#might not write anything new for a little bit and instead slowly re-write an old wip until i get the energy to write something new

[deanstead]

For You

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested by anon: could you do one where reader is not interested in jay cause she thinks he's one who has a new girl every night but he’s constantly trying? She’ll slowly fell for him too? maybe with a little smut if you write?

Warnings: none, a lil fluff!

A/N: First one for 2021~ Happy New Year! This became a little longer and it feels a bit segmented because of the nature of the request, so I hope this turned out okay! Sorry, I’m not writing smut/NSFW currently so I replaced it with a lil fluff instead, hope that is okay! Enjoy, and feel free to send in more requests! 

---

Jay pushed the beer towards you as he slid into the seat opposite you, a small smile gracing his lips. “Y/N, how about it?”

You looked up at him, internally rolling your eyes. “I told you, Jay, no.”

Jay didn’t seem like he was giving up easily though. “It’s just a dinner, come on.”

Your eyes studied the man sitting across from you at a table in Molly’s. “Jay, you’re asking me on a date.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Jay asked, a hint of mischievousness hidden in the tone of his voice that was almost drowned out by the noise in Molly’s.

You shook your head, although you were still smiling. “I told you, Jay, I’m not going on a date with you.”

Jay remained silent, watching you, as if waiting for you to say more.

“I’m not going to be another one of your conquests.”

The words bounced between you and Jay and for a moment and you could have sworn you saw his face fall for just an instant. “Y/N.”

You shook your head and smiled. “No, Jay. We can hang out here, but there is no way I’m going on a date with you. I’ll see you around, okay?” You pushed off your chair, waving at him as you went to re-join your friends at the next table.

Jay watched you for a little while more, as you leaned on the table, laughing at something, the dim light of Molly’s bouncing off your hair.

“You’re not a conquest.” Jay muttered to himself, before he got up and went back to the bar to join his brother.

---

In a way, you were glad that Jay had seemed to revert back to his old self... mostly. You felt you were seeing him more and more often these days but he hadn’t tried to bring up the topic of a date again.

You treasured him as a friend and really didn’t want that to change. Jay was sweet and looked out for you, but you’d be damned if you let him treat you like another one of those girls he flirted with and probably slept with every other night.

No way in hell.

So you never let it get too far, you drew a line between yourself and Jay and made sure you guys stayed as friends, not just for him but for yourself too. You might as well have a sign flashing at him that read “Not Interested”.

Yet, you allowed yourself to be dragged out here, you mused, as you looked up at Will and Natalie. Stupid Natalie.

You couldn’t believe you had let her talk you into coming for dinner with her and Will… and Jay. This smelled suspiciously like a scheme of a double date but you swallowed back a sassy comment.

“We’ll take two steaks, both medium.” You were snapped out of your thoughts by Will talking to the waiter.

Jay looked at you and you leaned over quietly to point out your order to him – a double cheeseburger.

The waiter turned to Jay as he finished taking down Will’s order. “I’ll have the beef burger. She’ll have the double cheeseburger, can you make sure there are no tomatoes in there.” Your head snapped up, surprised Jay had remembered.

“And there’s no other sauce in there, is there?” Jay asked, not noticing your reaction at all.

The waiter nodded. “Just the barbeque sauce, sir.”

Jay nodded back at him, as he handed the menu back. “That’s fine. Make sure there’s no mayonnaise on the plate, and can we have the salad dressing separate as well, thanks.”

The waiter nodded, jotting down the orders, while you continued to stare at Jay.

“What?” Jay asked, finally feeling your gaze on him.

You raised an eyebrow. “You remembered?”

Jay just smiled back without saying anything as Will smirked across the table.

You had mentioned it just once – tomatoes were a no-go and mayonnaise even more so. You hadn’t even mentioned the salad dressing, you had just wrinkled your nose at how your fries were all soaked in it.

Jay was indeed something.

---

“Heya.” Natalie slid into the bar stool next to you. “Sorry I’m late, I got held up today.”

You smiled back at your friend, taking the last swig from your beer and flashing a smile at Herrmann to ask for another.

As Herrmann pushed the new pint of beer towards you, Natalie cleared her throat. “So…”

You inwardly groaned. You should have known this was coming.

“You’re really not going to give Jay a chance?” she asked, angling her body towards me.

“Nat, come on!” You whined. “Is this why you wanted to meet me?”

Natalie chuckled. “Well, about 50%...”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll tell you the same thing I told him weeks ago. I’m not going to be another one of his conquests.” Natalie tried to argue but you continued. “How awkward is that going to be? I mean, look, he’s not some random guy I met in a bar, he’s my friend and I’m not going to… no way am I going to be another one of those girls.”

As you finished your sentence, you nodded your head further down the bar, where Jay sat. Natalie looked up just as a girl slid towards Jay. Even from this distance, you could see her batting her fake eyelashes at him and a small laugh escaped your lips.

“No way.” You repeated, enunciating each word pointedly.

Natalie didn’t say anything but instead tapped your arm. “Wait, just watch.” It was almost as if she knew what was coming, and was just waiting for it.

You and Natalie watched as the girl twirled her finger in her hair, moving closer to Jay. “Why are we watching Jay like this, Nat?”

“Because.” Nat replied, without turning. “You’ll see.”

Jay smiled at the girl and slid off his seat. “I could have told you that would happen.” You commented before Natalie cleared her throat again.

You looked back up, your eyes widening slightly in surprise as you watched Jay nod politely to the girl before heading further into Molly’s, leaving the girl with a disappointed look on her face. Natalie turned back, smirking at me.

“I swear, Jay’s trying. That’s probably the tenth girl he’s let down since.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her as you saw Jay’s eyes fall on both of you.

“Hey ladies, didn’t see you here.” Jay smiled, his eyes lingering on you a little longer. You cleared your throat and turned back to the bar as Jay slid into the seat next to you.

“Not your cup of tea?” You asked, smirking at him. Jay laughed and shot back, “You would know.”

You rolled your eyes as Natalie put a hand on your arm. “I’ll be back in a while.”

“Wait, Nat…” You tried to stop her but she was already gone.

You turned back to Jay who was still smiling. “So… do I get points for trying?”

“Yeah, nice try.” You responded as he laughed.

“I’ll get out of your hair, but this isn’t over.” Jay warned mockingly, pointing at you, his green eyes twinkling.

“Bye Jay.” You sang, as he floated off to his colleagues.

Your thoughts wandered back to the scene you had witnessed while you were waiting for Natalie to come back. That was new, seeing Jay blow off a girl that he would usually disappear out of the bar with. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that he seemed to be changing. Or at least, trying to.

You shook your head, hoping the thoughts would be shaken out as well.

Jay looked back at you as he stood next to Kevin, smiling slightly at the way you were shaking your head. The faint sounds of his team’s conversation around him. He sure as hell wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

He might have the occasional fling here and there, but contrary to what everyone thought, he didn’t fall into bed with every single girl that flirted with him. Some nights, he merely walked them out to get a cab. But if he needed to prove to you that he was done with flings, and that he was serious about you, then that was what he was going to do.

---

You inwardly groaned as you trailed behind your colleagues. Being the only female engineer in your company sounded great but was definitely not. You could handle the regular snide comments and sexist jokes, but you hated the ‘team drinks’.

They could only be called that if your colleagues actually behaved like a team. They just used this opportunity to get drinks, force you to have more drinks than necessary and have their hands linger on you for longer than was comfortable. It never got too far but that didn’t mean it was okay.

You sighed as they pushed open the door to Molly’s and led the way in. It hadn’t even been a good day, you were tired and cranky, and you just wanted the day to end.

You spotted Jay as you followed them in. He smiled and waved but you made a face and rolled your eyes at them, which caused him to cast a concerned glance at the group before you nodded at him, turning to reluctantly follow them to an empty table.

Before long, the table was full of drinks. Ben the sleaze had brushed his hand against your thigh at least three times and you weren’t even halfway through your first beer.

As your colleagues started to get more alcohol through their system, the comments began. You tried to tune them out, staring at a spot on the wall before turning to watch Herrmann and Stella behind the bar.

“Hey Y/N, how about another drink for you? Something stronger?”

You smiled and shook your head. “No thanks.”

“See, with women, they don’t always mean it when they say no.” One of the guys at the other side of the table slurred.

You swallowed down the rise of anger from your gut and ignored the comment instead. They were rowdier than usual, though, so although they usually moved on quickly, they didn’t this time.

“Come on Y/N, we know you don’t really mean it. Just one more drink.”

You shook your head again, more firmly this time. “Guys, I really don’t feel up to it tonight, alright? I’ll pass.”

That only seemed to make them more determined to get that drink in your hand.

They pushed a fresh glass of beer into your hand. You could feel someone’s hand on your shoulder and someone else was pushing your hand upwards, as if they felt you needed help guiding the glass to your lips.

“Hey, that’s enough.”

Jay.

You weren’t really feeling threatened or scared but you still felt a flood of relief when you heard his voice.

“I could hear her say no two tables away, you guys deaf?” Jay asked.

Your colleagues looked at each other. “Hey, we’re just having some fun.”

“Fun is when all parties enjoy it. You disrespect anyone else while you’re here, we’ll have something to talk about buddy, you hear me?”

Jay turned to you. “Come on, you’re done here.” Authoritatively, he grabbed your wrist, tugging you out from your seat. You didn’t complain but followed him as he led you out of Molly’s.

“Thanks Jay.” You said, as the outside air hit the both of you in the faces.

Jay turned back to you, cracking a smile. “And here I thought you might chew me out for that.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For helping me?”

Jay laughed, “For interfering, because…” he paused and put both his fingers up in the air in quotation marks. “You’re a strong independent woman.”

You laughed along with him. “There’s a fine line between helping and interfering. And you get full marks tonight for the differentiation.”

Jay smiled back, chuckling. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. They’re a little rowdier than usual tonight but I’m kind of used to that.”

“You should never have to get used to that.” Jay half snarled, throwing a dirty glance back at Molly’s front door.

You chuckled as Jay turned his attention back to you. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

The short walk back to your apartment was mostly silent, but a comfortable one. You stole a glance at Jay. You didn’t really want to admit it but you definitely felt a little flutter when he had stood up for you today in Molly’s and if you were being totally honest with yourself, it wasn’t the first time you had felt it.

“Thanks Jay.” You said again, as you reached your apartment.

Jay smiled back at you. “You sure you’re okay?” You could feel Jay’s eyes hovering over you even if you weren’t looking at him.

You nodded and then shrugged. “Just a bad day, I guess.” Jay’s eyes softened.

“I’ve got a listening ear if you need one. Anytime, okay?”

You smiled, “Thanks for being a knight tonight. And you didn’t even flirt.”

Jay chuckled, “Do I get extra marks for that?”

You wiggled your eyebrows back at him. “We’ll see.”

---

It had been a few months since that night that Jay had tried asking you on a date and absolutely nothing had gone according to your plan. You had been so sure you wouldn’t fall for him, so sure that you would stand your ground to just be friends.

But Jay had ruined it all bit by bit.

It was obvious to everyone the changes Jay had undergone the last few months. And honestly, no one would shut up about it either. Which was anything but helpful.

Natalie was talking about something and you were only half listening as you watched the door, noting with mild concern the little tug of disappointment you felt every time the door opened and it wasn’t Jay who walked in.

“Nat.” you interrupted her.

Natalie looked up at you. You took a deep breath, “I should just dive in, right?”

A look of confusion crossed her face for a brief moment before she broke into a smile.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” she asked.

You shook your head. “Too long for comfort.”

Natalie gave you a pointed look. “What are you still doing here then?”

You grabbed your bag, making a beeline for the door. As you crossed the threshold of Molly’s and stepped out onto the street, you came face to face with Jay.

“Leaving already?” he asked, a small look of disappointment crossing his face. If you hadn’t been watching him, you might have missed it altogether.

You hesitated but took a deep breath. “Actually, I was on my way to you.”

Jay smiled but looked intrigued.

“You ever going to ask me out on a date again?” The words tumbled past your lips as you unconsciously clenched your hands in your pocket. Maybe it was a good thing you had had some alcohol before talking to Jay.

You could literally see Jay’s eyes light up, his smile broadening.

“Seriously?”

You smiled. “Unless you decided you don’t want to…”

Jay didn’t let you finish your sentence as he stepped closer to you, one arm snaking around your waist and the other hand cupping your face, his thumb caressing the side of your face gently. “Not a chance.” He whispered, as he leaned forward and his lips found yours.

It was everything you had imagined and more, you could almost feel your knees buckling but Jay just pulled you in closer.

The both of you pulled away and you looked straight back into his green eyes. “Don’t make me regret this.” You whispered.

Jay chuckled, “Oh, never.” He smiled, his hand still resting on your back, his bright green eyes twinkling back at you.

[weasel-b33]

500 Miles (j.p x fem!reader)

Description: A few years after the birth of your son Harry, you and your husband James recall the beginning of your relationship. (NO VOLDY I CAN NOT DO THAT TO MYSELF) 

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, A little Swearing, idk Cute Daddy James, Prolly many spelling errors I wrote this late and I am very tired...

 (THIS IS MY FIRST TIME EVER WRITING SOMETHING KINDA SIRIUS hehe SO IM SORRY IF IT IS TERRIBLE) 

Also the dates may be a bit wrong so im sorry in advance!! 

italicized is flashback!! 

Lyrics used in the song are from “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” by The Proclaimers (I KNOW THE SONG CAME OUT IN ‘87 BUT SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF PLEASE)

(not my gif)

The rambunctious laughter of the four year-old toddler and his father echoed throughout the large estate.

“Daddy!” exclaimed the messy haired Harry, “Can I please have a story.” Heavily emphasizing the puppy dog eyes he learned from his godfather, Sirius, a few years prior.

James Potter, the man unable to say no to anyone, tried to recall a story he had not told his son. Thinking back to the fairy tales of a prince slaying a fictional dragon, even though they are very much real, to save the princess that his mother used to tell him, James realized he was all out of good material. 

“I’m sorry bubs, I have nothing new too share,” the bespectacled man added lamely. The disappointment was instant on the child’s face, but luckily before the waterworks began, Y/N Potter strolled through the foyer into the den.

“Mommy!” Harry exclaimed, jumping up and bonding over to his mother, nearly knocking her over with his brute strength.

“Umph- Where’s the fire lovey?” you questioned with a slight chuckle. The dramatics of your son were never a surprise. Between his father and Sirius, you were surprised he had not acted much worse. Walking, more like sliding due to the child gripping your calves, over to your husband and lightly pecking his lips you ask, 

“What’s wrong now?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sheepishly stated, “I sorta don’t have a new story to tell him... he’s a bit peeved, if you couldn’t tell.”

A loud laugh tore through your throat as you pet your son’s hair affectionately.

“Come off Harry, Mommy has a perfect story to tell you,” you crooned softly.

“You do?”Harry questioned, rubbing the tears out of his stunning green eyes.

You picked him up and sat down near James, “Yes poppet, I have a very interesting story about how two very special people fell in love.” 

James quickly turned his head and quirked a questioning brow, “It all started when they were 15...” 

November 7, 1975

Quietly sitting on the vermilion couch of the Gryffindor Common Room, you began to fade out the noise of Lily ranting about the recent History of Magic exam, and Marlene’s long monologue over if she should or should not cut bangs. Instead, you were beginning to rip out each and every one of the hairs on your head because your Potions essay was nearly finished, yet you could not get those final words to conclude it all. 

Across the common room, a rowdy group of teenage boys, better known as the Marauders, were planning the newest prank on Snape. 

"We should give him that shampoo that will change his hair pink,” Sirius added.

Remus shook his head disapprovingly, “Pads, we did that last time come on..”

“WE HAVE NOTHING! WHAT IS WRONG WITH US, MOONY, HELP I’M DYING OF NO CREATIVITY!” Sirius exclaimed throwing himself across the scarred boy.

Although, many people turned their attention to the dark haired pureblood, James seemed he could not take his eyes off the girl nearly burning holes into her parchment, the girl he has fancied since he was 12. 

While playing with the snitch he stole, he said, “What if we tried that new rain spell we learned in charms today?” 

“Too difficult, we have not had enough practice.” Remus dismissed. “Well what if I found someone to practice on?” James added quickly turning to face his werewolf best friend. 

“Sure... Whatever, I could care less- Pads, get the bloody hell of me before I kick your arse,” 

“I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY REMUS JOHN,” Sirius yelled beginning his quick climb up the stairs to the boys dorm, with Remus and Peter quickly following.

“You comin’ Prongs?” Remus asked to the brunette still staring at the girl with shaky hands.

“No, I’ll come up in a few, still want to try to figure this prank out...” he said quietly. The lanky boy followed his best friends line of sight and quietly smirked to himself.

“Alright, don’t wear yourself out too much.” 

Even throughout the commotion, you still made no move to change your line of sight. That was until Marlene nudged you and whispered into your ear.

“Psst! Oi! Y/N! Why is Potter staring at you?” 

You quickly shook your head and waved off her question, opting to continue to find the right words.

Well until your blonde friend gripped your jaw, and turned your head to the direction of the boy. You instantly made eye-contact with the messy haired Gryffindor and quirked a brow. He smirked and turned his head away. You thought nothing of the interaction, until you felt a sudden drop above your head...

Instantly, it seemed as though there was a storm in the common room. Looking towards the ceiling you saw the dark rain cloud above your head. Quickly turning your head to the essay you were writing you noticed it completely wet and ruined. You jumped into action, trying to salvage what you could, but it was too late. Ignoring the screeches of your friends and fellow housemates, you began to look for the source of the cloud.

That was until you made eye contact with the laughing and smug James Potter.

“POTTER!” you yelled. Almost immediately the rain stopped, but the damage had been done. “JAMES POTTER! YOU BETTER HAVE A REASON YOU STARTED A STORM IN THE COMMON ROOM!” 

Hearing the commotion, the rest of the Marauders came down to the common room to witness what was happening. But all they saw was a yelling match between you and their brunette best friend.

“YOU ARE A DICK JAMES POTTER! KARMA IS A BITCH AND SHE IS COMING! IT’S GONNA BE SO NICE TO SEE YOUR FACE WHEN ALL YOUR ACTIONS FINALLY COME TO KICK YOU IN THE ARSE!” you yelled.

“What? I did nothing, I don’t mean to dampen your mood, but I have no idea what you are on about.” James replies smugly.

“UGH- YOU ARE A BULLY AND A RIGHTEOUS, STUCK UP, EGOTISTICAL ARSEHOLE! I HOPE YOU ARE ENJOYING THIS BECAUSE-- OH MY! I-” You were quickly being dragged away by your red head companion. 

“Y/N, he is not worth it... let’s just leave.” 

“NO! I HAVE TO RESTART MY ESSAY! I WAS THIS BLOODY CLOSE. UGH- YOU ARE AN ARSE JAMES POTTER I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT!”

“Y/N, it was just a prank, its no big deal relax.” James said.

“RELAX! ARE YOU KIDDING... I-” you paused taking shallow and rapid breaths, ‘you know I can not believe you think its funny. You truly have no regard for people and how they feel do you?” you asked slowly and meticulously. 

“Prongs, just apologize and lets go..” Remus said quickly.

“I- I didn’t realize it would be that big of a deal.” James tried to say to you, but it was no use because you had already dragged Lily and Marlene out the common room and to the library to re-start your assignment. 

“Oh, COME ON! I did not” James stated jokingly.

“Darling, you must certainly did, I barley passed that essay as well. I blame you for me getting an E in that class.” You replied giggling.

“Moooommmyyy! Story, get back to the story,” Your son said dramatically, grabbing your cheeks and turning to face him for extra effect.

Hearing a chuckling from James in the background, “Alright bubs, back to the the story”

January 23, 1976

After months of back and forth between you and James, he was fed up trying to get your attention. From roses to chocolate, to even a firework show in your honor, James believed he had done everything to apologize to you for his stupid prank and prove his affection.

Tired of his friends constant whining, Remus and Sirius decided to take matters into their own hands and talk to someone who knew you better than anyone else, Lily and Marlene.

“Oh Evans, Mckinnon, we are in grave need of your beautiful minds” Sirius flirted. Remus smacked him across the head adding, “Ignore the git, we need some help its about-”

“James?” Lily and Marlene said in unison.

“Yeah...how did you know” Remus questioned. “Are we gonna ignore the fact they spoke at the same time” Sirius said, once again receiving a blow from his friend.

Rolling her eyes, Lily remarked, “Well, Y/N has been complaining about him for months,” Marlene quickly interjected, “...and you never are without him so its an easy assumption. 

Now its was the boys turn to roll their eyes to the back of their heads. “Anyways, he will not shut up about getting her to forgive him... so we were wondering if you had anything that could work to get her to forgive him?” Remus pleaded with the best Sirius puppy dog eyes he could muster.

“Fine,” Lily and Marlene said jointly.

“THEY DID IT AGAI- OH NOT YOU TOO AS WELL!” Sirius exclaimed rubbing the now sore bump on his head. 

Ignoring the dog’s dramatics, the group of four began conducting a plan for James that would knock Y/N’s socks off.

At this point, Harry had nestled between his parents and fell into a deep sleep.

The two of you put him to bed and settle down back into the living room.

Looking longingly at his wife, James says, “Well, might as well finish the story love... it is the best part.”

Giggling at the antics of your husband, you shrug and began to finish the story...

February 14, 1976 

The Great Hall looked as though Cupid had just went on a decorating rampage. The room lined with pink and red hearts and the sight of loving couples nearly made you want to gag. Then, you remembered the boy who has dying to get your attention for the past months and can not seem but to get excited.

What does he have planned for you? Is he gonna get me a gift? Do I look presentable? 

“WHAT!” you quickly think to yourself, “Why in Merlin’s name am I excited to to see Jame- Potter. Godric I can’t feel like this for him... He his as a fly that buzzes and will not leave me alone... but he is not the worst to look at”

You quickly snap out of your thoughts as Lily starts to put food onto your plate. You begin to eat, but can only think of one thing.

James Potter.

“Why?” You begin questioning again, “Godric, Y/N You like him... No I do not.. You realize you are having this whole conversation within your brain, right? It is obvious you like him...” you grumble to yourself as you realize your psyche has won once again.

Lily noticing your strange behavior begins to question if you discovered what they have planned. 

Almost as though the boys heard Lily’s thoughts the beginning of the plan is activated.

Instantly, the candles in all of the Great Hall extinguish and there is the beginning of a song plays.

Suddenly, a spotlight shines onto the teachers table where atop, James and the rest of the Marauders stand, Remus and Sirius with guitars and Peter on the drums. James holding a mic begins to sing...

When I wake up, Well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.

Your head snaps to the noise and there you see in all of his glory, James Potter holding a microphone staring straight at you.

When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who goes along.

Quickly shoving the breakfast roll down your throat you nearly choke as you see the boy slowly make his way towards the front of the Gryffindor table.

When I get drunk, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you.

Your eyes widen comically when you see James Potter jump onto the Gryffindor table. 

And when I haver, hey I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's havering to you.

Slowly, the boy begins his walk across the table to where you sit. You try to make a run for it, but Lily and Marlene quickly grab your arms and anchor you down to the bench 

“What friends you are!” you hiss at the two.

Marlene just rolls her eyes and Lily pinches your hip.

And I would roll 500 miles And I would roll 500 more Just to be the man who rolls a thousand miles To fall down at your door

Once the boy is standing in front of you he reaches down for your hand. Stubbornly, you ignore his gesture, well until your two friends throw you up onto the table with the love struck brunette. 

When I come home well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you And when I grow old, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you.

You grip onto the boys biceps for stability and are forced to look into his ravishing hazel eyes...

In that moment you forget all that he has done to you in the past and all you can think about is him and you. 

But I would roll 500 miles And I would roll 500 more Just to be the man who roles a thousand miles To fall down at your door.

Smiling, to yourself, you grab the face of the boy in front of you and mold your lips together. Ignoring the cheers of your classmates, the only sounds you hear are the background noise of the boy’s best friends signing backup. 

Da da da  Da da da                                                                                                            Da Da Dun Diddle                                                                                            Un Diddle Un Diddle Uh Da Da.....

Smiling to yourself and grabbing the hand of the man you love you start laughing.

“What’s so funny, love?” James asks.

“Nothing.... Just we began dating because you performed a whole song and dance in front of the entirety of Hogwarts.” you reply breathlessly.

“Well, hey, look at us now... happy, healthy, and a true family.” he replies smiling at your antics.

You lay down your head into the lap of your husband, and look up into his hazel eyes you got lost into all those years ago, “Such a sap, Potter, such a sap...”

Kissing your cheek softly, “Only for you, my darling girl... only for you...” 

“I love you Jamie”

“I love you more, my love.”            ______________________________________________________________

AHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!! IM SORRY IF IT IS SO BAD!! THIS IS MY FIRST FIC PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I COULD DO ANYTHING BETTER!!! AHHHH (but like kinda like this story... kinda proud ;))

[merci-bitch]

Her Lover

Alma LeFay Peregrine x fem!reader

Warnings: abuse, swearing, death, fluff, angst

Words: 5k

A/N: it’s been a while, hasn’t it. Lol. I’ve been having my exams and shit and I’ve been working on this for the longest time so I’m really sorry if there’s a word that’s not supposed to be there, I don’t really proof read. But hopefully more stuff shall be coming soon. Ta ta! Xx

Jake was surprised, it was all real. What his grandfather had told him, all those stories. They were real. It was unbelievable. At first, when he saw the boomed children's home he didn't really believe it. As that man said at the pub. 3 September 1943. No one survived, but then how come Miss Peregrine's letter had only come 2 years before to his grandfather. How was that even possible?

When we first entered the loop, he of course ran away and nearly got himself killed. Thankfully his new friends saved him from those angry Walsh people. The house looked so different from those ruins he saw. It was actually a very beautiful house. Big and tall and all those flowers growing up on the sides. Completely different.

Miss Peregrine wasn't anything like he'd expected. Not at all, despite from all the stories he'd got from his grandfather. Apparently she was the bird flying above him and his father when they first arrived to Cairnholm. Ever since Jake arrived, he'd notice that on the bird's right hand, her ring finger. There was a small ring with a single diamond. Jake knew it wasn't probably wasn't his thing to ask, but he didn't see anyone else then the people he'd already seen. His grandfather had never really mentioned anything or anyone else then the ones he'd already talked about.

He had helped Emma with the baby squirrel, it was a bit awkward wrapping the rope around her waist. He'd noticed Miss Peregrine's glare, it was uneasy. As if she felt some sort of jealousy? But that was ridiculous. Absurd. Jake had agreed to join them for supper. Emma was helping him in his grandfather's old room. He just couldn't but ask.

"Emma, could I ask you a question?"

"Jake, I told you that there are questions I can't answer." Emma said as she tied his tie.

"I know, but it's just. Does Miss Peregrine love you? Like, that way?"

Emma stilled. Almost uncomfortably.

"Jake. What's got you to even think of such disgusting things?!"

"I'm sorry! It's just, I saw her glare." Jake held his hands up in defeat.

Emma let out a sigh. Looked down before looking up again. "You must understand. Miss Peregrine, well all of us lost someone dear. It's taking her long time to actually get back to who she is. So please, stop asking questions." As she finished speaking the bell rang. They both walked down together and Jake almost sat down on Millard.

"Millard. Go and put some clothes on. Polite persons do not take their supper in the nude."

Jake almost felt sorry for him, he didn't mean to take his place really. He couldn't see him, obviously. He was, well he is invisible. During dinner, he couldn't help but stare at Miss Peregrine's right hand with that ring. Her long slim fingers with those long nails. The ring was silver. The small diamond was pretty. And shiny.

"Claire, why aren't you eating?" Miss Peregrine asked, looking with worry to Claire. Chewing on the piece of food.

"She's embarrassed in front of Jake." Hugh said, leaning over to Claire.

Jake shook his head. "Don't be. Please."

Claire looked over at Miss Peregrine with a small smile and Miss Peregrine sent Claire a wink before turning back to her own food. Claire grabbed the chicken leg and put it behind her head and a few seconds later she put the clean bone back on her plate.

"So Jake, what's your peculiarity?" Horace asked. Leaning over the table a bit to see Jake as he asked.

"Oh, I'm not peculiar." Jake stammered.

Enoch put down his fork and knife and said, "And that, my friends, is why he will not be staying with us. No matter how hard we try to persuade him."

Miss Peregrine spoke up again. Her voice light but firm. "We've spoken about this. Jake is just visiting."

Hugh opened his mouth, "He might want to say."

"Don't you want to stay, Jake?" Olive asked.

"Tonight? Or..-" Jake didn't get a chance to finish of his sentence before Claire irrupted him.

"Forever! You should stay forever." Her smile big.

"Why would he, if he doesn't have to? He can live out there, grow older, have a good time instead." Enoch said. Trying to make a clear point of why he didn't want Jake in the house. Jake could feel Emma slightly lift from her seat despite being strapped down. She was getting uncomfortable.

"He'll leave, just like his grandfather did." With that, Enoch started eating again and Emma got up and practically ran out of the room despite her heavy shoes. Miss Peregrine's call for Emma didn't stop her. As Emma left, a clothed Millard came into the room. Excusing himself. Sitting down and starting to eat his own food.

"Deep breathes Alma, you know how dear Enoch gets with new company."

Miss Peregrine closed her eyes at the voice inside her head. She was right. She slowly got up as the telephone rang. "I think you should all get ready for movie time while I answer that."

"But you always let us stay for it." Claire begged. Miss Peregrine turned around and gave the children a glare that almost scared Jake. She was a strange woman, yes she was. Miss Peregrine stepped out to the hallway, to the ringing telephone. This time, she nearly didn't answer it. Wishing the voice inside her head would come back. Missing the touch of that person with the voice nearly threw her off guard. She nearly kicked herself from going off schedule. Shaking her head, she answered the telephone and went on with the schedule.

The time went on, again. Horace's projected his dreams. One particular dream made Alma tense up. She couldn't watch it. She turned on the lights and heard all the groans from the children. It was almost re-set time. Olive asked Jake to stay and see the re-set. Enoch clearly didn't want him to. Alma felt herself chuckle softly. The arguments between Enoch and re-set. Alma stepped out in her raincoat and put on her gas mask after putting on the music. Run Rabbit Run. She would always sing along to the song-Alma kicked herself mentally again. She stopped her clock, she turned it 24 times to represent the 24 hours of the loop. She took of the gas mask and smiled towards her children.

She said her goodnight to the other children as Emma and Jake made their way out the door. Her smile faded as they disappeared from her view. She closed the door, knowing Emma would lock it. She slowly made her way up the stairs, to the end of the hallway, to her bedroom. She opened the door and walked in and closed the door again and locked it. Leaning against the door and closing her eyes.

"You know me better then I do. Can't seem to keep nothing from you. How you touch my soul from the outside. I still love you even though I'm scared. Learning to be grateful of myself. I wish I could love me like you did, how I wish I could trust myself like you did."

She moved from the door and towards her desk and sat down and started unpinning her hair. Brushing through her hair slowly. That black-blue hair. The little curls. She got undressed and dressed in her lacy nightgown and brushed her teeth and took off the makeup she'd been carrying during the day. She laid down in the cold bed, shivering slightly. Falling asleep after a few minutes.

