#our campaign starts soon and i’m so excited to play as her

[daysre]

all of the design work i’ve done for my new dnd character, Tealle. With her “final” design being the first photo

[catherinnn]

I thought of this at work today and I couldn't stop laughing: Imagine Dustin having an older sister who's back from college. So when they need a sub for Hellfire, he asks her because she's the one that taught him how to play in the first place. As soon as she walks in Eddie's brain short-circuits because "Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl?!?!? I would've at least brushed my hair!"

Que Dustin not sure whether he should be disgusted because his sister keeps flirting with his DM all night or excited because there is now a very strong possibility Eddie could become his brother-in-law now.

Roll for Initiative eddie munson x henderson!reader warnings: nothing much really, just fluff overall. eddie self-doubts for just a second, no use of y/n, cursing. a/n: thank you so much for requesting! I really hope you like it. reblogs and comments are very very appreciated. 2.2k words masterlist

“So,” Mike starts talking, Dustin takes notice of his sarcastic tone. “Who the fuck do we know that secretly plays D&D and would want to sub for Lucas”

“Um, well…” but before Dustin can get a word out Mike interrupts him.

“I mean, we’re fucked! Eddie’s gonna hate us and kick us out of Hellfire!”

“Dude-“

“No Dustin, I’m serious! I’m gonna kill Lucas and all his stupid new friends”

“Mike! Do you remember what I told you earlier? About my sister?”

“Uh… no?” he confesses.

“Honestly! Do you ever listen to me?!” Dustin claims angrily. “What I told you is that she’s coming back home. And she used to play, dude!”

“Are you serious?” Mike exclaims, unable to believe their luck. He asks “When does she get here?”

--

Dustin's heart pounds with anticipation as he waits at the doorstep. It had been months since he last saw you, and he couldn't wait to catch up.

And as your mom’s car pulls into the driveway, Dustin cannot contain his excitement. He rushes to greet you, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You step out of the car, a weary smile on your face as you spot your little brother.

"Dustin!" you exclaim, opening your arms for a hug. "You've gotten even taller since I last saw you."

“You think so?” he asks with hope.

“Oh right? He’s turning into a whole handsome tall man already!” your mom butted into the conversation and you both cringe at her choice of words.

“Ugh, I missed you!” you hug him again and he laughs.

Once you’re inside the house, Dustin wastes no time in bombarding you with stories of his D&D campaigns. He told you about the epic battles and the incredible DM the club has. You make a mental note to tease Steve as soon as you see him since he’s no longer Dustin’s coolest older friend.

“That club sounds so fun!”

"Do you think... would you want to join our club as a sub?" he asks eagerly. "We're short one person since Lucas joined the dark side”

You frown in confusion and he explains. “He’s in the football team”

“Really?” you ask surprised.

“Yeah…” he sounds disappointed. “Anyway, would you help us? Please”

“You’re sure they won’t mind?”

“They would be so thankful if you help us beat Eddie’s ass”

“Okay, sure then” you agree laughing.

--

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” Dustin shouts from the living room waiting impatiently for you.

“I’ve been ready for like ten minutes, you’re the one who’s taking so long” you answer calmly, not knowing what all the fuss is about.

Meanwhile in the drama room in Hawking’s High…

“Alright gentlemen, are we ready to start?” Eddie says as he walks in.

“Umm no, Dustin’s not here yet” Mike stops him.

“Well, where is he?”

“He’s probably arriving any time now”

“Wheeler, we don’t have all day-“ Eddie starts complaining but the door opening abruptly interrupts him. An agitated Dustin walks in and starts apologizing, but Eddie’s not listening to him.

The club leader still frozen mid-sentence, his brain seemingly short-circuiting as he laid eyes on you, standing by the door. He stumbled over his words, his thoughts are silent but screaming at the same time. Suddenly, the room seemed smaller, the air thicker, as if a spell had been cast upon him.

However, you’re still oblivious to the effect you had over him.

“Soo, who’s this?” Gareth finally asks after waiting for Eddie to ask that question, but he was not even moving.

“Oh, this is my sister” Dustin starts introducing you. Eddie’s trance is broken when he hears your name, the prettiest name he’s ever heard. “She’ll sub for Lucas”

“She will?” Eddie asks with a hint of hope in his voice. All of the sudden hoping Lucas won’t be able to join Hellfire ever again.

The rest of the boys are waiting expectantly for Eddie to ask you all types of question until he finds an unsatisfying enough answer and he’ll decide you can’t sub. But he never does. So Gareth starts asking if you even know how to play D&D.

“Sure she does, she was the one who taught me how to play in the first place” your brother steps in.

You tell the boys your level in the game and for some reason they all seem surprised. They start murmuring among each other. But you notice how the boy on the big throne leans over to your brother to whisper something. You play dumb and walk closer to them.

"Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl? I would've at least brushed my hair!" He whispers-shouts and a smile starts forming on your face.

You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t called your attention. His big puppy eyes, all the rings on his hand. You don’t know why he says that about his hair, you thought it looked really good like that.

At any rate, you take a seat next to your brother, which just so happens to also be next to Eddie. Happy coincidence. And you start playing, Eddie sets the scene. He makes you imagine every single little detail so you feel like you’re actually there. He makes different voices for each character which makes you giggle. He even stands up, or leans over on the table, he talks to every single one of you, not forgetting about anyone. It’s mesmerizing to see him like this.

“I love how passionate you get” you comment and it makes him smile so hard.

He noticed before, every time he would change the tone in his voice to imitate a character, you’d laugh, and now he keeps changing voices just to hear it again.

“Give me the gold! He says. Or I’ll set my hungry wolves free, right this second!” Eddie acts and without failing he’s able to hear your snorts. It distracts him in the best way possible. “You have an adorable laugh” he tells you with a smirk.

This obviously makes you giggle once more, this time with a pink blush decorating your cheeks. “Thanks, it’s just- you’re cute making all the voices”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to blush and smile once more.

Dustin notices this exchange —all of the other boys did— but he can’t decipher how he feels about it. On the one hand, he feels a little jealous and uncomfortable that you two keep flirting. But on the other hand, it would be really cool to have Eddie as his brother in law.

However, the game continues and so does the places Eddie takes you all to in your minds. So much so that at one point you start getting dizzy.

“Wait, where are we again?” you ask.

“In the mountains near the lake” Gareth answers.

“Are we close to the palace?”

“No no, the palace is behind the woods” Mike explains now. They have more of an advantage than you do, they've been playing this campaign for weeks now.

“Wh- Do you have a map?” You finally ask Eddie and he nods passing it to you.

“Here’s the palace” he comes closer and signals on the map, “and here is where you are”

“Oh, okay”

“You know, if you’re still lost I can stick around to guide you” he whispers giving the closeness.

“Well, you’re the bad guy here,” you argue imagining you’re still inside the game. “How do I know you won’t try to kill me?”

“Me?” he gasps acting offended. “I would never!”

“You already killed Jeff!” you accuse him.

“Yeah, but he’s not half as pretty as you are. I’d miss you too much” he makes sure he’s whispering very close to you now, just because if Jeff heard him he’d start acting offended. Just because of that… no other reason.

“Can we keep playing now? My mom will be here in like ten minutes to pick me up” Mike complains.

Those ten minutes fly by. Before you even realize it, Mike’s mom is honking in her car to hurry him up. And so you finish for the day, starting to gather all your things.

“You know, you owe me a pencil” you tell Eddie.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” he asks playfully.

“I only borrowed it to you! I did not gift it!”

“So you’re calling me a thief? First a killer and now a thief? Glad to know you think so badly of little old me”

“I didn't just called you that!” you say in you defence and he makes confused face, signalling you to continue talking. “I also said you’re cute. You’re a really cute thief and killer”

He starts laughing. “Are you always this charming, or is it just when I'm around?"

“I could ask you the same thing”

“Oh only with you, sweetheart” he promises.

“Me too” you admit a little shyly.

“Yeah?-” he tries to keep flirting but Dustin cuts him off.

“Are you ready? Let’s go”

“Wow, since when are you so eager to leave hellfire?” Eddie notices.

“No reason” he lies, he’s still not sure if all this flirting between you two would be something good or not.

“I think he’s a little jealous his sister is taking all of Eddie’s attention” Gareth teases him.

“No, I’m not!”

“Aw Dusty bun!” Eddie joins in the teasing.

“I’m not jealous! Ask her out for all I care!” he says but regrets it as soon as it left his mouth.

“Really?” Eddie checks in but Dustin is a very proud person, he’s not one to bend. So he nods encouraging his friend.

Good thing you know him like the palm of your hand.

“Let’s go dingus, mom’s probably waiting for us”

Eddie feels this as punch right on his chest. Did he read too much into this? Were you not actually interested? Was it just some playful flirting?

As you walk out the school and into the parking lot. You open the car so your brother can get in but tell him to wait a second, and you walk over to Eddie who was about to get in his van.

“Wait! Thief!” you call him and he turns around. “I think you should, you know… ask me out”

He feels the happiness creeping back into his body. “Yeah? I should?” his playful tone back in his voice. “Would you want to go out with a thief and a murderer?”

“If he’s as cute as you are, then I’d think about it” you make him laugh again.

“How about tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at eight” he proposes.

“I’ll be ready”

“Good”

“Yeah, good” you walk closer to him. “See you tomorrow then” and before leaving, you give him a kiss on his cheek. Hiding your need to kiss him more after seeing his flushed face. You’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow.

Dustin sees you getting in the car with the biggest smile on your face. “Did you ask him out?”

