#can you believe i said i’d have an update schedule when i dropped the first two chapters. delusional of me.

[stergeon]

Hey ^^

Just finished catching up on the victors - just wanted to pop in and let you know that I'm enjoying it immensely and am very curious to see where you'll go with it.

Hope you have a great day ^^

thank you anon, i’m so glad you like it!!!! theoretically i’ll be updating Soon; chapter 4 is very close to being done and i’m extreeeemely excited for where it’s gonna go from there 😈

appreciate your message, thanks again for reaching out <3 hope you have a great day too!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Desperate Measures 1

Warnings: nonconsent and rape (miniseries); stalking, fear, intimidation.

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: At first, you think it’s a joke when you get the strange messages, but when they don’t stop, you realise too late how real it all is.

Note: This was going to be a one shot but it kept going and going and going, so it’s gonna be split in 2.

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Have a piece of American dream Open up, and swallow, on your knees And say Thank you I'd like some desperate measures, please

💌

The first picture was sent on Monday. You remembered it clearly unlike most Monday mornings. It was the same boring ritual; a coffee that had long turned cold, a pen that wouldn’t write, and a computer that ran as if on dial-up. 

The only bright side was that your small desk was near a window and you could look out onto the city streets, though they were hardly less miserable than your own existence. You were so high up the people were merely moving specks. You often found yourself distracted by the crowded traffic below.

You were drawn from such a distant reverie by the buzz of your phone. You kept it face down by your monitor. Despite the temptation, you limited yourself to succumbing only once an hour. You sat back and your chair creaked as it tilted beneath you. You checked the time in the corner of your screen and reached for your cell, the rubber case scuffed and scratched at the edges.

Notifications for the same emails that sat open in front of you and a few personal ones in the next bubble. Another for the game you played on the subway or when you were overly listless, several updates for your hoarded apps, and a single text. 

There was no number attached to the message, only the foreboding thick font that read ‘unknown number’. You chewed on your thumb as you leaned forward on your elbow and swiped your screen up and punched in your password. The screen flashed and you hit the last notification. No words, just a file. You hit download.

You blinked as it ate your data and the image of your apartment door appeared. You glanced around and laughed to yourself. You shook your head and keyed in your response; ‘very funny, Eva.’ You hit send and set your phone back down. 

Your old friend liked her jokes and you hadn’t missed her little ploy the last time she showed up at your place angry over her latest fling. You had thought she was getting a picture of the stain on the hallway carpet that looked suspiciously like blood… or feces… or a mixture of the two.

You went back to your work and switched the document you’d been picking at for most of the morning. Your job was as entertaining as watching paint dry then peel from age. When you applied for an editing position, you’d expected thrillers and melodramas. Instead, you got dry textbooks and educational guides.

You yawned and pushed through to your scheduled break. You dumped your cold coffee and headed down to the café to grab another. The coffee they kept in the office was cheap and bland. You ate your salad in the lunchroom as you watched the clock tick away. You checked your phone. No reply to that unusual text. Eva must’ve chickened out.

You scoffed and switched chats to send her usual number an ‘lol’. You tucked your phone in your pocket and punched back in before you headed back to your desk. A couple more hours and you’d be home to stew in the early week daze.

The last half of the day went quicker and your subway ride was uneventful; well, for New York. You walked home from your stop and pulled out your phone as you climbed the stairs. You slowed down and moved your feet blindly. You’d finally gotten an answer. ‘Eva?’

You opened the chat again and hit the image. It filled the screen and you squinted as you came to a stop. The stain wasn’t there. Your landlord had finally relented and had the entire hallway torn up and replaced with an even duller shade of grey. The picture had been taken since then; within the last month. The last time you’d seen Eva, you’d gone to hers.

Your chest clenched and you gulped. You hit the little icon in the corner of the conversation and hit ‘block’. You continued to your floor and neared your door. You looked down the hallway and back to your door. You tried the handle. Locked. You took a breath.

It could still be a joke. The stoner next door, Perry, had your number from when you agreed to feed his cat that one time. Maybe he was high or just trying to be funny. Still, it hadn’t come up under his name. Well, he might have changed his number since then.

You unlocked your door and scurried inside. You made sure to turn the latch and slide the chain into place. You tossed your bag beside the mat of shoes and added your flats to the pile. You dropped your phone on the coffee table and untucked your work shirt as you walked around the small living room. 

Nothing was out of place, not that you truly believed whoever it was had gotten past your door. You rubbed your forehead and went to the small kitchen that looked out into the living room. You grabbed a can of sparkling lime whatever and plopped it next to your phone.

You went to your bedroom and stripped yourself of your stiff work clothes and pulled on the night shirt crumpled atop your blanket. You looked down at the thin grey cotton and reached under to unhook your bra. You flung it in the corner knowing you’d be cursing yourself when you couldn’t find it the next morning.

You flopped onto the couch and grabbed your remote. You turned on some mindless Youtube video and opened the mobile game which had taken too much of your life from you. You connected three and four and five and somewhere in between your existentialism kicked in and had you wondering at the point of it.

You closed the app before it ate all of your battery and your phone shook in your hand. 

‘You didn’t tell me who Eva is.’ The message flashed over the top of the screen then disappeared. You pulled down the notification and hit it. You were certain you’d blocked the number. The other messages were gone though and ‘unknown number’ was still emblazoned across the top. You blocked the convo again and dimmed the screen. 

You plugged in your phone and sprawled out across the sofa. You stared at the television, a blur and a buzz to your frantic mind. 

It was dark already when you dragged yourself off the couch and heated up a microwave dinner. You ate it without tasting and your phone chimed to signal a full charge. You left it as it was on the arm of the couch and resumed your repose on the sofa. You fell asleep to the angered commentary of a gamer trying to fight a clam.

You awoke with a start. You blinked through your daze as your television showed stills of mountain and grassy fields. You sat up and grabbed your phone. You checked the time; midnight. Another message.

‘She’s the one you had coffee with last week.’ It said.

You gaped and dropped your phone. You looked around as if whoever it was would be hiding in the corner. You shook as you reached down and took the phone. You swallowed and began to type.

‘Whoever this is, this isn’t funny anymore. Cut it out.’

‘Funny?’ The response came quickly.

‘I mean it. Stop.’

‘Good night, sweetheart.’

You recoiled at the message and bit your lip to keep it from trembling. You checked your door again, the chain still in place, checked every inch of your apartment in your paranoia. Nothing. You let out a breath and took a blanket from your bed and huddled up on the couch. You turned on a playlist, not sure you’d be sleeping much that night.

💌

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep again but you rose before your alarm. You drank your coffee as the sky turned a duller shade of grey. You went through your usual morning dance and headed out the door with a bagel hanging from your mouth. You chowed down on your way to the subway. You felt your bag buzz as you stepped on the train.

You ignored it and clung to the bar as you counted the stops. You got off and stopped by the coffee shop. You ordered a black tea and headed down to your building. Your desk was as it was when you left it. The chair was tucked in and your mouse was hidden behind the keyboard. You sat and booted the laggy machine.

As you waited for it to start, you stirred around in your bag for your phone. You had another message. You dreaded opening it but the circle just kept spinning in the middle of the monitor. You hit the bubble and your phone unlocked.

You took a sharp breath as the image glared back at you. It was you, on the subway, that morning judging by the jacket, staring at the door as the photo was taken unknowingly. Your phone slipped from your grasp and you spun in your chair.

Everything was as it should be. Your co-workers looked just as dead inside as you. Your boss was boxed up in his office on a ‘conference call’. You shuddered and turned back to your desk. You burned your tongue on your tea and signed into your computer. Your phone vibrated beside your shoe and you bent to retrieve it.

‘You looked tired this morning’. The next message blipped on the screen.

You were quick to sweep the clock upward and type. ‘Who the fuck is this?’

‘Sweetheart. I don’t like that kind of language.’ The response was quick and sharp, even in text.

‘Tell me who you are? Why are you doing this?’

‘One thing at a time.’ The letters burned into your vision.

‘Who are you?’ You keyed in again. No answer. 

You set the phone down and watched it. Five minutes, no buzz. You hovered your hand over your mouse and tried to focus on your monitor. Your heart was so loud in your ears, your head began to pound.

💌

When you got on the subway at the end of the day, you looked around frantically as you settled into a seat, your bag hugged to your chest. You glanced up and down the car a dozen times over as you awaited your cue. Your toe tapped anxiously and you stood so fast you were dizzy when your stop came up.

You rushed down the sidewalk, peeking over your shoulder every other step. You didn’t say anything unusual; no one following you, no one watching. You ran up to your building and unlocked the door clumsily. 

You hurried up the stairs and down the hall to your apartment. The key slid in roughly and you turned it so quick, you were certain it would bend. You skirted inside and put the chain in place.

You looked down as your thin-soled boot brushed over something. A pile of flyers slipped through the slot in your absence. You picked them up and sorted through them, an envelope amidst the mess. On its face, it read ‘for my sweetheart’.

You hovered by the door, staring at the envelope. After a moment, you slung your bag down on the floor and placed the flyers on the end table by the lamp. You clicked on the light and ran your thumb along the lip. You carefully opened it and pulled out the paper inside. You unfolded it and your breath caught in your chest.

It was a sketch, quite well done, of you. You’d worn that sweater last week. You went to the park and walked around, sat by the fountain, tossed rocks into the babbling basin. They had been there, whoever it was. How long had they been watching?

And they had been at your door, close enough to slip this through the slot. You folded the drawing and shoved it back in the envelope. You stomped into the kitchen and tossed it into the bin beneath the counter. You backed up and gripped the other counter behind you. You felt a lump in your throat. 

What the fuck was going on?

💌

You started going in early to work; catching the train half an hour before your usual one. You left late and changed your route between the station and your building. You entered through the back, hopping the low concrete barrier between the apartments and the backlot.

Still, it only gave you a single day of peace. No messages, no pictures; and you thought the game was over. You hoped it was. That it was just a sick joke that had finally grown tiring. 

But Thursday saw another image of you just outside your work building. Friday, another of you on the subway.

The weekend was listless. You did your shopping quickly and on Sunday, you wore a loose hoodie to the laundromat. You could find nothing peculiar around you. The city was full of sketchy people but none seemed to be watching you. The hordes were still about their own lives; ignorant of those around them. You felt entirely alone, as if you were being hunted.

Monday was much the same as the last but how could it ever be dull again. You shut your phone off so you could focus on your work. When you were finally done, you dialed the toll-free number for your provider. You took a taxi home and spent two hours on the line but you got your new number and a sense of relief.

You kept your phone on, ringer on max, and nothing. You watched the screen rather than the television but it only lit up with emails and a random text from your mother. You slept in your bed that night,almost soundly.

You still kept your eye over your shoulder. Still searched out any sign of unusual interest. Perhaps you were clueless or maybe your lack of response had finally gotten through to them. Once their messages bounced back as out of service, they might have given up. They got their laughs, now you wanted peace.

It lasted until Friday. 

A full week and you were certain it was over. You finished work and stopped by the liquor store for a bottle of wine on your way home. You could finally let loose. Life had gone back to its usual tedium. You browsed the reds lazily but pondered a pack of coolers instead. Your phone buzzed. You slid it from your pocket out of habit.

‘That cabernet on the top shelf is on sale. Just to your left.’ You stared at the message and backed away from the shelf. You looked around but all the other customers seemed intent on their own purchases. You gulped and blocked the unknown sender.

You left emptied-handed and ran for the train. You got home an hour later than usual. You raced up the stairs and stopped dead in front of your door. The tall gift bag looked familiar; it had been hanging in the store by the till. You neared and peered inside. The golden cap of the wine that had stood in front of you; top shelf.

You bent and flipped the little card attached to the string.

‘For you, sweetheart. Enjoy your weekend.’

You stood and grabbed the bag. You glanced up and down the halls and stormed back down the grey carpet. Your feet hammered down the stairs and you burst through the back doors. You threw the bag into the dumpster and heard the shatter. Your lip trembled as you spun and sprinted back inside.

When you reached your apartment, you called Eva. You struggled to open your dresser with one hand and started pulling out clothes and stuffing them into your neon duffle. She finally picked up.

“E-eva,” you stuttered, “can I-- Can I stay with you, please? J-just a night or two--”

“Wohoa, whoa, slow down,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t… I can’t tell you now. I’m just-- I’m freaking out and I can’t stay here.” Your voice cracked and you sniffed back tears, “I-- Please. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I… I have plans but I can cancel,” she offered.

“No, no, I… don’t--”

“You’ll have the apartment to yourself,” she said, “I’ll just let Ray know I’ll be late.”

“What time are you supposed to--”

“Seven but it’s fine,” she assured you. “You okay?”

“I… Wait, you’re fucking around with Ray again?”

“Do you want the couch or not?” She half-kidded, “you want me to meet you there or--”

“No, no,” you whisked into your washroom and grabbed your toothbrush, “I’m coming right now.” You returned to the bedroom and shoved an armful in the bag. “Eva… thank you.”

“Stay on the phone,” she said softly. “Please… you’re scaring me.”

“Okay,” you zipped up the duffle, “yeah, I’ll stay on.”

💌

You hung up as you came up to Eva’s building. She met you at the door, a thick silence between you as you sensed what she wanted to ask you. You weren’t sure how to tell you. You weren’t sure if you could.

You pushed the door closed behind you as you entered her apartment. It was cuter than yours, a spiral staircase led to a loft above and the curtains were lace and matched the dainty pillows on the couch. You placed your bag on the floor and she turned to you.

“Just give me a moment,” you said. She didn’t need to ask.

She went to the desk in the corner of the spacious room and turned on the ring light of the round mirror. She fished through her make-up box and pulled out her eyeliner. She was already done her base and highlight. You neared and hovered just beside her desk.

“I don’t even know…” you stopped yourself and went to your bag. You pulled out the paper you’d shoved in the side pocket on your way out. “Look.”

You crossed to her again and unfolded the sketch on her desk. She glanced down from drawing a wing along her eye and lowered the pencil. She blinked and shrugged.

“Look, someone dropped this through my mail slot. No address on the envelope, just this.” You felt crazy. “And I thought it was all some joke. They were sending me pictures, of me, of my building… I blocked them but they just kept on. I even changed my number.”

She scrunched her lips and looked back to her mirror. She finished her other eye and set the pencil down.

“You call the police?” She asked calmly.

“I… the drawing is all I have. I just deleted the messages when they came because… well, I didn’t think much of it at first. Not until… There was a bottle of wine waiting for me when I came home. The very same I was looking at right before I booked it for my train,” you rubbed your cheek, “Eva, I’m not crazy. I swear.”

“I believe you,” she said, “why wouldn’t I but… there’s nothing you can do but keep a log of what happens from here on out. Screencap everything.”

“You think… you think the police would help if I did?” You asked.

“Not much. Stalking isn’t really something they take seriously. I knew this girl in college-- Well, the evidence can at least get you a restraining order… if you ever figure out who’s sending you all this,” she paused and glanced down at the drawing. “Whoever it is, they got talent.”

“I’m sure they’d be happy to hear that,” you scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here with you?”

You pondered her offer but shook your head.

“As much as I think you should send Ray along, no. I can’t ask any more of you.” You sighed and grabbed the sketch. You dragged your feet to the couch and flopped down on the cushions, “I really do appreciate it.”

“I always told you to get out of that neighbourhood,” she said as she searched her assortment of make-up, “but you know I never mind you hanging out.”

💌

You spent the night on Eva’s couch, alone. She didn’t get home until three in the morning and you waited until noon for her to wake up. When she did, her face was smeared with eyeliner and her hair a mess. 

You hadn’t touched your phone since the night before. You chewed your thumb as you waited for her to emerge from the shower, restless and unsure what to do with yourself. She slammed the lid down on her coffee machine and growled as she turned and crossed her arms.

“Are you okay?” she asked sharply.

“I’m sorry,” you said as you stopped pacing. You barely remembered getting up to walk circles around the coffee table, “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, how about a latte?” she yawned behind her hand, “my coffee machine is fucked… again.”

“Um, maybe that’s best, get out and… distract myself,” you twiddled your fingers as your stomach ached. You hadn’t eaten anything since the day before and that was just after noon.

“We’ll get lunch,” she rubbed her forehead, “soak up the wine.”

You shook your head and said nothing. She always drank too much around Ray but you didn’t have the energy for that argument again. So you stayed quiet and watched her disappear into her bedroom.

She emerged as you zipped up your purse. You didn’t bother with your phone as you waited by the door but felt listless without the device. It was like a shield you used when you went out in the world. It kept you from eye contact or awkward conversation.

You set off and headed down the street to the pub that seamlessly shifted from brunch to ladies’ night every Saturday. You ordered breakfast tacos as you sat just inside the large floor length windows that looked out onto the shady patio. The other guest lent a sense of normalcy as they carried on their own conversations and reminded you that you were just another ant on the hill.

As you got your latte in the stemmed glass, Eva pulled out her phone and scowled at the shaking. She was so wrapped up in her texts with Ray she hadn’t even mentioned the reason for your overnighter. You were happy for it and yet, you couldn’t think of anything else.

“Jesus, I told him we were having breakfast and he’s blowing up my phone,” she huffed, “just a second.”

“Eve,” you said as she stood and slid her thumb across the screen, “our foods gonna be here--”

“I won’t be long,” she promised and lifted the speaker to her ear and turned away, “Ray, I’ll be over later, promise. I barely slept--”

Her voice trailed away as she wove between tables and pushed out onto the patio and went to the short fence to chat beyond the ears of diners. You sipped from your drink and stared down at the splintered curve of the table. You couldn’t stay with Eva forever and she was hardly any comfort in her distraction with her on-again, off-again dirt bag. Maybe, if you moved--

“There you are, sweetheart,” the low voice startled you and you sat stalk straight as a figure smoothly slid into Eva’s empty chair, “you gave me quite a scare, up and leaving without a word…”

You stared wide-eyed at the stranger across from you. Well, you knew who he was. Everyone in the city, in the country, even the world, knew Steve Rogers. He smiled at you as his blue eyes glimmered. His posture was cool and confident and it was you who felt out of place.

And you knew, it was him. The shock was not enough to fuel your denial as that feeling deep down assured you of it. That little voice that told you this was your tormentor and that you were fucked.

“I…” you breathed and blinked. You couldn’t find the words, you hardly understood the storm of emotions flowing through you. You glanced through the window as Eva threw her hand up and continued berating her phone, “it’s you?”

“I hate that it has to be this way,” he said, “you know, my work keeps me out of town so much and I just wish we had more time.”

“Wha…” you gulped and gripped the edge of the table, “why--?”

“You haven’t been answering me,” his smile fell, “I don’t like being ignored.”

Your hand shook and you kept it in your lap to hide the rising terror along your spine. You sat paralysed as he sighed and glanced around the restaurant. He tilted his head and pushed his shoulders back.

“You threw out my gift,” he said evenly, “that wasn’t very nice.”

“Go…” you uttered, “go, please--”

“Sweetheart, we’re just talking,” he took a gulp of Eva’s Americano casually, “I missed you… I miss you every day and it hurts that we have to be apart.”

Your shoulders slumped and you clutched your hands in fists on your lap. You could scream but what good would that do. He was Captain America, the first avenger, a hero. 

As if your thoughts sent a banner waving, a young kid approached the table and smiled nervously as he held one of the colouring pages supplied by the restaurant in his hands.

“Um, Captain, uh, America,” the kid stuttered, “will you sign-- Will you sign my--?”

The kid smiled through tight lips and held up the colouring page. Instead, Steve chuckled and took his cap from his head and fished around in his pocket. He pulled out a sharpie and signed the brim and placed it back on the kid’s head.

“There you go,” he said.

“Thank you, Cap!” the kid almost squealed, “oh my gosh!”

“No problem,” Steve laughed and watched the kid run back to the table where his mother sat, she waved at the man across from you and mouthed a thanks. He cleared his throat and stood as he tucked away the marker, “sorry, this is why I didn’t wanna do this in public,” he gripped his hip with one hand, “but… we’ll have our time.” He slowly backed away, “I’ll text you. You’ll answer.”

He grinned one last time and strode away. He stopped before the door as he held it open for Eva and she batted her lashes at him as she gushed. You could guess at her star struck words but couldn’t make them out. He left as she finally stopped her babbling and she almost skipped over to you.

“Oh my god, did you see him?” she trilled, “I didn’t think he’d be even better looking in-person.”

“See who?” you asked dumbly as you tried to disguise your discomfort in your latte.

“Steve Rogers,” she announced, “ugh, even without your phone, you got your head in the ground.”

[shepherds-of-haven]

I hope you’re having a great day Lena! I was just wondering if we could have any fluff facts about the shepherds as a whole! Like fun tidbits of how they interact with each other, what some of them do if they have the same day off, does anyone host weekly game nights?? I hope that makes sense! Reading the recent short story on Patreon I love seeing how the characters interact with one another and now I need moreeeeeee🙏

Ooh, great question! I’m feeling curiously tapped dry at the moment, so I’ll probably have to reblog this as more ideas come to me; I’m so happy you’re enjoying the short story, btw!! 💖

Some group dynamic headcanons:

Many of them steal clothes from each other. Briony wears a cute sweater of Shery's (she asked), Ayla gets cold so she just takes one of Red's jackets from a chair (she didn't ask), Chase gives Tallys his scarf one day and Riel corders Trouble a pair of gloves from a fashion line he favors because his old ones are holey and they get into an argument about it... This leads to some recruits mistakenly thinking that the captains are all involved in some sort of mass relationship because they keep walking out of each other's rooms wearing each other's clothes. (The recruits believe a lot of really dumb stuff, if you couldn't tell. They LOVE gossip. It's like a competitive sport in the compound)

There is a weekly card game night, initiated and organized first by Chase, but it grows bigger over time, with snacks, cakes, drinks, and new games being procured! I'd actually say it's more like every ten-fourteen days or so than on any set weekday, and is typically proposed by anyone who senses that they or others need to blow off some steam. They all tend to meet in a private common room and either just chill and play some card games and casually drink and listen to music, or they get LOUD and raucous and play more risque non-card games (like Question or Command/Truth or Dare). The loud nights are more like once a month or bi-monthly, though! They take place in the captains' lounge so dumb recruits don't get to join! It's rare that they're in there all doing the same thing, though: maybe half will be at the table playing card games while others will be broken up into smaller groups, say arm-wrestling in the corner or playing chess at the smaller table or reading, but they're all there! Game nights are almost never held unless everyone is there, which is extraordinarily difficult to schedule, but they all make an effort to make it happen--even those who first had to be dragged into it, like Blade or Riel!

Speaking of chess games, Red and Riel have a standing game where they complete at least four more moves every night that they're around and able to meet up after dinner. Planning their next move helps them both break up the monotony of the day, and it's something they enjoy immensely. However, whenever he gets called away on a mission, Red gets sick with worry that Riel's been cooking up all sorts of schemes while he's been gone, so sometimes on the road he has, like, a schematic that he doodles on trying to anticipate Riel's next move, and it's very nerdy and ramps up in joking Anxiety. Riel, graciously, goes easier on him on nights after he comes back from long trips, though he denies it

Similarly, Blade and Trouble have a standing training session once a week where they just beat the crap out of each other. This is generally where they do the majority of their talking

Briony and Ayla first had an agreement that they would get the other one up if they overslept (Briony tends to be the one who oversleeps while Ayla is better about being up at dawn, but Ayla is really grouchy if she went to bed late and Briony is the only one who can handle her), which morphed into doing runs and sparring together at dawn and having breakfast frequently!

The girls have a standing spa night once a month where they all get together in a room (usually Shery’s) and basically do sleepover stuff and relax and chat and catch up for a few hours. This also sometimes involves showing each other new outfits that they bought that month! Sometimes there are even group baths in the big common bath, but these are rarer because Shery is shy and Tallys doesn’t like sitting in hot water getting pruny

Chase and Trouble drag Red and Halek to go drinking with them around once a month; sometimes Blade is persuaded to go if Trouble can get the drop on him and punch him hard enough to wind him. It’s complicated

Riel and Shery, of course, have tea together once a week! You’re not allowed if you can’t bring a chill vibe (Riel’s rules). Tallys, Lavinet, Halek, and Red are occasional visitors; Briony is allowed on a good day. Blade would be allowed but he has 0 interest

Similarly, Lavinet hosts a weekly brunch, either in a courtyard or at some restaurant in town! Typically it’s a girl thing and Ayla, Briony, and Shery are the most consistent attendees, but Chase has snuck his way in there often, and Riel, Halek, or Red pop up occasionally!

Tallys and Halek cook together! It’s not all that often and doesn’t seem to have any set way of materializing--it just happens somehow--but they both very much enjoy it! Sometimes they cook dinner for the whole group and have a little dinner party that they both secretly get excited for! Sometimes Shery bakes the dessert!

Riel noticed that Tallys has a little garden that she spends time weeding, so he sends gardening tools or special seeds when he thinks she needs them and she leaves baskets of vegetables or vases of flowers in his office. All of this is done without exchanging a word

Chase sporadically teaches Briony acrobatics and things like tightrope walking, just randomly whenever they’re both idle. She teaches him how to gut people with bare fists and also sometimes they paint! 

Caine caught Red grazing in the pantry late one night and now it’s like a Thing where they pass each other in the kitchen and Red sort of just looks the other way re: Caine’s bedtime and what on earth he’s doing up so late and Caine doesn’t tell anybody that Red is just absent-mindedly eating a loaf of bread at 2 AM because he was too busy working to remember to eat dinner. It’ll be like, “there’s some turkey leftover from dinner in the cold box” “oh hey, Caine. thanks. ...so, what’s the news from the midnight watch tonight?” “i’m going to go hunt ghosts on the seventh floor with my friends!” “...okay! have fun!”

Lavinet has a monthly shopping trip where she updates her wardrobe, and it is very common for others to accompany her around the city and just shop while they drop! Common partners are Shery, Briony, Riel, Chase, and once memorably Blade, who didn’t know what he was in for!

Trouble and Ayla are wildly competitive and keep arm-wrestling each other for money; this becomes a bi-weekly sporting event that is eagerly attended and bet upon by third parties

There was ONE group karaoke night. ONE. Most of them got so blackout drunk that they swore to never do it again. Even now, several of them go green whenever they hear a popular bar song (“Don’t Piss Where You Plant Your Flowers”) being sung, especially badly

The game of "telephone" gets really bad in their group. It's like, Shery will say to Briony that she's worried because she thought Riel looked a bit peaky and feverish. Briony will say in passing to Trouble that Riel is getting sick and Shery is worried. Trouble will say to Tallys that Shery is worried sick because Riel is bedridden. Tallys will be mixing herbs and Chase will ask what for and Tallys will reply that Riel is sick, but because she's mixing herbs, Chase will surmise that the sickness must be quite advanced, and will later say, "Damn, have you seen Riel? Seems like he's really sick." Red will interpret this as "I have seen Riel for myself and have determined that he's extremely ill." At least four people will bust into Riel's room, expecting him to be on the verge of death, despite the fact that they saw Riel that morning. Riel will be fine and very annoyed at the intrusion.

They rarely go out as a group to bars and establishments outside of the compound (too chaotic as well as risky, for one thing, and also, recruits don't need to see their superiors like hanging out of bushes and dancing on tabletops drunk out of their minds, and also, "Mages can't drink" (lol)), but when they do deem it a worthy occasion (Trouble's birthday, say), the girls are very punctual when getting ready, and the boys are almost always extremely late due to various shenanigans (Chase forgot that he put a booby trap on Red’s door, covering Red with flour, or a cat somehow slips into Trouble’s room and steals, like, a detonator or an important key, and they have to go chasing it across the city). This has led to the girls coming late on purpose in order to even out their arrival, but mysteriously, this has only led to even later start times, meaning they often don’t get started until like 10 or 11 PM when the most well-intentioned souls meant to be in bed by midnight... that never happens, either!

One such night once led to them ending up on a ridge in the Sun’s Embrace, like a mile outside of the city, in order to watch the sun rise together, because hiking in the dark while blasted out of their minds sounded like a really good idea. They all made it, and the dawn was spectacular, but the moment was ruined when Tallys said softly, “It’s the beginning of a beautiful new day--” punctuated by Trouble abruptly throwing up in a bush and Riel just flat-out passing out

[joshslater]

Delayed Graduation

This is a repost since the original story got banned for unclear reasons. The previous image was totally innocent photo of a guy in wrestling attire. Let’s try with a different one (without updating the story). Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

- We might have a solution of sorts for you.

I barely registered principal Johnston talking. My world had been shattered, without warning. It all felt unreal, and most of all unfair. I know I hadn’t done anything wrong, but there were no witnesses, just my word against hers. She wouldn’t press charges, Johnston had explained. I was almost demanding that she did, so I could clear my name, but thought better of it. If it went to trial all outcomes would be bad, to varying degrees. This way I would just be expelled. I guess I could use the term “drop out” to soften it further. It’s not like the job market is stellar even if you have a degree, but this would firmly pigeon hole me as manual labor.

- What? - I said we might have an arrangement that could interest you.

He pulled out a stack of papers from his manila folder and placed them in front of me, and continued.

- We have a little trial project we would like to push ahead with, to see what the full potential is. Coach Andrews would personally take charge of your training to see how far he can take you in a year. Similar to what he managed to do for Shane O’Brian. Since you will be heavily supervised, fully scheduled and not share any classes with your former class mates, she has agreed to allow you complete your studies under these conditions. It’s not that many months until she graduates anyway. Your graduation obviously will have to wait until next year.

Shane of course was the star of the basket team. He was two years below me, so I didn’t know him, but I heard he had basically never touched a ball before he met coach. He must have been active in something else though, with that body. The girls were swooning like crazy. Some of the boys too, as rumor had it.

- Sir, I’m really grateful for this opportunity, but I’m not really made for sports. Just look at me. Tall and thin. Not much track and field around here. - We are not asking for any miracles. Just follow all instructions given and do your best. That’s all we’re asking.

I started to flip through the papers. I was bored just looking at the page numbers.

- Should I bring this home to my parents? - This is a bit time sensitive, so I’d prefer if you make your decision already today. You’re 18. You get to decide this on your own. Why don’t I leave you for a bit? You can have a read through, and then decide what you want to do.

As he left the room I started to go read through the contract properly. Why do they make things so complicated? The contract really just said that I assumed responsibility for the “infraction”, but the school would not disclose it to anyone unless the contract was breached. I would agree to participate in the athletic education study for one year. In return the school would allow me to graduate next year. But written over 26 pages.

I didn’t feel like I had many options. Initials on every page and signature on the last. Then repeated on the second copy of the contract. I was about to leave and find principal Johnston when he returned, followed by coach Andrews.

- Have you made up your mind, or would you like Mr. Andrews to explain it in more detail. - I’ve already signed the papers. - Oh, well then. I’m so happy we could work something out.

Coach Andrews opened the gym bag he was carrying and pulled out a blue singlet and ear guards, and held them for me to take.

- Let’s try this on right away. - Now? Here?

Johnston opened a door to a side room of his office.

- You can change in the conference room here. - But wrestling?! Have you seen me? - As I said, follow all instructions and do your best is all we ask.