***

"Clarice! Clarice come on. We have to get back. We can't stay in La Pari forever. We've been gone 7 years too long!" Claire let out a groan and stopped walking. "But Y/N! I love Paris!" Y/N shook her head. Her little sister was definitely a number. "Well, you wrote to Alma we'd be home, so let's go." Clarice didn't move. "I? I didn't write. She's your wife." Y/N felt herself tense up. Oh no. Y/N had forgotten to write, and she'd hopped her darling sister had written.

"When was the last time You wrote back home Clarice." Y/N looking over at her sister, with a glare almost identical to Alma's. Clarice bit her bottom lip. "5 years ago." Y/N felt her head spinning. She sat down and rubbed her forehead. Clarice started laughing. "What's so funny?!" Clarice threw her head back in laughter.

"Oh lord, the handful you will get when you get back. I mean Abe will definitely be in her side." Clarice said while patting her older sister's shoulder. "God. She'd kill me. I swear, I didn't mean to forget and I thought you'd been writing." Clarice shook her head. "But you're right. Let's go home."

***

"Jake, you're back. How wonderful." Miss Peregrine said as she held the Ymbryne tight to her.

"How's it doing?" Jake asked. "Emma said it was an Ymbryne."

"She. Not 'it'. Ymbrynes are always female." Miss Peregrine said as she looked up at Jake. "And Emma was quite correct. This is Miss Avocet." Miss Peregrine continued to give Miss Avocet the medicine.

"Her loop's in Blackpool, England." Jake said. Miss Peregrine slowly turned her head up towards him and saw him holding a piece of paper. "That was a private letter, Jake." She said as she put down the medication.

"Who is Mr. Barron?" Jake asked, slightly raising his voice.

Miss Peregrine's face expression turned blank and her right hand came almost protectively over Miss Avocet.

"Miss Peregrine, if my grandpa was involved with dangerous people. I need to tell the police." Miss Peregrine looked up at Jake again, her brows knitted with confusion.

"Police? Are you implying Abe died an unnatural death?" Her voice going quiet.

"I found him in the woods, with his eyes missing. I'd say that was pretty unnatural." Jake said as he watched Miss Peregrine raise from her chair. Miss Peregrine looked at Jake in disappointment, snatching the letter out of his hands.

"Unless essential, I don't discuss unpleasant matters. An Ymbryne's duty is to protect children, Jake." With that, she left the room, almost in a hurry.

"I'm not a child! He wanted you to tell me everything!" Jake shouted after her. Jake let out a sigh of frustration and walked down the hallway and was stopped when both Enoch and Olive came into his view.

"Oh. How frustrating for you. Between Miss Peregrine's rules and my housemates' little pact not to scare you off, it's like no one's telling you anything." Enoch was sarcastic. Olive stood quietly behind him. Jake leaned forward.

"Why don't you, then? It's not like you want me here."

This time, Olive spoke up.

"Enoch, you can't. You promised." Enoch looked back at Olive before answering.

"Olive's right. I do know someone who can get away with breaking rules though. Want to meet him?" Jake looked a bit uneasy at Enoch before following him up the stairs. Olive behind them.

"Enoch, don't do this. Please!" She grabbed his arm, begging him not to do whatever he was going to do.

"You want to spend time with me and Jake, we can all play together. That's what you said." Enoch said as they reached a door at the end of the hallway. Olive stood in front of them. Not letting them pass through the door.

"Well, here we all are." Enoch said. Olive looked up at him with a bit ready expression. "Move Olive."

"If you're going to be like that, then I don't want to be your friend." With that, Olive left. Sobbing quietly to herself while walking down the hallway.

"Enoch, leave Victor alone. It really upsets Bronwyn." Fiona said as she walked up to Enoch and Jake. Enoch put both his hands on Fiona's shoulders, "Stop fussing, Fiona. Don't you think Jake should meet everybody?" He said while looking over at Jake.

"He's trying to frighten you away, Jake. He's always jealous of Abe. And now he's jealous of you. Come and play with us instead."

Enoch crossed his arms and looked at Jake, waiting for an answer. Jake didn't really know what to say.

"I'd quite like to meet Victor." Jake said after some time. Enoch smiled and ruffed Fiona's hair. Enoch opened the door, letting Jake walk in. "After you."

In the middle of the room there was a bed, covered in thin layers of fabric, and Jake saw Victor, lying there. He slowly walked in, moving with small steps towards the bed.

"Hello, Victor. I'm Jake. I'm sorry to disturb.." Jake looked down at Victor. His eyes were missing.

"Yeah, he can't hear you." Enoch said. Enoch got on his knees and opened Victor's shirt and put the heart he held down into Victor's chest. Jake saw how Victor's chest started to heavy. Almost like a jump scare in movies, Victor sat up and looked over at Jake.

"Hello, Jake. I'm Victor. Do you want to know what killed me?" Almost like a puppet he was. It scared Jake and he ran out of the room, downstairs where Miss Peregrine and the rest of the children were waiting.

"Ah, there you are. Is Enoch with you? It'd time for our daily walk." Miss Peregrine said.

***

Alma walked into the room where Victor lay. Sighing once seeing Victor's covers down. She pulled them up, making sure they covered him and slowly sat down. Noticing the tear falling down his cheek. Softly wiping it away and pulling him up and held him against her chest.

One of the most disappointing things she'd ever done. How she couldn't be able to save Victor, how she'd let her poor child die. She never meant for him to die, she never meant for Bronwyn to lose her brother. Alma felt herself tear up.

"It's alright Alma, you did what you could and for that, Victor will forever be grateful."

She really wanted to believe those words. Oh, how hard life could be. She couldn't let herself to cry. She'd always say it was alright to cry, but Alma just couldn't. She slowly put Victor back in his place and looked at her watch. She had a few minutes before the children would be back, but she had to keep schedule.

Alma walked out of the room, closing the door. Walking down the hallway to the right and then further down that hallway and then into her own bedroom. Closing the door behind her, locking it. Just in case. She quickly walked over to the dressed against the wall, opened a drawer and pulled out a shirt that didn't belong to her.

Sticking her nose deep into the fabric, closing her eyes and breathing in the familiar sent. Holding onto the shirt tightly. Alma felt her eyes sting.

Why did life have to be so cruel? Why couldn't just one person live a life and be happy. Is it only fairytales that get their happy endings and not people in the real world? Was the 'perfect' life all just a big lie that you were told on the television outisde loops? Why couldn't you just live yourself in your dreams? Wouldn't life be so much better if you could? It would save all troubles from people.

Alma slowly sat down on the bed. Still holding the shirt tightly to her. Breathing in the sent again. Letting her eyes roll back for just a second. Accidentally losing herself in the sent. Letting a soft moan escape her mouth which caused her to blush. Hand covering her mouth as she blushed even more.

"My shirt hm?"

Alma turned around with a gasp. No one was there, she let out a sigh. Alma got up again, checked her clock and put the shirt back in the drawer and walked downstairs. Waiting for the children to arrive back home.

***

"Clarice, where was the loop again?"

"You can't be serious. We lived with Alma for years, you're married to her for gods sake!" Clarice sat down in the damp grass, crossing her arms. Letting out a huff.

"Awh, stop acting like a bloody kid! Maybe help me instead of acting like such a bloody moron!" Y/N answered to her sister.

She let out a huff and sat down on a rock. Y/N felt bad. She'd been gone 7 years too long and Alma probably thought she was dead. Just because her little sister didn't write as she used to. Y/N reaches into her pocket and pulled out a few photos. Photos she took, before she left.

Most were of Alma. It was one of the only times she'd let her time be taken from her. She missed the bird.

"Could you stop sobbing and perhaps do something to help? You cant stare at th-hey. Y/N. Was that Abe?"

Y/N looked up and saw nothing. She turned to her sister and hit the back of her head.

"Very funny."

***

The children were packing after they're realisation that they couldn't stay. As Alma had finally gotten the suitcase to close, thanks to the twins, the doorbell rang. How odd. She hadn't expected anyone. Alma walked up towards the door and opened the door and felt her whole body tense.

"Miss Peregrine, what a pleasure to meet you at last!"

Mr. Barron was holding his hand shaped knife against Jake's neck. Alma felt her breathing stop for only a second. What on earth was happening?!

"May we come in?"

Alma took a few steps back, letting him inside the house. Her children standing on the stairs.

"Children! Would you make your way down the stairs, please?" Mr. Barron shouted.

Alma raised her voice. "I give the orders in this house, Mr. Barron." Looking at him sternly.

"Not today. You should know that Jake has served his purpose. If you value his life, I suggest everyone does as they're told. Children!"

Alma raised her finger and shushed him. "No one tells my children what to do!" Alma turned around, a split of disgust in her expression. "Children, come down here, please." Her voice was strong but soft.

The children made their way slowly down the stairs.

"Miss Peregrine-"

"I thought I told you to be quiet." Alma snapped back at him. Giving him one of her famous death glares. She slowly made her way around again to look at her beautiful children. Knowing she might never see them again.

"Children, for Jake's safety, we're going to do what Mr. Barron asks. He wishes to take me with him to his rendezvous in Blackpool. So, for his protection, he'd like me to assume bird form, preferably caged. And he'd like you to make your way into a lockable room, such as the parlour." Alma turned her frame towards the parlour then back to her children before turning around to look at Mr. Barron.

"As he won't release Jake if he fears an attack could be mounted upon him once he loses his leverage. Correct, Mr. Barron?" Alma raised her chin, showing how she awfully despised him. Mr. Barron was at loss of words.

"You're sacrificing yourself and all of us, for Jake?"

Came behind her, Alma turned around and looked at Enoch.

"Me. Barrons travels with a Hollow, Enoch. Once it arrives here, we're all dead." She could almost feels Mr. Barron's wicked grin behind her. Alma saw Horace lean in to whisper something to Enoch but didn't bother to listen. It took everything not to shed a tear. She'd lost everything now. The woman she loved the most, her dear children. Everything.

She moved towards the parlours door and said her goodbye to each child that passed her, ending with a hug from Emma and the twins which made her she'd a tear. Once every child was inside the parlour, she grabbed the door handle to each door and took a deep breath and looked over her children.

"It's been my privilege, to care for you all. Goodbye my children."

Alma closed the doors and turned the lock and turned to face Barron, showing her anger through her tear stained cheeks. Taking steps forward.

"Now let him go."

"Oh, but the fun's just begun Alma." Barron let out a low chuckle.

"How dare you speak my name, filthy bastard." Alma tightened her tone. Growing more impatient by each second that passed.

Barron let out another chuckle, this time of surprise.

"My my, what words those pretty lips let out. Tell me, how's dear old Y/N doing?"

Alma clenched her jaw. Feeling as she might explode.

"How dare you speak her name?! How dare you come here, act like you own everything I have. You took her from me! How dare you mention anything of her's. I know what you did to her family, how her parents practically coward before you. On their knees begging to not die. Letting their dear children's lives pay their depth."

As Alma continued, Barron only chuckled. Jake was confused. Who was Y/N? What did this woman mean to Miss Peregrine?

"Technically I wasn't the one who sold her, her mother was. Her dear parents are still loyal to me as ever. I'd never gotten a chance to meet dear Y/N. So tell me, where is she?"

This time, it was Alma's time to be confused.

"What do you mean by that. No tricks Mr. Barron. I want the honest truth."

As he let Jake go, letting out a groan. "Listen, lady. I'd never meet her. If I had, do you think I'd be asking you? So come now Miss Peregrine. Where is she. Her mommy and daddy just wanna say hello."

Alma felt herself start to tremble. Y/N hadn't been in Barron's possession.

She'd spoken to Jake. Begging him to care of her children before turning into bird form. Flying into the cage. Leaving with Mr. Barron. If her dearest was really alive, she'd never see her again. Nor her beloved children.

***

"Emma, I have a question. Look-I know you don't answer them but it's about something Miss Peregrine said before she turned into a bird. Who's Y/N?"

Emma went quiet for a moment, not really wanting to speak. Jake let out a sigh and continued to talk.

"Mr. Barron said he'd never meet Y/N before. What does this mean-who is she?" Jake looked t Emma who's eyes looked at his. A slight tone of happiness appearing on her face.

"So, that means she could still possibly be alive." Emma's smile got bigger.

"Who is she? Is she another peculiar?" Jake was growing impatient.

Emma sighed. "Alright, if I tell you. Will you stop asking?"

Jake nodded his head and sat down and waited for Emma to speak.

"Y/N came to our home years ago, before Miss Peregrine had made the loop. She came with her sister Clarice. When they came they were both pretty young. I think Clarice was 15 and Y/N perhaps 20. I heard Miss Peregrine talk with them about what had happened to them. It wasn't really, nice."

Emma sat down herself and took a deep breath.

"Mr. Barron came to their house, in the middle of the night and killed their brother, well took his eyes. He was around 8. She talked about how their parents had sold them to Barron for their own safety. But before Barron could touch them they'd ran away. They'd taken the boat and arrived here."

Jake listened as she explained more about Y/Nk's past. But there was just one question bothering him.

"What about the ring on Miss Peregrine's finger?" Jake asked.

"Y/N and Miss Peregrine kinda fell for each other. A few years after the loop was created, they got married. Then again a few years later, perhaps 7 years ago. Both of them left, Y/N and her sister. But after two years they stopped writing back home. We heard nothing from them and since Barron wanted to recreate the experiment Miss Peregrine told you about.”

Jake nodded, shocked. He had nothing against the LGBT community but he’d never thought Miss Peregrine was a lesbian. Perhaps she wasn’t, maybe just fell for the one person she trusted most.

They went on, the plan to save Miss Peregrine.

***

“Clarice, fix it. Please. Something has happened.”

Y/N was panicking. The loop was gone, not a child in sight. Alma wasn’t here either. Clarice had the peculiarity of restoring time, she restored the loop. Made everything go back to normal. The house looked itself again but no child was there. What the hell happened. How long has the house been like this? Clarice was too busy walking to her room.

Y/N looked around, saw suitcases. Were they leaving? But why, and where? It felt strange being back in the house, but with everyone gone. Y/N walked around, touching the walls and everything. Y/N walked upstairs and into the bedroom she once shared with Alma and closed the door behind her. Alma’s perfume hitting her like a smack in the face. The scent of smoke, flowers.

She pulled open the drawer and pulled out one of the dark blue lacy nightgowns and spelled. Alma. Y/N looked out the window. It was dark and it was raining. Y/N loved the rain. She walked over to the window and sat down by the window and opened it to listen to the rain and felt herself drift off into sleep.

***

Alma opened the door and walked in. How in the hell was the house still standing? She hadn’t reset the loop. She was wet and she was tired and drained. She quickly walked into the bathroom connected to her room and took a warm, long and hot shower. She wrapped the towel around herself and stepped out. Looking in the drawer for her nightgown but it wasn’t there. Alma turned her head to the figure she saw sitting by the window and nearly had a heart attack.

She grabbed her pillow and hit Y/N with it multiple times.

“You reckless little-“

“Alma, hey! Stop hitting me!”

“I have every right to be angry at you! I thought you were dead. For 7 years you’ve been gone and then you stop writing?!”

Y/N could see Alma’s cheeks turning red from anger. She stepped forward, grabbing the pillow out of Alma’s hands and kissed her knuckles. Which made Alma shut up.

“Why’d you do that to me, to the children.” Alma’s voice was on breaking point.

Y/N looked up, into those blue eyes. “I never meant to. I forgot to write-“ Alma cut her off with a snort.

“Of course you did.” Alma took the nightgown from Y/N and dropped her towel and put it on. Feeling Y/N’s eyes on her. It made her shiver. Then she felt arms wrapped around her waist and a soft kiss on her right shoulder. “I’ve missed you. Please don’t leave again.” She felt Y/N shake her head and turned around in her arms and kissed her lover on the lips softly. Nearly losing herself in her lover’s lips. Laughing softly after feeling Y/N’s hands tickle her sides.

“I hate you.”

“You love me birdy.”

[ao3komorii]

Tangling with the Boss (Sett/Reader) PART 2

The part 2 of my Sett story! There are only 2 chapters so this is it. I really feel that since Sett was so stunted in his youth that when he finally gets a girlfriend, he’d be over the top with his flirting so the flirting is like x100 in this! Can’t say I won’t write more for Sett in the future, but right now I want to focus on other champs. There is sex in this one as well. Enjoy! :)

----

Sett was such a handful. It had taken you at least an hour to convince him that he should let you out of bed, and that was only after you obliged his newfound wandering hands for a while.

“I have to help Inora,” you protested, placing your hands against his mouth to keep his lips from touching yours. “We have a bunch of orders that need to be finished. And don’t you have to be at the pit today?”

Sett groaned, pulling back from you at last, stretching his arms behind his head and looking like a petulant child. “You sure know how to kill a mood, princess.”

“If you get on Inora’s bad side, she might make you let me pet your ears again!” you teased, recalling Sett’s flushed cheeks from the last time that had happened.

Sett had gotten out of bed and zipped up his pants by this point, but turned back to you with an amused grin. “If that’s all you wanted, you just have to ask.”

His flirting caught you off guard, and you blushed brightly, diving back under the blanket in embarrassment, a bark of laughter from Sett accompanying your movements. When you finally came up for air, Sett was fully dressed, which made you more aware of just how naked you still were in comparison. While Sett had no problem dressing in front of you, you felt shy at the thought of doing the same thing yourself, even with everything you had done with him last night and this morning.

Sett smiled at you, a smile that looked a little too mischievous for your liking. He crossed the room, opening the door before stopping in his tracks. “I’ll get some food. If you’re still naked by the time I get back, then ya can’t complain about what I do to you.”

Your face burned, the door closing behind Sett and leaving you alone with your thoughts. It was almost laughable how different he was to when you had first met him. You had known him for only a few months, but he was already irreplaceable to you. Sett’s advances towards you last night had been sudden, but not unwelcome. You had harbored feelings for the half-Vastayan for some time and thought you had a general understanding of what he was like, but it was like he had let go of all reservations the moment that he kissed you. He had been flirting heavily ever since you both woke up, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take without spontaneously combusting.

You slipped out of the covers, shivering at the sudden lack of warmth. It wasn’t often that you felt cold anymore, but the lack of clothing wasn’t helping. You had to get up; you had too much work to do today to let Sett make good on his recent promise. You winced as you picked up your somewhat-burned clothing, reluctantly putting it back on and trying to adjust your shirt in a way that was at least somewhat covering your chest. You would probably look like you had escaped a burning building, which in a way wasn’t too far off the mark. Except in this case, you were the burning building.

Sett re-entered the room as you were sitting on the bed and fiddling with the hem of your charred skirt. You looked up at the sound of the door opening, meeting eyes with Sett just in time to catch the apple he tossed your way, the fruit sailing smoothly into your hands.

“I’ll walk ya to Inora’s,” he said, biting into his own apple.

“Okay,” you replied, not-so-secretly happy that you would get a little more time with him before you had to part ways for the day.

Apples quickly eaten, you followed Sett out of his front door, desperately trying not to think about how you had been pinned against that door the night before. You weren’t sure when you would adjust to this new change in your life, but for now you were just grateful that Sett was walking ahead of you so he couldn’t see how red your face must be right now.

You quickly ran out of luck as he slowed his pace so you could walk side by side. You took a deep breath before looking over at him, and were surprised to see contentment clear on his face. As soon as he noticed you looking at him, he reached down to take your hand in his, pulling on it to bring you closer to his side.

“Can’t have ya runnin’ off to get painted naked,” he said with a grin.

You grimaced with disgust at the thought of that creepy guy, and Sett laughed at your plight.

“If he gives ya any more trouble, let me know and I’ll make a house call,” he added.

“You scared him enough yesterday!” you replied. “I doubt he’ll ever commission anything from us again.”

“Good,” Sett said, sounding every bit of the pleased troublemaker that he was. You were only a little bit bitter that his grinning face was too cute to stay mad at.

The walk back to Inora’s house was pleasant; having Sett’s hand in yours was new, but you found yourself adjusting quickly. You did not fail to notice that he had left his usual studded glove off of the hand that held yours, assumedly in an effort to not poke your hand with the metal bits attached to his gloves.

Walking around in the daytime was much nicer than at night; all of the times that you had been attacked at night really put a damper on the midnight stroll experience for you. And there was a distinct lack of thugs out when it wasn’t dark outside, minus the one currently beside you. But he had been on his best behavior, other than all the flirting and the one hopefully-idle threat to go maim the creepy old guy.

You were enjoying the walk so much that you only realized you had reached your destination when Sett stopped walking. You looked over to see the familiar sight of Inora’s home, looking exactly the same as it had the previous day. You weren’t sure what you were expecting; despite all of the things that had happened between yesterday and today, it had still only been a day.

You pulled away from Sett, about to remove your hand from his grip so you could head inside and reassure Inora that you were okay after not coming home last night, but were stopped by Sett’s grip on your hand tightening as he used your connected hands to pull you right back to him, your back pressed against his chest.

He leaned down, his lips at your ear. “You’re not runnin’ away from me, are ya?”

His breath at your ear combined with his sultry tone had you freezing in your tracks. He let out an amused snort, turning you around so suddenly that you had to brace your hands on his bare chest for support. He was staring down at your like he was expecting something from you, but in your surprise, you couldn’t figure out what he wanted.

Sett shook his head with a smile. “You were really plannin’ on leavin’ me without even a goodbye?”

“Oh.” So that’s what he was after. You smiled up at him. “Have a good day at the pit!”

He stared down at you impassively, face blank, his hands slowly drifting to your waist.

“Ain’t good enough,” he said bluntly, lips twitching upwards at your confused frown.

Sett leaned even further into your personal space, tilting your chin up with a finger so he could kiss you. You hadn’t seen anyone out and about in the neighborhood, so you didn’t mind indulging him, closing your eyes and shyly meeting his tongue with your own when he initiated a deeper kiss. He really was a force of nature, and you didn’t notice his hand on your side creeping back until his hand was on your ass and squeezing.

You gasped against his mouth, but before you could do anything, you were startled by an amused voice speaking up.

“A little early in the day for that, Settrigh.”

Hearing Inora’s voice sent a shockwave through you, your eyes snapping open and hands coming up to push Sett off of you. He let you push him back, but his hand remained on your ass until you grabbed it and moved it off before turning to face Inora.

“I… I…” You weren’t sure what to say, but Sett didn’t have the same problem.

“Mornin’, Aunt Inora,” he greeted, not even a little bit phased by Inora catching the two of you in such a compromising position.

Inora raised an eyebrow, but looked more amused than angry, her arms crossed over her chest. “I figured she was with you last night. Though clearly you’re dangerous in your own right as well.”

Sett grinned in response and Inora shook her head. “You better take good care of her, Settrigh. She’s like a daughter to me.”

Sett readily agreed, while you were a mess of embarrassed by the situation and happy to hear that Inora considered you to be like a daughter to her.

Inora sent a kind smile your way before turning a stern look over your head at Sett. “Shoo! Don’t you have some hoodlums to go oversee instead of groping my apprentice on a public street?”

Sett knew better than to argue with Inora, but also wasn’t willing to leave you without a proper goodbye. You squeaked with surprise as you were suddenly hoisted up in a princess carry, Sett’s lips on yours before you could fully grasp what was going on. You could only grab at the edge of his coat to keep yourself from tumbling out of his arms in shock. The kiss this time was short and sweet, more Sett being dramatic than anything. After a few seconds, you were put back down on your feet, Sett looking like the cat that got the cream.

“See ya later, princess,” he said with a grin before making his exit and leaving you standing there, still stunned by his boldness.

Inora approached you, spurning you to snap out of it and meet her halfway.

“That boy sure likes to show off,” she said with a laugh.

“You’re not… surprised?” you asked, eyes flitting briefly in the direction Sett had left in.

“Surprised that Settrigh finally made a move?” she asked rhetorically with a scoff. “Not when you’ve known him as long as I have.”

You were still a little dumbfounded as Inora reached over to put an arm around your shoulders and walk you over to the front door of the house. She opened the door, ushering you inside and closing it behind the two of you before turning to you with her hands on her hips.

“Now clearly something else happened, because I doubt your clothes got all scorched for nothing,” she said with a raised brow.

You looked down at yourself, weeping internally for your ruined clothes. You really needed to invest in some fireproof clothing if fights with ruffians were going to become a regular occurrence for you. You didn’t have enough clothing to keep having to throw it away. You sighed; you had really liked the outfit you had on before it had been singed beyond repair.

Inora let you have some time to wash and redress yourself before sitting down to talk over some tea. You felt much better being out of your burned clothes, and Inora’s relaxed posture gave you the confidence that you needed to tell her the story of what happened to you the night before, minus the more lascivious details from the end of the night. As you talked, Inora got more and more furious as you detailed your encounter with the thugs.

“I can’t say they didn’t deserve to be burnt to a crisp!” she said angrily. “Clearly they didn’t have the sense to pick a fight with someone more on their own level.”

You sighed. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

Inora grinned as she drank the last of her tea. “Settrigh is just lucky you were there with him. Some help he was.”

You weren’t sure what to say, and Inora laughed. “I’m glad that he has you now. He needs a positive influence that he’ll actually listen to!”

“Him, listen to me?” you echoed. His performance outside the house earlier had demonstrated none of what she was saying, so you were a little dubious of her assertion that you had any sway over his actions.

She understood where your thoughts were at the moment and laughed. “Earlier? He likes to show off too much. And you would be his first girlfriend, the poor thing. It’s a miracle he didn’t slobber all over you.”

“Inora!” You were embarrassed by her frank comment on Sett’s kissing skills, but your mind caught on more than just her teasing. “He’s really never…?”

“Not that I know of,” she answered. “If he was seeing someone, I would know. As you could probably guess, that boy is as subtle as a Noxian war banner.”

Alas, you hadn’t been kidding about the amount of work you had to do that day. You resolved to ask Inora about more stories from Sett’s childhood another time when there were less glassworks to be made.

You were relieved to hear that the creepy collector hadn’t come by to complain or make any further requests. Not that Inora would have accepted any further commissions from him; you were lucky that fire couldn’t hurt you when you dropped a burning torch on your foot when Inora decided to start describing the rather creative things she would do to the man if he ever came near you again. By the end of her rant, you were glad that you had never gotten on her bad side; you certainly hadn’t been prepared for the sheer creativity of her imagined punishments.

You were very tired by the end of the day, both you and Inora having foregone a break so you could get all requested pieces done on time. The two of you collapsed at the table, eating a significantly more simple meal than usual that consisted of leftover soup and some crackers Ciorah had given Inora as a gift. You were struggling to stay awake long enough to eat your dinner when you noticed Inora staring at you with a grin on her face that told you she was clearly up to something.

“I have an idea!” she announced excitedly.

“Yes…?” you replied, hoping for more of an explanation about what she meant.

“An idea of how to help Settrigh have a taste of what he’s missed out on!” she said.

She laughed at your confused look and continued. “It is not uncommon for working people to have food brought to them by their lovers, and Settrigh would certainly enjoy a surprise visit from you.”

“You think I should surprise him at the pit?” you replied incredulously. “But the last time I was there–”

“You’ll be safe if you go in the daytime,” she insisted. “Those ruffians really like to sleep in, so I doubt any of them will be awake to bother you. Not like they could win a fight with you anyways.”

“But I’m not sure what food he likes…” you said.

Inora smiled. “Ciorah would know best. You should go see her tomorrow morning and get her help. She’ll be happy to help out.”

You took a second to think about her idea. You kind of liked the idea of surprising him, and it had begun to overpower and nervousness that you felt about returning to the pits. You kept thinking about Sett’s reaction to you showing up, and the excitement you felt was enough for you to agree to Inora’s idea. You didn’t do much cooking, so you were relieved to have Ciorah to ask for help because you didn’t think Sett would let you live it down if you gave him food poisoning.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do today’s deliveries by yourself?” you asked Inora for the third time that morning as she was trying to shoo you out the front door.

“Are you calling me old?” she replied jokingly. “Now go before I change my mind and put you to work!”

“Fine,” you relented at last, allowing Inora to herd you out the front door.

“Don’t have too much fun!” she teased, her eyes glowing with mirth.

“I won’t,” you replied with a laugh, heading off at last.

The walk to Ciorah’s house felt quicker than usual, perhaps because you had your excitement to fuel you. And more than anything, you were just happy to spend some time with Sett. It still felt weird to you to be this happy compared to your old life in Demacia where everything and everyone strived to be the model of seriousness. It was a wonder that happiness itself wasn’t formally banned there.

Ciorah came to the door almost immediately after your knock, her delicate face beaming with joy at your surprise arrival. She quickly invited you in, a lone teacup on her table telling you that she had been in the middle of her morning tea.

“It is good to see you,” she said happily, pouring you some tea as well.

You felt a little silly being nervous to ask her this favor, but you cleared your throat and went for it. “Um, I was wondering if you would mind helping me make some food to take to Sett at his work?”

“Of course!” she replied instantly, clasping her hands together, and you felt silly that you had worried about asking her for help on the way to her home.

You followed her into the kitchen as she began to look through her cabinets thoughtfully, pulling various items out and placing them on the counter.

“I have not made Settrigh a packed lunch in a long time,” she said. “He has been independent for so long now that it feels like I do not get to be a mother much anymore.”

She began to spread out the supplies, which included a head of cabbage. “I used to make cabbage rolls as a special treat when Settrigh was sick or feeling upset.”

“They sound delicious!” you replied warmly.

Ciorah’s smile looked sad as she peeled a leaf from the cabbage. “I fear he ate them too often when he was younger because of my choices. If I had been more careful with who I loved, maybe he could have had a happier childhood.”

“Ciorah…” You didn’t know what to say to her sad admission.

“I have always regretted not giving Settrigh a loving father. He deserves better than to have to work so hard to provide for his pitiful mother…” she trailed off, tears in her eyes.

“You’re not pitiful!” you said sternly. “And you’re not to blame for what happened. The only one who is pitiful here is his father.”

Ciorah spoke your name softly, and you calmed down enough to realize you had insulted her husband to her face and hastily apologized.

Ciorah wiped her tears with her sleeve, shaking her head. “There is no need for you to apologize. You have not said anything about his father that I have not thought myself. Sometimes I just wish I could have done more to help Settrigh.”

“He loves you,” you insisted. “He’s happy that he can take care of you. I know he would be sad if he heard you say you weren’t a good enough mom.”

“I am glad he has you,” she said as she began to wrap the cabbage around the ball of filling. “I suppose this is all practice for when you really become my daughter.”

“Ciorah?” You dropped the cabbage roll you were working on in shock at her words.

Ciorah looked confused. “You and Settrigh are a couple now, are you not?”

“How… how did you…?” you stuttered.

She giggled as she reached down to fix the cabbage roll you had dropped, easily patting it back into the proper shape. “Just a feeling that I have been having as of late.”

“Oh.” You felt a bit embarrassed that she already knew, but not upset. You were relieved that she was fine with you seeing her son, since you knew her approval meant a lot to both you and Sett.

She placed the roll she was working on down on the tray before turning to you and bending down in a low bow. “Please take care of my precious son. I wish you both happiness.”