“Um, yeah… listen-“

“It’s fine, really”

“No, listen. I know that maybe it’s a little uncomfortable to think of one of your best friends going out with me. But I promise I would never do anything to hurt him and make it weird between you two-“

“I know that, and I know he wouldn’t do that either” he interrupts you. “I’m just- I’m worried that I won’t be a priority to you or to him anymore”

“Dustin, are you kidding? You could not be more wrong about that!” you argue. “Imagine this date goes well, we’ll start hanging out at home and watch movies with you, we could go out to eat all together, go to the cinema, anything! You name it!”

And the more he thinks about it that way, the more he loves that idea.

So the next day, he helps you choose your outfit, he tells you which hairstyle will look better and then hurries you up when it’s 7:50 pm and you’re still putting mascara on.

“You look fine already! Amazing even! Grab your jacket cause he’ll be here any minute now!” and as soon as he says that, he recognizes that car outside with the loud metal music, seconds later he hears the door knocking.

“I’ll get it, mom!” he yells so his mother won’t embarrass you.

“No, you won’t. I will” you stop him before he can open the door. “Go back to your comic-book. I’ll be back in a few hours”

And he waits until you get back. 

When you finally do, he’s on the couch watching TV but mutes it as soon as he hears you.

“Hey” he notices the big smile on your face is on again. He also notices your lips are a little puffy and he cringes at that thought.  

“You can go to sleep happily now, the date went amazing” you explain. “God, I think I’m love with him!” you comment as you go up to your room.

“Already?” he judges a little.

But as you promised, the three of you hang out together most of the time. And as long as he looks away when you two kiss or ignores the fact that Eddie’s spending the night in your room after you all catch a movie and order some pizza. He’s really happy that you two found each other.

[pensat-i-fet]

Want to join me? (Rúben Dias x Reader)

Masterlist

Wattpad

“Morning”

“Morning weirdo, I made you a big breakfast”, says my roommate Jenny when I reach the kitchen island of our apartment.

“Thanks, I need to leave in…”, I look down at my watch, “an hour and a half”.

“But you couldn’t skip your morning run”, she says, rolling her eyes.

“You know it helps me with the stress”.

“Yeah yeah, whatever”.

I can't help but smile when she puts the plate on the table and I see she made frittata for today’s breakfast. My favourite post-workout meal.

“So, tell me about today”, she says, sitting down to drink a cup of tea and keep me company while I eat.

“I’m taking the train to Manchester and doing a shoot there. Nothing too exciting, really”.

“Is it a campaign or an editorial?”

“Editorial. For Men’s Health Portugal. Really random for them to hire me but someone cancelled very last minute and I guess I was the only good option. The entire crew is Portuguese. It should be fun. I won’t understand a word they say all day”.

“And who’s the model? He is probably really hot. I’m so jealous”.

I laugh at her comment. “Some footballer. I don’t know”.

“I truly hate you. You know I love football and you just say that it’s some footballer. I hate you”.

“Jen, I barely know who plays for England and you want me to care about who plays for Portugal?”, I say with a shrug.

“There are six Portuguese players in Manchester but only one good option for that shoot”, she says, ignoring my comment.

“Well, I’ll let you know when I get there”, I say, taking my empty plate to the dishwasher so I can head to the shower. “Breakfast was perfect, thank you”.

“Ew, go shower now, stinky”, she says, getting away from my sweaty hug and I laugh all the way to my room.

**

Four hours later, I’m finally on set, getting all the clothes ready. Not that this footballer will be wearing much. The brief I got sent said that only trousers and shoes will be needed. I guess the ladies and the gents who like him will go crazy when they see him showing off his muscles in all the photos.

I shake my head at the thought. I never got what’s so fascinating about footballers.

“He’s ready”, says one of the women working at today’s shoot.

“Great. Thanks”.

When I get to the dressing area, I see there is a guy with his back to me and looking down at his phone.

“Hello?”

At the sound of my voice, he turns and looks at me for a couple of seconds before smiling. “Hi, you’re the stylist, right? I’m Rúben, nice to meet you”.

“Nice to meet you too”, I tell him, shaking his hand. His really strong hand.

“Ok, I need you to undress”, I say, quickly realising I’m too used to working with female models. When I look up at Rúben I can see him smirking at me. “You know what I mean”.

“Do I?”, he says, but I choose to ignore it.

“Someone will be here soon to do your body make-up. But I need to check if we got the right size for your clothes”.

“Can’t you do it? The body make-up?”, he adds the last part when I look up at him, confused.

“I’m not a make-up artist”.

“That’s a shame”, he whispers.

“What was that?”, I ask, pretending to not have heard it.

“Nothing”.

I'm thankfully saved by the real make-up artist, who starts to fuss around him the moment he takes his shirt off. I don't understand what she's saying to him but I can tell how uncomfortable he feels by the way he's smiling. I have to bite my lip to hide my smile at the scene in front of me.

"I was told your shoe size is 10.5. Is that right?"

"Yes", he answers and I start to put each pair of shoes next to the trousers he'll wear them with.

"Big feet for a big boy, huh?", tells him the make-up artist, laughing and staring at the arm she's holding to apply the make-up.

This time I can't help it and a small chuckle escapes my lips. Rúben gives me a "it's not so funny" look, which only makes my smile bigger.

"Ok, I'm done, darling. Your turn", she tells me with a wink.

"Here, put this on", I say to Rúben, passing him some green joggers while I turn to get the matching shoes.

Thinking that he is done getting changed, I turn again to find him bending down to put the joggers on. I know I shouldn't, I know it's unprofessional, but I can't help but stare.

How is he even real?

A beep on my phone wakes me up from the beautiful dream that is Rúben.

Jenny: how is it going? Who are you doing the shoot with?

Me: guess.

Jenny: Rúben Dias.

Me: how did you know?

Jenny: he's the fittest out of the six Portuguese in Manchester 🤷

Me: he's alright, I guess.

Jenny: take a photo of him for me. Please!

Me: Jennifer, I can't do that. They could fire me if they find out.

Jenny: then don't let them catch you.

"You ok?", asks Rúben.

"Yes. Umm…would you mind if I take a photo of you? For my…eh…the behind the scenes".

"Take as many as you want".

And so I take the photo. When I go to check it I can see his cheeky smirk. Is it permanently on his face?

Jenny: I'm dead. It was nice meeting you 🥵

Me: you're so silly. I gotta keep on working. Talk to you later.

I put my phone away and walk towards Rúben to fix his outfit.

"Ok, let me pull this down a bit", I tell him, pulling his joggers down slightly, the way the photographer wants them. "And…the jacket", I say, getting a matching jacket and tying it around his hips. Trying to stop the slight shake of my hands.

I can feel my face getting hot and can only imagine how red it looks. Ridiculous. It's not the first time I dress a male model for a shoot, what's wrong with me?

"Ready. You can go with the photographer".

Seeing Rúben pose for the camera is an experience. He's so confident. Many would call him arrogant but I just think he knows how hot he is and loves it. There is nothing wrong with that.

When I look at the monitor, I can tell the bottom of the trousers I purposefully put higher to better show off the shoes look a bit weird, so I walk to where he is to put them down quickly.

I hear the photographer talking to Rúben again and I wouldn't have thought about it twice had he not changed to English so I could understand him.

"Sorry, she distracted me", he says, making me turn to see him smirking at me again. And making my already red face even redder.

This is going to be a long shoot.

**

Three outfits into the shoot, the photographer seems annoyed at something.

"What's wrong with him?", I ask Rúben, pointing at the photographer while I help him put on the next outfit.

He moves so he is closer to the people talking before answering me. "He thinks something is missing. That I need someone else to pose with me for some of the photos".

I roll my eyes at that. Photographers and their last minute changes of mind.

"Should have decided that first. Who's going to find a model now?"

"What about you?", asks Rúben, making me freeze and frown.

"What about me?"

"You could pose with me".

"I'm not a model. I know my otherworldly beauty might have fooled you but I'm just a stylist", I tell him, rolling my eyes.

"You are fit".

"Excuse me?", I say, eyes wide open.

"I mean as in being in good shape. Do you exercise often?", he answers, looking at my arms and shoulders that are now exposed since I took off my jumper and I'm only wearing a tank top.

"Yes, I love doing sport".

"Perfect", he says, smiling. "And you are also fit in the other sense of the word, by the way".

And with that he leaves me to talk to the photographer. What did just happen?

I don't really know what to do with myself while I see them talking. How I wish I could understand them right now.

"Rúben tells me you could take a couple of photos with him", tells me the photographer. "It's just what we needed. They are bringing some women's clothes you can wear. And you can style yourself", he laughs.

"I'm not a model", I say, not knowing what else to say.

"Don't worry, I'll guide you. And you've seen many models working. Just copy them".

Right, as if it was easy.

"I can't do this, Rúben", I tell him when the photographer is gone.

"You can. It'll be fine".

"Oh, there you are", says the make-up artist who is back but not for Rúben, she's here for me. "You don't need much done. Just a bit of foundation and mascara and done. Right, Rúben?"

"Yes, she doesn't need your help at all".

That smirk again. It'll be the end of me today.

"Here are the clothes", tells me one of the assistants who is carrying a rail full of women's sport clothes.

I pick a few outfits that will go well with what Rúben has to wear and look at him.

"Can you leave?"

"Why?"

"I have to get changed", I tell him, showing the clothes I have in my hands.

"I changed in front of you".

"Not the same thing and you know it. Go now so this can be over soon".