It was the first time I even held a singlet in my hands. I’ve never even thought of how to put one on. It wasn’t hard, just step in them like some shorts and then pull the straps over your shoulders, but I never imagined doing it.

I looked ridiculous. I guess size isn’t as important when the fabric is stretchy, but this sure wasn’t my size. The taut straps pulled the fabric in the groin, while at the same time my thin legs didn’t fill out the legs of the singlet. What a mess. I walked back into the office, naked apart from this one single piece of clothing.

- Should I put on the ear guards as well. - No, that isn’t necessary. Here.

Coach opened a small, brown, glass bottle and poured its contents into a white plastic cup from the water cooler, and handed it to me.

- This is the time sensitive part. Drink up.

This day was going from horrendously bad to confusing to weird. I emptied the cup. The liquid tasted like cough syrup. Sickly sweet and with bitter herbs.

- What is.. *cough* *cough* - Here. Take a seat.

It felt like drinking really hot cocoa when you are frozen. It kind of spreads from the chest to the rest of the body. All of me was getting warm, and an uncomfortable feeling or pressure. Everything was off, like I was drunk, or high or something. It was over in a minute, though it is quite possible my mind was playing tricks and it really was longer than that.

- Stand up against the wall, so I can take a photo.

Bewildered, and with unsteady steps, I did as told. He snapped a few pictures with his phone, and then showed me one.

- Don’t tell me this isn’t a great starting point.

I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was definitely me in the photo, but it was like the aspect ratio was wrong. I must be several inches shorter, but everything, arms, legs, chest, shoulders, neck, was wider. Even my face was altered, if ever so slightly. Where just minutes before, or whatever, I was a lanky gamer, I now was a hunk of muscle.

- How is this... - Don’t worry about the details. We must work quickly now while you are fresh, to get the wrestling technique right. Meet me in my office tomorrow at 7 am.

With that he slapped me on the shoulder and left. Just as he was about to exit the office, he pulled out a pair of shoes from the bag and placed them at a table.

- Oh, I almost forgot these. Your new size. See you tomorrow!

My head was spinning. What had just happened to me, to my body? Starting point? Principal Johnston had his distinct “anything else?” look.

- What about my studies?

My voice was lower than before, I think.

- You’ll be placed in the athlete’s reduced curriculum class. We just need to retest your proficiency levels first. - Why? I don’t understand. - My point exactly.

He didn’t make any sense. I felt tired, slow and almost dizzy trying to understand him.

- What about this body? What happens when I graduate? - You graduate with the body you have, like everyone else. It’s not like we can change it by magic or anything.

He smiled and chuckled to himself.

- Take your old clothes with you as you leave. Something might still fit.

It didn’t.

[joshjacksons]

Joshua Jackson interview with "Mr Porter" (2021)

Minutes before Mr Joshua Jackson joins me in a booth for a Friday afternoon drink at a vibey hotel bar in Santa Monica, he’s confronted by his past. Or rather, a woman in her early twenties who is binge-watching Dawson’s Creek, the teen show about a close-knit group of high-school friends coming of age in a sleepy American town, which made Jackson incredibly famous between 1998 and 2003. The series, which also made household names of Ms Michelle Williams and Ms Katie Holmes, went off air 18 years ago, but is now streaming on Netflix, to the bemusement of Jackson, who played lovable rogue Pacey Witter. “This girl was like, ‘Are you...?’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, I am. He got old. I’m sorry to break it to you,’” he says, before ordering an iced tea and a charcuterie board to tide him over until dinner time. “It always surprises me when young people say they’ve just got into Dawson’s Creek. I’m like, ‘Is it a costume drama to you? Do you feel like you’re watching a historical documentary?’”

The idea of a Friends-style reunion episode or a Sex And The City revival feels equally far-fetched to Canadian-born Jackson, now 43 and wearing it well in a pale green linen shirt and tailored linen trousers by Oliver Spencer that complement his fading brown hair and Cali-tanned skin.

“I don’t know why you’d want to [bring it back],” he says. “Nobody needs to know what those characters are doing in middle age. We left them in a nice place. Nobody needs to see that Pacey’s back hurts. I don’t think we need that update.”

And Jackson doesn’t need Dawson’s Creek. From Mr JJ Abrams’ sci-fi series Fringe (2008-2013) to the Golden Globe award-winning The Affair (2014-2019), from Ms Ava DuVernay’s ground-breaking true-crime drama When They See Us (2019) to the recent Ms Reese Witherspoon and Ms Kerry Washington-produced Little Fires Everywhere (2020), he has commanded the small screen – with a collection of dynamic and diverse work – ever since.

His latest role as Mr Christopher Duntsch, the Texas surgeon convicted of gross malpractice when 33 of his patients were left seriously injured after he operated on them and two of them died, in chilling Peacock crime drama Dr Death, is only stepping his career up another gear.

“I’ve never played anyone irredeemable before,” says Jackson, who is joined in the eight-part series (based on the 2018 Wondery podcast of the same name) by Messrs Christian Slater and Alec Baldwin. “He is charming, gregarious and has a high-level intellect, but he’s also a misogynist, probably a sociopath, certainly a narcissist and a complete incompetent who is incapable of seeing himself.”

If Duntsch is terrifying, then Jackson’s portrayal is even more so. The artist formerly known as Pacey is virtually unrecognisable (thanks to prosthetics) in the opening scene, but the real challenge for Jackson was allowing himself to view someone who is so “spectacularly evil” as a human being in order to walk in his shoes. “It’s a more damning portrayal of the man to make him into a human being, rather than just make him the bad guy,” he says. “He really believes he’s the hero, he’s the genius and that he’s the victim, so once I got past my own judgment, all the other things fell into place.”

Jackson might have his pick of stellar roles – and challenges – now, but it has not happened by accident. Take it from someone who has been in the business since landing his first job aged 14 in Disney’s live-action movie series The Mighty Ducks, opposite Brat Pack alumnus Mr Emilio Estevez.

“You try to make it look like it happens accidentally,” he says, “but there is no way to do this and not be ambitious. I’d say I’m extremely ambitious because I’ve been doing this cutthroat job for nearly 30 years. I’m in the pay-off phase of my career now. One of the benefits of surviving for as long as I have is you get to learn from your own mistakes.”

Such as? “I wouldn’t say, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’ because it all becomes bricks in a path, but [after Dawson’s Creek] I was not choosy enough about the things I was doing. You get stuck. You start trying to perform the performance you think people are hoping to see you do. I was so used to working all the time that I just worked all the time. There was definitely a conscious moment in my mid-twenties when I realised I wasn’t really enjoying the work that I was doing. My manager at the time just said, ‘Take a breath. You’re burnt out.’”

The turning point came in 2005, when Jackson was offered a role in the two-hander Mr David Mamet play A Life In The Theatre, opposite Sir Patrick Stewart. “God bless him, Patrick could have made my life miserable because I had no idea what I was doing, ” he says. “I hadn’t been on stage since I was a kid and now I was in the West End in over my head. But it reminded me that I actually enjoyed being an actor, that it’s not about the red carpet or travelling around the world. What I really enjoy is working on good material with good people.”

It’s no surprise Jackson’s time on Dawson’s Creek led to a career crisis. From the ages of 19 to 24, he lived with his fellow cast mates in Wilmington, North Carolina, filming day in, day out, in an arrangement he likens to college. “You get to the end and they’re like, ‘Here’s your degree. Go live now. You’re an adult. Go out into the world,’” he says.

But most graduates don’t have to deal with global fame. “It’s transitory. You’re only ever cool for a moment and then you become much less cool. I was always pretty dubious about flatterers,” he says, recalling a time he was stung in London in the mid-2000s. “I went on a date in Hyde Park with a woman whose name I will not use – she was socialite-famous – and she was acting completely bizarre, looking over her shoulder the whole time. I came to find out that she had hired a photographer to follow us through the park and gave a whole story to the tabloids about how I was going to meet her family.”

It was his growing fortune, rather than fame, that caused Jackson the most anxiety. “Suddenly, at 19 years old, I was making more in a week than most of my friends’ parents would make in a year,” he says. “It was lovely to have the money, but it was that feeling of nobody is worth that kind of money. You feel like a fraud and it took me a long time to forgive myself for not being the thing that I was perceived as.”

Born in Vancouver, but raised in Topanga, California, until he was eight (before moving back to Vancouver following his parents’ divorce), Jackson bought his childhood home in 2001 and lives in it today with his wife, British Queen & Slim actor Ms Jodie Turner-Smith, and their 15-month-old daughter.

“My father unfortunately was not a good father or a husband and exited the scene, but that house in Topanga was where everything felt simple, so it was a very healing thing for me to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2021 and his baby daughter now sleeps in her father’s childhood bedroom. “There was a mural of a dragon on the wall in that room that I couldn’t believe was still there, years later. The owner [who sold him the house] said, ‘I knew it meant a lot to somebody and that they were going to come back for it some day.’”

Becoming a first-time parent during a pandemic sounds stressful, but it afforded Jackson months at home with his wife and child that his normal work schedule wouldn’t have allowed.

“I now recognise how perverse the way that we have set up our society is,” he says. “There is not a father I know who works a regular job who didn’t go back to the office a week later. It’s robbing that man of the opportunity to bond with his child and spend time with his partner.”

Despite his obvious career ambitions, fatherhood has changed Jackson’s priorities in “every possible way”, he says. “It’s 100 per cent changed how I approach my work and my life. That has been made so clear to me in this past year. For me to feel good about what I’m doing day to day, my family has to be the central focus.

“There are plenty of things left for me to do, but now the thing that gets me excited is experiencing the world through my daughter’s eyes. I can’t wait to take her scuba diving. I can’t wait to take her skiing. I can’t wait to read a great book with her. I’m not worried at all she’ll be a wallflower. She’s been a character from the word go.”

Jackson met Turner-Smith, 34, two days after his 40th birthday. He had been single since his 10-year relationship with German actress Ms Diane Kruger ended in 2016. “I was not looking to fall in love again or meet the mother of my child, but life has other plans for you,” he says.

The couple met at a party. Turner-Smith was wearing the same The Future Is Female Ejaculation T-shirt Ms Tessa Thompson’s character, Detroit, wears in the 2018 film Sorry To Bother You. “That’s what I used to break the ice. I shouted, ‘Detroit!’ across the room. Not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but it worked. We were pretty much inseparable from the word go. It was a whirlwind romance and I can tell my daughter I literally saw her mother across a room and thought, ‘I have to be next to this woman.’”

A self-confessed “useless” shopper, Jackson gives his wife full credit for his current wardrobe. He is jewellery-free, apart from a wedding band and a gold signet “JJ” ring on his little finger (a present from his wife), and discovered tailored sweatsuits (by Stampd and Reigning Champ) in the pandemic.

“Jodie has influence in the way that a wonderful wife encourages you, through love, to dress well. She was like, ‘We’re going to throw away all the sweatpants from your past and I’m going to get you some that actually make you look like an adult male and you will still feel comfortable around the house,’ and I’m like, ‘What an amazing idea!’ Who knew you could get sweatsuits that actually look good on your body?”

Jackson’s style has evolved, he says, “from slovenly teen to it’s-nice-when-your-clothes-actually-fit-you”. The penny dropped after he auditioned for his former co-star Estevez, who was directing the 2006 Mr Robert Kennedy biopic Bobby. He said to me, ‘You only got this job because I know you. You came in here to play a very well-put together 1960s political operative and you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.’

“I had to grow up a little bit. We are very much raised in Canada to never, ever show off, so it took me a while to recognise it’s OK to look good when you go out.”

Still, when you’ve grown up in front of the camera, “every pimple literally documented”, and lived (very successfully) to tell the tale, you can probably be forgiven for the odd fashion faux pas.

“I wore a silk Ascot to an event once in Paris and I still have nightmares about it,” he says. “I looked like Fred from Scooby Doo, but you live and learn.”

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In -- Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: Some language, mild sexual talk

Since it’s been awhile since I last posted an update, in the previous chapter Madeleine had confronted Riley with a video after she left the ball. 

Thank you @burnsoslow for the preread and beta.

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

Riley sat on a leather bench at the foot of the bed with a television remote held loosely between her hands, folded in her lap. 

Somehow her worn-out body managed to walk from the corridor after the encounter with Madeleine, up the many stairs of the quarters she shared with Liam and to their bedroom. The shock of the situation combined with exhaustion and throbbing pain in her lower back was secondary to the fear she felt at possibly giving up the man she loved. 

With trembling hands, she had slipped the DVD into the player and watched her nightmare play out on the screen -- It was all true. Madeleine acquired an illicit video of Riley and her ex-husband that the Queen had no clue was recorded of her or existed.

Her thumb grazed over the pause button several times, but she knew pressing it wouldn’t stop the hurt and embarrassment she felt at that moment at watching her former husband violating her trust and privacy. It wouldn’t stop Madeleine from releasing the video of it to the press and public. And it wouldn't stop the love she felt for Liam -- no one was powerful enough to take that feeling away from her.

But it was those words Madeleine threatened her with that got equal consideration with that video in Riley’s mind. She tried to envision how the scenario would carry out if the video was released and for those who would be affected by it: her father, her friends, her former students. 

Liam.

“It’s a shame that he’ll lose his reign, all because of you.”

“Would you really do that to Liam?”

“Do you genuinely believe you’re worth all the trouble it will cause him?”

Riley hit the pause button, her hands flying up to cover her tear-laden face as she bent over in sobs, shaking her head. She was wrestling with that inner voice, replaying Madeleine’s words like a broken record while struggling to remember everything Liam told her about trusting him and his love for her.

No matter how hard she tried to let his tender voice speak to that sacred place in her heart, Madeleine’s threats and taunts were getting the best of her. If there was even a slight possibility that the Countess was right, and Liam would get dragged through the mud in all of this, then there was no question what needed to be done. 

Those scattered bricks that formed the walls she came to Cordonia with, the ones Liam had broken down, were quickly stacking up again, one on top of the other. If something didn’t happen soon, Riley would be surrounded and suffocated inside that impenetrable cocoon that initially caused herself to doubt her worthiness to him in the first place.

All of those insecurities and fears crept up faster than a flooded riverbank, and she felt powerless to stop it from rising. Even if she could, she’d never allow Liam to suffer the consequences of something she had the power to prevent. To hell with whatever happened to her, but not him. He saved her weeks ago, and as her teary gaze slid from her hands to the wardrobe closet across the room, this would be her way of saving him.

Riley picked up the remote from her lap and tossed it aside. Determined to get out of the palace and Cordonia before anyone could see her, she swallowed her anger and grief and swiped a knuckle under each eye to dry the tears shed. 

She rose to her feet faster than she should have, feeling an intense shock of pain that began in her hip and shot down to her feet. There were no doubts that the fall from struggling with Madeleine injured her far worse than she wanted to admit to herself. With a shrieking whimper, she ground her teeth together and doubled over, feeling like she might faint. 

Riley grasped her back and gave herself a second to breathe through the pain before straightening up and staggering to her wardrobe to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible.

_____________

Liam stepped off the dance floor with Olivia's arm curled through his and escorted her back to their table. The conclusion of the ball was nearly upon him, and most guests had already stopped on their way out to say their farewells and offer congratulatory well-wishes. When they'd ask about the Queen's whereabouts, he'd tell them she had something come up that needed her attention. No one dared press him on the issue.

Checking the time on his watch, Liam looked up as Maxwell ran over with his phone in hand and dropped into a seat. He looked curiously at the out of breath Beaumont and asked, "What's going on, Maxwell?"

"Sorry," he replied before plucking a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray and gulping it down quickly. Wiping the droplets that dribbled from his mouth to his chin off with the back of his hand, he panted. "I ran here as fast as I could. I just got a text message from Drake. He's heading back soon."

"Did he say what the results of the paternity test were?" Olivia asked.

Maxwell nodded. "Yeah. They're Bastien's for sure. Las Vegas officials are allowing Drake to leave, but they've detained Bas until he pays up the $200,000 he owes to Boom Boom. Drake's return flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Cordonia time."

Liam pulled out his wallet and tossed $100 at a smug Leo, who promptly counted them out and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "I told you those little dudes weren't mine, bro. Really, your doubt in me hurts." 

"I'll admit you were right, Leo. But you do have a track record when it comes to being involved in weird stuff like this."

"Yeah, I've gotten myself into some pretty hairy shit a time or two," he laughed as the memories came to him. "Ahh, good times, good times. But, y'know, it wasn't always just fun and games with me, Liam. During those few occasions when I'd show up to train on being the top dog of this place, Father taught me several valuable lessons. Wanna know what they were?"

"Not really," Liam answered dryly, then tossed back the rest of his scotch to prepare himself. "But I assume you're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn right I am! This is good shit to know, straight from the Big Kahuna himself." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You must never tell anyone what I'm about to share with you all. This is top secret, classified Cordonian shit we're talking about; lives are on the line here. Father would be pissed if --"

"Just spit it out already!" Olivia snapped.

"Alright, first, never jizz in a jacuzzi unless you want to be covered in a thin spiderweb-like amalgamation of your own gravy. Daddio said he learned the hard way on that one ..."

"Oh, God. Leo!" Sickened, Liam dropped his head.

" ... Next, when you kiss a woman's hand, do it on the thumb side. Most people scratch their asses with their fingers, but rarely their thumbs. I might be an exception to the rule on that one." Leo chuckled to himself. "And lastly ... Rys spermies are MEAN sons-of-bitches, and we should dip my balls in a mug of hot water every day to kill them before having sex." 

"What the hell?" Olivia grimaced as she lowered her coffee mug away from her lips and pushed it away. 

"My dad told me the same thing," Maxwell boasted. "Except he called them Beaumont spermies. I guess he heard the same story from someone different than your dad."

Liam lowered the hands that were covering his face and breathed out heavily, "Leo, did our father ever teach you about anything other than using protection and sex during these meetings? Anything about negotiations, taxes, treaties ..."

Leo considered him for a moment. "Nope. He said you'd do all that stuff."

Liam grumbled. "Of course he did."

Olivia looked between Leo and Maxwell and scowled. "Well, it's too bad neither of your fathers took their own advice." She grabbed her clutch from the table. "At least I'll rest easier knowing the two of you aren't reproducing. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I'll walk out with you, Liv." Liam rose and left the ballroom, having had more than enough of his fill of Leo for the night. There was also an incredibly sexy woman upstairs he'd been dreaming of pleasing all day, and he was overly eager to make good on his promise to join her shortly. 

______________

Liam made his way through the residential wing and down the long hallway to his quarters. While undoing his tie, he stopped midway when he noticed a vase that usually sat on a decorative table along the wall, tipped over on its side with bundles of long-stemmed roses littered on the ground around it. 

As he stooped down to pick them up, he found it oddly peculiar -- they didn't just fall over like this on their own. If a member of the staff had knocked them over, they would have picked them up; he felt certain Riley would have, as well.  

After rearranging the flowers in the vase and situating them back on the table, Liam removed his key card from his pocket and swiped it through the key fob next to the door.

"Riley! I'm home," he called out in a sensual tone, knowing she was most likely upstairs -- hopefully naked and ready to get her ass spanked -- and wouldn't have heard him.  

Taking a moment to check his reflection in the entryway mirror, Liam smoothed back his hair and tested his breath against his palm, satisfied he was good. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, Liam ascended the stairs, two at a time, to his bedroom. 

"Daddy's ready for his dessert ..." his exuberant voice trailed off as the sultry smirk he donned quickly faded away when he walked into an empty room. "Riley?"

Glancing around the bedroom, the en suite door was still open, and the light was off, so he knew she wasn't in there. The bed was still in pristine form and didn't look touched. He wasn't at all worried; Riley likely went for a snack, even though that thought seemed rather odd considering how adamant she was about returning to their quarters earlier.

Liam placed the toppings on a side table and slipped out his phone. He plopped down on the bench at the foot of their bed, thinking maybe he'd missed a message or call from her. 

There was nothing.

He scratched his head; it wasn't like Riley not to mention to him if she'd gone somewhere, not that she had to. But in this case, she knew he'd be up soon. Thinking about the overturned vase Liam walked upon, something started to not sit well with him. 

With the cell still in his hand, he pulled her contact information up. Just as he was about to hit the dial button, he heard "Liam" in a low, raspy voice.

Relief washed over him as he stood and put his phone away. "Love, you worried me. Everything okay?" Her face was ashen, and her eyes red and swollen. Liam's insides immediately clinched.

Riley didn't answer as Liam crossed the room, frantically approaching her, worry engraved on his features. “Riley, love, what’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes were desperately searching for any clue as to what was clearly something wrong with his wife.

She held out her hand, preventing him from coming too close. “Please ... don’t.”

Bewildered, he asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Riley turned her head away somberly; she couldn't bear to look at him. She had planned to get out of the palace before he returned from the ball; there was no way she would be able to face him. Liam would want an explanation that she couldn't give him. But when she got to the car, Riley noticed there was something important she forgot to give back to him, and there was no way she would take it. Maybe somewhere inside, even if she couldn't admit it, she needed to see him and do this right. “I ... have to go.” Her words were barely audible.

Liam's brows bumped together. “Go? You’re going somewhere this late? But you were tired before --”

“No,” Her head shook faster than she realized before she spat the rest out. “I’m leaving Cordonia. I’m returning to Las Vegas, and I’m not coming back.”

“Riley? What the hell is going on? You were fine and having a good time 30 minutes ago, and now, all of a sudden, you want to go back to Nevada. What am I missing here? Does this have something to do with what happened at dinner? Because I told you --”

“You’re not missing anything. I came here to prevent you from marrying Madeleine, and I did that. That was the agreement, and now ... I’m going home.”

Liam started to laugh and wagged his finger at her. “Leo put you up to pranking me? He's mad about me sending that damn monkey away and is trying to get me back, right? Because if he did, that's just … just heartless. And I don’t find it funny.”

“No, Liam.." She shook her head again. "Leo didn’t put me up to this, and it's not a prank.” Riley carefully pulled off the wedding bands she came back to give him and held them out to him.

He looked at them and gritted his teeth. “Put them back on,” he commanded.

“I can’t do that, Liam. They belonged to your mother, and I’m not taking something so sentimental with me back to Vegas.”

“You’re damn right you're not taking them back to Vegas with you because you’re not going!”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Riley choked out into a wispy sob, “I’m so sorry, Liam. I'm so sorry!”

He said nothing as he stared at her in disbelief and saw that she was serious. “Why?” He asked as his throat clenched and the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Her body felt leaden, never having seen him this shattered. “Liam, I just want to go home, okay? I mean ... this has been an amazing experience, and I’ll never forget it, but I miss my home, and my job, and my friends ..."

“Fuck your home! I’ll buy you one here that looks just like it. Visit your friends all you want ... hell, bring them here if you want to; I don’t care. That's NOT what's going on! There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know, NOW!”

Riley startled at his yell, wanting to hold him and make it better. “Liam, I don’t want to be in Cordonia anymore, or be the Queen, or live in this palace. I want to go home.”

He motioned around the room.“THIS is your home, Riley ... Cordonia.  I’m your home! This palace is your home." Liam scrubbed a frustrated hand furiously over his face. "Again, you were fine 30 minutes ago. What changed between you leaving the ball and coming up here? You're not telling the truth for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Did I do something to upset you? Did someone else do something to upset you?"

"No!" she responded expeditiously.

"I love you, Riley. You know that, right?" She nodded; the glisten in his blue eyes and the desperation in his trembling voice was destroying her willpower. "Do you …  still love me?"

Riley slammed her eyes shut. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and to tell him so in this very moment would only serve to prolong this hellacious situation. The only way to protect him from losing everything -- in her mind -- was to let him go. He would fight her on this, and it broke her heart to see the pain and confusion in his eyes, but it had to be done.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated his question once more. The struggle and agony on her face were evident to him.

Riley turned away from Liam and faced the door. Did she have it in her to answer that question with a lie?

"... the council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of a queen on some American nobody but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Are you worth the trouble?"

The sadness crushed her. There was no other way to protect him. Riley swiped at her face and answered firmly.

“No.”

With that, the Queen walked out, leaving the King in an empty room with his shock, his confusion, and an unimaginable pain he'd never get over.

-----------

Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @natureblooms24 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @shewillreadyou @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen

Fools Rush In tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton​ @cordonianprincess​ @zaffrenotes​ @zilch3​ @drrookie​ @sfb123​ @secretaryunpaid​

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Part 17

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

A/N: It is here! So sorry for the late update lovelies! I’ve been having really bad writers block lately and my job keeps switching my hours up so now my sleep schedule is all fucked up. And after writing this part I want to go stargazing so bad but the light pollution kind of sucks where I live. 🥲 Also this is my first time writing a steamy scene so I’m sorry if it’s awkward. Feedback is much appreciated and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. 😊

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appears at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, angst, some foreplay and making out

You had still been wrapped in Zemo’s arms, the two of you indulging in each other’s presence in a silence, which combined with the faint beating of his heart, you only found to be comforting. The meteors still swept by the earth’s atmosphere above you in flashes that lit up the sky, leaving behind trails of white that resembled the strokes of a brush, as if your mother Asteria had painted the celestial bodies using diamonds onto a canvas that was the night sky. You could only make out the few stars and constellations that were scarcely scattered across the vastness above you, caused by the light pollution that unfortunately managed to mantle the wonders and beauty that settled just beyond, separating humanity from the marvels of the universe. The stars flickered like the diminishing of the flame of a candle, a farewell to the billions of years lived by the remnants of those enormous spheres of hot plasma, thus leaving behind the birth of other stars to fulfill their legacy. However, there was a certain star that did not flicker like the ones around it, a certain spectacle distant in time and space that still managed to burn bright despite the innumerable amount of light-years that separated Earth from it. The remaining light of your planet Olympus. You stared at that particular star, your brows knit together and your face etched with this certain melancholy that one could not explain. How could one thing be so near, within the reach of your fingertips, and yet be entirely outside the capacity of reach.

“Draga.” You heard Zemo softly speak, his chest slightly wavering beneath your cheek from his words.

“Hm?”

“Something troubles you.”

“What makes you say that?” You stared off, your eyes still fixated to the fading existence of your world.

“Your eyes draga.” Zemo looked down at you, his eyes scanning over the troubled creases that masked your features. “I have seen this shadow in your eyes that has seemed to occupy them as of recently. What troubles you?”

“…………You see that star there, right between those two constellations?” You pointed above you.

“Mhm.” Zemo nodded as he followed the line of your finger, his eyes now focused on the same exact star yours have not yet left.

“That’s my planet………Olympus.”

“You’re welcome to tell me about it if you’d like.”

“Well, when I was little, I used to live with my mother in this quaint cottage by the sea, similar to the one I live in now with my daughter. She used to bring me out most nights for stargazing. She had built this outdoor platform with bedding and blankets and we would have a small fire going to keep us warm as we watched the stars and constellations while she told me different tales and epic poetries. As silly as it sounds, she would make shooting stars appear in the sky for me knowing how much I loved them. Gods, I wish you could’ve seen my home back in its days, back when everything still remained. Everything was so…..beautiful, and the skies, gods the skies, you could see the different planets and galaxies as if they were only miles away. To this day, I have yet to see anything in my travels that compares.”

“I would have loved to seen it Schatzi. Your mother sounded like a wonderful person.”

“She was the kindest soul I knew.” You turned your body so that you could look up at him, resting your chin on your hand.

“You miss her.”

“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss my family and planet.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to them Schatzi. I wish you never went through what you did.”

“If only I could bring them back. I’d do anything to be able to just see them again.”

Zemo was silent, believing that no amount of words could have provided you comfort, no matter how deep the meaning or how significant. He could not imagine what you went through. He had lost his country and his family, and you had lost your family as well, but you lost your world, your entire race, leaving you to be the last remaining entity of your people, the last Olympian and the last Chthonian. Words could not bring your family back, just as they could not with his. So he only did what he was able, making a silent unspoken promise within the abyss of his damaged heart to be there for you as he held you closer to him and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

A sudden feeling of guilt crawled up your spine like a venomous scorpion ready to sink its stinger in your skin with means to cause nothing but pain and suffering. You felt guilty for being here, lying next to Zemo wrapped in his arms like a pair of star-crossed lovers from the pages of a novel. A part of you felt selfish for what you did, undeserving of the affection that was bestowed upon you from a man who had suffered enough from the loss of his family. How much longer did you think you could give in to your mindless emotions without a single thought of the consequences it might bring about. Did you really think you could go on as if nothing is happening? As if you can conceal your true form from him forever. No. You could not. You did not have the heart to keep such knowledge from him. If you wanted to pursue what you had with him, you would have to tell him the truth when the time came.

“We should probably get back before Sam and Bucky notice.” You mumbled, blinking back the tears, your heart aching to go back to the way things used to be, wishing you could leave all of this and just be able to go back home. You didn’t belong here on earth, an immortal amongst mortals. At least on Olympus, if your titaness form had been revealed, many would not have bat an eye. They had already seen the likes of Titans before and the locals had become accustomed to you. But here on earth, you were nothing but a stranger, a drifter.

The two of you walked back to his place in silence, the only sounds being the whistling of the wind, the chirping of crickets, the voices of the few pedestrians and the humming of the cars that drove by. Your hands brushed against each other, craving to intertwine your fingers with his as you walked down the stone paved streets lit by the lamps that lined it, the two of you still withdrawn despite what occurred between you both. You felt it would have been silly, holding his hand like a couple of teenagers, though a century ago, you wouldn’t have gave it a second thought.

You arrived at his place, standing at the bottom of the steps in front of the double doors with Zemo opposite you, illuminated by the street lamp that stood just behind. Feelings of conflict washed over you, drowning you in waves of despair. As much as you wanted to be with him, a small part in the back of your mind kept telling you that it was wrong. Neither of you wanted to go through those doors just yet, wishing you could have spent the night under the stars. But life seems to have a way of working against your favor. The Wakandans would be here to collect him possibly tomorrow, and you would have to bid him farewell, separated from each other for what could be forever. As much as you did not look forward to that moment in having to turn him in and never see him again, you wouldn’t stop the Wakandans from what they were promised. And though you hadn’t said a word, Zemo had already knew what your decisions were regarding it, and he could not blame you for it. You were a woman of justice and you followed a code, and he respected that.

“Zemo.” A frown appeared on your face.

“Please,” Zemo whispered to you as he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Call me Helmut.”

You looked at Zemo once more, a look of longing hidden behind your eyes as you unconsciously swiped your tongue across your mouth, watching how his eyes followed the movement before lingering on the wetness of your lips that resembled the petals of a rose after the pouring of cold rain in the midst of spring. Oh how he wished to be the drops of rain that were gifted the pleasure of grazing upon the velvety petals that belonged to such beauty of a flower, a symbol of union between the two domains in which the heavens came down to declare its love for the earth. A pulling sensation filled within your core, drawing yourself to Zemo as if he were the sweet berries of deadly nightshade that have lured many unfortunate souls. Banishing the thoughts of doubt that clouded your mind, you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to you, crashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Zemo was initially shocked by your bold gesture and stiffened from the way your mouth moved against his, surprised you would pull something like this when just a wall away Sam and Bucky were awaiting your arrival, before loosing himself into your embrace.