“Ciorah, what–”

She raised her head, smiling softly, her lilac hair flowing over one shoulder. “Sorry to startle you. It is an old Vastayan custom from my tribe to show gratitude to your child’s partner.”

“There’s no need,” you replied with a laugh. “If anything, I have infinitely more gratitude for you. I would be on the streets or worse if you didn’t save my life when you took me in. Your tribe made a mistake when they exiled one of the kindest women I’ve ever met.”

Ciorah looked down bashfully. “After all this time, I think that it may be for the best that I was cast out from my tribe. As much as you needed help, you have returned to the lives of me and my son. It is now Settrigh and I that are better for having you in our lives.”

The cabbage rolls were all but forgotten for the moment as Ciorah hugged you gently, stroking your hair in a way that only a mother could. You knew that you could easily live a thousand years without hearing those words from your own parents, and yet Ciorah spoke them easily and genuinely. You doubted you could have found better people to surround yourself with if you had searched the entirety of Runeterra.

Eventually the tender moment mellowed out and you were able to complete the cabbage rolls, and now you were sat at Ciorah’s kitchen table while she gently packaged the food before placing it into a hand-woven bag.

“I am sure Settrigh will be delighted to have food brought to him by you,” she said as she placed the bag on the table in front of you. “You will have to tell me how he reacts to the surprise.”

“I will!” you promised.

“You should go,” Ciorah said. “I am sure you would rather see him than hear more sad stories from an old Vastayan like myself.”

Before you could insist that you liked hearing her stories, the small woman had pulled you with her to her front door in a way that reminded you heavily of when you had left Inora’s home earlier that morning. Why were they both getting so worked up about you bringing Sett lunch?

“Ah, young love…” Ciorah said dreamily. “It has been a long time since I was your age.”

You knew she meant well, but you weren’t sure how much more embarrassment you could take at the hands of the two women today. When she would not take no for an answer, you finally acquiesced and bid Ciorah farewell to head off to the pit.

You were relieved that it was a cool day out, because you really needed it for your flaming cheeks, still glowing with embarrassment from Ciorah’s teasing. The streets were not too busy, largely populated by children playing and a few people milling about the stalls of the marketplace looking at the various goods that were for sale.

The chatter of the early afternoon crowds was a welcome difference from Ionian nightlife. Even now, you stuck to main roads only. Although those men could not come after you now, you would not give anyone else the chance to hurt you again, not now that Sett had enlightened you to the true strength that you possessed. But you were determined to not give them the opportunity to try, making sure to give a wide berth to the few obviously sketchy characters you noticed hanging about on your walk to the pit.

Shifting the packaged lunch to one hand, you approached the doors at last. They were much taller than you were, which made sense, as pretty much all the people who walked through them cut a more imposing figure than you did.

You raised a closed fist, rapping it against the door a few times, the sound louder than you thought it would be. You stood very still, listening intently for any sounds of someone approaching from inside. When you heard nothing, you tried the door again, furrowing your brow. This may be a more difficult operation than you had initially assumed…

Sett could not have been more obvious if he had been trying. Ryo had noticed immediately, which wasn’t unexpected as he had known the boss a long time, but even the dumbest of the pit staff had picked up on Sett’s suddenly uplifted mood during the previous night’s matches. Nobody said anything to the large man out of fear of souring his pleasant mood, but Ryo silently smiled with anticipation for the next day during the profit counting.

Ryo strolled leisurely into the building at mid-morning, knowing Sett would likely already be there. Counting the night’s earnings was a particular point of pride for Sett, especially when he set aside the portion that was to go to his mother.

But Ryo was still curious about his friend’s mood the previous night, and there was no time better than the present to test out his theory of a mystery girl in Sett’s life. With that thought in mind, Ryo pushed open the door and stepped into the room.

“You’re late,” Sett’s gruff voice rang out playfully from behind a pile of coins he had been counting.

“Not all of us have someone to wake up to in the morning,” Ryo replied, testing the waters.

“Tryin’ to pick a fight with me this early in the mornin’?” Sett growled, but Ryo knew there was no true bite behind the boss’ words.

“If it isn’t a girl, then what?” Ryo replied, sitting down to begin counting coins alongside Sett. “You were downright pleasant yesterday. Nobody pissed themselves with fear just by looking at you, has to be a new record.”

Sett scoffed. “Guess I gotta hire men that know how to mind their own business.”

Ryo ignored the jab. “What’s the harm in bringing her by for a visit? You afraid one of us will steal her from you?”

Ryo didn’t usually push Sett’s buttons this hard, but it was the only way he could think of to get his friend to open up. Asking nicely had never been a great approach with the hardy half-Vastayan. And judging by how Sett’s nostrils flared and his eyes darkened, he knew that Ryo was egging him on. Ryo only hoped that he had pissed Sett off enough for him to disclose some information.

Sett exhaled through his nose. “She don’t need to be paraded around the likes of this place.”

So there was a girl. Ryo didn’t let any of the victory he was feeling internally show on his face. The admission of your existence from Sett was all Ryo was willing to risk pushing for. He knew that Sett had an image to maintain, so he would allow his friend a break from the questions.

Ryo stood up from his seat. “Looks like we’re a few coin bags short. Be right back.”

Sett waved a hand in dismissal, and Ryo took that as his cue to leave. Closing the door behind him, Ryo made his way to the storage room, grabbing a handful of cloth bags. Finding the usual box less full than usual, he made a mental note to have more commissioned.

Ryo took some extra time to survey their other supplies, noting some other supplies that were running low. Tempers tended to run hot in the pit, and he was used to paying attention to the small things to prevent as many incidents as possible. Sett had no problems shutting arguments down himself, but if resolution of all conflicts was left up to the boss, they would certainly be down quite a few employees.

Bags in hand, Ryo finally left the room. The fighters tended to get antsy if they didn’t have their money in their hands as soon as they left the ring, which made pre-bagging booking fees all the more important. Who knew that bloodthirsty meatheads had hair-trigger tempers? Shocking.

He was about to turn down the hallway that led back to the office when he heard a faint noise coming from the front of the building. Turning on his heel, he walked towards the main hall, and it became obvious that the noises he was hearing were coming from the currently-locked front door.

Ryo sighed; unexpected visitors to the pit never tended to be anything good. Unexpected guests usually fell into one of a few categories; sore losers coming to complain about their lost bets, angry fighters arguing about not being rebooked, and the occasional women trying to get a one-on-one meeting with Sett. Ryo had some fighting capabilities; he would have to in order to work in the pit, but he wasn’t looking forward to potentially dealing with the heavily-muscled woman from last week if she had decided to stop by again to insist that the boss wouldn’t be able to resist her if Ryo would just let her in to see him.

It was with dread that he approached the door just as the knocking stopped. Bracing himself for a confrontation, Ryo began to unlatch the many locks that kept the door closed to the outside. Once the door had been fully unlocked, Ryo opened it slowly to give himself time to assess the situation. His brows raised lightly in surprise as the door opened to reveal a face he wasn’t expecting, a face he found was familiar to him.

You were about to give up and turn back when the door began to creak open. You felt a jolt of anticipation shoot up your spine, and your mind flitted around; should you shout surprise, or just say hello like this was normal? You couldn’t make up your mind, and it seemed you wouldn’t have to, as the door opened to reveal not Sett, but another man.

The slender man in the doorway had black hair pulled back in a ponytail, his clothes simple but flashy, vest and sleeves trimmed with silver. He held what looked like pouches in his arms, and as you looked up from them to his face, you realized that you had seen him before. He had been the one to separate you from your kidnappers that night at the pit, and the realization left you speechless, whatever you wanted to say disappearing from your mind entirely.

The man’s cautious look morphed into a friendly smile as he opened the door fully, stepping aside to allow you in. When you hesitated, unsure of what to do, he chuckled, a knowing look in his eye that you weren’t able to decipher.

“You’re here to see the boss, aren’t you?” he asked. “Can’t say I expected this, but he doesn’t have bad taste.”

You weren’t following what he was talking about, but you had a feeling that he knew more than he was letting on. You didn’t want to push him on the subject and chance missing out on seeing Sett, so you simply nodded, following him inside the building.

You watched as he locked several very complicated-looking locks, bolting the door firmly shut. What had you just walked into? This man had helped you before, but what if he was just like the crooked security guard, or the man who had let those creeps enter you into the fight?

Before you had a further chance to assess him, he turned around with a smile, offering you his hand. “Nice to meet you, miss. My name is Ryo.”

He looked friendly enough, you reasoned, as you took his hand, giving him your name in return. If he got unfriendly, you had your powers to rely on. That and Sett had assured you that everyone who had conspired in your ordeal had been swiftly shown the door.

He nodded once, releasing your hand and beginning to head down the hallway. You followed behind him, still unsure of what to make of the situation, but you were at least inside the building now.

“You’re looking well,” he spoke up as if he was talking to an old friend. “I apologize that your previous experience with the pit was so… reprehensible.”

“It’s okay.” You weren’t really sure what else to say as you looked around the hallway as you walked with him. Last time you were here, it had been under duress, so you didn’t really have a chance to look around.

The area was more pristine than you would have thought a fighting pit would be. Banners boldly decorated the walls and the stone floors were remarkably clean, but most notable to you was the silence. It was a little eerie to you just how quiet it was, a big difference to the raucous atmosphere the pits had on fight nights. Silence just didn’t fit a place like this.

“I s’pose I should thank you,” Ryo said as he stopped suddenly.

“For what?” you asked, stopping beside him.

“He’s been happier lately,” Ryo answered sincerely. “I assume that’s thanks to you.”

You felt something click into place in your mind as embarrassment flooded your face. “Did he–”

“…tell me about you?” Ryo finished before shaking his head with a chuckle. “Not quite. He’s just a little too obvious for his own good.”

“Oh.” Inora had said the exact same thing earlier, you realized.

His carefree smile turned conspiratorial, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned closer to you. “Can I ask you to do something for me?”

You stared at him with wide eyes, but something about the playfulness in his own eyes made you feel inclined to agree to his request.

“Alright…” you said warily, hoping you hadn’t just agreed to something dangerous.

“I only need you to trust me,” he said with a grin. “I just want to give that guy a surprise.”

That still didn’t sound like an explanation to you, but your curiosity kept you silent as Ryo raised a finger to his lips, leading you further down the hallway. As you were about to reach a door at the end of the hall, he held his arm out in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Just stay right there,” he whispered, approaching the door as you stayed just out of view, still not sure what he was planning to do.

You watched as he approached the door, pulling it open partway, but not enough for anyone inside to be able to see you. Knowing Sett was in there made you feel a little giddy about surprising him; there was no way he could possibly expect you to come here to see him. You clutched the handmade food to your chest, heart beating loudly in your ears as you waited in anticipation.

“Boss, I found an intruder,” Ryo said, shocking you cold with the serious tone his voice had taken on. You would have really been concerned if he hadn’t quickly turned back to you with a wink before facing forward again.

“An intruder?” Sett’s voice echoed from inside the room. “And you’re bringin’ ‘em to me?”

“Thought you’d want to deal with it personally,” Ryo said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

Sett sighed. “Bring ‘em in.”

“If you say so,” Ryo replied, sounding all too pleased with himself as he stepped back from the door, motioning you forward.

Now that the attention was all on you, you froze. What if he was annoyed? What if he thought you were wasting his time coming here?

“Well?” Ryo prompted gently. “Go on in.”

It was clearly too late to run away now. You knew you were just standing there like an idiot, but you couldn’t make your feet move. You were taking too long to do something, and clearly Sett had gotten impatient as you were startled by the sound of sudden footsteps heading towards your direction.

“Whimperin’ in his boots?” Sett’s voice was getting closer. “I ain’t real fond of my time bein’ wasted–”

The second his figure fully emerged from the room and he spotted you, he stopped in his tracks, looking stunned. You offered a smile, still embarrassed, watching as he turned his sharp gaze to Ryo.

Ryo shrugged his shoulders casually, not intimidated in the least. “I can finish the totals myself. Give you some time to deal with the intruder.”

Ryo passed by his boss, heading into the room before turning back with his hand on the door. “She’s cute. I approve.”

“You–” Sett didn’t get a chance to properly respond as Ryo closed the door on the dumbfounded pit boss.

You sheepishly approached him and he turned from facing the door to look down at you. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to surprise you.”

He snorted. “Nah, you just saved me another hour of bein’ stuck in there with him,” Sett replied, gesturing to the room behind him with a jerk of his head.

“You’re welcome, in that case!” you joked as he leaned down to kiss you.

He pulled away with a grin, wrapping an arm around your waist. “How about I show you the best seat in the house?”

You weren’t really sure what he meant, but you readily agreed. Sett led you back down the hall you had come from, walking back to the front door before turning down the wide hallway that you knew led to the fighting pits.

You thought he was taking you through the main doors into the pit, but he led you further down the hall and up to a black door that he pulled open for you. Ascending the stairs behind the door led you to an open doorway that opened up to the rows and rows of stands that surrounded the pit.

You were momentarily stunned at how different the pit looked from up above. The pit itself was large, but it looked so much smaller from above than it did when you had been down there. It felt weird looking down at the scene of one of the worst moments of your life, but you weren’t afraid. Not with Sett at your side. You were not weak and powerless, not anymore, and looking down at the pit from the other side of that awful moment proved that to you.

Sett led you around to the side of the stands until you found yourself beside a large chair lined with red fabric, the chair directly facing the far end of the pit. You realized immediately that this had been where Sett was sitting that night when you met eyes with him from down in the pit.

“You really left your mark,” Sett said, and you turned your head to see what he was looking at.

Your focus was immediately drawn to the wall behind the chair, the splash of black standing out against the russet-toned wall. You stepped away from Sett’s side to run a hand along the charred wall, black flecks coming off on your fingers.

“Thought you were aimin’ for me until I saw what the other guy looked like,” Sett commented.

“My fire got all the way over here?” you asked, feeling like you were stating the obvious.

Sett smirked. “Fastest match I’ve seen in a long time.”

You moved your hand away from the wall, rubbing your fingers together to rid them of the flecks of soot. You looked back to see Sett standing a few feet away, looking over the pit, his ears twitching towards you as he heard your footsteps approach him.

He placed his hands on the railing that separated the stands from the pit. “Hey, how ‘bout a match?”

Your eyes went wide. “Against you? I don’t have a death wish!”

Sett laughed. “I ain’t gonna kill ya. Besides, Inora would go crazy on me if I sent you back with a single scratch.”

“Is this some weird attempt to convince me to become a pit fighter?” you asked.

“Nah,” he replied. “You’re too hot when you fight. It’d be bad for business if I got hard every time my girl was on stage charrin’ some poor soul.”

“Sett!” you cried out, covering your face with your hands. Did he have no shame at all?

“C’mon, princess, it’ll be fun. I’ll even tie one hand behind my back,” he offered, sending you a confident grin before vaulting himself over the railing, easily landing on his feet despite the twenty foot drop.

You rushed to lean over the railing to see him staring up at you as if he hadn’t just jumped out of the stands when there were perfectly good staircases available. Inora was right, he really was such a show-off, especially as of late.

You reeled back slightly in surprise when he called your name, opening his arms wide in a gesture that left no room for misinterpretation.

“No, no way…” you said, before realizing that he definitely couldn’t hear your muttering from all the way down there and leaned forward again. “I’m not jumping down there! I’ll break my legs!”

“I’ll catch ya, stop worryin’!” he called back to you with a wide grin.

“This is dumb,” you said to yourself, finding it hard to refuse the big doofus’ request as you leaned over the railing to gage just how far the drop would be.

“Ain’t got all day, city girl!” Sett called up teasingly.

You felt like an idiot for even considering it, but you reluctantly put the bag of food down onto Sett’s fancy chair, not wanting it to get ruined by dropping it twenty feet along with you. This was dumb, but you knew that you would be fine. Sett was a lot to handle sometimes, but you were confident that he was worthy of your trust.

Keeping that thought at the forefront of your mind, you began to climb over the railing. You stood on the other side of the railing, still clinging to it to keep yourself from falling as you looked down to see Sett still in the same position just below you. Taking a deep breath, you counted to five before letting go of the railing and jumping off.

You were too scared to even scream as you fell, hoping you had aimed your jump correctly. As the ground came closer, you closed your eyes, too nervous to keep them open. Despite your worries, you were smoothly caught in Sett’s arms before you hit the ground.

You slowly opened your eyes to see Sett’s face just above your own, one eyebrow raised good naturedly as if to gently chastise you for ever having any doubts that he would catch you. You were set gently on the ground before you had a chance to say anything, and watched as Sett began to roll his shoulders back, stretching out the muscles in his arms.

You looked at him warily. “You really want to fight?”

“If I did, I’d have to charge ya,” he joked.

“Then what?” you countered, and watched as his expression darkened.

“I live a dangerous lifestyle, and it’s too late to try and hide that from ya like I do with ma,” he admitted. “And the scumbags in this town never rest. Bein’ associated with me is dangerous, and I wanna make sure anyone who thinks they can hurt you regrets even tryin’.”

You weren’t about to deny that your technical combat skills were as non-existent as they came. You owed the few victories you had seen in fights almost exclusively to luck, so learning some actual techniques would definitely be a benefit to you, especially if you had to deal with any more creeps ordering glassworks from you. You had been lucky that day that Sett had been there to rescue you, but he couldn’t always be there when you were in trouble.

“Okay,” you agreed. “What should I do?”

Sett turned, walking to the middle of the pit before turning back to you, his shoulders squared. “Come at me.”

He laughed at your incredulous look. “Relax, I won’t hurt ya. Just gonna block. Need to see what I’m workin’ with here.”

“It’s not gonna be much,” you muttered to yourself, reluctantly assuming what you hoped was a good fighting position, your arms up in a boxing stance.

Sett stayed silent as he stared you down, waiting for you to make a move. His stare unnerved you, and you desperately searched your brain for any possible strategies to use. You knew that this was to help you; Sett wasn’t expecting you to beat him or pull off any fancy combat maneuvers. But at the same time, you wanted to impress him. You wanted so badly for him to acknowledge you in an arena that he was abundantly skilled in. You would make it your mission to get the better of him just one time.

With that thought in your mind, you stalked towards him, looking for any possible weaknesses, but he was a brick wall, staunch and unmoving. You pushed yourself onward until you were within arm’s reach of him; wasting no time, you thrust your fist out to try and jab him in the stomach. Before you made contact, your fist was easily blocked, Sett’s fingers curling over your hand before he gently pushed you back.

“Try again,” he said, and you were surprised at the gentle undertones in his voice.

And so you did, this time aiming your fist at his arm, then aiming a kick at his side, both gently rebuffed by the large half-Vastayan. As your failed attacks continued to mount, you felt an inner drive to win emerge from deep inside you. But Sett was a very experienced pit fighter, as well as having more muscle on him than you could ever hope to achieve. You couldn’t hope to defeat him utterly, but the blank, appraising stare he continued to maintain in your direction really made you want to knock him on his ass.

You didn’t have to reinvent the wheel; you would just have to surprise him enough to gain even a moment’s advantage. All he had seen from you so far was your poorly-executed punches and kicks, but you still had one trick up your sleeve that you could only hope he wouldn’t see coming.

“No shame in admitting defeat,” Sett said with a grin. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

You ignored his words as you approached him, paying careful attention to seeming as innocent as possible, hoping that he thought you would be going in for another weak attack. And judging by his expression, he thought just that.

You threw a punch towards him, waiting until he moved his own arm to catch your first before you made your move. At once, you pulled your arm back upwards to direct flames straight at his face, while your other hand sent flames at his feet, making the ground underneath him unsteady.

As you had hoped, the shock of the fire licking at his face sent him reeling back, the unsteady ground underneath him causing him to stumble. Instead of giving him time to catch himself, you used the opportunity to dive at him, your added weight sending him crashing onto the ground, landing on his back with a grunt. You fell down with him, hands splayed on his chest and legs laid over his own.

You stared down at him with the haughtiest look you could manage. “No shame in admitting defeat,” you parroted back to him, unable to hold back your glee at getting the better of the experienced fighter.

Sett’s hand was at the back of your head almost instantly, pulling your face down for him to roughly lock your lips together. He was ruthless, and you couldn’t help a moan as his other hand massaged circles into your side. When he pulled away at last, you were left panting.

“You really don’t get just how hot you are when you go all out,” Sett said with a soft look in his eyes.

Sett shifted himself up, and you found yourself in his lap as he sat up, his arms still around you. You were relieved to see that you had held back properly; there were small beads of sweat from the heat of your fire on his neck and forehead, but the rest of his face showed no ill signs. It seemed that your guess was right; you were able to restrain your powers when you wanted them to be harmless to someone. You had suspected something like that after you had melted the group of thugs but left Sett unharmed.

You were excited that you had learned more about how your powers worked, but Sett didn’t seem to like being ignored for your thoughts. His hands on your waist leaned you backwards, and then before you could blink, you were pinned to the floor.

Sett had shifted entirely from work mode to play mode, it seemed. The stern, calculating look in his eyes was long gone, replaced by a twinkle of mischief that told you that he wasn’t done with you yet.

His body enveloped yours; he was so much bigger than you, easily able to cage your body thoroughly with his own. You suspected that your combat training was over for the day, as you doubted that this was a strategy he used with actual opponents in the pit.

You tried to struggle in his hold, but all that got you was Sett leaning further into you, caging your wrists together with one of his hands and supporting his weight with the other. You wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon if it was up to him, clearly.

You smiled up at him playfully. “How am I supposed to break out of this? You’re way too big for me to be able to do anything.”

His lips turned up in a sly grin. “You didn’t seem to mind me bein’ too big a few nights ago.”

“Sett!” You gaped at him, a shiver rushing down your spine at the reminder of that memory.

It was clear where his mind was going, and while you didn’t mind cutting the lesson short, the setting he had chosen was a little lacking.

“Sett,” you said matter-of-factly, and he hummed in response, leaning down to kiss at your neck. “Is a dirty pit floor really the most romantic location you could think of?”

His lips at your neck stilled and he pulled away with an exaggerated sigh. “It ain’t even that dirty. Arena gets cleaned between nights.”

Sett stood back up, taking your hand to pull you up to your feet as well. You looked around the sandy ground, reluctantly agreeing with Sett’s assertion when you didn’t notice any bloodstains, teeth, or anything else you would associate with a place where people were beat up on the regular. But still, your standards weren’t quite low enough to want to do anything with Sett here.

You squeaked in surprise as Sett picked you up and began to walk to the pit’s exit doors. “My office sound good to ya?”

“I can walk, you know…” you protested weakly as Sett walked through the empty backstage area, turning to head down the hallway.

“Try sayin’ that again after I’m done with ya,” he replied smoothly as he shifted your body towards one of his arms, reaching out with the other one to open the door he had stopped in front of.

You hadn’t really gotten a good look at the room Sett had been in before, but you could easily tell that this room was much bigger. There was a large wooden desk at the center of the room, a bigger-than-average chair behind it, likely to accommodate Sett’s large frame. The floor was covered by a large burgundy rug that led up to where the desk was, and several smaller chairs sat in front of the desk, which you assumed was for visitors to his office.

Sett didn’t stop at the desk, instead walking past it and up to a lone door at the back of the room, gently kicking it open and walking through. The adjoining room was much smaller, with just enough room for a decently-sized backless couch.

“It’s a lot of work to run this damn place,” Sett said as he set you down on the couch. “Got this for when I don’t got enough time to go home and sleep.”

Before you could ask how often it was that he slept here, he was on you again, body pressing you back into the couch. You relaxed into the couch as he kissed you, realizing that you had missed him more than you thought despite the short time you had been apart.

You reached a hand up to trail your nails along one of his soft ears and then card through his hair, receiving a pleased rumble from deep in his chest against your lips in reply. Your other hand rested at the side of his neck as your tongues met, desperately trying to anchor yourself to him so you wouldn’t fall off of the couch.

Sett pulled back just as you were starting to feel a little too breathless. You were left confused as he backed off of the couch entirely, instead getting to his knees in front of it.

You yelped in surprise as he grabbed you by your ankles, twisting your body around so that you were facing him feet first. You watched him warily as he removed your shoes, gently tossing them aside. You had thought maybe this was his odd way of offering a foot massage or something until he reached up to your hips and began to pull your pants down your legs, his fingers hooked into your underwear as well to bring all the clothing from your lower half down and off your legs.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he tossed the clothes to the side to join your shoes. You wanted to squirm away from him and his probing gaze, but his large hands were on your knees, keeping your legs spread apart.

You felt shyness creep up on you, feeling very exposed, but one look at Sett’s happy grin momentarily distracted you. You still weren’t really sure what he was doing, but his adoring gaze was somehow making you feel even more self-conscious.

“Ya know, you’re not half bad in a fight,” Sett said, his hands moving from your knees up to your hips, pulling you forward until your ass was right at the edge of the couch, Sett on the ground between your legs. “And you came here just t’ surprise me. Let me give my girl a little reward, ‘kay?”

You were so stunned by what he was implying that all you could do was blush as he lifted your lower half up by your thighs. “Legs around my shoulders, princess.”

There was no way that you could pretend that you didn’t know what his intentions were at this point, so you steeled your nerves and allowed your legs to be moved over his shoulders. As soon as you were more or less secured in place, Sett dove forward, his hands under your ass to lift your lower body further towards his face before his mouth was on you.

You cried out, leaning your upper body back onto the couch as Sett’s tongue flicked against your clit. Your eyes fluttered closed as he moved onwards, grazing your clit gently with his teeth before licking along your folds. His motions easily betrayed his eagerness as his hot breath washed over your most sensitive areas before he darted his tongue inside you as you squirmed around, unable to keep your moans and cries from bubbling up from your throat as he ate you out.

Your breath hitched as Sett’s tongue pressed even deeper inside you, his teeth gently nudging against your skin. He was relentless, and it was all you could do to writhe against the couch, nails digging into the soft material as Sett moved back to suck at your clit. You knew that you couldn’t hang on much longer, crying out Sett’s name in a breathy voice as the pleasure you were feeling crested to a peak.

Sett pulled away just as you felt overstimulation creeping up on you. You were left panting as you laid there, opening your eyes at last to see Sett staring at you, looking especially proud of himself.

“Feelin’ good, baby?” he asked with a toothy grin.

“Yeah…” you admitted shyly.

“Hope you’re ready to feel even better,” he said, standing up.

When he just stood there, staring inquisitively at you, you realized that he was looking for approval from you to do what he clearly wanted to do next. You sat up slowly, legs feeling like jelly. You brushed some loose strands of hair behind your ear before bringing your hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head along with your bra. You felt an immediate surge of confidence as Sett’s attention was immediately drawn to your breasts, and with how tight his pants were, it was easy for you to see just how turned on he was.

“Just wanna be inside you already,” he said as he reached down to unzip his pants. “You’re too hot for your own good.”

Sett hastily removed his own clothing, uncaring to where it landed in his urgency to get naked. Turning his attention back to you, he lifted you easily, sitting down on the couch and placing you in his lap.

You leaned into him, reaching a hand up to stroke his ears, smiling happily as he closed his eyes at your touch. The fur of his ears was as soft as ever; it felt like you were petting a cat. A large, half-Noxian cat. Probably a bad train of thought to get distracted by in a moment like this, but his adorable ears were just so out of place with his otherwise-intimidating exterior.

“’Nuff of that,” Sett said, his voice sounding strained, hips rolling up against yours in an effort to remind you of his still very hard cock that was currently pressed up against your stomach.

You weren’t about to deny him a release, especially with how bad you wanted this too. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you lifted yourself up slightly, just enough to be able to grasp his cock so you could sink down onto him.

Sett’s eyes stayed locked with yours, his jaw clenching just a bit as you sunk down onto him, his large hands gripping your waist as your hips met. His eyes were dark with want as he lifted you up slightly before bringing you back down onto him, the growl he let out at the feeling making you dizzy with need for him.

Sett had boundless energy, his motions not wavering for an instant. As you both got closer and closer, he insistently sought your lips, catching them with his own every time he brought you back down. You kissed him back as well as you could with how overwhelmed you currently were, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to focus on every sensation you were experiencing as one.

He brought you down onto him more and more harshly, bucking his hips up to meet your own. Eventually, even Sett was too overwhelmed to focus on kissing you, groaning your name as he came, pulling you tightly against him. His lips pressed against your neck as he rutted gently against you, his fingers rubbing at your clit for the few moments more that it took for you to join him over the edge.

You were panting from exertion as Sett rested his forehead against yours. “Glad you came out t’ the pit.”

His words helped clear the post-sex fog from your mind, and you shook your head quickly as you remembered why it was you had come to see him. You jolted up, and would have fell over if it hadn’t been for Sett’s hands keeping you steady astride his lap.

“Woah, what–”

“The cabbage rolls!” you interrupted him. “I left them back in the stands.”

Sett gripped your chin and turned your face back towards his, raising an eyebrow at you. “Cabbage rolls?” he asked playfully.

“Oh.” You were a little embarrassed to be caught in your own world right in front of him. “I told Ciorah I wanted to surprise you at work and she helped me make some cabbage rolls since she said they were your favorite.”

Sett’s grin was dazzling as he leaned in for a chaste kiss. “You tryin’ to bribe me?”

“Bribe you for what?” you replied teasingly. “I don’t need to bribe you to beat you in a fight if you recall half an hour ago.”

“Oh yeah?” Sett replied lowly, a challenge glowing in his eyes. “You sayin’ you want a rematch?”

Sett picked you up before you could reply, and you hastily grabbed at his biceps to keep yourself steady. “Sett, what–”

He shrugged in response, poorly feigning innocence. “Hey, you’re the one startin’ things with me. The boss’s gotta defend his title.”

“Not while we’re naked!” you protested, wriggling in his hold. “Ryo could–”

Sett sighed in mock annoyance. “Can’t make up her mind.”

“What? But you were the one who suddenly…” you trailed off indignantly.

“Just wanted to tease ya,” he replied with a laugh. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the faces you make.”

He turned back to the couch, setting you back down on it before bending down to pick up his discarded pants. He pulled them on, zipping them most of the way up before turning his attention back to you.

“I should visit you at work next time,” he suggested.

You fixed him with an unimpressed look. “Last time you were at my work, you grabbed my butt in front of my boss!”

Sett laughed loudly in response. “I’ll do it when she’s not lookin’ next time.”

He was not quite fast enough to dodge the shoe you threw at his head.