He obliges, laughing while he walks back to the shooting area.

I look at myself in the mirror and leave to join Rúben before I chicken out.

I see him standing and waiting until he turns to me and smiles again.

"Want to join me?", he says, arm extended towards me.

"I don't have another choice, do I?", I say, ignoring his chuckle.

"Ok", says the photographer, "I need you a bit closer…there. Your hands on your hips and your body turned to Rúben", he says, moving my body so I am posing just how he wants me to. "And you are almost perfect, Rúben, but how about we try with your hand on her back…right there. Yes. Not lower, this isn't that kind of shoot", he says, walking away and laughing.

He immediately grabs his camera and starts shooting again.

"Yes, you are exactly what we needed. Come to the monitor so we can see the photos".

We do as told and I position myself next to the photographer, mostly out of habit. I can feel Rúben by my side and then his arm moves so he can put it on the table that the monitor is on. After he does the same with his other arm, he cages me in between the table and him. I try not to blush again, but when he leans in and his arm touches my bare back, I can't help but feel goosebumps all over my body. When I look at him to see if he's noticed, he's already looking at me. I hate him.

"One more photo and we're done", claps the photographer and we go get changed.

For this final outfit Rúben is just wearing some plain black joggers that of course look perfect on him. I decide to wear a nice turquoise set to add a pop of colour to the photo.

"Wow", he says when I walk back to where he is.

"What is it?"

"That outfit on you is…wow".

"It's just some shorts and a sports bra. I wear this to the gym all the time", I shrug.

"When do you say is our gym date, then?"

Him and that smirk.

"You can lift her with just one arm, right?"

"He what?", I ask, looking at the photographer wondering if he's gone mad.

"For the photo. I want to try something a bit different. He can lift you by the waist and you put his arm on his shoulder", he mutters, thinking. "Look".

And so he helps us get in the pose he wants. Once we are ready, I can tell Rúben is holding me tightly so I don't fall. But he also isn't making much of an effort. That's how strong he is.

"That was perfect! Perfect! It's a wrap everybody!"

"You can put me down now", I tell Rúben. And so he does. Slowly. Which is nice because it means he's being careful, but it's also torture because of the way our bodies touch while he's putting me down. My blush is back, but I'm not the only one being obvious about how I feel right now.

"I'll go get changed. I need to get to the train station soon", I say, wanting to put some distance between us so I can think rationally again.

"Wait", says Rúben, following me. "What about that date?"

"What date?"

"Our gym date", he says, looking me up and down, his brown eyes looking darker than normal.

"I thought you were joking", I laughed.

"I wasn't. Or we could make it a dinner date if you want to".

"I…".

"Here", he says, writing something down on a piece of paper. "My number. Let me know when you are free for our date", he says with a wink before leaving.

I guess I'll have to find a free day on my busy schedule to come back to Manchester.

[dauntlessdiva]

i wish my stranger things Huge hyperfix was still around :( i miss having brainrot over steddie and such yk? but it’s still lovely to see it on my dash depsite not participating as much anymore. and the fic idea is so good??? i think i’ll go and add some of your fics on ao3 to my read later list! :]

i have tried to watch d20 and specifically fantasy high… i think i got to, like, episode 2 or 3 of season 1. my brain can’t comprehend all of the talking and trying to keep up with story. i love dnd so much and i’d love to delve into d20 more and also critical roll. feel free to talk to me about it anytime! who’s your favorite fantasy high characters??

i also have never watched bridgerton! i’ve seen posts on here about it but i really have no clue what it’s about! i’m guessing it’s british but i’m not even sure about that lol. it’s lovely to watch something with your family like that, it’s really sweet

OH SAME!! i love minecraft and i love baking and i love watching crochet stuff but i don’t participate in the hobby. tell me some of your favorite things about minecraft, your favorite things to bake, your favorite crochet project possibly?

i love music so much AHHH!!! who’s your top 3 artists? or what are some of your favorite songs right now? personally, there’s a new album coming out soon that i’m really excited for! and new music actually released tonight for me as well, just has been a great music month for me ^w^

(hope this is okay, i mean, to send multiple asks as conversation!)

I love this, it's like getting letters but online.

(This is what email wishes it could be)

I also have a hard time concentrating on the words with d20, but also woth podcasts and audiobooks too, so I typically find another task to do to keep my ears engaged. Like I'll listen to Dimension 20 while I bake! Or I'll draw in my sketchbook while listening to an audiobook.

In terms of my favourite character from Fantasy High, it's a tie between Fig and Gorgug. My angry little sweethearts.

Bridgerton IS British! And if you like regency era romance vibes but don't care so much about the historical accuracy, then you'd probably like it. There's a lot of sex scenes though so do with that what you will.

My favourite Bridgerton character is Anthony Bridgerton. He's the eldest and he's so stubborn that I wanna box his ears sometimes, but he is also a sweetheart.

My dad likes to hog the tv for the majority of the week, and we have family movie nights all together on Saturday nights. But on Friday nights, my dad invites his buddies/our neighbours over to hang out in the garage for some beers and good conversation, and me, my mom, and my sister will all go watch something on Netflix together.

We've been doing it since Stranger Things season 4 part 2 came out, and we will just sit and binge entire shows a few episodes at a time.

I may be aging myself with this one, (and that feels so odd to say as someone who just turned 25 last month) but my favourite minceracft youtuber has got to be Vintagebeef. I started watching him when he was in his second season playing on the Mindcrack server (it was their 3rd season I believe), back when I was 12.

I love watching him on the Hermitcraft server these days, and it's nice to see him interacting and having fun with minecraft legends of old and new. I also love any Team Canada (Vintagebeef, Ethoslab, and PauseUnpause) videos. It's as fun as it is chaotic, and it's always very chaotic.

I found a recipe online to turn cake mix into cookies by modifying the wet ingredients, and I have been having so much fun getting creative with those on my days off work since I discovered it sometime last fall.

(My favourite ones so far would have to be the marbled cookies. They are to die for)

My favourite crochet projects, to date, are the baby blanket I made for my best friend's little boy, and the dice bags I recently made for my friend and I (she invited me to join my first ever dnd campaign with her)

My top three music artists right now would be Noah Kahan, Chappell Roan, and Hozier (with a shout out to Benson Boone)

But my all time faves? Marianas Trench, Fall Out Boy, and AC/DC

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

“Elliot Page doesn’t remember exactly how long he had been asking.

But he does remember the acute feeling of triumph when, around age 9, he was finally allowed to cut his hair short. “I felt like a boy,” Page says. “I wanted to be a boy. I would ask my mom if I could be someday.” Growing up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Page visualized himself as a boy in imaginary games, freed from the discomfort of how other people saw him: as a girl. After the haircut, strangers finally started perceiving him the way he saw himself, and it felt both right and exciting.

The joy was short-lived. Months later, Page got his first break, landing a part as a daughter in a Canadian mining family in the TV movie Pit Pony. He wore a wig for the film, and when Pit Pony became a TV show, he grew his hair out again. “I became a professional actor at the age of 10,” Page says. And pursuing that passion came with a difficult compromise. “Of course I had to look a certain way.”

We are speaking in late February. It is the first interview Page, 34, has given since disclosing in December that he is transgender, in a heartfelt letter posted to Instagram, and he is crying before I have even uttered a question. “Sorry, I’m going to be emotional, but that’s cool, right?” he says, smiling through his tears.

It’s hard for him to talk about the days that led up to that disclosure. When I ask how he was feeling, he looks away, his neck exposed by a new short haircut. After a pause, he presses his hand to his heart and closes his eyes. “This feeling of true excitement and deep gratitude to have made it to this point in my life,” he says, “mixed with a lot of fear and anxiety.”

It’s not hard to understand why a trans person would be dealing with conflicting feelings in this moment. Increased social acceptance has led to more young people describing themselves as trans—1.8% of Gen Z compared with 0.2% of boomers, according to a recent Gallup poll—yet this has fueled conservatives who are stoking fears about a “transgender craze.” President Joe Biden has restored the right of transgender military members to serve openly, and in Hollywood, trans people have never had more meaningful time onscreen. Meanwhile, J.K. Rowling is leveraging her cultural capital to oppose transgender equality in the name of feminism, and lawmakers are arguing in the halls of Congress over the validity of gender identities. “Sex has become a political football in the culture wars,” says Chase Strangio, deputy director for transgender justice at the ACLU.

(Full article with photos continued under the “read more”)

And so Page—who charmed America as a precocious pregnant teenager in Juno, constructed dreamscapes in Inception and now stars in Netflix’s hit superhero show The Umbrella Academy, the third season of which he’s filming in Toronto—expected that his news would be met with both applause and vitriol. “What I was anticipating was a lot of support and love and a massive amount of hatred and transphobia,” says Page. “That’s essentially what happened.” What he did not anticipate was just how big this story would be. Page’s announcement, which made him one of the most famous out trans people in the world, started trending on Twitter in more than 20 countries. He gained more than 400,000 new followers on Instagram on that day alone. Thousands of articles were published. Likes and shares reached the millions. Right-wing podcasters readied their rhetoric about “women in men’s locker rooms.” Casting directors reached out to Page’s manager saying it would be an honor to cast Page in their next big movie.

So, it was a lot. Over the course of two conversations, Page will say that understanding himself in all the specifics remains a work in progress. Fathoming one’s gender, an identity innate and performed, personal and social, fixed and evolving, is complicated enough without being under a spotlight that never seems to turn off. But having arrived at a critical juncture, Page feels a deep sense of responsibility to share his truth. “Extremely influential people are spreading these myths and damaging rhetoric—every day you’re seeing our existence debated,” Page says. “Transgender people are so very real.”

