closely was able to hook his arms under hers before she collapsed. Quickly slinging an arm under her leg, the male was carrying her past the gym and towards the infirmary.

 Walking straight passed the open gymnasium door didn’t go unnoticed by a certain brown-haired basketball player.

 “Hey!” Seto called out quickly taking in what was happening. The other team members looked up at the sound of his voice. “What do you think you’re doing!? What’s going on!”

 Yamazaki didn’t blame him for the accusatory tone in his voice and shook it off.

 “(Y/N) was heading in here but she collapsed. I don’t know why, I think she might have had a panic attack or something!”

 “Well, don’t just stand there.” Hanamiya replied coolly though his eyes never left (Y/N)’s flushed face. “The main infirmary is too far and she’s heavy as shit. Bring her into the gym’s.”

 The orange-haired male nodded and followed everyone through the open doors. Needless to say it was tense. Seto was already preparing a cold damp cloth, Hara was prepping the small cot refusing to even look in Yamazaki’s direction, and Furuhashi sounded as if he was making a call for a doctor visit.

 Yamazaki took special notice that Hanamiya hadn’t left his side. But not for him…no. One of his hands was rested on the top of (Y/N)’s head, his gaze checking for any reaction she would give.

  “So, what exactly did you do to her, to make her pass out?” Hara spat out, still not looking up as (Y/N) was lowered on to the cot.

 “Mei put a bunch of pregnancy tests in her locker. Everyone kept taunting her in the hallway. I don’t think this is just poking fun at her…experience. (Y/N) was more upset then I’ve ever seen her. Like maybe it’s true.”

 “Maybe what’s true?” Furuhashi asked.

 “I don’t know maybe she’s pregnant or something?”

 An awkward silence hung throughout the room. There was a look in all the guys’ eyes, but it was hard to tell which were looks of suspicion and which were looks of possible guilt.

 “Don’t worry I’m not pregnant.” Came a whispered voice from the cot.

 The whole team turned to see (Y/N)’s face looking scrunched in pain, her eyes closed tightly. Even with her eyes closed a tear still managed to escape down her temple.

 “Its not a rumour either….He wasn’t supposed to tell.” The break in the girl’s voice echoed to fill the small room.

 “I know Mei was planning on going to Touou…do you think your ex told her something?” Yamazaki asked sounding like he legitimately felt bad for her.

 The young girl nodded before lifting both hands to press over her eyes. None of the guys knew what to do as she started sobbing. This whole time whether her eyes were closed, covered, or averted she refused to look at any of them.

 “Why would he tell her THAT if all things? He promised! Did he really want to hurt me that badly?! We didn’t even let most of our team know! It was between me, Ryo and Shoichi.”

 “(Y/N), no matter what happened…I’m going to be here for you.” Furuhashi said, suddenly by her side trying to pull her hands away from her eyes. “Do you have a baby?”

 Five sets of ears were listening, prepared for any answer.

 “No.”

 “Did you give it up for adoption? Is that why you left Touou?” Seto pressed on. “…Did you lose-”

 “No! I was in highschool and pregnant…and I didn’t want to be. That’s all.”

 “Did he make you choose that?” Hanamiya sounded gravely serious. “Is that what YOU wanted?”

 “We decided together. It wasn’t what either of us wanted but it was what was best. I have so much I want to do, I don’t know that I’d have been able to do that with a baby. And him…he has big dreams too, he wants to be a famous mangaka. I knew that he wouldn’t be able to do it with a family right out of high school. I couldn’t do that to him, or to some poor kid that we dragged into this world only to feel like a burden to their parents.”

 “Well then that’s that.” Hara said sitting heavily onto the cot besides his manager. “What’s in the past can’t be changed. If you aren’t bothered by it then it’s not really a big deal.”

 “My mom had the same operation done once.” Furuhashi chimed in with a shrug of the shoulders.

 “Joo-Won’s ex-girlfriend did too.” Seto threw in casually.

 (Y/N) finally sat up and opened her eyes. They were red and glassy from crying. But what scared them the most was just how much the light behind them faded. In the past their words and encouragement would rekindle that spark. Now it was almost as if none of that mattered.

 “Thank you for carrying me in here.” The girl addressed to Yamazaki, who had been hanging back just far enough.

 “It’s no problem! Really I just want to talk with you and apol-”

 “Not right now okay? We have a game against Fukuda Sogo tonight and we should be preparing for that.”

 “We aren’t just gonna brush your situation aside to play a game!” Hara exclaimed only to be taken aback by (Y/N)’s smiling face.

 “Of course, we are. If everyone already knows what else can I do? Honestly, I’m upset because I thought I could trust a secret like that with someone I consider my first love. I don’t care what people are saying.”

 “Well now I do recall once telling you ‘Three can keep a secret if two are dead.’” A smooth voice called out from the door.

 All six turned their heads only to be filled with confusion, anger or surprise. Imayoshi was frowning deeply as he looked at the girl lying in the bed. Surprising everyone there it was Seto who made the first move, walking up to Imayoshi and grabbing him by the collar of the shirt.

 “You’ve got some fucking nerve showing up here!”

 “Well after what’s happened, I had to check on my darling (Y/N).”

Furuhashi turned to gauge (Y/N)’s reaction and was unsurprised by the tears but was floored when she opened her arms up to the intruding male. Imayoshi pushed past Seto and sat beside the girl, embracing her tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder.

 “He told, Shoi-chan! He told, when he promised me! Why would he do that?”

 “Shh it’s okay. I know, Momoi called to tell me what happened.” The dark-haired male was stroking (Y/N)’s hair and finally getting a glimpse of his eyes the guys could tell he was just as furious as they had been over the situation.

 “We thought it was Imayoshi who told Mei about…you know.” Yamazaki said trying to get some clarification for all involved.

 “No! Why would he even have done that? It was my stupid fucking ex!” (Y/N) wiped at her eyes and sniffled a bit seeming to switch from sadness to anger.

 Five different brains lagged for a second, fighting their assumptions and the narrative they had created in their minds for the better part of the school year.

 “We thought Imayoshi was your ex!” All of them exclaimed loudly.

 “He even said he was!” Hara pointed an accusing finger at the bespeckled male who was now fighting a smirk.

 “I don’t quite recall making that statement. Though I do remember you boys making that assumption and perhaps I saw no need to correct you at the time. Undoubtly I am one of the most important people in her life and she was in fact mine before anyone, here in Japan.” Imayoshi chuckled and turned to (Y/N). “See even your team thinks we should date. So, what do you say?”

 “I say the same thing I’ve been saying since you were ten! ‘Gross, you’re my goddamn cousin!”

 “Yeah but I’m your first cousin. You know you have your ‘cousins’ and then you have your ‘first cousins’ and-”

 “Wait so this guy is the cousin you always talk about.” Hanamiya interrupted. “Shoko’s son right?”

 “Hold on who’s Shoko?” Furuhashi questioned.

 “My late aunt and yes, he is.”

 “How does Hanamiya know that?!” Hara exclaimed again. “Did she tell you her tragic backstory after all!? No fair!”

 Imayoshi’s face was unreadable but inside a heavy weight that had been sitting in his stomach suddenly deflated. When he’d heard about what (Y/N) was going through he feared that she was dealing with it alone but it seemed he might have underestimated her support system at KiriDai.

 “So then who is your ex?” Furuhashi asked. “Since only one other person knew then your ex must be-”

 “Sakurai Ryo, the reason I’m here.” Imayoshi interjected. “(Y/N), he’s been calling me all morning saying he can’t reach you.”

 “Of course that asshole can’t! I blocked him after….look I blocked him a while ago. What’s he even trying to reach me for!? He already told all of Tokyo that he got me pregnant, what else does he want!?”

 “I’d assume to apologize. Momoi and Aomine have been filling me in. Apparently, he said that if he can’t contact you by the end of the school day that he’s coming down to KiriDai to find you.”

 “Who the hell does he think he is!?”

 “Sakurai? I don’t even know who the fuck that is.” Hara said finally processing all this new information.

 “Timid little brown-haired kid, always apologizing. That being said, (Y/N), maybe you should hear him out. Ryo doesn’t seem like the kind of boy to do something like that without some sort of manipulation or maybe it was an accident.” Imayoshi explained.

 “Fuck that.” Hanamiya finally spoke up. “Sure manipulation is a thing but that doesn’t erase someone’s personal responsibility. The point isn’t WHY he told it’s the fact that he DID. Lots of things sway people and manipulate their choices but in the end you’re the one that makes the decisions and you’re the person who deals with the aftermath of those decisions.”

 “Hanamiya’s right and right now all I want to know is (Y/N)’s decision.” Seto added turning towards the girl. “Do you want to see your ex? Do you want to call? Do you want us to go down to Touou and beat his ass? Because all of these options are on the table right now.”

 “I want to get through the day. I want to go to our game and win. I want to move on to the next round of the Winter Cup.” For just a moment the guys thought they saw the sparkle in her eyes rekindle. Looking up at all of them that sparkle quickly pooled on her lashes and slid down her face. “I want everything to be the way it was a few months ago.”

~~~~~

 “I mean hiding a pregnancy, sure. But she had to have had an abortion, no way you can hide a whole kid.”

 “From the sounds of it her mother hid her. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

 “Hey shut the fuck up!” Hara hissed at the gossiping pair in the back of the class.

 “Ahh see I told you he was the father! Pay up!” One of the girls smirked at her friends like it was all some funny game.

 “It was last year, so before I even met Kazu-chan.” (Y/N) voice whispered in a deadpan tone, as she flipped through her math book.

 “So then it must have been with one of your paid dating guys, right?!”

 “It was with my ex at Touou.”

 “(Y/N), you don’t have to answer to anybody!”

 “If they don’t get the real answer from me they’ll just make up one of their own.”

 “Okay class, have a nice lunch and hopefully when you come back you’ll be feeling less chatty.” Their teacher announced with a glare directed at (Y/N) and Hara.

 The girl didn’t flinch or falter as her dead eyes bore into the teacher’s, until it was him that turned away. She began gathering her stuff and lifted her phone to see what seemed to be 20+ missed calls from her mother, no doubt having heard about this incident at school.

 “Hey come on, the guys are probably already waiting for us at the table.” Hara said as the room cleared out. (Y/N) smirked as she saw him fiddling with the bolts on the legs of the gossipers’ chairs.

 “You go on. I need to call my mom.”

 “Yeah about that…not really fair that only Hanamiya knows your story, don’tcha think? I mean it would make more sense to all of us. Imayoshi didn’t really give us more info before you sent him back to his university. We’re not trying to be nosy at this point but I think it would help us understand you a little better.”

 “Fair enough. I’m more than sure Hanamiya is willing to fill you guys in with what he can. I guess I don’t really have anything to hide anymore.”

 (Y/N) continued to force her smile until her friend was out of the room. Nails tapped nervously on the desk as the phone in her hands rang over and over again.

 Maybe if she was lucky her mother wouldn’t even want to speak with her right now. But it would seem the only luck she had any more of was bad.

 “I already spoke with your mother. She knew, said you came to her when the incident occurred.  I can’t believe you two were stupid enough to think you could have kept something like this from me.” A harsh male voice whipped through the phone. “I told her from the very start that she couldn’t be the mother Shoko asked her to be! But she insisted on keeping that silly deathbed promise and tried to be in your life. Had I raised you alone none of this would have been an issue! She was trying to prove something to me but all she’s proved is how incompetent she is!”

 “Grandfather, it was quite some time ago. We handled it.”

 “No, child. Handling it would have meant it was never heard of again. I should have handled your mother and she should have handled you!”

 (Y/N) flinched at the man’s raised voice and she couldn’t stop the tears from coming yet again.

 “Though I give credit where credit is due. I’m grateful you are more aware of your own body than your mother was. In spite of the social faux pas, you were at least smart enough not to bring another unwanted child into this world.”

 UNWANTED.

 Those words echoed in (Y/N)’s head over and over drowning out anything else the man was saying to her. She really had been unwanted. By her mother, her grandfather, her classmates, apparently her ex.

 Her father accepted her but…truthfully he hadn’t wanted her either. Even this team had more or less been forced to accept her because of the assignment with Hara. When she’d first become the manager said male, had made it abundantly clear that he wanted another partner. Hanamiya was never shy in saying he never intended for her to stay.

 UNWANTED, UNWANTED, UNWANTED

 Her body was shivering, and she could feel her breath growing more and more shallow before the phone was pulled out of her hands. Looking up she could see Furuhashi glare at the screen.

 “What a disgusting way to speak to your family.” The male retorted loud and clear before hitting end. Shoving the phone into his pocket the male extended his hand out to (Y/N). “I assumed you’d come to lunch with Hara but when I saw him walking alone in the hall, I knew you’d still be in here. Come with me.”

 “Where?” She said, taking his hand anyway and following him out of the classroom.

 “The roof.”

 “The roof? What the hell are we going to do on the roof? Hey if this is a Hara roof joke, I don’t really appreciate it at this point.” (Y/N) said with an annoyed expression but continued to climb the stairs with her friend.

 “No joke. Confessions should happen on the roof.”

 “Yeah I guess if you’re in an anime….wait confession?”

 “I mean it shouldn’t be a surprise, right? With everything we’ve done and been through?”

 “Well I guess not but you really don’t seem like the type of guy to do the whole love confession shtick.”

 “No but I am the type of guy that is used to getting what he wants. And if this is how I get it then so be it.” Furuhashi squeezed her hands gently and (Y/N) could feel a blush form on her cheeks. She continued to let him pull her to the final door but both were drowned in an awkward silence as the male jiggled the handle.

 …

 …

 …

 “It’s locked.”

 (Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the look of genuine dismay on the guys’s face. He blinked at her unamusedly.

 “I’m sorry Furu! It’s just that these anime tropes haven’t really worked out very well for any of us!”

 “…Why don’t you call me Kojiro? You call Hara by his first name and I’ve even heard you called Seto, Ken.”

 “Huh? Well I guess it’s because first names are like really personal right?”

 “Then do you feel closer to the other guys than me? You called me Kojiro once…it was nice.”

 “I just…the other guys are more laid back than you. It’s not a bad thing though I promise! You’re just really hard to read and I wouldn’t know if you were okay with something like that.”

 “I’m hard to read?”

 “Honestly, yeah a little.”

 “Then maybe everything I’ve done til now has been pointless. If that’s the case let me lay everything out here and now and be sure I’m clear.”

 (Y/N) noticed how he moved closer to her slowly as if gauging her reaction. One hand moved to lean against the wall beside her head and the other moved under her chin to tilt her head up. She could push him away at any point if she wanted to.

 But did she want to?

 “I have never met anyone quite like you. Everyone has either told me things were black or white. I’m either supposed to follow my mother’s every whim or reject every suggestion. You understood just how difficult that truly was, being the sole heiress to your own company. And even being so similar to me you never made it about yourself or about what you would do. You cared about what I wanted and how my decisions affected me.”

 (Y/N) was looking into Furuhashi’s eyes and for the first time realized how much emotion they could truly hold.

 “It’s going to be hard because I won’t give up my company for anyone. But…(Y/N) I won’t give you up for anything either. Your grandfather was wrong. You’re wanted…I want you.”

 Furuhashi felt almost a static shock as his lips brushed against her softly. Almost as quickly as he felt their touch she turned her red face away.

 “I…I need to think about some things. I have a lot going on right now and-”

 “I understand.” Furuhashi gave her a tiny but genuine smile. He rested his hand on her head softly. This didn’t feel like a rejection, she probably really did need some time to figure things out. “You have some time…just try to give me your answer before it turns into an objection at my wedding.”

~~~~~

 “I can’t believe you confessed to her without telling us, bastard!” Hara scowled Furuhashi as the team walked into the stadium.

 “Not my fault you guys were all busy stuffing your faces while I was moving the chess pieces further along.”

 “Ugh so you get the first confession, Hara has first guys status of knowing her before us and Hanamiya knew her backstory. What advantage does that leave me exactly?” Seto grumbled sleepily.

 “Well technically, according to (Y/N), Yamazaki confessed first. But I’m pretty sure he’s been dropped from the harem.” Hanamiya commented before the sight of his manager walking ahead of the group. “Hey!”

 The girl turned her head and smiled widely at the boys before seeming to wince and suddenly grew sheepish. Sprinting over to them she tried to put on her best game face.

 “What’s with all the makeup?” Hara asked noticing she had a full face on that she didn’t have this morning. “Don’t tell me your emergency stop at home was just to get all pretty for a basketball game?!”

 “Mind your own business!” The girl snapped with just a little more fierceness than sarcasm would intend. “My face looked really gross from crying earlier.”

 “Aww babygirl, I doubt a sexy girl like you could ever be described as gross.”

 Could a voice be described as greasy? Because this was it.

 (Y/N) turned with an unimpressed look on her face. Sure enough she recognized the guy as Haizaki Shogo, the ace and pain in the ass of Fukuda Sogo. Not wanting to deal with any bullshit the girl rolled her eyes and turned an ignoring back to him.

 It came as no surprise but was still plenty annoying when an unwelcome arm was slung around her shoulder.

 “Come on princess that’s a bit rude. You looked mixed, must be American right?”

 (Y/N)’s face grew red out of anger and embarrassment as he began spewing lewd words and phrases at her in Japanese.

 “I can speak Japanese, you dick! Which you obviously knew considering you heard me speaking it when you walked up to me with your bullshit!”

 “Hmm? Awesome you can teach me to talk dirty in English then.”

 “Yeah thanks but no thanks, Post Malone.” (Y/N) ducked under his arm and sauntered inside the building, not bothering to look back. “Come on guys.”