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift appears to be waging war over the serial resale of her old master recordings on two fronts. She recently confirmed that she is already underway in the process of re-recording the six albums she made for the Big Machine label, in order to steer her fans (and sync licensing execs) toward the coming alternate versions she’ll control. But now that she’s followed the surprise release of “Folklore” with the very, very surprise release of “Evermore” less than five months later, the thought may occur: If she keeps up this pace, she may have more new albums out on the Republic label than she ever did on Big Machine in a quarter of the time. Flooding the zone to further crowd out the oldies is unlikely to be Swift’s real motivation for giving the world a full-blown “Folklore” sequel this instantaneously: As motivations for prolific activity go, relieving and sublimating quarantine pressure is probably even better than revenge. Anyway, this is not a gift horse to be looked in the mouth. “Evermore,” like its mid-pandemic predecessor, feels like something that’s been labored over — in the best possible way — for years, not something that was written and recorded beginning in August, with the bow said to be put on it only about a week ago. Albums don’t get graded on a curve for how hastily they came together, or shouldn’t be, but this one doesn’t need the handicap. It’d be a jewel even if it’d been in progress forevermore and a day.The closest analog for the relation the new album bears to its predecessor might be one that’d seem ancient to much of Swift’s audience: U2 following “Achtung Baby” with “Zooropa” while still touring behind the previous album. It’s hard to remember now that a whole year and a half separated those two related projects; In that very different era, it seemed like a ridiculously fast follow-up. But the real comparison lies in how U2, having been rewarded for making a pretty gutsy change of pace with “Achtung,” seemed to say: You’re okay with a little experimentation? Let’s see how you like it when we really boil things down to our least commercial impulses, then — while we’ve still got you in the mood.Swift isn’t going avant-garde with “Evermore.” If anything, she’s just stripping things down to even more of an acoustic core, so that the new album often sounds like the folk record that the title of the previous one promised — albeit with nearly subliminal layers of Mellotrons, flutes, French horns and cellos that are so well embedded beneath the profuse finger-picking, you probably won’t notice them till you scour the credits. But it’s taking the risk of “Folklore” one step further by not even offering such an obvious banger (irony intended) as “Cardigan.” Aaron Dessner of the National produced or co-produced about two-thirds of the last record, but he’s on 14 out of 15 tracks here (Jack Antonoff gets the remaining spot), and so the new album is even more all of a piece with his arpeggiated chamber-pop impulses, Warmth amid iciness is a recurring lyrical motif here, and kind of a musical one, too, as Swift’s still increasingly agile vocal acting breathes heat into arrangements that might otherwise seem pretty controlled. At one point Swift sings, “Hey, December, I’m feeling unmoored,” like a woman who might even know she’s going to put her album out a couple of weeks before Christmas. It’s a wintry record — suitable for double-cardigan wearing! — and if you’re among the 99% who have been feeling unmoored, too, then perhaps you are Ready For It. Swift said in announcing the album that she was moving further into fiction songwriting after finding out it was a good fit on much of “Folklore,” a probably inevitable move for someone who’s turning 31 in a few days and appears to have a fairly settled personal life. Which is not to say that there aren’t scores to settle, and a few intriguing tracks whose real-life associations will be speculated upon. But just as the “Betty”/”August” love triangle of mid-year established that modern pop’s most celebrated confessional writer can just make shit up, too, so, here, do we get the narrator of “Dorothea,” a honey in Tupelo who is telling a childhood friend who moved away and became famous that she’s always welcome back in her hometown. (Swift may be doing a bit of empathic wondering in a couple of tracks here how it feels to be at the other end of the telescope.) One time the album takes a turn away from rumination into a pure spirit of fun — while getting dark anyway — is “No Body, No Crime,” a spirited double-murder ballad that may have more than a little inspiration in “Goodbye, Earl.” Since Swift already used the Dixie Chicks for background vocals two albums ago, for this one she brings in two of the sisters from Haim, Danielle and Este, and even uses the latter’s name for one of the characters. Yes, the rock band Haim’s featured appearance is on the only really country-sounding song on the record… there’s one you didn’t see coming, in the 16 hours you had to wonder about it. Yet there are also a handful of songs that clearly represent a Swiftian state of mind. At least, it’s easy to suppose that the love songs that opens the album, “Willow,” is a cousin to the previous record’s “Invisible String” and “Peace,” even if it doesn’t offer quite as many clearly corroborating details about her current relationship as those did. On the sadder side, Swift is apparently determined to run through her entire family tree for heartrending material. On “Lover,” she sang for her stricken mother; on “Folklore,” for her grandfather in wartime. In that tradition the new album offers “Marjorie,” about the beloved grandmother she lost in 2003, when she was 13. (The lyric videos that are being offered online mostly offer static visual loops, but the one for “Marjorie” is an exception, reviving a wealth of stills and home-movie footage of Grandma, who was quite a looker in a miniskirt in her day.) Rue is not something Swift is afraid of here anymore than anywhere else, as she sings, “I should’ve asked you questions / I should’ve asked you how to be / Asked you to write it down for me / Should’ve kept every grocery store receipt / ‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me,” lines that will leave a dry eye only in houses that have never known death. The piece de resistance in its poignance is Swift actually resurrecting faint audio clips of Marjorie, who was an opera singer back in the day. It’s almost like ELO’s “Rockaria,” played for weeping instead of a laugh. Swift has not given up, thank God, on the medium that brought her to the dance — the breakup song — but most of them here have more to do with dimming memories and the search for forgiveness, however slowly and incompletely achieved, than feist. But doesn’t Swift know that we like her when she’s angry? She does, and so she delves deep into something like venom just once, but it’s a good one. The ire in “Closure,” a pulsating song about an unwelcome “we can still be friends, right?” letter from an ex, seems so fresh and close to the surface that it would be reasonable to speculate that it is not about a romantic relationship at all, but a professional one she has no intention of ever recalling in a sweet light. Or maybe she does harbor that a disdain for an actual former love with that machinelike a level of intensity. What “Evermore” is full of is narratives that, like the music that accompanies them, really come into focus on second or third listen, usually because of a detail or two that turns her sometimes impressionistic modes completely vivid. “Champagne Problems” is a superb example of her abilities as a storyteller who doesn’t always tell all: She’s playing the role of a woman who quickly ruins a relationship by balking at a marriage proposal the guy had assumed was an easy enough yes that he’d tipped off his nearby family. “Sometimes you just don’t know the answer ‘ Til someone’s on their knees and asks you / ‘She would’ve made such a lovely bride / What a shame she’s fucked in the head’ / They said / But you’ll find the real thing instead / She’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.” (Swift has doubled the F-bomb quotient this time around, among other expletives, for anyone who may be wondering whether there’s rough wordplay amid Dessner’s delicacy — that would an effing yes.) “‘Tis the Damn Season,” representing a gentler expletive, gives us a character who is willing to settle, or at least share a Christmas-time bed with an ex back in the hometown, till something better comes along. The pleasures here are shared, though not many more fellow artists have broken into her quarantine bubble this time around. Besides Haim’s cameo, Marcus Mumford offers a lovely harmony vocal on “Cowboy Like Me,” which might count as the other country song on the album, and even throws in something Swift never much favored in her Nashville days, a bit of lap steel. Its tale of male and female grifters meeting and maybe — maybe — falling in love is really more determinedly Western than C&W, per se, though. The National itself, as a group, finally gets featured billing on “Coney Island,” with Matt Berninger taking a duet vocal on a track that recalls the previous album’s celebrated Bon Iver collaboration “Exile,” with ex-lovers taking quiet turns deciding who was to blame. (Swift saves the rare laugh line for herself: “We were like the mall before the internet / It was the one place to be.) Don’t worry, legions of new Bon Iver fans: Dessner has not kicked Justin Vernon out of his inner circle just to make room for Berninger. The Bon Iver frontman whose appearance on “Folklore” came as a bit of a shock to some of his fan base actually makes several appearances on this album, and the one that gets him elevated to featured status again, as a duet, the closing “Evermore,” is different from “Exile” in two key ways. Vernon gets to sing in his high register… and he gets the girl. As it turned out, the year 2020 did not involve any such waiting for Swift fans; it’s an embarrassment of stunning albums-ending-in-“ore” that she’s mined out of a locked-down muse.

[pridewon]

@pontevoix​​​ said:  beep ft tsukishima! cha u know i'm always ready to slide in your dms (texts prompts) 3. a scared text && 21. a long text.

The Sendai Frogs take home yet another victory. Tadashi reads the tweet with a smile sported on his face, a twinge of pride in his chest as the bus carries him from his workplace back to his apartment complex. What a game it had been; two days prior, a battle hard fought and hard won, familiar old faces flying and soaring across the court as he looked on from the bleachers; none, obviously, better or more impressive than his childhood friend. 

Tadashi puts his phone down on his lap and lets his head roll against the window. It’s nice, having those games to look forward to. It’s even better, getting to see Tsukki flourish and succeed where he had, for so long, tried to not even consider the possibility that he could. It’s great news, he thinks; it’s everything he had ever wished for for the person he doesn’t shy away (too much) from saying is the most important in his life (always has been, to various degrees, in different capacities) (including some he will keep to himself, for both their sakes). 

But sometimes... just sometimes. It worries him. Just a little bit. Because he knows it’s stupid, and selfish, and there is little that Tadashi hates more than catching himself indulging in those moments of weakness. 

Ding! His phone summons his attention once again, and Tadashi blinks as he deciphers the writing on the screen - oh, speak of the devil... A quick glance at his watch confirms that practice must be over; meaning Tsukki now resumes they irregular, yet constant exchanges (sometimes real conversations, more often a lost thought that doesn’t call for a response - they’ve always been better with voice and the chance to scrutinise each other). 

Uh-oh. He must have slipped. Something in another text must have tipped him off to Tsukki, because Tsukki uncharacteristically (and very characteristically) leaves him with a simple and dry ‘what’s wrong?’. Crap. Tadashi stares at is phone, hesitates a minute longer; and slowly, ater three redone attempts, finally sends out:

[Tsukki  🌙 - 19:36] Well, before I say anything, let me preface by saying: it’s lame. Like, really lame.

(He can hear the eye roll from here). Tadashi’s fingers hover over the keyboard, lungs dipping to take a much-needed breath - constricted, uncomfortable. Absent-mindedly, he rubs a hand over his chest and starts typing.

[Tsukki  🌙 - 19:38] I’ve just been thinking a lot recently. About what I’m doing with my life, my job, where I’m going to be in the next five, ten years, this kind of stuff. Seeing everyone be so successful, doing what they love, it’s awesome. I just don’t feel like I’m at the same level. And you’re going to hate me saying this (^_^) but watching you play the other day, made me even more conscious of it. It’s stupid, I know! But sometimes, I can’t help but feel like the first year left on the bench again. While you’re going places where I can’t catch up or go with you. 

Tadashi reads his text once, twice; and decides to press send before the thumping in his chest makes him change his mind, delete the whole thing, and replace it with a video of a cat (yes, he has been foudn guilty of doing it before) (needless to say, new levels of lameness). But he didn’t delete the whole thing, and he didn’t send a cat video instead. Tadashi holds back a sigh, swallows it back into his throat for it to curl up and die there, and clings to his phone without looking at it; resisting the urge to check if Tsukki has read the message, of imagining the face he might be doing. 

They have always moved at different paces. When one would slow down, the other would march forward and blaze a trail for the other to eventually follow behind. They always meet again, eventually; go through different routes, only to re-join in the same places. Oddly enough (or not) it is an assurance Tadashi only believes to be true when Tsukki is the one stumbling in the dark (hasn’t he always waited for him; turned around to see where he stopped, grabbed at his shirt to pull him up?). 

Now he is the one fumbling around again, a confused, worried little thing without a place to call his own; wondering if this time, he’ll reach for the back of Tsukki’s shirt, and his fingers will close on nothing. It’s silly. It’s lame. It’s the question he’s asking him without asking it. 

If you run up ahead, please don’t leave me behind?

[yanderecandystore]

Rip Tumblr D-do you have any dragon ocs that might kidnap their s/o? Also I know that this is a stupid question but can I call myself Cold anon? ;-;

Hello 🍨 Cold ❄️!! I'm really glad you sent me this request!

 The current app that I use for writing is bugging out a lot, so I'm sorry if there are many grammar errors and mistakes here and there.

 And uh... Cold? I think I fucked up your ask? I think I got a little too excited and went in a different direction?? If you don't like it I understand, I could always do another one 😳😋

 TW/Tags: Guess who is being an emotional ball once again?? Me! Yey! Send help! // look, I'm sorry but, low-key? This is edginess overload lol (medieval bitch times, which by that I mean: dark times with terrible people in it) // deaths // abuse of power // Reader said: eat the rich // non-binary reader just because // cursing // slight plot twist? But, like, bad plot twist // soft dragon boi 

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

You curious little thing - [Yandere!Dragon x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

" Deep in the forest, up in the mountains, legend says that a dragon sleeps deep within the caves. And as the old story goes, gold awaits inside his domain, but only those courageous enough to enter the deep cave and defeat the dragon, would be able to take the creature's treasure.

Many have persuaded the quest of defeating said dragon, yet no one ever came back to tell the story.

And while you sit at the comfort of your small cottage reading about the old tales of the dragon's cave, you can't help but consider the story to be just that, a story. A piece of fiction made to scare the local children away from the mountains, or to enchant those that were easily invested into these types of stories.

It seems like you're one of those that were fascinated by the old tales. Regardless of if you find it true or not. The old tales still hold a mysterious charm that manages to keep you intrigued no matter what age you re-read them.

Tales of the forest spirits protecting their land with mischievous wit, tales of monsters that crawled out of your bed to cause nightmares on the simple minded, tales of mighty dragons who could easily rule the world if they so pleased to.

Yet they didn't. Either because they didn't want to, or maybe they really didn't exist. Who knows, right [Y/N]? Not that you, a simple commoner, would know any better.

Although, from the tales you read, isn't always the common folk the ones to first encounter these things?

It always ends bad, but still.

A commoner would be the first one to be affected by the wrath of such supernatural creatures.

However, as stated before, there is no way of knowing if such a thing is real or not, right? It's been eons since the last time someone even mentioned a dragon's presence in your kingdom, and it's been centuries that the concepts of dragons had fallen into the mythological category.

There hasn't been a single person to mention the beast's names in years. There was no visible way of them being remotely real, right? That sounded absurd.

But of course, like all tales are written, your's seem to have reached the beginning of your own personal adventure when the king mentioned the need of soldiers willing to face the beast inside the cave, who was presumably hibernating throughout this whole time.

And of course, the public had only laughed at this sort of news. You see, your king's authority over the entire land has been dangling by a thin thread. The taxes, the frauds, the imminent wars threatening to occur at any second now, has helped a small portion of people to start questioning if not downright rebelling against him and his reign of terror.

The revolution was rising slowly, yet something needed to push it forward, the straw that broke the camel's back.

"What could it be?" You might be wondering.

How about kidnapping and force recruitment with the help of blackmailing? Specifically targeting the poorest people in the kingdom and taking their family members hostage if they don't comply?

Sounds so evil that you may think it's bullshit right? So inhumane, that the villain of this story might as well be your crazy king, right?

Oh, [Y/N]. You're absolutely right, yet a little bit wrong considering that even if such an evil act sounds absurd, it's absolutely real. It's part of your reality now.

And even if your king is a vile creature of pure hatred and deserves to be fed to the rats, by being a terrible ruler, husband, and father- You were soon about to learn that there are worse, more powerful forces that can easily overpower the insanity of that sad, pathetic evil man.

To your dismay, your family was one of the chosen ones to suffer from this. Because of poverty, you and your father lived in the outskirts of the kingdom. It was perfect for the king and his soldiers, as you and your father lived distant from the main town, if any of you two ever die on the process of going into the beast's cave, or disobey the king's orders, no one would notice if you two were suddenly wiped from the face of the Earth.

And of course, holding hostage just one person was easier than multiple family members. Although your king was absolutely insane if not completely psychotic, you could at least understand how he moved his pieces in this massive game of chess.

I mean, yes, you understand his reasoning. Still doesn't mean he is right.

Soldiers didn't wait too long to show up and try to force your father to go with them. But you didn't take none of that, you wouldn't let your dying father be taken by them.

You screamed, you shout, you let venom spill out of your mouth by each profanity you threw at the soldiers and the king they claimed to serve. It didn't take long before the general noticed that you were one of the rascals forming a rebellion. Well, you didn't really need to be officially part of the revolution, just disagreeing was enough to make the general decide to take you instead of your old father.

You can still remember how he was trying to scream his lungs out, to stop the soldiers somehow.

This was it, right? The day, for you and possibly all these other commoners to die in the name of an asshole. How honoring.

Among you and other miserably unlucky individuals, there were all kinds of different people. From innocent, to criminals. From young to old, from poor to… Well, mildly not as poor. Nobles would never be subjected to this, you know that. All of these individuals were carried away by a carriage. All crammed into one little vehicle, away from the public sight.

After being far enough from the town and now deep within the forest, the soldiers commanded all of you to get out of the carriage as now you'll begin to walk straight to the mountain while carrying… Gold?

"- It's a gift from the king. Survive long enough, and you'll be able to take it with you." The general said, his tone being condescending as ever.

You could…. Technically run away, right now. They haven't really put any restrains in any of you-

"- Over there!" A soldier alerted the general, who looked little surprised by seeing two of your group running away with the gold in hands.

Without hesitation, or even a slight hint of empathy, the general shot both with his crossbow. Their bodies fall flat in the forest ground, with all that gold and jewelry accompanying them. All that gold being wasted and left behind, just like the bodies of the people carrying them.

You felt sick, the need to vomit was surfacing through your stomach. This- This is terrible!? This is so cruel! How can they continue to walk like nothing happened??

God, how did a once prospering kingdom has now fallen in such a low pit?

As you can imagine, the walk was torturous and it felt like it was going forever. Of course, a lot of questions were emerging about the strange situation.

One: how did the king know and was certain that the myth of the dragon was real and that the dragon was awake?

Two: why didn't he call his own army to attend to such issues instead of the common folk being forced to go with his wishes?

Actually, now that you think about it, why are there so few skilled, trained soldiers taking a bunch of people to a cave unprepared?

Carrying a bunch of gold for fucks sake, this stuff is heavy!

If it was truly a gift from the king to your group, then why were you obligated to carry it all the way to the cave? Sounds unreasonable and if anything, absolutely ridiculous. It would only slow your group down, and for what?!

Sounds like a trap to be…. Honest. Wait a minute-

"- Shit!" You whisper to yourself at the sudden realization that you're fucked, which unfortunately, caused a soldier that was near you to hear it.

"- Nothing sir, I just stabbed my foot in a rock." You weren't lying though. This whole walk bullshit your doing has destroyed your low quality sandals, and now you could basically feel the ground stabbing you every time you stept.

The soldier just grunted at you, and as much as you wished to take his sword and shove it up his bum, you couldn't help but go back to your original train of thought before you got interrupted.

You were going straight to death right? You're not supposed to fight a dragon, but rather serve as an offering?? What?!

You can't even speak or alert your fellow companions in any way. The last three people that have spoken without being directed to, were shot in the head.

The realization has sadly come in too late for you to make any plans now, as you forward as your group walk upwards, following the mountain's trail, you find yourself facing not only the entrance to a presumably dangerous cave infested with predators, but also the gates to your inevitable death.

You would now have to think of how to escape the soldiers and their arrows, or how to possibly make your death less painful. Being eaten by a dragon doesn't sound really fun.

When entering the cave you're met with more-

"- Are you fucking kidding me?!" Someone screamed, while easily accepting their death.

You couldn't help but agree with the person. While entering the cave, you're met with a great ravine, going in a spiral fashion deeper into the cave.

In other words, you have not only walked all the way up to a fucking mountain, but you would now need to get down into a creepy cave.

You almost considered asking for some eternal peace before remembering that your father's life was still in line. You just… Don't want to go away like this, you don't want your father to go like this.

And once again your group, that was now a lot shorter due to the amount of deaths along the way, was now following the general once again. Only this time, the soldiers were behind all of you, probably to guarantee no one ran away. Too late for that now anyway, so why even bother?

You didn't realize how you were on the very front of everyone, side by side with the man that was leading you to your doom.

You felt his eyes fall into your form a couple of times, but he never really turned his face to look at you. After a long silence of just a bunch of miserable people stepping closer to a terrible plan that was not well thought-out, he said:

"- You know it already. Right?" His voice was rough and still held the nonchalant tone that was written all over his face. You doubt this man could have ever smiled once in his life.

You almost choked with your own breathing, the nerve of this man! You couldn't help but let out the only thing you have wanted to say this whole time:

"- I hate you." You say as your eyes start to become a little watery. The feeling of desperation was eating you up ever since you entered the carriage, but only now you felt how bad the teeth of despair hurt.

"- I know kid. Me too." He responded, his tone never changed, even while saying that.

You guess he didn't really appreciate his job as much as you thought he did. Yet, you couldn't find in your heart to pity the man, as he was complicit in all of this mess. But I guess, you do hope for this man to find some sort of redemption, either presently or in his after life.

You still think he did a lot of bad things of course, his crimes are probably never gonna be forgiven. But just because of that, it didn't mean he couldn't start to do some good actions now, not for the sake of finding inner forgiveness, but for the sake of others. For the sake of the innocent people being not only met with unfair treatment, but also being ruled by a psychotic tyrant who is a complete imbecile. No wonder the queen and his son were missing for so long, you would probably have run away if you were them too.

When finally coming down, with your feet now hurting like a bitch, you can find some time for yourself to appreciate the beauty of this place.

You know, before you lose your head? To a freaking dragon??

Honestly, you at least hope that the stories you read were true, because holy fuck- Imagine how exhausted your body is from walking for what it feels like an eternity, holding jewelry made with gold, only to find an empty cave?

Then you would be able to go feral kill one or two soldiers before getting your ass beaten. As you don't have enough reason to just do that right now, right?

You expected to be met with disappointment, but what you truly saw while finally getting into the dragon's territory, you were able to not only feel enchanted by the magnitude of these treasure places, but also forget the danger of the situation, as you look around and remember the tales you read.

This is so much better than what you have imagined it to be like. It's… Mesmerising! It 's beautiful! The underground pond, the glowing crystals, the pile of gold, the stolen statues of the great warriors of your kingdom, golden weapons all scattered across the floor, the white feathered looking dragon staring down at you from his nest, that little tea set that is really cute and fragile yet it probably cost way more than your house, your clothes, and all of your furniture all together.

Oh no wait-

"- We came with what you asked for, Artemio." Said the general fast walking his way to be in between you and the beast.

To say you were freaking out would be an understatement. You knew dragons were huge, but you didn't expect it to be so… Huge! You know??

Oh my God, you're dead-

You looked around to see only you, your group of commoners ready to be probably eaten, and the general. And while looking for the soldiers, you noticed them trying to close the opening with a man built gate, created to keep the beast.

But obviously, that gate looks absolutely ridiculous, there is no way this guy couldn't destroy it by simply slapping it. It's quite laughable, yet…

You feel this is not just a coincidence or a bad made joke. You have a feeling they know the gate is essentially useless. It was really old, so, clearly this has been going on from quite some time.

Has… Has your kingdom been doing this for centuries?? Bringing offerings to please the dragon and beg it to sleep for more centuries to come?

"- This is absolute bullshit!" You screamed, not noticing how your heart was racing and your breathing had started to become frantic. You were panicking while coming to terms with the fact that your whole world was collapsing in front of your eyes. Your scream clearly surprised your fellow companions, yet it didn't surprise the dragon or the general.

The dragon had, well, a dragon face, so you have no idea what it was thinking, and the general was still with the same non-expressive face since the beginning of this stupid trip!

"- What?! You have nothing to say?? You brought us here to die, at least say something, you coward!" You were fuming with rage. How can a person like this be so annoying even when he is not saying anything.

He looks at you with an understanding expression, yet you don't think about what it could mean as you reach to one of the many golden weapons spread around across the floor. They were heavy and quite frankly completely useless, yet you still hold into that golden sword like your life depended on it.

And it did, actually.

Have you gone insane or just completely blind with rage and the instinct of survival? You're not sure just yet, but you'll lose your last bit of sanity to stand your ground.

You aren't going down without a fight.

"- Come at me, you big bird!" You yelled, looking kinda epic and kinda goofy at the same time. You probably shouldn't insult a dragon who hasn't decided who he'll first, it may change his appetite.

Before the general could interfere with your foolish behavior, the one and only had spoken:

"- Where exactly is what we had agreed on?" Like in true entitled brat fashion, Artemio asked the general while putting his head in his pawn.

"- We had to eliminate a couple of the troublemakers. In the end some of the gold was left behind in the progress-"

"- No, I mean, where truly is what I asked for? The jewelry is quite frankly ugly, the gold coins don't matter as I already have plenty, and none of these humans look really edible. Or well… Appetising." You could swear a pouty face was appearing in Artemio's face, yet only one thing had taken your attention. That's the reason why they needed so many disposable people? Oh… Wait a minute, did the dragon just call everyone here too ugly to eat?

"- If you can't compromise with your promises, then I think we'll have to change the deal-" Artemio started getting up from his nest, stretching out like a cat.

"- Oh, please no, can't you just-" The general panicked, thinking that the dragon would destroy the village.

"- I want that one." Artemio said. Pointing at you.

"- What?" You looked behind you just in case you were in the way of someone else. No, you weren't.

"- Uhn… What?" Oh look, even the general was confused as you, and well, the entire cast of people that were thrown in this hell hole.

"- Yes, that one holding the spear."

"- Just… That one, or-"

"- Just that one. And I won't get out of the cave for at least a century, I promise!" He sounds and acts like both a child and a cat, preparing himself to pounce on its prey any moment now.

"- ….. Okay then, fair enough. It's your problem now kid." He said, making a motion for all the other captives to follow him. Which they gladly did, because, you know, they aren't the protagonist of the story.

"- What?! You can't leave me here, you bastard!!" You screamed, although subconsciously you already knew his answer.

"- I think I'm just doing that!" He screamed from the other side of the cave, fuckz they really didn't waste no time at all, did they?

Sigh, who are you kidding? If you were one of them, you would have ran away as fast as you could. At least some gave you sympathetic looks before going back to their "freedom".

You heard the heavy gate closing. Well, shit. It's you and him now.

You tried going back into your original threatening stance, but before you could, you saw a glimpse of Artemio coming in at full speed, taking no time to jump at you. This is it [Y/N], send your last prayers to your father and your old life before-

Before he starts licking you... like a dog? What?

He pauses and you tense up, looking up and seeing a dragon powerful enough to destroy villages, looking at you like a precious little gift.

Artemio picks you up and hugs you in an almost bone breaking hug. Confused and frustrated with how the situation was going, you asked:

"- A-Aren't you going to kill me?" Yes, it was a pathetic question, if a dragon isn't killing you, then why ask it to do it??

"- I have been so lonely since the last human that I chose! I usually prefer to have many friends around but all of the other options seemed so boring, you know?" His voice is oddly cheerful and sweet to someone that sees humans as pets, or "friends". So… What is really going on here?

"- I thought you ate people." You said, still frustrated that you were betrayed and lied to through this entire day.

"- Well, I guess I can eat humans-" Says the giant bird-lizard acting like a child trying to lie about doing something wrong- "- But I really don't like doing it, I promise!"

"- I just wanted someone to play with, you know? All the dragons that I know are just so boring and take everything seriously." He huffed in annoyance.

"- Well… Do you-" You started questioning if you really want to to know the answer, but curiosity sure is killing this cat!- "- What happened to the other humans that were here?"

"- Oh, they… Uhn, they died, because of your shirt lifespan and all ya know." He responded.

"- Oh… Then why did the soldiers bring us here saying you were going to eat us?" Why not go full balls in and ask everything, right?

"- It's- Sigh, it's really embarrassing, but I didn't know any other way of how to ask for company down here." He said shyly, which only confirmed your suspicion of this being complete bullshit.

"- And you threaten to burn a whole kingdom just because of that?" You asked.

"- Yes!" He answered with no shame whatsoever. This guy was a dog wearing a dragon costume, you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"- Sigh, oh my God…"

"- Hey, uhn, what's your name?" Artemio spoke, he thought that he should also ask questions as he wants to be able to enjoy every second with his new pet.

"- It is [Y/N]. And you're Artemio, right?" You can't believe any of this, really. You went from an absolutely terrible life or death situation, to a… Well, you can't even tell what the hell is going on anymore!

"- [Y/N].... [Y/N]! [Y/N], that's such a good name!" The excited dragon repeated your name multiple times before interrupting your peace once again. You can't be mad at him, but-

Come on, you needed some time to accept everything that just went down. You didn't even notice you were on the floor until Artemio was in front of your view again.

"- [Y/N]!" He was so easy to please, that just saying your name was fun to him.

"- Sigh… Hey Artemio." You sighed as there was no way in hell this dragon would leave you to deal with this weird feeling of emptiness arising in your chest.

"- What do you want to do now?" He asked cheerfully, but not completely oblivious to your feelings of being abandoned underground with him by force.

You stayed silent for a second, again, trying to come with terms with this new lifestyle that you were subjected to. You technically could ask Artemio to open the gate, he doesn't seem to have any intention of hurting you. But who knows? He has a different point of view in this whole thing than you do.

Silence was taking over the cave, but not exactly an awkward silence, just… A comforting one.

The water dripped from the ceiling. You felt the ground underneath you shake a little as Artemio followed your "guidance". He decided to lay on his back near you.

He wasn't really doing any self reflection at all, he just wanted to join in with you, yet all he could think is how happy he is to have someone else to spend time with.

You may only see him slightly from the corner of your eyes, yet you still feel a little, strange, by seeing a dragon mimic your ways.

You don't feel nessecerally homesick, but you do miss your father. You absolutely hate the idea of coming back to the kingdom, but… If you could see your father one last time, and probably help him with the gold that is in this place….

Maybe you could even-!.....

"- Artemio."

"- Yes, [Y/N]!*

"- AAH!" He turned himself to meet your face so fast that you whimpered because of his sudden motion.

He was going to check if you were okay, but you stopped him showing that you were fine, just a little spooked.

"- Hey, Artemio-" You said again, as you were still reformulating your question in your head-

"- Do you know how to burn an entire castle?"

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[tossawary]

Chapter 19: “Weddings and Funerals” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” random favorite lines with commentary because I’m doing a re-read. Not a full list or full commentary. 

-

 When Shang Qinghua told Mobei-Jun that he didn’t need Shen Qingqiu assassinated, it wasn’t because he thought everything would somehow work out if he just sat back and didn’t do anything. It definitely wasn’t because he was planning a so-called “perfect murder” and didn’t want the demon lord messing up his plans. The Problem of Shen Qingqiu has always been a lot more  complicated than “just get rid of the guy potentially making my nephew’s life a living hell”. That’s why it’s a real problem! 

- 

AN: Shang Qinghua’s thought process: “Can this problem be solved by: 

A) Waiting for the problem to go away? 

B) Murder? 

C) None of the above? 

If the answer is C... 

Fuck, it’s a real problem.” 

- 

 Shang Qinghua thinks that might actually be possible, though he’d have to do some research and smack his head until his Author God memories hopped into line. He thinks that the youth-restoration procedure would probably do the job, but he also thinks that Shen Qingqiu would probably rather be dead than be physically sixteen again or something (super fucking understandable) and have to start the cultivation process over from scratch (ah, that would be so annoying and embarrassing). 

- 

AN: Given that I actually invented a de-aging potion for this fic (if one that’s difficult to put together), the AU of “Original Shen Qingqiu is physically 16 again” has been rattling around inside my head ever since I wrote these lines. Shen Qingqiu was like, “Wait, let me picture how unbearably overprotective Yue Qingyuan would be... hmm... no, I’ll just stay like this.” 