That role in Pit Pony led to other productions and eventually, when Page was 16, to a film called Mouth to Mouth. Playing a young anarchist, Page had a chance to cut his hair again. This time, he shaved it off completely. The kids at his high school teased him, but in photos he has posted from that time on social media he looks at ease. Page’s head was still shaved when he mailed in an audition tape for the 2005 thriller Hard Candy. The people in charge of casting asked him to audition again in a wig. Soon, the hair was back.

Page’s tour de force performance in Hard Candy led, two years later, to Juno, a low-budget indie film that brought Page Oscar, BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations and sudden megafame. The actor, then 21, struggled with the stresses of that ascension. The endless primping, red carpets and magazine spreads were all agonizing reminders of the disconnect between how the world saw Page and who he knew himself to be. “I just never recognized myself,” Page says. “For a long time I could not even look at a photo of myself.” It was difficult to watch the movies too, especially ones in which he played more feminine roles.

Page loved making movies, but he also felt alienated by Hollywood and its standards. Alia Shawkat, a close friend and co-star in 2009’s Whip It,describes all the attention from Juno as scarring. “He had a really hard time with the press and expectations,” Shawkat says. “‘Put this on! And look this way! And this is sexy!’”

By the time he appeared in blockbusters like X-Men: The Last Stand and Inception, Page was suffering from depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He didn’t know, he says, “how to explain to people that even though [I was] an actor, just putting on a T-shirt cut for a woman would make me so unwell.” Shawkat recalls Page’s struggles with clothes. “I’d be like, ‘Hey, look at all these nice outfits you’re getting,’ and he would say, ‘It’s not me. It feels like a costume,’” she says. Page tried to convince himself that he was fine, that someone who was fortunate enough to have made it shouldn’t have complaints. But he felt exhausted by the work required to “just exist,” and thought more than once about quitting acting.

In 2014, Page came out as gay, despite feeling for years that “being out was impossible” given his career. (Gender identity and sexual orientation are, of course, distinct, but one queer identity can coexist with another.) In an emotional speech at a Human Rights Campaign conference, Page talked about being part of an industry “that places crushing standards” on actors and viewers alike. “There are pervasive stereotypes about masculinity and femininity that define how we’re all supposed to act, dress and speak,” Page went on. “And they serve no one.”

The actor started wearing suits on the red carpet. He found love, marrying choreographer Emma Portner in 2018. He asserted more agency in his career, producing his own films with LGBTQ leads like Freeheld and My Days of Mercy. And he made a masculine wardrobe a condition of taking roles. Yet the daily discord was becoming unbearable. “The difference in how I felt before coming out as gay to after was massive,” says Page. “But did the discomfort in my body ever go away? No, no, no, no.”

In part, it was the isolation forced by the pandemic that brought to a head Page’s wrestling with gender. (Page and Portner separated last summer, and the two divorced in early 2021. “We’ve remained close friends,” Page says.) “I had a lot of time on my own to really focus on things that I think, in so many ways, unconsciously, I was avoiding,” he says. He was inspired by trailblazing trans icons like Janet Mock and Laverne Cox, who found success in Hollywood while living authentically. Trans writers helped him understand his feelings; Page saw himself reflected in P. Carl’s memoir Becoming a Man. Eventually “shame and discomfort” gave way to revelation. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” Page says, “and letting myself fully become who I am.”

This led to a series of decisions. One was asking the world to call him by a different name, Elliot, which he says he’s always liked. Page has a tattoo that says E.P. PHONE HOME, a reference to a movie about a young boy with that name. “I loved E.T. when I was a kid and always wanted to look like the boys in the movies, right?” he says. The other decision was to use different pronouns—for the record, both he/him and they/them are fine. (When I ask if he has a preference on pronouns for the purposes of this story, Page says, “He/him is great.”)

A day before we first speak, Page will talk to his mom about this interview and she will tell him, “I’m just so proud of my son.” He grows emotional relating this and tries to explain that his mom, the daughter of a minister, who was born in the 1950s, was always trying to do what she thought was best for her child, even if that meant encouraging young Page to act like a girl. “She wants me to be who I am and supports me fully,” Page says. “It is a testament to how people really change.”

Another decision was to get top surgery. Page volunteers this information early in our conversation; at the time he posted his disclosure on Instagram, he was recovering in Toronto. Like many trans people, Page emphasizes being trans isn’t all about surgery. For some people, it’s unnecessary. For others, it’s unaffordable. For the wider world, the media’s focus on it has sensationalized transgender bodies, inviting invasive and inappropriate questions. But Page describes surgery as something that, for him, has made it possible to finally recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, providing catharsis he’s been waiting for since the “total hell” of puberty. “It has completely transformed my life,” he says. So much of his energy was spent on being uncomfortable in his body, he says. Now he has that energy back.

For the transgender community at large, visibility does not automatically lead to acceptance. Around the globe, transgender people deal disproportionately with violence and discrimination. Anti-trans hate crimes are on the rise in the U.K. along with increasingly transphobic rhetoric in newspapers and tabloids. In the U.S., in addition to the perennial challenges trans people face with issues like poverty and homelessness, a flurry of bills in state legislatures would make it a crime to provide transition-related medical care to trans youth. And crass old jokes are still in circulation. When Biden lifted the ban on open service for transgender troops, Saturday Night Live’s Michael Che did a bit on Weekend Update about the policy being called “don’t ask, don’t tuck.”

Page says coming out as trans was “selfish” on one level: “It’s for me. I want to live and be who I am.” But he also felt a moral imperative to do so, given the times. Human identity is complicated and mysterious, but politics insists on fitting everything into boxes. In today’s culture wars, simplistic beliefs about gender—e.g., chromosomes = destiny—are so widespread and so deep-seated that many people who hold those beliefs don’t feel compelled to consider whether they might be incomplete or prejudiced. On Feb. 24, after a passionate debate on legislation that would ban discrimination against LGBTQ people, Representative Marie Newman, an Illinois Democrat, proudly displayed the pride flag in support of her daughter, who is trans. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Georgia Republican, responded by hanging a poster outside her office that read: There are TWO genders: MALE & FEMALE.

The next day Dr. Rachel Levine, who stands to become the first openly transgender federal official confirmed by the Senate, endured a tirade from Senator Rand Paul about “genital mutilation” during her confirmation hearing. My second conversation with Page happens shortly after this. He brings it up almost immediately, and seems both heartbroken and determined. He wants to emphasize that top surgery, for him, was “not only life-changing but lifesaving.” He implores people to educate themselves about trans lives, to learn how crucial medical care can be, to understand that lack of access to it is one of the many reasons that an estimated 41% of transgender people have attempted suicide, according to one survey.

Page has been in the political trenches for a while, having leaned into progressive activism after coming out as queer in 2014. For two seasons, he and best friend Ian Daniel filmed Gaycation, a Viceland series that explored LGBTQ culture around the world and, at one point, showed Page grilling Senator Ted Cruz at the Iowa State Fair about discrimination against queer people. In 2019, Page made a documentary called There’s Something in the Water, which explores environmental hardships experienced by communities of color in Nova Scotia, with $350,000 of his own money. That activism extends to his own industry: in 2017, he published a Facebook post that, among other things, accused director Brett Ratner of forcibly outing him as gay on the set of an X-Men movie. (A representative for Ratner did not respond to a request for comment.)

As a trans person who is white, wealthy and famous, Page has a unique kind of privilege, and with it an opportunity to advocate for those with less. According to the U.S. Trans Survey, a large-scale report from 2015, transgender people of color are more likely to experience unemployment, harassment by police and refusals of medical care. Nearly half of all Black respondents reported being denied equal treatment, verbally harassed and/or physically attacked in the past year. Trans people as a group fare much worse on such stats than the general population. “My privilege has allowed me to have resources to get through and to be where I am today,” Page says, “and of course I want to use that privilege and platform to help in the ways I can.”

Since his disclosure, Page has been mostly quiet on social media. One exception has been to tweet on behalf of the ACLU, which is in the midst of fighting anti-trans bills and laws around the country, including those that ban transgender girls and women from participating in sports. Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves says he will sign such a bill in the name of “protect[ing] young girls.” Page played competitive soccer and vividly recalls the agony of being told he would have to play on the girls’ team once he aged out of mixed-gender squads. After an appeal, Page was allowed to play with the boys for an additional year. Today, several bills list genitalia as a requirement for deciding who plays on which team. “I would have been in that position as a kid,” Page says. “It’s horrific.”

All this advocacy is unlikely to make life easier. “You can’t enter into certain spaces as a public trans person,” says the ACLU’s Strangio, “without being prepared to spend some percentage of your life being threatened and harassed.” Yet, while he seems overwhelmed at times, Page is also eager. Many of the political attacks on trans people—whether it is a mandate that bathroom use be determined by birth sex, a blanket ban on medical interventions for trans kids or the suggestion that trans men are simply wayward women beguiled by male privilege—carry the same subtext: that trans people are mistaken about who they are. “We know who we are,” Page says. “People cling to these firm ideas [about gender] because it makes people feel safe. But if we could just celebrate all the wonderful complexities of people, the world would be such a better place.”