Your fingers clenched the collar of his sweater and your fingers grazed across the exposed skin of his neck while his hands went to your waist in a desperate attempt, fumbling to grab at anything and bunching up the bottom fabric of your sweater as he pulled you against him. The tips of his fingers brushed against the skin of your waist that was exposed below the hem of your sweater, leaving behind goosebumps in its trail. You smiled into the kiss from the way he completely melted under your touch, a part of you amused from the affect you held over him as you managed to elicit a moan from deep within his throat. Zemo’s brows were furrowed in the passionate moment, something you have noticed when you first kissed him, a small crease in the muscles of his face that showed just how lost he was when encased in this moment with you, and it absolutely melted you. He was addicted from the warm numbness, the ecstasy he felt from kissing you. Your lips were like heroin to him, leaving him yearning for more, and it didn’t ameliorate the fact that his years spent in a German prison had left him somewhat inexperienced and filled with a chasmic longing for touch and intimacy from the lack thereof. Deep within him, masked by his ideas and objectives, Zemo wanted to be able to love someone again, a chance at a new life and a family, and perhaps, he saw that possibility with you. But, behind the passion of the kiss you shared with him, there was something else, a poison that laced your lips with feelings of despair and forbidding that consumed you as if you had tasted those sweet berries of nightshade, slowly loosing yourself to its malice. His lips which were at first warm to the touch, now felt cold like ice and sent shivers of dread through your veins, as if this would be the last kiss you shared with him.

You pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, your teeth softly grazing against his bottom lip as you did so. Both of you were left breathless as you rested your foreheads against each other, panting as your breaths fanned each other’s face as if you had just been trapped in the depths of the ocean before breaking through the surface to allow oxygen to fill your lungs.

“If you keep doing that Draga.” Zemo rasped between breaths, “I won’t be able to compose myself.”

“Good. Maybe I don’t want you too.” You smirked before placing a playful kiss on the tip of his nose. “But I really should go back inside, and you should do the same. Just make sure you go unnoticed.” You slipped his coat off your shoulders, his cologne that lingered on his fur collar leaving your senses with discontent as you returned his coat to him before going over to the doors, stopping to turn back to him with a smile before stepping inside and closing the door behind you. Gods, what the hell did you do that for???? You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you wanted to slap yourself for pulling a move like that.

“Gods I’m stupid.” You muttered to yourself.

“Hey.” Bucky smiled once he spotted you, his voice soft as if he were afraid you would shatter at any moment from the discussion that took place earlier. “How was your walk?”

“It was nice, relaxing. I went to the park to stargaze.”

“That’s good. As long as you feel better.”

“I do, actually. Thanks Bucky.”

“You look flushed. You okay?” Sam noted as he stepped over to you.

“Huh?” You stopped short. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. I just had to kind of uh power walk back here so you guys wouldn’t get worried. But I’m fine, yeah. Anyways, I’m going to hit the sack since I’m feeling a bit tired. Goodnight you guys.” You waved them off before going to your assigned room, making Sam and Bucky give each other questioning looks before they both shrugged it off.

You shut the door behind you, letting out a breath of relief that they had not caught on to anything and praying that Zemo had managed to sneak in. You had just gotten off the phone with Maze and your daughter, catching up on their activities after cleaning yourself up and changing into your nightgown. You had pulled up a chair next to the window that was in your room, your feet tucked underneath you and a warm cup of rose and blackberry tea in your hands. Your robe hung loosely off your shoulders as your index finger twirled above the small silver spoon that swirled in your cup, mists of violet wrapping around the handle of the spoon as you used your powers to stir the contents of the tea. You stared out the window onto the old streets of Latvia before glancing down at the teacup that was nestled in your hands, the glow of your eyes reflected off the window pane along with the tiny stars that swirled through the small globe of your necklace your mother gave you. You hadn’t stopped thinking about the moments that passed and the ones that have yet to come.

There was a knock on your door, interrupting you from the thoughts that had resided in your mind. “Come in.” You spoke as you looked through the reflection of the window and saw a figure step in. “Zemo?” You stopped using your powers, the clinking of the spoon scraping against the sides of the porcelain cup coming to a stop. “You know, you gotta stop sneaking into my room.” You teased before frowning, seeing the expression that sat on his face. “What’s wrong?” You got up from the chair, setting your cup down on the table before walking over to him.

“The Wakandans will…….be here for me tomorrow.” His eyes were lowered to the floor, the browns of his irises which reminded you of the dunes of the Sahara desert were whirling in thought, resembling the dunes caught in the midst of the fury of a sandstorm, as if searching for an answer to his troubles.

“Ze-Helmut, I………” You sighed, your tongue and mind lacking the ability to compose any words that might have provided some solace. “I’m sorry………..I don’t know what to say.”

“Y/n, schatzi” Zemo grabbed your hand, tracing his thumb over the bumps of your knuckles. “You don’t have to say a word. My actions………must be accounted for.”

You were silent, your brows knit together and your lips sealed as if your voice was ripped from your throat. Your heart wanted to tear itself from your chest, begging to be released from its cage so that it could be free to lament, so that it may be able to express the words that held it captive. But your tongue was tied, held back between the prison that was your teeth as you clenched your jaw. Zemo’s hand still held yours, stroking the soft skin on the back of your hand which were a contrast to the small rough patches on your palm, before you heard him speak again. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked at him, lips parted in surprise that he would even ask such a question when you were honestly willing to kiss him any time of the day. The Zemo you had come to know was far different than the one you had heard about, his cold demeanor seemed to completely fade when he was around you, like a fog that dissipated with the coming of daylight. A part of you pondered whether this was how he used to be, before the events that happened. Though he hadn’t had a chance to share such affection with anyone and lost practice, you still found him to be great kisser and it always managed to leave you breathless. “Yes, please.” You whispered, your voice barely audible before you felt his lips brush against yours. What was sweet at first became more feverish and filled with hunger as an unfamiliar spirit seemed to possess your body, darkening the amethysts and golds of your eyes that resembled the galaxies, into the blackness of the abyss that swallowed the outer edges of space where not even the slightest bit of light could reach, almost as if you were sinking your claws into your prey.

A heat pooled in the pit of your stomach, filling your body with an electrifying warmth as his mouth moved against yours more confidently this time, catching you utterly by surprise and leaving your knees weak, a feeling similar to the stillness in the air a mere second before lightning strikes the ground beneath your feet. His hands slipped down to grab the flesh of your waist, dehydrated, and filled with an intense thirst that could only be quenched by your body that was the ocean, your skin separated by the silk fabric of your nightgown. Your hands went up to grip his shoulders as a gasp escaped your lips upon feeling him move down to your jaw and neck. Gods, since when was the last time you were touched like that?

“Helmut.” You rasped, struggling to hold back a moan as his lips sucked on the skin where your collarbone met your neck, making you lean your head back to allow him better access. Your robe had fell to the floor, leaving your arms completely bare while Zemo’s hands caressed the skin that lined them before resting on the dorsal part of your upper arms, the combination of the frigid air and his fingertips that felt like the touch of fire sending shivers through your body. “What if they hear?”

“Let them.”

“No……….I’m…….serious.”

“Well if you’re that worried Draga.” Zemo stopped to look at you. “The walls are thick enough.”

Gods that completely sent you over the edge. It felt as if you were on a high, your mind was not even within this dimension as Zemo met your lips again. You had to throw your arms around his neck to keep yourself from collapsing as the two of you shifted in the room, Zemo guiding your body before the back of your knees came in contact with the side of your bed. You let yourself fall back into the soft mattress, bringing Zemo down with you. You both were a mess, your hair disarray, the thin straps of your nightgown fallen past your shoulders had almost left your breasts exposed, and the skirt of your nightgown had ridden up to your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Zemo squeezed at the soft flesh of your thigh before attacking your neck again. He didn’t know how to describe it but you tasted absolutely divine. Perhaps being a goddess made you taste of ambrosia; the golden, honey-flavored fruit that grew on the trees of Olympus. You were in absolute bliss and thanked the gods he wouldn’t be able to leave a mark, at least you hoped not.

“Helmut.” You moaned, your nails digging into his biceps as his warm lips made a trail down your collarbone and lower to where the lace trim of your nightgown met just above the curve of your breasts, lingering on the space between, filling your mind with thoughts of a certain region you desired those lips to be. “Fuck.” You hissed from the contact, your hand moving its way to his head as you ran your fingers through his soft hair, your nails raking across the back of his scalp as the heat between your thighs only grew. You unconsciously pressed your heel to the lower part of his back, beckoning him closer to that heat between your thighs as you bucked your hips up. Zemo growled at the movement, slightly nipping at the skin where your breast had started to form, causing you to gasp and your eyes to fly open from the sensation.

“Apologies draga.” You heard him mutter before tenderly kissing the spot where his teeth had been.

Seeing Zemo in a close proximity above you in such a position had you dazed, wanting him to take you right then and there and not caring if the others heard you or not. And as your eyes wandered lazily over the sight of him, they widened in horror once they glimpsed at the image of your hands. Your nails became sharp, claw-like, and that deathly color had returned once again, slowly making its way up your arm like the tendrils of a shadow belonging to a demonic spirit.

“Helmut.” You whispered, your voice becoming panicked as you loosened your grip on his arms, being careful not to pierce his skin. “Helmut wait.”

Zemo stopped, pushing himself up to meet your eyes as his concern grew from seeing the frightened look that filled them. “Schatzi, what’s wrong?” He brought his hand up to your face, brushing away the strands of your hair. “If you’re uncomfortable let me know.”

“No, gods no. If anything I don’t want you to stop.” You breathed out, trying to catch your breath. “It’s just that………….”

“What is it schatzi?” His voice was soft as his fingers caressed your cheek, afraid that he might have offended you in some way, afraid that he might have been too forward.

“I’m sorry Helmut. I want to, I really do, but not like this.” You shook your head as you got up, shifting over to where the dark shadows of the room fell on the bed to hide your arms, afraid to meet his eyes as if you had made a fool of yourself. “Not like this.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me y/n.” Zemo smiled at you. “If you’re not ready, than I’m not ready.”

“Thank you Helmut.” You smiled back before giving him a delicate kiss. “I’d………uh like to think some things through.” You prayed that he didn’t see your hands, hoping that the darkness of the room managed to disguise it.

“Of course draga.” Zemo placed a lingering kiss on your forehead before leaving your room, stopping at the door to give you a comforting smile as he carefully shut it behind him.

Your eyes still lingered on the door, waiting to make sure he didn’t come back before turning on the bedside lamp and staring down at your hands. You had managed to stop the color from spreading up your arm, yet it strangely still remained, stopping halfway up your forearm. This wasn’t good.

“What the hell?” You scrunched your nose, trying to use your powers once again to remove it but to no avail. Fear coursed through your veins as you attempted to remove the color, spell after spell, hoping those vine like tendrils would crawl back down your hands and disappear. You cursed under your breath as each attempt proved to be as futile as the one before. What the hell was going on? Why were your spells not working? It vanished before from your magic, why wasn’t it doing so now? You were struck with a sudden realization that perhaps this change would become permanent, that maybe suppressing your true form for all those years had caused it to spiral out of control and in turn try to overpower you as if it had a mind of its own. You growled through gritted teeth, the furniture around you shaking as your fists were clenched in frustration, the violet mists of your powers encompassing your hands and sparking with small bolts that corresponded with the vexation that overwhelmed you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, the mist around your hands disappearing and the shaking of the furniture coming to a stop. You had to work something out. You were left no choice but to keep your hands covered from now on until you found a solution. If any of them questioned it, you had to have a damn good lie. Getting up from the bed, you walked over to the double doors that led to the small balcony and opened them, your hands gripping the cold iron rail as you stared out at the view of the Latvian streets and buildings before you. Oh how you wished your sister Athena were here. She knew everything.

“Oh Athena.” You stifled a sob as you stared up at the stars, focusing on the light of your planet as if she could have heard you, a tear cascading down your cheek and dropping to the streets below. “Gods I wish you were here. I really need your help.”

Despite your pleas, you knew she wasn’t there, her existence only an artifact of the past. You were praying to nothing but a memory. It was extremely urgent that you got information on this matter of your form and the words of the prophecy that still threatened and echoed within the depths of your mind. And since you couldn’t obtain such knowledge from another Olympian, you would have to gather it from the old texts. Muttering a few words in Ancient Greek, you waited, searching, until a small white moth came into view, fluttering in your direction. You held out your finger, letting the tiny creature come to rest upon it.

“Hello little one.” You smiled at the moth as you gently stroked it in greeting, bringing it closer to your face so that you could speak to it in your language. “Please send word to my familiar and tell him to gather as much information he can on Titans and the prophecy. And tell him to come find me when he is done. Thank you.” The moth looked at you with understanding behind his tiny black eyes, it’s antennaes twitching before fluttering away into the moon. You sighed, watching it disappear into the night before giving your distant planet one last glance before shutting the doors and going back over to the bed. You laid down under the covers, your hands rested on your stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, dreading the day to come. How could you face Zemo? And however were you going to keep your hands a secret? Surely the three are bound to find out sooner or later? You just prayed that the message you sent would be returned in a short time. You needed to fix this before it would be considered too late. And the sooner you found Karli the better. Your mind was racing with thoughts, but you closed your eyes, desperate to get some rest and forcing those thoughts away. Gods help you from this moment on.

Tag List: @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thehornyles @awhorewithissues @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @Gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky @mylifeispainandiloveit @fillechatoyante @padmoonyfeorge @montypythonsholysnail @pollynx @aziraslowlylosestheirshit @roundbrownlover @awesomeowlbook @bookloverfilmoholic @hargreevesd @death-is-beautiful @ilovespideyyy @peakyrogers

[5uptic]

hey fanfic spotlight again:)

arm candy by amsves (5up/Fundy, general rating, m/m | 300 words)

Summary: The first thing Fundy does after the stream ends is lean over and engulf 5up in his arms.

a chance encounter by mangoedges (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 450 words)

Summary: Who would have thought Apollo would find his soulmate now?

Desecration Smile by AllianettemiE5 (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1k words)

Summary: No summary.

She said to me, Oh Death / Come close my eyes by Anonymous (Apollo/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1k words)

Summary: Steve thought the words on his wrist were the coolest thing ever, but they just didn’t make sense. No, really; he even asked 5up–had called him in a possibly drunk state on his twentieth birthday, when a prickling sensation on his arm made him think that he was about to die, 5up, help, and was reminded drily that it was his soulmark, dumbass–and the best his smartest friend (self-proclaimed) could offer was, “Maybe your soulmate’s a poet?” Completely useless. Steve remembered hanging up on him, the click of his mobile cutting off his indignant exclamation. It was only the next day that he looked, properly looked, at his soulmark and tried to make sense of it. Nope. That didn’t work out either; he blamed the hangover. For the longest time ever, he just dismissed it as the universe fucking up. A slash in the middle of a phrase? Ridiculous.

why’d you only call me when you’re high? by LVTO (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1k words)

Summary: “I miss you,” Steve mumbles through the phone, and his voice has that soft, honest tone that it always does when he’s like this. 5up’s heart clenches. It’s these moments that keep him from leaving like he should’ve done four months ago, these soft-spoken truths that time and time again have him believing that maybe, maybe this time will be different. It never is. or 5up receives a phone call and ponders his life.

jealousy, jealousy by planetwitch (5up/Fundy, teen rating, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: 5up and Fundy are best friends and have never crossed that line into something more. Until Fundy gets jealous at 5up's constant admiration for a certain 6 foot tall musician.

mimi's menagerie of the miraculous & the mundane by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.1k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: a drabble for the word of the day, every day, for 100 days.

5up & Co. Throw Yarn at a Wall (and more) by WhenTheFogClears (general rating, gen | 1.3k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: Hafu neither confirmed nor denied, instead snatching the half unraveled ball of yarn out of his hands forcefully, a cheshire grin finding its way onto her face. Before 5up could clearly decipher the situation, she flung it at him, smacking him directly in the center of his face. or 5up loves throwing yarn at walls, and everyone else quickly picks it up from him. But in different ways.

Inside My Mind by SilverSprinklez10 (5up/Apollo, Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.4k words)

Summary: Soulmates are usually a blessing.  But sometimes, a soulmate connection can feel like a curse.

(2021, 190 x 172 cm, oil on canvas) by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.9k words)

Summary: Nobody ever painted anything if they’ve never painted the way 5up closes his eyes when he laughs, how his slender fingers wrap around a new tube of paint, how his smile is all teeth and eye-crinkling. Cabanel’s Fallen Angel has curls, but they aren’t 5up’s, are they? Hyllas, in the nymphs, has fair and delicate hands but 5up’s are prettier, especially when he accidentally squirts paint everywhere and slams his palms on the table and goes “fuck!” Steve cackles until he can’t breathe.

Don't Take Me Tongue-Tied by AoDity, LovelyDayForIt (5up/Sleepy, 5up/Apollo, teen rating, m/m | 2.2k words)

Summary: "Sleepy found the ring by luck, something that matches his lover's graceful beauty that he could still afford. Twisted strands of thin silver with a little shimmering opal in the center, it was perfect." Aka: Sleepy's love for Five brought him heartache. If they try, there's still a chance the two could be happy.

implying that the ferris wheel's your body (and i'd really love admission to it) by homeward_bound (David/Hafu/Steve, mature rating, multi | 2.2k words)

Summary: Steve might be drunk out of his mind, but David's just really hot, okay? [or, steve propositions david, kind of. hafu and dumbdog bear witness to his lapse in judgement.]

mi casa es su casa by some_spooky_shit_right_there (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.9k words)

Summary: Apollo's soulmate is cautious. Except, apparently, when it comes to coffee. Because, for the fifth time this week, Apollo wakes up to a burnt tongue. It's annoying. He can't really be mad though, because he has given his soulmate so much worse. The occasional burnt tongue is a meager act of penance, comparatively.

I love you too (I love you too) by some_spooky_shit_right_there (5up/Apollo/Steve, general rating, multi | 3.9k words)

Summary: Apollo comes into 5up's coffee shop. He always gets a cup of coffee and either a bagel or a croissant. He always seems tired, and he never comes in on weekends. Steve would really love to find out just who, exactly, he is.

i'm more fool than wise by 5fu (5up/Steve, unrated, m/m | 5.8k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: Steven Suptic is a brilliant crewmate - ask anyone. Okay so don't ask Janet. Or Dk. Or Koji. You know what, don't even ask - it's pretty obvious he is. But when new recruit and stunningly intelligent 5up boards the Crewfu, Steve isn't so sure he can compete. Not that he cares. Totally. Absolutely. On their mission to gather intel on Polus and find out what happened to the previous crew that disappeared from the planet three years earlier, Steve may realize that maybe he was indeed more fool than wise - and maybe it wasn't a bad thing.

i was praying that you and me might end up together by Qupid (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 7.8k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: Four years at Polus University. Four first weeks of school. Two strangers become two friends, and maybe even something more. Apollo hates being seen, hates having attention drawn to him, hates living in a world that feels like a game where everyone knows the rules except him. Steve thrives on attention, purposefully draws the gaze of everyone in the room, making his own rules as he floats through life. They're a match made in hell, but Apollo finds that when Steve looks at him, gives him nothing but attention, he doesn't mind being seen after all.

Long Journey Home by some_spooky_shit_right_there (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 9.6k words)

Summary: Homesick and lonesome and I'm feeling kind of blue Feeling kind of blue, boys, feeling kind of blue Homesick and lonesome and I'm feeling kind of blue I'm on my long journey home

there’s so many ways to say “i love you” and i wouldn’t wanna waste ‘em (on someone who, don’t feel it too) by Dear_MaedaysUnwelcomedGhost (5up/Steve, 5up/Hafu, 5up/Ellum, 5up/Kimi, teen rating, multi | 13k words, chaptered)

Summary: Love was a strange thing, 5up found. It was everywhere. And not in the way it may seem. It wasn’t in the adverts of perfect couples with artificial lighting. It wasn’t in the glittery cards made by factories or the flowers sold at grocery stores. Not in the TV shows made to bring in cash and be thrown out, with couples who don’t have anything to hold onto but brief infatuation and physical attraction. But in the friendly smiles of strangers as they pass by. In a mother cutting fruit up for their child. Running a hand through the hair of your partner, as their eyes flutter close and to sleep. Helping a stranger pick up their dropped papers, asking for nothing in return. In the graffiti on the wall by the alleyway you walk by everyday to get to work. To the goods baked by small independent bakeries. Flowers planted in parks to make it just a little nicer, or the ones growing out of pavement cracks with determination.

Also!

GuardianPuppy‘s this city needs to be destroyed or at least painted in a different color collection.

spaded_ace’s Casino in the Sky collection.

5fu’s among all this pain collection.

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s)], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k], [added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji… you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed.

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 1

Ao3

hi, I finally got tired of waiting. I’ll do my best to update weekly. hopefully you all enjoy :)

~^~

The rest of the kingdom woke before Jens.

He came to when a thick strip of sunlight was already streaming through the windows, further illuminating the already-sparkling gold tones of the room. The ends of the chandelier glittered at him from underneath the canopy at the bottom of his bed. His crown sat forebodingly at the foot. None of these rays woke him. It wasn’t the sight but the sounds, heavy, repetitive bangs on his door accompanied by a familiar voice.

“Rise and shine,” Senne de Smet shouted through the wood. “You have less than an hour to get your fancy gear on and eat before the boys get here. I’d recommend opening this door within the next five minutes unless you want cold breakfast.”

Jens groaned then let the complaint melt into a sigh as he burrowed further into his silk sheets. They had crept down along his arm overnight, slipping off his shoulder, and he resisted the urge to pull them back up to his chin and curl into the warmth. He had already closed his eyes again, head still drowsy and body still heavy, glittering dreams still holding him under. Vague images stuck with him, flashes of silver and blue, scars and swords, and he rubbed them away as he pushed himself up onto one hand. The muscles in his arm trembled under his weight, not yet having enough energy for the day, and it was this thought that finally drew him out of bed and towards the door.

He didn’t care much to cover himself, pulling the heavy mahogany doors open in just his sleep trousers. It didn’t matter that he was shivering in the autumn air, barefoot and bare-chested as he was. Senne’s threats always fell true, and Jens’s stomach wouldn’t forgive him for making it survive the day without a proper breakfast.

Senne was leaning against the far wall, and he grinned cheerfully as Jens peeked through the door. Much too cheerful for this time of day. He did hold, however, a steaming plate of food that contained a collection of Jens’s favourites, so he could possibly be forgiven. He slipped in past Jens and Jens followed with his nose in the air, the delicious scents wafting up with the smoke and instantly making his stomach rumble.

“I was worried I was going to have to barge in here again,” Senne said, still too lively as he plonked the breakfast plate down on the table a few feet from the foot of the bed.

Jens sighed but dropped into the head seat, slumping against the plush back with his head drooping forward. He rubbed at his eyes again and murmured, “Remind me why I never punished you for that.”

Senne shrugged. “Because you know you wouldn’t survive without me.” He stole an apple from the fruit bowl in the center of the table and tossed it into the air, catching it one-handed. “Otherwise, you’d be stuck with Sander.”

Jens tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “You make a good point. Why’s he not the one banging down my door?”

“He’s already leading drills. You let all your friends do the work for you while you’re all wrapped up in dreamland,” Senne teased, flicking the side of his head.

Jens was grateful when the older boy dropped into the adjacent chair at his right instead of leaving. “Don’t abuse me, I’m the Prince,” he muttered, collecting his fork and knife from next to the plate and beginning to prod at a sausage. “When are the others getting here?”

“Shouldn’t be long. They’re likely already on their way.”

Jens nodded, getting some food onto his fork and then staring at it. His stomach pleaded and protested at once. He couldn’t use the excuse that it was too early, but it was certainly too soon after waking.

Senne kicked him lightly under the table. “Eat your breakfast. With your schedule today you probably won’t get anything else until your dinner.”

That wasn’t unusual, and it also wasn’t what Jens wanted to hear. “You’re like an overbearing parent all on your own.”

“I’m only two years older than you,” Senne reminded him, fixing the cuffs of his blue tunic with apple still in hand. “It’s just also my job to look after you.”

“As my guard,” Jens muttered, “not my mother.”

Senne heaved out a sigh. “Sadly, I’m not lucky enough to be the queen, no.”

Jens snorted and didn’t bother with a reply. His breakfast was already getting hard to swallow, but depending on how the day would go, it could be the only meal he would have for a while. He could manage to shovel it down as long as he didn’t also have to try to speak. Senne didn’t seem bothered, lounging in his own chair and eating his apple, and Jens appreciated it. It was always nice, to have a sound outside of himself to break up the silence. Senne and Sander knew this, and often indulged him, but while Sander filled the space with chatter and teasing and on the most drastic occasions, music, Senne provided a more stoic presence. A silent but steady company. Jens appreciated it most in the mornings.

But even this couldn’t last forever.

Senne rose from his chair and rounded the table to chuck the remnants of his apple in the fireplace. Jens rolled his eyes but didn’t protest—even if it lay there long enough to smell, it would be ashes by the time Jens returned to his room tonight, and that was enough for him. Senne set a hand on his shoulder on the way past and squeezed. “I trust you can handle yourself from here?”

Jens hummed around another mouthful of food. “I’m good. Thanks.” He wasn’t, but he just had to scrape up the remnants of this meal and then he could join his friends, so maybe he was. Either way, Senne had better things to do than hang around and babysit him. He would be fine.

“Ah, he remembers some manners,” Senne teased, squeezing his shoulder once more before heading for the door. “Have fun and don’t die.”

It was, honestly, sound advice, and Senne’s tone wasn’t entirely teasing. Still, Jens huffed between bites and waved him off. A few seconds later he heard the heavy door fall shut. It took him considerably longer to get through the rest of his breakfast, each swallow seeming more difficult as his stomach started a protest. Eventually he managed to clear the plate, and then he took another minute to pour and down a cup of water.

He moved to his wardrobe and plucked out the first tunic within reach. There wasn’t much variety to pick from, anyway. (There was, but he wouldn’t have been caught dead in anything frilly, so it was slightly more limited. He also heavily favoured red. Exceptions were made for grey now and again.) Alongside the red tunic, he dug out one of dozens of pairs of black trousers. For now, he’d be allowed to dress himself. Depending on what his mother had planned for later in the day, this was subject to change.

For now, though, he was free, and finally on his way to the library.

This was not to do some—or any—reading. The library was reserved for members of the castle or invited guests only, and most members of the castle were not frequent visitors. Few of the knights had much interest in the dusty books on offer, and the majority of the servants preferred gossiping and get-togethers once they were free of their work. This meant that, most of the time, the library was relatively empty and easily taken over, and this was often what Jens and his friends did.

The library was quiet when he entered, as expected. It was already brightly lit through the long stained-glass windows, dust shimmering in the air as it fell from ancient texts. The books were endless, spreading out for what seemed like miles in every direction. Jens had gotten lost between the shelves as a child. There was, however, a wide open space in the center leading from the door right to a staircase at the back, which led up to an attic space Jens believed no one had entered in years and that was even dustier than down there. Various tables and sofas took up this section of the floor, mahogany and velvet creating a rich mix of red and brown.

On one of these sofas lounged Robbe Ijzermans, Jens’s best (and once only) friend.

He was spread across it with one leg kicked up along the cushions and a book open in his hands, seeming deeply immersed. He looked up, however, as Jens entered, and immediately grinned and snapped the book shut—after marking his place.

“You’re late,” he teased.

“I am perfectly on time. You’re early,” Jens retorted. “The others aren’t even here yet.”

Robbe waved a dismissive hand. “Well, I don’t have as far to travel.”

It was true that he didn’t, so much so that he might have been even closer to the library than Jens. There were not many residents of the castle who weren’t either of royal blood or a servant, but Robbe was an exception. He had lived here with his mother for as long as Jens could remember, as the woman was a long-time friend of the Queen’s and a previous Lady, until her Lord had up and vanished without a word. She had been distraught, and unable to look after her young son alone. Jens’s mother had taken them in on a rare act of love that no one had ever dared to question.

Jens didn’t care what the reasons were, only that it had given him Robbe. It made them almost more than friends—brothers in all but blood. A lot of the time Jens wished they shared the same lineage. Robbe would have made a much better successor to the throne. He was already treated like a Prince by the entire kingdom.

Robbe shifted to set both feet on the ground so Jens could sit next to him. He realised they were another mixture of those rich tones, blood and rust mingling as he slumped back and let their shoulders press. Robbe, like Jens, had a preference in colours and an aversion to frills.

“You can’t be tired when you’re likely only awake,” Robbe protested, but he didn’t push Jens away.

Jens let his head loll against the backrest and narrowed his eyes at his friend. “I ate breakfast. I dressed. I know I’m talented at many things, Robbe, but even I can’t do that in my sleep. Senne gave me a very kind wake-up call a while ago, don’t worry.”

Robbe huffed. “Senne is nice. You’re just whiny.”

Before Jens could protest, the door burst open again and permitted loud greetings.

Moyo Makadi entered with his arms spread, pushed along on a food trolley by Aaron Jacobs. Jens instantly covered his face with a hand, both to block out the sight of more food and Moyo’s cheeky wave. Moyo hopped off the cart and barely managed to help Aaron draw it to a stop before it crushed Jens and Robbe’s legs.

“Oops,” Moyo said. “Hello, you royal asses.”

Robbe snorted as Jens finally dropped his hand and rolled his eyes. He was unable to stop a smile, however, as Aaron immediately slipped in to gather him and Robbe in a hug. Moyo simply slapped hands with them both and dropped onto the closest free space, another lush sofa set at an angle to the one Jens and Robbe already occupied. Aaron settled next to him and they finally struck up a conversation.

“So, what flashy business is happening today that gathered us all here?” Moyo questioned, mock-intent as he rested his chin on his fist and raised his brows at Jens.

Jens shrugged. He wasn’t always kept in the loop regarding this information, himself. “A trial of some sort, I think.” It would, inevitably, cut this little get-together short, for him at least.

“I would love to be you,” Aaron pouted at Jens. “You get to know everything.”

Jens didn’t bother pointing out that this was far from the truth, as he in fact felt he knew very little. “You can take my place if you like,” he offered, shrugging.

Many would think him ungrateful, entitled, and maybe that is exactly what these thoughts made him, but he was really just tired. He was exhausted, constantly. He shouldn’t have been, considering he was literally served everything on a silver platter, and didn’t really have to work for anything as far as the outer world was concerned. Sitting on a throne as a pretty accessory was hardly effort, after all.

He thought maybe it was this that tired him. Monotony was supposed to be tiring, wasn’t it? He was tired from doing nothing while also doing everything. He was tired of being expected to do it with a regal aura he wasn’t sure he even had.

He might have also been tired of doing it alone.

“Are you giving away the place of Prince, now?” Moyo cocked a brow, then slapped his hands together. “I’ll gladly take any going positions.”

“You can take Jens’s and I’ll take Robbe’s,” Aaron agreed.

Robbe made a small sound of protest, sitting up straighter and removing the support under Jens’s shoulder, leaving him to tilt sideways and almost knock his face into Robbe’s back. “I didn’t offer any position. I’m perfectly content right where I am.”