- 

 Luo Jiahui seems a little anxious about the empty spaces at the table, but she fills the space as best she can by chattering about assorted restaurant business. At least until she abruptly takes a deep breath and says, “Hua-Ge, I have something to tell you.” 

 Shang Qinghua freezes in the middle of taking a drink. His unhelpful brain immediately races to guess the worst possible conversational subjects. His sister-in-law has somehow figured out that he’s a transmigrator?! His sister-in-law has decided that her son is not going to the Demon Realm under any circumstances?! His sister-in-law knows Binghe better than he does and has realized that the young protagonist is being abused after all?! Oh,  fuck, what is it? 

 “I’m getting married!” Luo Jiahui announces, breathlessly. 

 “Oh,” Shang Qinghua says, heart rate going at the speed of sound. “Wait,  what?” 

- 

AN: This chapter is why I didn’t go into the details of LJH/LQG in the last chapter, immediately post-timeskip. I wanted to blindside everyone with an “Oh, it’s THAT serious?!” moment. The last chapter established that “SQH is handling things”, then this chapter establishes that, as the plot goes on, “SQH is only barely handling things”. Which helps prep the following breakdown with the System World Update in chapters 20-22. 

- 

 “You didn’t have any time for yourself,” Shang Qinghua agrees, following this conversation of very obvious things that he already knew so far. He didn’t have any time for himself back then either, between organizing a conference and finding a cure on top of the usual day-in-day-out of the sect. “You did a really good job looking after them all by yourself!” 

 “They don’t always agree with that,” Luo Jiahui says, smiling but self-deprecating. 

 “Aha, well, they’re young.” 

 The disagreements of what was best for the children is why Shang Qinghua really had to get Fanli (who didn’t see herself as a child) out of the house by any means necessary. He was at a bit of a loss at how else to help. She was never part of  Proud Immortal Demon Way! Not even as a fragment of backstory mentioned in passing! Shang Qinghua struggles to compensate for these extra people who were never characters sometimes. 

 “Qingge was very understanding,” Luo Jiahui says. “But… well… then Fanli was gone and I had the restaurant keeping me busy, but that was all my own choice… and what good was waiting really doing us? It didn’t have to be everything or nothing. So… we talked… about what we wanted and what- what we were afraid of… and we decided to go forward slowly.” 

- 

AN: I said in the Author’s Notes on AO3 that I was going to use Jiage to shame Moshang and Qijiu, and I meant it. TALK TO EACH OTHER!!! Shang Qinghua, you need to talk to Mobei-Jun about what you want! Shang Qinghua, you can’t keep putting things on hold because of the plot! 

- 

 No offense to either his sister-in-law or his junior martial brother, but aren’t love stories supposed to be a little more… fiery? 

 “When I was younger, I thought that falling in love was supposed to be all excitement and passion and not being able to live without someone even for a second,” Luo Jiahui admits, a little wistfully. “I thought that it was supposed to be thinking about them all the time, not being able to stay away from each other, and needing to know what they’d been doing every second they were away. It was like becoming a completely different person. I thought that being in love was about one of us getting horribly jealous every time we even talked to someone else, doing things I didn’t really understand and changing myself just to keep him happy, and keeping secrets and sneaking around just to keep things from exploding. Because love is not being able to help yourself like that, right?” 

 Shang Qinghua can’t really manage to speak right now. 

 It’s like someone has cut his fucking throat. 

 Which is fine! 

 “But that ended really badly for me,” Luo Jiahui says, with a nervous huff at her own understatement. “It was very exciting, but looking back, being in that kind of love was also very frightening sometimes… and it was a little lonely too… being in love with someone I couldn’t really talk to or trust.” 

-

AN: This is more specifically vagueing SVSSS Bingqiu than Moshang, but it’s also shaming Moshang too. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky wrote some extremely messed-up romances and he would have said, “Yes! It’s all super messed-up! That’s kind of the point!” But it also means that the man can’t really conceptualize (at least at first) or articulate the kind of relationship he would actually be happy to have with Mobei-Jun, especially when his relationship with Mobei-Jun had such violent beginnings 

- 

 The first person he tells himself is, weirdly enough, Qi Qingqi. Liu Qingge apparently already told both Liu Mingyan and Luo Fanli before he left, so Shang Qinghua heads over to see how the girls are handling it. (Also, he wants to pump Liu Mingyan for information on her mother’s opinions on weddings and marriage, in a really pathetic attempt to ready himself for the rumble.) He makes her agree to keep the information to herself before telling and she does, like a bro! 

 And then he tells and she laughs in his fucking face! Eventually, she realizes that he’s looking for sympathy, he’s not just here to let her enjoy his suffering, as a form of payment after everything he and Liu Qingge have inflicted on her. Then she laughs at him again, even louder. 

 Sure, he’d laugh too if he was in her shoes! But not to her face! Rude! 

 - 

AN: Qi Qingqi also pointed while laughing, I think. It’s funny because it’s not her dealing with Liu Family shit this time. 

- 

 Shang Qinghua expected, this time last year, to be laser-focused on the plot! His attention was not going to stray even a little bit, he promised himself; he was going to be 110% dedicated to making sure that everyone he tripped into caring about made it through the least shitty version of  Proud Immortal Demon Way  possible. He was going to be a  machine  of a transmigrator! No distractions! All he wanted was for his family to make it through the quickest, least shitty bare bones of a plot! And he was going to  achieve, damn it! 

 Instead, he finds himself planning his sister-in-law’s wedding and it eats up time he didn’t fucking know he had to give. Immortal Alliance Conference, eat your fucking heart out! Cang Qiong Mountain Sect? Did he work there? Nope, he’s never heard of the place! He’s the Peak Lord of wedding planning now! 

- 

AN: This is me telling myself I’m going to get my life 100% together and then getting into a new video game and baking cookies instead. Or ditching my housecleaning plans to hang out with friends at a moment’s notice. 

- 

 At the wedding itself, Fanli tells her sister’s father-in-law that Binghe is also  very into birds and Shang Qinghua’s nephew spends a good chunk of the rest of the celebrations (and his precious time away from Qing Jing Peak) held hostage by his own politeness, listening to his new grandfather earnestly tell him about the various migration habits of demonic birds. 

 Well! Better him than Shang Qinghua, honestly! 

-

AN: Inspired by that time we went on vacation and one of my brothers got mistaken by one of our travelling companions for a budding serious birdwatcher instead of someone who just thinks they’re neat - and also likes to point at them and intentionally call them by the wrong name. 

Also, LQG’s Dad in this fic and SY would probably get along super well. 

LQG and his dad in this universe have gone out on month-long camping trips to in which they pretty much don’t talk the entire time. They stalk monsters through the wilderness and have a great time.

- 

 Shang Qinghua is too busy keeping an eye on Luo Fanli and being  not talked to by Liu Mingyan, who is eighteen-ish years old now he thinks and still deeply embarrassed by the fact that he told her off for her real person fiction. (He doesn’t want to discourage her passion for writing! She’s pretty good for a kid! It’s pretty cute! Everyone needs their escapist hobbies! He just doesn’t want identifying information about his family being spread around freely, even if the characterizations of the couple are… uh… wildly reimagined, and he doesn't want to have to spend his very valuable time keeping a lookout for more illicit fiction.) It’s difficult to read her expression through the ever-present veil, but… yeah, she’s still pissed off at him.

 Ugh, teenagers. 

 Binghe is not allowed to bring several hundred nieces-in-law into Shang Qinghua's life. Just... no. Fuck, no. 

 He doesn’t even get a date to commiserate about this with. 

 It’s a very small wedding, family only (Luo Jiahui’s shitty parents  don’t count  and her older brother was forced to decline the invitation), so that Luo Jiahui and Liu Qingge can keep their privacy. Madam Liu huffed about it - the battles in talking her down were both great and terrible - but her son stood his ground! Sure, people might whine someday about not being invited, but the great thing about Liu Qingge is that they can more or less just say,  “Well, we couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted!”  And people just have to take that unless they want to claim they could take on the Bai Zhan Peak War God! 

- 

AN: Trying to imagine the AU in which SQH brought MBJ as his date to this wedding. SQH would’ve liked to be able to bring MBJ as a date, but alas, they are not dating and the groom would probably try to kill the man. 

- 

 Shang Qinghua is not expecting, soon after returning from his sister-in-law’s happy and long-awaited wedding, to be solemnly informed that Shen Qingqiu’s health has only really deteriorated these past months. Wow, that’s a huge downer. 

 Also, he already knew that? He’s been getting Mu Qingfang all the right supplies to treat their shixiong. He didn’t actually abandon his duties to the sect for a family wedding. He knew that Shen Qingqiu had fallen sufficiently ill to need tending on Qian Cao Peak in the past month and he considered it, well, convenient timing in regards to Binghe’s permission to attend his mother’s wedding not being randomly revoked. Cold-hearted, maybe! But he had lots of other things to worry about at the time, like informing Mobei-Jun that his sister-in-law was getting married and so he’d be regrettably absent to attend the wedding. 

 Then he’s told that Shen Qingqiu is not expected to improve this time. 

  “Oh, shit, they really think he’s dying,” Shang Qinghua realizes. 

 This really wasn’t in  Proud Immortal Demon Way. 

- 

AN: I seriously contemplated cutting this chapter in half because of this mood switch. Like, I went in intending on writing a serious mood switch, but in practice, wow. It felt like a lot more in practice. 

- 

 “Our sect leader asks about the boy and his progress,” Shen Qingqiu rasps, his voice turning more and more accusing. “He’s  so very  concerned about the boy. We can’t have such a beloved child  crying  to his devoted family that he’s been mistreated or neglected, can we? How flattering these assumptions are. It makes a man wonder what exactly people think he’s going to  do to the boy.” 

 Shang Qinghua might have an itemized list somewhere, honestly. 

 “Ah, I can’t speak for anyone else,” Shang Qinghua says finally. “But please don’t take it personally, Shen-Shixiong. I don’t really trust anyone. Anything can happen behind a locked door, you know?” 

 Some honest cynicism can go over well with the man. 

 Shen Qingqiu laughs bitterly now. 

- 

AN: It can be fun in media where Character A is like, “Ahhh, I hope no one discovers my secret!” And Character B is like, “So, about this extremely obvious thing that you’re doing...!” 

Shen Qingqiu is as honest and open as he is throughout this scene because he honestly thinks that he’s dying. He’s determined to be blithe about it. 

- 

Shang Qinghua at least gets to see Mu Qingfang’s face journey as Shen Qingqiu accuses their sect leader of letting him think that he’d left him to die. As Shen Qingqiu yells about being treated like an unwanted ghost, as a potential blackmailer, as an embarrassing disappointment, as a petty troublemaker, as a spoiled child, as a problem to be solved, and as the last blemish on Yue Qingyuan’s reputation - anything but as someone worthy of being trusted with Yue Qingyuan’s problems and of being treated like an equal friend. 

 Yue Qingyuan tries to explain that he didn’t think Shen Qingqiu wanted to hear his excuses, and Shen Qingqiu shoots back that he would rather fucking die than beg the man he’d thought had forgotten about him to explain when exactly he became not worth rescuing as soon as possible. 

 Yue Qingyuan tries to explain that he didn’t want Shen Qingqiu’s pity or to force the man to be grateful that he’d  tried. 

 Shen Qingqiu tells the man to go fuck himself. How could it not hurt for someone he loved to hurt him and then just…  move past the hurt  like the pain wasn’t  who they were? 

 “All the world could revile me… reject me… leave me to die… and I would pay their hatred no heed! What do they truly know of what I am? Of who I am?” Shen Qingqiu demands. “But if  Qi-Ge  could throw me away… decide that I just wasn’t worth the  trouble anymore now that he’d had a taste of a better life… then I really must be wretched beyond all things at the root! If he believed it, then… then it had to be true.” 

- 

AN: Because I just wrote a Qijiu confrontation over this exact thing, like, a few days before, I thought that I could get away with writing out this entire confrontation in full. I think it works better if the audience has to imagine some of it. And because SQH is the POV character, it felt right that he not be in the room and not be a full witness to this scene. He doesn’t get to see everything. 

[autisticcassandracain]

The original plan for the Mirage thing was for Kory to react reasonably and not blame Dick at all, and leading to their successful marriage. However, behind the scenes interference nixed that plan, and orders were given that Dick and Kory were to be broken up instead, leading to that whole mess

Do you happen to have a source on that? Not that I don't believe you because it would make a LOT of sense, it's just that if there's anything I've learned from being in the DC comics fandom it's that there's a lot of unsourced 'common knowledge' going around that's just plain wrong and I'd like to avoid falling for that. again. bc I've done it before (a lot. I am very gullible) and it's embarrassing.

But even if they had to break them up due to editorial demands I feel like they could've done that in way better and way more natural ways. Disclaimer that I don't like dickkory to begin with so my opinion may be biased, but there's way better angles you could've taken for a break up plot than the massacre of Kori's character that happened now.

I skimmed the break up plotline last night (I'm not finishing this comic because there's only so much bad writing my brain can handle, but I'd like to know the basics on what happens to Donna and Kori in it), and the thing that really got me is that they flirted with actual solid reasons for why Dick and Kori might be better off broken up but then consistently wrapped it in so much bad writing I can barely even give them credit for it. Instead of that weird contrived plotline with Mirage and Sexy Evil Raven that happened now, you could've simply had a B-plot of Dick and Kori's relationship slowly falling apart.

Their relationship was already quite rocky; while they clearly love each other very much, their personalities are quite different and that frequently leads to conflicts. We've seen that mostly with Dick lashing out at Kori when he has his own personal issues going on, and Kori blaming herself for it, and Kori wanting to be closer to Dick while Dick doesn't feel ready to make that kind of commitment. You could've easily extrapolated reasons to break up from these semi-frequent issues.

anyway this got long so there's an example of what you could do with this plotline under the cut

For example, we know that Dick always wears disguises when dating with Kori, and had to move out of her apartment to protect his identity. Kori values openness, and it wouldn't have been OOC for her to become unsatisfied with the secrecy surrounding their relationship. She likely wouldn't feel like she has the right to pressure Dick to out his secret identity (because she doesn't), and since there's no easy way around it otherwise, I can imagine it putting a strain on her.

You can couple this with the fact that Dick has attempted to restrict Kori in many ways; it's even directly acknowledged by Dick himself that he's tried to change Kori rather than taking her as she is, and that this was a mistake. (For the record, I don't think this would be impossible to work through, or that it means Dick doesn't love her, but we're talking break up plotline here.) By contrast, Kori has always tried her absolute best to be understanding and accommodating to Dick, and even though she is pushy sometimes, Dick has stated/implied this is something he actually appreciates. The break up plotline in canon already mentioned that Kori has always lived for others, and now wants to explore what she wants for herself. You can expand on this by having Kori become dissatisfied with the effort she puts into accommodating Dick vs. the seeming lack of effort he puts in.

The catalyst for this can absolutely be the Mirage plotline. The thing is, I don't think it's unreasonable or OOC for Kori to be upset about the fact that nobody noticed she was missing. It's not that anyone did anything wrong, but it's got to hurt, being tied up in a basement for days, only to finally break out and find out nobody noticed you were gone. Even with a reasonable Kori who recognizes that this isn't Dick's fault, I think it'd be completely understandable if she was still upset.

This could be interesting to explore because Kori, as a rule, lives by her emotions, but she's also spent enough time on Earth that she's learned the value of logical reasoning, and why you sometimes need to put your feelings second. In this case, logical reasoning says she shouldn't be upset, but emotionally, she still feels that way. This conflict could be a good catalyst for getting her to re-examine how exactly she wants to live, and how her relationships contribute to that. Particularly, she could take a closer look at her and Dick's relationship and come to the conclusion that while they clearly love each other, it's somewhat unbalanced, and might not actually be what she needs. The reason Kori has pushed through all this before is because she loves Dick, and that's all that matters to her, but with her taking a new look at the benefits of rationally examining your emotions, she might start doubting a little.

This could also tie back in to a line Donna said way back when Dick and Kori first got together that kind of lives in my head rent free but never got expanded upon. Namely, right after Dick and Kori get together, Dick's personal troubles start boiling over and he takes it out by being kind of a bitch to Kori. Donna and Kori have a conversation about this, and at some point (I forget the exact details), Kori says that she's in love with Dick, and Donna responds, "Are you sure you're not just in love with being in love?"

Like, again, dickkory hater bias here, but one of the reasons I was disappointed by the canon portrayal of dickkory was that it always felt like Dick was getting way more out of this relationship than Kori. In particular, I just. Genuinely have no idea what Kori likes about Dick. They've never established that. I can guess and extrapolate, but while Dick has stated repeatedly and explicitly that he loves Kori for the openness of her emotions, her passionate nature, and compassion, Kori. Hasn't done anything like that with Dick. Again, I don't think this would be impossible to work through, but again, break up plotline. In this case, Kori could think back to Donna's words, and realize she was at least partly right; that it's not necessarily Dick specifically that Kori loves, but more the sensation of being in love itself, which she could get with virtually anyone provided she fell for them.

All of this could be combined with Dick's new clinginess regarding Kori, which is canon. I don't know WHY his mental health was going downhill that fast bc I'm only here for Kori, but regardless, you could have Kori getting worried about how much Dick depends on her emotionally, just like she already did in canon.

All this, combined with her newfound worry that she might simply not be getting enough out of this relationship herself and her feeling increasingly restricted in it, puts stress on her. Kori is an emotional person, and the reason she's put up with all of Dick's shit so far was that she loves him, wholly and completely. But if she started thinking it might be a better idea to take a slightly more rational approach to this relationship, the way Earthlings usually do, I think her eventually reaching the conclusion that a break up would be healthier for both of them wouldn't be OOC.

Of course, this does kind of depend on your interpretation of Kori, and the arc you want her to have. Canon sent her in wildly the opposite direction, in which she got more in touch with her Tamaranian roots and decided to live by them fully, which I don't mind in theory, but it was just. SO badly written. I think this would be a much more logical progression of her character after staying on Earth for so long, particularly since she's already become more willing and able to take a deep breath and calm her emotions if necessary. I'm not saying you'll have to basically just give her Earth's values when it comes to emotions, absolutely not please don't do that, but for this particular plotline, I think it'd work.

Plus, if they wanted to, this also leaves a lot more room for a reversal of the decision. If editorial changed its mind, it would've been really easy to give Dick an arc of doing a bit of soul searching, proving he can stand on his own, and proving he can support Kori emotionally in this relationship, and Kori would likely be extremely happy to take him back because she really does love him to pieces. Again, maybe it's the dickkory bias, but I think it'd even be good for them, in the long term.

Of course, none of this fixes the fact that the Mirage plotline was a really shitty portrayal of sexual assault, but I feel like that's been discussed fairly well by fandom at this point (I mean, it's not mentioned that frequently, but it's well-discussed for a 30-year-old plotline and people seem to be aware of the problems with it), so I don't feel like I really have much to add to that discussion. By contrast, whenever this arc comes up, I rarely see people mentioning how OOC Kori was, and they even sometimes use it to bash her/dickkory in general, so I felt like it was worth discussing on that angle.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Amalia pt.2

For @artsymeeshee​. Thank you so so much for being you and for always brightening up my day! Sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it.