Even if Page weren’t vocal, his public presence would communicate something powerful. That is in part because of what Paisley Currah, a professor of political science at Brooklyn College, calls “visibility gaps.” Historically, trans women have been more visible, in culture and in Hollywood, than trans men. There are many explanations: Our culture is obsessed with femininity. Men’s bodies are less policed and scrutinized. Patriarchal people tend to get more emotional about who is considered to be in the same category as their daughters. “And a lot of trans men don’t stand out as trans,” says Currah, who is a trans man himself. “I think we’ve taken up less of the public’s attention because masculinity is sort of the norm.”

During our interviews, Page will repeatedly refer to himself as a “transgender guy.” He also calls himself nonbinary and queer, but for him, transmasculinity is at the center of the conversation right now. “It’s a complicated journey,” he says, “and an ongoing process.”

While the visibility gap means that trans men have been spared some of the hate endured by trans women, it has also meant that people like Page have had fewer models. “There were no examples,” Page says of growing up in Halifax in the 1990s. There are many queer people who have felt “that how they feel deep inside isn’t a real thing because they never saw it reflected back to them,” says Tiq Milan, an activist, author and transgender man. Page offers a reflection: “They can see that and say, ‘You know what, that’s who I am too,’” Milan says. When there aren’t examples, he says, “people make monsters of us.”

For decades, that was something Hollywood did. As detailed in the 2020 Netflix documentary Disclosure, transgender people have been portrayed onscreen as villainous and deceitful, tragic subplots or the butt of jokes. In a sign of just how far the industry has come—spurred on by productions like Pose and trailblazers like Mock—Netflix offered to change the credits on The Umbrella Academy the same day that its star posted his statement on social media. Now when an episode ends, the first words viewers see are “Elliot Page.”

Today, there are many out trans and nonbinary actors, directors and producers. Storylines involving trans people are more common, more respectful. Sometimes that aspect of identity is even incidental, rather than the crux of a morality tale. And yet Hollywood can still seem a frightening place for LGBTQ people to come out. “It’s an industry that says, ‘Don’t do that,’” says director Silas Howard, who got his break on Amazon’s show Transparent, which made efforts to hire transgender crew members. “I wouldn’t have been hired if they didn’t have a trans initiative,” Howard says. “I’m always aware of that.”

So what will it mean for Page’s career? While Page has appeared in many projects, he also faced challenges landing female leads because he didn’t fit Hollywood’s narrow mold. Since Page’s Instagram post, his team is seeing more activity than they have in years. Many of the offers coming in—to direct, to produce, to act—are trans-related, but there are also some “dude roles.”

Downtime in quarantine helped Page accept his gender identity. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” he says.

Page was attracted to the role of Vanya in The Umbrella Academy because—in the first season, released in 2019—Vanya is crushed by self-loathing, believing herself to be the only ordinary sibling in an extraordinary family. The character can barely summon the courage to move through the world. “I related to how much Vanya was closed off,” Page says. Now on set filming the third season, co-workers have seen a change in the actor. “It seems like there’s a tremendous weight off his shoulders, a feeling of comfort,” says showrunner Steve Blackman. “There’s a lightness, a lot more smiling.” For Page, returning to set has been validating, if awkward at times. Yes, people accidentally use the wrong pronouns—“It’s going to be an adjustment,” Page says—but co-workers also see and acknowledge him.

The debate over whether cisgender people, who have repeatedly collected awards for playing trans characters, should continue to do so has largely been settled. However, trans actors have rarely been considered for cisgender parts. Whatever challenges might lie ahead, Page seems exuberant about playing a new spectrum of roles. “I’m really excited to act, now that I’m fully who I am, in this body,” Page says. “No matter the challenges and difficult moments of this, nothing amounts to getting to feel how I feel now.”

This includes having short hair again. During our interview, Page keeps rearranging strands on his forehead. It took a long time for him to return to the barber’s chair and ask to cut it short, but he got there. And how did that haircut feel?

Page tears up again, then smiles. “I just could not have enjoyed it more,” he says.”

[nadisabug]

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x fem! reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Kei was perfectly fine being single and lonely. That is, until you walked into his life…

A/N: soft tsukki head go brrr

This is also a part of the campaign for my wife ( @snoozless ) to become a tsukki simp so send some tsukki love her way!

Haikyuu Masterlist // Love Song Event Masterlist

Tsukishima glared at your sleeping form. How could you be so careless? The teacher was lecturing about the exam just next friday and here you were, fast asleep. He knew you were going to come to him and beg for help on studying, and while he didn’t necessarily want to help you, he knew he would. You had annoyingly clung to his side ever since Yamaguchi had introduced you to him. But for some weird fucking reason, Tsukishima couldn’t bring himself to mind. 

He kept staring at your profile as you rested your head on your folded hands. It stirred an emotion inside of him that he didn’t quite recognize. He kept staring trying to figure out what it was, what was so special about-

“Tsukishima, would you like to pay attention instead of staring off into the distance?” The teacher snapped him out of his thoughts.

Tsukishima frowned and nodded at the teacher, but as soon as they turned around, his eyes were back on you. 

You were looking right at him, a happy little smirk on your face. You sent him a little wave then turned back to the board. 

Fuck. You have been a literal pain in his ass ever since he first met you. 

I was fine before I met you / I was broken but fine / I was lost and uncertain / But my heart was still mine

“Hey, Tsukki wait up!” Tsukishima stopped and waited for his friend to catch up to him without looking up from his phone. He was surfing his playlist, looking for a good song to listen to before he started practice. 

“Hey,” Yamaguchi called again, but this time from Tsukishima’s side. Tsukishima sent him a glance, a ‘what do you want’ kind of look, only to notice that Yamaguchi wasn’t alone. 

Weird. Tsukishima barely even glanced at the girl before turning back to his phone. He pretended to turn one on and put his phone in his pocket. Yamaguchi continued to talk anyway. 

“So this is Y/n. You guys are in the same math class, but you probably don’t know her. She and I are in the same English class and she tutors me in English but then I found out she was doing bad in math and thought ‘Hey I know someone who’s good at math’ and turns out she already knew you. She was just too intimidated to ask you- ow hey it true!” Yamaguchi paused to rub his arm where you smacked him lightly, no doubt embarrassed. “Anyways, can you help her for me, your friend?”

Kei sighed. “Why do I have to help her if you’re the one who owes her?”

Yamaguchi was about to respond indignantly when you spoke up. 

“I know you have no reason to, but I try very hard and I just don’t get it. I promise I will work even harder if you tutor me, and I promise-”

“Fine,” Tsukishima sighed. He turned away and started walking at a brisk pace. “Whatever, I'll do it. Just quit whining already. Meet me tomorrow morning at the library.” 

“Thank you, thank you!” You cheered. He didn’t see you hug Yamaguchi and the way his cheeks grew red at the action. 

He also didn’t see the way you looked at his ass as he walked away. 

I was free before I met you / I was broken but free / All alone in the clear view

“How is 62 the answer?” You groaned. “I just don’t get it, I’m fucking stupid.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” Tsukki replied dryly. 

You leaned over and hit him. “I am not stupid,” you cried. 

“Then why’d you say it?”

“Because you’re supposed to comfort me and say that I am not!”

Tsukki just rolled his eyes. 

“Tsukki, I am going to tell ‘Dashi that you’re being mean to me,” you said grumpily and pulled out your phone. 

Tsukki thought for a moment. “Why do you call Tadashi by his first name and not me?”

You put down your phone and stared at Tsukishima. “Because I figured you wouldn’t like it.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You didn’t care if I liked it or not when you started calling me Tsukki.”

“True,” you shrugged. “But I guess that’s really personal for people who aren’t friends.”

“We aren’t friends?”

“Are we?” You raised an eyebrow. 

Tsukki shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know, I figured you would have made that decision on your own.”

“Am I allowed to?”

Tsukki shrugged again. 

“What a way to ask someone to be their friend,” you laughed. Tsukki felt a pang in his chest at the sound. 

“I am not asking for anything,” Tsukki growled. “Besides, we should get back to studying.”

“Alright, Kei,” you answered, an edge to your voice that Kei couldn’t quite decipher. 

But now you are all I see 

“Hey, Y/n,” Kei began, breaking the fragile silence. 

“Yeah, Kei?” You answered completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He felt shudder down his spine the way you whispered his name, his first name.

“Would you like to come to our game tomorrow?” He spoke quickly and quietly, almost hoping that you wouldn’t hear. He looked down at his book while he spoke, feigning nonchalance. 

“Oh, Tsukki I would love that!” You answered giddily. You tried to play down your excitement but you just couldn’t. “I thought you didn’t like people watching your games? Yams said you don’t even like your brother coming.” 

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Kei frowned. He closed the book in front of him and looked up at you. “I just don’t want my brother there.”

“Or anyone else,” you added with a grin. 

“I want you there.” The response came so easily to Kei, much easier than the lies he had been telling himself for the past months. 

“Then I’ll be there,” you smiled. 

“Since it’s not on a school day,” Kei stopped to clear his throat. “And you know, you won’t be wearing your uniform, do you wanna wear something else, you know, so they know what team you are cheering for?”

You cocked your head to the side. “I don’t know what you're getting at, Tsukki?’

“Do you wanna wear my jersey? I have an extra one.” He paused when your eyes widened. “I mean you don’t have to, it's not like I care-”

“Sure I honestly would love to,” you responded, heat rising to your cheeks. “You know what people will think though…”

“Since when have I cared what other people thought?” Kei scoffed, rolling his eyes. He leaned down to reach into his backpack and pulled out one of his jerseys. “Here, it’s clean,” he added when you didn’t take it. 