“You basically live in your own castles anyway,” Jens pointed out. “But you don’t have to sit in and watch my mother judge some poor commoner.”

“Aww, Jens is just too soft.” Moyo poked his knee.

Jens rolled his eyes.

“Well, at least you don’t have to travel around in a carriage on an empty stomach to get here,” Aaron said, finally leaning forward to cast his gaze over the feast they’d brought with them.

Robbe huffed, amused, and settled back alongside Jens. “You can take your fill now. All of this is for the two of you. Jens and I already ate.”

“What?” Moyo blinked at them, then stared at the food, then at Aaron. “It’s just for you, then. I actually got up in time and already had my breakfast, too.”

Aaron’s eyes widened as he glanced between all of them and then back at the cart. He let out a long breath and patted his stomach. “Alright. We can do it.”

Jens snorted as Robbe burst into giggles and Moyo simply shook his head. Jens enjoyed these moments more than anything else, the ridiculous ones with his group of friends in which he could just be himself. He didn’t have to be polite or polished or princely. He didn’t have to be anything. He could just laugh without anyone looking at him in awe or judgment.

He really didn’t have to worry about these three being in awe of him.

Moyo turned to him with a wrinkled brow, breaching the gap between them to poke him in the stomach. “It’s probably a good thing you’re opting out, you’re getting a little soft there.”

Jens batted him away. “So what if I am?”

“Don’t they have you on some strict, fancy diet and a training regime? Thought they didn’t want a pudgy Prince.”

Jens crossed his arms over his stomach and scowled.

Robbe made a small noise of protest next to him. “Jens would be basically skin and bones by your standards. I’d rather see him soften up than fade away.” He nudged Jens teasingly, but gave Moyo another pointed look.

Moyo’s expression gentled. “He knows I’m kidding. I just think it’s crazy, some of the expectations like that they have of you. I couldn’t be a knight, either.”

“Sander loves being a knight,” Robbe pointed out.

“Doesn’t Sander just love everything, though?” Aaron asked. He had a smear on his chin from some sort of sauce, even though Jens couldn’t spot any amidst the array of food.

“He loves being a pain in my ass,” Jens muttered. Sander Driesen was a nuisance more than a knight, a member of his personal guard, and one of his best friends. He was the same age as Senne, just two years older than the group of them, and still he appeared younger. Jens could speak about (tease) Sander in a manner that didn’t feel quite as appropriate with Senne.

“Maybe,” Robbe acquiesced, grinning over at him. “But at least you know it’s with love.”

“Well, who doesn’t love our dear Royal Highness,” Moyo teased.

Aaron took another chunk of food. “And his royal heinie.”

Robbe choked on his breath. Moyo, however, immediately started cackling, and Aaron joined in once Jens flipped them off. Eventually, Robbe’s giggles joined the fray, and this was eventually what roped Jens into letting out a quiet laugh of his own. They were too much, sometimes, but he thought he quite liked it that way.

The door burst open once more to permit a fluffy cloud of white hair. Sander poked his head in and raised his brows at all of them, lips twitching slightly in response to their laughter. Jens gave him a little wave and he strode into the room, still fully decked out in his chainmail with a navy cloak wrapped around his shoulders.

“Ahh, there he is,” Moyo grinned. “The skinniest knight in the land.”

Sander pulled a face and flipped him off. “I can be skinny and still know how to skin you.”

Moyo’s brows rose, but he quietened, sinking back in his seat with raised hands.

“I’m guessing you’ve come to whisk me away?” Jens sighed.

“Afraid so. I’ve been waiting all morning to come sweep you off your feet,” Sander said, hand placed mockingly over his heart as he smirked. “I almost challenged Senne to a duel to get to your chambers.”

Jens rolled his eyes skyward.

Robbe giggled, and Sander narrowed in on him and finally softened, as he usually did. It was little secret that most of the fellow castle members favoured Robbe, and that Sander in particular had a soft spot for his doe eyes. Robbe was the reason he was here, after all.

Sander rounded the food trolley and sat on the arm of the sofa next to Robbe, ruffling a hand through his curls. Robbe would have smacked any of them away, but he leaned into Sander like a cat. “I hope you’re not letting these ones corrupt you.”

“You’re hardly a stellar role model yourself,” Robbe drawled, gently teasing.

The hand Sander placed over his heart seemed slightly less mocking, but his pout twitched towards a smirk. “You wound me, dear Robin.”

“They don’t need me immediately, do they?” Jens attempted to draw Sander’s attention back.

Sander shrugged. “I was told to fetch you so you could be properly dressed,” he announced, overly amused.

Jens groaned and slumped down in his seat as Moyo laughed again.

|*~^~*|

Ow. Cinched too tight around the waist. Again. Cutting into his throat. He let out a slight grunt and the maid handling his ties and buttons mumbled an apology, still avoiding his eyes.

“It’s alright,” Jens reassured her. He thought her name might be Lisa, but he wasn’t sure, and he refused to use it only to be wrong. “It’s not you, just these clothes. I don’t see the need for them, in any case. Do you?”

Lisa paused for a moment and considered him, actually thinking through her answer. “I think they’re nice, Sire.”

Jens blinked. She was complimenting him, he thought, but she was also disagreeing with him. Not to a large extent, of course, and the good certainly outweighed the bad, but that didn’t make it any less unusual. Most of the servants just smiled and nodded and furtively agreed with anything he said. Robbe and the boys were different, as well as some of his knights, but outside that small circle, Jens rarely garnered any honest conversation or genuine opinions. It was refreshing.

“They do look quite uncomfortable, though,” she commented, and he deflated slightly. “But at least it’s not a dress. The Princesses take a lot longer.”

This startled a pleased laugh out of Jens. “I can imagine. What with Lotte being barely twelve and Lies being so demanding.”

“I wish that Lotte was going to remain that age and never require any awkward clothing,” Lisa admitted, turning away to run her hand over Jens’s heavy cloak. She looked back at him curiously. “It’s a while yet to the meeting. Would you rather wait to wear this?”

Jens waved her off. “Sure. I’ll manage it myself, I’m sure. Thank you.”

Lisa offered a small bow, as well as the hint of a smile when Jens grinned at her. She took her leave without any further fuss and let the heavy door fall shut behind her, leaving Jens once again alone in his silent chambers. He almost wished Sander had stuck around, but Sander had been starving and Jens was the one who told him to go and find himself an early lunch. He wished he could have spent more time with the boys, as well, considering now he would simply have to wait—just in a bit more discomfort than before.

He cast a glance at himself in the mirror. At least, he thought, he was still wearing red. The padded jacket hung low on his wrists and was clasped with a belt at the waist, with the collar obscuring most of his throat. It was well fitting and of a soft material and really, it wouldn’t be so bad if he was more used to it. It just felt a little too restraining. Had he actually put on a little weight?

He tugged at the collar, skin underneath beginning to itch uncomfortably. Eventually he gave in and unbuttoned the top of the garment, taking a deep breath and finally swallowing without feeling like he was being choked. He didn’t think it looked any worse, or less professional, but then again he was never the best judge. He’d once tried to convince his mother that their family taking up a more casual style would only earn them more respect from their people, and help put them all on the same level. She had disagreed.

His door opened without any forewarning, which meant it had to be a member of his family. He turned around to see Lotte racing towards his bed, throwing herself on it amidst his protests. Her giggle floated out into the room and Jens groaned slightly, but the roll of his eyes was fond. He glanced back at the mirror and checked himself over once more, fiddling with that top button, before he let his hands drop and turned to his youngest sister.

“What are you doing in here? You know there’s a meeting soon,” he berated, only to huff in amusement when she narrowed her eyes at him. “I won’t be able to spend much time with you.”

She considered him for another moment, then simply shrugged. “I know. But I’m bored. I like whatever time I get.”

Jens softened. He knew that, in some ways, it was even harder for Lotte than it was for him. He had Robbe and the boys, and Senne and Sander, who were not only his people and his guard but his friends. Many of the people who worked in the castle were his age or thereabouts.

Lotte didn’t have the same luxury.

He went to join her on the bed, ignoring the alarms in his head warning him of creased clothes as he flopped down beside her. “Okay.” He smiled over at her and gave her a nudge. “I always have time for you.”

The girl returned his smile, but it quickly faltered. “Unlike Lies,” she muttered, picking mournfully at her fingernails.

Jens grasped her small hands in one of his to stop the motion. “She doesn’t mean to brush you off, you know. She is just busy, too.”

“Not as busy as you and you make an exception.”

He supposed this was a fair point. He also supposed sisters of twelve and twenty might not have all that much in common, but they were a special case. The three of them had almost everything in common. “Have you really tried to get her to spend time with you?”

Lotte hesitated. “Not really.”

“Would you like me to mention something to her?”

“No, that’s embarrassing.”

“It won’t be. I’ll be subtle.”

“But you’re awful at that, Jens.”

“Excuse me?” Jens sat up, affronted. “I am excellent at subtlety. It’s a big part of my job.”

Lotte seemed dubious. “How? You don’t actually do much.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean with the people,” Lotte specified, blushing slightly even as she tried and failed to hide her amusement. “You don’t get many opportunities to practice subtlety. Neither do I.”

“Clearly,” Jens quipped.

Another giggle erupted, and Jens couldn’t fight back his smile. He had his friends and his family. Lotte had always looked up to him and he had always adored her—they were as close as a brother and sister eight years apart in age could be. He and Lies were close, too, though they were also, obviously, much closer in age and more likely to match up to each other’s taunts. But Lies had always been Lotte’s favourite. The two had been thick as thieves almost since Lotte’s birth, but recently Lies had been sucked into her own position in the castle. She wasn’t subject to as much nonsense as Jens, but she had her own fair share of business and responsibilities. She had also simply grown up.

But Lotte was still growing up with them, and Jens wouldn’t just let her be left behind.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m subtle,” he said. “Lies will make an effort if she knows you miss her. You know how much she loves you.”

Lotte hugged one of his many pillows against her chest and didn’t look at him. “It’s different now, though.”

“No. You’re our sister and that will never change. Okay?”

Before Lotte could respond, a harsh rap on the door interrupted their moment. Jens closed his eyes briefly, already guessing who it was. The door swinging up with no further warning confirmed his assumption.

“Well, now you’re just being difficult,” Sander said, exasperated. “I did not drag you back here early so you could get some more sleep.”

Jens groaned and tugged the pillow out of Lotte’s grasp to cover his own face with it.

Lotte giggled, and Sander finally took notice of her. His lips instantly split in a smile, and he took a deep bow, which only made Lotte’s laughter louder. “Pardon me, Princess. I hope you know I never intended to lay on you the same disgrace as your brother.”

“Of course not,” Lotte said, ever at ease as she bounded over Jens and towards Sander, letting him place the usual kiss on her hand. “You’re only doing your job right, and I am sure he deserves it.”

“I thought,” Jens interrupted loudly, “that we were supposed to stick together. I am only here because of you in the first place, but I see you’re not yet old enough to know better than to fall for his charm.”

Lotte stuck her tongue out at him, which might have proved his point. “You are just jealous Sander is better at it than you. Enjoy your meeting.” She gave him a wave and a smile before slipping away, and Jens watched after her, hoping above everything that she wouldn’t get old enough too quickly.

Sander also smiled fondly after her, but grew stern once he returned to Jens’s gaze. He placed his hands on his hips and sighed. “Your mother is going to have me in the stocks one of these days, and then I will teach you how that works in our next training session.”

Jens snorted. “I would like to see you try.”

|*~^~*|

He hated sitting in for Court. It was less about the ‘criminals’ and more about the royals, the endless lines of knights and Lords and servants, eager to witness another fool. He didn’t care much for fools, but he cared even less to laugh at them. It soothed him only slightly that Sander and Senne were visible near the front of the room.

He cared least for his formal attire. He was overheating in his jacket, once again delicately buttoned up to the throat, the collar digging into his skin. He’d tried leaving the top hanging open, and it had hardly taken a second for his mother to give him a sharp glance, nodding to a maid that had hastily run to button it back up. He was left to sit and suffocate.

His mother was seated next to him, as regal as ever in her throne. Her fitted dress was a deep burgundy, multiple shades darker than her son’s jacket, and her hair was pinned up neatly with her crown placed carefully atop it. She hadn’t paid attention to Jens, bar the instance with the clothing ‘mishap’. Instead she was talking quietly to Senne’s father, who also happened to be the head knight, or Commander. Jens didn’t know him well, and the man never seemed to give him much thought. Which was fair, he supposed, as he was obviously of less importance, and the position and size—a little behind and a lot smaller—of his own throne in comparison to his mother’s was a good reminder. This meant he was left alone as they waited for whatever poor soul was being charged to make their way to the throne.

For some reason, he wasn’t expecting the poor soul to be a boy roughly his age with scruffy hair and striking blue eyes set in a delicate face.

Jens straightened subtly in his chair, placed to the right side of his mother’s throne, and met the boy’s eyes for half a second.

His mother ordered a sharp, “Kneel.”

Before the boy could comply, one of the guards that had escorted him set a heavy hand on his shoulder and forced him down, making him land on the stone floor in a manner that left Jens’s own knees aching in sympathy. The boy simply caught his breath and held his chin high, looking straight at them and through, his jaw clenched.

Jens drummed his fingers on his knee in interest.

The same guard gave the boy’s head a forceful shove. Jens thought he might have been one of the Berg children, though of the four brothers there were in that family, he couldn’t distinguish this one. He could see, however, that the guard must have been twice the boy’s size in bulk. “Speak your name to the Court.”

The boy took a breath as some of his masqueraded confidence slipped. “Lucas. Lucas van der Heijden.”

Jens licked his lips, cataloguing the sound of his voice, the way his mouth parted for an instant before the actual sound escaped. The name rumbled deeply around the room and seeped into the walls, encased in the brick in case it would otherwise be lost.

Jens’s job was to watch, to note, and to only give judgement if asked. It often didn’t take him long to form conclusions. His conclusion of Lucas van der Heijden was that he seemed, at once, nothing and everything like a criminal.

He was young, and clean cut, though his clothes were a tad too tight and an inch too short on his ankles, fraying at the hems. There was a smudge of dirt on his cheek, a familiar sandy mixture that Jens had seen on all hostages of the castle cells. It was impossible to tell how long he had been kept in them—Jens was rarely offered such information. There was an innocence to his youth but a confidence in his posture. His eyes held a pleading light and a resolute film. Whatever his crime in regards to the crown, he held a loyalty to someone.

“State his crimes,” the Queen requested. She had abandoned any attention towards the Commander, though he remained by her side. She was looking at the boy with a cool intent that surprised Jens.

The opposite guard, whom Jens failed to recall a name for, stared straight ahead as he spoke up. “Thievery and dishonor to the Court, Your Majesty.”

Jens could barely hold back a snort. He relaxed slightly. There was rarely a severe punishment for a loaf of bread. The scene before him suddenly made more sense.

His mother’s tone, however, was unusually steely. “Thievery of what?”

“Sir Viktor’s sword, Your Majesty.”

Jens blinked. A rumble of interest spread through the Court. That was something of a surprise. Jens was suddenly paying more attention.

Lucas’s jaw tightened and he gave a minuscule shake of his head, so much so that Jens was sure he was the only one to notice.

The Queen didn’t seem quite as intrigued, which meant she had already known. “And what, boy, do you want with a sword?”

“I didn’t steal it.” Lucas spoke through gritted teeth, but his gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve never even seen the sword before.”

“It was found under his bed, Your Majesty, free of its sheath. Sir Viktor had been missing it for a full day before organising a search.”

Jens barely resisted rolling his eyes. If Viktor had been missing it that long, he was almost in need of a punishment himself. He’d known Viktor Deruwe, Senne’s brother, for only over a year, becoming acquainted with him long after he’d already met Senne. Senne’s loyalty and honour, that Jens had become easily familiar with during the man’s service in his personal guard, did not seem to emanate as clearly from his brother. Jens had received only a few pleasures of his presence, and pinned his discomfort down to this unfamiliarity. As he watched Lucas’s expression tighten further, however, there was something that didn’t sit quite right with him.

The feeling only strengthened as the Queen raised her head and stared Lucas down. “You’d do best to not add dishonesty to your list, Mr van der Heijden. The proof sits against you. If you claim not to have stolen it, how do you suppose it ended up with you?”

Lucas swallowed. For a tiny second, his gaze flitted over to the crowd on his left. Jens followed his gaze and found nothing that stood out, other than his own friends. Senne was watching Lucas intently, and with mild surprise, though he did not appear angered on his brother’s behalf. Sander was flicking cautious glances at him anyway.

“I didn’t steal anything,” Lucas repeated. “I’m an artist. I have no reason for a sword.”

“And yet,” the Queen said lightly, “there was one so close to you. Are you able to explain that?”

Jens came to the realisation too late, after noticing the hard lines of his mother’s frown and the steel underlining the easiness of her voice. This wasn’t a trial—this was merely the sentencing.

“Someone else must have placed it there,” Lucas said, just as light, with just as much steel underneath.

“I’m sorry, Mr van der Heijden, truly, but the evidence against you is not something I can simply dismiss as a wrong guess. Do you have proof, of anyone else who may have had access to your quarters? Even so much as a theory.”

“It’s not hard,” Lucas laughed slightly, “to access my quarters. From the way your guards stormed my home yesterday without so much as a knock as a notice, that seems fairly clear.”

Jens raised his brows as the Queen lowered hers. “You’d do well not to speak out of turn, boy. Evidently, my guards had every right to rip your home to shreds if they so pleased.”

Jens looked at her in surprise. He knew his mother held a firm and stern rule, but she had never shown herself to be cruel. Jens would never have expected her to so openly disregard the rights and welfare of her people. He supposed Lucas was good at pushing buttons, and he’d somehow managed to hit a number of her’s throughout their short interaction. Jens glanced over Lucas again, his curls scattered and shoulders straight, and felt a stab of worry in his stomach.

Help yourself, Jens silently urged. Try to win her over. Don’t make it worse.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” Lucas seemed to force the words out, dragging them from himself as if he was being made to pull his own teeth. “My mother—I take care of her. I worried that she would have been harmed in the fray.”

Jens watched his own mother soften slightly before regaining her resolve. “While that’s admirable of you, it doesn’t truly explain your resistance. Your lies, Mr van der Heijden, may only lead to further searches of your home in an attempt to confirm either your guilt or your innocence. Would you not, in that case, rather save your mother the trouble?”

Jens swiveled his gaze back to Lucas, watching the low blow hit, cataloguing the way the boy’s own resolve crumbled.

Then he straightened, undeterred by the hand still tightly clasped on his shoulder. “My mother has no involvement, because neither do I. I’m not lying. I stole nothing.”

The Queen regarded him for another long moment, as did Jens. Then she released a heavy sigh. “I was hoping that your cooperation would provide an option for leniency. A true explanation may have lightened your sentence, but the proof against you is overwhelming.”

Jens’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t quite sure he agreed, but he was only meant to give his opinion if he was asked. He didn’t think his mother much cared what he thought, most times, but especially now.

“I cannot believe that you are free of intent to threaten the crown, due to the unusual action of your crime. I fear I have no choice.” She stood from her throne and stepped down from the dais, looming over Lucas in her heavy red robes and shimmering crown. “Lucas van der Heijden, for the charges of thievery and dishonor to the throne, I find you guilty and sentence you to death.”

The murmur this time was of a much more extensive volume, but it wasn’t quite enough to drown out Jens’s incredulous burst of laughter.

All eyes turned to him, and he felt his shoulders stiffen. Lucas’s gaze was most prominent, evidently confused, with eyes wide and disbelieving. His mother’s were equally surprised, though underlaid with anger.

Definitely not supposed to be voicing his opinion today, then.

Jens did his best to ignore his discomfort under the attention and keep a princely smile on his face. “Since when do we sentence death without proof? Now you wish it upon one of your younger subjects for the kidnapping of a sword that wasn’t even put to use?”

The murmur that he’d silenced picked up again, and his mother raised an unimpressed brow at him. “The proof has been presented to you as it has been presented to me. Are you aware of evidence we are not?”

“I’m aware that there is a possibility, however slim, that he is telling the truth. Even if he had stolen it and intended to put it to use, the sword has been retrieved. He presents no real immediate threat. If anything, I believe he would have committed the crime as a scared boy with family he wishes to protect. Surely that is something any of us can understand. He may be deserving of punishment, yes, but death?”

The room had fallen into utter silence. Jens didn’t dare look at any of the Court members, but he chanced a glance at Lucas. The other boy was staring back at him, with all surprise now wiped from his face. He wore a carefully constructed blank expression, that didn’t break as Jens looked back at him.

Jens didn’t know why he felt such a strong urge to save him. But now that he’d started, he couldn’t bring his own argument to an end.

“So what else do you suggest?” His mother asked this at length, unwillingly.

He shouldn’t have spoken out. It wasn’t his place. It wasn’t good for her, he knew, to have her rule questioned in public by her own son. But he’d argued without thinking, looking at Lucas and feeling an inexplicable need to stand up for him. To protect.

“It’s his loyalty in question, is it not?” Jens raised a brow and waited for her nod. “So let him prove it. I’m sure someone youthful and strong could have a place serving the Court.”

The murmur picked up again. Jens resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he skipped over all the incredulous looks to find his friends, and was assured to have Sander and Senne watching on with surprise but approval. Sander cocked a brow at him, as if impressed, while Senne merely nodded his encouragement.

His mother stared at him. “Your suggestion is to allow him a position in the castle?”

“He couldn’t be placed under more watch,” Jens said simply. “I would rather test someone’s loyalty and perhaps gain a better bond than let a life go to waste.”

This murmur sounded somewhat agreeable, though it was silenced the second the Queen raised her hand. “There are no positions in the Court up for offer, and I cannot possibly gift a thief the sword he’d stolen.”

Jens didn’t even pause to think. “I don’t have a personal servant.”

There was, surprisingly, no murmur. The room was eerily quiet as Jens and his mother stared each other down and Lucas flitted his gaze between them.

It was not a lie, and was perhaps even the reason he had been doing this. He was tired of fussy maids lacing his shirts and buttoning his coats and buckling his cuffs. His sisters both had maid-servants, while Jens was left with an array of strangers carrying out various duties, never even able to become familiar with faces as they avoided contact and conversation at all costs. He did his best to be amicable with the castle staff, to form relationships, to form bonds. But aside from the few close friends he saw only on occasion (and even they were sons of various Lords in various agreements with his mother), and a few chosen guards, Jens spent most of his time alone.

He wouldn’t have minded someone like Lucas by his side. Someone his age, who wasn’t afraid to look him in the eye.

“You wish to risk letting a criminal become your personal servant? You would trust him to be so close to you?”

Jens let his mother stare disapprovingly at him before shifting his gaze to Lucas. They considered each other, concrete met with intrigue, before Jens gave a simple shrug. “I would.” He saw Lucas shake his head slightly in disbelief, and only became more sure. He turned back to his mother and kept his expression and tone firm. “It’s my risk to take, and I believe there isn’t much risk to it. If I am wrong, then I should get what’s coming to me.”

A few of the guards gave a quiet titter in acceptance, and he watched as his mother looked at a spot in the crowd for a lengthy moment.

Then she was nodding her acceptance.

She looked down upon Lucas. “Very well. You will have a guard assigned to you that will accompany you on any outings, alone or with the Prince. While you are in his service, there will be guards stationed at his door and extra security provided throughout the castle. It is only as a sign of trust towards my son that you are being given leniency. You should be grateful to him that you are leaving here with your life.” She looked to the guard on his left, the one that had spoken calmly to them without laying a finger on Lucas. “Take him and remain with him until the new measures I eventually decide upon are fully put in place.” She then turned to the room at large and raised her voice to address them all. “You are dismissed.”

Lucas listened to her silently, and remained wordless as Berg yanked him to his feet. Jens watched on until his mother spoke up again.

“Jens, you are to accompany him now. If he is not to be trusted from the beginning then he is not to be trusted without his apparent savior. You are also dismissed,” she said. “Though you will be meeting me again later to discuss this decision further.”

Jens bit back a sigh and rose to his feet. The intrigue spiraling up in him was quickly turning to elation. He felt that he had been entirely right to speak up and to continue to stand his ground, and it was a thrilling realisation that he could. It had even been easy, to earn the support of his mother and the Court, in what at first seemed to be an unshakable stance.

As he made his way down the dais and met Lucas’s stony gaze, however, he considered that it may not be as simple as he thought.

[amydancepants-peralta]

in the spirit of 4/28: if you’re willing to write non-peraltiago POV, could you maybe write the moment(s) that leas terry to decide he needed to tell jake to propose?

Terry loves love ♥

It all comes to Terry a few weeks after the squad captured the fugitives, on what seems like just another Friday night at Shaw’s.

(Which hardly feels like the ideal setting for an epiphany, but Terry supposes that’s what makes it so … epiphanic.)

It had been a long week - New York seemed to be feeling particularly felonious lately - and he was doubly tired from spending his Wednesday off helping Jake move apartments. With Sharon and the kids staying overnight at her mother’s, and high odds for a sleep-in the following morning, Terry’s plans didn’t stretch much further than washing his week away with a glass of whiskey or six.

That is until Terry noticed, about an hour into the squad’s drinking session; that a suddenly quiet Jake had removed himself from their booth, relocating to a seat by the bar where he could keep a close eye on the entrance. Amy was late - a rarity for any Santiago, but doubly so for Amy - and as Boyle plonks a fresh glass in front of him; Terry remembers watching her bolt out of the bullpen a few hours ago, a sudden lead on an otherwise dormant case too important to delay.

Terry hadn’t heard any updates since then; but given the lack of detailed reports landing in his inbox, and the look on Jake’s face whenever he checked his messages, he would have to assume the lead hadn’t panned out the way Amy hoped.

He’s in the midst of an argument with Rosa over which Friends character was superior (clearly Ross - Terry does not get all the Ross Hate) when Amy arrives ten minutes later, and Terry watches from his position in the corner as she heads straight towards Jake’s outstretched arms, her sense of defeat stretched clearly across sunken shoulders.

As though reverting to his detective days, Terry continues to observe the couple as Jake orders his girlfriend a beer, leading her over to another booth and sliding alongside her until their heads bow in quiet conversation. He thinks, as they talk and he sips, that there was once a time where Amy would have spent the rest of her evening at the precinct, pouring over paperwork, certain it’s the reason why they can’t catch the perp. Just as Jake would have taken the opportunity to boldly declare how he could have done it better - consequences (and unintentionally, feelings) unconsidered.

But now, Amy laughs with her head thrown back while Jake beams with pride; and in the past year or so has been known - after three drinks - to steal her boyfriend away to a slightly more secluded corner of the bar, dancing cheek to cheek to music only the two of them can hear.

It truly was the greatest thing to see, and part of Terry wishes he’d picked up on it sooner.

He watches Jake and Amy for the rest of the evening - even if they weren’t in the bullpen, these people were his work family, and Terry would look out for them anywhere - and as the empties begin to pile up at the squad’s table, the most simplest of truths comes to light. Somewhere along the way - in-between fire extinguisher roller chair derbies, robot captains and covert jimmy jabs - Jake Peralta had transformed into the man that Terry had always known he could be.

Gone was the promising detective that hadn’t quite figured out the puzzle on how to grow up, monopolising too much time in Terry’s therapy sessions. And in his place was one of the 99’s greatest detectives: a brilliant mind at solving puzzles, and a gentle soul who brought two extra gifts to last year’s Secret Santa, ‘just in case Scully and Hitchcock forgot again’.

Who's grin grew impossibly huge each time he’d said the words ‘our apartment’ since the move three days ago. A man who couldn’t get over Amy after that very first crush - no matter how hard he tried - because just like when Terry met Sharon, and they talked about Meatloaf until the bar closed around them; your heart always knows when you’ve found The One.

Jake had grown into someone that finally understood how worthy he was of love, and had a world of it to give in return. A man that was clearly ready to marry the love of his life - the one and only Amy Santiago - and her eyes already sparkled with an unspoken yes to any question of forever.

He thinks about the conversation they had that day in the squad car, racing to find escaped convicts and venting about wasted acrylics; and Jake’s muttered ‘Cool. Basically telling me to never get married or have kids’ in response. Terry hadn’t been lying - a march towards the closet does begin with a single step - but he’d neglected to mention all the great things that came with that closet.

Like coming home to see Sharon and the girls dancing to Destiny’s Child in the living room, or late afternoon naps with tiny heads snuggled into your side. Chaotic mornings filled with stress that melted away the instant you heard “I love you, Daddy”; and treasured moments of peace with Sharon, the couch, and a bottle of wine.

Terry would give up all the acrylics in the world for a hundred more moments just like that - and as the last drop of whiskey drains from his glass, he knows exactly what he needs to do.

***

Terry calls Sharon on the way home - waiting until he’s said goodnight to each one of his angels before telling her his plan. “So. I think Jake should propose to Amy.”

He can almost hear her smile down the phone line, and it makes him wish they’d be back from Sharon’s mother’s sooner. “You do?”

He shrugs into the otherwise empty interior, flexing his grip on the steering wheel out of habit. “Yeah. They’re clearly in love with each other, and … you know. He has that look.”

Sharon laughs - the same laugh Terry heard from his kitchen one morning, a year into their relationship, and just knew that he wanted to hear it for the rest of his life - before asking, “What look?”

“You know. The one I kept giving you when we first started dating. Like I’d finally found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. So excited and completely scared that somebody could try and take it away.”

“Mmm, I know it well. And when it comes to Jake and Amy, somebody almost did .. right?”

Nodding, Terry thinks of the afternoons he’d find Amy crying in her car, the devastation of another day not knowing where Jake was hiding too hard to conceal for another minute. “Yeah. Almost.”

“Well … if you didn’t try and play cupid, you wouldn’t be the man I married, Terrence Jeffords.”

Terry’s shoulders bounce as he breaks into a tiny happy dance, and he grins. “Terry loves love, baby. Almost as much as Terry loves Sharon.”

“I love you too, baby. And we’ll be back home the day after tomorrow, just in time for you to hatch a plan on how to play matchmaker with my god-husband. I have a pretty good instinct he’ll make a great actual husband … and hopefully it’s someday soon. I am ready for a night of serious dancing.”

* * *

Terry wears his lucky red tie the following Monday, settling into his desk to focus on paperwork as the question of exactly how his plan will unfold remains unanswered at the back of his mind.

Before it’s even 10am, he manages to catch five not-so-secret glances between the two lovebirds (a private joke of some sort dancing in their grins); and pretends to be pre-occupied with his work when Amy sneaks in a quick good luck kiss before Jake leaves for the interrogation room. Terry watches it all with a suppressed grin, switching between several versions of his How To Encourage A Proposal plan as he signs off on the last form in his tray.

These two were clearly in love - and Terry couldn’t wait to see them take that next amazing step.

He catches Jake in the kitchen an hour later, watching as the detective rescues the puzzle section of Scully’s newspaper from certain destruction, placing it on Amy’s desk with a grin. As they stop to discuss Ocampo - a dealer that Jake and Rosa have just begun to tail - all of Terry’s pre-conceived plans of a casual topic change fall quickly by the wayside. As it turns out, telling a person they should propose is not something that comes up easily on it’s own.