pt.1

~~~~~~~~~~

“Dipper, come on! They’re ready!”

The thirteen-year-old boy quickly joined his sister on her bed, lying on their stomach so they could see the laptop comfortably. Yes, they texted their grunkles at least three times a day and constantly sent emails and usually got to have a video call once a week, but that didn't make their interactions any less exciting and enjoyable. Dipper and Mabel’s parents were busy working so the twins had the house to themselves and could talk freely.

The laptop ringed a few times and soon they were graced with two nearly identical faces with distinct differences, both smiling widely at the young teenagers. “Hey there, kiddos!”

“Hi, guys!” Mabel returned, waving and grinning. “Did you get my package, did you, did you, did you?!”

“Yes, I have it right here.” Ford chuckled warmly and placed the package on the dining room table, where the old men were located.

“Well go ahead and open it!” Mabel squealed and Stan used his pocket knife to cut through the tape and they opened the box to find a large, brand new knitted blanket.

“Oh, wow! Mabel, sweetie, this is… wow.” Stan admired with shining eyes as he pulled the blanket out of the box.

“This might be your best work yet, my dear!” Ford complimented as he grazed the yarn with his fingers. “It’s so soft, and how on Earth did you manage to make it so big?”

“Big knitting needles!”

“She used her arms to knit it, like she had it looped around her actual arms.” Dipper answered honestly with a small, proud smile while Mabel blushed furiously.

“That’s very impressive.” Ford said.

“I’ll say! It’s beautiful! I love it!” Stan wrapped it around his shoulders and hummed; he could distantly smell his niece’s shampoo and cheap strawberry perfume. “Thank you, pumpkin.”

“You’re welcome, I just don’t want you guys to be cold or freeze to death up there.”

“Mabel, for the millionth time, I swear we’re fine.” Stan assured, unable to keep the laughter in his throat down.

“I know, but as the professional knitter in the family, it is my sworn duty to ensure you two stay warm and cozy, despite the challenging environment!” She said victoriously with her hand pointing upward, like she was pretending there was a flag behind her or something. “Anywho, what’s new with you guys?”

“Oh, nothing out of the abnormal.” Ford said casually, rocking his hand side-to-side in a painfully casual manner. “Iceland was interesting, we’re planning on heading back up North shortly to make it to Gravity Falls in time for summer, but we have about a month to spend exploring the United Kingdom until we have to start our way back.”

“Great!” Dipper commented. “See anything cool in Iceland? Any mountain trolls?”

“No, no trolls.”

“Although we did see this big smelly guy in a bar that looked half-troll to me.” Stan added in.

“But… we…” Stan gave Ford a dark look, so the eldest twin corrected himself quickly. “I… I did something.”

“Oh boy, did you burn a hole into the counter again, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel guessed.

Ford chuckled warmly and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s… well, I’ll show you, hold on one minute.”

Dipper and Mabel watched one uncle get up and leave while the other held his head and rubbed his temples. “Grunkle Stan, what did he do?” Mabel asked.

“Something a certain pumpkin once did to me and I don’t appreciate it anymore now than I did before.” Stan mumbled.

Ford sat back down next to his twin, resulting in Mabel screaming and then quickly covering her mouth, her eyes wide and shining like stars. Dipper just stared, smiling, but mostly confused at the tiny furry thing on his grunkle’s chest. Ford couldn’t keep the dopey smile off his face as he petted the anomaly’s back and she licked his cleft chin. “This is Amalia.”

“OH MY GOSH, YOU GUYS!” Mabel squealed, making Amalia jump a little and start looking around the boat for whatever was causing the sudden noise. “She’s so cute! I didn’t know you guys were gonna get a pet!”

“Neither did we.” Ford chuckled as Amalia sat on the table, still looking around. “She came aboard in Iceland and never left. She’s quite gentle and well-trained, very well behaved.”

“She’s a cute, furry jerk.” Stan growled.

“Stanley’s just mad at her because she knocked over his favorite mug this morning.”

“Daw, she probably wanted your attention, Grunkle Stan.”

“Well, she has it now.” Stan sneered and pointed his fingers from his eyes to the pet, still curiously on the hunt for the mysterious noise.

“How interesting.” Dipper muttered with a smile. “Do you know what species she is?”

“Not quite sure.” Ford answered. “She has many cat-like behaviors, but obviously she’s more than some exotic breed of a domestic feline. I’ve run a few tests, simply playing games with her to test her intelligence and watching her through the day, but so far nothing too abnormal has come up.”

“Well, as much as she doesn’t look like any breed I know of, she might be a hybrid we’ve never seen before, a mixture of two breeds of cat. I could do some research to see if she resembles any cat breeds.” Dipper pulled out his cellphone while Amalia looked at the scream, her eyes big at the teenagers.

“She’s looking at us, she’s looking at us!” Mabel whispered excitedly. “Hi, Amalia! Hi! I’m gonna knit you a cute sweater, yes I am!” She cooed.

Amalia pawed at the laptop, getting closer to it, and eventually walking on the keys.

“OY! Get off!”

“Stanley, don’t hurt her!”

“She’s gonna…”

And suddenly Dipper and Mabel were faced with a blank screen, making them laugh and quickly send snarky text messages to the old sailors.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan’s eyes slowly opened, lying on his back, and therefore first seeing the ceiling of the bunker of his beloved boat. He was stiff; his whole body was stiff and his eyes were crusty and he wanted to go back to sleep, but his body had had enough of sleep and it was time to leave his bed for the day.

Taking in a sharp breath to brace himself for the pain of first moving his old back, Stan sat up and placed his feet in his slippers. He reached for his glasses, surprised to find a note by them. He slipped on his aid of vision and immediately recognized his brother’s neat cursive writing.

Stanley, We needed a few supplies and I felt like going on a small walk early this morning, so I left you alone to sleep. I’ll be back by lunch. Please look after Amalia while I’m gone. Stanford. 6:18am

Stan swore under his breath. Not only had Sixer probably not slept well, Stan was willing to bet money on it, he was stuck babysitting the stupid animal. Who, by the way, was playing with a fluffy ball on the floor, silently amusing herself and leaving Stan alone. Well, fine then. He could work with that.

The younger twin stood and slipped on his bathrobe over his pajamas, making his way upstairs for coffee and maybe some breakfast. The clock over the stove read two minutes before ten, so coffee should tie him over until lunchtime. Stan filled the machine with a filter and grounds and turned on the pot after filling it with water, but he was disturbed from his work when he heard tiny footsteps and saw Amalia climbing up the steps and walking up to him.

“Whatcha want?” He growled sleepily.

Amalia, of course, didn’t answer, but instead sat next to where Stan stood and rubbed against his bony legs, purring her strange purr; it wasn’t normal like a cat’s but there was no other way to explain the sound she made. Stan snorted.

As the coffee pot filled with the caffeinated breakfast beverage, Stan fished out an apple from the fridge and bit into it. Okay, a small snack would be okay. His eye caught the small stacks of canned tuna Ford had put there, claiming Amalia preferred her fish cold, and he shrugged and decided to go ahead and feed the weird thing so he wouldn’t have to get up from the couch to do it later. At the sound of the can opening the little cat-like beauty sprung up on the table and tapped the surface with her little beanie paws, a bad habit Ford had installed early because “Amalia is too lady-like to eat on the floor,” the aged scientist had cooed as he placed the can on the table and scratched his pet.

Stan rolled his eyes and decided not to fight it. He sat Amalia’s breakfast on the table and she happily indulged in the cold fish while Stan poured himself a mug of coffee. He watched the anomaly eat peacefully, her tiny face almost completely engulfed in the food. The old conman couldn’t help but smile as he sipped his black drink. “You’re quieter than the pig. I’ll give you that.”

Amalia sat up, a bit of damp food on her face, but she licked it off and then began to clean herself by licking her paw and rubbing her face. Stan accidentally found himself watching her as he sipped his coffee, a small smile on his wrinkly face.

Really, the main reason why he was being the bad guy was because someone had to be in this type of situation. Someone had to try to be reasonable, someone had to oppose a potentially bad idea, and with Stan’s tough-guy persona and Ford opting out of being the cold, realistic, mad-scientist in order to be a big marshmallow for a weird cat, Stan was the perfect candidate. With that being said, Stan reminded himself of an incident he was faced with over fifty years ago.

“Stanford, please!”

“Stanley, I’m sorry, but he’s a wild animal. Don't you think he’ll be happier out in nature? And what will Ma and Pa say?”

“They… They don’t have to know…”

“Stanley!”

“Sixer, please! C’mon! I’m begging you! I’ll do anything! Just please don’t rat me out!”

“Whoa, whoa. I’d never tattle on you, I… I won’t tell, but I really think you shouldn’t keep him as a pet.”

It was only a week, but by the time Stan re-introduced the animal as Shanklin the Stab-Possum, Ford’s appreciation for the strange pet was much stronger and he even used him to help free the Jersey Devil. Plus it was easy to keep the possum a secret when they were grounded in their room all summer. Ford never did tattle and he loved that possum almost as much as Stan loved Shanklin. So, okay, if a couple of weird nine-year-olds can have a possum for a pet, then a pair of eccentric old sailors can have an unknown cat for a pet.

Stan left the kitchen-area for the couch and pulled out a newspaper he had snagged yesterday to finish. He opened it with a rustle and sat comfortably, but not long did he feel something join him on his right side and then two little paws land on his leg. Stan lowered his reading material and raised an eyebrow at Amalia, who just looked at him with sparkling eyes. “What?”

Of course the anomaly didn’t answer, but she did climb across his legs for his lap and sat in a curled-up ball for a mid-morning nap. Stan sighed with a smile, scratched her behind the ear, and rescued his reading.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks later and the Stan O’ War was harbored at Ipswich, UK. Having traveled through the Irish Sea and around England, the ship was about to head up north, beginning the journey for home. But Mabel had given the twins another city to be in for another package, and so with Amalia in Ford’s hoodie and Stan holding two bags of groceries, they stopped by the post office and picked up their mail.

Cushioned in a new baby-blanket for Amalia were two small sweaters just perfect for the little anomaly. One was purple with a golden six-fingered hand and a golden crescent with each symbol having an ‘s added to it, and beneath all of this the word “pet” was stitched on in colorful letters. The second one was fluffy white with a baby-blue paw-print on it, each sweater big enough to not squeeze Amalia and with the designs on her back so the humans could see them easily.

While Amalia was never shivering or actively cold, Ford ignored Stan’s laugh-filled orders not to torture their pet and the fluffy-haired twin had Amalia try on the white sweater, who loved it so much she refused to let Ford take it off of her for a few hours. Stan, of course, had to end a picture to their niece, who may or may not have cried at the sight and at the caption her uncle sent it with, “Amalia loves Auntie Mabel’s sweaters.”

[lizacstuff]

Sen Çal Kapımı / Edser ask from episode 43 (2x04)

AKA Serkan’s episode. 

There is also speculation about episode 44 based on the fragmans and a few random asks

 (Asks under the cut)

Anonymous asked: Hey, Liza! How did you like the ep? I still get chills when watching the diary x video scene and the final one.. Finally the truth is out to both Serkan and Kiraz! And that fragman! 😍 but It seems like Aydan filing for custody will be the new drama, do you think it will last long? Because I highly doubt that they will give solely happy edser and Kiraz in remaining episodes..

My full episode thoughts are here,  but I agree the diary and video scene was spectacular. It makes me teary every time. 

I’m also psyched that the truth is out. Truthfully, I was one that wanted Serkan to find out at the end of the first episode, but now I concede that it was better to draw it out a bit to really build everything up to this episode and his journey to letting go of his fears. What a character arc they gave him. They really explored Serkan and what drives him this episode and it was a treat-- a painful treat-- to watch it all unfold and for him to finally admit what had driven him to push her away all those years ago and what was still holding him back in the present. 

As for what’s next, that’s a great question. I agree that it’s unlikely we’re going to get happy Edser family from here on out, there has to be some obstacles and drama before we get to the end. The Aydan custody drama will clearly be the conflict in episode 5, but I don’t see it as any real barrier for Eda and Serkan. We see in the second fragman that Eda is already confronting Serkan about it, so if Aydan is doing something underhanded they can’t draw it out too long. 

I assume that while the custody thing may cause a wee bit of miscommunication between Eda and Serkan, I think it mostly will serve as fodder for Aydan and Ayfer’s relationship dynamic and give the supporting characters something to run around and chase after while Eda, Serkan and Kiraz actually start forming their new family unit. If anything it might serve as a catalyst for Serkan. Picture it, Eda confronts Serkan about it and Serkan is like “I don’t know anything about that, I wouldn’t do something that would hurt you or Kiraz, but I do want her, I want us.” You know, serve to clarify things.  

There are probably a few episodes of family drama in store for us as everyone, including Eda, Serkan and Kiraz adjust to this new reality. I assume once the euphoria of having her Baba back wears off for Kiraz, she might ask some questions that are hard for Eda and Serkan to answer. We shall see. 

Anonymous asked: i don't think i've cried THIS much at an sck episode... in like ever lmao. i was full on silent sobbing at serkan watching kiraz's baby videos.. but the scene i really loved the most was the one where they have it out after that fancy dinner. it was EVERYTHING we needed to hear serkan's POV and i almost can't believe a lot of us got the "can't have kids" theory right. i have loved so much this season how edser have communicated, even when it's painful and hard.. it was sorely missing for them.

I know! The communication! I don’t think they’ve ever communicated like this. Of course their issues were not as deep and nuanced back in the first batch of episodes so going this in-depth wasn’t necessary, but they didn’t communicate like this when dealing with Babaanne or when it was really needed after the amnesia era.  

Honestly, so pleased the “can’t have kids” theory was correct. It goes so far in explaining his actions and thought process when pushing her away, as distorted as that thought process was.  It truly was selfless, because I’m sure all he wanted was to hold her tight and never let go, but it was also so unnecessary. Their love story has just been so tragic, but if you think about how many things were stacked against them, it’s also stunning that their love has persevered. They were so opposite and unlikely to fall in love to begin with and then you add in all the things that stood in their way, meddling mothers, family secrets, Serkan’s father being responsible for her parents death, evil, rich, powerful grandmother using everything in her considerable arsenal to keep them apart, psycho stalkers, kidnapping princes, crashing planes, amnesia, brainwashing and abusive exes, plotting “friends,” tumor, cancer, separation!

To come out of all of that and to see they are clearly still in love with one another... well they really don’t have any other choice. They should get married immediately with no pomp and circumstance just so they are legally tied together. So when the next tragic, catastrophic thing comes along it will be that much harder to pull them apart.  

Anonymous asked: deniz and burak are the most harmless "3rd party" characters we've ever had in the show that it almost makes me laugh when ppl get so insecure about them.. especially with burak, knowing that he's gonna be melo's love interest, even if i don't want it. like, sure serkan is naturally gonna be jealous, maybe possessive, because of "buba" but it's all being shown right now as light comedic relief.. i've seen some people REALLY take it to heart when it really doesn't seem like it's that deep lol.

I know, it’s all so mild. They also aren’t actually even third party love interests, because there is absolutely zero interest from either side of the main pair. Both are there to a) serve plot purposes and b) show that neither Eda or Serkan is interested in anybody else. It’s nice, we get to see that while they both have had options, neither has been able to move on and both have chosen to remain alone. 

As for driving the plot, Burak’s presence was necessary because they needed someone who Serkan thought was Kiraz’s father, and Deniz was necessary because they needed someone who would do whatever Serkan wanted when Serkan wanted to force proximity with Eda. 

Looking at the fragman, the real “triangle” might be Buba - Kiraz - Baba  but I also think that will mostly be played for laughs.  A way to give us some “Drain the pool” and “Burn the flowers” type jealousy moments from Serkan, since that was a hallmark of Ayse’s early writing. 

However, I can see why some folks were put-off by that vibe. Because, yes, if you’ve been standing in as a male-figure for the 5-year-old daughter of the woman you’re tying to woo (let’s not pretend that’s not why Burak takes such an interest in Kiraz) and the father that the 5-year-old has been wanting and pining for actually re-enters the picture, maybe you don’t need to force your way in and have “Buba day” the day after he returns. I’m not saying you can’t have it ever again, I’m saying you let the family have some alone time and figure things out. Anyone with any emotional intelligence would postpone such an outing. However, it looks like Serkan is not put off so easily and we know he doesn’t lose, so it will probably lead to humorous scenes. 

The good thing about this is that it shows that Serkan won’t sit passively by. Here Burak is giving him an out, Serkan can have his day back, go to work, he can slide into fatherhood slowly, but looks like Serkan is going to have none of that and is going to crash their fishing outing. How’s that for someone who said he wasn’t ready for fatherhood a mere 24-48 hours earlier?

Also it’s worth noting that Kiraz doesn’t see Burak as a father-figure, if she did she probably would have joined Ayfer and tried to get her mom to marry him. Instead she’s been almost obsessed with her father, talking about him, dreaming about him, wanting him and was very quick to correct when someone mistook Baba and Buba. Also she wanted Buba to meet her father.  So Kiraz wanting to spend time with him isn’t a slight, in her mind he’s a friend, an uncle and with all the upheaval keeping their plans might feel safe to her. We’ll see.   

 martha0206 asked: Hi! I love your pinned post. That moment was perfect. Also, I loved the sad and emotional scenes as well as the funny ones. The episode was amazing!!! ❤ Serkan made Kiraz dream come true and I've rewatched that scene and cried because it's too beautiful and touching 🥺 K: Dad? S: Happy Birthday, my daughter 🥺😭❤

Ahh... this post that was pinned.  Thank you for the kind words, I also love that scene. I just love it because it’s such an EXTRA thing to do, putting on the astronaut costume and making an entrance like that, but both Serkan and Eda have always been so extra that it works for their little family. 

I love that he made Kiraz’s dream come true in the most dramatic way possible.  But beyond being dramatic, it was the perfect way to signal that no matter what fears or hang-ups Serkan had, he’s committed to getting over them and he’s ready to go all in on fatherhood. A perfect way to show not only Eda that he’s serious, but to show all their friends and family he’s serious. DO YOU HEAR THAT, AYFER? He’s back and he’s going to be her daddy, and there is nothing you can do about it!

Anonymous asked: do you think the writers goal is to make us hate Ayfer and Aydan? because its just a deeper and deeper hole for these two and I don't understand if they're supposed to be a happy family at the end. I actually realized going back that Ayfer never really developed into liking Serkan/Edser, she just accepted him one day and that was that but with Aydan, her character development was top tier up until episode 29 came along and she never recovered. Now I just want them gone.

LOL, I think this is a pretty popular sentiment among fans.  

Personally, I need to see how badly Aydan is meddling in the next episode. If it’s fairly inept meddling that just causes some mild misunderstandings but also serves as a catalyst for an Edser conversation about the future, I probably won’t get too upset with her.  However, if her meddling is more competent this time and she gets them into real trouble or causes real problems, then I’ll get annoyed with her. Although, I have to say if we need a few episodes of drama, I would rather this sort of controlled, family drama (meddling mamas causing a misunderstanding about custody) then, you know, other melodramatic things that certain other writing teams used to do... like kidnappings and obsessed stalkers. 

As for Aydan, I can’t help it, even though I can never forgive her transgression in 29, I feel sorry that she lost out on so much of her granddaughter’s life.  So if she wants to come in and cause headaches and drama for Ayfer (not Eda, Kiraz and Serkan... but Ayfer) then I have no problem with that. As far as I’m concerned those two can run around for the next few episodes playing cat and mouse while Eda/Serkan/Kiraz quietly form a family.

Honestly, I don’t think they want us to hate Aydan, because they give Aydan funny scenes and relationships outside of Serkan with Kemal and Seyfi and even Engin and Piril, but I have wondered if they want us to hate Ayfer. Because Ayfer doesn’t get any redeeming scenes.  I mean we’re talking about a woman who managed to raise her orphaned niece and her niece never wanted for love and turned out to be a strong, smart, confidence, successful woman... sooooo she must be awesome, right!?!  NOPE. I mean to take a character like that, who had to have been so instrumental in Eda not feeling lonely like Serkan did, but then make her so unlikeable... it has to be on purpose.  

Anonymous asked: I loved this episode of sen cal kapimi. I wasn’t so mad at the pregnancy thing. I know lots of fans are but I really liked how they made Eda and Serkan emotional and we could understand them better. I just hate how all the people who don’t like the show anymore have turned into toxic haters. It’s so frustrating. If she show isnt working for you, then why do they keep watching? 🙁

This happens in every fandom where the show keeps going and takes turns that some fans don’t like. My best advice is to not expect others to change or to stop watching or stop hate tweeting/posting, but to take steps to change your own experience so they don’t ruin it for you. I can’t tell you how many people I currently have muted on twitter. Lots. I don’t want to see the cynical, nasty tweets day in and day out about this show, the writers etc. Twitter has always been hard to take because so many people post their knee-jerk responses there and often choose to word vomit their first emotional response which for some people is mostly negative. That is true for every fandom, and has been true for this fandom since I started looking at responses there. 

So to protect yourself, seek out people who are enjoying the show and post content that you want to see and mute, unfollow or even block those who make your experience worse. 

You’ll never regret curating your experience. 

Also I don’t really consider this fandom toxic. Sure there’s negativity about the storyline and internal drama about a variety of things, but after you’ve been though shipwars that get hella toxic and include fans trying to destroy actor’s careers and who attempt to use social justice issues to bully their fanon ships into existence on a constant day-after-day basis for years, this is nothing. This fandom is a daisy-lined, sunlight walk in the park in comparison.  

Anonymous asked: For the way they treat their child's SO, I prefer Aydan over Ayfer. Ofc Aydan has been selfish & rude to Eda but Aydan saw her as a respectable foe even when she didn't like Eda. Even now her ire has been directed more at Ayfer than Eda. Ayfer eventually accepted Serkan but never seemed to like him. I get why she thought he was bad for Eda but often her anger has been unwarranted. Ironic how mad she was at him for keeping a secret from Eda for 2 weeks. Even now we see how Ayfer's anger sways Eda

I also prefer Aydan over Ayfer, here’s my recent post on it. 

The problem is not that Ayfer never liked Serkan, the problem is that Ayfer never care that Eda did like him. Ayfer can dislike him all she wants as long as she doesn’t interfere, but oh wait, she has interfered, time and time again. She’s used guilt and manipulation in attempts to control Eda at every turn, to the point, at times, of not caring that she was forcing Eda to sacrifice her career as well as her love. 

It will be interesting to see Ayfer’s response when she realizes Eda is going to let Serkan into their lives. Will she double down on badmouthing Serkan and pressuring Eda not to get involved with him, or will she smarten up and back off? I think we know the answer to that. 

Anonymous asked: Hii! I’m curious what they will come up with for the remaining episodes, I mean, drama-wise, cause no way will Ayse give us 7 episodes of Edser x Kiraz happy family time 🥺 but sure, that is also reasonable since Turks need drama to keep watching

You know, as I said above, I’m very curious about this. To be honest I didn’t really expect Eda and Serkan to be at this emotional place by the 4th episode. I mean they’re not totally ready to get back together, but they’ve both made it obvious that they still love one another, and that is kind of a big milestone in a romantic story. 

Seriously, my assumption prior to the season was that we’d have these initial finding out episodes, and then Eda and Serkan would still be sort of outwardly pretending that they didn’t want to get back together, or still angry at one another, but then they’d be forced together by Kiraz. You know there’d be some parent trapping, and a handcuff episodes and then Kiraz would manipulate them into living together and we’d get all sorts of domestic sexual tension scenes.  Now these things may still happen to some degree, but Edser is starting from a very different outward emotional place than I thought they would be. I assumed we’d get another 4-5 episodes of slow burn, forced proximity before they admitted things and got engaged. But now it feels like their feelings are out in the open and they could decide to get married at any moment. 

So we’ll have to see how the writer’s decide to chart their emotional journey over the remaining episodes. One thing I’m sure of, there are some wonderful scenes coming our way.  

Anonymous asked: I'm back and happy to say that Engin delivered!! THAT is how you use a side character. (Not whatever they were doing with Ayfer for what seemed like half the episode) This was a perfect scene for these two and had no business being as emotional as it was

Oh, yes, as I said here in my episode thoughts, the Engin/Serkan scene is the one that really started me crying on first watch. Anil was really fantastic in that scene and it made me realize how sorely I had missed Serkan/Engin as male best friends who actually talk about their emotions. Where was that guy when Serkan was being brainwashed and manipulated by Selin!?! Oh yeah he was in the hands of inept writers. 

Glad the real Engin is back!

Anonymous asked: Serkan's vehemence against wanting kids, and his dislike of kids in general, make so much more sense with what was revealed.. we just had to be patient! I can't imagine wanting something so much, having it be your "dream" and being told it's impossible.. Serkan's method of dealing with it was trying to convince himself he never wanted it in the first place and trying to dislike the topic altogether. no wonder he was never close with Can either as an uncle... how heartbreaking!

Yes, I absolutely think that was part of it. He dealt with the fact that he couldn't have children by outwardly adopting the attitude that he never wanted it, even though he still knew deep down that it’s all he wanted with Eda. 

Heartbreaking indeed. 

Anonymous asked: i hate to think of more drama when it seems like we have such a fluff-filled episode next week.. but this week's conversations b/w edser have me thinking.. do you think a possibility of reoccurrence of his tumor, or just a scare could be coming as one of their "final" hurdles. except this time instead of making his mistakes from the past, he'll do it right this time. obviously everything will be resolved happily, but i was thinking of the possibility of this when serkan was discussing his health

While anything is possible, I don’t see a reoccurrence of his tumor happening because they had a scene where the doctor said he was in perfect health and that since it had been five years he now had the same chance of occurrence as an ordinary person.  However, I suppose it’s not impossible that they give him some sort of scare so that he can prove he’s changed and that they won’t abandon his family if that sort of adversity comes again. 

Honestly, if I was Eda, I would make him go to therapy as a condition of them getting back together. Make sure he develops some coping skills for the long haul. 

Anonymous asked: the ending of the last episode was equivalent to ep 11 but kiraz version for me.. the whole build-up of serkan initially thinking he can't be her father - a good father - and his fears about leaving them both halfway culminating in him saying kiraz is a miracle, that she's perfect.. watching her home videos to showing up WHEN IT MATTERED!! for his daughter.. ugh i'm so glad there was that build-up, but also that it wasn't stretched out over multiple episodes.

Yes, I agree it was all really well done. It did feel like we had all the build up we needed to truly appreciate the moment and to appreciate Serkan’s extraordinary character arc. 

He truly rose to the occasion at the right moment, and I love that his grand gesture not only made Kiraz’s dream come true, but it showed everyone his growth and acceptance of his role as her father. 

Anonymous asked: can they just bring back Tahir - him and Melo had so much potential. let's just say he finally quit working for Babaanne and decided to come back to Istanbul to find Melo 😊

Yes, please!  He really liked her! Though she never really liked him, lmao. She could have gotten there with time. Though, I guess if she really likes Burak I can get behind it. And by that I mean I won’t bitch about it too much. No promises. We shall see. 

Anonymous asked: Anon here! Thank you so much for that explanation!!!! It seems really interesting, might just have to give it a chance now! Thank you kindly 😊😊

It’s a fun show and I do recommend it. Let me know if you start watching!

[silverarmedassassin]

Home for the Holidays (2/2)

Bucky x Reader | Word Count: 5,661 | Warnings: None

A/N: Here is part two! Thank you to those who humored me and read this little mini story! Part 1 can be found on my masterlist, which is conveniently pinned to my blog 😬

This is part 2 to my holiday submission for @wonderlandmind4​‘s fall/winter writing challenge. My prompt was: Character B is very enthusiastic to introduce character A to all their traditions, but tries to be sensitive when A seems like they’re struggling to fit in/enjoy themselves.

Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics​

“You’re going to love it here,” you announce as you take the exit to your small hometown. The drive out of the city had been relatively quiet, the playlist you’d crafted specifically for the trip was only briefly interrupted a handful of times by you pointing out a landmark or attraction tied to childhood memories. Normally, silence on a road trip would make you uncomfortable, but not with Bucky. In the few months you’ve known him, you’d come to understand he was a man of very few words most of the time, so you rarely felt the need to fill the empty space with senseless words.

You’d gotten to know him a lot better in the few weeks leading up to Christmas. He had been making an effort to spend time outside of his apartment more, which often meant he would come down to yours to share a meal or watch a movie. It was nice, getting to spend so much uninterrupted time with Bucky and, if the offhand comments that Sam had offered the handful of times you’d seen him coming and going, Bucky was enjoying the time too. If anything, it was helping him open up again. And, if that’s all you could offer your neighbor, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, instead he continues to look at his window at the passing landscape. Driving home has always been one of your favorite things to do, as the concrete jungle of the city slowly tapered off into nothing but dense forest, hills, and nature preserves. As much as you loved where you were in life now, there were always moments in time where you questioned why you’d ever decided to re-root yourself in New York City.

Once off the interstate, it doesn’t take you long to reach town limits, and it’s only a few short minutes of driving to reach your parent’s home. As you pull your car into the drive, you see Bucky tense out of your peripheral. You’d had a feeling the reason he was being so quiet today was because he was nervous, but this subtle action reaffirmed that.

“My dad’s not home yet,” you state nonchalantly in an attempt to ease his anxieties a little. “It’s just my mom home. I told her to be on her best behaviour, so you don’t have to worry about a million questions.”

Bucky glances over at you and the look in his eyes tells you that statement has eased him just a little. The fact he was so nervous to meet you family made you feel bad for even inviting him in the first place. But you knew he didn’t have anyone, as Rebecca’s family was going on a cruise, and Bucky had shared Sam was spending the holiday with his mother out of state. Despite your wanting to help him feel less alone during this awkward time of transition and settling, you felt guilty for bringing him all the way here.

Before you can let that guilt settle uncomfortably in your chest, you pop the trunk and jump out of the car. You’re only going to be home for four days, as Bucky didn’t want to stay away for too long and you wanted to use the extra time off of work to finally finish making your apartment feel like your home. Due to that, you both only had a small duffle of clothing, so unloading your things was quick.

As you lead Bucky up to the front door, you’re suddenly reminded to alert him of one tiny detail that might make him uncomfortable. As you turn to tell him, the front door of flings open and your mom comes barreling out, arms wide open. “I forgot to tell you,” you say, voice slightly muffled by your mother’s arms, “Mom’s a hugger.”

“Oh hush,” your mom says as she pulls away from you, her sights already set on Bucky. “Everyone needs a good hug.”

That night, Bucky had an easier time falling asleep than he ever imagined. New places, mixed with the fear of having one of his nightmares typically kept him up, if not all night, into the wee hours of the morning. The non-prescription sleeping pills Sam had suggested, mixed with the calming effect you seemed to have on him, were likely to thank for the early night. He isn’t surprised, however, when he startles awake around three in the morning. As he sits up in bed, sweat-drenched hair sticking to the sides of his face, he tries to remember what exactly the dream was about. It was another little something Sam and the others had suggested he do, something about acknowledging the things that hurt us most or something.

After a few minutes of sorting through his brain and trying to pin-point exactly what was the cause of his sudden consciousness, he gives up. Bucky decides that, instead of attempting to fall back to sleep right away, he would refill his glass of water and attempt to clear his mind of any lingering shadows.

Your home is quiet, a kind of peace settles over the entire building that no place in the city could ever harness. He thinks that maybe one day he’ll retire, move someplace quiet like this, maybe have a family of his own. Bucky pauses slightly in his descent of the staircase, caught off-guard by his own thoughts. He’d never been one to think about the future, not since he woke up in it. Just living to see the sunrise over Manhattan another day was enough for him. But his mind hasn’t quite been the same since you came along.

As he rounds the corner into the kitchen, he expects to find it devoid of others, but instead finds your mother sitting at the small kitchen table you’d all been sitting around just hours before, laughing and sharing a lifetime of memories with an outsider.

“Trouble sleeping,” she asks without looking over to where he’s standing. Instead, she raises a steaming mug to her lips and takes a tentative sip.

“Ye-yeah,” Bucky says, voice still thick with sleep and disuse.

Your mom hums as she looks over to him, profile lit effortlessly by the early winter moonlight streaming in from the back door. “That’s nothing a good cup of tea can’t help fix. There’s still water in the kettle if you’d like.”

Bucky watches her a moment longer before accepting her offer. She directs him on where everything he needs is located and, before he knows it, he’s sitting down across from her, his own warm mug full of a lavender and something concoction. If anything, at least it smells good.

“I’m really glad Y/N brought you along, Bucky,” your mom says as she takes another sip of her own tea. There’s a glint in the corner of her eye that Bucky can’t quite place, and it admittedly makes him a little nervous. “I do have to admit that her father and I were a bit shocked when she said she was bringing someone home. And then finding out that someone was a...well, you. I guess you never expect your own kid to get mixed up in the affairs of a superhero,” she chuckles to herself.

Bucky takes a large drink of his tea, instantly regretting it as it burns his throat the entire way down. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. When it had sunk in that he was going to be visiting you home for Christmas, meeting your parents and seeing your hometown, it made him anxious. He remembered that, back when he was still the punk who ran the streets of old-time Brooklyn like he owned the place, when a girl invited you to meet her parents it meant you were going steady, or at least headed in that direction. He knew things had changed a lot in terms of dating and relationships in general between men and women in the eighty-odd years he had been under, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this - spending one-on-one time with his beautiful downstairs neightbor’s mom - still held the same implications as it did in the forties.

“I, uh,” Bucky isn’t sure what to say. He doesn’t want to make it sound like he is disinterested in you, he knew that you talked about him in some capacity with your mother, afterall. But at the same time he didn’t want to sound too overzealous on the off-chance that this entire trip meant nothing other than a friendly visit for the holiday. “I’m really thankful you opened your home for me.”

Your mom takes Bucky off guard when she snorts out a small laugh. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to...Listen, I don’t know exactly what is going on between you and my daughter, but whatever it is, it’s really good for her. Y/N is, as you’ve likely picked up, a giver and a caretaker. She never asks for help when she needs it, and rarely accepts it when it’s offered.

“She took the whole Snap thing pretty hard, harder than she let on I think. That’s when she really threw herself at taking care of others, so much so that she forgot to take care of herself sometimes.” She pauses and looks intently down at her mug. “Y/N needs to be taken care of sometimes, too. And, whether you know it or not, I think you do that. I haven’t seen my daughter this happy in a long time. So of course we would open our home for you. Now and whenever you may need it.”

Bucky’s unsure of how to respond to such a tender sentiment, but the way your mom is looking at him tells him no response is needed. It’s a look, he assumes, only a mother can give. One of knowing and mystery and tender loving. One that she so openly offered to him, a stranger, an intruder in her home and holiday season. He realizes then that, everything he’s gone through, everything he’s ever done both voluntarily and not, doesn’t carry as much as he’s been thinking. That, despite it all, maybe he is more than what HYDRA made him and that he is deserving of the good things that have come to him in recent weeks.

“Well, Bucky,” your mom says as she takes one final sip of her tea. “I’m going to try to get some sleep. I suggest you do the same. Christmas Eve is kind of a big deal around here. You’ll need the energy, especially if you want to keep up with Y/N.”

Bucky quickly learned that when your mom said that Christmas Eve was a big deal, she meant it. You had come knocking at his door a little past seven this morning, telling him that, if he did not get up, you would not hesitate to grab a handful of snow. Despite the too few hours of sleep he ended up getting and the desire to hide away just a little longer before facing your entire family again, Bucky pulled himself out of bed and plastered a smile on his face.

The morning passes in a flurry of Christmas activity. Cookie dough is beat and patted and molded into festive shapes while various Christmas melodies flowed through the home. It was tradition, you had said as you deposited a fresh batch of snickerdoodles into the oven, that Christmas Eve morning was reserved for baking and eggnog making and singing out-of-tune to Christmas songs. So, you taught him how to use a rolling pin properly, showed him the perfect amount of pressure to put on the cookie cutters, and even scolded him when he took a spoonful of dough all for himself. The uncooked sugary goodness was just as good as he remembered.

As the last of the cookies are placed on a rack to cool, and the eggnog is nestled neatly into the fridge to chill, Bucky feels his back pocket start to vibrate. His heart drops momentarily when he pulls his phone out and sees Sam’s name scrolling across the screen. Sam only called for two reasons: Avengers business or to coax him out of the hole Bucky sometimes digs himself into, and only one was pertinent to the situation at hand.

Bucky excuses himself and steps out onto the back porch where he can talk in private. “Is everything okay,” Bucky asks in place of a proper greeting.

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas to you too, bud,” comes Sam’s witty response. Bucky has never wished to reach through a phone and slap the grin he just knows Sam is wearing right off his face. “I was just calling to see how things were going.”

“They’re fine, Sam,” Bucky huffs out, crossing his metal arm across his chest. “I made cookies for the first time, I think.”

Bucky can’t help but crack a smile when Sam starts to laugh on the other end. “That must have been a scene. I would tell everyone not to eat ‘em, though.”

The easygoing banter continues for a few minutes before the topic shifts to how Bucky is really doing. He shares his past day - because really he’s only been away from the city for a little over twenty-four hours - and Sam updates him on the goings-on at his own family gathering. Bucky listens intently while watching a pair of cardinals take turns pecking at the bird feeder hanging just beyond the porch and the sunset looming just beyond the yard.

“You sound really good, Buck. I’m real happy this neighbor can look past your shitty moods and spend time with you,” Sam says before saying his goodbyes. Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to hear from him. It was one of those little things that reminded him there were people out there that cared.

Instead of going back inside right away, Bucky decides to stay out on the back porch a little longer to enjoy the view of the setting sun and the tranquility that comes with being out of the city. It was rare that he found himself in a place as quiet as this, with a view unobstructed by skyscrapers. He wanted to savor the moment a little longer, appreciate the things he hadn’t realized he’d been missing for all these years.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” While lost in reverie, Bucky hadn’t heard you join him on the porch. He looks over to find you standing just to his left, already focused on the view. He admires the way the last rays of daylight streak across your face, takes in the way it makes you look like you’re lit from within by some ethereal, otherworldly energy. And maybe you were. After all, you’d somehow found a way to look past his flaws and broken pieces and settle yourself deep within his bones, whether you knew it or not.

“Yea, it is,” Bucky replies without taking his eyes off of your face. He’s not sure if he means the sun or you.

You look at him, then, the softest smile he’s ever seen planted on your face. He notices that under your left eye is a streak of flour that had found a home there at some point throughout the day. Without much thought, Bucky makes to wipe it away. “You have a little...” when he swipes his finger across the soft skin of your cheek, he swears he hears your breath hitch in your throat, but he tries not to think too much into it. He had unintentionally used his left hand, after all.

You both stand there like that for a moment, his thumb still lingering just under your lower lashes and you looking at him like he was the one responsible for this sunrise and sunset every day. The spell is broken, however, when a winter breeze blows through, causing your to shiver and curl in on yourself for warmth.

“Hey, so, if you’re up to it, we still have one more Y/L/N tradition that we have yet to complete.” You wait for a reaction, and Bucky’s not sure what you were looking for, but when he doesn’t say anything, you continue. “The city goes all out with the lights each year, and we usually go downtown to look at them. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. It’s usually kinda busy, and I know it’s cold and-”

“I’d love to,” Bucky smiles, and when he sees the unparalleled joy that spreads across your face, he knows then that he would say or do anything to be the reason for that look over and over again.

It’s just beginning to flurry when you make it to the main drag of your little hometown. Your parents lived just far enough away to feel like a quiet neighborhood, but close enough that you could easily walk downtown without immediately regretting your decision.

It comes as no surprise when you find the wider-than-normal sidewalks in front of the neat row of old storefronts crowded with other residents bundled up in their winter’s best. Despite the shoulder-to-shoulder situation in some sections of the street, you didn’t mind the crowd one bit. The unique and beautifully decorated window displays and intricately lit buildings and trees made the awkward shuffling and getting elbowed by strangers worth it.

At some point, you get separated from your parents and, when you turn to see Bucky’s reaction to the spectacle, you find he’s a good two couples away from you. You decide then that the only way you’re going to avoid being separated from anyone else is by looping your arm through his. He doesn’t fight it, and there’s only a slight moment of stiff awkwardness before he relaxes his arm and allows you to guide him through the crowd. Your cheeks hurt from the genuine smile on your face, and your throat is already feeling the effects of the amount of talking you’re doing. You have to point everything out to Bucky, though, from the horrifying, oversized light-up tooth the town’s dentist has put on display since you could remember to the ever-changing elegant light show that danced across the courthouse. You’re so enthralled in making sure you share every last detail of this special tradition that you fail to notice the way Bucky has closed in on himself.

Despite the glistening lights and the way the moonlight was catching on the large snowflakes as they fell, the light that usually shown in Bucky’s eyes had dimmed to barely the flicker of a candle. The smile that graced his lips was for your benefit and only appeared when you looked back at him to ensure he was still listening to you. As much as he loved watching your enthusiasm seep out of every pore, and enjoyed hearing the way the pitch of your voice got just a bit higher when you spotted something you especially enjoyed, Bucky wasn’t having a good time. The crowd, despite living in New York City, was making him nauseous. Every time he let you pull him down a side street, each seemingly smaller than the next, you felt the knot that had settled in the bottom of his belly tighten just a little bit more. At least when he was in the city, he felt comfortable, knew his way around most of modern-day Brooklyn, and had identified the perfect escape routes just in case a situation went south. Luckily, he’s never had to utilize such routes. But here? The place you were so excited to show him, share with him was foreign to him. The idea of not knowing what waited beyond each turn of the corner, who stood watching through the windows above the quaint storefronts took him back to his time on the run, back to when his days were filled with strict, careful routine, and he felt he was living on borrowed time.

“Earth to Bucky,” you laughed as you waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked a few times, pulling himself back to the surface before he could drown in his thoughts. You were looking at him, obviously waiting for an answer to a question he didn’t hear. “Where’d you go?” you laughed, blissfully unaware of the demons that were creeping in the shadows of Bucky’s still fucked mind.

“I, uh, got caught up in the lights, I guess,” he replied lamely, flinching when he realized just how stupid the answer sounds. He watches as an array of emotions flick across your eyes; amusement, questioning, concern. He had to look away before you could settle on a look of pity. Bucky couldn’t handle that.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” your probe, pulling him off to the side of the walkway into the entryway of one of the many buildings. “You don’t look so good.”

Bucky felt like kicking himself, wanted to scream at and scold his fragile mind for taking the joy and excitement you had been exuding just moments ago and turning it into worry, pity, anything but what you deserved to be feeling right now. “Bucky, please tell me if something’s wrong.”

He takes a breath before looking down at his snow-covered boots. “The crowds, being in an unfamiliar place...I still have problems with that, I guess.”