You smiled and took it. “Kinda cocky to bring it without knowing if I would even come to the game,” you smirked as you put the jersey into your own bag. 

“Whatever, I knew you would say yes,” he said. But honestly, he didn’t. The only reason he brought the jersey is because his team forced it on him after morning practice. 

“Well now I don’t have to pick out an outfit, I’ll just wear this.”

Kei flushed at the thought. 

“Yeah, whatever, let’s get back to work, idiot.”

Ooh, why'd you have to go and make me like you? / Yeah this is a feeling I'm not used to (ooh)

Taglist: {OPEN}

@thedamjokes​ 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Field Medicine - on ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Jiang Cheng didn’t really like change.

He thought it was a rather justified opinion, as things went – he’d gone through far too much change in his life, staring from the moment Wei Wuxian appeared in his life through to studying at the Cloud Recesses, the indoctrination camp, the loss of his parents and sect, the Sunshot Campaign, and now, even after it was all supposed to be over, Wei Wuxian’s recent change in behavior and personality…

Subconsciously, Jiang Cheng clung to the few things that seemed to remain the same.

Jiang Yanli, for one. No matter what she’d been through, what they’d all been through, she was still his jiejie, warm and wonderful and caring, a refuge from all troubles, and it was so easy to forget how much had changed for her, too. Her engagement to Jin Zixuan had been broken years ago, ages ago, before everything happened and the world irrevocably changed, and yet somehow whenever he had imagined her married, imagined her wedding day, he had always seen her surrounded by the gold of Lanling Jin.

Maybe that was why he was quite so shocked when it was Lan Xichen – First Jade of Lan, Sect Leader Lan, Zewu-jun, the second of the Venerated Triad – who came to him with Jiang Yanli’s arm tucked in his and asked if it would be possible to arrange a date for their marriage.

“To…each other?” he asked, a little stupidly, and then realized how much of an ass he was making of himself. “Uh, of course! I – uh – that is – when did you even meet?”

Jiang Yanli hid a laugh in her sleeve. Lan Xichen was more polite, but there was amusement in his eyes as he recounted the story of how Jiang Yanli had been assisting with medical care during the Sunshot Campaign, how he had been injured on one of his missions, how she had helped him, how they had taken to each other, how he had asked and she had agreed –

When he finished explaining, he lifted up her hand and pressed his lips to it, and for the first time in Jiang Cheng’s life he saw his sister blush and stutter like a girl in love, delight written in every line of her.

His heart gave a pang, and then melted.

She deserved it. She deserved it more than anyone.

“We decided to wait until after the war had ended to tell you,” Jiang Yanli told him, and Jiang Cheng understood. “But it has, now, and so…”

“It’s what you want?” he asked her, just to be sure. “I’d always thought, you know…but this, this makes you happy?”

“It does,” his sister said, and there was no doubt in her tone.

“In that case, of course we’ll set the date,” Jiang Cheng said, and reached out to grasp Lan Xichen’s hands – his new brother-in-law’s hands. “You’d better take good care of her, you hear me? Or else we’ll skin you.”

Wei Wuxian would have thought of a better threat, he thought. Wei Wuxian ought to be here for this, for something of this magnitude, but he hadn’t shown his face here today, even though he’d promised he’d be there, just as he promised, just as he’d failed to appear for days –

He was probably still healing from the final battle, Jiang Cheng forcefully reminded himself, even though actually Wei Wuxian had been fairly obviously up and about for a while. He certainly seemed to find enough energy to go to the wine shops to guzzle down liquor even if he didn’t find time to help out with anything else.

Still. Jiang Cheng wasn’t the one who’d used demonic cultivation to save the day; he shouldn’t judge.

“When would you like to announce the engagement?” he asked, and then frowned, abruptly remembering some gossip that had drifted past his ears. “There’s a celebration in the Nightless City tonight, but I heard…”

He hesitated.

“What?” Jiang Yanli asked, her brow furrowing. “What’s wrong, A-Cheng?”

“I’ve probably heard wrong,” he said, even though he didn’t think he had. “And anyway it’s just rumors, rumors I discounted at once, because I don’t think Sect Leader Jin would – I mean, certainly not without telling us in advance – well -”

“What did you hear?” Lan Xichen asked. There was no judgement in his voice at Jiang Cheng’s stuttering, merely quiet, steady concern. 

He’d be a good brother-in-law.

“I heard,” Jiang Cheng said reluctantly, “that he…that he was thinking of proposing that we reestablish the old engagement. Jiejie and Jin Zixuan.”

He’d heard that Sect Leader Jin planned to surprise them with the proposal in the middle of dinner. Anyone else and he would have dismissed the entire thing out of hand for sheer shamelessness, but with Sect Leader Jin he really couldn’t say for sure.

“I would say no, of course,” JIang Yanli said, and the quickness and surety of her answer relieved him.

“I don’t doubt that,” he said, flashing a brief smile at them both. “But I don’t know if we have time to announce it to everyone before the celebration, and if we let the Jin sect ask and then reject them, they might…”

“It would not be outside the realm of possibility for Sect Leader Jin to take offense for a perceived slight, such as the notion, however mistaken, that we have played him for a fool,” Lan Xichen said, frowning thoughtfully. “And being as his sect is helping to fund both of our sect’s reconstructions, that could be troublesome…I have an idea, actually, if you don’t mind being the subject of a little gossip.”

“Gossip? For a good purpose?” Jiang Cheng said, his voice dry without even meaning to be. “That’d be a nice change.”

“In that case, I’ll leave the two of you now to go set it up. Leave it in my hands,” Lan Xichen said with a smile, releasing Jiang Yanli’s hand and bowing far deeper than he had to – Jiang Cheng made an immediate sound of protest and tried to catch him, but he carried on – and then he left, striding away purposefully.

“You’re going to get married,” Jiang Cheng said to his older sister, abruptly excited, and pulled her close. “Oh, jiejie…!”

“I’m happy,” she said, and she looked it – she looked radiant. “I’m so happy, A-Cheng!”

“You deserve every happiness in the world,” Jiang Cheng said. “Wei Wuxian and I will plan you the best wedding, jiejie, you’ll see – oh, where is he? He should be here by now! He’ll miss the celebration tonight!”

As always, he wanted to say. Just like he’s missed everything else to do with the reconstruction, with training the new disciples, with – wasn’t he supposed to help me? Didn’t he promise me to be by my side? Was all of it a lie, did he actually want my position the way mother always thought, or did he just at some point stop caring –

“He knows it’s happening,” she assured him. There was no doubt in her voice. “He’ll be there.”

“But then we won’t be able to tell him in advance…!”

“I’ll tell him it’s my fault for waiting so late to tell you, and of course it’s all Sect Leader Jin’s fault for not telling any of us what he was planning,” Jiang Yanli said. “Don’t worry, A-Cheng.”

Wei Wuxian showed up right before the banquet – without his sword, again – and Jiang Cheng wanted to tell him, but couldn’t. They were surrounded by so many people, and if people found out that Wei Wuxian hadn’t known in advance, it might suggest to them that he was distancing himself from the Jiang sect…

Which wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“Don’t act surprised,” Jiang Cheng murmured to Wei Wuxian as they walked in to be greeted by Jin Guangyao. “I’ll explain later.”

Wei Wuxian shot him a curious expression, but then they were talking with Jin Guangyao and all the sects were starting to congregate. Jin Guangshan was walking up to the main seat with an avid expression; he was likely going to start the celebration with a speech soon. There wasn’t time to say more.

What was Lan Xichen planning?

Just as Jiang Cheng thought that, Nie Mingjue, looking through the crowd from his excessive height, caught sight of Lan Xichen and strode over to his sworn brother – the entire room parted to let him pass, as usual, he was a hard man to miss – and then he said, in a voice that appeared almost unintentionally loud, “Xichen! What’s this I hear about you finally proposing? I insist you let me help plan the wedding!”

The entire room stopped paying the slightest bit of attention to anything else.

“Da-ge, please,” Lan Xichen said, although he was clearly smiling. Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell at this distance, but he would bet money that his eyes were curved up in suppressed laughter.

Nor could he blame him. Using Nie Mingjue’s horn-blast of a voice to “unintentionally” spread the information was a brilliant move – everyone knew Nie Mingjue was often over-loud, especially when he was being enthusiastic, and what was more natural than a pair of sworn brothers discussing the subject of an upcoming marriage? This way, there would not need to be any public announcement until the formal one, and Jin Guangshan could change his plans without losing face.

“It’s really not necessary,” Lan Xichen continued, pretending to be oblivious to the crowd of onlookers. If Jiang Cheng hadn’t known that he knew, he would have thought he actually was. “We’re only in the most preliminary discussions – we haven’t even set the date. We’re not even ready to announce it!”

Which is why they were going through all of this.

“Nonsense,” Nie Mingjue said. “Spare me your superstitions, Xichen. Not only would no woman in their right mind reject you, there can be no doubt that you and Mistress Jiang will be a wonderful pair, and I have every intention of drinking to your health this very night. Surely you can find someone who can calculate an auspicious date among all the sects gathered here?”

The rest of the room broke out in whispers the second Jiang Yanli was referenced, people starting to turn to stare at Jiang Cheng – Jiang Yanli, out on the balcony with the majority of the female cultivators, was temporarily spared – and at that point, Jin Guangyao materialized by his two sworn brothers’ sides, his smile a little strained (although nowhere near the abrupt scowl appearing on Jin Guangshan’s face), and their conversation dropped down to a more reasonable volume.