And then he opens the fridge for his next scheduled snack, and realises that all this time, Terry’s inspiration was waiting in the very things he cherished the most.

The blueberry and vanilla yogurt containers feel cool against his fingertips, and with his stomach growling at the promise of a delicious meal, Terry nudges the door shut with his hip and calls out to his detective.

“Hey, Jake. Let me show you something amazing.”

(Terry really does believe that yoghurt is the solution to everything.)

[supernatural-jackles]

Seeing You Again

Title: Seeing You Again

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 10,871

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Virginity Loss, Implications of Depression,  Smut, Love Lost, Divorce, Tears. Jensen is an innocent, love struck sweetheart.

Summary: Fifteen years had passed since you had seen the love of your life, Jensen Ackles. Your childhood sweetheart, the man of your dreams. The two of you separated against your wishes. Until he walks into your bakery one day without knowing you owned it. You never expected old feelings to resurface, let alone something more

Square Filled: Childhood Sweethearts ( @spnfluffbingo​) First Time ( @spngenrebingo​)

A/N: Happy Tuesday!! My posting schedule is remaining the same from now until the middle of August. You get a new update every Tuesday and Sunday!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Happy reading! 

  You tied your apron around your waist, making sure it was secure before bunching up your hair in a quick messy bun. It was a busy Saturday afternoon and you had multiple things on the go already.

 You were a baker; at least that was one of your job titles anyways. Business owner, workaholic, you name it. You lived a busy life. You worked six days a week at the bakery you owned in Dallas Texas, and had for the last three years. A successful little place you called Sweethearts. A name you had picked out for longer than you’d ever admit to anyone.

 Every day was something new. A new order, or arrangement of orders. New faces, and familiar faces. The same smiles and thank you’s you got with every purchase. It was something you loved doing. You loved to bake and you loved to see the look on people’s faces when they picked up one of your creations for someone they loved.

 This was your dream, believe it or not. You had always wanted to own your own business and be your own boss. You were never one for following the rules, no matter who the leader was. You never wanted to be some corporate lawyer, or a nine to five, hating every second of life kind of person. You wanted every day to be an adventure. You wanted to be independent.

 You rolled out the fondant on your bakers table, getting ready to throw it over your double chocolate cookie cake for a special order. A lady wanted something special for her son’s tenth birthday so you were making a cookie monster cake in hopes he’d like it. In the distance, the timer for your oven went off, indicating that your in house pie was done.

 Saturday’s were typically busy days. Today was no different. Thankfully you had most of your orders done for the morning. It was only this cake that needed finished before you could take a break and make some simple cookies.

 “Hey Y/N, someone wants to see you,” your assistant called back. You wiped your hands on your apron as you walked out into the front of your shop. An older lady was standing there, a wide smile playing on her lips.

 “Hi there,” you greeted her.

 “Are you the owner of this place?” she asked.

 “Why yes I am,” you nodded. “Is there something I can help you with?”

 “I just wanted to give compliments to you. You run a very nice business. The treats are out of this world. In all my time, I’ve never had a chocolate chip cookie taste so good,” she beaned.

 “Thank you! That means a lot to me,” you nodded with a smile.

 “If you’re not already taken, my grandson would love a woman like you,” she teased, adjusting her jacket around her arms.

 “I’m married to my work,” you told her.  “Someone has to make all the orders.”

 “Well, you let me know,” she winked. “Take care now.”

 You waved the older lady off, watching her walk out the front door of your shop. Each seat was taken. You watched as people sipped away at their coffees and every one of them had some sort of baked good from your display. You were finally doing something right.

 “You know, you’re going to have to settle down someday,” your assistant, Victoria smiled at you.

 “I know,” you sighed. “Someday.”

 You walked into the back, getting back into finishing your cake. It needed to be done in less than an hour for the woman picking it up. You had to get your blue buttercream ready for the top of the cake, and the few cookies you had set aside to finish the top. It was going to be a breeze. You couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw the cake. The customer's reaction was always one of your favourite things. You loved seeing their smile.

 You took a deep breath, mixing up the buttercream and food colouring to get the correct consistency. Your mind wandered back to the older lady for a moment. Sure you were thirty one, but you had tons of time to settle down and find someone to spend the rest of your life with. Right now, you were a business woman. You had that and it was one hundred percent what your focus was on. You needed to continue to be successful. Relationships were overrated anyways.

 You poured the buttercream into the piping bag and began your design. You were excited to see how this was going to turn out. If it was good, it was definitely going on your instagram page.

 You could feel the sweat forming at your brow as you continued the last strokes on the cake. It looked amazing if you were to say so yourself. It turned out much better than you were expecting it to, times a million. This was definitely going to make that ten year old’s birthday.

 “Customer is here for the cake order,” Victoria called back to you.

 “Coming right out.”

 You boxed up the cake in a nice blue one you had custom made for purposes like this. It already said happy birthday on the side, along with some balloons. It was all about making the customer happy. You carefully lifted it off the counter and headed out to the front of the store with it in hand.

 “Alright, cookie monster cake,” you smiled, placing it down on the counter by the register, opening it up. “Cookie dough cake inside, along with homemade chocolate chip cookies on top and a blue buttercream topping,” you smiled proudly, looking down at your cake.

 “Gotta say Y/N, I always knew you’d be successful,” a deep voice said. You hadn’t even looked up at the customer yet. That voice was so familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on who it was. Until you finally glanced up. Those piercing green eyes boring into yours.

 “J-Jensen?” you breathed out.

 “You’ve outdone yourself,” he smiled at you.

 “W-what are you doing here?” you cocked your head to the side.

 “My sister in law sent me to pick up the cake for my nephews tenth birthday,” he said. “I had no idea this was your place. Although, I have to say, it’s very you if I remember correctly.”

 “Thank you,” you smiled.

 “How much do I owe you?” he asked.

 “Uh, twenty two dollars,” you breathed out.

 “Do you accept tips?” he questioned as he reached for his wallet in his back pocket.

 “Yes,” you nodded.

 “Perfect. All I have is a fifty. Keep the change, sweetheart,” he winked. “You certainly deserve it. This cake looks perfect.”

 “Thanks Jensen,” you swallowed hard, not daring to take your eyes off of him. That fucking nickname. The whole reason why this place was called Sweethearts. The man you had fallen in love with all those years ago. “Take care.”

 You watched as he walked out the door with the box in his hands. You couldn’t believe it. Out of all the people you expected to walk in, he was never one of them. The man you had grown up with. The first and only man you had every loved with your whole heart. The one that slipped away.

 “Who was that?” Melaine, your part time girl who helped keep your shop in working order.

 “Just some guy I used to know a long time ago,” you smiled at her.

 “Did you guys used to be together?” she inquired as she poured a cup of coffee.

 “Yeah, for a while,” you breathed out.

 “Well, with the way he was looking at you, I’d say there is definitely some feelings still there,” she chuckled. “I wish my boyfriend looked at me the way Jensen just looked at you.”

 “Who was looking at who?” Victoria popped her head out and asked.

 “A very hot customer was looking at Y/N. Apparently they have history,” Melanie wiggled her eyebrows.

 “Shut up,” you shook your head, trying to repress your smile.

 “Awwww,” Victoria cooed.

 “He had heart eyes for her. Major heart eyes,” she beamed.

 “You guys, he’s an old friend. Nothing more. Now we’re dropping it,” you stated before walking back into the kitchen to begin your clean up.

 Your heart was still racing in your chest. It had been a really long time since you had seen Jensen in person. Sure, you followed all of his social media and kept up with what he was doing. He was an actor and had been for the longest time. He was successful at what he wanted to do and you cheered him on from your own tiny part of the world. But seeing him again after all this time, it wasn’t easy. It made you realize just how much you missed the way he’d call you sweetheart. You missed that in the sound of his voice, which was a lot deeper than it was the last time you heard it directed at you.

 The afternoon dragged on and four became six. Victoria and Melaine cleaned everything out front and took a few things to go home. You were left with closing up and counting the money made in sales before you could head home. You were just packaging up the last of the cookies when you heard the ding of the door.

 “Sorry, we’re closed now. We open back up on Monday,” you called out, closing the packet.

 “Uh, sorry,” the familiar voice said, causing you to look up. Jensen was standing by the door with a nervous look on his face. You swallowed hard, not knowing where exactly you should look at him.

 “Jensen,” you breathed out.

 “Hey,” he half smiled, taking a step forward.

 “Hi,” you said awkwardly, instantly cursing yourself for it. “Did your nephew like his cake?”

 “Oh yeah,” he let out a chuckle. “Said it was the best birthday cake he’s ever had.”

 “Good, I’m glad,” you nodded.

 “How long have you been in Texas?” he asked, making his way over to the counter.

 “Almost thirteen years now,” you told him.

 “T-thirteen years?”

 “Yeah,” you sighed. “I hated it in Minnesota.”

 “You’ve always been a Texan at heart,” he smirked, going quiet for a moment. “You know, you’re even more beautiful now than you were fifteen years ago.”

 “Jensen,” your cast your eyes down, unsure of what to say. “We’re not the same people we were back then.”

 “I know,” he nodded, licking his bottom lip before he looked at you. “Doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful.”

 “What are you doing here, Jensen?” you asked him, opening up the package of cookies, motioning for him to take one.

 “I - uh,” he paused, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. “I was hoping that maybe I’d catch you before you headed home. Uh, maybe see if you would want to go out for dinner? Catch up?”

 “You sure you want to do that mister famous actor?” you teased him, watching his chest fall as he let out a laugh.

 “So you’ve been keeping up a little,” he said with a chuckle.

 “Here and there,” you shrugged. “I do have to finish up here before I do anything.”

 “Anything I can help with?” He offered as he took a cookie from the packet. You smiled, closing it right, trying not to look at Jensen. “These taste amazing. They are even better than I remember.”

 “Same recipe I used before,” you told him. “If you want to pack up the rest of these while I do the deposit, I’d appreciate it. I know it’s not what you’re used to.”

 “Nah. Put me to work,” he assured you.

 You showed him where the containers were and he got to work instantly, starting from the right side of the display, moving onwards. You headed over to the cash, taking out the register to bring it to your office which was right by the display.

 “How long has this place been open?” Jensen asked you.

 “Almost three years,” you answered, emptying out the till.

 “Gotta say, you’re pretty successful here,” he told you. “Lots of customers. Bakery is amazing. I always thought you’d open up one in Minnesota.”

 “I couldn’t wait to leave,” you admitted. “I lasted two years before I came back to Texas. It’s always been my home.”

 “Your mom still there?”

 “Yeah, with her boyfriend dickwad,” you shared. “At least, that’s what I call him. Not the biggest fan of him if you couldn’t tell.”

 “Your dad here then?”

 “He’s around here somewhere. He stopped talking to me after mom took me away after the divorce was finalized,” you revealed. “Now, he doesn’t talk to me much.”

 “That sucks,” he frowned.

 “How long are you visiting for?” You dared to ask.

 “Few days before I head back. Changed my flight,” he said lowly.

 “When were you supposed to leave?” You cocked your eyebrow.

 “Tomorrow at three in the morning,” he said sheepishly. “But I knew as soon as I saw you-“

 “Jensen, dont,” you swallowed hard.

 “C’mon, it’s not like we parted on bad terms,” he reminded you. “It’s not like either of us had a choice in the matter. You were leaving to move a million miles away.”

 “I know,” you nodded. “But It’s different now. I’m not sixteen anymore. You’re not sixteen.”

 “No. I’m thirty one,” he reminded you. “Back then, we didn’t have cell phones or whatever. It’s different now, but at the same time, it feels exactly the same.”

 “It’s not going to work,” you shook your head.

 “Okay, say you are right,” he paused, glancing over to you in the office. “Will you at least hang out with me for one night?”

 “Considering you probably aren’t going to leave until I say yes, fine,” you stated.

 “You’re not wrong,” he shrugged.

 You finished counting up the money from the day and put it in the safe before locking it up. You pulled your keys out, grabbing your jacket before shutting the door behind you. You took a deep breath, seeing Jensen standing there waiting in anticipation. You knew this was going to be a mistake. You knew it the second he walked in here that this was a mistake. Too much time had gone by between you and you couldn’t let yourself snap back into what the two of you had before you parted ways.

 “Ready?” he asked you.

 “Yeah,” you nodded, tightening your jacket around yourself. Jensen placed his hand on your back, walking with you towards the front doors of your little shop. You pulled your purse over your shoulder before switching keys to lock up the place.

 He stood by the curb, his hand in the air to hail a taxi to take the two of you wherever. You could feel your stomach getting tighter. You were nervous. Something you hadn’t felt around a guy in a very long time.

 A taxi pulled over to the side of the road, stopping right in front of you and Jensen. You let out a shaky breath as he opened up the door, motioning for you to get in first. He joined you seconds later, shutting the door.

 “Hi, could you drop us off at Beertown please,” Jensen said to the driver. A young man who simply nodded his head without a word. It took everything in you not to look over at Jensen. You wanted to so bad. You wanted to see if the freckles still dusted over his cheeks. You wanted to see the greens of his eyes and get lost in the millions of stories he had seen over the years.

 It was a short ride to the restaurant he was taking you to. One of the ones you frequented growing up. You were never legal to drink, but the food was amazing and so was the atmosphere. It was where he took you for your first date. One you’d never forget. You were more nervous about this dinner than you were on the first date.

 He helped you out of the taxi and led you to the front door of the restaurant. You took another deep breath, trying to control yourself as the waiter led you to your table in the back. Somewhere a little more private as Jensen asked for.

 “It feels like it was a lifetime ago that we were here,” he commented.

 “It was a lifetime ago,” you said. “We were fifteen. Still in high school.”

 “Back when everything was simple and all we had to worry about was finals,” he chuckled.

 “That and I remember worrying about my parents fighting all the time. ‘T’s why I spent so much time with you at your place. Your family always got along, unlike mine. I liked it there,” you shared.

 “It sucked a lot when you were gone,” he swallowed hard. “I know we parted on good terms but it was hard without you.”

 “Least you had your friends though,” you reminded him.

 “I still have your letter,” he confessed. “In my apartment in Vancouver. I still have it.”

 “Really?” you breathed out.

 “Yeah,” he smiled. “I wrote you back and then never heard from you again.”

 “Mom was pissed at me,” you sighed. “Moving away from everything and everyone I knew was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. It was worse when she didn’t listen to me when I told her I was struggling. Failed three classes my last semester of high school. Managed to get into UT and left. I was homesick and I missed you.”

 “I missed you,” he stated. “Hell, I went to prom with my buddies.”

 “I think we made it worse for ourselves though, Jensen,” you breathed out.

 “Hey there. What can I get for the two of you?” the waiter smiled, pulling out her notepad.

 “We’ll have two classic burgers, some fries and two of whatever you have on tap please,” Jensen told him.

 “Coming right up,” he nodded, taking off to the next table.

 “What do you mean you think we made things worse?” he cocked his head to the side, folding his arms on the table.

 “I think you know exactly what I mean, Jay,” you said lowly.

 “Are you - do you mean the night before you left?” he furrowed his brows. “The night we-”

 “Yeah,” you nodded.

 “Do you regret it?” he inquired.

 “No. Of course not. But it made everything a million times harder,” you revealed. “It was all I could think about from the time I left until I got there. Even then, I thought it wasn’t going to be so bad because we were both applying to UT and we were going to see each other again soon enough.”

 “But I didn’t,” he frowned. “I left for LA instead.”

 “It is what it is,” you nodded. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not proud of you. I want you to know that. I’ve been following you from the start. I watch every episode, and every movie. I’ve seen your interviews and I follow all your accounts on everything. Hell I’ve even seen some convention footage.”

 “I wish I could do the same with you,” he brought up. “Trust me, I’ve looked and haven’t been successful so far. Made me wonder if you got married and changed your name.”

 “No. I’m not married,” you chuckled. “Not to anyone at least. Work maybe.”

 “Here are your meals and your beer. Enjoy!” the waiter smiled as he placed everything down on the table. He even brought some ketchup for the fries and a bottle of vinegar. You gave him a warm smile with your thank you, looking forward to diving in.

 “What about you?” you dared to ask.

 “What about me?” he furrowed his brows.

 “C’mon, a guy like you has to have a girlfriend,” you teased him.

 “Nope,” he shook his head, picking up his burger.

 “Yeah, I find that very hard to believe. Girls were always fawning over you in high school and I’ve seen what people say about you on the internet,” you giggled.

 “See, the only one that mattered to me was you. You have had my attention since I met you in kindergarten,” he let out a laugh. “My parents always said we were childhood sweethearts.”

 “We were,” you agreed. “You were my first everything, Jensen. Quite frankly, I’m glad you were too.”

 “Why is that?” he cocked his eyebrow.

 “Because you treated me like a queen,” you shrugged, taking a fry off the plate. “You treated me better than anyone’s first boyfriend does at that age. You set my expectations high, which is why I’m not married or with anyone. No one can live up to the simple standards you set when we were sixteen years old.”

 “Good,” he declared. “You deserve to be treated like a queen. Don’t settle for anything less. I was honoured to be your knight in shining armour.”

 “You mean king?” you corrected him.

 “No,” he shook his head. “I’m simply a knight, sweetheart.” And just like that, you melted into the seat. You felt like you were sixteen again, sitting in the passenger's seat of his truck, staring out at the sunset in the field. The little moments that meant a lot to you.

 “Well I beg to differ, darlin’,” you winked, trying to play it cool. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. How could it possibly feel like no time had passed between you? Fifteen years had gone by and yet, you connected if it was just yesterday.

 “I missed that,” he smirked.

 “What?” you cocked your head to the side.

 “You calling me darlin’, or honey,” he admitted almost nervously. “For the record, you made me feel like a king, even if I was a knight.”

 You grabbed your burger off your plate, finally taking a bite from it. The flavours danced on your tastebuds, bringing you back. This whole night was filled with nostalgia. You came to the conclusion that this couldn’t happen again after tonight. It was too hard to sit with him, and reminisce about how great things were many years ago. It was hard to sit with him and look at his soft features you had spent so much time with and know that it was in the past. Jensen was your best friend growing up. He was your rock. Your light in the darkness. But you couldn’t let him back into your life again and have things go sour this time around. You needed to keep those happy memories happy. Not turn them into something you have to speak to a therapist about in two years.

 “When do you leave?” you asked him, taking a sip of your beer.

 “Monday night,” he answered, taking a fry off the plate. “So I’m here another day and a bit.”

 “I’m sure your parents are happy to see you,” you half smiled.

 “Yeah,” he nodded. “They think I work too much. I don’t visit often enough according to them.”

 “Your parents are cute,” you giggled. “They still have your bedroom in tact?”

 “No actually. They did some renovations on the house and turned my room into one of the kids rooms when they have over the grandkids. I’m staying in a hotel for the next few nights. They have an extra room in the basement for me but it’s not ready yet.”

 “Your parents were always the busy type,” you pointed out. “Your mom was always doing something when I was there.”

 You watched as Jensen brought his beer up to his lips, taking a good drink of it. Your eyes wandered over his features once more. His soft hair sticking up and leaning a little more to his right. The crinkles by his eyes made you smile, especially when he did. He was handsome and he only got better with age. He had grown into himself now that you allowed yourself to look at him. He wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore.

 “Can I get you guys anything for dessert?” the waiter asked as he cleared away your plates.

 “No thank you,” you mouth to Jensen.

 “No thanks, can we just get the cheque please,” he nodded politely.

 You sat still in your seat, reaching for your phone in your purse to check your messages. This wasn’t a date, you reminded yourself. This was acceptable and this was you check on your business. You had no email orders thankfully and everything else looked fine. It was seeming more likely that you could have a day to rest tomorrow instead of in the kitchen. You took a deep breath, hoping that maybe you and Jensen would part ways after this and you could head home to spend the night in your apartment.

 The waiter came over, placing the cheque on the table. Before you could even look at it, Jensen had taken out his wallet and placed some money inside it. He never let you pay for dinner, even back then.

 “Thank you for dinner, Jensen,” you smiled at him.

 “Thank you for joining me,” he half smiled. “Any chance your night is free?”

 “What did you have in mind?” you cocked your eyebrow.

 “Honestly, nothing. I just don’t want to leave you yet,” he confessed. You were a little confused for a moment. You couldn’t understand why he wanted to spend more time with you. He was a famous actor now. You were a small town girl he was with a million years ago. You had history but this was almost too far. You appreciated his honesty. You just had a bad feeling about this.

 “Jensen,” you breathed out, getting up from your seat. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

 “You feel it too?” he asked, almost sheepishly. You licked your bottom lip, your eyes casting down. Your heart rate picked up a little at his words. There was this awkward tension that had been sitting there with you most of the night, just waiting to make its move. It finally had.

 “Feel what, exactly?” you dared to ask.

 “This awkward weirdness that’s never been there before,” he pointed out. “Something telling you to walk away.”

 “Yeah, I do,” you nodded, adjusting your purse over your shoulder. You let out a sigh. “But there is also this stupid feeling inside of me that’s stopping me from walking away.  That same stupid feeling I got when you asked me to dinner.”

 “That same feeling when you saw me earlier today,” he breathed out.

 “Yeah,” you whispered.

 “C’mon,” he motioned for you to follow him. You nodded your head, letting him lead the way out of the restaurant. The sun was starting to set, creating a nice warm orange tone in the sky. Jensen walked down the sidewalk, a few steps ahead of you.

 What the hell were you doing? You barely knew him now. He was Jensen Ackles, a well known actor. You were Y/N Y/L/N. You owned a tiny bakery. That was your accomplishment. He had everything and so much more. He was the definition of success. Everyone loved him. You are not about to be a part of that. You were not about to be reckless after years of hard work.

 “Jensen wait,” you swallowed hard, as you stopped in front of the park, taking a seat on the bench. He looked at you in confusion before taking a seat next to you.

 “What’s up?”

 “Where are we going?” you shrugged. “What are we doing?”

 “I- I don’t know,” he sighed.

 “I can’t do this, Jensen,” you shook your head. “I’m not doing this. I’m sorry. It was really nice seeing you after all this time.”

 With that, you got up and started walking the other direction. You couldn’t sit there with him. You could go wherever he was going to take you and you certainly couldn’t let yourself get attached to the idea of loving him again. He was your childhood sweetheart. The one who taught you what love was and how to love someone with everything. Too much time had passed and you were two completely different people now. There was no changing that and you didn’t want to.

 “Y/N, wait up,” you heard Jensen call out from behind you, followed by heavy footsteps, indicating that he was running after you.

 “Jensen-“

 Before you could even get a word out, his lips were on yours, kissing you hard. His hands came up to your cheeks, just like they used to when he kissed you unexpectedly. Your heart was fluttering in your chest and you could feel your lips tingling at the sudden contact. You wanted to reach out for him; pull him in close and kiss him like you used to for hours on end. His lips were soft along with the stubble growing on his face. You couldn’t deny kissing him back as your eyes fluttered shut. His breathing was heavy after running, shortening the kiss by quite a bit.

 “Sorry,” he swallowed hard. “I had to.”

 “It’s okay,” you nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. Your eyes cast down for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.

 “Look, seeing you - it brought up a lot of memories that I don’t think I was ready for. I never really got over you, you know? You were in my life everyday for eleven years and then you were just gone and I barely got to say a proper goodbye.”

 “You did,” you assured him. “That last night before when we had sex for the first time. That was goodbye.”

 “You know that’s not what I mean,” he said softly. “I don’t want to leave this on bad terms.”

 “We’re not going to,” you assured him. His lip curled upwards as his piercing green eyes met yours. You could feel the tension building between the two of you. His words swirling around in your head. He never really got over you, just the same as you never got over him. He was the one you lost all those years ago and it didn’t seem like he was walking away without a fight. Not this time.

 “My hotel is just down the street. What do I have to do to convince you to come with me?” he smirked, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face.

 “Depends,” you played. “What are we going to do?”

 “Nothing you aren’t comfortable with,” he said. “I just know I'm going to regret it if I don’t ask you.”

 His words were honest. For a second, you saw a glimpse of a boy you knew a long time ago. A boy who was willing to do anything to put a smile on your face. Deep down, you knew he was still in there. He had to be for people to talk about him the way they did. He was admired by everyone he worked with.

 “Alright,” you agreed, nodding your head.

 “I’m not expecting anything-”

 “I know,” you smiled.

 “So what was Minnesota like?” he asked, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you walked down the sidewalk.

 “Shitty,” you scoffed. “People aren’t that nice. After my first class at my new school, I went into the bathroom and cried. It was the first time I had no one and I was terrified. It’s why I came back to Texas. My mom was too busy with her new boyfriend to even notice.”

 “You didn’t make any friends?” he furrowed his brows.

 “No. Not a single one. I didn’t go to prom. I thought about skipping graduation,” you confessed.  “I never want to feel like that again.”

 “Anyone ask you to prom?” he cocked his head.

 “Yeah, one guy,” you shook your head. “Only because he thought I was a virgin and he wanted to up his score.”

 “Really?” he swallowed hard.

 “I told him I had a boyfriend with a huge dick and I wasn’t interested in contracting herpes,” you let out a laugh.

 “That’s my girl,” he smiled, pulling you in tighter to him.

 “What about you? How many girlfriends have you had since?” you poked his side playfully.

 “Three including you,” he answered. “I didn’t date anyone for a few years after you. I was about twenty when I started dating a girl who was a year younger and that lasted for about a year. She and I just didn’t click after sometime. Then a couple of years later, I met someone who was really cool. We dated for two years before calling it quits. I work too much and so did she. We were just better off without each other.”

 “Sucks when you work a lot in a different country,” you breathed out.

 “It does,” he agreed. “You dated anyone else?”

 “One guy in college for about three years,” you shared. “Justin. Turns out you can date someone for three years and not really know them all that well.”

 “Oh really?” he frowned, leading you into the front doors of the hotel.

 “Yeah,” you sighed. “I called you a king. Well this guy was more like a street rat in the end.”

 “Like Aladdin kind of street rat?” he joked playfully.

 “Shut up,” you giggled. “Worse. Aladdin at least had a good heart. He got the princess in the end. I’m talking about Jafar here!”

 “Fuck that guy,” he stated. “You deserve better than that.”

 “I had better than that,” you reminded him. “You ever think about what would have happened if my parents never split and I never would have left?”

 “Sometimes,” he admitted. “I always come to the same conclusion though.”

 “Which is?”

 “You hating me,” he revealed. “If you never left, we would have made it to graduation and I would have left for LA and it would have been a messy break up and you would have hated me. Or I would have accidently knocked you up and ruined your life and you would have hated me. Say that never happened, I work in a different country and the distance would have driven us apart and you would have hated me. No situation has a good outcome.”

 “You always were an overthinker,” you teased him.

 “So are you,” he chuckled.

 He led you over to the elevators on the right side of the hotel lobby. His arm was still around you, tucking you into him. You had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen as soon as you entered his hotel room. You knew his expectations were low, and you understood that. But god, did you miss him. You never really realized until his lips were on yours. Everything came flooding back to you. Suddenly, you were sixteen years old again and nothing had changed.

 “Jensen,” you whispered as soon as the elevator doors shut. He leaned over, pressing number twenty seven. “I could never hate you.”

 “Yeah, but you could not like me and that’s not something I want,” he admitted. “I’m going to be honest with you here. I know I’m a little off tonight. Not that you could tell, but I can.”

 “You’re a little clingy,” you joked, wrapping your arm around his waist.

 “My best friend got married two weeks ago,” he sighed. “I was one of his groomsmen at the wedding. I just see him with her and how happy they are, and when I did, the first thought that came to mind was you. I still think about you, more than I should. Maybe it’s because we never really split up for a bad reason. Both of us still had strong feelings for each other and we were ripped apart from each other. Then I saw you today, after looking for you for years, in Texas again and I - I just knew I had to take a chance.”

 Your mouth went dry at his words as the elevator doors dinged open on floor twenty seven. You didn’t know exactly what to think. Did he just miss you? Was this a mid life, I’m never going to settle down kind of thing? Was he just thinking of you because of what you had a million years ago. Jensen didn’t know the person you were now. He didn’t know what the last fifteen years of your life were like, and you didn’t know about his.

 But that didn’t mean that you didn’t miss him. After all, he was the only man you had ever loved. You were convinced he was the love of your life for the longest time.

 “W-which room?” you asked him.

 “End of the hall,” he pointed to the left.

 You stepped out first, holding out your hand for him to take. He ducked his head down, trying to hide his smile before slipping his hand in yours. His hands were rougher than you remember them being, and a little bit bigger. Engulfing yours in warmth. You could smile without him seeing. You didn’t want to give away the fact that you loved the feeling of his hand in yours again.

 “Here,” he stopped you, releasing your hand. You stood next to him, watching him slide the key into the door before the green light flashed. He opened up the door, motioning for you to walk inside.

 You could smell the cool hotel room air as soon as you stepped inside. The first thing you noticed was the big window on the other side of the room. It took up the entire part of the wall. The view was beautiful. It was nice to see Dallas from this perspective.

 You turned around, seeing Jensen standing behind you with his hands in his jean pockets. He was looking at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. Your eyes darted to the king sized bed in the middle of the room. He had his bag on the chair next to the bed.

 “So to continue on from what you said in the elevator,” you paused, “you’re in a bit of a dark place, huh?”

 “I was,” he admitted. “Then I saw you today. Randomly, out of the blue. You were just there.”

 “Coincidence,” you shrugged.

 “Or fate,” he swallowed hard.

 “Or fate,” you breathed out. You felt your heart rate picking up as you looked at him.

 “You haven’t changed much,” he said lowly. “You’re still kind, and caring. You still laugh at the same things. Back then, I thought you couldn’t get anymore beautiful. Until I saw you today.”

 “You age like fine wine yourself,” you smirked. “You’re taller, and more muscular.”

 “I grew up a bit,” he chuckled.

 “Still got your cute lil’ bowlegs though,” you giggled, taking a step towards him.

 “Shut up,” he let out a laugh. “God, I want to kiss you again.”

 “What’s stopping you?” You asked him, taking a seat on the end of the bed, looking up at him.

 “Overthinking,” he let out a dry chuckle.

 “Spill.”

 “I could kiss you,” he paused. “But then I know I’m going to want to do it over and over again. I don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable. I don’t want to be the reason why we don’t talk again for another fifteen years.”

 “I think both of us are afraid of that,” you confessed. “But I’m also going into this prepared for that.”

 “So what are you saying?” He asked.

 “I’m saying we have tonight. Let’s just focus on that first,” you whispered. “We can go back to our lives after this.”

 “Can I at least grab your number before you leave?” he asked you.

 “I’ll think about it,” you played, getting up from the bed. “I have to say, it’s really good to see you again.”

 He stepped forward, slipping his hand around the small of your back. You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his touch, craving more of it. This time, you allowed yourself to hold him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You stood on your tiptoes, carefully pressing your lips to his in a hesitant kiss. His grip tightened on you, drawing you in closer as he kissed you back.