Your face falls even more at that. “Why didn’t you say something? We could have gone back home ages ago. Or not come at all. Or, or…”

“Y/N, it’s fine. Really. This is a tradition; I didn’t want to ruin it.”

You cross your arms and pout at that. He’s waiting for you to stomp your foot, much like Becca used to as a child when something didn’t go her way. The thought of his sister stings a little. She would have loved something like this, Bucky thinks, and that makes his uncomfortableness even more of a nuisance. He’s alive and able to see crazy Christmas displays and enjoy the things children growing up when he did couldn’t experience, yet here he is, broken and wishing he was anywhere else.

You pull him from his revere again when you start to tug on his metal arm. “Come on,” you huff, not out of annoyance or anger, but something else he can’t quite put his finger on.

“We’re not going back to your house,” he says, digging his heels into the concrete. This causes you to stumble a little and let go of his arm. “Please, don’t let me ruin this for you. I’ll be fine.”

“The only way you’ll ruin this is if you continue to be miserable while walking around. This is the same display as last year anyway,” you shrug. “I think I can skip one year.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, just looking at each other before Bucky sighs and relents. You loop your arm through his again, this time holding it a bit firmer and closer to your body, and begin to worm your way through the crowd. The further you get from the downtown streets, the quieter and emptier the sidewalks became. It wasn’t long before it was just the two of you walking along in silence. Despite the crowd-less walk, you don’t drop his arm.

“I’m really glad you came with,” you whisper after a few minutes. You’d lead him down the long route to your home, both for the fact it was sparsely traveled by foot and because you weren’t quite ready to lose the closeness of holding Bucky’s arm. “Even if I made you uncomfortable.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you think he’s retreated back into wherever he goes when he’s feeling stressed, but then he replies. “No, thank you. This is obviously a special holiday for you and your family. And here I am, intruding.”

You snort and bring your free hand up to wrap around his metal forearm. “You could never intrude, Bucky. I enjoy spending time with you.”

Despite the chill in the air, Bucky has never felt as warm as he does when those six words leave your mouth.

When you return home, boots are quickly shed and coats are hung neatly in the closet. Bucky stands quietly by the door, waiting for your lead. Despite your efforts of making him feel comfortable in your home, his movements were still shy and timid as he glided over the hardwood floors.

“I’m going to finish putting the dishes away,” you say after a moment and nod towards the T.V.. “You’re more than welcome to turn something on, I’ll only be a second.”

Bucky nods his head and watches you disappear into the dark kitchen. He waits until the clatter of pans and ceramic bowls reaches his ears to head up to the guest room. He didn’t feel much like socializing anymore. The day, despite its laid back approach and festive touch, had been both mentally and emotionally draining for him.

Bucky gracelessly flops down onto his back on the borrowed bed. He’s contemplating sending a message to Sam, maybe do that video chatting Wanda enjoyed so much but he loathed. He needed the comfort of home, the familiar to drag him from the hole he could feel himself sinking into. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t even enjoy himself on Christmas fucking Eve. He sighs as he flips onto his side and listens as the faint sounds of you puttering around the kitchen, his enhanced hearing allowing him to hear your humming of a Christmas song he can’t quite place, travel up the stairs and wrap him in a warm embrace.

He’s not sure when he drifted off, or for how long, but you pull him back to the surface of consciousness with three soft knocks on the cracked bedroom door. “Bucky?” you say softly, not daring to enter his space without an invitation. “Is everything alright?”

“Tired, I guess,” Bucky says as he pushes himself to sit up. As he swings his feet over the side, you push the door open a little more so that you can see him.

“There’s a...We have one more tradition that I’d like to share with you, but I wanted to do it separately.” You timidly step further into the room, arms held behind your back. “We usually share one present on Christmas Eve. Typically pajamas, sometimes just a gag gift. And I, uh, I wanted to make sure you were included this year.”

Bucky watches you carefully as you make your way to sit next to him on the bed. As you settle in on the mattress, you rest a neatly wrapped package on your lap. He watches as you run your hands along the paper in a nervous attempt to smooth out the nonexistent impurities. When he finally looks up to your face, he finds that you are already intently watching him, your gaze unwavering as his meets it.

“But I don’t have anything for you,” he nervously blurts out. He can feel the heat of embarrassment as it creeps up the back of his neck when you offer him a soft laugh.

“That’s not the point, Bucky. Just...here.”

You shove the gift into his hands and, as he examines it, he can feel you practically vibrating with the excited but nervous energy you’re not giving off. This was always the worst part of receiving gifts - having to open them in front of the giver. It always made Bucky a little anxious, worried that he wouldn’t deliver the expected or desired reaction. He smooths his hands over the silver paper a moment longer before he digs a finger into a seam in the wrapping. He’s slow to unwrap your gift, a part of him wishing that you hadn’t gifted him anything at all. Bucky didn’t have anything for you, and, the more he thinks about the fact he showed up to a holiday without even a small gift for the one who invited him, it makes him want to leave and never show his face around you or your family again.

When the wrapping is finally discarded, a brown leather book sits firmly in his lap. His name, his full name, is expertly embossed across the front, and the corners decorated with a simply but intricate design. When he flips it open to the first page, a set of familiar faces are smiling back up at him. His ma, dad, and himself with Becca tucked neatly in what he remembers to be a soft yellow blanket - the photo of when they brought her home, the first photo he saw when he visited her just two short months ago.

“I wanted to give you something special, meaningful,” you say when Bucky looks up at you. “Your family helped too. They gave me copies of your old pictures, provided some of their own.”

Bucky looks back to the book as he continues to flip. He watches himself grow older with each turn of the page. Pictures his ma had taken, some from school, even some from his time as a Howling Commando. Articles, magazine clippings, and copies of book pages filled the middle of the book, all about him, praising him for what he did and what they thought he lost his life doing. He can feel tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes as he looks over previously unread words of kindness, admiration, and sadness, all for him.

He doesn’t think he could feel any fuller until he flips to a hand-drawn picture of himself and Bridget, signed sloppily but in the most loving way. He can’t help but let out a watery laugh, and he can hear you add your own chuckle. “She was very excited when I asked her to contribute. That little girl loves you so much already, you know?”

Yes, Bucky knows. He knows his worth in this world now, thinks he’s finally found his misplaced spot in this place in time, and it’s all thanks to you. His chest grows tighter the further he flips in the scrapbook. Pictures of his sister when on her wedding day, when his first niece was born. Graduation photos, birthdays, and family get-togethers just because all were documented for him to see, for him to live through these pictures because he wasn’t around to bear witness in person.

When he gets to the very last pages, he pauses. A face he hadn’t expected to see smiling back at him was tucked neatly in this book, and it filled him with a warmth he thought his poor, frozen bones would never feel again. A picture of you and him on the day of Becca’s funeral, all smiles despite the somber day. It looks like you’re mid-laugh and had only just looked at the camera in time for the photo to capture your face. He’d almost forgotten that a family member - name and relation lost to him at the moment - had insisted on getting pictures of all those in attendance, had mentioned something about never seeing each other outside of things like these so he had to take advantage. He was glad that cousin or nephew or third-something-twice-removed had pestered them into taking it, because, despite not wanting to look at his broken, mismatched self, you were there shining brighter than he thinks he’s ever seen any star.

“Bucky,” you whisper, clearly unsure of what to make of his silence.

“I...I don’t know what to say, Y/N,” Bucky swallows the lump in his throat in an attempt to keep the tears that have begun to swell in his eyes from coming out in his voice. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me - done for me, actually.”

When he looks up at you, he tries to blink back the tears but it causes them to spill down onto his cheeks instead. “Oh, Bucky,” you gently laugh and raise a hand to wipe away his tears. When your hand makes contact with his cheek, however, you realize what you’re doing and make to pull it back. Bucky, however, is quicker and places his flesh hand on top of yours to hold it firmly to his fuzz-covered cheek.

“I lied,” he whispers and you give him a concerned and questioning look. “Earlier. I said I didn’t have a gift for you, but I do.” As he’s speaking, he slowly begins to lean in closer until your face-to-face, only a breath away from one another. “Only if you want it, though.”

You nod and bring your other hand up to fully cup his face as he closes the space between you, gently connecting your lips. It’s a slow, chaste kiss that has him craving more. More of the feel of your soft lips against his, more of your breath catching in your throat, more feeling your eyelashes butterfly across his own as you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against his. He opens his eyes slightly to get a peak of you. You’re already looking at him, a smile spread across your lips.

In that moment, he wishes he had the ability to read minds so that he could know exactly what you were thinking. Before he has the chance to say anything, you’re leaning back, this time pressing your lips more firmly against his own. If it weren’t for the fact he was so enraptured in the essence of you, he would be embarrassed by the low groan that rumbles deep in his chest. He feels your lips perk up into a wider smile before planting another quick peck to his lips before pulling away so that you could look him square in the eyes.

You brush a lock of his hair from his face and tuck it behind his ear before whispering, “Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

[visionsofus]

Hi! Just wanted to say that i'm living for you scarlet vision fanfic right now, they give me so much happiness and relief and they are so well-written that i'm re-reading them daily. I just wanted to ask if it's possible to have maybe If You Ever Come Back by The Script. I think that this will fit very well with our favourite synthezoid and witch.

Thank you again and please continue writing about them! Cheers and stay safe

hello! thank you so much for reading and reaching out with this song - it was perfect! I really hope you continue reading and enjoying this series ❤️ I hope you have a lovely morning/evening and are staying safe 

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |  

track #9: If You Ever Come Back by The Script 

synopsis: Wanda and Vision recall an argument that forced them to go their separate ways in the early days of their relationship post-CW. Upon finding out Wanda is near the Compound Vision can't help himself and seeks her out to apologise. (Happy resolution)

Wanda had only meant to draw one circle around New Jersey but in her distraction had kept the ballpoint moving in continuous circles so that it was now an unrecognisable big blue scribble.

“Wanda, present please,” Natasha said waving her hand in front of Wanda’s distant eyes.

“Sorry,” she murmured, instead starting to flip the pen nimbly about her fingers.

“As I was saying,” Steve said from where he was braced above the map of the US they had spread out. “We can’t afford any more international travel for a bit, not after Sam was spotted in Venice last week.”

Sam Wilson raised his hands in defence. “Hey, I was actually being very careful, it’s not my fault my fan club spans nations.”

“Regardless, no more international travel,” Steve said looking at them sternly in turn, “Wanda that means you too, no European rendezvous with Vision for the next two months.”

The ballpoint clattered onto the table before them, and Wanda watched it role miserably away. Natasha cleared her throat awkwardly and she could only imagine the looks that she was giving Steve. The pair seemed to be able to communicate most things through very specific glares. Right now, Wanda guessed Nat was giving him a look that said something along the lines of ‘shut up why are you bringing her ex into the conversation?’.

“Uhm,” Steve said slowly, “right yes, no international stuff so all in the US right now. That means we’re going to be moving around a little more frequently to keep out of any states with large security presences.”

“So for now,” Natasha continued on, “that means New Jersey, big things happening in California with old Chitauri tech so we’re staying as far away as possible.”

“We could help,” Wanda spoke up. “That stuff is right up our alley.”

“We can’t help if we’re imprisoned and I doubt they’ll let us out as easily a second time,” Sam pointed out and Steve nodded in agreement.

“I know you want to help,” Nat said putting an assuring hand on Wanda’s arm, “but the most we can do right now is stay far away. We’d be putting the others at risk by being there.”

The Others, code for those ex-teammates they didn’t like to mention despite the fact that they were all still on contact. Nat with Tony, Steve with T’Challa and well, up until a month ago, Wanda with Vision.

“Safe houses have been arranged for all of us, separately, so we don’t draw attention.”

Wanda sighed audibly, she hated the separate placements, hated the loneliness.

“It’ll only be for a few weeks,” Nat assured them as Steve handed out envelopes with their assigned houses, addresses, keys, the lot.

Standing up to get her things ready and make to leave the current safe house, Wanda was stopped by Natasha when she tried to leave the room.

“Wanda,” Nat said, her eyes concerned.

“I already know what you are going to say, and yes I am fine.”

“I don’t believe you though,” Nat said crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.

“Well, it’s not really my job to convince you,” Wanda said making to sidestep her.

“I’ve seen how you’ve been for the last month, you’re going to burn out at this pace. It couldn’t hurt to slow down and actually think about what happened between you two.”

Wanda shook her head wordlessly.

“I know it’s difficult but there’s no way you can move on if you don’t address it.”

“What if I don’t want to move on?” Wanda asked, frustrated at herself for how easily her accent burst forth.

Nat looked at her sadly, but not with pity, Wanda knew that there was genuine worry behind that gaze. Still, it didn’t make her feel any less crappy. “Look, thinking about it, thinking about him still hurts so I’d just rather not talk about it.”

“You still don’t want me to pass your whereabouts onto him?”

Wanda shook her head and finally succeeded in getting past Nat and into the corridor, where she sped walked to her room and set about gathering her things before she could be coaxed into another ‘let’s all talk about our feelings’ session.

Admittedly there was a part of her that wished Natasha would pass on her location to Vision, even if it was only just to see whether he would actually show up. But Wanda had made Nat promise not to reveal where she was staying in the past month, at least not until Wanda was ready for that. Vision was an addiction she needed to kick, and constantly reminding herself of him or thinking about the chance of a reunion certainly wasn’t going to help.  

“Vision I need you on and concentrating ok? Not away with the fairies,” Tony Stark said from where he stood at the front of the board meeting table.

“Apologies, I am present and involved,” Vision said shaking his head slightly to clear his mind, a mannerism he had picked up recently.

“As I was saying, two days from now we’re heading over West to deal with the Chitauri tech that is now a burning pile of shit thanks to—”

Vision didn’t mean to zone out again, but it was so easy to take a backseat in such conversations when he had the assurance that his brain would keep track of anything important Tony said. Lately he had been wishing that his brain was human, or at the very least that it wouldn’t move so fast so that he might be able to get a bit of peace and quiet.

His thoughts were always on her, Vision just couldn’t help it. At home he was always scouring the internet, dreading the moment he might see her name pop up on news feeds as it had with Sam’s the previous week. When he was away for work there was always a small part of his brain filtering through local security cameras, half hopeful that he would catch a glimpse of her somewhere nearby. She was a constant distraction, and it was becoming one of the many things making him seriously doubt the decision he had made those long weeks earlier. Which was strange because that decision had been a logical, rational answer to their problem, it had been a preventative measure for heartbreak. So why was his heart still hurting?

It had been six months since the events in Germany had divided the team he had come to know as friends. The absence of those who had brought such life to the compound had been noticed immediately. But it was Wanda whose absence he struggled with most, both while she was imprisoned and after Captain Rogers had broken her out.

Vision had gotten by on snippets of information fed to him through Natasha, to Tony and then finally to him. He had a suspicion that Stark had known exactly what he was doing in given that information to him. Sometimes it was mentioning which city their old teammates had been in the previous week, other times it was switching off the old school radio in his office just in time for Vision to hear Natasha’s voice crackling from it. Eventually, Vision had gathered enough pieces of the puzzle that he was able to track which radio frequencies they had been using to communicate with each other. He’d listened long enough to discover where Wanda was going to be next and showed up unannounced, despite the danger, despite the bridges burnt between them and the different paths they were on. But Wanda had welcomed him into her arms without hesitation and it had become clear that their connection was still there, as strong as ever. One thing had led to another and before he knew it, he was making time to travel and see her every few weeks. She usually chose Europe, and he was happy to see the world, if it was with her.

Their last trip hadn’t gone so well. They’d nearly gotten caught because Vision had slipped up on his way out of their rental property one morning, forgetting to glamour himself and letting someone get a photo of him. It had been circulating the internet and local media before Vision could stop the spread. Thankfully, Tony had a press release ready to go for this exact situation and made it clear that Vision was acting strictly within the limits of the Accords. It could have gone a lot worse, but it had also made several things clear to him. Their argument after the incident had been bad, to say the least.

“Isn’t it better we stop now before it hurts us both?” Vision cried after half an hour spent arguing over who ought to leave the apartment first. The damage was done on his side so if Vision was seen again it wouldn’t matter, but if Wanda was seen in the same city, he could kiss his currently peaceful relationship with the UN goodbye. On the other hand, if anyone decided to look too closely at his whereabouts of the last few days, Wanda would be discovered, and he didn’t know what he would do. The idea of her getting caught and imprisoned again was sickening.

The argument had got them nowhere. Each was too concerned about the other. He wanted her to leave, regardless of the risk this posed to himself, meanwhile Wanda wanted him to leave before he got caught with her and a target was placed on his back as well.

In the end the decision had to be made.

“It already hurts,” she’d yelled back at him, her eyes telling Vision all he needed to know.

“I cannot keep putting you at risk like this.”

“I am not asking you to!” She’d turned her head skyward in frustration. “This is worth it for me. You don’t get to make this decision for both of us!”

“I am making this decision,” Vision said his voice thick with emotion, walking backwards to the door, “and I am deciding to leave, before neither of us can.”

He’d hovered at the door, coat in hand but she’d already turned away to look out the window, watching rain drizzle dismally outside.

“Then go.”

He’d checked hundreds of radio frequencies in the weeks since, but had never caught them again, figuring that the four must have changed communication tactics since. It didn’t stop him from using the burner number that Tony had given him to reach Natasha. He was sure his messages were getting through, but there was never a reply. He supposed he was not really owed anything considering he was the one who had walked out. It didn’t matter that he’d regretted his decision ever since. Wanda didn’t know that he’d missed two trains all because he couldn’t bring himself to take the next, more final step away from her and everything they had been together.

Back in reality Tony had come to the end of his debrief and had ended the call they’d been on with various other officials related to managing the presence of super-humans in the country.

“When are we leaving on Thursday?” Vision asked, a hopeless attempt at pretending he’d been listening properly.

“Iam leaving on Thursday afternoon; you are staying here.”

Vision was stumped. “Why?”

“Because you are in no state to be heading out on a potentially sensitive mission right now, you could barely pull yourself together for a meeting, Vision.”

Tony sighed with such disappointment that Vision regretted being so absent the last few weeks. He’d been sure to be there as much as he could after the team had disbanded, allowing Tony to delegate to him when needed. But this last month he’d let things slide more than he’d realised, Tony looked tired.

“I’d like to disagree with your decision,” Vision began, standing as Tony made to leave the room, “but I cannot help but think you’re right. If I could just have the weekend to reassess my priorities, I would be back to regular working capacity by Monday.”

“And I want to say I believe you,” Tony said leading the way back through the compound. “But you don’t have a good track record with this particular type of distraction.”

Vision hovered by the front door with his head hung in shame. He heard the beeping of Tony unlocking his car and the soft hiss of air as the door opened automatically.

“She’s in New Jersey this week.”

Vision paused on his closing of the front door.

“I thought you should know,” Tony said rubbing at his chin as he paused by the car, “Address is 22 Steel street, don’t get caught.”

Wanda hated how much America reminded her of Vision now. That was why she was thinking about him so much – it was definitely New Jersey’s fault. It was the proximity to the upstate Compound that had her thinking of him so often. It had to be.

They were done, Vision had made that so very clear the last time she had seen him. But it hadn’t stopped her staying another few days at the house they had rented together in some desperate attempt to come to terms with yet another person leaving her life. At least he was still out there, living a life just not with her.  

She pressed her palms into the kitchen bench and took a deep breath. She was halfway through washing up the dishes from the day, but she’d already slipped and broken one glass by accident and was on the verge of giving up. It was frustrating. Wanda could control other people’s minds with ease. She hadn’t had reason to in a while but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel that dormant aspect of her power waiting to be used. So how come she couldn’t manage her own mind? Why was she grieving the loss of someone still alive?

Wanda knew that Steve and Nat had struggled to understand what she had with Vision, and it didn’t help that she herself struggled to put it into words. They hadn’t labelled themselves in the months since they started stealing moments together, it had all been to see if there was something more there. Something worth pursuing. And well, Wanda had thought they were on the same page but evidently, she’d been wrong. She just couldn’t bring herself to believe that those feelings weren’t real. Hope was a pain in the ass.  

And she supposed her alertness these past few days could be owed to him as well. Of course, there was the general haze of fear to consider, the fear that one of these days a SWAT team would arrive at her door to take her back to prison. But on the other side of that coin, she knew there was a fraction of her that was listening out for him. It was painful, knowing he was so close. It didn’t stop her listening out for him, for his soft footsteps, his steady breathing, for the comforting presence of him and the way their minds called out to each other. Even before they’d started meeting like this, he had always been the first one she looked for in a fight, the first person her eyes fell on when she walked in a room, the one person she always wanted to have in her corner.

She paused the absentminded drying of a plate and realised that the imagined footsteps outside weren’t in her head. There was most definitely someone walking up and down the creaky floorboards of the run-down townhouse she’d been assigned to for the two weeks. She’d picked the floorboards out as her first warning if any unwanted guests stopped by the property, probably followed by the breaking of the two locks in the front door.

The closer she listened the more she could hear weight shifting and creaking wood.

Wanda crept through the still unfamiliar house, out of the kitchen and down the dim hallway to the door. As she approached the pacing paused and she distinctly heard a fist rapping on the wooden door three times.

She rose on her toes to peer through the peep hole. A familiar figure was standing on the porch with a head of neat, sandy hair and a carefully pressed blue shirt. Her hand flew to her mouth to hide the exclamation of surprise threatening to come forth. She dropped her hand quickly and stepped back, subconsciously reaching out and letting her magic unlock the door, sending it swinging open.

Wanda didn’t really know what to say as Vision turned around at the sound of the door creaking open. She simply stood there looking at him, fearful that she was imagining things and that he wasn’t really here. She tilted her head in question.

“Mr Stark told me you were here,” Vision said quietly, glancing over his shoulder as though worried someone might be watching them, but the street at his back was deserted. “I’m sorry for just showing up out of the blue.”

Wanda folded her arms, wrapping her cardigan further around herself against the night chill from outside. A deeper cold was spreading through her at the unnatural tension between them, even as she fought the urge to step forward and embrace him. “And why are you here?” She asked instead.

“I made a mistake, and I’d like to fix it.”

“How?”

“I’d like to start by talking, if you wouldn’t mind me coming in?”

Wanda bit her lip hesitantly but knew she couldn’t keep him waiting out on the doorstep. She stepped to the side and nodded for him to come in.

Wanda led him to the kitchen and settled herself opposite the table, so she could lean with the comforting pressure of the kitchen bench at her back.

She watched his eyes flicker about as he entered the space, taking in the washing in the sink, the bread open on the counter and the remains of her supper littered here and there. She suddenly wished she’d finished cleaning quicker. Wanda saw a lot in his gaze, knowing from months of meeting up as a fugitive that he was concerned about how well she was eating on the run. His gaze turned to her next, taking in her clothes, her face, the distinct bags under her eyes and Wanda couldn’t help but soften her stance, unfolding her arms but maintaining the distance she needed.

Vision had dropped his human glamour as soon as he entered the house and she watched as he now stood before her, hardly believing it was real.  

“I will not attempt to make excuses, I owe you more than that,” Vision said after a beat seemingly to collect himself. She was unnerved by his unwavering eye contact but met him head on.

“I was wrong. I thought that putting space between us was the right thing to do but I regretted that as soon as I left you standing there. I have regretted it every day since. I know that I was afraid, afraid of what we might become if I didn’t stop things where they were.” He paused for breath. “It wasn’t until I sat on the train that I realised the idea of living a life without you hurt more than I could bear. Perhaps that makes me selfish, wanting to keep meeting up and putting you at risk. But it is the truth. And if I could change things, if I could go back, I would behave differently.”

Wanda felt her breath loose out over her lips, a quiet sigh of relief.

“I would have told you all this the day after I left if I knew how I might reach you. I’m sorry.”

Wanda swallowed, taking a breath to think about what he had said. There was little to think about, she had forgiven Vision the moment she realised it was him standing on her porch. Learning now that he had tried to reach out for her in the past few weeks, something she hadn’t dared hope, and that she had stubbornly not let him in hurt more than she’d expected it to. They’d both made mistakes.

“As much as I hated being left like that, I understand why you did,” Wanda said earnestly.

“I was a fool,” Vision said shaking his head shamefully.

“That makes two of us.” Wanda smiled softly at him.

“I never could have stayed away,” he admitted, gesturing restlessly with his hands.

“I should have let you in sooner.”

Vision wasn’t often hesitant, but he paused before his next words. “Can you forgive me?” He stepped forward as he spoke.

This movement was all the invitation Wanda needed and she pulled away from the bench as he drew closer. They met each other in the middle, his arms coming around her waist, her hands sliding over his shoulders in a hug. They swayed for a moment, relishing the closeness.

“Forgiven,” she murmured to him, though she was sure the hug said it clearer. “No going back,” she added, considering making a joke about cold feet.

“I can’t help but think this was inevitable,” he said quietly from where his chin was pressed to her shoulder, his breath ruffling her hair. “That no matter the bridges we burnt, or how our paths changed, you were always going to be my future.” She hugged him tighter.

“But we need rules from now on,” Wanda said drawing back a little so she could see his face clearly, “like not getting photographed by tourists.”

“I will never live that down, will I?” Vision groaned but smiled nonetheless.

“Never,” she whispered, scrunching her nose at him affectionately, then growing more serious, “please don’t leave me again.”

“Never,” he promised pressing his forehead to hers in understanding.

[bird-in-a-cage]

#42 from the prompt list... I mean I'm sorry but... I NEED TO SEE THAT.

Wow, am I sorry this took so long! This was a tough prompt but, thanks to @cockasinthebird for being a wonderful human being, we got through it. So I hope this was worth the wait!

Prompt list is here if anyone wants to throw a prompt at me!

#42: “I didn’t say “sex party” as in orgy.  I said “hex party” as in witches.”

So far, college had been okay. It was as hard and challenging as Steve had expected, but he was getting on almost well. He had to spend a lot of time studying in the library, reading and re-reading source materials, typing, editing, deleting and starting all over again with essays and assignments sure. But it was different from high school, on a deep level he wanted to be here, amongst the old stone buildings that either held no heat at all or far too much depending on the weather outside, surrounded by people who also shared a passion for learning. It was different to focus on what he wanted to learn instead of just having to cram a little bit of everything into his brain everyday.

Turns out, if he was just allowed to go a little slower and take his time, he wasn’t as dumb as everyone back home at thought.

He’d gotten into college by the skin of his teeth, pulling far too many all nighters and living off five hour energy to drag his grades up when it was almost too late, pulling in every favour he had to retake anything below a C with nothing but a prayer and a pleading smile, somehow managing to not go completely insane in the process. Getting a 3 point grade average at graduation had been nothing short of a miracle. He wanted to say his parents had nothing to do with his acceptance into quite a nice school, but in reality Steve knew they probably greased a palm or two. Maybe helped pay for the new set of band uniforms that were recently unveiled.

The college itself was beautiful. Steve had fallen for it on his first visit. Old stone buildings, a large green campus area, a good surrounding community, regular activities and groups to go meet up with and try different things with now he was getting out of small town Hawkins and away from being stuck in what he knew. 

There was something a bit…odd about the college though. Steve would be sat in the library, for example, finishing up a comparison piece when he would hear the telltale low battery beep from his headphones. He always forgot to bring a charger. He knew it was on his nightstand back in the dorm room, wrapped around the drawer handle so he wouldn’t forget to lift it this time, so it was pointless checking his bag for it. He would go to pack his things away, open up his slouchy backpack and there it would be, his exact one because he’d wrapped a piece of green tape around it when his roommate kept stealing it and swearing blind he hadn’t, laying curled around his water bottle..

That wasn’t the only example though. Things would just appear when he was looking for them. Books he needed from a completely different section would just happen to be on the shelf he was currently looking at. If a flavour of soda was sold out at a vending machine, he would pick another, but the one he originally wanted would tumble out, ice cold and somehow impossibly refreshing. None of them were a major inconvenience by far, but it was just odd. 

The only small downside to the college of his dreams is that he forgot to investigate anything about the fraternities and sororities. Steve didn’t really have any desire to be in any frat even if offered, they were just houses for boys to pretend not to be at least a little bicurious as they bumped into each other all sweaty playing sports, using basketball as an excuse to touch each other’s muscles. Flat out no homo-ing each other. Steve was out and proud at college, didn’t need an excuse anymore other than “you’re hot, you wanna?”. The days of bi-panic and needing a thinly veiled excuse such as helping someone he thought was cute off the ground in the middle of a match were long gone.  Steve had been to a couple of frat parties, naturally, everyone did. They were kinda fun if you hung around outside away from the thick, choking air of sexual tension that was threatening to bubble over at any minute.

Everyone knew frat houses were just potential orgy dens, right?

There was one frat house though, just off campus and to the right a little, that gave off a weird vibe. The Omega House. It didn’t look that special, had dark grey panelling on the outside, windows trimmed in white, the omega symbol on the outer wall above the door painted in silver that reflected the sunlight and looked almost like real silver. Like the college itself, it was just odd. As far as Steve could tell it didn’t have many members, only four, as far as he’d counted, would walk around in blazing orange letterman jackets with that emblem stitched into the back and a smaller one on the front right breast. He didn’t know what majors they took, probably all on sports scholarships with how stacked a couple of them looked, and one liked to hang around the library. Always in sunglasses even indoors, tight jeans to combat the slightly too big jacket. Blonde hair shaved at the sides but longer on top, not wildly long but just enough for natural loose curls to develop.

Not that Steve had been looking at how handsome he was at all.

Thinking about it, he seemed to always be around when the odd things happened. When there would suddenly be a spare chair even though all the tables were packed with other students trying to do their work, a fresh stack of post it notes in Steve’s bag when he needed to write an annotation down quickly, a newly sharpened pencil just happening to be on the floor by his feet when he’d lost his before class. The rain suddenly starting as soon as Steve got into a building when he’d forgotten an umbrella like it was waiting for him to be safe and dry.

There was just something weird about the whole thing. Not enough for him to freak out and want to go home though, no way. He could deal with weird and slightly odd far better than being stuck in a town going nowhere, where his only future was getting a job in his father’s company and a wife he didn’t love, cranking out a couple kids after a year of so and slowly but surely morphing into a mirror image of the man he lowkey despised.

Even the thought of that was horrifying. It was bad enough that genetically they might look similar one day. Hopefully many, many years in the future. When plastic surgery was cheap.

The library was quiet when Steve entered. Of course it was, it was a Friday night. There were a number of parties and gatherings happening all over the place, but this week he’d promised himself to be good. Study now and party later. He’d been invited to a glow paint, totally-not-a-rave party happening just outside of town that he was pretty excited for. He’d been focusing hard on his studies so it was time to let off some steam. And maybe that steam had been building for quite some time cause ol’ Lefty wasn’t doing the trick anymore, mashing his face into a pillow in the dead of night, furiously jacking off under a blanket and praying his roommate didn’t wake up or come back soon. And, maybe sometimes, Steve thought about that cute blonde in the Omega House jacket and how good it would be to see those thick lips all slick and swollen wrapped around his cock. Really those thoughts were just between him and God, who he hoped wasn’t paying attention most of the time he was alone in his room.

Steve found the spot he liked, towards the back facing towards the window where he couldn’t be distracted by people walking in, and pulled his laptop and the well annotated copy of Dracula he was working from. His half finished essay sat on the screen, cursor blinking at him accusingly, demandingly even. He sighed at it and opened up to the page he was last working from when the chair next to him was pulled out. Not even one or two over, obeying the unspoken rule of the Personal Study Bubble. No, the very next chair. Steve could see orange reflected on his screen. He frowned slightly and turned to just give a passing glance, hoping for a the fuck? expression, when he saw staggeringly blue eyes staring back, nestled into tan freckled skin, natural curls just reaching down into the field of view. The regular sunglasses had been tucked up into the neck of a black tee. The back of Steve’s neck felt instantly hot as he looked away, hoping for a moment he hadn’t been seen, but that was impossible. He was right there.

“Hey, haven’t seen you around before. Must be in the same class though.” His voice was deep and Steve felt his legs turn a little bit to jello. He chanced another glance and saw the guy was holding a copy of Dracula too. Steve wasn’t sure he’d been holding it before… 

“Well, I attend almost every lecture…”

“You must do if you’re in here by yourself on a Friday,” the guy smiled. It didn’t look cruel, neither did it sound like he was making fun. This was already confusing, and Steve wasn’t the greatest with people at the best of times, let alone he around guys he thought were kind of stupidly handsome from afar, and apparently just stunning close up.

Steve just nodded and shifted in his seat slightly since this guy clearly wasn’t going to go away any time soon. He didn’t have anything on the table in front of him, didn’t even look like he had a backpack for the potential of anything. The odd feeling was definitely strong and getting stronger. “Can I… can I help you with something?”

“That depends,” the book was quickly tossed aside and the guy nudged closer with his chair, Steve could smell his cologne. It didn’t smell like anything he’d tried before. It was floral but dark and spicy, but also fruity too. Slightly burnt lemon and vanilla loaf? His hand wrapped easily around Steve’s freer one. His skin was warm, a little rough maybe from weightlifting which he clearly did, applying a comforting amount of pressure. Steve couldn’t help the skin on his arm breaking out in goose pimples. He glanced at their hands together and his throat felt impossibly tight. “I’m Billy by the way.”

“Steve...”

“Great. So, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but things can be a little, strange around here-”

Steve glanced at their hands again, felt that blue steel bore into his eyes and further back. “Oh they’re strange alright…”

“You ever wondered why?” This guy, Billy, grinned something devilish and let Steve’s hand go only to put it on his knee, squeezing firm but not unpleasant. Steve was sure he was starting to sweat under the attention of all this. Yeah he had fooled around with a couple guys drunk at parties, stumbled into a dorm room or two he didn’t recognise to have some fun and wake up with carpet burns over his back and his knees, but this felt very direct. Especially when Billy’s hand started slowly drifting higher. Steve couldn’t even say he didn’t want it, he’d been staring at this guy from a distance for months now, but to have him suddenly be right in front and touching with obvious intent. It was something else.

“Uh, n-not really. Sometimes maybe?”

Billy’s eyes turned from cool to blazingly erotic in an instant, for just a moment, then back to cool again. He nudged even closer into Steve’s bubble, who was more helpless than a fish on dry land at this moment. 

“Would you like to know why?” The way Billy’s tongue licked over the L was something filthy. If Steve had been set jello before he was now quickly melting into a sweet pool of tangy cherry. “My friends and I can show you.”

Steve felt like he was drowning. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening. But still BIlly’s firm hand crept ever higher until he was practically cupping Steve through his jeans, inching closer until their lips were connected in the middle of the library. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed. He was already boiling alive in his skin from all the attention and Billy’s lips weren’t helping. They were as plush as Steve had imagined. Maybe not in the right area just yet but with the way Billy was pushing his palm directly against Steve’s slowly awakening dick they just might be soon.

He was half hard when Billy pulled away, flushed bright red like he’d been sunburnt.

“Come by the house tomorrow night, you’ll see. We promise you’ll enjoy it.” 

With that, Billy winked, slipped his sunglasses back on and left. Steve blinked at nothing for a long time, trying to piece together what the hell had just happened to him.

Did… did he just get invited to an orgy?

He packed up quickly and went back to his dorm, there was no way any studying was going to happen now. It didn’t happen throughout all of Saturday either. Just the memory of the whole short incident rolling around and around in Steve’s mind, of Billy’s words dripping from those lips and the feel of his hand pressing just right.

He’d definitely gotten invited to an orgy.

He lay on his bed for a while just thinking, tapping his forefingers together as something for them to do. Steve was kind of flattered really, he knew he was nice looking, but there were far better looking guys on campus, and from the stories he’d heard they’d probably be up for it no questions asked. It also popped into his head that the guys he’d seen wearing the orange Omega jackets were a lot more jacked than he was, and Steve had seen enough porn to know what that probably meant. A part of him knew this was utterly insane. Shit like this didn’t happen without a bored camera crew and fourteen different close up angles.

But then maybe it did happen. He was from a small town after all. He was pretty sure his neighbours three doors down were swingers from all the cars that would suddenly appear once a month for just a night. Least that was the rumor that he may or may not have pushed a couple times. And, afterall, wasn’t this what college was about? Being out there and experimenting with crazy shit you wouldn’t do in the real world. He’d taken ecstasy in his first few weeks at a warehouse party, he had no desire to do that back home.

So, maybe he was warming up to the idea of being a bottom at an orgy party being held in the weird grey frat house. Who was anyone to judge? Steve just wasn’t going to tell anyone about it, that’s all.

He felt nervous standing on the front steps of the Omega House. All the blinds were drawn inside. He didn’t know what to bring, what was customary? It didn’t feel right to bring, like, snacks, so he’d just brought himself, already flushing and trying not to get hard by just the thought of Billy getting his hands on him again, how good he must look naked and sweating, finding out what those lips could really do.

The man himself answered the door after two sharp knocks. The grin he wore was sinful, eyes wild and excited, grip firm as he pulled Steve easily inside the dark room. Steve wasn’t sure what to expect, but low mood lighting, a coffee table in the middle of three couches covered in books and blank papers, and every other surface holding up thick lit candles dripping with wax wasn’t it. It also appeared to be just the two of them.

It wasn’t entirely what he had signed up for. But Steve wasn’t exactly complaining.

“Man, am I happy you actually came,” Billy started, pulling his letterman off and hanging it over the banister like a coat hook. His black tee had the sleeves ripped off, his arms were nothing short of statue worthy. He ruffled his hair a little, the curls bobbing just so. They looked delightfully soft. “The rest of the guys are at some sorority bullshit, but they’ll be here later.”

“Uh, o-okay, cool.” Steve tried to sound confident as he went to go take a seat on one of the couches. Billy sat next to him, up close and personal again and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He was radiating body heat which Steve wanted to eat up greedily. He noticed some of the books on the table. A copy of Frankenstein, a very old looking copy of Dracula, maybe second edition, a copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and copies of both Malleus Maleficarum and A Guide to Modern Witchcraft. Those titles mixed with all the candles and the mood lighting and Billy’s staring and frankly demonic grin led Steve down the path that seemed the most obvious to him.

This was a sex cult house. And it was about to get all Rosemary’s Baby up in here.

Billy’s hand was back on his thigh again, heavy and pressing, taking Steve out of his deep barrel of thoughts. The grin was back on his tanned features. “You look nervous.” He gave Steve’s thigh a squeeze. Even though he had no idea what was going on it still made his cock jump alert in his jeans.

“Well, I’ve never exactly been to… one of these before…”

Billy’s eyebrows furrowed together a little, he still wore a smile though. It suited his face. “One of what?”

“You know...?” Steve rolled his hands as his face turned ever redder. He was sure it could almost be seen from space. He wasn’t a prude by any means, but growing up in quite a strict household meant he just struggled saying some things out loud. So he whispered it instead. “...an orgy?”

Billy stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter that wasn’t at all humiliating. He must have sensed Steve’s rapidly growing discomfort and indignity because the laughter quickly died and turned more into gentle questioning. “Did you think that was what this was gonna be?”

“Well I don’t know what else this would be!” Steve spat out in frustration. He hated not knowing the whole story and here he felt he barely even knew the first line of the novel. Billy smiled warm like a summer day and cupped his cheek. He felt instantly calmed, being swallowed up by those cool blues like a gentle river on an August afternoon.  “I said I’d explain about all the odd things that happen around campus. They’re from us in this house. We’re kind of, different.”

“Different how?”

Billy took his hand back and snapped his fingers loud and piercing. All the candles extinguished themselves at once. Not a breeze to be felt. It wasn’t scary, or spooky, but it was pretty cool. “Different different. You’re the only person who’s seemed to notice. And, by house law, that means you get initiated. You get to know that we’re all witches.”

The word hung in the air and seemed ridiculous. But, at the same time, it didn’t. It did certainly explain how chargers and post its and pencils would suddenly just appear whenever Steve needed them. He still wasn’t completely convinced though.

“Witches?” He repeated back carefully, just in case he’d heard that wrong too. Billy nodded and clapped his hands. Every candle reignited themselves, flickering back to life one by one in a circle around the room. A bottle of whiskey and cans of coke appeared on the table where there had been just papers before. The books remained. There was a proud look on his face. Short of being drugged at the door and this all being a crazy fever dream, this was definitely real. Steve didn’t really have any reason to not believe his eyes and what was happening around him. Billy didn’t look like David Copperfield that was for sure. “So, not an orgy?”

“No. Not an orgy.” Billy chuckled and repeated back. He must have seen Steve’s face go from confused to understanding to a little disappointed all within the space of a few seconds because his hand was high on Steve’s thigh again. Maybe the guy just didn’t understand personal space? That seemed growingly likely. “I don’t think I’d wanna share you anyway.”

Steve felt the flush on his face again, but he grinned through it this time. Weird, spooky, otherworldly shit could be saved for later if there was even a chance of getting what he’d been thinking alone in his bed. “But you’d wanna maybe...?”

He let the question stay floating between them as Billy smirked lewd and pressed himself up against Steve’s body. “Bet you’d love to find out what I can do with my fingers pretty boy…”

Oh, Steve really would.

[jjba-arni-reblog]

Evening

Ay, the 1st  prize is here. Thank you again @haruggio for participating and requesting such a cute scenario. It was a pleasure to write for you! I hope you and anyone else will like it. Jolyne needs more love!

Pairing: Jolyne/Reader

Words: 2k+ 