 Haizaki practically growled as the girl before finally taking notice of the team she was walking with. He smiled to himself and decided he was going to head inside too.

~~~~~

 “Ahh Ken-chan what are you doing here? You need to be warming up!” (Y/N) said trying to usher the man out of the locker room.

 “I know.” The taller male knew she didn’t really have a chance of moving him an inch and in defiance slumped into the locker room bench. “I just uhh wanted to talk to you.”

 His voice was trying to find its footing in not sounding accusatory, angry, upset or any other tone beyond casual.

 “Huh me? About?”

 “It’s just uhh Joo-won called me earlier.”

 “Oh! How’s he doing!? Good I hope!” (Y/N) responded back excitedly, unknowingly making Seto’s heart clench.

 “Yeah good. Anyway, he said that he hasn’t been able to reach you all day but wanted to tell you ‘yes’?”

 “Oh my gosh really!? That’s amazing! Oh my god Joo-won is the best!”

 Seto would have been happy to see the girl’s eyes light up had his brother not been the reason for it. He didn’t even know that Joo-won had (Y/N)’s number. And what exactly had he agreed to? He knew deep down it was a bad idea to introduce her to his more attractive brother. It wasn’t the first time it happened, so it was his own fault really.

 “(Y/N), I need an honest answer!” His voice came out as firm and commanding as he could will it.

 “Sure, Ken-chan.”

 “Do I have a chance or don’t I?”

 “Uhmm what?”

 “I just…that night when we…you confuse me. It’s like sometimes I think that you’re still in love with your ex, the next I’m sure you’re gonna run off with one of my teammates. And finally, when I start thinking that maybe I have a chance you’re secretly talking with my brother.”

 (Y/N)’s face grew red and warm all over again.

 “I’m not talking to Joo-won like that! It’s just a business relationship I promise!”

 “Yeah but still… at the risk of just straight up asking ‘what are we?’ I need to know your feelings for me. I know that isn’t fair to ask you right now when you have everything to deal with. And after two of my teammates confessed to you and undoubtedly the other two will soon. I just need to know if I’m even a contender in whatever the hell this is. I don’t like wasting my time or energy. Not that caring about you is a chore or something.”

 “You care about me, Ken-chan?”

 “Well that should have been obvious. Come on (Y/N) I like you because you’re not an airhead so don’t start acting like one. You know I care about you.” Seto stood up and stretched a bit before turning back to her with a small smile. Cupping her face softly he knelt down and was seemingly about to place a kiss on her lips but pressed his mouth to her forehead. “In fact, I suppose I care about you enough to not demand an answer from you right away. But I do expect one eventually.”

 The young woman watched her friend make his way out of the locker room and smiled to herself. However, the ringing in her pocket pulled her from any thoughts she was having. With the knowledge that Joo-won had been calling all day she decided to finally look at her phone.

 Momoi Satsuki

 “Hello?”

 “(Y/N)! Please don’t hang up! I went searching at Kirisaki Daiichi but they said your team had already taken off! I’m so sorry and if you just let me explain-” Sakurai Ryo was cut off.

 “Don’t fucking call me again.” With that the girl hung up.

 “That was harsh, babygirl.” Haizaki’s voice came from the doorway.

 “Who fucking asked you? And don’t call me babygirl.”

 “You American girls like that though, don’t you? I prefer Onii-chan but I think I can get used to being called Daddy.”

 “Well not from me.” (Y/N) said trying to move past him and get to the door. She felt her heartbeat quicken as he stepped in front of her. “Excuse me.”

 “Oh cute you’re getting nice and polite for me now? I should warn you I don’t have much money. Though I can probably pay you with good sex, I’m much better than all those old men you whored yourself out to.”

 “What did you say to me?!”

 “Lots of people have heard of Kirisaki Daiichi’s slutty little manager. I’m kinda jealous of them.”

 “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” (Y/N) made a break for the door only for the much bigger and stronger male to trap her against it, one hand restraining her wrists the other clenching her throat.

 “Don’t worry babygirl, I’m not judging you for it. In fact, if you were my girl, we could make lots of money together. You got the goods and I know just how to market it.”

 (Y/N) glared at the male as he drew closer to her. Hacking loudly, she spit right in his face.

 “Like hell I’m gonna let some wannabe Miracle, ‘Emergence’ me!”

 “What the hell does that even mean you, stupid bitch!?” Haizaki grabbed a fistful of her hair and (Y/N) screamed out. “You should be thankful someone even still wants your used-up ass. I’m not asking you to do anything you haven’t already done a hundred times before. You let your team take turns, what’s one more guy?”

 “Get off me!”

 It seemed to happen so fast. One-minute Haizaki’s lips were on hers, then the door was being pulled open making them both fall. She could taste blood in her mouth, she could hear a familiar voice shouting, and felt a familiar embrace tugging at her.

 Fighting out of the restraint her fists were quickly pounding into her attacker’s face. Blood was pooling out of his mouth fast, letting her know she’d bitten his tongue deep enough to need stitches. Unlike the last time this guy was fighting back. But also, unlike the last time this wasn’t simple rage.

 “You think you fucking know me because of some rumours!?” The girl shouted as a flash of orange was quickly trying to pull the male off of her. “Do you know how many times I went along with stuff I didn’t wanna do because I was too young and naïve to realize their threats were bullshit?”

 She could hear the male scoffing at her and knew he didn’t give two shits about her sob story. But telling it right now, it was almost as if she could picture the faces of everyone who had ever taken advantage of her. When he punched at her cheek, she bit down on his hand harshly, relishing in the snap she felt.

 “Hara, Makoto! Guys come in here!” The voice attempting to hold her back called out. The sound of shoes squeaking grew louder and suddenly more hands were on her, pulling her away.

 “And when I finally stopped letting these things happen to me do you think that stopped anyone from trying to use physical force instead!? Do you think I would never learn how to fight off assholes like you!? I hate men like you!”

 Almost as quickly as all the fuss began, did the room suddenly go still. Finally letting her eyes focus the girl could make out the faces of her team as well as the sport complex’s security. The person still holding her was giving the security guards a brief description of what happened.

 Everything around the girl was still blurry and a high pitched whistle was drowning everything out. Haizaki was screaming something at her or about her as he was removed from the locker room.

 “(Y/N)! (Y/N) can you hear us? Are you okay?”

 Finally looking at the person holding on to her she was surprised to see Yamazaki’s concerned face.

 “I came to see the game but when I was walking by I heard you yelling and opened the door. I guess you really didn’t need my help beating the guy up but I flagged down the team and security. They got that guy out of here but oh god are you okay? Who am I kidding of course you aren’t okay! This is all my fucking fault!” Yamazaki was ranting and to (Y/N)’s surprise crying. “I heard what that asshole said! He attacked you because of the rumours he heard! Rumours I helped spread. I’m so sorry! I never thought something like this was going to happen.”

 The girl was listening but not quite. It had all been building up to this. She didn’t even have it in her to cry anymore.

 “God look at this bruise on your face.” Furuhashi said kneeling down to examine the girl. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

 “That one wasn’t Haizaki.” The girl deadpanned.

 All the males looked at each other in concern and question. That was the real reason she showed up in so much makeup? She wasn’t safe at school and apparently not even in the comfort of her own house.

 “(Y/N), what do you need?” Hara asked, now crouching by her side. “What do you want us to do?”

 The girl swallowed a thick lump in her throat. It was a long time coming but with recent things falling into place the way they did…her mind thought to a private conversation she had with Imayoshi earlier.

 “Is your team going to take that well?”

 “Makoto told me I should do what’s best for me.”

 “Probably because you haven’t shown a track record of doing so, he doesn’t believe you actually will.”

 “Shoi-chan, please. I need to know before I make this jump. Are you all in or not because I can’t do it without you?”

 “I never have been able to tell you no. I’ll willingly be your pawn in this game so long you’re sure you can win.”

 (Y/N) was shaking at the thought of stepping away from everyone. But if she didn’t…maybe she would stay in the same place her whole life.

 “I wanna go home.”

 “I’ll call my driver.” Furuhashi began only to see (Y/N) shake her head.

 “No…my real home.”

[siarven]

NaNoWriMo Update #4 - Final

Hello friendsssss!

It is 01:49 on the first day of freedom except I’m moving straight into fluffcember *eyebrow wiggle* but shhh I have no idea how long I will keep up with that xD (yes it took me that long to decide on an excerpt shush)

...and I am tired... 

but also happy?

I wrote maybe 35k that can actually stay in the story. Which are words that I like, which I am going to keep. Which is far too little considering that this is what my final statistic looks like-- 

But then I remembered something!

I also did a lot of worldbuilding lore, and I figured out my DAMN PLOT, something I WAS STUCK ON SINCE MARCH, and my characters make so much more sense now, and I had a breakthrough regarding the changes I made to the characters, and how it’s going to affect the ending, and ahhhhhh the ending is WORSE now, but ALSO SO MUCH BETTER, and more meaningful, and asdkfjsldf

I may be dissatisfied with how many words actually ended up in the manuscript, but I shouldn’t discount all the words I used to discover things about my world, and to explain it to myself in ways that made sense, and to have an actual reference library of my own world that I can look at when I forget details. Before, all my stuff was... partially from 2014, partially still accurate, some of it from 2016, some of it from last year, pieces of all of them still right, but most not ... and some files are still like that. 

BUT I CLEANED UP SO MUCH, AND IT MAKES SENSE NOW.

I can’t discount that.

So while I may be very dissatisfied with the wordcount that ended up in my manuscript, I got damn far in terms of transitioning into the third draft, and making it easier for myself in the long run, AND FIGURING OUT THE DAMN ENDING. :’)

AND I WROTE A TON OF WORDS!!!! Even if most of them are stupid. XD

So heyyyy 

Excerpt

Here is a smol excerpt, from Elinor’s POV, below the cut... It’s very first-draft-y, and I’m still not sure about her character voice. Or any of that. But this is the gist of it, and I hope you like it :’)

You do not wait when you get summoned by the Regulator.

You dress in your best clothes, get your hair tidy, make sure to polish the Mask, and then you leave. You make sure not to run so you don’t sweat when you get there, but you do walk fast. 

You do not let the Regulator wait.

My thoughts are in shambles when I arrive at his estates. I’m still not over meeting my sister and mother, but even less over… the other thing.

Can’t even think about it. Too much tied to that, too much pain, and—

Take a deep breath.

You can do this. 

…I can do this.

While the rest of the city is basically a collection of houses stuck on top and next to each other, sorted into Levels and made to stabilize each other into tower form, Level Eight isn’t quite like that. It’s more like a million individual rooms than houses, haphazardly called Asimdrium. I still think it’s not an actual word, but everyone calls it that, so I guess it’s one now?  

The only place that doesn’t fit is the sprawling complex belonging to the Regulator. He rarely leaves it, only adding to all that mysticism… and now he’s summoned me here. I never much thought about him before—everyone meets the Regulator once in their lives, during the Testing, but few see him again after that. 

What does he want from me? And why in the dead of night instead of at a more reasonable hour? I have to get up early tomorrow. It’s not fair—

He’s probably busy. I shouldn’t question him like that. 

… no, in fact I mustn’t. He’s the most powerful man in Merreadon. The second most-powerful one in the entirety of the Empire… 

And he knows my name.

Alright, to be fair… he knows everyone’s name. Still, he does not summon most people to his office at such a late time. 

I take a deep breath— …I hope it's not connected to Ben… —knock on the door to his office. 

Nothing moves, and nothing happens. For a few moments I just stand there, heart straining against my ribcage, fluttering like a caged bird, trying to escape with every iota of its feeble strength. 

Close my eyes. 

Take a step back.

He will answer my knocking. 

He summoned me.

It feels like ages until the door finally moves, basically noiselessly. 

I kind of expected there to be someone else, a secretary, maybe, someone like that. 

But no.

It's the Regulator himself, in all his scary glory. 

He is the only one with a Mask quite like this, this… creepy. He is also the only one with such an imposing presence, or, well, at least here. There must be others in the other big cities, or at least in the capital cities of the different provinces.

“Good evening, Elinor Arborea”, he says. His voice is calm. Basically inflectionless. For a moment I have this really weird scene in my head in which he stands in front of a mirror, practising how to creep people out the most, testing around with the way he says certain words. Of course he's much younger in that scene.

…though it's really hard to tell how old he even is, exactly? And somehow that gives me hope. If he's not dead yet, the rumours must be true. There must be a way.

“Good evening, Regulator. Sir”, I say, trying to sound as dignified as I can manage. I kind of fail, but, well, I haven't had time to practise in front of the mirror, either. You have to take what you can get, right? And I don’t even have a mirror. 

I can't tell what he thinks at all, I can't even see his eyes behind the Mask. It's like there's a shadow clinging to it, hiding every sign of him being an actual person. Maybe he isn't one? Has anyone ever seen the Regulator without Mask? Maybe he's dead. Maybe he's just a walking corpse—

“You know already”, he says. For a second, I am terrified that he can read my mind, and that he’s addressing my corpse-fears. Then I realize that he must be talking about Ben. No… 

“Yes.” My heart is going mad. I can feel it. It won't be long until it escapes.

“In that case I will spare you the explanation.  As you probably know very well, you are a talented and hardworking young woman, showing great promise within the Asimdrium. I have been paying special attention to you for a while now, and today that might… pay off. For both of us.” He pauses. I have no idea what to say, and besides, there’s only dread and fear inside of me. I wish I’d never come. 

“Your brother is of… let us say, special concern to me. I have a proposal to make that will let both of us get what we want.”

He stops talking. I get the disconcerting feeling that he's staring at me from deep within his Mask.

I've never felt more uncomfortable. Except maybe at the Testing, don't remember much of that, though. It was a long time ago. This… it feels like he's staring through me. Into me. As if he can read my thoughts just by looking at me. As if he can hear my heart. I feel laid bare, on a far deeper level than mere nakedness. 

“Alright?”, I ask carefully, trying to suppress the tremor in my voice, the fluttering traitor living in my chest, the shiver running down my spine, like tiny frozen spider-feet. 

“I want you to go home”, he says, and for a tiny moment I think I have died and gone to the Eternal Sanctuary, that things will be alright, that I will get to go home—

“… sometime during your evenings, and to then report back to me on how your brother is doing.”

It doesn't matter that I can't read his face, his voice, or his body language. 

He paused like that on purpose. 

It tells me several things about this entity, this mystery, this man—because now I know for sure that he's still human underneath all of that. Maybe he's no longer the person he once was, but he's still unmistakably a person. A petty person who likes playing with people, in fact. 

Which is something of a relief, to be quite honest. Who knows what to expect from an animated corpse, or some other kind of inhuman creature posing as one? 

It still doesn't explain his eye-shadow but I guess that must be a Regulator speciality. 

“You want me to go home in the evenings to check on my brother because you want to keep an eye on him and can't go yourself?”, I ask, doing my very best at not mentioning the word spying. 

“Exactly”, he says.

~~~

But also, if you got this far. Let me rant a tiny bit. XD Dreams is going to be very long, I think XD I made a handy graphic:

Let’s hope I manage to cut some of those 35k words. XD or make the rest shorter XD

(yes that is my excel outline, it escalated a bit, but it helped immensely in figuring out how elinor impacts things, especially with the timeline, I usually just have an unsorted doc with notes in it aaahhhh)

especially since this is Part One: Dreams in more detail :))))))) AKA, just the red part.

I doubt Draft 3 will be less than 200k, to be honest. Whyyyy

@warmbones​ @wilde-writing​ @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad​​ @authordai​ @madmoonink​  @lynnafred​ @prismalicht​ @sincerestaffect​ @romenna​ @zekethegm​ @hypnocutiegypsy​ @random-stuff-thrown-into-a-pot​ @els-writes​ @randooooooooooom​ @asttralhell​ @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword​ @jellybeanwriter​ @kittensartswriting​ @purpleshadows1989​​  @raiswanson​​ @ettawritesnstudies​​​ @writingwordsanddrawingpictures​​

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Belgium to Eurovision with an anti-sleeping pill of some sorts

(thus this is officially the first video on these reviews to only be uploaded on Eurovision Youtube channel and nowhere else. Took me long enough to cave in)

Remember how all were desperate for some country, ANY country, to spill their artist tea this ESC season? We waited long and hard enough for some artist info leaks and rumours to come through and they eventually did start piling up... not too long before Albania was about to choose their hopeful for Eurovision - both artist AND songwise. Armenia saved us all from the ‘internal artists’ drought, and for this one down here, the first fully confirmed leaked entry as an ESC 2019 entry was there thanks to a boy named Eliot (”a boy named Eliot”... sounds like a band name or a book name... anyone here remembers Eliot Kid? No? Well it must be because it’s a cartoon for kids so) and the song, “Wake Up”. Is it worth waking up to from the disappointment season slumber? As far as I saw on Twitter back when this was fully ‘revealed’, people weren’t very into this, but I’m not one of those disappointed, I’m one of those that just wanted Belgium to sound better this year.

You see, I appreciate the verses of this song a great bit, I really do, makes me fantasize of neon streets and circle lamps and city lights at night, and good job to Pierre, which is the name of the songwriter that did the Belgian entry two years ago, for crafting this out as well. But the choruses, man. They leave quite a lot to be desired. The songwriters came in all like “alright, team, we need to finish off this demo for Eurovision as quick as possible” “but Pierre, we clearly need more time” “IT’S ALMOST MARCH AND WE DON’T HAVE AN ENTRY SO THERE IS NO TIME” “uhm... I mean, we COULD have had enough time to get the chorus to sound better? but as you say, Pierre”, and having agreed, they dashed off with that ‘finished’ product to RTBF and nervously-but-pretend-happily put down the files Eliot would need to record his vocals on. Uhm, guys, don’t you think that you needed to kind of... switched the chorus melody with the verses melody in some parts??? The verses would be good enough as choruses just to give a better sense of a build-up happening. Or the choruses could have used some... more percussion or background noise??? I don’t know, it’s just THAT incredibly irritating of a connection. The 2nd chorus tries patching up the problem, but rather sloppily, as if the songwriters were like “oh YEAH there WAS supposed to be a chorus!”. The bridge is good tho. But the 3rd chorus right after that part just sounds incredibly way more weaksauce than the first chorus. I’d rather snooze off my alarm on this one, no thanks. (And so what was the thing we need to wake up to in this song? The lies that Eliot doesn’t want, but only truth? Or we’re just waking up to the shiny abducting people on the music video??? Science won’t find me an answer for this sadly...)

I actually like this song as a whole tho, just that it feels like an empty room that looks nicely decorated enough but misses something. Maybe wallpaint? Maybe books in bookshelves? Maybe more colors? Maybe a TV? Just add some finishing touches and you’ll have something better and much more complete, god dangit!

Approval factor: I’ll approve it... I guess... yeah I definitely like it a lot but still...

Follow-up factor: Well, when you have to move on from that colossal disappointment that was Messennek and her wine addiction habits, Eliot’s not gonna lose this hard enough to be in just as terrible of a position as she was. Therefore, the follow-up is decent imo. Maybe has to do something with not much of a hype towards this song unlike last year, where everyone understood the hype of “A Matter of Time” while I didn’t? It’s like everyone now wants a Bond ballad or a Lana del Rey ballad because they like Bond music and Lana del Rey. But think about those that do not care about either Bond or Lana or both.

Qualification factor: It’s both likely and unlikely; likely because semi 1 is not crammed with the competition as much as semi 2, unlikely because the kid might have just enough potential to get incredibly nervous when he has to sing in front of PEOPLE, not CARDBOARDS. EiC and LEP crowds are marginally smaller than the ESC ones, no matter how smaller some ESC crowds are in itself (like this year’s one). And we all know how people were quick to judge the poor kid on a few videos from his unplugged singing... but my best wish is for him to handle his nerves in Tel Aviv in order to qualify. Or else they’ll get smothered by San Marino even.

INTERNAL SELECTION BONUS

(because why the fuck not)

Well, when you think about it, there’s barely any bonus surrounding this song in itself, especially considering:

• most of his performances on The Voice on Youtube are geoblocked asf;

• besides that, minus the the unplugged performance he did for a radio where everyone was quick to judge his chances vocal-wise, and the pre-party ones where he did get slightly better, as well as the rehearsals, he had nada to show for it

• his announcement as the artist wasn’t any ceremonious or anything;

• his entry was leaked, just like most ESC 2018 internal songs were, and leaking is funny (if not tragic), so no more on that.

HOWEVER, there was this huge rumour undergoing about some girl named Valentine, also from the Voice of Wallonian region, so much so that some folk REALLY believed in it, and then we didn’t hear about anything of it afterwards. That alone is at least something to account for bonuswise I guess.

For now, that’s it and I wish Eliot the very best of luck. Bonne chance in Tel Aviv! (and may his friendship with Miki last longer than Almaia was a ‘pretend’ couple ^^)

[stuckwith-harry]

Chapter 2: December

A particular brotherly feeling

Chapter 1

Ao3

A/N: A very sick @ronaldswheezy helped with grammar. (Also, my meetup five bed makes a cameo, hehe. Good times.)

December

“Show a little loving Shine a little light on me”

Lovers - Anna Of The North

Because he’s Harry Potter, and she’s Ginny Weasley, the rumour spreads ridiculously fast. From that point on, it’s a simple matter of keeping up the illusion, and soon enough, the hallways of Hogwarts are positively buzzing with gossip.

It’s ridiculous and a bit off-putting, Harry thinks, that a very real war is looming right outside the castle’s windows, that the Daily Prophet doesn’t go three days without reporting another disappearance anymore, and as soon as he’s spotted sticking his hand into Ginny’s back pocket, it’s the talk of the school. Still, he can’t deny there’s something weirdly pleasing about watching an entire common room full of students spin around and rather unsubtly crane their necks to stare at them as soon as they climb through the portrait hole together.

They set up a contract back in their deserted classroom, signed it, and made a copy for each. Harry remembered a spell from last year, and enchanted both pieces of parchment: To everyone but the two of them, their contracts would look like Potions homework.

“Sneaky”, said Ginny, sounding impressed.

The rules are simple: She goes to the Slughorn’s Christmas party with him. They go to Hogsmeade together, should the occasion arise, and sit next to each other in the Great Hall. No tongue when they kiss. And absolutely no snitching.

So on Saturday morning, the all but strut into the Great Hall, floating on the rare feeling of being in on the joke. It’s peak breakfast time, easily the busiest hour of the morning. The quest: Confirm the rumour that’s spreading around the castle like a particularly lovesick Devil’s Snare.

A simple enough feat, all things considered.

“Ready?”, she asks, looking up at him.

Harry holds her gaze and nods.

“Let’s do this.”

Several dozen pairs of eyes follow them as they march into the Great Hall, their entangled hands swinging happily between them. Harry spots the Creevey brothers frantically elbowing each other in the ribs as he and Ginny walk up to the Gryffindor table. The plan they’ve agreed on before coming down here makes his heart thump in his chest.

They find a spot on the bench wide enough for both of them, and before they sit down, she turns around, puts her hand on the back of his neck and kisses him on the mouth.