 Memories of the past came rushing back to you. Jensen was just a boy you were best friends with. The one you spent everyday with up until the day you left. You remember the day he kissed you for the first time like it was yesterday. Out in the park where you frequented. He sat at the end of the slide, waiting for you to come down one evening. It was just the two of you left. Everyone had gone home for dinner. He was so smooth and cute about it, which was one of the reasons why you fell so hard for him so quickly.

 Every moment from then on led up to now. You wanted this to be another addition to those memories. Your king making his way back to the castle for a moment. You knew it wasn’t going to be permanent and you were almost sure you could handle that, if it meant you had tonight with him.

 You parted your lips, deepening the kiss as your arms tightened around his shoulders. Every so often, his nose brushed against the side of yours. His tongue slipped across yours, and you could taste the beer he had with dinner earlier tonight. You want more of him. You wanted every part of him. His touch had heat pooling in your core. The smell of his cologne only entranced you more. You were headed down a path that you couldn’t turn back from. You weren’t sure you even wanted to.

 “Jensen,” you breathed out, pulling away just slightly, trying to catch your breath.

 “Too much?” he whispered.

 “No,” you shook your head. For a moment, you paused, not sure if this was something he was okay with. You wanted his touch, and you craved it. You didn’t know if it was okay the other way around.

 You released him from your hold. Your hands making their way to your jacket, quickly peeling it off. Jensen stood there, his eyes locked on your every move. In a moment of confidence, you tore your t-shirt over your head, dropping it to the floor. That confidence quickly fell away when you realized he had probably dated models, and seen so many beautiful women that were so much nicer to look at compared to you. God, what the -

 “You’re so damn beautiful, sweetheart,” he said softly. Just like that, one damn word and you were melting into again. He shrugged off his flannel shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He took the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing his torso inch by inch. His stomach was soft, just like it was fifteen years ago, only now, he had grown into himself. He had a tiny trail of hairs leading down into his jeans, making you smile. He was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

 “Jensen,” you whispered, “you’re so handsome.”

 “I’m glad you think so,” he said with a nervous smile.

 “I do,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, reaching for the button on your jeans. His hand came up to yours, halting your movements.

 “Is this - are you sure?” he furrowed his brows.

 “For old times sake,” you winked. “Unless you don’t want to.”

 “Fuck,” he smiled, looking down. “For old times sake.”

 You continued to undo your pants while he worked on his own. This was definitely happening and you were more than okay with it. You felt that desire building inside you, and you needed to satisfy the itch. You needed him for so many reasons. He stood there in his black boxers. The outline of his cock making an appearance. He looked bigger now than he was back then.

  You stood there in your bra and panties, unable to take your eyes off of him. You could feel yourself dripping in your panties. God, you wanted him. You wanted to feel his length inside you again. You wanted to hear him come undone to you touch.

 “Do we need-”

 “I’m on the pill,” you told him, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra, letting one of the last articles of clothing fall to the floor. Jensen’s eyes never left your body.  You watched as his eyes darkened at the sight of you. His hands reaching for your body for the first time. You melted into his touch, letting your nerves simmer down.

  “So perfect,” he muttered under his breath. “I can’t keep my hands off you, and quite frankly, I don’t want to.” Your nipples hardened at the coolness of the air.

 You turned in his hold, facing him. His eyes roamed over your body, his bottom lip coming between his teeth. He had such an effect on you and quite frankly you couldn’t get enough now that you had started.

 You motioned for him to get on your bed and he did so quickly. You straddled his hips, your centre lining up with the bulge in his boxers. A tiny wave of pleasure coursed through you as you did. Your lips were on his in an instant, your tongue dancing with his. His hands held you tightly against him.

 Your heart was soaring in your chest as you kissed him. Your hands traced over every inch of exposed skin like it was the first time. You loved the way he felt beneath you. You loved the way you felt in his hold. It was calming, and warm. Jensen made you feel safe and there was no one in the world you could say made you feel that way and you were slowly starting to realize that.

 “Hmm Y/N,” he breathed out. You ground your hips against his, eliciting a groan from his lips. “I’ve gotta have you.”

 “Have me,” you muttered.

 “Yeah?”

 “I like this,” he mumbled.

 “You want me on top of you?” You played.

 “I want you anyway,” he growled.

   You climbed off of him, slipping your panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. His eyes hooded with lust and desire as he glanced over you. His smile was soft, and sincere as he did.

 You leaned down, dipping your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down his legs. His cock sprang free, hitting his stomach with a soft slap. You smirked, throwing one leg over his lap once more. You took his cock in your hand, lining him up with your entrance.

 You pressed your forehead to his, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, eyes that you never thought you’d get to look into again. Now he was staring into yours, trying to learn you all over again.

 You sank down on his length, slowly letting him fill you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. The first thrust was always the best. The feeling of being one; of being so damn close to one another. Jensen took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You saw how much they had darkened once he opened them. Your lips collided with his as he bottomed out inside you.

 His hands rested between your shoulder blades, pulling you in closer to him. You shifted, lifting your hips before sinking back down, creating a steady pace that worked for both of you. Jensen’s hands slipped down the length of your back, resting them on your ass to help you move on him.

 “Fuck Y/N,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

 “Jense,” you breathed out. You gripped his shoulders, bouncing a little faster on his dick. A thin layer of sweat began to bead along your skin.

 Jensen held you to him, shifting quickly. Your back hit the mattress. Jensen thrusted into you at a quickened pace. His entire weight was on top of you, adding to the pleasure he brought to you. His cock was dragging perfectly against your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer to your breaking point. You could hear the tiny cries that escaped passed his lips as he drove into you. Your nails scrapped down his back, trying to pull him in even closer to you.

 His lips attached to the spot beneath your ear as his thrusts slowed down to almost teasingly slow. You let out a moan as he sucked down softly. The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood up. He paid attention to you and what you liked. You carded your fingers through his hair, something you knew he liked.

 “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled into your neck.

 His thrusts picked up a little more. You could tell he was getting closer by the way he was breathing. His mouth was ajar, and his tongue just peaked passed his lips. He was fucking gorgeous before he came, and every other time really. But this was different. Not many people had seen this.

 “Jensen, I’m gonna-”

 “Go ahead,” he breathed out. “I’m right behind you.”

 “Come for me, Jense,” you urged him on, trying to keep up with his thrusts.

 Within a few thrusts, your walls were clenching around his cock, squeezing him as pleasure soared through you. Your body was shaking beneath him as you threw your head back against the mattress. Your fingers digging into his back once more. You couldn’t contain your moan, or any of the words that rolled off your tongue. He made you feel so damn good, and you didn’t want to hold back.

 Jensen wasn’t too far behind you. His thrusts became sloppy, and inconsistent. He tried to get as close to you as he could. His balls slapping against your ass. He came with a muffled cry of your name, spilling himself deep inside you. He slowed down, letting his orgasm run its course.

 He lay on top of you, trying to catch his breath. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, waiting for his breathing to even out. The second time was even better than the first and you were thankful it was. It was a nice moment between the two of you. Finally feeling him again like you had craved for years after you left.

 “Guess now I can cross have sex with an actor off my bucket list,” you breathed out with a chuckle.

 “Shut up,” he shook his head, grinning into your neck before shifting off of you. He withdrew himself from you, and you instantly felt the loss of him. He hopped off the bed, heading into the bathroom. Your eyes wandered down to his perky ass, watching as he walked away.

 He came back seconds later with a warm washcloth in his hand. He cleaned you up, just like he did the first time you did this together. You smiled at him. He was still that sweet boy you had known all those years ago.

 You made yourself comfortable on the bed, waiting for him to come back and join you. It was just after ten and you didn’t exactly want to leave at this time and make your way home by yourself. You didn’t know if you should stay the night.

 “At least this time I actually get to cuddle with you,” he chuckled. “You don’t have to sneak out the window to head home.”

 “Yeah, that was awesome,” you scoffed. “I wasn’t exactly expecting your brother to come home.”

 “Neither was I,” he shook his head. “C’mere.”

 You inched over to him, throwing your arm around his waist before intertwining your leg with his. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder before placing a kiss to the top of your head. You could feel yourself slowly unwinding from the day. You were up early to start your orders and didn’t stop until Jensen walked in just after you closed. You were exhausted.

 “You smell good,” he muttered, kissing your head once more.

 “So do you,” you yawned. “You also stink of sex.”

 “Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he said softly.

 Your eyes fluttered open to a dark room. The clock in the corner read four thirty six. You were in a hotel room. Shit, you were in Jensen’s hotel room. You glanced to the other side of the bed, finding Jensen laying there on his back. He was fast asleep.

 Guilt rushed through you. What were you doing here? Why were you still here with him? You knew you shouldn’t be. He was Jensen Ackles, an actor. He wasn’t your best friend anymore. He wasn’t that same small town boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago. He was a busy, hardworking man now. You were from two completely different worlds. He loved the idea of you and what your past was.

 You carefully slipped out of the bed, trying not to make any big movements that would wake him. You bent down, picking up each article of clothing, putting it back on. You were doing him a favour. You couldn’t be that girl he used to know. You couldn’t give up your dreams for a past dream.

 Tears pricked your eyes as you looked back at him. He was forever going to be the man you had fallen in love with. The one who treated you like a queen. You couldn’t be that for him now. He deserved better than that. He was simply confused and he saw you and thought of an easy way to get what he wanted.

 You tiptoed over to him, leaning over to him. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before turning to head out. You never expected it to hurt so bad, but it did. Jensen was your happy thought in a world full of misery for two whole years. He was the one thing that got through to you when you felt like giving up.

 You slipped out of the hotel room, quietly shutting the door behind you. As soon as you got to the elevators, the tears slipped down your cheeks. It hurt. God, did it hurt. But you were leaving on good terms. You were leaving after a night of reminiscing and soft touches. A night filled with the same passion you had all those years ago. You wanted it to go that way. You wanted him to remember that about you.

 You took a taxi back to the shop, trying to keep your tears at bay at that time. You must have looked like a crazy person to the older man. Eyes red and puffy heading to a bakery at nearly five in the morning.

 It was just starting to drizzle when you stepped out of the cab after paying for your fare. You had your keys ready in your hand, opening up the door to your shop. Your biggest accomplishment. Everything you had in the small little shop was created by you. You built this. You worked your ass off for this and the way you felt at this very moment - it was like it meant nothing.

 You walked into the back of the building, heading up the stairs to get to your apartment located right above the shop. The only way you could keep the costs low. You opened up your apartment door, stepping inside. The second the door shut, the tears kept coming. You were doing the right thing, you reminded yourself. You were doing what was for the best.

 Monday morning came quickly. For the first time, you didn’t want to get out of bed and start the day. You didn’t want to go to work and you didn’t want to bake something. You just wanted to take a break. You wanted to go back to three days ago when Jensen wasn’t a thought on your mind. When he was just a public figure on the internet.

 You threw on a blue t-shirt and a comfortable pair of black pants. You weren’t bothering with makeup today. You were going to bake and that was it. No customers today. Your sole focus was making cupcakes for a birthday party and a few pies for orders. You could finish by one and go back up to your bed.

 “Morning, Y/N,” Victoria smiled at you, handing you your morning coffee.

 “Morning,” you smiled at her, reaching for your drink.

 “Rough weekend?” she smiled knowingly.

 “You have no idea,” you chuckled dryly. “I know I look like ass. If you and Melanie could keep a handle on everything out front. I don’t exactly want to scare customers away with my grudge look today.”

 “You look as beautiful as always. You’re just too hard on yourself,” she smiled. “We can take care of things no problem.”

 “Thank you,” you gave her a warm smile.

 You pulled some of the already prepared cookie dough from the fridge, placing them on three trays to begin filling things up out front. You had your cupcake batter on the go and your buttercream already mixing in the kitchen aid. The smell was starting to fill the kitchen, making you feel more at ease. This is what you were good at. This is what you loved to do.

 You poured the chocolate batter into the cupcake holders, adding in a little extra to have bigger cupcakes. It was for a girls birthday party. The buttercream was sitting in the mixer. A nice neon pink colour that was going to go well with the dark chocolate cupcake.

 “Hey Y/N,” Melanie poked her head back. “Someone is here asking about the open position.”

 “Oh really?” your ears perked up. “Uh well, send them back here and we’ll take it from there.”

 “Okay,” she beamed, turning away.

 You grabbed your measuring cylinder, placing your piping bag into it so you could get your buttercream ready for when the cupcakes were done. The timer for the cookies went off at the same time. In the corner of your eye, you caught a figure, which had to be the one inquiring about the position.

 “I’ll be right with you. I just have a lot on the go,” you told them, grabbing your oven mitts to take the three trays out of the oven. You had a cooling rack next to your oven, perfect for placing lots of products when they were done. “You’re interested in a baking position?”

 “Yeah,” the deep voice said. You almost stopped what you were doing. You were definitely expecting a female voice. “I’m only available Saturdays, and the odd Fridays. Depending on when I get off my other job and when I can fly in.”

 You turned around, taking a deep breath. Jensen was standing there with his hands in his pockets. He was clearly nervous. He looked about as good as you did, if you were being honest. His eyes were tired.

 “Y-you’re not actually interested in the position are you?” you swallowed hard.

 “I am,” he nodded. “I can’t bake to save my life but I'm interested.”

 “Jensen-”

 “Why’d you leave?” he asked you. “I woke up and you were just gone. No sign you had even been there.”

 “I can’t, Jensen,” you sighed in defeat, moving over to one of the stools by your counter.

 “Why not?” he questioned, taking his hands out of his pockets. “I told you I still have feelings for you-”

 “That’s not enough and you know it,” you licked your bottom lip, your eyes casting down. “Feelings don’t make a relationship work, especially not one between two people that barely know each other anymore. I get that your best friend getting married striked something in you and seeing me didn’t help. But I can’t be that girl for you, Jensen. I can’t drop everything I’ve worked for and that’s why it would never work. You’re an actor who works in a different country. I work six days a week here. Timezones, distance, insecurities, doubts, guilt, and god knows what else will come between us. It doesn’t matter if I still love you or not.”

 “Do you?” he asked lowly. “Still love me?”

 “Of course I do. I never stopped, ” you admitted. “But it’s not enough.”

 “I’m not asking you to give this up for me,” he said to you, taking a step closer to you. “I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

 “This isn’t because of everything is it?” you dared to ask.

 “This is because I love you and I never stopped,” he stated. “I’ll fly down every weekend I don’t work to take a Saturday shift and spend Sundays with you.”

 “N-no,” you shook your head.

 “Y/N, are those cookies done by chance?” Melanie asked sheepishly. “Sorry, I know you’re in the midst-”

 “Yeah, you can take one. They are hot though,” you told her.  She snuck passed you with the empty tray in her hand. She moved quickly, placing eight of them in their places before sneaking back out. The tension was growing in the room.

 “Why not, Y/N?” he sighed in defeat.

 “I can’t be the girl you want me to be, Jensen. I can’t walk red carpets with you and be in the public eye like you are. I can’t be the girl I once was,” you sniffled.

 “And I’m not asking you to be,” he declared. “All I want is you. You and whatever comes with you. Whatever shit you’ve been through, whatever it is. I’ll take it as my own. I just know that I love you and I haven’t felt my heart beat the way it has with you in a really long fucking time.”

 “You could have anyone -”

 “All I want is you,” he repeated. “Long days, phone calls, weekend flights. I’ll do it if it means I can be with you.”

 “I work six days a week,” you reminded him.

 “I’ll work Saturday’s,” he stated. “You’ve already seen me work.”

 “I live in a one bedroom shoe box apartment above this store,” you shared.

 “Is that your attempt to get me to change my mind,” he chuckled, taking the stool in front of you. He placed his hands on your legs, looking at you. “Nothing you can say will change my mind. I looked for you for ten years, Y/N. Now that I found you again, I’m not losing you.”

 “I don’t have money to fly to you,” you argued.

 “Don’t care. I’ve got frequent flyer points,” he smiled. “Anything else?”

 “I think I’m done now,” you admitted with a half smile. “For now.”

 “So do I have the job?” he cocked his head to the side.

 “Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re on probation though.”

 “Is it because I can’t bake?” he let out a laugh.

 “Yes. One hundred percent.”

 “Thank you,” he smiled. “But do me a favour?”

 “Anything,” you looked up at him.

 “Don’t ever leave me in the middle of the night like that again,” he breathed out, leaning over. He pressed his lips to your cheek.

 “Promise,” you agreed. “I gotta work now, darlin’.”

 “Put me to work, sweetheart. I can fit in a couple of hours before my flight,” he winked. “I’ll be back Friday night for three days.”

 “Good,” you beamed, holding your hand out for him to take. You helped him off the stool and led him over to the counter. You handed him an apron so he wouldn’t get his shirt dirty.

 “Hey Y/N,” Victoria smiled as she walked back into your work area. “Did we hire this one?”

 “Yeah,” you nodded with a wide grin. “For now.”

 “Good,” she smiled. “It’s about time you let someone in. Glad it’s heart eyes.”

 “Heart eyes?” Jensen furrowed his brows.

 “You gave me heart eyes when you saw me Saturday afternoon,” you teased him.

 “Crazy heart eyes,” she pointed out. “Break her heart and I’ll break your face.”

 “Victoria,” you said, wide eyed.

 “I don’t care who he is,” she narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “I can take on Dean Winchester.”

 “There’s an idea,” you muttered under your breath, turning back to your table.

 “What was that, sweetheart?” Jensen smirked.

 “Nothing, darlin’.”

 “Yeah okay,” he chuckled, leaning over to you, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You smiled against him, finally allowing yourself to truly enjoy it for the first time. You really were childhood sweethearts. You only hoped that you became a couple that was destined to grow old together. Either way, you were glad you were entering this journey with Jensen by your side.

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

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your response keeps me writing! 

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Pretense

Here’s a one-shot fanfic from me, still on Legend of Korra.

- Lin/Tenzin, pre-LOK AU

- One-shot, completed

- Length: Approx 8.9k

Overview:

As far as the Earth Kingdom is concerned, Lin Beifong is in a relationship with the son of the Avatar.

No, not that one.

 ---

Lin could not believe that they managed to pull it off.

It has been a week since she arrived at Ba Sing Se. So far, it has gone well.

She towel-dried her hair as she moved around the room to get ready. The metalbender has just finished her shower right after coming home from training with the Dai Li.

Lin had always wanted to train with them. She felt that, aside from her mother, they would be a good source of learning different earthbending styles.

As expected, her grandmother Poppy was more than unwilling to have her train – for what good man would indeed wish to be with a brutish young lady like her. On the other hand, Toph Beifong was quite supportive but was hesitant on the grounds that it might hinder her progress with the police force.

Ever the people-pleaser as her pestering sister described her, Lin struggled to come to a solution that would hopefully meet all their concerns. By some fortunate coincidence, someone swooped in with a proposal, which she accepted after weighing the pros and cons.

Sliding into a long deep scarlet dress, Lin quickly pinned up her hair and applied lip stick.  It would simply not do for one of the ladies of the Noble House of Beifong to be seen unkempt.

This was the concession of her temporary move to Ba Sing Se: train with the Dai Li by day - attend society events at night.

It was enough to satisfy both her mother and grandmother. Toph hated these events expected from the current head of the Beifong family. Having Lin attend to it in her stead works for both of them - Toph gets to stay in Republic City and Lin gets to show her family (and the world) that she is highly capable in navigating these events. This way, no one need worry about the Beifongs not being recognized within the Earth Kingdom.

There was a knock at the door. Lin took one last look in the mirror and went to open it.

To add to her advantage, showing up with a date every time for these events keeps possible entanglements at bay.

“You look wonderful, Lin.”

After all, what better way to repel unwanted admirers than showing up at the arm of the Avatar’s son?

“Thanks, you look good too, Bumi.”

 ---

Tenzin unfolded the letter.

This was the address, he confirmed, standing in front of a tall nondescript gate, blocking the view and entrance to a residence in the Middle Ring in Ba Sing Se.

He rang the bell and waited.

The airbender shifted his bag from shoulder to shoulder, his robes billowing in the wind but interestingly not drawing attention from any passersby. He figured it was a good call to leave Oogi at the Air Temple and take a train to the Earth Kingdom instead, less commotion and less accommodations needed. He did not want to unnecessarily impose on others after all.

Tenzin was at the last leg of his travels and it happened to be a stop at the Earth Kingdom, specifically at Ba Sing Se University. Initially having thought that only minimal information documenting the Air Nomad culture survived the genocide, after the deposition of Ozai, more and more have contacted the Avatar to share artifacts and knowledge of the Air Nomads that they had hidden away during the war. Aang had eagerly responded to each of these letters and began to acquire these relics beholden to his culture. When Tenzin became of age and was to embark on his travels as a new airbending master, he sought to continue this practice and exploration. This is what brings him to Ba Sing Se University.

He had been writing to his mother to update her; telling of his plans to stop at the Earth Kingdom before going home to Air Temple Island. Katara had suggested to contact his brother who would be there for a diplomatic assignment. Tenzin was skeptical; he did not have a close relationship with his siblings after all. Nonetheless, to appease his mother, he did write to Bumi asking if he could stay for a couple of weeks with him. To his surprise, Bumi had responded in the affirmative.

“Coming!”

A voice answered the bell, a voice which was obviously not Bumi and was distinctly feminine.

The gate swung open, and Tenzin gaped.

“Hi Tenzin, you’re early!” Lin Beifong stood before him, clad in a gold qipao. For a moment Tenzin was not able to respond, focusing his attention on the curl at her neck that must have escaped the bun on top of her head.

“H-hello, Lin.”

She invited him in. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

We?

“I was able to catch the first train out and so cut a day from my travel time.” He managed to respond as Lin led him to the house.

“I see, we were going to fetch you.”

“So, is it really Tenzin?” A loud voice came from one of the inner rooms of the house.

The metalbender rolled her eyes. “Of course, has my seismic sense failed us yet?”

“One could hope not.” Bumi came into view, wearing a towel tied at his waist and nothing much else. “Tennyboy! Great to see you!” The military man clapped his hands then moved to embrace his brother tightly and lifting him up. “Welcome to Ba Sing Se.”

“Good to see you too, Bumi.” Tenzin gasped out, dropping his bags, and patting his older brother back.

From his peripheral view, he could see Lin watching them with amusement.

“I want to hear all about what you’re up to here, baby brother.” Bumi set Tenzin back on the ground, crossing his arms, unmindful of his still dripping hair from his shower.

Lin cleared her throat and both men turned to her. She simply raised an eyebrow.

“Ah right,” Bumi shrugged. “Lin and I were on our way out for a charity event, would you want to join us?”

“Um, thanks but no.” Tenzin thought it would be the height of poor manners to show up uninvited by the hosts to a formal dinner. “I’ll settle in first.” He gestured to his things.

“Maybe next time, then.” Suddenly aware of his semi-nakedness, Bumi quickly addressed Lin. “Lin, if you could show him to his room? I’ll finish getting ready.”

Lin inclined her head and beckoned Tenzin to follow her.

Tenzin, although bewildered, followed Lin as she showed him where everything was (pantry, kitchen, living room). He also noted the shiny red embroidery on Lin’s dress that crept from the shoulder (is that a dragon?) to the small of her back which then drew his attention to her –

“And here is your bedroom.” Lin pushed open one of the doors.

“Thanks.” He paused just in time not to crash into the woman in front of him.

“If there’s anything you need, well, just let Bumi know.”

And, with a curt nod, Lin left Tenzin to settle in and wonder what he just got into.

 ---

Tenzin heard the front door open hours later as he sat at the living room, having a cup of tea while going over his notes.

“That was tough.” Bumi’s deep timbre echoed in the silent house.

Both he and Lin came into Tenzin’s view as they entered. Lin removed her heels and all but collapsed at the couch. “Remind me to decline any event that comes right after physical training sessions.”

“I did remind you,” Bumi slid down beside her, nodding at Tenzin to acknowledge his presence. “And you said, and I quote – ‘it’s just a short event, how bad can it be?’”

Lin covered her face with hands and groaned. “I underestimated the amount of networking that they expected during a charity event.”

Bumi laughed good-naturedly, patting Lin’s back. “Hey, Ten – how was your afternoon?”

“Good, good. I managed to unpack everything. All set for tomorrow.” Tenzin waved a sheaf of papers.

The non-bender looked between the metalbender who was slumped on the couch, eyes closed, and the airbender at his other side, clearly up for a long night of paperwork. An idea came to him. “I know, let’s all go out and have a late dinner and some drinks to welcome to you to Ba Sing Se.” He placed an arm over his brother’s shoulder. “What do you say?”

Tenzin grimaced a bit, having travelled conventionally without his sky bison was tiring. “Thanks for the offer but I’d rather stay in and get some rest.”

Bumi nudged Lin, who gave him a baleful glare. “Okay, no.” He laughed and got up, checking his pockets to make sure he has enough money. “I’ll just get us some take-out and we’ll eat in then.”

“That’s the first time you made sense tonight.” Lin grumbled.

With promises of a well-balanced meal for them of both vegetables, meat, and booze, Bumi loped off.

Lin remained in the couch, sighing as she stretched her legs and then tucked them to herself.

Tenzin adjusted his glasses and surreptitiously observed Lin as he went through his research notes.

He always had a soft spot for this childhood friend. They spent most of their toddler years and early childhood with one another, but Lin (and eventually Su) had been shuttled back and forth from Gaoling and Republic City. This was highly dependent on the Beifong grandparents as well as Toph’s schedule (and how dangerous her cases were). Meanwhile, his education has turned to focusing on Air Nomad culture. Their days intersected less and less as time passed by.

Their friendship dwindled, and they were not as close as they could have been.

Truth be told, as he watched Lin stretch once more then pad over to the kitchen with familiarity, he did not even know what she had been up to recently. He had some inkling to it (mostly relating to the police academy) but he did not expect her to be in Ba Sing Se. And most especially not around in Bumi’s UF provided residence.

He did harbor crush on the earthbender in their adolescence; surely at least Bumi knew about it, if his subsequent teasing during his visits to Air Temple Island were any proof.

Tenzin shook his head.

That was then and this was now; he had grown up and something as silly as a childhood crush was soon forgotten.

At least, that was what he kept telling himself as Lin came back to the living room, placing her own cup of tea on the table then disappearing to Bumi’s bedroom, claiming to retrieve a book she had been reading earlier.

Yes, it was all forgotten, Tenzin convinced himself even as he felt a pit form at his stomach.

 ---

The next time that Lin was over, Tenzin was lugging with him a large book bag filled with loaned books from the university library. After a couple of visits, he felt that the scrutiny from some of the staff and students made him uncomfortable. There was no denying who he was, with his tattoos brightly announcing to the world his mastery of a long thought to be dead element.

The fawning and the preferential treatment were a little less bad than how the air acolytes had regarded him. That was not conducive to his productivity and so he decided to bring home as much relevant material as he could instead and work from there.

He had only managed to spread out all the books and was in the process of cataloging the references when Lin burst into the house.

“Is Bumi home?” Lin appeared have rushed over, and Tenzin appreciated the flush on her cheeks and neck exposed by the tank top she wore.

Tenzin made a noise and pointed to Bumi’s bedroom and was responded to by a hasty thanks.

 ---

“You said you had news?” Lin asked without preamble upon entering the bedroom.

“Spirits, Linny!” Bumi shouted, pretending to cover himself up with his blanket when he was obviously doing some mending of his clothes. “What if I had been indecent?”

Lin simply snorted. “I’ve seen you in worse conditions.” She was no doubt pertaining to the time he had gotten drunk, and she had to bail him out.  “So, what is this about?” She sat at the edge of the bed, mindful of the sewing basket.

“Eh,” Bumi shrugged unconcerned but grinning. He tossed her an opened letter. “See for yourself.”

Skimming through the letter, a grin formed on Lin’s face as well. “Bumi! This is great!”

Prior to his assignment in Ba Sing Se, Bumi was short-listed for the next round of promotions. While tried and tested in the field, Bumi’s skills in diplomacy were yet to be proven. This latest assignment was a chance to prove just that.

And as in everything in his life, Bumi had to work doubly hard to prove himself. He had been a month in Ba Sing Se, attending meetings in the Royal Court, with the legislature and the kingdom’s security. He felt that he was not making a lot of leeway into reaching the accord that the United Forces needed with the Earth Kingdom. Their queen, Hou-Ting, had recently ascended to the throne and was distrustful of anything linked to the United Republic.

He had taken a couple of days off to visit his mother to take a breather and maybe a change in the scenery would give him more ideas how to approach the dilemma. He was going to sneak into the kitchen for a late breakfast when he overheard a conversation between his mother and Toph Beifong – which ended up with him seeking Lin to discuss a mutually-benefitting proposal…

This brings them to this moment where one of Bumi’s superiors had sent a missive on how one of the Earth Kingdom nobles had revisited his stance on the agreement between the United Republic and the Earth Kingdom. Included in the letter as well as a congratulatory note to continue whatever tactic he has employed as the results were in their favor. It was a simple introduction into the right company, an assistance that came in the form of Lady Lin of the Noble House of Beifong, who knew the Who’s Who in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se and the influential nobility in the Earth Kingdom.

“We should celebrate these little wins.” Lin handed the letter back. From her end, she will know if her presence in the upper-class of the Earth Kingdom has made any impact once she hears from her grandmother (who in turn, would have learned from one of her contemporaries living in Ba Sing Se).

“I don’t see why not.” Bumi merely tossed his mending into his sewing basket.

Grasping Lin’s arm and eagerly bringing her to the living room, he called out to his serious brother. “Tenzin! Get up, man – we’re going out to celebrate!”

 ---

Tenzin looked up to his beaming brother and Lin who was blushing from Bumi’s arm.

He wanted to decline joining them, fearing an outing of being the third wheel to the couple. At the same time, it had been a long time since he had spent time with Lin (and Bumi for that matter). Additionally, for some reason, that he did not want to dwell on right now, he did not want to leave the couple alone to their own devices.

Seeing Lin’s smile and Tenzin knew his decision was made for him.

 It was not too bad, not really.

Lin and Bumi had tossed banter, speaking of nobles and politics that flew over Tenzin’s head. He did not bother to clarify, thinking that it must be some sort of inside joke between the two. Or something confidential related to their fields of work.

They selected a small food court still in the Middle Ring, which catered to the varied crowd with different cuisines. Bumi ordered mounds of varied barbecued meats and sauces.

Tenzin noticed that Bumi did not order anything for Lin and Lin was left perusing the menu on her own.

The waiter stood patiently; pen poised over his notepad ready for their order.

“I’ll have the green mango salad please.”

“The green mango salad for me.”

Bumi looked at them with amusement. “Seems like you’ve finally found someone who enjoys shrimp paste as much as you do, Lin.”

Lin simply pursed her lips and went on to order another entrée on top of the salad (squid ink noodles) and a glass of cold tea.

Tenzin added an order of seaweed noodles for himself.

Once their orders arrived and they have dug in, Lin and Tenzin continued to rib Bumi for not having green mango salad, which in this case, included a healthy dollop of shrimp paste.

“I’m telling you, Bumi, this salad is good.” Tenzin insisted, taking in several bites of the salad. “You can’t know until you try it.”