~~~

The warm of the Floridian sun touched your skin as you walked towards a house after grocery shopping. It wasn’t a big house, but it sure felt welcoming. This was the place you shared with Jolyne, your girlfriend. To say that the way you got together was ‘special’ would be an understatement.

You knew Jolyne before the whole incident of her getting into prison (yet again), being somewhat awkward friends at first. It wasn’t unusual for you to bail her out of the prison on regular as the woman frequently got into fights, whether to defend someone or just because. Jolyne would always smile as you nagged her about the many incidents of her having a short temper.  Unsurprisingly, you met Jolyne’s mom in the prison too, as the two of you were there to ‘rescue’ Jojo. She was a nice lady, worrying over her only daughter endlessly. However, you never saw a father figure in Jolyne’s life, as the teenager at that time stated multiple times that she doesn’t want to see her father.

However, the fate decided the other way. You met Jolyne again in the prison, however the circumstances were different this time. You were framed by an old friend of yours. It felt almost concerning how much your and Jolyne’s stories aligned together. Even though Jojo was ecstatic to see you again, you knew she felt worried over her and your futures. You two met another woman name Hermes, quickly becoming friends and trying to survive the prison life together.

Around the same time, Jolyne met her father for the first time in years. After the unfortunate meeting you were the one listening to her complains at the young women couldn’t help but to despise her father for many reasons.

It was also because of her father that the three of you got stands, which almost immediately made you face other stands user, whether friendly or not. You met another group of people consisting of two men and a small child, further forming a circle of friend, even if Anasui was a bit weird.

At some point, the true villain revealed himself. Pucci. The man was an eery priest in the prison, however his further action proved him to be a horrible man, as he stole Jotaro’s memories, making Jolyne even more distressed. And so the hunt began. You faced many opponents during that time, resulting in multiple scars as the enemies got crueller each time. However, you also found love and support from Jolyne, as the woman casually confessed to you, worried that she might not have another opportunity to do so. Even if the time wasn’t right, one needs to take the best out of it. That is, until Pucci decided to appear once again. But this time, his ultimate plan wasn’t to steal one’s memories. Instead he longed for a bigger achievement. Changing the universe. Reaching heaven.

He didn’t.

He lost to the man he gained the last piece of the puzzle. Jotaro Kujo landed the final punch, anger overwhelming the man at the sight of knifes sticking out of his daughter. And you. You partially shielded your dearest friend, desperate to not let Pucci win. And it worked. The injuries weren’t as deep, and she was able to survive with the help of the medics from the Speedwagon foundation. The whole group miraculously survived, with Weather, Foo Fighters and Jotaro having the worst wounds.

From that point on, came the long physical and mental therapy as the nightmares hunted all of you, the sheer fear over your loved ones. Together, it felt easier. Even if a little.

Over the time, things got better, you and Jolyne were given a separate home, surprisingly from Jotaro as the man understood that your relationship was serious. He announced it through a call, sending keys later and giving the address. It was a small but a significant start.

You were approaching your shared house, grocery bags in hands as you manoeuvred your keys out of the pocket, opening the door to let yourself in. You then announced your arrival as per usual.

You closed the door after yourself, eyeing the living room in search for your girlfriend. It was surprisingly quiet, no usual warm greetings and Jolyne running out of the room to bring you into a crushing hug.

‘Strange’ you thought, putting the bags down to take off your jacket, then hanging it in a small dresser.

“Jolyne?” you called for her, thinking that maybe she is just listening to music and didn’t hear you arrive. Before you could take another step, Jolyne suddenly appeared from the ceiling supported by her stand’s ropes.

You let out a scream at her ‘surprise’ as she started to laugh, hanging down from the ceiling like a spider. It took you a moment to calm down, then eyeing her annoyingly. The surprise worked.

“Jesus, Jolyne, what the hell?” you smacked her shoulder a little as the woman before you was chuckling still, her hair handing down as her usually buns were unravelled, showing off her long hair.

“Surprise” she smirked at your annoyed face, pulling herself up a little so that your head was on the same level “Now, where is my kiss, Mary Jane?” Jolyne wiggled her eyebrows at you, still hanging upside down. Seems like it was her plan all along.

“Sometimes I can’t believe how cheesy you are, Jojo” you felt your annoyance disappear a little at her suggestion. Seeing her smiling widely at you and waiting for her kiss, you couldn’t help but to ease up and smile back at her.

“Alright,” you sighed a little at her mischievous nature, stepping closer so you could place your hands on her cheeks, itching closer.

You felt her plump lips against yours as you tilted your head a little for a better angle while tracing her cheeks with your hands. You could feel her smiling eagerly into the kiss.

Pulling away, you couldn’t help but to smile at her now slightly blushing face.

“Are you happy now?” you asked Jolyne as she stared at you lovingly. She never failed to be charming.

“With you – always,” she winked, chuckling at your eyeroll.

Jolyne jumped down, landing on the floor as she noticed the bags.

“Let me help you,” she quickly insisted, taking the bags and carrying them to the kitchen. You couldn’t waste the opportunity to look at her beautiful and quite muscular back. All the fights and working out in the prison only made her more athletic, which she would often use to her advance, carrying and lifting you.

“Whatcha got there?” you could hear Jolyne from the kitchen as you took off your shoes. Standing up, you walked towards the kitchen, joining your girlfriend.

“Well, I thought we could cook some homemade brigadeiro,” you explained, taking things out of the bag and placing them on a counter “oh, I also got us pasta,” you showed her the package, putting it away from the ingredients for the sweets.

“Can’t wait!” Jolyne answered happily, now helping you by sorting ingredients and putting some of them in the fridge. She then moved to stand next to you, as you took out measuring tools. You told her to check your phone for the recipe, so you two could start cooking.

After you properly measured the needed amount of ingredients, you two slowly cooked next to each other as Jolyne told you about a recent call from Weather.

“Please tell me you are joking,” you tried not to chuckle as you heard the news.

“No, for real! He cried after meeting Mickey Mouse,” Jolyne smirked, re-telling the story. Weather, Anasui and Foo Fighter had plans to go visit Disneyland and it seemed like they succeeded in doing so this weekend.

“That is very cute,” you noted, stirring the chocolate in a pan as you continued to listen to Jolyne.

“They also went to a haunted house, ending with Foo Fighters almost fighting the actors and Anasui being carried by Weather”

“Oh”

You two burst out laughing.

After a while, you mixed the ingredients together, then putting dirty plates and cups in the sink as you let the mix for the supposed brigadeiros to cool down.

“Hey,” Jojo called for you, as you dried your hands on the towel.

“What?” you turned around, only to be met with a cheeky grin.

“Boop” Jolyne said, as she smeared chocolate on your nose, effectively ‘booping’ you.

“Hey!” you exclaimed as she laughed “Don’t play with food, Jojo” you rolled your eyes smiling a little.

As you washed off the chocolate, you couldn’t help but to smirk at the idea that popped up in your mind.

You made your hands wet again with the water, turning towards your girlfriend yet again. Before she could say anything, you splashed her with water a little as you could hear Jojo’s surprised gasp at your action.

You quickly found yourself behind the counter as you mirrored Jolyne’s playful expression as she stood in the opposite.

“You gonna get it,” she warmed you, itching closer to you as you stepped back a little, making sure you had the distance to escape her.

“Only if you’ll catch me” you winked at her, moving a little. Jolyne quickly tried to run towards you, resulting in you two making a circle around the counter. Trying to reach you from across it seemed futile as you leaned back while chuckling at your girlfriend.

“Don’t make me use my stand,” Jojo playfully threatened you, making her stand manifest slightly behind her.

“Don’t make me eat all the chocolate,” you answered back, seeing slightly shocked expression on woman’s face.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Jolyne exclaimed theatrically.

“We’ll see about that,” you smirked, eyeing the mix as Jojo followed your gaze. She quickly looked back at you, teasing smile on her face as she ran around the counter. You were quick to run as well, now ending in a reverse position.

After a couple more minutes of running, you suddenly felt her catch you, wrapping her arms tightly around you from behind. Jolyne spun you around. She quickly hugged you closer, attacking you with kisses, planting them across your face as you couldn’t help but to giggle in her strong hold.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” you kissed her cheek as Jojo eased her hold on you, nuzzling into your beck affectionately

“You are even sweeter than chocolate,” she said. You felt your cheeks warm up a little, running your hand through her loosely tied hair.

You two decided to check on the mix, making them into balls and then covering them in sprinkles. The result tasted really sweet as you two commented on your hard work.

You decided to then watch a movie. You were checking if there was anything on the TV when you heard sounds coming from the kitchen. Rolling your eyes, you called for your girlfriend.

“Don’t eat everything, Jojo”

“I can’t help it,” Jolyne mumbled, you could hear that she has already stuffed her mouth with sweets. She then took some of the brigadeiros as well as salty snacks to you. You already had blankets prepared for the full cuddling session.

Jolyne moved closer as you shared your blanket with her. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around you, cuddling you as you two lied down, surrounded by soft pillows around you. You had previously dimmed the lights for the full movie atmosphere.

As a first movie was playing, you felt her itching closer to you.

“Hey” she whispered in your ear “hey, hey” she continued.

“Yes?” you answered back, not quite sure what to expect.

“Wanna hear a spoiler?” you could almost hear the cheekiness in her voice as Jojo smiled evilly.

“Don’t you dare,” you harshly whispered back.

“But what if the main character…”

“Don’t”

“Well…hypothetically………was to die at the end?”

“Jolyne!” you exclaimed.

“Well, HYPOTHETICALLY”

“It means he will, right?” you sighed, now turning your head towards Jojo.

“Well, who knows?~” she winked at you, kissing your cheek affectionately.

“I can’t with you, Jojo. He better not die at the end,” you eyed her half-sternly as she made puppy eyes. She brought you closer into the hug, placing her head on your chest area, using you as a pillow.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” you casually warned her, itching down to kiss her head.

“You are way too comfortable,” Jolyne answered, squeezing you a little. You traced patterns on her arms as you two were about the finish the movie. Thankfully, the main character did not die.

You decided to put on another film.

“Oh, this one! I saw it, here the dude actually dies!” Jolyne suddenly spoke up.

“STOP!” you half chuckled, getting up and hitting her with a pillow.

“Oh, it’s on” Jolyne smirked, getting herself a pillow and starting the fight.

Neither of you eventually won as Jolyne tiredly tackled you, effectively hugging you again.

“Alright, draw?” she asked, panting a little.

“Yes, please” was your answer.

Jojo itched closer, kissing you as you wrapped your arms around her neck. After couple of second, you broke it off. You felt Jolyne kiss your nose as you two got comfortable again.

“Hey, you know…”

“What is it?”

“I want you to meet my parents”

This was not what you expected.

“Well, we have met…” you said, unsure if you could call it a ‘real’ meeting. You surely met her mother multiple times. In case of her father, the circumstances weren’t the best.

“No, no, for real this time. Without all….this, without the panic and the need to bail me out” your girlfriend chuckled at the fond memory “they seem interested in learning about my social life….well, mom mostly. You know how my dad is,” Jolyne explained, her eyes shifting a little at the mention of her father.

“Yeah… he is pretty intimidating,” you hesitated on how to describe the man.

“More like lame. He still wears his snake pants even though he is forty. Talk about fashion disaster,” Jolyne rolled her eyes, laughing a little as she remembered the infamous outfit of her dad.

“Well, how about a dinner or something?” you suggested. The look on Jolyne’s face has changed to an excited one.

“Oh, that would be great! And we can make brigadeiros again!” she faced you, smiling widely at the idea of cooking together again.

“That is, if you won’t eat everything before we will meet them,” you raised your eyebrow, chuckling as Jolyne’s expression changed into a slightly offended one.

“Rude”

Jojo pinched your side a little, making you yelp.

“Alright, alright~” you pecked her lips.

She turned towards the small table, taking her phone from it. Jojo messaged her mom as your eyes were on the TV.

“I asked about the date and if my dad will be available,” Jolyne explained, putting her phone away and hugging you again.

After a couple of minutes, you heard a notification sound. Jolyne took her phone, opening the messages.

“How about the next weekend? We don’t have any plans, right?” she asked, ready to type the response back.

“None that I remember of,” you answered.

“Then it is settled,” Jojo concluded “Ah, maybe now my mom will stop nagging me about you. She is always asking about you. Dad also, even if a bit awkwardly. But he does care, in his own way.”

You smiled hearing Jolyne speak of her father. It was still complicated for her to accept him but slowly, she started to open up a little. Jotaro sometimes messaged her, asking about her life, even if awkwardly. The man would usually send her picture of the ocean. He became a part of her life, for once.

Remembering your first encounter with the man himself, you couldn’t help but go back to the endless battles in the prison. Your eyes shifted to Jolyne’s arms and all the battle scars on her delicate skin. You traced her arm lightly, which was not left unaware by your girlfriend.

“Do they hurt?” you couldn’t help but to ask.

“Not really, maybe sometimes they feel itchy,” Jojo explain, eyeing her arm a little, without further interest.

“I am sorry I couldn’t-“

“Shush, don’t,” she quickly shut you down, hugging you closer so that you could look her in the eyes. “We both know there was nothing you or anyone could do as I faced multiple battles alone. We all did,” she explained, a slightly sad smile on her face “we are alive and that’s all that matters” Jojo concluded.

“Still…” you tried to say something else.

“It’s all in the past,” Jolyne kissed your cheek, “I am now here with you, in the present,” she continued, now unraveling her arms from around you.

“We are okay” she put her soft hands on your cheeks, tracing them a little as she kissed your nose “and I am happy with you,” she kissed your cheeks, smiling slightly as she saw a notion of a blush on your face. Jolyne itched closer, tilting her head a little.

“Me too” you whispered before she brought you into a kiss.

[firewoodfigs]

(long post, but I’m gonna try and make journalling a thing in 2021 😆)

The first day of the new year was nice. :) I woke up to the sounds of rain crashing against my windowsills - a strangely chilly morning in this tropical country where it’s summer all year round. For a moment it felt like I was back in Canada again, all cloudy grey skies and whimsical rain - the perfect weather for introspection. 

I started my day with a pot of hot green tea, then settled down by my reading lamp to finish a book that I’ve been putting off for far too long - Steinbeck’s East of Eden. I only had about forty pages left, but somehow couldn’t bring myself to finish it. I hate when books end because it feels like that little world I’ve created and compartmentalised in my head has likewise ceased, but the good thing about books is that you can always re-read them and immerse yourself in the same fantasy. (Maybe even a different one, if the same words lend themselves to a different interpretation!) But it truly was an absolute masterpiece: such a stunning, intricate exploration of humanity that tugged at my heartstrings and led me into still waters of reflection. I know that I will definitely carry this tale in my heart for a long, long time to come. 

Afterwards, I had some instant ramen while watching The Queen’s Gambit. I’m not a big fan of watching shows usually because I often feel like they move too slowly or tend to miss details from the book, but this one is pretty exceptional. Like, the acting and the artistic direction are incredible - the constant juxtaposition between Beth’s traumatic past and her glorified present, and the exploration of the fallibility of genius were executed so brilliantly. Another thing that really stood out to me were the scenes where she’d hole herself in the toilet and rebuke herself aloud for weaknesses in her play and/or being weak, in general. I cannot begin to explain how many times I’ve done that to myself in law school for even the most trivial of infractions, the most minor of errors - Lord knows I’m my harshest critic. 

I promised to try, however, to be a little bit kinder to myself in 2021. My perfectionism tends to be a bar to goodness and growth because sometimes I get so afraid that my subconscious keeps demanding that my first draft has to be perfect. But it really doesn’t. That’s what editing is for. And writing, like any other talents and passions, requires nurturing and constant practice. I saw a quote yesterday about how we cannot just sit around and magically expect to be Faulkners overnight, and that is so true. I definitely need to find a sweet spot where I’m not berating myself to the point of giving up, but still demand growth so that I can keep bettering myself. 

In the evening I headed out to a friend’s for tacos, which were an absolute delight in itself. And then my bf and I got to walk his dog, who I am convinced is the most precious thing in the entire universe - maybe even more so than my bf himself (I kid... or maybe not) - and who is just such a gentle-natured darling. It began to drizzle, so she led us home and we spent the rest of the night playing Sherlock and Among Us with the rest. :) It was a very peaceful evening. For a moment I’d forgotten all about the fact that I start work next Monday and was simply content to bask in the Christmas lights, the heavy downpour and the anomalous chill that came along with it. Just... living in the present, enjoying the moment. 

Now that’s definitely something else on my to-do list for 2020 as well. So often the beauty of the present tends to be marred by my worries and anxieties of the future, but I always remind myself of this quote from Scripture: “Which one of you, by worrying, can add another day to his life?” And when I look back at my life and all the times I’ve worried and fretted and cried, feeling like there was no way for us to extricate ourselves from this rut, this perennial cycle of debt and other things that have plagued me from birth, I am also reminded of God’s grace and providence that has brought me through so, so much. It would’ve been impossible to have done all of this by myself; I frankly might not have had the will to continue living if not for those things. 

Talking about my lived experiences also ties in to the last part of my day - where I thought about how exclusive and inaccessible the poetry scene here feels. You would think otherwise, in a country of no more than 5-6 million folks, but no. I was ranting about this a little to my boyfriend: how it feels like a lot of the spaces within are reserved for the elites of society with silver spoons in their mouths and golden plates on their tables offering them anything they wanted while I was struggling to put food on the table at fourteen. Sometimes I also lament the fact that I didn’t have my parents to tell me bedtime stories, to encourage me to read and cultivate my vocabulary. Perhaps it’s jealousy, or inferiority, or a mix of both. 

But my boyfriend, ever wise and supportive, offered me a different perspective. He made a fair point about how I still fell in love with books and writing regardless, and how literature is oftentimes only a harbour that the privileged visit because the marginalised, the poor are too busy working for basic necessities to even think about such things. To the ordinary blue-collar layperson, poetry is just frankly a frivolous sentiment that won’t turn itself into gold. I agree with this wholeheartedly. It’s one of the reasons why I always felt like I didn’t have time to write, and one of the reasons why my first job was at a library (so I could read as much as I wanted! For free!). Then he said, “But see, no one wants to read about the rich waxing poetic about how lovely and grand their sunny little island is. But people will want to read about your perspective - your poems of the brokenhearted clinging on desperately to their inner child, your poems about the poor working to make ends’ meet, your poems about your tangible struggles - all of those will resonate with the masses, for sure.” And I was like, well, that’s fair. But I certainly don’t express myself as eloquently as these people do. Next to them I’m like an uncultured swine who can’t even tell the difference between all the different forks splayed on the table. 

His response was that people need to understand these things before appreciating them, and sometimes simplicity works best - a lesson that’s been drilled into us from the very inception of law school. And I was like, okay, fair, but deep down my heart was exploding with the sheer warmth of having someone so incredibly supportive of everything I do, even if it’s worthless in society’s eyes. I remember one night when I was telling him about how, as a twelve-year-old, I had a dream to one day study Literature at Yale. I would hole myself up in the library after school, feverishly flipping through books to expand my imaginations and horizons, my mental dictionary of words, dreaming about the day where I could escape all of this and dwell in nothing but imaginative worlds one day. Where reality failed me, I knew that I could always count on my imagination to transport me to somewhere safe and special, filled with joy and sorrow and tragedy and hope. 

I ended up studying law. Not a bad thing, because as stressful as it was I really did enjoy the things I’ve learnt - international and constitutional law, especially - and it has certainly given me new, mature perspectives on so many things; taught me to argue with reason and objectivity instead of just emotion and passion and has led me to meet so many wonderful (also trashy, but I’m out of this hellhole) people. I just don’t like the fact that 80-hour work weeks are the norm and that there’s always so much to... read. If you gave me a piece of fiction I could happily indulge in it for hours, but sometimes judgments can be so ridiculously mundane to read, especially if they’re just itemising every single case on illegality from the 19th century. Lord knows I need at least two cups of coffee for that. Black, to be specific. 

Anyway, I digress (as I always do lmao). My bf ended up researching all night until he stumbled across this Literature programme at Harvard - which frankly sounds amazing, but also unattainable. Which was what I said. And he was like, “Do I think it’s impossible? No. I think you have a very compelling life story, and you’re full of amazing stories within you to tell. And if you want to do it, I will support you wholeheartedly.” 

Again, as is usually the case, I had nothing left to offer apart from muted sobs under my blanket. It still sounds absurd to me - unthinkable, even - but I am just so, so grateful to have someone like him support me through everything. Literally everything. This is the man who has spent hours tutoring me in the subjects that I was hopeless in in first year, because I was too busy tutoring random folks in economics and geography and catching up on sleep (in class, no less), who has patiently helped me prepare for every single mooting competition and watched every single one of them, who has seen me cry and admonish myself for being a failure (only to spend hours trying to convince me otherwise), who has celebrated every single one of my victories and losses - you deserve a treat, anyway! Let’s go eat something nice and put it behind us, for now! This is the same man who has so much passion for what he does, who is so darn good at it without even realising that he is (I wept when he won a mooting competition this year because I was so proud of and happy for him), and who inspires confidence and compassion in me every day. 

I am grateful to share all our triumphs and tribulations together, and I look forward to starting a new chapter in life with you. :)