When Harry comes to his senses again, he looks around to find half the students present unabashedly staring – he fights the flush that creeps up his neck, grins at Ginny and quickly sits down next to her. Out of the corner of his eye, he registers a third-year Hufflepuff standing up on the wooden bench to get a better look; two Ravenclaw boys from Ginny’s year whispering heatedly; Romilda and Ron’s open mouths.

“Tossers”, Ginny mutters, looking rather pleased with the whole thing. She leans into him, covering her mouth with her hand when she whispers into his ear: “Good job, by the way.”

Harry glances past her at Ron, who’s sitting a few seats further down the Gryffindor table and looks like he just choked on his porridge. Their eyes cross when Ron spots him staring – he raises his eyebrows and mouths, What?

Harry shakes his head and looks away.

It doesn’t change the fact that he hates lying to Ron, but over the next few days, they hardly have a chance to talk. With school and Quidditch keeping them busy, the match against Slytherin rapidly approaching, there’s no time to discuss his relationship with Ginny in detail. Harry finds he’s rather relieved.

“I could kill him”, Ginny says loudly over the rumble of the Gryffindor victory party, handing Harry a butterbeer. “I could kill him, that hypocritical, entitled, self-righteous git.”

Harry doesn’t bother to ask who she’s talking about. “What did he do now?”

Ginny scoffs and points across the room. Harry follows her index finger with his eyes and spots Ron on the other side of the common room, where he’s snogging Lavender Brown rather enthusiastically.

“I could kill him”, Ginny reinforces, clearly eager to emphasise that particular sentiment. “And I kind of want to vomit.”

Harry has something else on his mind, though. “Is Hermione still here?”

“Haven’t seen her.”

“Mind if I disappear for a second?”

“You go. Want me to hold your butterbeer?”

Harry spots Romilda Vane watching them and takes that as an excuse to kiss Ginny goodbye before he slips through the portrait hole. She watches him leave, but he doesn’t notice.

When he finds Hermione, she’s sitting on the teacher’s desk of an unlocked Charms classroom, an entire flock of little yellow birds flying in a circle around her head, quietly twittering.

“Er”, he says. “Hi.”

She looks at him with a very odd expression on her face.

“Oh, Harry – you should be back at the party, I’m sure Ginny’s waiting for you.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say to that.

“I’m happy for you, anyway”, she says into the silence. “I had a feeling about you two.”

“How?”, Harry wants to ask, but before he can, Ron and Lavender come barging in, and that clearly poses the bigger problem at the moment.

Lavender does keep Ron busy, which means Harry doesn’t have to worry about their friendship imploding just yet, as he manages to avoid the topic of Ginny altogether on the rare occasion that the two of them do hang out. Oddly enough, Ron doesn’t bring it up either, and Harry decides it’s for the best, not exactly keen on a confrontation. He takes the same approach when it comes to Hermione, because while her comment from the day of the match hardly leaves his mind, he doesn’t particularly enjoy lying to his friends.

Unfortunately, that still leaves the mindbogglingly nosy rest of the school.

“So, how long has this been going on?”, purrs Lavender, who’s sitting on Ron’s lap. Ron, in turn, is trying to read over his Potions essay and doesn’t interact apart from regularly shooting Harry glances he thinks he doesn’t notice. There’s something oddly searching in them, and Harry doesn’t like it at all. He stares straight ahead at the Gryffindor Christmas tree, counting the crimson red baubles.

“Since you heard about it, I guess”, says Ginny, who’s sitting next to Harry on the most popular sofa in the common room, right in front of the fireplace. She’s flipping through the Daily Prophet and doesn’t bother to look up, though Harry has a feeling she must be as acutely aware of Ron’s presence as he is. “We really thought we could keep it secret for a bit, but the news travelled so quickly, it’s almost like the rest of the school knew before we did.”

Harry blinks and stares at her. She winks.

It quickly turns out it wasn’t their most cunning move to start this conversation when the common room is as packed as it is. More and more Gryffindors, some of which Harry has never spoken to, suddenly come over to sit or stand around their sofa and needle them with questions.

“How did it start?”

“Well, we were already friends, so –” Harry looks to Ginny for help, wondering if she’s also thinking about how idiotic it was not to come up with a backstory ahead of time.

“One thing led to another”, she says simply. Harry can’t quite place the look on her face. “It’s like – you look at someone as a friend, and at some point it shifts, and you see something else instead.”

“What made you like the other?”, asks a girl from Ginny’s year.

“Oh, I’m just dating him for his fame and money, didn’t you know?”

The little crowd break into reluctant chuckles – Harry actually has to bite into his fist to keep his grin from turning into real laughter.

“What about you, Harry?”, the girl presses on.

“Yeah, what about you?”, Harry hears Ron ask.

Uh oh.

But Ginny looks at him, and he feels their classmates’ eyes on him as much as he doesn’t.

“She’s funny”, he says after a beat of silence. “She’s cool, and – I really like hanging out with her.”

The Gryffindors around them giggle and sigh.

Harry stares into the fireplace so he doesn’t have to look at Ginny.

Hogwarts’ new and unfading interest in Harry and Ginny’s relationship comes with another considerable upside, which is that Dean and Seamus can start dating without attracting almost any attention. Ginny knows better than to expect it’s not a huge relief for both of them.

“Seamus hadn’t told anyone he’s gay before”, Dean tells her one day. “So, I guess I have to thank you for being a massive gossip magnet at the moment. It makes the whole thing a lot easier to navigate.”

Ginny finds herself grinning. “Any time. You look really happy together.”

“Thanks. And – you too.”

“Yeah …”

It’s their first real conversation since the breakup. They both stare around the half-empty common room, until finally, Ginny pats his shoulder, and says: “Well – I was gonna go and see Harry before class, so … take care, yeah?”

“See you around.”

With that, she climbs through the portrait hole.

As expected, she spots Harry in the crowded Charms corridor, miraculously without company. She can already feel several pairs of eyes following her, so she walks up to him with a wide grin and grabs his face with both hands before she kisses him.

He kisses her back rather more enthusiastically than expected. When they break apart, he’s smiling, really smiling, and says: “W-What was that one for?”

Ginny smirks. “I saw Michael coming this way.”

Harry quickly looks over his shoulder. Sure enough, Michael Corner is standing on the far end of the corridor, looking thoroughly annoyed.

“Oh, yeah”, he says, turning back to her. “Of course.”

“I can’t believe this is working. Tosser.” She suddenly grabs his hand, making Harry’s heart jump into his throat. “Here. I wanted you to have this.”

She pulls the Gryffindor-coloured scrunchie off her wrist and pushes it over his hand with a grin. “There.”

“Thanks”, Harry says, “but I don’t really suit ponytails.”

Ginny rolls her eyes at him, but grins. “Just don’t lose it, will you?”

“Wouldn’t dare.”

That’s a response that pleases her greatly. Before she can say anything, she notices Ron walk up to them, Lavender holding onto his arm with fierce determination. He comes to an awkward halt before he reaches Harry and Ginny, standing in the middle of the hallway.

“What are you looking at?”, Ginny asks him, loud enough for half the people present to hear.

Something flickers in Ron’s face. His ears turn a pale shade of red. “Nothing”, he says, his jaw clenching.

Ginny turns to Harry. “Also, there’s a Hogsmeade weekend in January. Reckon you’d like to go with me?”

“Last I checked, it was in the contract”, he says quietly, one eyebrow twitching.

“Oh. Yeah. Well, I have Herbology, so I’d better hurry. Hey, Ron! Watch and learn.”

With that, she stands on her tiptoes to kiss Harry goodbye, lingering a few seconds for good measure.

“See you later?”

“Definitely.”

Ginny makes it to Herbology only three minutes too late and counts that as a success. She slides into the seat next to Luna, who’s already put on her protective goggles, which enlarge her eyes even more than usual.

“You look pleased”, she observes.

Nothing quite like sticking it to your brother in front of two dozen people, Ginny reckons. Yes, that’s definitely it.

Even though there’s something rather unsettling about tickling the sleeping dragon only to find the dragon unwilling to reciprocate. Ginny and Ron don’t do the silent treatment. They do spectacular shouting matches that make the walls of the castle tremble. That’s how they work.

That’s how they’ve always worked.

“Excited for Slughorn’s party”, she says. “That’s all.”

There is exactly one person in the entire castle Ginny never expected to fool, and that’s Luna. Which is why she is surprised, to say the least, when Luna looks at her with her abnormally large eyes and says: “You know, I’m glad you’re going out. He makes you really happy, doesn’t he?”

“Uh … yes. Absolutely. Hm-hm.”

Ginny grabs her own protective goggles, pulls her Dragon-hide gloves over her fingers, and forcefully pushes Harry out of her mind.

Christmas is upon them before they see it coming. Seemingly overnight, the usual twelve Christmas trees – enormous and tinsel-laden as always – show up in the Great Hall. Shapeless, mushy snowflakes stick to the castle’s windows and soak the hems of their robes on their way to the greenhouses. Even the Gryffindors prefer to retreat to the comfort of the common room after class, and Peeves gets in trouble for attempting to strangle a group of second-years with a string of enchanted fairy lights.

On the night of Slughorn’s party, Harry spends twenty whole minutes trying to flatten his hair before he decides he’s fighting a losing battle. By the time he starts to wonder when exactly he started to care about his hair this much, he’s running late, so he all but jumps into his dress robes, tucks his wand into his pocket, and triple-checks that the scrunchie around his wrist is still there.

He rushes down into the common room and stumbles to a halt when he spots Ginny, who’s sitting on the arm of a sofa near the portrait hole.

Her red hair is cascading down her back in small, soft waves, explaining the thick, long braid she’d been sporting earlier. She’s wearing a dress made out of a velvety, pine-green fabric, with slim straps over her freckled shoulders.

“Uh. You look nice.”

She looks up. “I was just about to send a search team”, she smirks. “You too. Ready to go?”

“All set. And – you know, thanks for doing this.”

Ginny pats his arm. “Hey, I’m a girl who keeps her promises. You haven’t seen Hermione, have you? I looked for her in her dormitory, but I didn’t find her.”

“I guess she’s already there”, Harry says as they climb through the portrait hole. On the other side, Ginny grabs his hand.

“Who the hell shows up to a party early?”

Harry fights his grin in vain.

Slughorn’s party decoration is downright overwhelming at first glance. Every wall in his spacious office is draped in shimmery emerald, crimson and gold fabric, and Harry hasn’t taken five steps yet when he notices he’s got glitter in his hair.

“How?”, he says loudly, looking at the ceiling.

“Hold still”, says Ginny. She brushes over the top of his hair, causing Harry’s stomach to perform something that feels a lot like a spectacular nosedive.

Uh oh.

“All better”, she says. “Do you –”

“D’youwannagogetdrinks?”

Ginny’s eyes narrow in amusement. “Sure.”

They just about manage to grab a glass of champagne each when Slughorn spots them at last, his booming voice making half the room look up when he thunders: “Harry, m’boy!”

“Good evening, Professor …”

“And I see Miss Weasley is your date tonight!”, Slughorn roars good-naturedly. “Splendid!”

“Well, I’m his girlfriend”, says Ginny.

Harry chokes on his champagne. Ginny smirks and pats his back, letting her hand linger on the small of his back for the rest of the conversation.

They talk to Slughorn and the circle of people that slowly join the conversation until they decide with a silent exchange of glances they’ve killed enough time to sneak away. They find an empty table in a corner of the office and spend the next glass and a half people-watching, muttering jokes to each other and snickering under their breaths.

“Do you get tired of people begging you to let them write your biography?”

“Yeah, you know, I still haven’t figured out what that’s all about. I’ve had a very boring life.”

Ginny looks at him with a warm, fuzzy feeling filling her stomach that she blames on the champagne. “Yeah, well –”

Just then, they notice someone coming towards their table and look up.

“Hermione!”, Harry says when she reaches them. “Who are you running from?”

“Uhm”, says Hermione, who’s slightly out of breath and flushing under their stares. “Cormac … McLaggen.”

Harry blinks at her. “Cormac? You invited Cormac McLaggen?”

Hermione stubbornly refuses to look at him. “I figured it would annoy Ron the most.”

“Glad to hear we’re all on the same team here”, Ginny smirks, pushing her champagne glass towards her.

“Oh, no thanks, Ginny, I’ve already had plenty … well, I’ll leave you to it …”

She gives them both a weirdly knowing smile, and just like that, she’s gone.

“Does make you wonder”, says Ginny thoughtfully. “What do you reckon pisses Ron off more, Hermione dating McLaggen, or me dating you?”

“To be fair, he hasn’t murdered either of us yet. I’m taking that, by the way”, Harry says, reaching for her glass. “How come I didn’t know you’re such a lightweight?”

“Because no one gets drunk on butterbeer, which is extremely convenient for me, because I’m tiny, but I do have a reputation to protect. Hey, do you feel like dancing? Just reckon we should go and mingle before we start looking like complete tossers”, she adds.

“Sure.”

He takes her hand and together they make their way towards the dance floor, where several of the other guests are already swaying to the music.

“So, listen”, Ginny says quietly once they’re spinning on the spot, someone near the middle of the room. “I know meeting the parents wasn’t exactly part of the contract, but thanks for doing it anyway.”

“Well, Ron invited me way before this started”, he says.

“Yeah … plus, it would be a bit awkward to break up right before Christmas, wouldn’t it?”

“That’s definitely what I was thinking. Absolutely.”

They fall silent for a moment – the kind of quiet ringing of things unsaid. The music they’ve been dancing to fades out, but no new song starts playing.

Ginny leans closer and whispers: “Uhm, is there a reason half the people here are staring at us?”

Harry looks around. Indeed, the other guests seem to have formed a circle around them, all with a rather curious expression. Just as Harry begins to worry they may have heard too much, he catches Hermione’s eye, who stares at him so urgently he wonders if she’s attempting telepathy. She keeps covertly pointing her index finger at the ceiling without catching anyone’s attention.

“And we have a winner!”, Slughorn’s booming voice announces.

Ginny keeps poking his arm, so Harry looks back at her. “Kiss me. Quick.”

“What?”

And then he spots the mistletoe hanging over their heads.

Half of him wants to wonder how exactly that constitutes as winning anything, but that thought is quickly swept from his mind when Ginny grabs the front of his robes with the hand that isn’t resting on his shoulder. Harry feels himself lean into her when she pulls herself to her tiptoes, and then her lips press against his, leaving his mind blank for one blissful, fleeting moment. He only unfreezes when he feels her mouth leave his, pulling her closer for just a second – or five – longer, and they kiss, and kiss –

Ginny’s neck and cheeks look flushed when she finally takes a step back. She gives him a very odd smile before she grabs his hand, and together, they disappear from the curious onlookers. Harry spots Hermione looking rather smug before the circle around them slowly melts back into the chattering crowd it was moments earlier.

They don’t mention it for the rest of the night.

Under any other circumstances, bringing your boyfriend of one month home for Christmas would have been awkward, so it’s a good thing Ginny’s parents already adore Harry. This way, she can save herself the trouble of introducing him as “my boyfriend, Harry” and promptly watching her entire family jump to take a look at him like he’s some sort of exotic animal. As it is, she just grabs his hand before they walk through the front door, and firmly tells everyone to shut up as soon as they stop to stare. Fred dares to wolf-whistle exactly once and promptly points his finger at George when Ginny pulls out her wand. Still, between her mother looking perplexed, but pleased, and her father’s annoyingly unsurprised smile, the whole ordeal is about as bearable as it can be.

There’s still the tiny detail that they’re just pretending, of course.

They make it through dinner without any larger incidents, doing their utmost to change the subject as soon as their relationship comes up. Seeing as they’re trying to handle half a dozen nosy Weasleys at once, that proves to be impossible, so Ginny keeps her wand nearby just in case the twins’ jokes get too sleazy. Since Harry has a knack for sarcasm she’s rather fond of, she’s not too worried, but he doesn’t appear to be in the mood for witty comebacks. Instead, he’s weirdly quiet for most of Christmas Eve, leaving Ginny to do the heavy lifting.

“Alright, I’ve lost count. Remind me, Gin, Harry’s boyfriend number …?”

“Keep talking, George, and you won’t live to open your presents tomorrow.”

“And what kind of present is Harry going to –”

“You’re sure you want to finish that sentence? Really sure?”

Ginny and Harry end up being the last two people down in the kitchen, long after everyone else has gone upstairs – most of them, to wrap their presents at the last minute, she is sure of it. If all the other Christmases she’s ever experienced are anything to go by, at least half of them will sneak downstairs later in the night to stuff their presents under the Christmas tree unseen.

“Sorry about the interrogation”, Ginny says. Harry pulls himself onto the kitchen counter and shrugs.

“It’s fine. Honestly, it wasn’t as annoying as you think it was.”

“You’ve been weird”, she says bluntly, smirking at him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing”, he says promptly. When she quirks an eyebrow, he says: “It’s just – uhm – a bit odd meeting the parents and all. You know, since it’s not actually real.”

“I get that. At least it’s for a good cause, yeah?”

Harry grins. “I know you’re mad at him and everything, and I don’t blame you, but he is my best mate. So I’m not legally allowed to call pissing him off a good cause. But thank you for going to the party with me. I’d rather it was you under the mistletoe than Romilda Vane.”

“Plus, we got to piss off my ex-boyfriend and your ex-girlfriend.”

“Yeah …”

They fall silent for a few seconds before they speak at once:

“I don’t care about pissing off Cho.”

“I don’t care about pissing off Michael.”

They look at each other, and then say, again in unison: “Oh.”

Ginny beats him to it. “You go first.”

Harry shrugs. “That thing with Cho was so short-lived, it was barely a relationship, you know?”

“Yeah.” She comes closer until she can lean against the kitchen counter, right next to where he’s sitting. “Michael’s kind of the same.”

“You were together for months, though, weren’t you?”

“I mean – yeah, but if you asked me what I saw in him, or if I ever even genuinely liked him, I honestly couldn’t tell you. I guess I thought I liked him, or I wouldn’t have gone out with him in the first place, but I don’t – know – anymore. So now I’m not sure how real any of it was.” There’s a weirdly tense pause, where she takes a deep breath, and shrugs. “Turns out I’m pretty bad at discerning what’s real and what isn’t. Between this, and the diary, it looks like it’s becoming bit of a pattern.”

She smirks, but Harry doesn’t reciprocate.

“I guess that didn’t make the breakup with Dean any easier”, he says after a beat of silence.

Ginny smiles flatly. “Dean’s not gay.”

“Huh?”

“He’s dating Seamus, yeah, but he’s not gay. He’s pan. So, you know, it’s not like there was never anything real between us. He didn’t break up with me because I’m a girl. It’s just that, at the end of the day, I’m not Seamus.” She shrugs. “I feel like I’m supposed to be more upset than I am, but … I figure if you like someone that much, and if you’re so sure, you should be with them.”

“Yeah”, says Harry, not looking away. His face looks unusually soft in the dim light.

“Bit of a mood-killer”, Ginny says with a half-hearted grin. “My bad.”

“It’s fine. I’ve been there.” When she looks at him, he shrugs and says: “Feeling like you can’t trust your own head? After everything that happened last year? Yeah, I get it.”

“I figured you would”, she says quietly.

And now it’s Harry’s turn to smile, that weird, unamused smile when there’s very little to smile about. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”

“It makes sense to me”, she says, placing one hand on his arm. If hearing that means half as much to him as it would to her, it’s the most valuable thing she could possibly say.

Neither of them looks away, so she can watch his smile change before her eyes. “Makes a nice change to have someone who doesn’t think you’re barmy when you tell them this stuff”, he says.

“Yeah.”

When did his face come so close?

“Well, I don’t think you’re barmy”, she says quietly.

“I don’t think you are, either.”

“Harry …”

And just as she holds her breath and leans into him, there’s a dull thump from the stairs, and they spin around. The sound of feet scampering up the steps and back to the first floor fades away.

“Sounded like the twins”, Ginny says into the silence.

“Yeah. Definitely two pairs of feet.”

They look at each other, but only briefly.

“So, anyway”, Harry says. “I think your Mum put up the camp bed in Ron’s room, so – she’s probably gonna expect me to sleep there.”