Jin Zixuan had something of a constipated expression on his face, too, but Jiang Cheng didn’t give one tiny bit of a damn about that – he’d had his chance. If he learned now, too late, to regret what he had lost, then that was on him. Let him go mourn in private, and leave the rest of them alone.

Jiang Cheng gave the room a mysterious smile, more a smirk really, and stepped on Wei Wuxian’s foot when his shixiong looked like he was going to say something. “You really need to start showing up on time,” he murmured, his voice low. “They agreed on it ages ago, apparently, but only told me today.”

Wei Wuxian nodded dumbly.

They might have managed to actually shock him silent, Jiang Cheng reflected, amused despite himself, and he glanced over at the Venerated Triad again – smiles on all faces, even if he did think Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue looked a bit more natural with it than poor Jin Guangyao – with the thought that they ought to be venerated for this little stunt as well as all their other strengths, and that’s when he suddenly had a moment of absolute brilliance.

“Wei Wuxian, you’re not doing anything right now, right? How about you go to Gusu as jiejie’s representative to negotiate some of the details that need to be covered with the Lan sect?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Dowries and such, that sort of thing. They’ll send someone to us, but under the circumstances we don’t want to put them to too much trouble in terms of travel right now. As sect leader, I really shouldn’t be leaving the Lotus Pier right now, but it’s not the same for you.”

Wei Wuxian was clearly unhappy with the Jiang sect recently, though Jiang Cheng did not know why; the only reasonable assumption was that the problem was with him, maybe, or may be with Wei Wuxian himself. Moreover, he knew Lan Wangji had been on Wei Wuxian’s case about the demonic cultivation, asking him time and time again to go with him to the Cloud Recesses, as if he thought there was something there that could help him…

If setting up this marriage could help convince Wei Wuxian to stop everything he was doing and take up regular cultivation once more, walk him back from the strange road he’d chosen and back to Jiang Cheng’s side, that would be – fantastic.

That was the only thing left. It would make it all perfect.

Before Wei Wuxian could demur, Jiang Cheng added, “Jiejie deserves only the best.”

Wei Wuxian folded at once, as he’d hoped.

Perfect, he thought, pleased with everything. Finally, everything, from now on, can be perfect.

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier Dungeons and Dragons AU of my dreams (inspired by the TAD AMA and Joey apparently being an amazing dm):

-"Why do you hate fun," Eskel complains - for the fifth time that day - after Geralt refused his invitation to a new DnD campaign - for the fifth time that day. Geralt doesn't hate fun. He hates play-acting and games, especially if they rely on luck and are overly complicated, he hates big groups of people, and he hates being told stories. Dungeons and Dragons encompasses all of those aspects and that is why Geralt avoids it like the plague. "It's not for me," he mutters and hands Eskel the sandwiches he made for him to take to work. - "But this Jaskier guy is legendary, like I heard he's the best Dungeonmaster in the state." - "Likely an exaggeration...." - "Pleeaaaase. I had to bribe the hell out of Aiden to have him give up the two spots he had." That piques Geralt's interest. "What'd you bribe him with?" Eskel scratches his head sheepishly. "I may have sold our brother's hand in marriage." - "That's ballsy for you... does Lambert know of his luck yet?" Eskel shakes his head and Geralt huffs a laugh. His brothers are unbelievable, one so nerdy it makes up for Geralt's complete lack of interest in pop culture, the other an oblivious prick that tends to get arrested for being offensive. Ciri is their only hope. "So are you coming?" - "Absolutely no way."

-Geralt doesn't want to go and until half an hour before the game is supposed to start, he keeps his resolve. But then Eskel bursts into their shared living room - their flat is still attached to their father's house, but separate enough that it feels like their own; Lambert has a type penthouse suite to himself and Ciri still lives with Vesemir in the main house - with an excited blush and wearing a WoW shirt and the biggest, brightest puppy eyes, and begs Geralt on hands and knees to come with him. "Why though?" Geralt asks. "Would be more fun if I stayed away..." - "But I'm awkward and your pretty face may distract from that." - "Esk, we have the same face." Which is true, save for... oh. The scars. Of course, Geralt wants to smack himself. Eskel always tends to be more self-conscious in groups of new people because of his marred face, an accident in the zoo when they were young. He believes having Geralt with him shows other people how he is supposed to look like. Geralt doesn't believe it's a great coping mechanism, but he can never deny his twin anything. "Fuck," he grumbles and a triumphant grin blooms over Eskel's features.

-That first session is to go over the basics for anyone who needs a refresher and to talk about what each player expects from the campaign bla bla bla; Geralt doesn't contribute more than the odd grunt and is soon distracted by Jaskier's bright eyes, his pretty mouth, his whole energetic demeanor... he develops a little fixation over the course of the evening and gives up on trying to understand the game

-Jaskier approaches him after, while everyone else is exchanging notes on their characters, excited and electric and Geralt hasn't the first clue on what to do. A light hand on his shoulder, a welcoming smile. "Geralt, right?" Geralt nods curtly and Jaskier pulls up a chair and sits. Way too close for Geralt's comfort. He doesn't... mind? Fuck are those butterflies? Already? "If you have trouble figuring out your character, we could always do a private session to get you going. What do you say?" - "Saturday," Geralt grunts in reply. Jaskier claps delightedly, then is distracted by one of the women, Calanthe Geralt recalls, asking if she can play a lioness shapeshifter. He lets Eskel collect him, endures his brother's constant prattle on the ride back. He dares to give the whole thing a shot.

-Their private session starts out with Jaskier explaining different classes of characters, a few bottles of Geralt's favourite Redanian Lager on the side. He tries to listen, at least at first. But then Jaskier keeps licking froth from his lips and some of the perspiration from the cold bottles runs down his exposed neck and fuck, Geralt just can't stop himself. Eskel said over and over that Jaskier was basically a magician, but Geralt thought that would be restricted to the game. Nope. His dick definitely twitches when Jaskier leans over him to grab the dice Geralt brought upon Eskel's recommendation. Geralt catches a whiff of his shampoo - vanilla? - and Jaskier's arm brushes Geralt and well. He lets out a low whine. Jaskier hums a question mark, but when he sees the look on Geralt face his encouraging smile turns devilish, knowing. "Good," he breathes, drops the dice and climbs onto Geralt's lap. "I thought it was only me." Geralt catches Jaskier's hips and they kiss. No classes are studied that day, no alignments picked, no attributes determined. Instead, Geralt learns all the beautiful noises Jaskier can make, learns some of his own anew. They will need another private session to make up for lost time

-"Perhaps I should just design a character for you," Jaskier pants into Geralt's neck as he slow-fucks him on their couch, Eskel being out with Lambert to clear up the whole Aiden thing. It's the third time they're meeting to figure out Geralt's character. Geralt grunts and accelerates just enough to keep them both on the edge. His skin is burning and Jaskier writhes, his shoulders littered with bite marks. "Oh, fuck, Geralt, please." Later, Geralt agrees to Jaskier's suggestion. He makes him pancakes for breakfast.

-When the first session is well underway, everyone quickly realizes that this game really isn't for Geralt. He tries, he does. Jaskier was kind, gave him a stoic half-orc warrior that communicates mostly with grunts, but he still doesn't get all the rules and Calanthe is getting impatient with him, her boyfriend Eist amused by this, and Eskel keeps throwing the dice for Geralt, and these girls, Téa and Véa, stare daggers at him. Jaskier's watches it all with amusement, gently steering the group back towards their adventure - not that Geralt has the first clue what their objective is. But Geralt wants to keep playing if only because Jaskier is so fucking beautiful in his element, imitating voices, using the most ridiculous vocabulary, glowing with pure joy. It's a privilege to see, Geralt understands that now. And he has to thank Eskel for taking him despite his reservations

-"Won't you go on a normal date with me?" Geralt asks one night when they are wrapped up in Jaskier's bed, contented and tired from their earlier activities. "I could take you hunting or whatever." - "That's what you call a normal date?" Jaskier laughs and kisses him lightly. They haven't defined whatever it is they're doing, but Geralt is in no rush. Especially because he hasn't yet dared to breach the topic with Eskel who quickly befriended Jaskier (and everyone else of course, at the end of the day Eskel is a social butterfly, no matter what scars he bears). "Just... go out with me." - "You know, usually I have a strict policy for dating players, but... well that's already way out the window so, yeah, okay. I'll go out with you. But we're absolutely not going hunting, I'm a vegetarian." Alas, there had to be some catch.

-Geralt keeps playing and his permanent confusion becomes part of his character as well. It isn't ideal, but the others - and Jaskier's forgiving storytelling - drag him through to the end of it. By then, Geralt almost gets it. "Well," Jaskier concludes. "That was a bit of a different campaign. Hope you all liked it." The bastard acts abashed. Hah. Geralt and Eskel are the last ones to leave after they all toasted and talked about playing again some time. "You coming?" Eskel asks, hovering near the door. He's long past his initial anxiety, his fangirling, his self-consciousness. That too has been a glorious part of this, seeing Eskel unfold, gain confidence, be at ease. He likes that he could give his brother the safety he needed. "I, uhm," Geralt starts, but Jaskier interrupts by threading his arm through Geralt's. "We are! What's for dinner?" And he drags Geralt past Eskel who raises a brow. Geralt tries to communicate with his eyes all he neglected to tell Eskel. It's only because they're so close that Eskel at least understands that they are something like boyfriends now. He laughs.