“No, thank you.” Bumi grimaced with slight disgust. “It stinks high heaven.”

“I find it a good deterrent on a first date,” Lin happily mixed the shrimp paste into the leafy vegetables and sliced mangoes. “Makes it easier for me to weed out those with unscrupulous intentions.”

“Seriously, Lin – unscrupulous? You’re the only other person aside from Tennyboy here who uses words with more than three syllables.” Bumi evaded a slice of mango that the earthbender tossed him. “Well, there you have it Tenzin, if you do find that unique lady who would share this horrific salad with you – you could be rest assured that she’s not after your good name, your esteem or a good time that night.”

Lin chortled. “I doubt anyone who was looking to hooking up will even order it in the first place.”

“Imagine the stink during foreplay…” Bumi waggled his eyebrows and was rewarded with a slap upside his head from the earthbender.

Tenzin thought that he would not mind sharing a salad with Lin while on a date.

As Lin reached out her chopsticks to snatch a piece of meat from Bumi’s plate, which Bumi subsequently tapped away lightly, the airbender sneaked two pieces of meat from Bumi to Lin’s plate when his brother was preoccupied.

This was the Lin that he knew, in a plain tank top and loose pants. Not the Gaoling heiress made up with a fancy bun and a tight dress. While she did look beautiful in her formal attire, Tenzin thought that she was especially radiant tonight in her natural state.

The grateful grin that Lin gave him was enough to remind him that maybe his little crush was not all gone.

 ---

Later that night, after Lin went home, Tenzin made a mistake of hovering in the kitchen as Bumi put away some of their leftovers.

“Something’s bothering you.”

“N-no.” Tenzin stammered out.

“You’re making that face.” Bumi waved a hand in front of Tenzin’s face.

“This is my face, that’s all.” Tenzin knew the non-bender could be stubborn and will not budge unless he gave in. “Fine.” He sighed. “Seriously, Bumi – Lin? She – she’s not even your type.”

“So, I have a type, eh?” Bumi stood up to his full height, sending a critical look at the younger man.

“You know what I mean.” Tenzin crossed his arms. He sought to phrase his thoughts in a way that will not insult either Lin or his brother. “You take her on dates, and she doesn’t seem like the usual girls you go out with.”

A flash of something crossed Bumi’s face and a knowing smile formed. “I don’t see how that’s a problem. Think about it Ten, Lin Beifong has brains, beauty, and brawn – the complete package. Anyone should think that she’s their type.” He flexed his arms, giving his brother mischievous wink. “Now, she’s got Bumi too.”

The sinking feeling that Tenzin felt since the start of the night grew heavier as he watched his brother gleefully say his good night and left him to his thoughts in the kitchen.

What was he thinking? Reviving feelings over his brother’s girlfriend? That just was not gentlemanly to do nor was it right.

 ---

As much as Tenzin wanted to avoid Lin, he found that it was near impossible with the frequency of Lin dropping by or Bumi coming home with Lin.

The couple would also be very considerate and would often invite him to join them at their formal events. To date, Tenzin had not accepted any of their invites yet.

It was also hard to ignore the earthbender as Lin would usually be the one to initial conversation, usually by poking through his notes and the materials sprawled on the coffee table. If there was anything that Tenzin could talk about all day, it was anything and everything to do with the Air Nation and their nomadic culture.

Lin’s sincere interest in the topics similarly encouraged him to open up to her.

And, hopefully, dare he wished, her to him.

 ---

Finding more in common with him with their esoteric food tastes compared to Bumi, Lin had taken to bringing some packed food from the food court from time to time.

In one of their conversations, she admitted to Tenzin that while she did enjoy eating out with Bumi, the soirees that they go to tend to serve the usual Earth Kingdom Upper Ring fare and it tends to get a little bit redundant after some time. While she would love to sample more of the dishes in the multi-cultural food court, most of the orders were good for sharing. And, after an ill-advised selection with Bumi (which ended up with the man looking green the entire night, to be fair Bumi was a champ and had not complained all night and had valiantly finished their food), Lin did not have the courage to order more with the non-bender.

To her delight, Tenzin offered to do these taste tests with her. Unfortunately, the schedules that they both adhere to had prevented any outings like the night that they all went out with Bumi.

Lin came up with a solution and would stop by the stalls and the food court to order a dish or two to try. Then, over their paperwork (Lin had taken to bringing over her own paperwork to go through at Bumi’s house), the two of them would share this meal, pretending to review the dishes with posh and snooty language they read in the lifestyle section of the Ba Sing Se gazette.

Lin found herself looking forward more and more to these nights, a reprieve from the arduous Dai Li training and highly decorous hobnobbing with the Upper Ring.

Tenzin’s calming presence and dry wit kept Lin interested to spend more time with the airbender. It was as though they were picking up back from their previously close relationship.

Don’t get her wrong, she also enjoyed the company that Bumi provided when they go out on their dates. He was a good conversationalist and he helped her deftly navigate through the upper echelon of the Earth Kingdom society. Bumi is a good older brother who shared her experience in a similar industry, someone to talk to in terms of career and the practicalities of life.

Tenzin on the other hand…

Lin tilted her head in consideration while the airbender absentmindedly tapped his pen to his chin, a mannerism that she now recognized.

The airbender made her feel heard and seen.

She made a face and turned to face her own papers.

Put it like that makes it sound so sappy and un-Lin-like.

And yet, it felt right.

 ---

Tenzin had finished his research an hour or so ago.

He was now vacillating between going to bed early and leaving a few books on the table, in the illogical hope that maybe when Lin drops by later with Bumi she will be intrigued enough to stay for a chat. It sounded so stupid.

A beat.

He wants that.

He looked at the clock. Lin and Bumi will not be back for a few more hours.

While he was contemplating this conundrum that he placed himself in, the door opened and in limped Bumi, an arm over Lin’s shoulder.

Tenzin immediately stood up to take Bumi’s other arm to assist. “What happened?” He peered at his brother.

“Genius here decided that he was strong enough to -.” Lin had started to respond but Bumi swiftly twisted to cover her mouth with his hand.

“It’s not important how I got injured- just that I did.” Bumi interrupted as he held Lin’s gaze.

The unspoken communication between the two was too much for Tenzin and was about to leave the couple alone when Lin rolled her eyes and mumbled her agreement.

Bumi placed his arm again on his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s hop to it, Ten-Lin.” He ordered imperiously, nodding towards his bedroom.

“Of course, my liege.” Lin muttered, snark and sarcasm dripping from her words as they assisted the non-bender.

With a bit of maneuvering, Tenzin and Lin were able to place Bumi on his bed. Tenzin then noticed the glint of metal at his brother’s foot.

“Do you need any more help?” He directed his question to Lin rather than his brother who seemed to be smiling loopily at them.

“Ooooh Ten-Lin,” Bumi called out in an odd singsong voice then patted the bed beside him. “Care to have a heart-to-heart with Papa Boomboom here?”

Papa Boomboom?

“I’m good.” Lin shook her head, pulling at Bumi’s shoes and tapping the metal brace that she appeared to have created. “The healer on site was able to give him first aid and painkillers. He’ll be out in no time.” She was resolutely ignoring Bumi’s waggling eyebrows.

Tenzin inched out and quietly closed the door behind him, not wanting to find out what Papa Boomboom was up to, similarly disregarding Bumi calling out “Ten-Lin! Ten-Lin!” as he left.

 By the time Lin got out of the bedroom, the airbender was back in his spot in the living room, nursing a warm cup of genmaicha. His things were now in a neat pile on the coffee table. His hope of a conversation with Lin that he had initially looked forward to now a thing of the past. With his brother in semi-lucidity and injured to boot, no doubt Lin would be spending her visit (or even staying over) at Bumi’s bedside.

It was to Tenzin’s astonishment when Lin plopped beside him at her spot on the couch a couple of minutes later.

“Do you still have some of that?”

He blinked before realizing that Lin was pertaining to the genmaicha. “Ah yes, there’s more in the pot in the kitchen – let me get it for you.” He added belatedly, something warm curling within him at Lin’s soft smile as she thanked him.

The airbender got up to get the teapot while the earthbender proceeded to remove her shoes.

Lin was flexing then curling and uncurling her toes when he got back.

“Why do you even wear those shoes if they’re so uncomfortable?” He could not help but ask as he set the tea tray down on the table.

“It goes with the dress.” Lin nonchalantly stated as she shifted in her seat. She tucked both of her legs to her side at the couch and Tenzin had to concentrate on pouring her tea as her green silk skirt hiked a bit.

 They sipped their tea in comfortable silence for a few moments.

As always, Lin was the one who broke the quiet. “Aren’t you going to ask about Bumi?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure if I want to know what happened but I’ll bite – how is he?”

“He’ll be fine tomorrow,” Lin scoffed. “I’ve removed the brace. Nothing else bruised except for his ego. Not going to give everything away but he injured himself because of a dance move.”

Tenzin was mid-sip and had choked on the tea.

“Easy there,” Lin moved to rub Tenzin’s back in circles, in an attempt to help him.

Unknown to her, it only heightened his embarrassment and the soothing movements only contributed to his discomfort.

“Dance move?” He eventually garbled out, having regained his composure.

Lin’s lips quirked up. “Yes, don’t go teasing him on it yet though. Keep that in your back pocket. You’ll never know when you might need it.” She removed her hand on his back and Tenzin felt its absence acutely. She reached for the pot on the table to refill her own cup. She then caught sight of the title of the topmost book that Tenzin had.

As Tenzin had hoped earlier, the earthbender brought their attention to the book and asked about his progress in his research on the instruments of the Air Nomads.

 Eventually the pot has been refilled and emptied, their cups left cold as their conversation suitably engaged them until the late hours of the night.

“Wouldn’t that be grand though,” Tenzin had expressed. “If we were able to have enough artifacts to host in a museum. I mean, Dad was able to transport the ancient airbending gates to Air Temple Island. It would be great if we’ll find something more to add.”

Lin, who, by now, did not care that her skirt was wrinkled and was now hugging a throw pillow to her chest, observed. “You really enjoy what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“Bits and pieces of it,” He picked at the frayed edges of his notes. “The thing I hate the most about being the Avatar’s airbending son is the travelling.”

“Oh?” The tone was non-judgmental but curious.

“I know it sounds terribly ungrateful.” Tenzin fidgeted. “But I really disliked moving from one temple to the other. I’m not made for this nomadic lifestyle. I sometimes think that being an airbender was wasted on me.” He had never spoken of this to anyone, not even his mother. “I would have been utterly contented spending my days at Republic City or at Air Temple Island even.”

He expected a rebuke or a scathing remark on him being an ingrate (Agni knows how some senior acolytes had spoken behind his back whenever he deviated from Air Nomad culture).

“What would you rather do if this wasn’t expected of you?” Lin’s gentle query and earnest expression was a balm to his anxious soul.

“Maybe a teacher or a scribe.” There was something about Lin that was drawing him in, making him want to be honest as possible. “Nothing fancy, nothing worth writing home about.”

“You’d be a good teacher,” She considered. “You’re very patient and very much willing to impart whatever knowledge you have.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, Lin’s intense grey gaze on him. “How about you? What if… you weren’t born a Beifong?”

He could see the hesitation. “Can you keep a secret?” Lin whispered, inching towards him after a few moments.

Tenzin could only nod. At this point, he will probably do anything for her.

She curled her finger at him, beckoning him closer, close enough to whisper in his ear. “I wanted to be a dancer.”

“I could see it.” There had always been something graceful with how Lin used to manipulate her metal cables. Where her mother was firmly stuck to the ground with rough movements, Lin seemed to be lighter on her feet with more fluid motions. He has not seen Lin metalbend recently; he could only imagine the difference a couple of years training would make on improving her bending.

“Really?” The surprise was apparent on her face.

Tenzin idly wondered if she, like him, thought that their dreams were ridiculous considering the heaviness of the mantle that were their parents’ legacies.

“Why not? I think you’d be good at it.” On a whim, maybe it was the lateness of the hour, the cathartic feeling of telling someone of his dream and insecurities, Tenzin let the words escape before he could even filter them. “Dance with me.” He stood up and extended a hand to the earthbender who was still curled up on the couch.

“What?” Lin’s eyes widened slightly (is that a faint blush he sees on her cheeks?).

“Dance with me.” He repeated.

“But there’s no music.” Despite saying that, she held his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tenzin positioned themselves closer, he was sure it was not an airbending dance position but something he saw on a visit to the Fire Nation. “It’s just you and me now.”

After few false starts, both got into a steady rhythm with Tenzin leading.

As Lin grew more relaxed in his arms, Tenzin knew he would take what he could now. He felt like he was just doused with cold water with the epiphany he had. He was just fooling himself. His crush was not over, far from it.

His feelings were stronger than ever.

His eyes landed on Bumi’s bedroom door.

His feelings which should remain hidden as they were towards his brother’s girlfriend. His feelings which he will never act on.

It never did cross his mind to wonder why the woman was still there in the house, spending time with him willingly hours after her supposed boyfriend had turned in for the night.

 ---

“Nobleman with a distasteful mustache at three o'clock, Lin.” Bumi whispered at her side, clutching her elbow as they weaved through the crowd.

Lin stood ramrod straight. “That’s the nephew of one of Grandma's friends.”

It was at situations like this that she valued Bumi's presence at her side. Nonetheless, they made sure to act in accordance with proprietary.

She overheard several matrons saying that it was a pity that Lady Beifong appeared to be spoken for; their son/grandson/nephew would have been perfect for her.

However, in all the soirees and events that they have been attending, no one had outright asked them the status of their relationship. Lin was not about to disabuse them of their assumptions as no one was brave enough to confirm anything with her.

This at least left her to freely engage in conversation without fear of misconstrued intentions. This also allowed Bumi to be included in these discussions where he would expertly drop opinions or statements that may influence their thinking in relation to the United Forces or the current political climate.

No one thought twice of the presence of the non-bending son of the Avatar – If the Beifongs approved of this military son of a pacifist, then he was good enough to mingle among the Earth Kingdom elite.

As the two of them navigated their way to the buffet table, Bumi casually asked. “When this is over, aren’t you worried about them vultures descending upon you? Or Republic City gossip rags?”

Lin hummed as she perused the selection. “No, not really. We’re far away from Republic City and this is very exclusive society is not about to dish out to anyone outside of their circle. That’s what keeps them in power.” She picked up a piece of bruschetta. “And besides, maybe I’ll ask Mom to send Su here in the next season – find herself a good husband or something.”

“Lin, she’s barely twenty.” Bumi commented, eyes twinkling in amusement.

The earthbender merely shrugged.

“And, what about you?” He prodded her side as they sat back at their table. “Any romantic entanglements you see in the horizon?” It was to Bumi’s credit that he detected the barely noticeable tightening of her jaw and widening of eyes. “So, there is someone!” He announced gleefully, turning a few heads their way.

“No, there isn’t.” Lin grumbled, stabbing a fork into the plateful of food that she had taken.

“Playing dumb with me never worked, Lin Beifong, even when we were children.”

Lin hated how Bumi was able to read her easily; their equally matched observational skills honed by their respective careers.

“Don’t think I didn’t see it coming or that I did not see it happening.”

She resolutely brushed him off and focused on her plate.

“What are you going to do about it?” Where Lin might be stubborn, Bumi was downright obstinate and pushy.

“There’s nothing I should do anything about.”

Bumi glanced at her pensively over the glass he was sipping from. “Maybe you’re right – you shouldn’t have to do anything.”

“Oh Bumi, you’re reading too much into this. It doesn’t mean anything,” She turned away. “Besides, he probably has some sweetheart waiting for him at one of the temples. We’re just friends.”

It doesn’t mean anything.

We’re just friends.

 At least, that was what Lin told herself even as she once again found herself sitting at Bumi’s living room that night long after Bumi had gone to bed.

 ---

“What did that piece of paper do to offend you?”

Tenzin paused the incessant pen tapping that he had been unconsciously doing as the notice he received was pulled from under the pen. He twiddled with his fingers while Lin read the document. “I got an offer from the university to hold a series of lectures in the coming days.”

Lin congratulated him on the offer. “What are you displeased about then? Surely it’s not about the lack of topics that you’ll discuss.” She raised an eyebrow at the stack of folders on the table, each labelled with meticulous care.

“No, it’s not that.” He waved it off. “I just – I don’t know if I can make it interesting enough for them.”

She handed him one of the folders. “Try me.”

“Come again?”

Lin leaned back in the couch, getting comfortable. “Practice with me, pretend I’m one of those bright-eyed students that you’ll be teaching.”

Yes, pretend.

Little did they know, both were pretending for each other’s sake long before they realized it.

 ---

“In all honesty, I envy Bumi and Kya.”

“You do?”

A nod. “They get to live their life the way they wanted it to be. There’s not a lot riding on their shoulders. Whatever they are doing now – they wanted it, they’re living the life that they want because they can.”

“Is that what you truly think?” The earthbender’s piercing stare held his gaze. He hoped that whatever she found conveyed his honesty. “Maybe you need to check in with them. They might see things differently.”

 ---

It was one of the rare weekends that Bumi, Lin, and Tenzin found themselves free from any engagement. They took this opportunity to head to dine at their usual food court.

While Bumi and Lin scouted for an empty table, Tenzin browsed the menu of one of the newly opened stalls.

“Master Tenzin?”

Tenzin turned to who called him and came face to face with a vaguely familiar woman.

“I’m Pema – from the lectures?” The student obviously expected that he would remember her.

“Ah yes,” Tenzin awkwardly responded because he did not really recall a lot from the sea of faces. “From yesterday’s morning session?”

The girl, Pema, beamed at him, nodding. “And the afternoon session from the day before, and the one session lecture the day before that.”

“Oh, so you managed to attend all of them?” There was mild interest in his tone now. Maybe he was able to get through the Ba Sing Se students. “Which topic interested you the most?”

Pema began to explain excitedly when Tenzin saw Lin wave at him from a few tables away.

“Say, are you eating alone?” At the very least, politeness made him invite the young woman.

“I-I-That is to say -no- I mean, yes.” Pema shifted her eyes.

“Would you like to join us?” At her nod, Tenzin motioned to have her follow him to their table.

Upon approaching, Tenzin saw that Lin and Bumi had already given their orders to the waiter.

At Lin’s raised eyebrow and Bumi’s curious look, Tenzin introduced Pema and said that she would be joining them today.

The waiter handed both a copy of the menu while Tenzin pulled the chair in front of Bumi for Pema to sit on.

“Ahh, Pema, is it?” Bumi placed an arm around the back of Lin’s chair. “Any idea what you would be getting?”

“I, um, not sure yet.” She hid behind the menu, brows furrowing.

Bumi grinned mischievously while catching his brother’s eye.

That can’t be good, Tenzin thought silently.

“Might I make a recommendation?” The non-bender leaned forward and at Pema’s nod, pointed on an item on the menu she was holding. “Tenzin loves this.” Bumi winced subtly that Tenzin could surmise was because Lin must have kicked him under the table.

“Oh, yes of course!” Was Pema’s immediate reaction and ordered.

Tenzin was surprised and ordered his food as well. When the waiter had taken all their orders and left, the airbender turned to the student. “You like the green mango salad?”

“Yes, I do – I enjoy it a lot.” Pema enthusiastically agreed.

“Even the shrimp paste?” Bumi asked innocently but sending a sly look at Lin, who steadfastly kept silent.

“Especially the shrimp paste. It gives it the texture and distinct salty taste.”

“Indeed.”

Tenzin finally caught Lin’s eye and there was an odd expression on her face that he could not explain.

Bumi proceeded to liven up the table with conversation and even make Pema feel at ease. It was one of the traits of his brother that Tenzin envied.

The rest of their meal went by uneventfully and they all got to know Pema a little bit more and her interest in the lectures from the past days. As Bumi did not draw attention to the unusually taciturn earthbender beside him, Tenzin did not attempt to draw her into conversation as well despite his confusion. Lin would commonly be a little bit more talkative during their small outings like this.

Maybe she had a bad day?

As the meal winded down, Tenzin thought he rather wanted to see more of Pema. At least, to not remain as a third wheel to the couple in front of him.

“So, we might have, uh, tea after dinner. Would you like to join us?”

Pema’s effusive acceptance became garbled to his ears as he detected the sudden screeching of the metal chair in front of him being pushed back.

“I’m sorry, I need to go.”

Both Bumi and Tenzin turned to Lin, who was only maintaining eye contact with her boyfriend.

“Oh right, your… report.” Bumi motioned to stand up as well. “Do you want me to bring you home?”

His brother’s unexpectedly gentle tone made Tenzin think if there is something else that he missed. A subtext that passed known only to the couple.

Lin tilted her head and smiled weakly. “No need, I can manage.”

Nonetheless, Bumi stood up, made their excuses to Tenzin and Pema.

Tenzin looked on as Lin allowed herself to be escorted by Bumi. The lie of having a report waiting for her tasting bitter in the airbender’s mouth.

But why?

“I suppose tea is out of question now.” Pema said shrewdly, moving to stand up as well when Bumi and Lin was out of their line of sight.

Maybe she was more perceptive than Tenzin gave her credit for.

If Pema thought that he was about to invite her elsewhere, she was mistaken, and Tenzin extended his hand to shake hers. “Pleased to meet you, Pema, thank you.” He paused and somewhat awkwardly added. “And good luck on your studies.”

Tenzin closed his eyes for a moment, a headache already forming.

He froze.

There on the table, beside Pema’s empty plate of what used to contain her order of skewers, was a full bowl of green mango salad, mixed but not a single bite taken out of it.

 ---

“You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s too young.”

He knew his older brother was right, but it stung to be called an idiot.

Ever since Lin urged him to talk to his siblings, Tenzin had consciously made time to connect to Bumi.

Along the way, he learned about how different their views of their childhood were. Bumi, on his part, was quite candid and the airbender appreciated that. More than once, Tenzin was tempted to evade some of their talks that were bordering on painful (cut-and-run much?). He felt that he owed it to his brother though to power through.

But tonight, there were emotions that were too raw to filter. If the couple just wanted some time together, they need not fabricate Lin having to work on a report. They need not pity him for being their third wheel.

“Lin is too young for you too and you don’t hear me berating you for it.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it, really?”

“Well, if you get your head out of your behind, maybe you’ll see what’s right in front of you.”

 ---

Letters swapped hands.

“Training’s almost done and as you can see there, Grandma has already received news from the grapevine about what an asset I am to the Beifong line.”

Bumi refolded the letter after reading. “I suppose your time in Ba Sing Se has come to an end then?”

“Only if you think you don’t need me anymore.” Lin paused and gave a short laugh, finding her phrasing funny. “I mean, if you think you don’t need help anymore with your assignment?” She leaned back, tapping the letter from Bumi’s superior in her hand.

“I should say mission accomplished to us both.” Bumi drew Lin into his arms. “Thank you.”

 It was most unfortunate that it was in this good-bye scene that the airbender arrived to.

 ---

The raindrops continue to fall, leaving staccato beats on the roof top.

The entirety of Ba Sing Se was coated in a haze that enveloped the typically green and brown place in a blueish gray hue.

The peaceful scene should have relaxed the airbender.

Tenzin sighed.

But it did not.

Not when he could hear characteristically feminine giggles from his brother's room.

He checked the clock, too early to have visitors over unless it were visitors who never left the night before.

His knuckles turned white, tightly grasping his mug.

As much as he felt that he should come clean to Bumi about his feelings for Lin (his girlfriend), his head was telling him not to. It would be another thing that Bumi might hold against him (on top of a lot of other childhood insecurities that their father inadvertently caused).

He just wants both Lin and Bumi to be happy. Even if it means hearing what they have been up to in the early hours of the day.

“Ah, Spirits what a turn out – it’s as though Tui and La decided to inundate the entire Earth Kingdom by flooding it.”

Tenzin’s head jerked up.

Lin Beifong was standing in the edge of their kitchen, hair dripping wet.

His mind was sluggish in realizing, shocked as it was to see the earthbender.

“Do you still have some of that?” Lin waggled her fingers towards Tenzin’s mug of genmaicha.

“Oh, yes – where are my manners –.” Tenzin tripped over his words and hastily poured her a cup. Then reaching over to the coat rack and draping his coat over her, he admonished her lightly. “What were you doing out in this deluge anyway? You’ll get sick!”

“Well, Bumi told me that you intend to leave in a few days’ time and as I was preparing for my trip back to Republic City, I thought that -.”

A door creaked open. “Lemme grab us a bite from the pantry; we need sustenance if we want to last all the way to noon.”

Damn.

“Oh.” Bumi stumbled into the room, completing their peculiar tableau of a dripping earthbender cloaked in red and yellow, a pale shock airbender standing at the edge of the room and a military man that, for whatever intent and purposes he may have, was wearing nothing.

Tenzin’s pale skin started to redden, comprehension dawning on him. “Oh – that’s all you have to say?” If Lin was here – then who was with Bumi the entire night/morning back in his bedroom?

The non-bender scratched his bum. “What did you want me to say?”

“Oh, for Spirits’ sake, Bumi cover yourself!” Lin averted her eyes. “I may not act like it the whole time, but I still am a lady!”

“Ah Beifong,” Bumi smiled devilishly, his hand moving from his head to his legs. “Come take a look at what you’re actually missing out on.”

Lin pointedly faced the ice box, her back to the naked man. “No way, I’m not missing on anything.”

“Come on, Linny!”

“No, Bumi.” Lin snorted a laugh then bent her head over her cup of genmaicha.

Tenzin felt like he was going to explode.

How dare Bumi disregard Lin Beifong just like that? Flaunting his floozy---

How dare Lin not call him out – it was beyond disrespectful!

What’s more: being in a relationship with Lin was something he personally wanted for himself - not because of his father, not because he is an airbender, but because he wanted this. To see Bumi taking her for granted was like a knife twisting in his chest.

“Get yourself some clothes before you catch a cold.”

“You dry yourself before you catch a cold.”

Why were they skirting over the obvious issue?

Tenzin let out a strangled sound.

“Something wrong, Tennyboy? Your vein is about to burst on your forehead.”

“Something wrong?” The airbender’s voice went a pitch higher. “Something. Wrong. You –.” He pointed aggressively at his brother. “Just spent the night with some,” He clenched and unclenched his fist as he tried to select the appropriate word. “Woman that is not your girlfriend!”

Lin’s eyes shot to Bumi’s. “You have a girlfriend?”

Bumi raised both hands. “Wait a minute, you know I don’t. This,” His shoulder gestured towards the bedroom. “Is a recent development and it’s just for fun, you know, and she definitely knows.”

“What!” Tenzin’s gasped out.

“Wait a minute,” Bumi snapped his fingers. “Lin, you didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me what?”

“Tell him what?” The earthbender scrunched her face thinking before it cleared as she seemed to have concluded something. “Oh. No. I didn’t – I didn’t think I had to –!”

Tenzin felt he was watching a ball go back and forth between the other two.

“You’re the one talking to him often.” Bumi crossed his arms.

“You’re the one living with him.” Lin pointed at the airbender.

“You’re the one in love with him!”

A stunned silence followed.

Surely… Bumi was mistaken?

 ---

Bumi ran a hand over his face. “I think you both have a lot to talk about.” Then, he grabbed the nearest food on the table (a loaf of sweet mung bread). “I’ll leave you both to it.” He waved the loaf then exited the kitchen.

Lin considered the tea in her cup, focusing as though it could lend her the fortitude for the upcoming conversation.

Tenzin sat on the chair opposite her, taking a sip from his own genmaicha. “Feel like explaining what that was?”

As an earthbender, Lin went into it head on. “Bumi and I are not – were not – in a relationship – we – I thought that was clear.” Then she proceeded to explain the arrangement that she had with his brother. “I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable with this.” She waved her hand uselessly.

Lin bit her lip anxiously. She blew on her cup, waiting for the airbender to process the information that was dumped on him.

 ---

Two things ran through his mind.

Firstly, Bumi and Lin are not (never were!) in a relationship.

That key revelation echoed, unlocking several objections that he had repeatedly told himself to tamp down his feelings for the earthbender.

Secondly, it did not escape his notice that Lin did not say anything to refute Bumi’s claim.

His heart beat loudly, feeling like it was up in his throat. Excitement and nervousness made it difficult for him to breath, ironic for an airbender.

“Lin,” Tenzin cleared his throat. “And what Bumi said,” He leaned forward to tilt her head up so he could look at her eyes. He gulped and took a deep breath. “Is it true?” He felt Lin pull back for a second before she slowly nodded.

Without a hint of hesitation, Tenzin stood up to gather Lin in his arms, feeling complete and contented, something alien to him, something he had not felt for the longest time.

“I take it you like me too?” A muffled voice at his chest murmured.

“More than.” Tenzin bent his head, putting his forehead against Lin’s, unmindful of how her wet clothes now clung to them both. “I love you too.” He then closed the gap between their lips.

They would have gone longer if Lin had not shuddered involuntarily. They separated slightly, arms still around each other.

“I’m sorry, I probably need to get dried.”

Tenzin peered down at Lin’s now translucent attire. “Better yet, let’s get you out of those wet clothes. That is – if you don’t have any objections to it?”

“None whatsoever.” Lin tiptoed, pressing her lips to him. “No boyfriend, no rumored beau…Care to help me out?”

“Gladly.”

[writingletterstothefire]

She Loves Me

Chapter 1

A/N: Hi guys. It’s been a minute. Here is the long awaited (by no one) She Loves Me AU. I’m putting chapter 1 out here in the hopes that people waiting for updates will spark some creativity in me again. I’m sorry it’s short. If you enjoy, let me know

Word Count: 1703

Warnings: not proof read.

The sun was blazing down on you as you scurried down the busy New York sidewalk. The summer had decided to be blazing hot this wonderful morning, and you had decided to be extraordinarily late for work. Well, perhaps ‘decided’ isn’t the right word— you’d overslept on account of staying up extra late to finish a letter to your Special Friend.

There was no shame in using a dating service, you knew that, yet for some reason the very thought of joining one was something that you had scoffed at for so many years. “I want to meet someone organically,” you’d complain to your friends, “those services are full of strangers who have the weirdest quirks.” To be fair, that had been true in your brief experience using a dating service in college. It was definitely an odd time, figuring out exactly what ‘watersports’ meant. Needless to say, it had taken one single date for you to decide to withdraw your application and swear off dating services.

But you were getting older. And men seemed to just get more and more picky, the older they got. So, when you stumbled across an advertisement in your Sunday newspaper for a matchmaking service called ‘Special Friends’, you jumped at the opportunity. The directions were simple; you filled out the survey in the paper, mailed it to the listed address, and then your answers were compared with other submissions to find the best match for you. Once you received your match, you were to write a letter to them introducing yourself and signing off under the title of ‘Special Friend’. The two of you were given a specific P.O. box to drop your letters off to, provided by the matchmaking service. The only real rules were that the letter had to be handwritten, and you were only allowed to give real names if both parties agreed on it.

Your Special Friend was a true kindred spirit. It had been six months of trading letters back and forth, and the two of you spoke about everything, from your childhoods to your favorite books, from dream destinations to worst fears. About three months into this correspondence, you knew that, whoever this Special Friend was, you loved them. You stayed up until all hours of the night writing draft after draft until you formed the perfect letter. Because of this, you were often late for work in the morning.