“She will”, Ginny says. “But Ron won’t. It’s gonna look weird if you don’t sleep with – in my room.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Minutes later, Harry is lying on a dozen throw pillows and a Cushioning Charm on Ginny’s bedroom floor. They’re both staring at their respective bit of ceiling, until Ginny shifts on her mattress and says: “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“Merry Christmas, Ginny.”

The silence stretches on and turns into the sound of slow, steady breathing. When she rolls over, propping her head up on her arm, Harry’s eyes are closed. His face looks more relaxed and centuries younger than it does most days.

She only watches him sleep for a few minutes. It hardly counts.

[kristallioness]

Coming back to earth

Summary: Aang and Katara have to deal with citizens who aren't too happy with their new plan.

Word count: 1,548

Author's note: I felt really conflicted while trying to figure out what to write for this. From what we know so far, Katara was never officially a councilwoman, so it's hard to grasp something. I didn't wanna write an AU, so I only had one option that would fit: the timeline between the end of the war and before the founding of Republic City. Since this is the only time when Katara has been shown to participate in council meetings in the comics. I imagined that the story takes place at the same time as, or after "Imbalance", but since we don't know what's gonna go down there, I'm gonna make some wild guesses.

----------x----------

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Katara wondered as she and Aang exited the temporary building of city hall. Being back in the industrial city wasn't as pleasant as either of them had expected. The airbender entwined their hands and gave it a squeeze.

"I hope so. This is the most reasonable solution we've come up with so far."

There'd been countless conflicts between benders and nonbenders, some of which had turned rather violent. Hence a similar council meeting that was held in Yu Dao, where representatives from each nation were present, had just ended. Almost the entire Team Avatar had attended, except for Fire Lord Zuko, because a Fire Nation representative was already in town.

During the meeting, Aang had proposed a crazy idea, which no longer seemed as crazy once everybody had given it some thought. His plan was to unite all of the villages running along the west coast, where both Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation citizens had already mixed during the past hundred years, and create a fifth nation, where benders and nonbenders from all over the world could live together in peace. Nobody would be looked down on for their ethnicity, their bending abilities or lack of for that matter. Most importantly, if Aang wanted to be able to stay together with Katara, it'd be a perfect place to live in for the two of them. It almost sounded like a dream.

Of course, not everybody saw it as a good thing. Rumours spread around town about the so-called "fifth nation" being formed. Two Earth Kingdom noblemen were sitting on a bench on the main street outside of city hall. From what other pedestrians heard from their loud conversation while passing them, they weren't pleased.

"Can you believe that? This is outrageous! They're just going to rob us of our land!" the bigger guy exclaimed, waving his hands in the air. His plump figure donned upper class Earth Kingdom attire. He'd been living near the booming town decades before the sacred land of the air nomads was overtaken by the refinery. Now his own land was about to be divided into half - one half remaining under Earth Kingdom territory, the other falling under this new nation.

"Those youngsters know nothing about politics. Who even put them in charge of such important roles in the first place?" the second nobleman asked whilst stroking his long grey beard. He was slightly taller and older than his companion. He considered himself an expert in politics due to having good relationships with other noblemen from Ba Sing Se, who kept him informed about the progress of events during the war.

The two noticed how the Avatar and his friend came out of the building where the council meeting was held. The noblemen slowly stood up from the bench, with the older one grabbing his cane so he could walk. The fat one adjusted his belt higher and blew on his shiny golden rings, wiping them clean against his robes before turning to his companion.

"Shall we?"

Receiving a confirming nod, they began heading towards the couple, to show them exactly what they thought of their new plan. Aang and Katara didn't suspect a thing while they continued their walk down the street. As Sokka would say, they were too busy 'oogying' around. As they walked past each other, the shorter nobleman earthbended a small rock right in front of Katara's foot, which forced her to trip.

"Ow!" she yelped and fell on her knees, but luckily managed to put her hands on the ground so she wouldn't fall flat on her face. Aang immediately knelt down beside her.

"Katara! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay.. I don't know what happened there," she said as she sat down and began dusting her tunic. Little did she know that, despite not being able to react fast enough to prevent her from hurting herself, Aang had sensed where the earthbending had come from.

He looked around and noticed the two men responsible walking the other way. They stared back and laughed at them, until they understood that the airbender had spotted them, after which they looked away and pretended like they hadn't seen anything.

"Hey! You two! Who do you think you are? You don't treat girls like that!" Aang shouted to them. He also earned the attention of other passers-by, who first looked at him, then at each other in confusion. The noblemen turned around and slowly approached Aang and Katara. The shorter one pointed a finger at himself.

"Who do we think we are? Shouldn't we be asking you that question? You and your little friends can't just come waltzing in here and divide up our land!"

"We aren't dividing up your land. We're trying to come up with a solution that'd make everybody happy," Aang said as he grabbed Katara's hands and helped her stand up.

"There is only one solution, Avatar. Send those ash-makers back to their homeland. These occupied lands that you're trying to form into this so-called 'fifth nation' are Earth Kingdom territory!" the taller nobleman added, tapping his cane on the ground.

"No, you're wrong. Now they're both Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation territory. This is a whole new world we're looking at. Do you really expect us to order people to leave their homes behind? After they've lived here for the past hundred years?" Katara chimed in.

"Shut your mouth, little girl! I was talking to the Avatar."

"Excuse me!?" Katara exclaimed as Aang took a step forward.

"Hey! That's my girlfriend you're talking to."

"I don't care if she's your girlfriend. She's a simple rube from the south who shouldn't put her nose where it doesn't belong. This is our land and she shouldn't have a say in who gets to live here or not."

"She-"

"Oh, really? And who should have a say, then?" Katara interrupted before Aang could start defending her again, holding him back by laying her hand on his chest. She stepped right in front of the taller nobleman, crossed her arms and glared up at him.

"Only the honest Earth Kingdom citizens, such as ourselves, who've suffered the most because of this war. You southerners had it easy, living on your small iceberg in peace, cut off from the rest of the world. It's not like the Fire Nation came and conquered your land and claimed it as their own. We've had hundreds and thousands of families torn apart, troops killed on the front line. What's your small village done compared to that?"

Katara felt how every inch of her body became filled with rage after every selfish statement. She was so close to snapping because of his ignorance. She took a deep breath and spoke in a low, furious tone.

"You have no idea what my tribe went through during the war. All of our waterbenders were imprisoned. My mother died trying to protect me. Our men journeyed to the Earth Kingdom to help you fight against the Fire Nation. Women and children were left to fend for themselves. My friends had to leave their home behind and come here to make a living. My boyfriend's entire culture was destroyed, every one of his people were killed."

At this point, she raised a finger under his nose.

"Don't you dare compare your kingdom's suffering to ours. Even though my tribe is much smaller, that doesn't mean our suffering was, too."

Katara glanced at Aang, then took a step back and laid a supportive hand on his shoulder. Her gaze remained fixed on his grey eyes, her face softened and she smiled a little.

"We're all in the same boat here."

"I highly doubt it. It's not enough that those ash-makers have stolen our land, our homes and our jobs, now you want to allow your snow savages to come here, too? I suggest you go to the nearest harbour, find yourself a boat and go straight back home to that icy inferno where you belong. You foreigners aren't welcome here," the short nobleman warned her. He spat in front of Katara's shoes before they both turned around to walk away.

She growled, her hand clenched into a fist and ready to bend the water out of her pouch, but Aang put a hand on her shoulder to return the favour. He held her back.

"C'mon, sweetie. Let's go.. those two aren't worth it."

He felt how her stiff body relaxed, her shoulders slumped. She let out a heavy sigh and nodded, allowing Aang to guide her the other way.

"Filthy peasant," the shorter nobleman muttered to his mate. Katara heard it and in a split second she summoned the water from her pouch into a whip and whacked it against the backs of their heads. The men cowered and rubbed at the painful spot, turning around in shock.

"That's for calling me a peasant, insulting my people, and my tribe," Katara said before she spun around and walked away.

"Don't ever talk to my girlfriend like that again!" Aang threatened them one more time, then followed Katara. The noblemen felt disgusted when they saw him give her a soft kiss on her cheek, their hands entwined as they headed their way.

[jerseydeanne]

Gossip site for both celebs/pseudo-celebs arrests, divorces, breakups and hookups, new deals and cancellations, A-D listers and everything in between.

Read the comments, presumed to be you-know-who!

I kicked a hornet's nest last night. I posted the entire thread, I’ll let you guys be the judge. Thank you anon 🌺🌺🌺🌺

FRIDAY, JULY 20, 2018

Blind Item #13

Apparently when our favorite former actress was back in the States a few months ago, she slipped her drug of choice past her protection via a friend. This time around, she is going to have to find a new way to get herself supplied. Oh, I have no doubts she will. It is one of the main reasons she is visiting. She misses that kind of partying and she knows no one will dare arrest her if she is busted. It is partying without having to worry about any legal consequences at all.

POSTED BY ENT LAWYER AT 11:45 AM

1 – 74 of 74

Boldblonde

said...

Guess she didn’t lose him!

9:59 AM

Just Paige

said...

We will know this is true if she ends up dead. If it is there will be proof and the Monarchy won't allow that.

10:00 AM

Do Tell

said...

Is this saying that Meghan yachted WHILE she was dating Harry?

10:03 AM

sandybrook

said...

I'm sure she needed the additional income a yachting excursion provided her. Entern has always said she just an opportunist looking out for herself.

10:03 AM

Sd Auntie

said...

She must be a firecracker in the sack. Harry does not care and probably used escorts his whole frickin life.

10:04 AM

Sunspirit

said...

So was she with Harry when she was yachting?

10:04 AM

Sunspirit

said...

With him as in relationship wise

10:05 AM

Ash X

said...

Is yachting like prostitution? What is yachting?

10:06 AM

Damiana

said...

Sounds like it was before...then XX introduced her to Harry thinking in terms of Harry hiring Me-Again and either she spun it into a "blind date" (as reported for their meeting), or he didn't understand the setup and assumed it was a blind date. Question is, who's the fixer? Guy Pelly or Markus Anderson? And has HRH twigged yet? If not, who's going to tell him?

10:07 AM

Don Kieballs

said...

I can't see Harry marrying a yacht girl. Reformed yachter possibly, but not one who was doing it while they were dating. He may be a ginger, but he's a Power Ginger.

10:08 AM

Appalachian Mothersauce

said...

I think they're truly smitten, and that longevity will only be tested by time.... But Harry is no saint, and if he judges her on her past, he's scumA++.

10:12 AM

Shakira Eakins

said...

I agree. It seems fitting he find a party girl that understands his past and won't treat him like crap for it.

10:15 AM

Don Kieballs

said...

If you go by this blind. Megan was a yacht girl and Harry was one to use the services of yacht girls (why else would the friend make the assumption?) If they both participated in yacht activities, then neither is morally superior. Harry would have no standing to criticize her - not that he has or would.

10:17 AM

Do Tell

said...

It's not 100% up to Harry. If the Palace finds out that she was doing this, he will face a lot of pressure to dump her or renounce it all to marry her.

10:19 AM

Observant One

said...

When I hear the story about how PH and MM met, I immediately thought of Bani and the Celebrity Sex Broker blinds.

10:44 AM

Comment deleted

This comment has been removed by the author.

10:48 AM

Just Paige

said...

@Observant - when I watched the engagement video of them tellling the story I immediately thought of this blind. She is a terrible actress and it was so rehearsed: she touches his arm - reminds him to seem off the cufff...

10:50 AM

Rafael

said...

It´s a LARP. Enty is a cuckservative 4chan larper and is angry because Obama did an interview with Harry and now is visiting William. While the dumb Trump is hated by everyone. lol

10:50 AM

Mango

said...

Not a fan of the royals but I can't believe that the palace hasn't thoroughly investigated Markle, so she must have passed muster. The palace staff are more class conscious and snooty than the royals. I googled, "who introduced Harry and Meghan" and the name "designer Misha Nonoo" kept coming up. I'd never heard of her so I looked up her website and her designs are meager, repetitive and forgettable, however Nonoo is a tall attractive blonde, so I totally believe that she could be a yacht girl who does the part time work to finance her design house.

10:58 AM

John Doe

said...

Who is Harry's friend that she was yachting with? We all know she has a history but I doubt that Harry cares much because his whole life has been about hookers and weed.

10:59 AM

Cheez Whiz

said...

WTF is a LARP? Live Action Role Play? @Rafael, your comment makes absolutely no sense at all. Too much DemocraticUnderground before the morning coffee?

11:01 AM

Beth

said...

Nonoo was married to a friend of the royals. That's how she comes to Harry. The other person who may be the matchmaker is Violet von Westenholz.

11:03 AM

Observant One

said...

@Just Paige - That's exactly what I was watching. I agree with your assessment of her behavior during that video.

11:10 AM

texasrose

said...

I think this blind implies she yachted before Harry and that is when one of Harry's buddies used her. Later when he saw them together he just assumed that Harry was using her services also. Doesn't necessarily mean she was yachting when dating Harry. Ash X - just google yacht girls. The term started when beautiful girls hung out at Cannes Film festival and then just with rich guys on their yachts in the med. It has evolved into just high high priced escorts to rich guys and not necessarily on yachts and generally referring to celeb or semi celeb women doing it. It is apparently a real thing. A lot of blinds here about actresses you would never guess that have been 'yacht' girls or still do $$$$ escorting.

11:17 AM

Crazycatlady

said...

Lol at “power ginger” thank-you @Don... you’re on fire today 🤓

11:30 AM

Nutty_Flavor

said...

Unpopular opinion, but the Queen saw her sister, who was also the "spare", destroyed by being unable to marry the man she wanted. Harry is 6th in line to the throne, or will be by the time he marries, so I don't think the vetting is as extreme for Meghan as it would have been for anyone William dated.

11:30 AM

Daily Union

said...

Factor this into the equation. Meghan Markle is paid to perform. (In all kinds of situations). She has now lucked into the gig of a lifetime, playing the role of Prince Harry's loving wife. The Princess role- with the being American,divorced,multi-cultural thrown in for distraction and media-adoration bonus points. The reason for this performance is simple, Prince Harry is a closeted Gay Man, who wishes to pursue his lifestyle behind closed doors. Ignore the manufactured P.R. around his bachelor lifestyle, and examine his past "romances". Think "straight" about this, no man in his position, or a Joe on the Street would ever consider marring Meghan Markle , with the slightest knowledge of her past. This is just a "Hollywood type" arranged marriage to give the Stars cover.

11:35 AM

Gordon Scott

said...

Agree, Nutty_Flavor; it's a lot lower standard for Harry than Billy, as Harry will never inherit. And the standards for Billy are lower than they were for Chuck. Still, I'm sure that Betty and Phil Battenberg think that Uncle Eddie's spouse was enough yachting for the family. The question is: do they care enough at their ages to push back? Certainly there is no cattier bunch than the palace staff, and if there's a rumour, they either know about it or they started it. Perhaps Meggie has a unique ability to charm them. Stranger things, what? Meanwhile, Sarah and Andy grind their teeth....

11:46 AM

Gordon Scott

said...

@Daily Union: well, that would explain a lot, now, wouldn't it? Uncle Eddie is said to have been fond of playing the whistle, with Wally cheering him on. Perhaps grandma Betty should create him Duke of Windsor.

11:53 AM

Lisa

said...

Clearly Me-again (good one) got herself knocked up. It’s the only way the Windsor’s would agree to this ridiculous marriage. A black prostitute marrying a royal. Only in Hollywood. What a dumb skank.

11:55 AM

VRWC

said...

+1 That made me spit out my drink.

12:10 PM

Andi F

said...

She's the usual actress, a user and social climber, who believes her own hype. I sometimes watched Suits and didn't know her real name until she got with Harry, B grade is being generous.

12:25 PM

drerocks79

said...

SdAuntie A LOT of rich men end up marrying their favorite escort. The upper east side is filled with 'em

12:28 PM

Unknown

said...

👍

12:34 PM

Normal. Yes indeed.

said...

Really rich people own yachts. Yacht girls are hookers that charge prices only rich guys can afford. Hence the term yacht girl. Go spend a weekend in the yacht...

12:39 PM

os75

said...

She must be good

1:16 PM

Glitter

said...

Remember: Long ago, a blind here revealed that Grace Kelly was a yacht girl.

1:26 PM

Nutty_Flavor

said...

Grace Kelly had a healthy sexual appetite. I’m not sure she would have required payment for a weekend on a yacht.

1:36 PM

Lindy

said...

I assume yachting means more than yachting.

1:57 PM

Lindy

said...

But don’t you think - to use the water metaphor - that that ship has sailed. I think it’s too late to back out even if he or his family are having doubts.

2:00 PM

Mango

said...

@ Nutty_Flavor - excellent point about the queen seeing her beloved sister destroyed by not being about to marry her divorced lover. Maybe the Q has accepted that her heirs will marry who they want? Her (alleged) favorite son married and survived Fergie, so maybe Markle will be a walk in the park. (Or a flash in the pan??) @ Observant one - When H and M were doing their interview, the thing that caught my attention/bugged me was their talk about roasting a chicken. "Look! We were cooking our simple dinner! Just like you regular folk!"

2:20 PM

Andi F

said...

Grace was supposedly sexually abused by her dad growing up, and used the casting couch in HW for acting roles and yachting in Europe for the income.

2:22 PM

Randaleese

said...

OH BS!! Trust! The Queen knows everything..,and apparently, it’s either NOT TRUE or Queen realizes times, they are a-changing and DGAFF!

2:27 PM

fairylights

said...

I'm pretty sure that Harry had to ask the Queen's permission before he could get engaged to M.M., I don't think he's far enough down the list to be able to avoid that. I'm also pretty sure that the gossipy Buck palace people made sure her majesty heard about all the info about her, not to mention any information their version of secret service dug up. My guess is that it's a combo of Harry being down the list of succession and the example of all four of her children being divorced were enough for her to decide it wasn't that important....as long as she doesn't continue on like Fergie did. @ Don, 'Power Ginger': Love it!!!

2:44 PM

emeraldcity

said...

Grace wasn't abused, no sexually anyway, her father pretty much ignored her, the boys were everything to him, not to mention that stories abound that he believed she was not actually his daughter. She spent her whole life trying to win his praise and affection which resulted in a father figure complex,and affairs with much older men (Bing, Gary Cooper, Gary Grant) as a dark spin off from this. She was no angel and actually very catty to other women, Ava Gardner called her out in public on her hypocrisy, Liz Taylor and Joan Collins were in the room at the time. As for this blind, I take it with a pinch of salt , MI6 would have everything on this woman and the Queen would be told as she seems quite taken with Meg, it probably came from one of Harry's friends who isn't happy about him marrying Meg so is sticking the knife in. Enty is safe from litigation because the royals never sue about gossip , too many other things might come out in court.

2:46 PM

Do Tell

said...

She is the new Koo Stark. I guess time will tell if things play out the way they did with Andrew and Koo.

2:49 PM

346NYC

said...

I see ZERO chemistry between Harry and MM. Is this like a George Clooney/Amal Beard situation? Also, I've seen some reports that Harry is not Charles son. Some have reported he looks like one of Diana's lovers. Any truth to this? If there is any truth to the former, why should the Queen care who Harry marries if he's not related to the Queen anyway?

2:53 PM

Observant One

said...

@Mango - The roasting a chicken bit made me wonder if it was a code phrase....they said it multiple times. I know I'm cynical as hell, and maybe I have read too many of Enty's blinds over the years, but I thought it was way too contrived. I am trying to figure out why she ALWAYS has her hand on his arm, or his back. So far, my reasoning has led me to think she knows he misses his mother desperately, so she has determined that he needs constant touching and reassurance. I don't like being catty, and I am certainly not racist, but this relationship seems too contrived, like the roast chicken.

3:27 PM

Comment deleted

This comment has been removed by the author.

3:27 PM

Dallas Alice

said...

Or, maybe they were just roasting a damn chicken and he proposed. I certainly have no means of comparison, but I’d imagine cooking your own dinner is quite a lark when you have to make an appointment to see your own Grandmother. She’s definitely grabby, but Americans tend to be more like that. Perhaps they’re actually in love. I’ll choose to think they are.

3:39 PM

Donna Marie

said...

346NYC, apparently Diana did have an affair with a ginger. However, Google Lady Sarah McCorquodale and Baroness Fellowes. Those are Diana's older sisters, they are both gingers, and Harry strongly resembles them. I've also noticed that as Harry gets older, he begins to look more and more like a Windsor male in all but coloring. (though the height comes from his mother's side) All in all, I believe he's a genetic Windsor.

4:14 PM

Hortensia

said...

No one ever says what the past allegations are about Markle. Just this yacht story. Harry has definitely changed his demeanor/appearance since the engagement announcement. A couple of psychics have said it won't last more than five years. Markle was supposedly up for the next Bond movie as a Bond girl. That would have sent her career into the stratosphere. Hmmmm.

4:22 PM

Lisa

said...

She is pregnant.

4:37 PM

BCC

said...

Only Markle says she was supposed to be a Bond girl. Nobody else - certainly not the Bond film people.

4:39 PM

just sayin'

said...

What I find interesting is the theory that Diana's biological father is James Goldsmith. She looked so much more like Jemima Kahn then the Spencer sisters. If true, it would make Harry's children with Meghan 1/4 Jewish and 1/4 Black.

4:41 PM

Gordon Scott

said...

Meggie a Bond girl? Not the lead, certainly. She's not that hot. As for Harry being one of mom's lovers' sons? The timing is wrong for that. Also, there's a pic of grandpa Phil at about Harry's current age, with beard. They look like brothers. He's got the Battenberg Y chromos. The word among those who served with Harry is that he's a good chap. Passing on the family tradition of the holiday hunt because Meggie doesn't like it--plus his body language around her--well, that doesn't bode so well for the future. But his gonads are surplus to requirements now, thus he can just be gossip fodder. It's a shame, as he was thought to be the one to bring back some rascally masculinity in house Battenberg.

4:49 PM

Elamina

said...

It was interesting to me that the last (and only other) blind by Enty that 'revealed' Markle as a yacht girl disappeared from this site overnight. It said like more and more people were coming forward about it and named other women from MMs Deal or No Deal days that did the same to supplement their income. They commanded higher rates because of being on a tv show.

5:06 PM

Scandi Sanskrit

said...

I saw "Diana: In Her Own Words" on NatGeo channel. It was originally first aired during a lunar eclipse (well, that was my memory of it). She said she used to hear voices. Like Prince Charles proposed to her and said something along the lines of, "you realise that means you might become queen someday?" And the voice said, "you won't Ben queen but you'll have an important role." And it came true... 🌙

5:51 PM

Scandi Sanskrit

said...

⚡️GO GO POWER GINGER! ⚡️ (He'd be the Orange Ranger)

6:02 PM

theassangefiles

said...

Longtime reader here, first comment - Had to ask if anyone remembers that Jimmy Saville, underage rapist and sex purveyer extrodanaire was also intimately connected with Prince Charles and considered his "mentor", and was allowed to come and go in Buckingham Palace as he pleased. The Queen knows how to handle little Miss Markle, and it will be to appear to be kind and accepting but make no mistake, Markle will be lucky to last through the next five years, and the tabloid thrashing that is going to hound both her and Harry will "teach" him to fall in line next time around, no doubt about it.

7:54 PM

Scooterchick

said...

My take: Meghan is approved because with all her diversity (American, actress, biracial, divorced) and the distraction it has created, she makes Camilla look less awful, and a bit less controversial. It's pretty clear that the Queen plans on Charles taking the reins, and whatever Camilla will be (Consort? Surely not Queen, one hopes!), she will be in a position that has not occurred in the British Royal family in centuries, as a divorced publicly acknowledged adultress & cuckolder (or is it cuckoldress hahah?). Royal PR are very savvy & trying to spin Chas. & Camilla as less unsavoury than they have been viewed in the past. BTW, has anyone seen Tracy Ullman's take-off on Csmilla? Very spots on Youtubr: it's a scream.

7:58 PM

McJ 2051

said...

So PH has a Pretty Woman fetish I guess?

8:32 PM

boredatwork boredatwork

said...

I agree with the commenters saying that Harry has hit a new low. Everything about those 2 seems too fake and contrived - at least on her side. She's really a mediocre C list actress, with mediocre looks. A trip to Top Shop on Oxford Circus, and one can spot 100 Markles, much better looking than this one. He could do so much better, but prefers to settle for average, in every way.

9:43 PM

Mrs Meat

said...

I know someone who moved in Royal circles who says it's openly acknowledged within the fam that Harry is James Hewitt's son. But personally I can see Prince Charles in his looks.

12:41 AM

Media Viewer

said...

I heard it was the other way round. Awkward when a mutual acquaintance turned out to be a girl from Harry's past. At 1st, Meghan Markle repeatedly turned down Harry's invitations because she had a boyfriend. I remember reading about that back in 2015 when Harry 1st spotted her as an exercise guru on Canadian TV. Finally she agreed to go on a date with him and it was arranged through a friend. Could it be that not every human with a vagina is a whore for fame, money and power? Could it be that those at the British tabloids are just bitter? They hated Frank Sinatra too. That's why they called them rats. Could it be they buried the truth about Harry trolling for chicks on TV programs because it's unseemly?

12:43 AM

Nonya Bidness

said...

A new low? I tend to think his low was the Nazi costume. So you think he only consorted with pedigreed virgins before? Curious what bothers you most about MM, her sexual history or her race.

6:37 AM

Nutty_Flavor

said...

@Media Viewer, not sure where you got the idea that the British tabloids were "bitter" about Markle. Both the Daily Mail and the Sun have been outdoing themselves to sell her to the British public. The last 3 Markle headlines in The Sun: "Get that Markle Sparkle: Meghan Markle's Skincare guru on the perfect prep for your big day." "One is Amused: Meghan Markle's Xmas gift to the Queen caused Her Maj to burst out laughing." "Royal Knees Up: Pubs to open until 1am for 2 nights to celebrate Harry and Meghan's wedding." The tabloids are there to get clicks - and have a healthy side business being paid for placement, which is why you see so many articles about Emily Ratajkowski in them. Whether the positive Meghan articles are paid-for-placement or just a way to stay in good graces with the Firm is unknown. The fact is, though, that the British tabloids are not tearing Meghan down at this point in time.

8:39 AM

Em Lew

said...

It can't be anything worse than what Prince Andrew got up to with his friend Epstein. Then there's Charlie's friendship with serial abuser Savile. The Royals can cover up scandal no problem, as they have the security services doing it for them.

2:06 PM

Count Jerkula

said...

I hope one of Markle's tricks had his cabin wired for video and sound, and the tape finds its way to a foreign file locker or tube site.

3:58 PM

Enny

said...

He looks so much like a young Prince Philip it’s ridiculous. How can people ignore such a strong resemblance to his father and paternal grandfather? It makes no sense. Yes, Diana had affairs. No, she did not father Harry with one of them.

6:03 PM

boredatwork boredatwork

said...

None - you must be one of those ppl who judges ppl by the colour of their skin, and not the content of their character. To you, MM, who is average in every way, is special, because of her race, while I don't give a shit about her race, and I dislike her purely for what sort of person she appears to be. Reverse racism it's called.

12:48 AM

Gail Banks

said...

Fairylights - only three of Queen Elizabeth's children are divorced, not four. Prince Edward is still married to Sophie Rhys-Jones.

4:56 AM

La-Juice

said...

as much as I dislike him, remember, Charles too knows what its like to be forbidden to marry who he loved- and look at the lengths he ultimately went ot and the disaster that ensued. Maybe Harry really loves her- given his past, I have to believe he knows all about her. I bet the castle/crown staff just keeps all of Meghan's indiscretions/past secreted from the very old Queen, whose husband is failing... can't be too hard.

12:52 PM

Sharon Betz

said...

Does anyone have info on Joe Guiliano Meghan Markle first husband? Joseph J. Goldman-Guiliano, Northwestern grad, criminal defense attorney in MA?

8:01 AM

[holbyconfessional]

Holby City S20 E25 - Primum Non Nocere - Part 2

Fuck me, that was a bit of a rollercoaster!  I should probably start with Jac, but let’s face it, most thoughts (and feels) I’ve had around this episode are Berena related, so I’m just diving straight in.

I’ve been prepared for the worst.  And it’s pretty horrific watching them fight and pick at each other for the first large part of the episode.  I’m still very much of the opinion that we were cheated out of a great deal of happiness in the first days of their relationship, by their new romance taking so much of a backseat before being so quickly derailed by Elinor’s death.  So, whilst it has been beyond wonderful to have Bernie back on our screens for a couple of episodes, to not really see much happiness for the majority of those eps was still tough to take.  BUT, there were really pure and wonderful moments in the painful angst.  From the moment that Bernie walked into Greta’s cubicle, after her chat with Fleur, just the way she only had eyes for Serena was just beautiful.  Followed, of course, by the chat on the corridor floor, the reminiscences about Elinor (yes, I shed a tear, because CR’s acting was just sublimely good), and even the break up scene, which I actually legitimately sobbed through.  Because JR’s acting after Serena went in to meet her grand-niece was just that sublimely good. 

And of course, who could fault the post-Fleur and Donna Serena intervention scenes, when Serena chases after Bernie?  Somebody had to talk sense into Serena, because who in their right mind would let Bernie go??!!  And as for asking Bernie to wait, let’s face it - Bernie is ex-army, she is used to being separated from loved ones for extended periods of time, and whilst I’m not suggesting it’s easy for her, nor her choice at this point in her life, she would hardly say no to something she’s learned emotionally to deal with, right?  And THANK YOU, HOLBY FOLKS - because, she’ll be back, soon enough...  (I’m not sure I’ve ever been quite so grateful to be proved so wrong!)

The thing with Berena is, that whilst it has been heralded as this hitherto unrepresented older lesbian relationship without death (if you choose to overlook the death of Serena’s daughter), it’s actually much more than that.  It’s been pigeonholed, but I actually think it stands it’s place in the grander scheme, and whilst it means so much to so many, it’s much more than just a ‘lesbian’ relationship.  It deserves to be up there amongst any relationship, regardless of gender/identity of the participants.  I literally can’t remember a time in Holby history where any relationship has been treated with such care and attention - and I think we do have the representation aspect to thank for that, but (and I may be waxing lyrical, and not making that much sense), to me, it is ‘all that’. 

Anyway, and loathe as I am to admit it - there were other storylines in tonight’s show.  And other aspects to Serena’s story!  So, here we go.

Gaskell’s monologue to an unconscious patient which kicked off the show, and was shown throughout.  I had initially thought it was Jac, and was most glad at the end of the ep to be shown that it wasn’t.  I think it was that first patient, the one that I’d initially thought was a loved one, who has been in the coma for years, although still not sure.

I have to admit, I still feel like I don’t quite get all of Gaskell’s storylines.  It might have something to do with not catching some of what he mutters, but it feels like it’s one of the least coherent stories that they’ve run, and it’s all done almost in subtext.  I’m not a stupid person, but I do constantly find myself wondering what the hell is happening within that story.  So, he’s acknowledged that Meena is right, that patients are dying from encephalitis, but he lied to Meena and Roxanna by telling them that his latest patient is responding to treatment, when in fact he isn’t, and won’t.  But none of that really matters, because Jac realises that she’s got a 50/50 of dying, but wants to go ahead anyway, because death is better than a life with neurological deficits, or pain, despite the fact she has a daughter.  And Gaskell pretends to laud Meena for her actions, but is secretly looking for a way to get rid of her for derailing his maniacal need to trailblaze, which of course yap-flapper Meena gives him by not managing to keep her idiot mouth shut to the random researcher (who happens to tell Gaskell that they’ve been running basically the same trial in mice with the same 50/50 outcome).  Incidentally, in my opinion, Gaskell was quite right to boot Meena.  He just did it for totally the wrong reasons.  Fwiw.

Aaaand, Jac has had the surgery, it has ostensibly worked, so now we just get to wait and see if she dies.  And let’s face it, she’s gonna get a fever and high CRP etc, regardless of the final outcome, coz otherwise, where would the drama be??!!

Good to see Henrik, and so lovely to see him worried about Jac. I like to think if he’d remained CEO, Gaskell’s shadiness would have been uncovered by now.  And continuing with Jac, I simply love that Sacha knows her so well - as he showed when speaking to Fletch about how she deals with things, and the anniversary of Jasmine’s death.

The meeting room was quite fun, with Sacha inadvertently spilling Fletch’s romantic dilemma to Abigail, although yet again, Sacha being used as the buffoon was a shame.  But I can’t deny that it was mildly comedic.  Sadly, yet again, it seems to have only drawn Fletch and Abby closer together.  I find myself wondering, am I the only anti-Flabby campaigner out there?  RM has all but confirmed that Flac will never happen because neither she nor AW want it to, and I’m ok with that, because I was massively anti-Flac when those rumours first surfaced, but I just can’t get behind Flabby either, and the worse part is, I just don’t know why!

I think my final thoughts of tonight are regarding Fleur Fanshawe (which actually also brings me nicely full circle back to Berena!).  Fleur was always quite a pushy character, but tonight, she was downright offensive intially in her flirting over Serena.  I felt quite awful for Bernie for a bit there.  I’m really glad we got a bit of backstory/filler to explain how Fleur is suddenly Obs&Gynae after being General Surgical, because that was flummoxing me a little.  Shame the backstory didn’t extend to what happened to Sophia.  Although why should it, I suppose.  Relationships come and go, and I guess Serena has all the low down considering how often she goes for drinks with Fleur - as suggested by Fleur to Bernie.  So, after starting the episode as quite a thorn in the side, I guess she finally came through, first with her chat to Bernie whilst Bernie was outside having a fag (and looking unbelievably glorious), then later with her remonstration of Serena for letting Bernie go, thereby precipitating their reconciliation, albeit for 48 hours and then long distance.  So, I say, go Fleur.  And if you do what you promised Bernie and stop chasing Serena, and just be your gloriously bolshy, gay self, chasing after your own unattached ladies, then please stay on our screens and brighten these grey days until Bernie’s next return!!

[dierwolves]

ivar ragnarsson; touch

Request: Not requested.

Notes: I really can’t believe I’m back to posting… I dunno when I’ll post again after this; I hope it’ll be soon! For the moment, I’m glad I’m handling my writer’s block quite well. This is the first SMUT I write, idk if it’ll be okay. If you’re not comfortable with it, don’t read it! Btw this is the first time I write about Ivar or Vikings at all so I’m not sure the portrayal of the character and the context are alright. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

You were his slave, in every sense of the word. You had been for quite some time now. Even if it would have seemed awful to be Ivar the Boneless’s slave, you had somehow settled into a comfortable dynamic. Apparently, he had considered you quite a dangerous person, as you had access to himself and his possessions every hour of every day.  Yet you had proven yourself to be loyal, and, what he greatly valued, quiet. You knew that even if he liked you, a small mishap could make him slit your throat with no remorse, so you kept to yourself and did your job.

On the other hand, it seemed that you were the only person Ivar trusted enough to touch him. It happened one time you helped him get into the bathtub. You had done it a thousand times, but that time in particular, you noticed how his eyes wouldn’t leave your cleavage –even if it wasn’t that remarkable–. When your hands trailed down, you gave a little jump, as you noticed his hard member against your hand. You moved it away quickly, but he grabbed your hand and looked at you straight in the eyes. His blue ones gave away fear and anxiety. You had heard the rumours about his inability to have sex. You could guess, he had never got hard before, and he feared it would disappear as soon as it came. So you moved your hand towards his cock and started stroking it. It’s not like you could say no, and it’s not like you wanted any other man. This would be considered a privilege.  You rubbed him up and down, changing the speed and strength, keeping your eyes on your working hand. When you dared look up, you noticed his eyes closed, which gave you some relief. When he came, he released a huge sigh, and his seed got lost in the tub’s water. He didn’t say anything, apparently shocked with what had happened. You didn’t know what to do, so you kept washing him.

Ever since, in every bath, you had helped him find his release. Much to your surprise, it gave you some comfort, as it was the limited human contact you had on your daily life.

Now, you were in his room, cleaning, and simply keeping an eye on him. He had been wounded after the battle, and although he said he was fine, he had been convinced to stay in bed for a day, to make sure there was nothing wrong with him. His eyes followed you around: when you weren’t looking, you could feel his eyes on your back, and when you turned around, he felt no shame at longingly staring at you.

“Could you stop for a moment?”

His voice startled you. He barely talked to you, unless he had to give you a direct order, and that barely happened now, as you had been serving him for so long you already knew what you needed to do.

“Do you need anything?”

You barely talked to him either. Even if you both had somewhat of an intimate relationship with each other, you kept your mouth shut.

“I was thinking… about what you do to me in the tub.” You swallowed hard. What was he about to tell you, you wondered. “Could you make that happen again? Now?”

Your mind worked quickly. It’s not like you had much of an option. Although you feared Ivar would turn violent, he seemed still weak from the battle.

You approached the bed where he was lying. He held his weight on his forearms. You kneeled on the bed and started untying your dress. You decided to sit on his lap. Your eyes never darted from his face, always watchful of his reactions. It didn’t seem to harm his legs, so you started moving your hips in circles over his dick. It had started to get hard. While you didn’t stop the movement from your hips, you finished unbuttoning your dress, falling from your shoulders and leaving your breasts swiftly bouncing in front of his face. You saw how doubt crossed his face. You guessed that as much as he spied on his brothers in the barn or any other location, he really didn’t know much about this. You grabbed his hands and brought them to your chest. It wasn’t hard for him to guess what to do. He started squeezing and pinching your hard nipples –from the cold and from the excitement–. You kept pressing his now harder dick under your dressed under parts. You allowed yourself to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of his hands fondling your breasts, but it didn’t last long. Your eyes widened when you felt something wet around your right nipple. You looked down in awe as Ivar sucked strongly on your left nipple, like a baby would suck on her mother’s, while he held the other boob on his hand. His breathing was irregular, and he had to open his mouth every couple of seconds to regain his breath. Much to your surprise, he seemed to be enjoying this more than you were, although by the pooling wetness under your dress and his already hard cock, you both were getting pleasure from it.

“Ivar, let me take off my dress…” You stood up removed your dress. When you finished you looked at him, struggling to take off his trousers. You were quick to help him get rid of them. You went back to sit on his lap, but he stopped you. You looked at him confused.

“Can you lay on you back, Y/N?” You looked at him in awe. It was probably the first time he had addressed you by you name. While you stared at him wide eyes, he pushed you against the bed. “Open your legs.”

“But Ivar, we could already-”

“No. I’ve never tasted a woman before. I want to know what it is like.” So he lay on his stomach, his head in front of your pussy. You waited, but he was just looking at your private parts with equal curiosity and lust. You guessed, once again, that he had never seen a woman this way so close before. He cautiously gave a long lick over your pussy lips. A moan escaped your mouth and you lay on your back. Watching your reaction, he repeated the action. You closed your eyes and let your mind wander. It seemed like this time, he knew a little better what to do. He sucked on your already sensitive clit. You wanted to grab his head and pushed him deeper, but you didn’t dare to annoy him. It wasn’t necessary either, as Ivar had already pushed his tongue inside your wet hole. You both moaned at the same time. He kept tasting you, your mind was blurry and you couldn’t even focus on what was going on, when Ivar stopped. You opened your eyes in time to see him hovering over you. You had to be thankful about the wetness of your core, because Ivar didn’t stop for a second, and he pushed his member inside you. It didn’t last long. It was Ivar’s first time inside a woman, and you were already reaching you climax from his previous work, so after a few thrusts, you came, and soon did Ivar. He kept his eyes opened, attentively watching your reaction. You laid under him, breathing heavy, looking at him, waiting for what he would do. When he noticed, he moved to the side, and lay next to you on the bed. You turned your head to him. He rested still on the bed. Eyes focused on the ceiling, and hands resting over his stomach. You wondered if his legs hurt.

“Was that good?”

His question didn’t surprise you; you guessed it was more centred on his ability to have sex than your wellbeing. You nodded your head, and he released a small sigh.

“I enjoyed it too.”

That did surprise you. You didn’t expect any kind of praise or nice words from Ivar, even if they were about your love making.

“Do I… leave? Continue with my chores?”

He bit his lip, apparently weighting his options. He seemed to be debating with himself. “Would you mind to stay a little longer?”

You nodded, grabbed a blanket nearby and covered both of you with it. He got closer to you, and so did you, but you didn’t touch each other, nor hold each other, that was way too intimate. You simply lay still under the blankets, looking at each other’s eyes, until you both would fall asleep. Both of your bodies were warm enough to be aware of each other’s presence. And just like that, you fell asleep, surrounded by Ivar’s warmth.