Late. That’s right. You were very late. You willed your feet to move you as fast as they possibly could, cursing yourself for choosing this morning to wear heels. Finally, you managed to burst through the door just minutes before opening, scurrying to the back to drop off your bag. You made a mental note to yourself to start carrying flats in your purse, in case of emergency.

You’d just finished touching up your makeup in the small staff room mirror, when you felt someone sidle up beside you. You didn’t have to turn your head to know who it was. The smug energy emanating from his every pore was enough to confirm your suspicions of who was next to you. Santiago Garcia. Your worst nightmare in human form.

“Can I help you with something, Mr. Garcia?” You didn’t even spare him a glance as you finger-combed your hair, which was now windswept from your impromptu jog.

“Not at all, Miss Y/L/N,” Santiago flashed you a smile that, in any other circumstance, would have been charming. You, however, knew that pure contempt lurked behind those pearly white teeth. “I was just marveling at the rare sight of you, here, on time!”

“And why would that be something to marvel at, Mr. Garcia?” you scowled.

“Well, simply because it’s never happened before!” Santiago leaned against the wall, charming smile morphing into the smirk that often adorned his chiseled face. “You know, Miss Y/L/N, you may want to stop frowning so adamantly. At your age, those frown lines tend to stick around.”

“At my age?!” you nearly shrieked at him. “Mr. Garcia, need I remind you that you are older than I am!”

His smirk only widened. “Yes, but you seem to forget that one of us is ageing with grace, Miss Y/L/N.”

Your scowl deepened, and you shoved past him, making your way to the front of the store. You never did understand why Santiago didn’t like you. From the first moment you stepped into the department store, it seemed like he was trying to usher you out. Sure, when he thought you were a customer, he was the most charming man you’d ever spoken to. But once he had realized that you were trying to apply for the new salesperson position, he wanted nothing to do with you. He had insisted that there were no positions available, but Frankie Morales, his friend and co-worker, was quick to usher you to the owner’s office. Mr. Bailey had been a hard man to charm, but when you made your first sale to a woman who was insistent that she was just browsing, he hired you on the spot. After all, you’d gotten her to buy not one, not two, but five jars of various creams and lotions. None of Mr. Bailey’s workers had ever managed to sell that much in one go, not even his prized Mr. Garcia.

Making your way to the front of the store, you said hello and gave a kiss on the cheek to Frankie and each of the Miller brothers, Will and Benny. All three of the boys were quick to welcome you, despite Santi being the unspoken leader of the pack. They quickly became your protective band of brothers, something you’d long wished for as a young child.

“Good morning Frankie! How’s Elisa doing this morning?” You asked Frankie, your tone surprisingly chipper after dealing with Santi in the staff room.

“Round as ever!” Frankie exclaimed, a wide grin on his face. “The doctors estimate that the baby will be here in about a month, and Mr. Bailey’s been so kind as to let me have a month off after the baby arrives. I know it’s going to take a toll on Elisa, and I want to be there for her as much as I can.”

Sometimes, Frankie just melted your heart. It was so plain to see how much he loved his wife and their incoming baby. Their little family was everything you wanted. You only hoped that one day someone would love you just as much as Frankie and Elisa loved each other.

It was beginning to seem as though your Special Friend was never going to reveal himself to you. You had offered to meet for dinner on a few occasions, and each time he insisted that he had prior appointments. You didn’t want to assume anything, of course, but you were getting worried. Surely he wouldn’t lie to you about having a prior engagement, would he? But then, if he was so eager to meet you, as he claimed to be, then why did he never offer an alternative date?

On your way home from work, you stopped at the P.O. box. Your Special Friend had forgotten— or, well, neglected, you supposed— to write you the past two days, but you were adamant about writing at least every other day. You knew how much the letters meant to you, and if they brought him even half as much joy, you wanted to be sure he got it. Perhaps, if you hadn’t been so caught up in your own head, you would have looked up and seen the figure walking away from the wall of P.O. boxes.

To your surprise and delight, there was a letter waiting for you in the box when you finally opened it. If you hadn’t been so excited to read it, perhaps you’d have noticed the flash of a coat turning the corner as they walked away from the wall of boxes.

You hurried to open the letter.

Dear Friend,

I am so sorry to have not been able to write these past few days. Work has been an absolute train wreck, what with the most irritating co-worker constantly fumbling about. Somehow, the boss claims it’s my fault. Could you believe it? My fault that my imbecile of a co-worker is incapable of doing the simplest task that doesn’t involve talking a mile per minute?

But enough about that mess. I am supposed to be apologizing to you, my dear, sweet friend.

I know that you have been wanting to meet me. I am so sorry that I haven’t been able to make any of our appointments. As I’ve told you before, I was once in the army. An experience in war is one that I don’t wish on anyone. It takes a toll on you, emotionally, mentally, and physically. Because of my experience, I’ve decided to counsel other veterans and help them through their traumatic memories. On the nights you had wished to meet me, I’d had previously arranged counseling sessions, as well as one doctors appointment, a check up to see how I am recovering after all of my surgeries that I’ve told you about.

All of this to say, dear friend, that I’ve cleared my schedule for the night of the 27th. If you are available, I would love to meet you at the Ambrosia Garden down on the corner of 12th Avenue. I’ve made a reservation for two under the name Elizabeth Bennett, after you expressed how much you loved Jane Austen’s ‘Pride & Prejudice’. If you show, I will be wearing a purple rose on my lapel. I will look for you, where you will be holding a copy of ‘Pride & Prejudice’, with a purple rose tucked between the pages.

I sincerely hope to see you on the 27the, dear friend. I’ve been longing to meet you since we first exchanged letters, so many months ago.

Sincerely,

Your Special Friend

You had to meet him. You would get to the Ambrosia Garden on the 27th, no matter the cost. You’d find out who your Special Friend was if it was the last thing you did.

[ntamain]

Is my (24F) neighbour (27F) into me or is she just being friendly? How do I know if she's gay?

another gay gem from the r/relationship reddit

Update:

Image ID under the cut, please let me know if I did it wrong!

[Image ID: four screenshots of a post from the relationship subreddit by tumblr user nta-main. The title reads “Is my (24F) neighbour (27F) into me or is she just being friendly? How do I know if she’s gay?”

The text reads “Update post is now locked, I cant believe so many people were interested in us!! Thank you again for your support, comments and messages.

Hi all, I can't believe I'm asking for advice from a bunch of strangers on the internet but I don't really have anyone I can talk to about this. Sorry for the incoming essay but I guess I need to give history. I bought my first house in September last year, It was an odd time but everything just fell into place. It's quite a small village and everyone is really friendly so I got to know my neighbours soon after moving in - yes, socially distanced. Then I met my over-the-road neighbour, let's call her Elle. I can't describe it but it's the first time I've ever met someone and been lost for words and my heart was racing and just thought "omg", y'know?? So after I blushed my way through a welcome to the village type convo we only saw each other for a wave and hello for a few days.

To help kinda settle in I had my dog (Bea) with me for the first few weeks. During this time there was a massive increase in dog thefts in a nearby town, not just from gardens but literally wrestled away from people. If I'd have been working (furloughed off and on since March) then I would've taken Bea back to mum's but since I was home with her all day she stayed. So the local police advised to not walk dogs alone but we go out twice a day, a 10k run in the morning and a few miles walk in the evening. So obvs this scares me, but at the same time she is honestly a pain in the arse and gets upset if she doesn't go for a run and needs to be tired out so I'm kind of stuck at this point. Then along comes Elle. She knocked on the door and offered to come with us as she'd seen Bea and me in the evenings and everything kind of spiralled from there. I told her about my morning runs but she didn't really bite so I thought nothing of it. Then a few days later I bumped into her on a run, so she started joining us on those too.

A few months later and we are spending more and more time together everyday. It has now progressed to a run early morning, afternoon coffee, dinner most evenings and then the evening walk. It just seemed to happen without me really noticing. I didn't read into things that much as I don't want to get my hopes up and ruin anything until another neighbour commented about how much time we spend together and how "it's nice to see you young gals getting on" and winked. She actually winked at me. I asked her what she meant but she just laughed and said "you know what I mean". So now I'm looking back on things and wondering if she could like me too?

Here's some reasons why she might like me:

I went running along the same route at the same time for nearly 2 weeks before I happened to run into her a few days after I told her this?

I make her a coffee every afternoon (Elle is WFH) and take it over in her fave mug. She says I make good coffee but I'm pretty sure I saw a fancy coffee machine the first time I went round (it's not there now?).

Elle carried on running and walking with me even after Bea went home. I told her she was going back to mum's and she said well "I'll have to make another excuse to join you" and then we just carried on everyday.

She has tried really hard to bond with Bea. Bea is a very anxious dog and is scared of everyone except me and mum. Elle bought special treats to give her everyday and has been so amazing with her and never tried to force anything. When I asked her she said "it's important to me that she likes me and is comfortable". Bea actually fell asleep between us on the sofa yesterday and It just makes my heart skip a beat guys.

She invited me to the zoom quiz she does with her friends every fortnight or so and they were all like "oh so this is who we've heard so much about "

We realised we had become each other's support bubble. Elle asked if I was meeting anyone else and I said no, she said she was glad she had me all to herself (!!)

We gave each other quite personal xmas presents. Like, it actually made me tear up it meant so much to me. And she bought stuff for Bea!!

Reasons why she might not like me:

All the reasons above, but that she's just doing them because she's a fucking great person and we're friends?

It might sound dumb but idk I need your help guys. She is the just the most incredible person I have ever met and I really really like her but if she isn't gay or doesn't feel the same I don't want to lose her friendship as she has become such a huge part of my life. I genuinely have no experience with these kind of things as I went to quite a strict all girls school, so it's not as if there were any relationships around me as a teen and then I went to a very small uni (8 of us on my course). I guess another reason is that I've struggled with anxiety and depression for the past 10 years, as well as my weight and working on my self confidence, but I can say that right now I am the happiest and healthiest (both mentally and physically) I have ever been. I've only just really become comfortable with the fact that I'm gay and I have never really told anyone in real life, but I don't think people would be too surprised lol. I don't have any close friends as no one stuck around when I was really struggling with my MH a few years ago so I can't discuss this with anyone irl.

So I need your advice : how do I find out if she is gay? And no, I don't have the confidence to just ask!! What if she says no and I ruin everything? She has never mentioned anything about past relationships and I'm pretty tactless so not sure how I could naturally slip it into the convo. Like, "hey tell me have you ever had a girlfriend? Do you want one now?" Lol. And how can I make a move without really making a move so I don't ruin things??

tl;dr : Don't know whether my neighbour is gay and into me or is just really friendly. How can I make a move without ruining our friendship?

Edit: Ok guys, thank you so so much for all your support and encouragement. You've all given me a lot to think about. I think I'm going to casually slip some gay stuff into conversation and see how she reacts. Then bring up the neighbours comment like some of you suggested, seeing as tho the neighbour was heavily implying that we're gay. I'll do it tonight otherwise I'll talk myself out of it again. I will post an update to let you know what happens (eek). If you never hear from me again assume it went badly and I am consoling myself with cake and watching brokeback mountain in floods of tears.

Hi reddit, yes it's me the useless lesbian. First off I want to thank you all for your support, encouragement and advice - and the undeserved awards! I never expected this many of you to take the time to comment and that so many of you were rooting for us.

So I had the plan to drop these gay hints into convo like you guys suggested but honestly it all went out the window. Elle was kinda stressed friday after a shitty work zoom and just needed to vent so it wasnt the right time to start anything. Though I guess I must have been a bit off thanks to spending all day overthinking things on here, as Elle turned up Saturday morning rambling about stressing me out and apologised (!!) for ruining dinner. Obvs I said "what are you talking about you can talk to me about anything", and she said "anything?" and I said "anything" back. And guys the tension was unreal, staring at each other and hoping our lesbian mind reading powers would kick in.

Then there was some loud noise like a car backfiring or something and the moment went. So I went to make coffee and then Elle asked me why I was a bit quiet the night before and I said something about overthinking stuff and she said "what stuff" and idk you guys I wasnt prepared to be put on the spot my casual gay pop culture references were useless in this moment. My mind just went completely blank and I forgot every single thing you guys suggested and my heart was pounding and I just blurted out you know I like you, right?.

...And then she kissed me. Kissed me. We straight up just snogged in the kitchen and it was fucking great. So...you were right. You were all fucking right. She's gay, she likes me and has been trying to drop hints for nearly 5 months. sigh

We were both just too scared to make a move or ruin anything. Turns out she's been burned by straight girls in the past, so she's pretty wary and was hoping I'd straight up say I'm a lesbian so she'd know for sure - maybe the I'm a lesbian wall hanging would've been a good idea after all? Her friends have been helping her drop hints, she showed me the group chat and guys their suggestions ranged from flirting more to just turning up in a trenchcoat and nothing else lol. Also, the winking neighbour has been making comments to her as well, so shout out to her for trying to make this happen too.

So no cake and cry watching brokeback mountain, just 5 months of dating to catch up on. As for worrying about how our current schedule could be more date like during lockdown, you were right it's kinda irrelevant when you've essentially been dating the whole time. Though we never made it to our morning run yesterday, in fact we didn't leave the house at all, ha.

Thank you guys for giving me hope, even if all your suggestions completely disappeared in the moment. Maybe I'll show her the post later and ask if any of the suggestions would have worked.

tl;dr: she's gay, into me and I'm an idiot”

End image ID]

[zhansww]

I decided to switch to an ask, hope that's okay. So one big reason why I commented in the first place because I thought of you as some crazy shipper, but after talking to you for a while I saw it's not really true. That was purely me being wrong and I apologise. I just went through your whole pinned post and a lot of it was stuff that I already expected and I still don't think I can change you mind but really, a lot of that stuff is things that friends could do. 1/?

Getting dinner together, giving somebody a necklace etc. friends can do that too. Some might even see it as an elaborate marketing strategy. You see it as romantic, because you want to. And most of the stuff, like posting something at a certain date or time of the day or changing song lyrics is just pure speculation. They might be coincidence. Some things might not even have anything to do with them together but something completely else. 2/? You say that you try to not see hints where there are none, but stuff like that, analyzing dates and looking for clues in what exact time of the day a certain thing was posted in sm is just that.You see those things as romance because you want to see them as such, not because they objectively are. That's exactly it, seeing things where there are none. 3/3

I said this more than once already but I am open to having my mind changed. If I didn't, I wouldn't ask for discussions in my pinned post. To have a proper discussion, though, both parties should 1) have the same amount of knowledge on the subject, 2) leave their emotions out of it and 3) be open to the possibility of being wrong. So again; I am open to having a rational discussion about this. If you aren’t, please let me know.

Getting dinner together, giving somebody a necklace etc. friends can do that too.

Of course they can. But do friends feel the need to be secretive about it? When it comes to their dates in June 2018 and December 2019, they spent the night together. Not to mention, they went out of their way to spend 520 - Lunar Valentine's Day - together. Would friends do that? Right after the date in Dec 2019, Yibo wore a pink hoodie to the airport, which as far as we know was the first time he wore pink of his own volition. In his interview with Cosmo two months later, he got asked "what's the first thing that comes to your mind when hearing the word romance?" and his reply was "pink pink". Cp fans think this means that gg was the one who gave him that hoodie since dd himself doesn't like pink. But even if he didn't receive it from gg, Yibo must have been in a romantic mood to be wearing pink - and that, after being with XZ, his “friend”. Regarding the necklace, if it was given by a friend, then why does Yibo constantly wear it yet hide it? To compare, he wears the necklace and ring Han-ge gave him at any event/recording and he wears those openly, too, the way you're supposed to wear jewelry, right? He wears the ox head necklace at events and also in private, in selfies, in between schedules, during rehearsals etc and he started hiding it, i.e. wearing it under his shirts, after fans started fighting about it. Surely, you know that Yibo is an honest/straightforward/blunt person. If we cp fans were wrong with our theory, he would definitely call us out and simultaneously please his solo fans by telling them they're right, thus putting an end to drama among his fans - but he hasn't. The only thing that explains this is assuming he received it from a romantic partner cuz being involved is something that Yibo’s company would not allow him to go public with so instead, he has to hide the necklace as well as his relationship. Likewise, he surely wouldn’t be wearing the necklace all the time if the one who gave it to him wasn’t even closer to his heart than Han-ge is.

Some might even see it as an elaborate marketing strategy.

Marketing what exactly? CQL is over and done with and they don't have other projects together. Not to mention that their connection has brought more harm to their reputations than good and they have way more solo fans than cp fans. Thinking ggdd would go through so much or any trouble just to give credibility to a lie implies that they do it for clout (which neither of them needs or wants) or that they think that queer relationships is something to make fun of or else, that they have no integrity. What exactly is it about them that makes you think they would be such people? They both starred in a BL. Yibo even insisted on trying for that role although he got rejected twice. XZ has shown his support of the lgbt community before. Given Yibo’s entire attitude and e.g. his song lyrics in WuGan, he doesn’t care about fame/clout. He does what he’s passionate about because he’s passionate about it and for money, according to himself. And I don’t think I even need to point out why XZ has clearly no need for more attention. (In fact, his studio asked fans in a recent statement to stop their fan support and voting etc - as a result, his supertopic dropped several spots from the #1, after having been there for months).

And most of the stuff, like posting something at a certain date or time of the day or changing song lyrics is just pure speculation. They might be coincidence.

So what is the limit? How many coincidences do there need to be exactly for them to stop being coincidences? How can posting something at precisely minute 3 or minute 8 always be a coincidence? Especially when XZ wrote in an older weibo post that he uses kadian. He posted at 13:28 in two of his latest updates. On TTXS, Yibo got asked what romantic things he’d do for his partner and he literally said he’d remember certain dates and times and do something surprising. In a more recent weibo, Yibo made a post in support of Han-ge at precisely 21:00 - the kadian of which means "ai ni", love you. He once posted an ad for his mobile game at 18:21 which means "Yi Bo ai ni" and which could have been directed at his fans. Some of their kadian might be but not all of them are reaching and the sheer quantity of all the kadian they've been using proves that those are not coincidences either. Regarding the changing of song lyrics, yes those are speculation. Gg never actually said he'd do that. But the circumstances around those is what makes it seem meaningful. And that time when he changed the lyrics to have the letters ybxz in the beginnings of lines seems meaningful and obvious enough as is.

Some things might not even have anything to do with them together but something completely else.

Of course that is a possibility and one that I am well aware of. I can and do obviously only base my judgement on what we see and know. If there’s something I don’t know that would somehow make my pov wrong, I would be willing to admit that and change my mind. When it comes to things like XZ, changing lyrics to ybxz or Yibo, posting at 10:05 (gg’s birthday) or talking about ordering clothes home to share and then seeing gg in those clothes or gg posting at times that have Yibo’s name or dd, posting at times that have XZ’s name - make it unmistakable to me that they are each other’s special someone and not anyone else’s. Since those things only fit each other.

You see those things as romance because you want to see them as such, not because they objectively are. That's exactly it, seeing things where there are none.

At the beginning of your message, you apologized for assuming I’m a crazy shipper but you end the message with this. “Seeing things where there are none” is what I’d consider crazy shipping so that last sentence sounds like an insult to me. I don’t know what to make of this, lol. Your assumption that I want to see those things as romance is wrong. They’d have it soooo much easier if they were just friends, why in God’s name would I want them to have it more difficult? They wouldn’t feel the need to hide so much, to be so distant in public. We’d probably get fanservice and selfies and joined endorsements. The scandal from February may not have ever happened cuz they’d definitely have fewer cp fans. It’d be awesome if they were nothing more than friends. Not to mention that making wrong claims about a relationship between two real people, solely based on what my desires are, is selfish - it’s about what I want instead of what is. I do not have that attitude. The fact that I wanted to believe they’re just friends is precisely why it took me several months to concede that I must be wrong. I kept dismissing all that I saw as coincidences or as platonic. I do not want ggdd to be lovers but I also don’t want to deny reality. I know that my perception may be fallible, though, so of course I am open to discussing this. I would welcome being proven wrong about this. You don’t properly back up your claims and your arguments don’t take all that we know into consideration. Which is why so far, at least, you haven’t made me see differently.

[goldenchan-fx2thepeacock]

Don’t Go Running Off Into Danger, Even If I Do pt 3

Hek. I woke up today and found that my FNP phic has 41 notes and my DGROIDEIID phic is gaining attention and reblogs; holy shit. And I woke up at noon. It’s Saturday. I sleep in on such days. Anyways. Last I checked, Val and Danny were gonna go get Dani, but we need some Dip and Mabs action cause I forgot last night. I will probably develop an uploading schedule later. For now, just have random updates. I might even make a side blog for this shit.

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Chapter 3

Dipper stood off in the background as Danny got into an argument with a dracula ghost. By the amount of times he heard Plasmius, this must’ve been Vlad. Danny looked pissed when he finished. He still took Dipper and Mabel to their classes, but when they tried to find him at lunch, he was absent.  “I wonder where he is?” Mabel pondered.  “I’m sure he just had something to do,” Dipper replied. Some guy walked up to their table.  “Hey, you’re the kids Fenton is touring. Listen, he’s Phantom and I have proof!”  “And you are?” Mabel said patiently. “Wes Weston. Listen, you gotta believe me!” “We legit just moved here, we have no clue what you’re talking about. Leave us alone,” Dipper said. Wes looked taken aback.  “Fine! Fenton better worry. I will expose him. I just need more proof,” Wes stalked off. Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look.  “Should we be worried?” He asked Mabel. “He seems to have it under control,” 

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Danny stared off into the daylight as they flew. Val set down.  “Come on. She’s fine. Why are you losing it?” “Just a certain Wisconsin Ghost told me about you keeping her,” “Vlad?” “Wait, you know?” “I’ve known since I met Dani,” “Jeez. I’ve known since I met the guy during my parents college reunion. I’m still pissed at him for that whole invisble wall fiasco,” “That was him?” “Yeah. I mean, I started it, but he kept trying to get in my mom’s pants. I needed to put him down a peg,” “You made his wall invisble!?” “Yeah. But it’s not like being naked on camera is going to tell the public any secrets,” “I’m confused. Why do care so much?” “It’s nothing,” Danny grunted. They were headed to the basement. “It seems to be something,” “I have things I’d prefer not to reveal to the entire school,” “No one saw your dick. You managed to catch it in time,” Val was confused. Danny laughed.  “Hey Val. Why would a guy have a female clone? Oh right. I forgot to tell you. Dani is more or less my clone because Vlad was being extra creepy,” “Weird. So she isn’t your cousin. Wait. OH MY GOD! Danny, I understand completely. If Dash knew, you’d be dead meat,” Val caught on quickly. Danny couldn’t but laugh at the dead meat. “Hey! What’s funny?” “I am dead meat Val!” “I’m an idiot. Anyways, we’re here,” She opened the basement door. Dani was sitting on the couch.  “Danny? Val? What’re you guys doing here. Shit, sorry Danny,” “It’s fine. She knows,”  “Who else knows anyways?” Val said.  “You, Jazz, Tucker, Sam and literally all the ghosts,” “Vlad included?” “Vlad included,” “And Amity Park can’t connect the dots?” “No one knows Danny Phantom has a human life. I’d be seriously pissed if someone told the general public,” “That’s fair. Anyways. We’re here because a certain Dracula cosplayer told Danny you were in danger,” Val said. Danny snorted. “Dracula cosplayer? I have to use that on him,” “Why would anyone think that’s a good look?”  “My ‘dad’,” Dani said. Thus causing both her and Danny to break out in laughter. “Where does the whole cousin thing come in?” Val asked. “My ‘Unkie Vlad’. It’s his way of making me family,” “Unkie?” Val looked lost. “I like being a little bitch to him,” “He deserves it! You should expose him,” “If I expose Plasmius, Masters exposes Phantom,” “Oh jeez,” “And there is a very good reason not to expose Phantom. And they wear way too much white,” Dani said quietly.  “I’d prefer not to get dissected,” Danny said haughtily. “They already want to,” Val made a noise of disgust.  “How could anyone with a set of morals do that?” “Heh. I’m a ghost. Not really real to most of the world. I don’t have feelings. Don’t feel pain,” Danny repeated what the ghost hunters had told him way too many times.  “That sounds awful, but we should get back to school. Cya Dani!” Val waved and put on her helmet.  “Hey, wanna leave the quick way?” “What do you mea- AAAAAAAH!” Val screamed as Danny made them both go intangible and up through the roof. “Never. Do that again,” “Hey, at least you didn’t end up going through the table and random floors and get banned from handling anything fragile,” “I’m confused,” “When these powers first came in, I was stuck dropping everything. From my pants to beakers,” “Oh jeez. So, why aren’t nerd and nerdette with you?” “Tucker had to go see a doctor out of town and Sam’s mom took her to this convention thing. They’ll be back tomorrow,”  “No comment on the nicknames?” “They’ve been called worse,” Danny shrugged. “And I’ve been shoved in way too many lockers to care,” “I have one last question. Why on earth would you try to date me when I was trying to kill you? And why did you destroy the suit when I could’ve been inside?” “That’s two questions. But Fenton and Phantom needed a distinction, and I knew you weren’t inside. Technus was controlling the suit,” “You are a mystery,” “I’d like to keep it that way,” “You won’t tell anyone my secret if I don’t tell anyone both of yours?” “That makes it sound like you’re going to tell one of them,” “That’s not what I meant,” “We need to come up with an excuse as to why The Red Huntress suddenly has a truce with Phantom,” “Later. I need coffee,” “I couldn’t agree more,” The plume of blue air showed up. “OH COME ON!” “What,” “I have to deal with something,” Danny sped off. 

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Dipper and Mabel looked at the chaos in the caf.  “Students! Hide under tables! Ghost Hunters and/or Phantom will be here soon,” Mr Lancer yelled into a megaphone. “Already here!” Someone yelled. A flash of white said Phantom. There was blue ghost throwing boxes around.  “I am the BOX GHOST!” It yelled. “Yeah, we know. Just say it already,” “I will win this fight with boxes of... spoons! BEWARE!” “Don’t you know not to bring a spoon to a knife fight?” “You do not have a knife!” “No, but I do have a thermos!” Phantom pulled out a green and grey thermos and flipped the lid.  “I will not stay in your cylindrical object!”  “Looks like you’re gonna have to,” Phantom pressed a button and a beam of light came out of the thermos and sucked the Box Ghost inside. “Is everyone okay?” Kids pushed out from under the tables.  “Phantom! Will you sign my book?” Dash said. This must be a cruel joke.  “Ghost boy! The Fenton Peeler is back in action,” “Whoops, gotta go!” Phantom dashed off as Jack and Maddie Fenton came rushing in. “Darn it. Missed him again,” They ran off. Danny walked into the caf and ran over to them. “You guys are lucky that your first ghost attack was the Box Ghost. Harmless,” “Doesn’t look very harmless to me! That’s gotta’ve been at least a level 5,” Dipper opened the journal. “Nah. Box is a solid 2. Hardly a step up from an ectopus. Might get concerned if Desiree shows up. She’s a level 5,” “What’re you?” “We more or less tested it. Pretty sure I’m a 7,” “That means they aren’t a big concern to you most days,” “Mmm. King Pariah was a level 10. That was terrifying. Vlad’s an 8. Convinced he’s a 9,”  “Okay,” “Skulker gets to be a 6 on a technicality. Without the suit, he’s a 1. He can be an 8 on a bad day. I think Frostbite is a 9. He won’t bother you guys though. Dan must’ve been a 9, but I’m not going into that. Technus is an 8, but can be a 10 if he gets his hands on the right tech. Clockwork is an 11, which technically doesn’t exsist, but Clockwork breaks the mold. He won’t bother you unless you end up destroying the world in the future,” Danny shivered.  “Who’s Dan?” Mabel looked confused.  “Nobody. Just a horrible way to learn not to cheat on tests,” Danny shivered again. “But that’s not important. I didn’t cheat on the CAT,” “Your life seems more hectic than Gravity Falls sometimes,” Dipper said. “Where is that? I’ve never heard of it,” “Oregan. Never Mind All That,” He knew the rules. “You know, the way you say that is kinda creepy,” “We’d be breaking the law if we told you why,”  “Jesus. Well, it’s not like we’ll get another Pariah unless an idiot thinks it’s a good idea. He’ll never get his hands on the crown of Fire,”  “Time Out,” Dipper and Mabel looked around.  “Umm, CW, why aren’t they out with everyone else?” “They’ve met Cipher. At this point, I cannot pause time for them,”  “Eh, whatever. Mason, Mabel, this is Clockwork. What’d you need?” “I actually came to speak to you about the Crown of Fire. In defeating Pariah, you gained ownership,” “I, uh, did what now?”  “Gained ownership of the Crown. Though in your case, it would be the Crown of Ice,” Clockwork repeated. Danny looked lost.  “I don’t need to be the King of the Ghost Zone,” “Someone must take the place. It’s your duty,” Danny looked like he was about to have a full on panic attack.  “Can it wait?” “Two years is a long wait as is,” “B-but it went thousands of years before!” “Because they failed to remove the crown and it wasn’t a singular person,”  “What’s two years in the Ghost Zone? As far as I’m concerned, that doesn’t seem like a long time. Walker was gonna give me a thousand year prison sentence,”  “You get some time, but I’ll tell you, if you take the crown, the Ghost Zone enters an era of peace unprecedented,”  “Danny, what’s happening,” Mabel asked. Danny snapped and started hyperventilating.  “I can’t. No. Why? I just wanted to keep the world safe! Is that too much to ask?” “Daniel, you do get time to think about it. Just remember, time can pass however fast or slow I want it too,” “Right, of course. Cya CW,”  “Time In,”

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Danny trudged home. Exhaustion and anxiety gripped him. Mason and Mabel had been concerned, but he wasn’t about to explain everything. He’d talk to Sam and Tucker tomorrow. It didn’t help that he’d had gym after lunch. At least there wasn’t any more disappearing walls.  “Danny! How was school?” Mom asked as he walked in the door.  “Great!” Danny said and rushed upstairs. He’d deal with The Box Ghost in a minute. Jazz stood in his doorway. She didn’t know about Dan, but she did know about Pariah. “Danny, is everything okay?” “No, everything is not okay!” “What happened? Is it Dash again? We should report him,” “It’s not just that. You remember the Pariah incident?” “Yeah, you don’t just forget that,” “Well, turns out that by beating him, I ‘gained ownership’ to the crown,” “That doesn’t sound bad exactly,” “It’s horrible!”  “How?” “I just wanna be a kid, ya know? It’s hard enough living a double life, but ruling the Ghost Zone? I’d have no chance to do anything remotely useful in the human world,” “You wouldn’t need to. If you ruled the Ghost Zone, ghosts wouldn’t come here anymore,” “The King can’t enforce rules in the Human World. It’s just scary,” 

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Aight, that’s a chapter, I guess. The ideas tend to come from random places, and my brain is running out of ideas. I need to do another “planning session” which is coming up with scenarios in my head to make sure they make sense.