[unkindnessofone]

5SOS. Rooms You’re Tall In

It’s up! This was a much tougher one to write. I thought I knew where it would go, I had so many notes, but here we are. I would love to hear some feedback. Sending this one out as a thank you to the darling @gotsbadblood. They are always encouraging and supportive. I appreciate it. Also if you love Taylor Swift, it’s a blog worth checking out. 

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

They had been there before together multiple times, but this felt different than following their parents around for their respective vocations and seeing Parisian life from the safety and comfort of their parent's laps. He was travelling the world as an actual musician, making money for his songs and hearing people that weren't from his neighborhood being impacted from feelings and words that had been produced by his fingers and mind. Then there was her, studying in the city to become a chef, being screamed at in a language she hardly understood while prepping plates for some of the most appetizing food she had ever seen. She wasn't Luke Hemmings daughter when she had her culinary whites on. He was still trying to shake off the shadow of his dad as it danced behind him every time he stepped on stage. 

Taking her bohemian dreams to a different level than she had been able to back home in Sydney, Penelope skipped steps on her way out of the subway pit as found herself in a more touristy part of town. She held the crochet strap of her usual purse over her chest as the bottom of her elephant pants, coloured teal, mustard yellow, and a rich purple, dragged delicately over the dirty street. Her eyes were tired, the bags beneath them almost matching the colour of her lightweight pants, but she had taken today as her first day off of work since moving to France. She couldn't spend the Saturday sleeping in and losing out on time with her best friend. Penelope walked straight into the hotel lobby as if she belonged there like any other guest and headed to the stairwell. Connor had texted her his room number and it would have been easier to take the elevator, br she had been surviving off butter, sugar, and jam. Besides, walking up the stairs felt exciting since her doctor and parents had banned almost every other physical activity. 

"Hi, rock star." Grinning from ear to ear, Penelope mustered up some energy from the vitamin she took upon leaving her place as soon as Connor threw the door open, his hair as light as it had ever been and terribly curly. As if they had a mental countdown between them, they hurried to hug one another - laughing as they did. 

"God, I missed you." Hugging her tighter, shaking at her touch, Connor moaned into her ears that were poking him back with her gold conch shell studs his mother had made for her. "You smell like...thyme? Is that thyme?" Chuckling, he asked as she started to slip out of his arms. 

Penelope lifted up her arm and smelled her elbow before yanking on the collar of her plain white t shirt and sniffing it next. She was low on laundry. From living on her own, she was learning she hated to do laundry. 

"Honestly, I smell like a pantry now. It's just my life." She shrugged, smacking her arms against both her sides. "I brought you something." She raised his brows with peaked interest as she unzipped her purse and reached around into its contents, producing a small jar of mixed berry jam. On the tightly sealed gold label, she had stamped 'Penelope Hemmings Jam' with a small conch shell in black ink. 

"Thank you." Connor held it in one hand, admiring her self made label and leaning in to hug her again, using one arm this time.

"So you can taste home wherever you go." 

"I have something for you too." He held his hotel room door open wider for her, allowing her in as he stepped through to where his suitcase was resting open on the queen sized bed. 

Fidgeting with the fabric of her pants, Penelope looked around and the room and concentrated on nothing. It felt uncomfortable to be alone in his hotel room. Connor was her best friend and they had been countless hotel suites together, but last time they had seen one another they had kissed. She wasn't sure if that had stopped meaning anything or where they were at yet. Over texts neither of them had brought it up. 

Penelope leaned her shoulders against the wallpapered stripes and watched him. He looked stronger somehow which made little sense to her as they hadn't been apart very long and she followed his life closely online. Penelope chalked it up to her head. She was trying to learn French and cooking with a permanent concussion, maybe it was making a mess of the way she saw things even a guy she knew better than the instructions to the perfect pancakes. 

"Here you go." Standing up straight again, Connor offered her a closed yellow envelope with her nickname written across it in his forever clumsy penmanship. "Four tickets to the show tonight." 

"I can't believe I am going to see you live in an arena tonight." Grinning, Penelope took the envelope and then held her arms up above her head to shake them around with wiggling excitement. 

Laughing, Connor stepped in to hug her again, picking her up and twirling her around which invited high volume laughter from his favourite girl. He snuggled his face into her neck, breathing in her new scent, but when he went to part his lips slightly and leave a kiss behind he was surprised that she leaned her neck and head away. Connor took the cue and politely put her down on an end corner of the bed.

"So are you best friends with your idol now? Or one of them." Penelope teased while leaning back comfortably onto her flat hands. Everyone knew that as much as he was inspired by the opening act, Ashton Irwin was Connor's truest idol. 

"Paul is cool." Humbly, Connor informed her. "He's living up to my expectations, but he definitely is more quiet and distant than I thought he'd be, ya know? With how crazy he is on stage." 

"People are full of surprises." She mused even though more often than not, Penelope found herself guessing what was about to happen before it did and being correct. She was a good judge of character and she figured that came from meeting so many people at once constantly as a little girl on tour. One had to learn fast who was good and who was just pretending. 

"Like Molly." Connor mused with a wiggle of his brows, sending them under his mess of curls that were someone else's nightly problem now. 

"I can't even imagine your Dad's face." Penny shook her head, eyes shut with disbelief. A dedicated cheerleader of a father, Penny imagine her Uncle Ash still hadn't picked up his frown from the floor since finding out Molly had been arrested.  

"They were way more upset she was in a relationship and didn't tell them." Honestly, Connor had been bummed out that his sister didn't confide in him either. He laid down on his back on the bed next to Penelope, hanging his legs off the edge. 

"He's really hot." Pen mentioned casually. When the news filtered through the many group chats, Emmeline had taken it upon herself to send everyone pictures from the Internet of Molly's rugby beau, Flynn O'Malley. Connor stared at her blankly, absorbing her comment and trying not to expose how much he didn't care for it. It had always been him obsessing over girls and Penelope blowing off the advances of everyone. Connor wasn't sure he had actually ever heard Penny call someone that wasn't on TV hot before. He knew now that it didn't make him feel good.  

"I guess." Connor tried to laugh it off, staring at her blond hair from where he laid like it could tell him a thousand secrets. "I got to go to a radio interview and sound check in a little but. How's your French? Can you translate for me?" 

"I could, but I'm not going to." There was nothing about a life that mirrored her dad's that interested Penelope. She wanted to stray as far away from living beneath a microscope as she could. Sometimes she considered using one of her middle names or her maiden name in place of ' Hemmings' just so she was less traceable. Penelope knew how much that would hurt her father though. They had talked about it. "People would start rumours I was your girlfriend if I showed up at interviews and your show with you." Penny laughed awkwardly.

He wanted to ask her if that would be so bad, but Connor wasn't sure his singer-songwriter could take the answer, "Is that why you're bringing a bunch of friends tonight? You don't want anyone getting ideas?" He asked instead.

"I'm just proud and I want to show the people I'm close with here to see my best friend and all can do." She was staring down at him with her usual loving eyes, but the sun bleeding through his balcony window illuminated her to look like his own personal angel. 

"You're the best." His hand reached to cover hers over the bed as they both shared smiles from one another. "I've missed you." 

"I've missed you too." She had been so busy in her new life that e didn't occupy her thoughts constantly, but once a day when she was sitting on the train or learning a new French phrase, he popped into her mind and lingered. 

Connor wanted to pull her down. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and moan how much he craved her over and over into her hair and neck. She was keeping her distance from him though and he knew he would pummel some guy who made her uncomfortable. Connor would never forgive himself if he was that guy. 

"You're coming to the party tonight after, right? I want you to meet some people. They hired a bassist for us and he's so dope. He's from South Africa and might be completely insane." 

"Can't wait." Penny joked. "I want you to meet my friends too." Along with her, she was bringing some of her petite Paris family that she had naturally put together. Alexandra, Cerise, and Jules. "They're excited to meet you as well. I've been playing your music for anyone who will listen." Her cheeks blushed a mauve tone which felt unnatural since very little made her nervous. "You should probably get ready, huh?" She knew he had a busy day ahead and was just fitting her in for a sliver of time this morning.

Like a child, he whined, "I don't want you to leave." It was the same way he felt when she was packing for France ages ago.

"You got to go be the Connor, the Rock God. I have no choice, I'm just a lowly culinary student." Penny fished her hand out from under his, beginning to slouch her way off of the bed entirely. She still had things to do on her day off as well. Nobody was trying to interview her, but she had research for school and she planned to cut her own hair in the bathroom before going to his concert. Plus she had to go to the open market to pick up more ingredients for homemade jam and salsa. Canning had become a fun past time to do in her tiny kitchen with friends. It was a love second to surfing. Nothing would ever replace a board and waves for Penelope Hemmings, but staying up in her kitchen until 4 in the morning in her pajamas with good music playing and fruit in a pan could tide her over. 

"There is nothing lowly about you." He said with great conviction, his eyes screaming his opinion as a promise to her as he took her hand again. "You're the amazing Penelope Hemmings." 

After wishing Connor luck, Penelope let herself out of his suite. His lips had tainted her as she said goodbye with their knees knocking. Penelope felt like there were too many things to consider. She was falling in love with her new life and her independence. He was on tour and had always taken up with other girls. She imagined he was meeting so many different bodies now that his career was on it's launching pad. Of course, there was also the new people in her life to think about as well. 

As she squeezed between two doormen squabbling in French, Penelope reached into her purse and pulled out a bent thin paperback to read on the subway along with her cell phone in its Australian flag phone case. She had missed two texts from her friend, Cerise. The first one in French and second translated to English. The two girls had paired up on the first day of class and became fast friends over their mutual disdain for the know-it-all guy who sat two stations ahead of them. 

"I will see you there." Excitedly, Penelope texted back and tossed her phone back into her purse before heading to her subway stop. Somehow, Cerise had managed to score a brunch reservation at Cafe Lola and it was on Penny's long list of places to eat it mostly because of their lemon curd that was apparently the perfect balance of tart and sweet. Penelope was starving anyway. Today was going to be perfect. 

As soon as she pulled the black glass door open to the busy spot, Penny was greeted by cutlery clanking against plates and chatter so frequent that it was just static around her. It reminded her of being in the restaurant kitchen just without the heat and pressure. Penelope loved when she was in the middle of chaos which was strange given how little interest she had in drama. It was just that when she was surrounded by noise and movement she felt closer to the feeling of surfing.  She was tranquility in something made without control. It was thrilling.

Her eyes scanned around the room for the vibrant red pixie cut she sat beside every week day in class. Instead, she spotted Jules sitting by himself with a cup of coffee and a kindle in front of him. He was waving at her up high by the time she linked her eyes to him. His smile sent her waking by the hostess stand and through waiting groups of patron.

"Salut, Penelope." He stood up and greeted her with a hug, one hand resting on her back. She loved the way he said her name in Picardy influenced accent. It always sounded like he meant to say 'antelope'. 

Penelope kissed around the stubble on his cheek before taking a seat right beside him, the spot across from her vacant for their third. 

After exchanging pleasant how are you's en Francais and flagging down a server to order a lemonade for Penny, the Australian-American reached into her purse and retrieved the paperback that she had tucked back in after reading it on the subway. Jules turned off his kindle and moved it to the side, leaning in to give the beautiful girl his full attention. 

"I like this one better than The Three Musketeers." She told him, flipping through a couple dry pages of Gaston Leroux's 'Le Fantôme de l'Opéra.' with Penelope being the type desperate for adventures, Jules had assumed she would love The Three Musketeers, but she had texted him somewhere around chapter two giving it five thumbs down emojis. Penny found the page that she had drawn neon orange highlighter marks on with his permission. It was his clever way of helping her with her French. He gave her books to read and asked her to keep track of the words she didn't know. She had gone from requiring him to read her whole pages while she cooked him dinner in her suite to just needing help with a few words every couple pages or so. Penny dragged her nibbled finger nail to the word and tried to read it before noticing Jules was rubbing at his right knee. 

"Are you alright?" Even though she could say it French, she said so in her native tongue to better express her concern. Jules would have detected it in the way she leaned in and dropped what she was doing.

"I love that I can still get you with that." Chuckling, Jules tapped at his prosthetic leg and watched Penny relax with a sigh and fix him her meanest mug that was cuter than it was cruel. 

They met at the tapas restaurant they both worked at. Jules played piano with the jazz band and met Penny while rushing through the kitchen late for a gig. He had snatched a piece of baguette she was using for a bruschetta platter and found his chin at the tip of her sharp blade until he put it back down onto the surface. It wasn't until she was mixed up with directions on how to get home that they found themselves talking and getting to know one another better. He fit in with her friends from school because he was relaxed and the girls were wild. He had quickly become a very close friend. One of the only people she actually liked talking to about her surfing accident.  

"You're a gomer." Her Aussie accent shone as she rolled her eyes at him and leaned back into her book, turning it around to show him the words she was struggling with. She often looked them up on her own, but it was nice to be with a local that she trusted and have him show her better pronunciation and how to use the word. 

"Did you have a nice visit with your friend?" Very interested, Jules asked while leaning in and looking at the book he lent her. She was at the part where Christine and Raoul were hiding from the Angel of Music in the roof of the opera house, vowing to protect one another and love each other for eternity. 

"Yeah, it was quick. He has press and stuff." Penny shrugged. "But it was really nice to see him. He gave me the tickets for tonight. Thanks again for coming." She liked spending time with Jules and, like her, he had a true appreciation for live music. It wasn't just about screaming and having drinks for him which Penny liked because she detested both. 

"This word, bagarre," With a clean fingertip he poked under the word she had highlighted. "It would be like...how do you say?" Jules bit down on his bottom pink lip,  a small scar in the middle that she had noticed as soon as they met. "It's like a duel, but less formal. A brawl!" As he was talking, he figured it out. "Raoul would step outside of himself and brawl with them phantom in order to look after Christine if he needed to." Jules didn't even realize that he had begun to use his hands in front of him to explain the story. 

"That's what I thought." The rest of the sentence only made sense that way, but it was still helpful to hear her friend say the word aloud. "Bagarre." Penny repeated and celebrated mentally when he shot her a thumbs up, a gesture he liked because it seemed American. 

"C'est bon! Oui." Celebrating with her proudly, Jules reached over and squeezed her arm right before her lemonade was set down in front of them. Penny would have watched his hand over her if the server hadn't shown up. She peeled her eyes off of his hands that were strong and worn out from a lifetime of playing music so she could order a tray of pastries for the table. She hadn't forgotten how badly she wanted to try their lemon curd. Penny nodded her head into her shoulder and watched as Jules watched her, the arrival of her French friend who reminded her so much of Emmeline interrupting their sweet, but nervous silence. 

"I'm here and I'm hungry." Kissing Jules cheek first, Cerise exclaimed as fast as she could in French before rushing over to greet Penny with a kiss as well. While Cerise put herself together in her spot, stripping off her pink jean jacket and talking about her morning, Penelope watched Jules listen. His side profile was what had caught her gaze and daydreams in the first place. She was confused. He was very much her first real crush from the excitement that tickled her stomach when he texted her to the nerves that took over her mind when he waved 'bonjour' when he saw her at work, but then there was Connor. He had lusted after her for so long, written songs about her, and they kissed before she left in front of so many people. Did she talk to Connor about a long distance relationship or did she keep dreamed about the French jazz musician with eyes that she swore had flecks of 24 karat gold in them. 

*************************************************

Penelope hadn't been wrong about her day. It started with a tight squeeze from Connor Irwin, followed by pastries that lived up their rave reviews, a little time sitting on a bench in Rene Binet garden with Jules, both of them reading their respective books while wishing they brought sweaters. Autumn was fast approaching. She went home in a dream-like state, having a little cheese and jam while cutting her split ends in front of her perpetually foggy bathroom mirror. 

She wasn't used to the confusion that seemed to swirl in her brain like creamer freshly poured into morning coffee. She felt like a moron the way her mind was drifting between imagining a hectic life that mirrored her parents with Connor Irwin and an easy melody with Jules where they could cook, dance, and create together. Penelope used to roll her eyes when her friends would stress about boys, but she was reading her textbook with her French to English dictionary on her bed and wondering what Connor's mouth between her knees would feel like it if the way Jules said her name would feel as good as it sounded. 

She was thankful when Alexandra texted her that she was on her way so they could get ready for the concert together. The two girls who worked in the male dominated kitchen could gab together about other topics. Alexandra dreamed of running her own catering business in the South of France, only working for the most elite events, and her dreams helped Penelope figure out where she wanted to take her new skills. So far, Penelope Hemmings just really liked making jams and salsa. It wasn't exactly a launchpad for a real career. 

Once in her favorite sweater, a blue and white check pattern that her Grandma Christie from her mother's side sent her, and slipped into a very worn out pair of black jeans, Penelope was ready to spend the night with both boys who were holding the logical side of her brain captive. She rested her butt on the edge of her claw foot bath tub and braided her friends hair, breathing in the third cigarette Alexandra had lit in the last fifteen minutes. 

"I listened to your friend's music the whole way here." The older girl spoke after her drawn out inhale, her thick almost black hair being massaged by Penny's nimble fingers. "I don't know him, but does he write about you? I felt like his songs, some of them, they were about you." Alexandra had obviously figured out that the tune 'Penny and Me' was all about her new beach loving friend.

"I think so." Forever modest, Penelope explained. They didn't have a deep enough friendship yet for her to be forthcoming. They usually just talked food and work. "We grew up together, you know? Our dads are best friends, they were in the same band. I don't think I had a day without Connor until I was, like, four." It was a slight exaggeration, but they did spend more days together than apart for most of their early years. It wasn't until they grew into preteens that they started to choose to run in the same circle. 

"It sounds like he loves you." Alexandra let the cigarette smoke curl upward as she glanced behind her to inform Penny. She wanted to see her reaction even if it was lackluster. "Do you love him?" She inquired as soon as she turned her head again.

"I didn't think we were going to talk about guys..." Nervously, Penny chuckled back. "Weren't you going to give me a recipe for some kind of bore entree?" Penelope was obsessed and wanted to soak in all the different techniques and meals she could. 

"I will." She rolled her eyes. They worked together, there was time to teach the blond how to make a bore lasagna. "Do you love him or do you still have, what do you call them, giggly eyes for the drummer?" Alexandra had been working with Jules since she was hired over a year ago. He didn't ever register in her world though until she investigated who the guy walking Penny home every night was even on the evenings he didn't work. Girls had to stick together and look out for one another, she figured. 

"Googly eyes!" Loudly laughing with her head back and her blond hair falling to the dimples above her butt, Penelope taught her. She supposed that giggly eyes still described her as well. "I don't know, Alex. I wish I did. I've never been in this situation before." 

"Wait!" Letting her second braid come completely undone as she yanked it from Penelope's hand, Alex looked up with an enlarged stare and almost blew smoke right into Penelope's almost nude face. "You're a virgin?!" It was a real plot twist for Alex. She just assumed that the daughter of an Australian rock star with legs as long as pi in its entirety would have banged out a boyfriend and a few wild strangers in-between. 

"No more. I'm not talking about this." Penelope drew her line in the sand. She readjusted her almost straight hips on the bath tubs edge and took to her friends hair again. The girl who was once known for how laid back and chill she was (like ice cubes in a finished glass of iced tea) was flustered and embarrassed. She felt like every time she entered a different room in Paris she was finding a different part of herself. It was the biggest adventure of all and she was not impressed with it.

*****************************

She was blaming it on her busy mind, but Penelope felt lost in the crowd during Connor's act at the Paul Shimnowski Band concert. She had no idea how many concerts that she had attended in her entire life, all of them she had loved, but this one she wanted to sit out. She had arrived so excited with her hair falling Cher style down her back and her phone ready to take a hundred pictures a second. Instead, she felt the headaches that she suffered randomly since her accident come on the moment she was a part of the large crowd in the concession areas. She followed Alexandra and Cerise, staying next to Jules as they squeezed through to find their floor seats. Maybe, it was because all of Connor's shows she had attended up until this point had been small venues, local ones that she had seen other decent and not-so-good bands in. This was a stadium. This was the kind of show she grew up watching her Dad put on, but of course, more folksy. The smell of weed lead the vibe of the entire show. She usually danced freely at Connor's shows. She was his biggest fan and former number one merch girl after all. She would raise her tanned arms above her space buns and turn her body in every direction she could without colliding with anyone, but not tonight. Tonight, she hugged her chest and watched her friend with a tight lipped smile. The kind that silently shouted, 'I am not okay'.

Connor looked every bit like his father with his mom's chin and jawbone. Somehow he managed to hone his mother's poise and grace while still embodying his father's goofiness and charm. It made it hard to pull your attention away from him when he was practically making out with the microphone and his hands were massaging the instrument he was playing, seducing the crowd by gyrating to his own songs. It could not be denied, as far as Penelope could see, Connor belonged to the stage. He always said he was born to play music for the world and she hadn't ever doubted him. Now she knew that nobody would be able to. The crowd around her was reasonably new to Connor. He had been relatively unknown outside of Sydney until Paul Shimnowski took him on tour, but she could hear over 5,000 other voices singing along to the song, 'Slipping Away', a ballad he wrote about her, about being with someone else and wishing he was with her, a song that Penelope had heard over a hundred times, but she couldn't remember any of the lyrics. Her head knew the words, her mouth was well acquainted with them, but her brain refused to connect them to her memory. It even struck her as a surprise when he whispered her name into the microphone, singing out loud how he felt clearly, 'Penelope she sleeps so soundly, somewhere in her bathing suit...'. She had heard the line before, even recalling the first time he played the song for her in his parent's backyard while she scratched at one of his big dog's ears, but the words were lost in the fog her head produced.

To her left, looking for sanctuary, Penny looked over at Jules by her side. He was standing still, just watching Connor with a contented look blanketed by a blue glow coming from the stage they were near to. She moved her attention down to the military green chinos he was wearing. She could see at the bottom of one pant leg the fabric outlined his metal prosthetic. He had opted to wear it over his one that better resembled a limb for reasons she knew not to be her business. The sight of his prosthetic, though covered, was a source of comfort to Penny and she leaned into him, knocking her arm against his and gaining his attention for herself.

“You're the Penelope, right?” Jules asked right in her ear, still saying her name how he knew it to be pronounced and not how Connor had just sung it. He had found her to be a small recurring theme in Connor Irwin's songs especially the sappier ones.

“Indeed.” She brought both palms to her chin as if to frame her face for him before laughing gently. “Connor invited me to an after party. Do you want to come?” She knew Alexandra couldn't because she worked in the morning and Cerise was all, but seething that she couldn't because she had obligations with her own boyfriend and his very religious family that attended church every Sunday.

“I'm going back to the restaurant.” Jules explained with a half-frown. Music was his life, just like it was Connor's, and even though he would gladly take any night off for a concert or if Penelope needed him to, he loved going to see his friends play and always wanted to find an opportunity to jump in and jam. He knew he wouldn't make it to the place they both worked at until nearly 11 pm, but he also knew that his seat behind the kit would always be warm and welcoming to him.

“I didn't know.” Penny shrugged. She didn't know which event she wanted to be at more, Connor's after party or her work where Jules would be playing with the rest of the jazz group. She felt obligated to Connor's since she had agreed to be there that morning.

“You'll be okay?”

“Oh yeah, I'll be fine. I just thought it would be fun for you to come too.” She knew it would be. He was a simple calmness that her life was missing. He chased adventures and liked new experiences as much as she did, but Jules was older by a year and needed time to lay in bed and relax. He forced Penelope to just slow down sometimes.

** * ** * ******

Still hugging her chest, Penny waited backstage against a cold white brick wall that she had once leaned against before as a three year old, waiting with a stomach ache for her Aunt Grace to take her back to the hotel for a medicine and a long nap. The way her Uncle Michael told the story was that she ate too much stinky French cheese and threw up everywhere, but the truth was just simply that she had a terrible stomach ache and both her parents were working their respective on-the-road jobs.

Penelope waited behind hoards of people. Some speaking French, but most gabbing back and forth in slang English. She wasn't invisible, eyes looked her up and down, but no one engaged with her, so she kept to herself. In her purse, she still had her copy of The Phantom of the Opera if she really needed it. From over top of a small balding man and very angry looking woman, she spotted Connor's sweat slicked forehead. Penny stepped forward in a lunge movement and waved. He was in the middle of being spoken to by two people at once, but as soon as Connor spotted her, he dove between his new manager and a label executive to talk to her.

“You were out of this world!” With delight and honesty, she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck as he twirled her around.

“You're here.” He moaned against her cheek with a smile that almost broke free from the confines of his face. “You're stunning!” Connor was never light on compliments around his favorite Hemmings, but since they kissed, he felt better about always saying how he felt and right now he felt that she was the most beautiful girl he had seen all day. “Where are your friends?” He looked around, certain that he had given Penelope more than enough passes to come see him backstage without any hassle.

“They all have cooler lives than me.” She excused, as if going to an after party for a concert wasn't anything to write home about. “You're stuck with just me.”

“I'll take you.” Connor threw his arm around Penny and started to walk her closer to the people he now shared his life with. “What did you think of the show?” Her opinion was the only one that truly mattered to him.

“I think you look like a young Ashton Irwin. It was so bizarre.” Penelope tapped both her cheeks with her open palms as she looked up at Connor. “Like, I'm not sure if you're my Uncle or not.”

“Don't be sick.” He playfully shoved her away just to pull her back with the same arm he draped around her like a useless scarf. “Did you like some of the new stuff? I'm just constantly trying out new material. Paul thinks it's the best way to figure out new music, play it live in front of as many people as you can and gage the reaction.”

“It was cool. You're getting kind of Dylan-ish.” Well acquainted in the world of music even though she didn't feel like she had much artistic talent herself, Penny critiqued him. “But like both his eras, you know? Folk and electric. I dig it.”

“Awesome.” Connor tightened his arm around her, bringing her in closer for a hug. He led her into his dressing room where his two best music buddies from back home were packing up their instruments. “I'm just going to get changed. You cool to hang with the guys?” He asked, but Penelope had already escaped his grip and was sitting on a coffee table next to a bowl of pretzels, talking to the guys she knew from spending all her free time at the Wax 'n' Wake by the beach back in Sydney. Connor watched as she easily made herself fit into any room effortlessly. He wondered if his new schedule would change how he felt for her, but his feelings were strong as ever. She was still the image that waltzed through his mind when he was working on new music or the voice he wished he could hear after a particularly challenging day.

** ** ** ************************************************

Outside, where the air was crispy through a hollow wind that was announcing October was just days away, Penelope was dressed perfectly in her cozy sweater and jeans. Inside of the club, she was cooking like one of her first attempts at baklava. It turns out hotter doesn't always make something cook faster. Penny excused herself from the booth that Connor and his ban were occupying, squeezing her way past two very drunk and very French girls to make it to the stairs. She didn't realize that Connor was following behind her until she almost slapped his face off by whipping the smoking door open and shut. 

"Are you okay?" Once outside, relief from the heat and noise greeted Penny. She moved away from the group of smokers huddled by the door and stood out in the open, admiring the street lamp between limp orange leaves in the trees. "I didn't know you were behind me." 

"It's okay. I didn't need my nose anyway." Wiggling it theatrically at her, Connor teased. "Are you doing okay?" He never quite knew where she stood on parties and clubs. She was a teetotaller which changed her experience from other people throwing back shots and sipping on mixed drinks. Even before her accident, Penelope didn't have any desire to drink. Still, Connor remembered Penelope as a staple at almost every beach bonfire or high school party he went to. She was always there with her usual cooler than the rest smile and the straps of her bathing suit top poking out of a neckline.  

"Yeah, I just couldn't breathe." Fresh air had become a requirement in Penelope's recovery. She spent her first few lunch hours at school walking outside around the building, breathing in the air, and she liked to keep a window of her bachelor suite open at all times. It helped her keep her mind clear or, at least, she felt like it did. "You seem really in your element. I can tell you're happy." It was nice to not have to check. With her brothers and Emmeline, she had to check, but Connor's joy stretched through him. It practically screamed into a room. 

"I'm even happier that you're here." Connor moved in close just as Penny was lifting up her arms to tie back all her hair, allowing a cool breeze onto her neck and her small chest to press against his. He had no complaints about the movement. "I wish I had more time here. You could show me around or I could see your apartment." He tightened his hands together behind her back, right where her dimples were. "We don't have a day off til Lyon and I'm assuming you wouldn't skip school on Tuesday to hang out there with me." 

She was shaking her head before he even finished speaking, "As much as I plan to go there, no way." If she missed a day of school, she missed an entire lesson. Culinary school was fast and Penelope wasn't as whip smart as she used to be. She really had to focus now where she could slack off before. "No." She finished the same sentiment. Somehow, and she wasn't quite sure how, Penelope's hands had left her hair and were both laying flat against his chest which made him flex out of insecurity. 

"I understand." He nuzzled his head closer to hers, making their conversation private from even the prying ears of the breeze around. "We will just have to take advantage of tonight then." It was only half past eleven anyway. Connor kissed her forehead and then her cheek. It felt safe and comforting. Penelope felt drawn in, but stepped back anyway. 

"Do you want to just go and hang out in my hotel room?" Connor asked and tried to follow her eyes that she was now hiding from him. It wasn't the first time someone had asked Penny back up to their room, but it was the first time she was tempted to agree.  

"Connor -" She sighed out his name with frustration. It confused him even though she meant to direct it at herself. Penny had a hand on her forehead and her heart in her throat. "Con, I don't know what to do." He was her best friend and she didn't want to start keeping secrets from him now. 

"We don't have to go to the hotel. I didn't mean that in a pressure filled way." Right away, he hurried to defend himself. "We could just, like, catch up or watch TV." 

"No, I'm not upset about that." She assured, her hand still massaging sat her temple. "I like you. There's a part of me lately that would love to go back to your hotel room." Enlarging Connor's pupils she surprised him. He instantly cleared his throat and fidgeted his arms at the sound that she had thought about being with him. "There's a part of me that thinks nobody could ever see me the way you do, but..."

"But?" He was stunned she could follow both those reveals with a 'but' and his voice showed it. 

Penelope stared at him, her hands finally both at her side, as she tried to read her own racing thoughts. They were four steps apart from one another and Penelope swore she could hear his nerves beating beneath the thin material of his black shirt, "I like someone else too." Like it was a sin, she admitted it, flicking the words out from behind her teeth at his frozen face with the tip of her tongue. 

It was obvious he was disappointed as his head instantly fell and a few of his lazily tamed tangles of hair fell free. Penelope figured other girls might apologize in this situation, but she didn't. She made a point not to just apologize unless she was sorry and she was not sorry for how she felt for either Connor or Jules. It was nearly autumn, the wind was cold, but she was slowly burning in the parking lot with Connor almost on fire just steps away from her. Their silence was aching and she could hear it's melody like someone slamming on out of tune piano keys. 

"It's that guy in your photos?" It took Connor a minute, but eventually he figured it out. He followed Penny's photo page online closely and the only two photos he hadn't liked was one of her in her white coat at work sitting with Jules in the walk in freezer of the restaurant and the other was just of Jules eating her jam with a large spatula on her balcony. Every other picture, he laughed and admired before giving it a heart tap. 

Penelope only nodded in response. She wanted to be truthful, not hurt him. 

"The guy with one leg?" It was obvious to Connor that the picture of them in the freezer, Jules in shorts, that he had a prosthetic limb.

"Yeah. His name is Jules." She didn't know if Connor would want that detail, but it came out of her anyway. 

"You brought him to the show?!" For a second, Connor felt stung, but he puffed out his chest as he told himself that he had put on a great set. "Wait, he's the drummer at your restaurant." It was coming together quickly now that Connor had the perimeter of the puzzle pieced. He remembered in one of their earlier phone conversations that Penny had mentioned she made friends with a musician, a drummer at the place she was working at, and he was going to show her around Paris. Connor had felt jealous initially, but when she never brought him up again he figured that it was nothing. "He's a musician." He didn't like that for some reason. Maybe it was because he didn't want to have anything in common with her crush or it was because he felt threatened. Connor was on tour and this guy worked with Penny night after night. 

"I've never known you to be into somebody." And he had known Her forever even when went through a phase where she wore a lollipop body mist that made her smell like sugar cane. Connor was flabbergasted. "I really thought tonight was going to go different. Honestly, I thought we would just pick up where we left off." Connor really did imagine Penelope's hand in his and the two of them kissing backstage, their young blood rushing around as she finally let herself be with him. 

"You want to be together while you're flying around the world?" It was Penelope's time to be surprised though she supposed she shouldn't be because Connor was always fanciful and believed in fairy tales. They were different that way. 

"Yeah. Why is that so bizarre?" She had a crooked smile on and her head was posed to the side, asking him to be real. 

"It would never work." Penny had gone over the situation in her head plenty of times. She was in school and couldn't visit him whenever and he was on tour and couldn't stop by Paris whenever he felt like it. They could never be there for one another. Right now they were too restricted. Plus, she didn't know Connor to resist the attention and affection of girls who were fans of his music. 

"And it's different with Jewel - ?" 

"Jules." She corrected before he could continue. 

"He plays music too. What is it just because he wasn't good enough to tour?" 

"Okay, easy, you're not David Bowie." Penny pointed out with her face holding a frown. She really didn't want to upset Connor, she just didn't want to lead him on either. "And Jules is really talented. There's a lot of talented undiscovered people, you know that!" It wasn't that long ago that he had been recording music in his bathroom and wishing someone would give it half a listen. "I really like both of you." She didn't even know if Jules had any feelings for her, she just knew thinking about him made her feel like there was a ticking time bomb inside of her. 

"He has one leg!" Connor laughed as he raised his voice.

"So?" She couldn't believe he was bringing that up so she made sure to narrow her eyes into him and step closer, letting him know just how crazy she thought he was being. "You have dirty blond hair." She said to try and show him how moot his point had been. 

"Well, come on, Pen, what's so special about him? I've never known you to be into someone." 

"He gets it."

"It? Gets what?" Connor squinted to better follow her. "I get you."

"He gets what it's like to have your whole world change from an accident." Sighing, Penelope told him with some embarrassment. She hated having to admit that things were different for her now. 

"Wait..." He put up both his hands and waved them in front of himself as if it helped him understand what she was saying. "You have a crush on him because he's disabled?"

"Okay, fuck you." Penelope said it like she was wishing him good luck. It was simple and sincere. On her toes, she moved forward to rush away. She didn't know where she was and she couldn't remember where Montemare was from where they were standing, but in that moment, she thought being lost would be better than arguing with someone she trusted to never hurt her. Her blond hair whipped behind her like a reptiles tail as she stalked away. She could hear Connor's voice painfully calling her name, pleading, as his feet shuffled closer. Penny inhaled deeply and ignored her instinct to keep walking when she spun around. Their chests were so close to colliding that, out of reflex, Connor jumped back. 

"You being cheesed right now is so hypocritical!" She threw her hands down in fists as she shouted into him. "I like both of you a lot, yeah, that sucks, but you dated your way through your yearbook in high school while writing songs about me the whole time!" In case e had forgotten, which he hadn't, Penny reminded him with one large breath. 

"I didn't think I had a chance with you." With Penny, she was a mermaid-like angel and, around her, he was just a human with all his flaws. Connor softened, guilt leaking into his previously burning throat, Penny wasn't finished though. He had crossed a line and poked a button. He had never seen her so wound up before and he hated that it was him who had made her feel so awful. He wished now that he could step back five minutes into the past and try to handle his emotions differently. 

"You know your parents and their perfect freaking marriage that you're lusting after? You are never going to have it if you don't like yourself on your own first. I was figuring out who I was then I had my accident and I had to figure myself out all over again. I'm not going to apologize for not having time to be your girlfriend and groupie because I was too busy figuring out who I was!" Her own impulsive foolishness had ripped memories and cognitive skills from her and Penelope was very proud of how hard she worked to become someone she liked again. 

Connor has never heard Penelope raise her voice. Any time she had been cross before, she played it off cool as a cuke. He had seen her unleash a little on her younger brothers before, not him. It stung and Connor wanted to sit down on the curb and cry. Instead, he ran all his fingers through his hair aggressively holding the ends down and trying to keep from coming undone in front of her. 

"Alright, so let's pretend there's no Jules. It's just you and me, you still wouldn't believe we could do it while I'm touring?" He couldn't change Penelope's heart. If she had feelings for two people than Connor couldn't yell at her until he got his way. "No chance?" 

"I just don't see...how." Down at the tips of her scuffed up white canvas shoes, she said quietly before looking up to notice how little he cared for her response. 

"Why?" Thrusting his chin forward, he asked assertively. "What? You think I'm going to be like your Dad?" 

"What?" 

"You think I'm going to stay out all night and get fucked up? You think I'll get caught with hookers -"

"That was a rumor and you fucking know it!" Like they were guitar strings, he was playing with her nerves now. 

"Whatever. You think I'm going to cheat and not come home just like him." 

"He didn't cheat on my Mom!" Penelope growled. She had asked her mom point blank once if he had and she promised that he never did. 

"You're still the same little girl who got teased in kindergarten because her dad was in the papers and on TV! You are scared of being happy with me because of my job. Admit it!" Connor huffed at the end. He was out of breath as it has run away with his mouth. Neither of them were used to behaving this way especially with each other. "Penny, what I should have said -" 

"Get fucked, you gomer." She didn't let him correct himself. Penny dragged her spiteful glance away from him and began to walk away. She figured she would walk until she was on a Main Street and then take the last subway home. Her emotions were so heightened that she couldn't think straight. Penelope stiffened up her mouth and fought with herself before taking her low battery phone out of her purse and calling her mom. She didn't know what she would say, but she hoped it would center her. It was almost ten in the morning back home on the next day, she assumed her mom would be up running errands or getting breakfast with friends. 

She nearly broke into tears when she heard the groggy voice of a freshly awaken Luke Hemmings pick up. It played back every horrible thing that her best friend had just said. Penelope pulled her face away from the phone and checked that she had actually clicked on her mom's name. 

"Penny? You okay?" Luke checked the time on his wife's phone as he had reached over her side to pick it up. She was in the shower. "Penny, its like midnight there. " He forgot that she was going to Connor's show that night. 

"Dad, I'm lost." She hated admitting defeat. Her frustration with herself was evident.

All at once, Luke panicked, but he chose to take a deep breath and follow the advice of Penelope's doctor and therapist. He couldn't always spring into hero mode. He had to let her learn. 

"Okay, that's okay. Can you call an uber to where you are?" He inquired, sitting up and adjusting his wife's pillow behind his back for support.

"I think I'm in a park. We went to a club to celebrate after Connor's show and...and I left..." 

"Without your friends?" He didn't hide that he didn't like that.

"It's a long story, Dad." Her sigh was long and held its exasperation until the end. "I know that I'm in Passy which is, like, less than a half hour by car to my place." He was glad Penny knew that because he neighborhoods of Paris were simply French words to him. "The subway station is by Radio France." She didn't know why she knew that, but at some point someone had mentioned that to her and it stuck in her brain. "I don't know how to get there." 

"Walk North, Penny." Luke coached her while reaching around to find his phone somewhere in the bed sheets. It was right beneath his pillow. He pulled open Google and began to search on the map for Radio France. Once he had the address, he opened up his GPS app that he used to track all three of his forever wandering children. He found Penelope quickly and changed what he told her,  "I'm sorry, Penny, turn around and go straight. I'll stay on the phone til you get to the subway or in a cab." He didn't prefer either. Luke just wished he could drive her around himself. 

"Thanks, Dad. I knew where I was and then I couldn't remember. It's been really good though until now." She had Jules to walk her home from work, but she really didn't need him to anymore. She just loved being alone with the drummer and all the tattoos that decorated his arms like lights and bulbs on Christmas tree. 

"Are you alright? You could go back to the club and get a car." 

"Yeah." Hearing his voice was giving her something positive to focus on. It made her feel closer to home even though they were just over the phone. "Maybe, I should. I just want to be home."

"You will be on December 24th." Luke reminded her while laying back down, feeling calmer now that she did. 

"I meant my apartment." 

"I know, I'm just teasing. We miss you." He told her that almost every day. "You close to the club?" He couldn't tell that on his phone app.

"Yeah, like, a minute away."  

"Just take an Uber, Pen. I will wire you some money." 

"I'm fine for money, Dad." Penelope was very proud of the fact that she supported herself. She could never be like her friends who lived off their parents back accounts. Still, Luke always helped her. It was one of the only ways he felt like he could help her from so far away. "I'm here. I'm at the club." She was standing right in the back parking lot where she and Connor acted like children fighting for no reason, but because their emotions demanded it. Connor wasn't there anymore and she assumed he had gone inside with his heart racing and hands playing with his hair.

"Okay. You feel okay?" He didn't want to patronize her and ask her to do some of her memory exercises, so Luke found a more vague way to investigate. 

"I'll be fine." She wasn't about to vent to him about how Connor hurt her heart. 

"Okay. Love you, Pen. Call anytime." He always reminded her that she could.

"Dad?" Penny didn't want him to hang up just yet.

"Yeah?" 

Sometimes, to help her recollection, Penelope would walk herself backwards through her day until she was the place she needed to remember. Right now, she was in the parking lot where Connor made her feel as small as Daphne Hood was. 

"You were a good Dad. I know you were away a lot, but I still liked having you as a Dad." Penny nodded and swallowed hard, telling herself as much as she was telling him. 

"Thanks." Luke ignored that she used past tense and softened. He had been criticized harshly by people who knew him and many who didn't, so hearing from one of the kids he raised that he earned a passing grade was as comforting as the blanket he was half beneath. "I love being your Dad." He informed her as she approaches the first cars outside of the front of the dance club. 

"I'm going to go. Goodnight. Well, morning." Once he said goodbye back, Penelope hung up and put her phone back into its bag. 

In an effort to save money and work out some of her conflicting thoughts, Penelope requested for the Uber driver to drop her off on the same block as the place she worked at. It was only a ten minute stroll to her home from there and she wanted to stop in to check her upcoming schedule for the rest of the month. 

Penelope squeezed in through the kitchen door where four line cooks were smoking and swearing about the busy night they were in the middle of. When the band came on and the cocktail specials were announced was when people started to pour in. It was a very popular after hours spot for their strong drinks and a generous tapas. 

Penny wiped off her shoes on the rubber mat and went to the wall by the office. She could hear the music playing, almost recognizing the staccato song playing. Right away though, Penny knew Jules wasn't on the drums. She checked to make sure she was given the day off before her upcoming exam and then forged forward through the boiling and hectic kitchen. Her eyes checked over moving shoulders as she glanced at different meals being prepared or plated. There was always an opportunity for her to learn. All around her, she heard her name and  greeting. She felt better already. This was her makeshift home, this was her out of town family. 

She moved closer and closer to the perpetually swinging door that separated the fun loving atmosphere for the dining room and jazz club from the stresses out sweat and swear zoo that was the kitchen. As soon as she had curled one hand around it to push it partially open, a waitress she recognized as Ismay flew by with an empty tray and an annoyed expression that could staple itself into anyone's mind. Penny glanced around the busy room and found Jules right away, sitting on a bar stool with an old fashioned and keeping the beat of the song with his hand on his knee. Due to enjoying the band, he swung slightly on his chair and waved over his head almost as soon as he spotted Penelope. He thought about nodding at her to join him, but it struck him as odd that she had left her friend's party and he could tell that something had happened. She was wearing a face he hadn't seen on her before and, while he thought she was ethereally beautiful, he did not particularly care for it. So Jules carefully hopped off the stool and moved to her. Penelope came out of the kitchen entirely, standing behind the bar in her casual wear. 

"Why did you leave?" Jules inquired, leaning into the small bar door that came up to his waist and kept them apart. "Were you not having fun with celebrities?" He couldn't resist teasing her, wiggling his brows as he asked. Jules was not impressed by fancy things and name brands. He grew up with a single mother and modest means between himself and his older sister. He played music and worked as a doorman at Le Royal Monceau.  Sure, he had dreams, but he was never impressed by anyone who flashed their success and wealth around. Jules just wanted to be happy right before he fell asleep at night. 

"No." Penny sighed and rolled her eyes halfway at the thought of it. "It was weird. I'm going to home now, I just needed to check the schedule." 

"Want a walking buddy?" It was a term she had coined for him around the third time he escorted her back to her apartment. 

"No. I got it." She was worried about getting lost again, but Penelope really did want to be by herself.

"Okay. Well I'll see you...mercredi?" He could never remember the days of the week in English. Jules hoped to see her before, but he knew that was when they would both be working together. He had picked up the habit of checking her schedule.

"Yeah." Penny promised. "Thanks for coming out with me tonight. Did you like the show?" She realized she hadn't asked after the concert. 

"Yeah, it was good. Both acts were good." He admitted while waving his hand back and forth to gesture that they were really just 'okay'. Jules wasn't a big fan of folk or pop music. He grew up on jazz and classic since that was what his grandfather that they lived with played. He was the man who taught Jules everything about rhythm and built him his first drum kit. "It was weird watching someone be so in love with you in front of all those people." He half-laughed through his awkward honesty. "Did you two date?" She had always just referred to Connor as her closest friend, but the performance has all three of Penelope's French friends wondering if they had once been more.

"No." She shook her head and reached around to tighten her ponytail. "We kissed once." She said and instantly wish she hadn't. She looked down into her purse to check the time on her phone noticing that it barely had any battery life yet. She was sitting at an uncomfortable 3%. Penny missed that Jules scrunched up his nose at what she said. 

"Do you like him?"

Penny puffed both her cheeks out and let them deflate with a long exhale at his question, zipping her bag back and wondering for a second if her feelings for Connor had changed after their fight.

"I have." Realizing it was a strange way to answer, Penny shrugged. "We sort of fought at the club and we've never fought before." Penny explained to Jules, wrapping her fingers around the bar door again. "I don't know." 

"What did you fight about? Was it bad?" He wished his English was better or that her French was more extensive in times like these. Jules felt like he couldn't be as good a companion to her when their was a language barrier between them. He didn't realize his hands had curls over hers, but Penny had and she could not stop looking at them. 

"It was just bad because it had never happened before." She spoke directly to their hands. "I hurt his feelings and then he hurt mine back." She supposed that she really just described every fight throughout history, but she wasn't quite feeling as smart as usual tonight. 

"What did you say?" In a joking manner, Jules scolded her. He narrowed his eyes in and shook his head very slowly. 

"You really want to know?" She asked before realizing that she didn't know if she wanted to honestly tell him. 

"Of course." Jules laughed and squeezed her fingers under his tenderly. He couldn't imagine her saying anything that he couldn't handle. His bet was that they just misunderstood one another or that her friend was too drunk to think before speaking. 

Penelope tightened her throat which made Jules chuckle at how strange it looked and she tried to come up with a lie. She tried to reason with herself and remember how to be the cool girl that she was known as back home on the beaches of Sydney. 

"I told him..." Penny looked up into Jules eyes, but that made the truth harder to share somehow. "I told him...I said...well..." She was embarrassed by how tongue tied she felt and just spat it out, "I told him I like somebody else too." 

"Okay." Like it was nothing, Jules accepted with a casual smirk that shrugged above his chin. "So he feels a little crushed. Anybody I know? Someone in your classes?"

"You." She had come this far. There wasn't much point in beating around the bush now. Penny sometimes wondered how different things would be with Connor if he had come out and admitted to liking her instead of just trying to tell her through poetry.

Jules hands loosened on hers and his eyes lightened as he gave her a smile she interpreted as pitying. 

"Okay, so I'm going to go jump in front of a car." Penelope uttered a sentence she had heard Emmeline say a dozen times before when she didn't get her way. The words didn't feel right in her mouth, but she pushed open the bar door and tried to squeeze past him. Jules tugged on her wrist, but she yanked it away. 

"Penelope! Penelope!" He chased her through the kitchen. After she pushed open the back door, she turned and stopped him from going outside with her. He looked concerned and as if his mouth was full of a hundred things to say.

"Don't. It's okay!" She put up her hand to stop him from coming closer or uttering a word. "Cause I like you both and I don't know what to do. So you don't have to say anything and make it more weird." She really needed to work on her eloquence. 

"Can I, please, walk you home?" Jules genuinely wanted to and took her hand in his to try and make that clear.

"I'll text you when I'm there." Penelope just assumed he felt obliged to make sure she was safe. She took her hand back and ran into the night, his eyes watching until she became a dot as dark as the sky was.

****************************

After plugging her phone in and taking a pear from her bottom fridge door, Penny ran a hot bath. She soaked in the bubble free water and watched her skin grow red from the heat. It was comforting and removed how perplexed, hurt, and rejected she felt. Penelope only ate half of her pear before her stomach couldn't bare anymore. She felt too upset and her stomach couldn't handle another bite. Once she was starting to drift off into sleep, she rose out of the bath tub and drained the dirty water. Penelope wrapped herself in her favorite multi-color striped beach towel from back home and picked up her phone from in the dry sink since she used it as a DIY speaker for the Soft Cell songs she was playing to drown out the furious pain from the evening. She noticed that she had four texts and read them as she dried off. 

"I'll be in Paris soon. MAKE TIME FOR ME AND ROMANCE MY PALE ASS!!!" Emmeline sent with a string of bright coloured emojis that had nothing to do with her sentiment. 

"Are you home safe? You didn't text." Jules wrote about twenty minutes after she arrived at her building.

"I'm really sorry, Pen. :(" Connor had sent around the same time as Jules.

However, Penelope only concentrated on her dad's message. 

"Your mum and I are really proud of you. Nice to start the morning with your voice." 

Once dry, she put on a pair of sweats and a stained 5SOS shirt from their first headlining tour way before she was born and slept on her futon. She was exhausted so she didn't even bring it down from its couch form. Penelope texted no one and fell asleep wondering where her perfect day went. 

[dawnasiler]

Scarlett Johansson, Before and After

"I definitely believe in plastic surgery. I don't want to be an old hag. There's no fun in that."

That's how Scarlett Johansson felt way back in 2004, according to an interview with B Magazine.

But only a few years later, she denied EVER having plastic surgery herself. After a 2007 Us Weekly article suggested otherwise, she issued a statement calling the claims "outrageous and defamatory," and even threatened legal action (not that a lawsuit ever materialized).

Still, the Lost in Translation star, now 34, has been followed by plastic surgery rumours to this day.

With her green eyes, blonde hair and bee-stung lips, I've always considered Scarlett to be one of the most unique beauties in Hollywood. Is it really possible to win the genetic lottery and end up with her particular combination of features?!

Let's take a look at her transformation over the years to see if we can find out!

Scarlett in 1997

Scarlett Johansson at a 1997 photoshoot.

First up is this pic from a late '90s photoshoot, taken when Scarlett was only 12 years old. She'd already been acting for three years at this point! Not only can we see her natural nose, but also her natural hair colour (which was not blonde, but a light ash brown). 

Scarlett in 1998

Scarlett Johansson at the 1998 Salute to American Heroes to Benefit the Fresh Air Fund.

At age 13, the only change was that her became a little darker, and she slicked on a very '90s shade of lipstick (perhaps MAC Twig?). This was prior to having any cosmetic dentistry work, so she does not yet have that perfect "Hollywood" smile.

Scarlett in 1999

Scarlett Johansson at the 1999 premiere of 'Blast from the Past.'

The late '90s also saw Gwen Stefani turning bindis into a trend (which would definitely NOT be cool in 2019). Scarlett got on board, pairing hers with some pale lilac eyeshadow. 

Scarlett in 2000

Scarlett Johansson at the 2000 premiere of 'The Beach.'

So, here it is... the photo that Us Weekly used as evidence of Scarlett's "nip and tuck." The lighting is particularly harsh on the contours of her nose, I'll give her that. But can lighting alone account for the differences compared to later photos? I don't think so!

Scarlett Johansson at a 2000 Max Azria show.

Here's another shot from the same month, but with much softer lighting. Nope, still doesn't look like the same nose she has today! Her lips, on the other hand, do match. As you can see in these early photos, they were ALWAYS super plump—even when she was a teenager!

Scarlett in 2001

Scarlett Johansson at the 2001 Hollywood Film Festival.

By the time she debuted in Ghost World at 17, her appearance had really changed. Yes, she's wearing a lot more makeup (including the dark "ring around the lips" lip liner that was an actual thing back then). But it might not be JUST makeup. I'm wondering if her nose isn't a little bit less prominent here! 

Scarlett in 2002

Scarlett Johansson at the 2002 premiere of 'Eight Legged Freaks.'

This shot confirms my suspicions. All of a sudden, Scarlett's career was taking off, and she emerged on the red carpet with a much more groomed, grown-up appearance. There's the vibrant red hair, sophisticated makeup, and a nose ring to accentuate what looks like a newly reshaped nose. 

Scarlett in 2003

Scarlett Johansson at the 2003 Independent Spirit Awards.

Oh yes, once upon a time, Scarlett had a mullet. ("There was a total party going on in the back of my head!" she recalled. "I had a 'mullet pride' shirt that I wore.") My memory's a little fuzzy, but I don't think this wispy 'do was ever hair goals, even back then!

Scarlett Johansson at a 2003 Cynthia Rowley show.

Speaking of weird hairstyles... the same year, she also stepped out in these blonde ringlets, paired with over-the-top false lashes and glossy hot pink lips. Again, I want to point out that her features seem a little more in balance compared to when she was younger. My guess is she underwent a rhinoplasty around 2001 or 2002, before Lost in Translation made her a box office sensation.

Scarlett in 2004

Scarlett Johansson at the 2004 premiere of 'A Love Song for Bobby Long.'

At age 20, Scarlett took her hair even lighter, to a platinum blonde—a shade that really brings out her star quality. She also ditched the kooky makeup and hairstyles, likely securing a better styling team from here on out. Again, her nose has a different shape compared to before, but I would argue that this isn't her "final" nose, either. 

Scarlett in 2005

Scarlett Johansson at the 2005 premiere of 'Match Point.'

Remember this phase, when Scarlett was all about the old Hollywood glamour? She always did some sort of retro curls with a red lip, barely-there eye makeup and a low-cut dress. By this point, she had upgraded her smile to make it straighter and more even. But take a look at her nose here, and then compare it to the next shot....

Scarlett in 2006

Scarlett Johansson at the 2006 Golden Globe Awards.

Are you seeing what I'm seeing? Her nose is suddenly much narrower, which makes her eyes and lips stand out even more. Not that anyone probably noticed, when she was wearing this dress!

Scarlett in 2007

Scarlett Johansson at the 2007 Louis Vuitton Love Party.

Next, she switched things up with an extreme bleached blonde, worn straight and pinned off her face. Keep in mind that this was the same year that the nose job allegations started, thanks to Us Weekly. (And that makes perfect sense, looking at these photos!)

Scarlett in 2008

Scarlett Johansson at the 2008 premiere of 'Vicky Cristina Barcelona.'

Then, it was back to a more low-key look in 2008, albeit with a slight vintage flair. The red lipstick shows off her naturally full lips and near-perfect smile, and the darker roots make her blonde colour look natural.

Scarlett in 2009

Scarlett Johansson at the 2009 premiere of 'He's Just Not That Into You.'

Before securing her role as Black Widow in Iron Man 2, Scarlett dyed her hair dark auburn, which she attributed to a "subconscious" hope that "they'd give me a call." Since her skin tone is neutral, she pulls it off every bit as well as the blonde.

Scarlett in 2010

Scarlett Johansson at the 2010 MTV Movie Awards.

But it wasn't long before Scarlett returned to her signature blonde, this time with a warm golden hue. She rocked it with frizzy, messy waves—texture was a big deal in the early '10s—and lots of black liner. 

Scarlett in 2011

Scarlett Johansson at the 2011 Academy Awards.

Who could forget Scarlett's bob? She was way ahead of the current trend with this choppy, piecey 'do (and probably inspired countless women's haircuts over the years!). Her hair colour was a little darker here, and I appreciate that her teeth weren't blindingly white... yet.

Scarlett Johansson at the 2011 Disney D23 Expo.

Later that year, as her bob was growing out, the dark hair resurfaced—this time, as more of a cherry red than an auburn. (Is there any hair colour this woman doesn't look amazing in? The answer is no!)

Scarlett in 2012

Scarlett Johansson at the 2012 London premiere of 'The Avengers.'

Within a year, Scarlett had ditched the red dye and grown out her bob enough to pull it up into this braided updo—all the better to show off her perfectly proportioned features. She was 28 at this time.

Scarlett in 2013

Scarlett Johansson at Comic-Con 2013.

Next, she showed off a full mane of golden blonde waves, I'm guessing with the help of a few extensions. Of all the hair colours she's tried, this one is my favourite! Smoky, winged out eyeliner makes her eyes pop.

Scarlett in 2014

Scarlett Johansson at the 2014 London premiere of 'Captain America: The Winter Soldier.'

With her hair in smooth waves and a vampy colour on her lips, this look is reminiscent of Scarlett's old Hollywood style era from the mid-'00s. She was also pregnant here, and it was her last hurrah with long hair for a while....

Scarlett Johansson at the 2014 Hurricane Sandy Fundraiser.

Talk about a radical change! Just like that, Scarlett chopped off her long locks. This was taken just two months after she gave birth to her daughter—but it's far from the typical "Mom" cut. (She wouldn't rock Mom hair until 2018!)

Scarlett in 2015

Scarlett Johansson at the 2015 Independent Spirit Awards.

In 2015, she took her short cut even shorter, shaving the sides and then bleaching the top a cool light blonde. Even if you're not a fan of the pixie, there's no denying that it puts even more focus on her uniquely beautiful features and flawless skin.

Scarlett in 2016

Scarlett Johansson at the 2016 Toronto premiere of 'Sing.'

In 2016, it seemed like Scarlett was ready to grow out her pixie. Most people have to go through an awkward stage, but there's no evidence of that here. The big waves, honey blonde colour and retro cat eyes look incredible on her.

Scarlett in 2017

Scarlett Johansson at the 2017 New York premiere of 'Ghost in the Shell.'

But at age 33, she renewed her commitment to short hair by buzzing off the sides again and slicking it all back with copious amounts of hair gel. I can't say I'm a fan of this new, "tough" look, but at least she pulls if off better than Katy Perry!

Scarlett in 2018

Scarlett Johansson at the 2018 Met Gala.

Finally, Scarlett began growing her hair out the following year, and at the same time, decided to dye it a rich, chocolatey brown. (And no, it wasn't even for Avengers: Endgame.) Honestly, it looks like a helmet!

Scarlett in 2019

Scarlett Johansson at the 2019 premiere of 'Jojo Rabbit.'

That brings us to 2019, and Scarlett's hair is back on track! She traded the brown for her go-to blonde (this time, with dark roots), and most likely used extensions to add length and volume. Also, notice her teeth. Not only have they been brightened, but they are now completely even and uniform in size.

Scarlett Johansson Before and After

Scarlett Johansson in 1997 (left) and in 2019 (right).

Scarlett may insist she's all-natural, but looking at her photos side by side, there's no denying that a couple features have changed. Even in different lighting situations, with different hair colours and makeup applications, you can STILL see them.

For one thing, her teeth have been made over with whitening treatments and porcelain veneers. It's now that dazzling, perfect smile that you only see on celebrities.

The main alteration, however, was to her nose—just like so many other Hollywood stars. 

I'm going to venture a guess that she had not one, but TWO rhinoplasties. The first one would have been done before 2003, when she wasn't on anybody's radar. The second was an even more skillful refinement, done around 2005, right before she became a household name.

"Scarlett's work is certainly minimal, but it should belong on a list of the best nose surgeries ever done on a celebrity," says Dr. Jeffrey Rawnsley. 

"The biggest difference is in the bridge. As you can see, her original bridge was thick, leading all the way up to her brow. The result made the nose look too large for her small and delicate face. The new bridge is distinctly thinner and definitely goes well with her other features. The tip of her nose was rather bulbous, giving it the unfortunately named 'piggy look' when combined with the thick bridge. Very little work was done on the tip, however. Just small changes to refine it were used and the shape itself wasn't changed at all. That's how she still has the same nose but with just more delicate details."

Her lips, on the other hand, have had undergone zero cosmetic enhancements. 

"A lot of patients ask me to make their lips look like Scarlett's," says Dr. Anthony Youn, "but it's impossible for a plastic surgeon to create perfection like this." 

How do you feel about Scarlett's beauty evolution? Which of these looks is your favourite? What "beauty work" do you think she's had done?

Scarlett Johansson, Before and After syndicated from The Skincare Edit