-"My baby brother," Eskel lulls later when Jaskier is already passed out from too much wine and Geralt and him stand outside, sharing a rare cigarette. He ruffles Geralt head. "I'd wondered why you stuck around so long." - "Fuck off," Geralt says.

-The next time Eskel invites him to a campaign, Geralt tags along. Not because he particularly wants to, but because now there are two pairs of puppy eyes, begging him, and he can't say no to either of them, let alone both (maybe someday he will actually enjoy the game for its own merits)

[pintsizemama]

Heroes & Heartbreak

Chapter 9

Summary: The DEA agents and the CIA find ways around the limits set on them by the Colombian government. Javi and Steve get to see Ari in action. The DEA agents join Carrillo and his men for drinks…and get more than they bargained for. Javi ‘punishes’ Ari.

Pairings: Javier Peña x OFC Ariana Morgan—DEA Agent and daughter of Pablo Escobar

Fandom: Narcos

Rating: Explicit 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7640

Warnings: language, misogyny, violence (fist fight), drinking, PiV sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), breath play, rough sex, squirting, possessiveness, jealousy, teasing, spanking, Javi’s starting to catch feelings, reference to age difference, power play, edging, Dom/sub tones, bondage, discussion of safe word, derogatory language (consensual)...let me know if I missed anything, and I’ll happily add it here!

Chapter 8 Chapter 10 Series Masterlist Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

Weeks went by. Search Bloc was deployed with a vengeance. Dozens of raids, but no Escobar. The DEA sat sidelined, and frustrated. Escobar’s bombing campaign rattled the nation. There was all out war in Colombia—exactly what Gaviria was trying to avoid. Ari, Steve, and Javi were growing impatient. Ari suggested they meet with the CIA to see if they could work together to get around the red tape.

“Without Colombian permission to put assets in the air, we can't help,” Russell told them reluctantly.

“In terms of intercepts, yeah, but what do you guys got on ground intel?” Steve asked.

“You mean spies?”

“Yes,” Steve confirmed. Russell sighed and then chuckled lightly.

“We don't have any narco assets. Our human intelligence is limited to communists. Besides, Gaviria doesn't want you chasing Escobar with CIA spies.”

“But you got satellites in the sky, right?” Javi questioned.

“Yes,” Russell said, hesitantly, “but to use them in pursuit of narcos would be a direct violation of the order of our host country.”

“Man, you're CIA,” Javi said, sipping his coffee. “You break rules all the time.” Russell seemed intrigued.

“Just get us some aerial photos,” Ariana said. “I think I may know a way to find these fuckers.” Russell nodded and left the room. Ari leaned back with a sigh, “And now we wait.” The boys smiled at her.

The CIA came through and soon they were meeting with Russell and Wysession to go over the aerials.

“These are aerial photographs of comunas controlled by Escobar and his associates,” the CIA operative told them.

“We'll use them to track his men,” Javi said, and undercurrent of excitement in his voice.

“These are aerials,” the Colonel said, trying to burst his bubble. “We can't track individuals with these.”

“Take a look,” Steve said, standing up and walking over the the aerial photos on the board. “The Los Priscos gang controls El Poblado. Here in Santa Cruz, we got the comuna where they recruited the Avianca bomber.”

“And both places more densely packed than a Marrakesh bazaar,” Wysession said cynically.

“So let's take a tip from the Colombians,” Javi said holding up his hand as Steve tossed the red marker to him. “You notice anything special about these?” He circled one of the photos. “Search Bloc follows vehicle traffic in the comunas. You've got...” he laid down a couple photos, pointing to the vehicles. “Japanese imports... four-by-fours. Cars over 40 grand. Narcos are the only ones who can afford these cars.”

“Whenever aerials see these cars, we know sicarios are inside,” Steve told the men.

“That's right,” Javi agreed.

“We start tracking these rice rockets, we might be able to get to Escobar,” Steve said. There was a moment of silence.

“I’m impressed,” Wysession said reluctantly.

“Don’t look at us,” Steve corrected, hands up in front of him. “This was all Ari.” The two men looked shocked.

“You could at least pretend to hide your surprise gentlemen,” she chided them. “Told you I was more than a ‘hot piece of ass.’” Steve whistled low.

“Did they really say that?” He asked, looking at his partner. She nodded.

“Oh, yeah. It was a couple weeks after I transferred. Pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to hear that conversation...but I did.”

“She doesn’t like that,” Steve warned teasingly.

“Yeah,” Wysession said gruffly, “And she chewed our asses out for it.”

“You deserved it, Colonel.” She smiled sweetly at him. He nodded.

“Sorry,” they both said gruffly. She waved them off, not caring in the least. She was so used to misogynistic assholes, she didn’t even get worked up over the comments anymore.

“I still think you’re a hot piece of ass,” Javi said with a grin. She threw the marker at Javi’s head as Steve laughed.

The next couple weeks they brought all the aerials given to them by the CIA to Carrillo. He organized Search Bloc to go after the sicarios. Javi, Steve, and Ari went along in an ‘observational capacity”. Officially. Unofficially, they were just as involved as they had always been. They were following Carrillo out one afternoon when the guys got a chance to see Ari in all her glory. They had tracked four sicarios in one of the expensive cars. Carrillo quickly mobilized his men, and the DEA rushed out with them. They cornered the car. Escobar’s men panicked and jumped out before they were completely boxed in. They took off running. Carrillo’s men weren’t as quick as the Americans. They were out of their Jeep in a flash, running after the criminals. They heard Carrillo shouting behind them, ordering his men to organize to make sure these fuckers didn’t get away.

“Shit!” Steve swore, seeing one of them break off.

“I got him,” Ari shouted, veering off from her partners to go after him.

“Fuck! Ari!” Javi shouted, not liking her getting out of their sight, but it was too late. The other three got smart and split up too. Javier followed one, Steve another. Carrillo was catching up, shouting out to let them know he’d track the fourth. They ran through the streets and over the rooftops. Carrillo corralled his guy back towards his men, and they easily took him down. Javi and Steve managed to do the same. They were standing around a large group of Carrillo’s men, the three sicarios bound and sitting on the ground.

“Where’s Ari?” Javier panted, leaning down, trying to catch his breath.

“I don’t know,” Steve gasped back. Shit, they were getting too old for this.

“Carrillo,” Javi shouted. “Any eyes on Ari?” The colonel walked over.

“No,” he said quietly. The three men looked at each other, all concerned for their favorite agent. They heard gun shots from the next street over. Javier felt pure terror. Carrillo ordered half the men to stay with the prisoners and the rest to follow him and the Americans. Javi and Steve sprinted towards the gunfire, the Colombians close behind. They turned the corner and all stopped dead at what they saw. Ari was kicking the absolute shit out of the sicario. He was fighting back, but she was clearly the better fighter. Their guns were off to the side, having disarmed each other in the fight. He swung at her and she ducked, landing a punch to his ribs as she came back up. He grunted in pain, but managed to catch her cheek on the next swing. He swung again. She grabbed his wrist as she dodged his punch. She hooked her leg around the back of his to bring him down. She rolled him over and pulled his arm up behind his back as she knelt down on his lower back, pinning him into place.

“¡Basta, cabrón!” (Enough, asshole!) She spat at the man. She quickly cuffed him and stepped back when she noticed the colonel and his men. “He’s all yours.” The men were staring at her. “What?”

“That was incredible, niñita,” Carrillo said. She rolled her eyes at the nickname. He knew she hated it, but still insisted on using it sometimes, for exactly that reason.

“It wasn’t that great,” she complained. “I should have caught him much sooner, but this fucker was fast.”

“I didn’t know you could fight like that,” Steve said, in awe. Javi could not stop staring at her. She was sweating, chest heaving, her cheek starting to swell a bit from the blow she took, blood dripping from her split lip. And seeing her take down the sicario...he felt his cock twitch in his pants. He walked over quickly and cupped her face in his hands, examining her wounds.

“You alright, hermosa?” He asked softly. She nodded. When she saw the fear still in his eyes, she reached up and squeezed his wrist.

“I’m alright, Javi,” she assured him. He nodded and dropped his hands. Neither noticed the look Steve and Carrillo passed to each other after witnessing the interaction. Ari walked over and picked up her gun, reaching behind her back, and shoving it into the waistband of her jeans.

“Let us know if you get anything from these guys,” Ari told Carrillo. The colonel nodded. “You guys ready to go?” She looked at her partners. They just stared at her.

“I think they’re still stunned,” Carrillo said, laughing. That’s snapped them out of their trance.

“Yeah,” Javier said, clearing his throat. “Let’s get outta here.” They started making their way back towards the Jeep.

“Hey!” Carrillo called out. They stopped and turned back. “First round is on me tonight. Go get cleaned up, and I’ll meet you guys at the bar after we get our guests comfortable.”

“Sounds good, man,” Steve said. “See you in a bit.” They piled into the Jeep a few minutes later, physically exhausted, but mentally exhilarated. Hopefully Carrillo could get something useful from the men they had just caught. Ari gave Javi a look when he climbed into the back with her instead of the front seat.

“Whatcha doing there, Javi?” She asked him. He grunted as he stretched out on the back seat, putting his head in her lap.

“I’m tired and sore,” he whined. “Wanna lay down.” She chuckled and shook her head.

“What the hell, man?” Steve said, annoyed. “Not fair! I’d love to lay my head down in a beautiful girl’s lap too, but I gotta drive!” Javi flicked him off and snuggled into Ari’s thighs. Steve started driving them back to the apartment complex so they could get cleaned up. Ari ran her hands through Javi’s sweat dampened hair. He sighed and relaxed into her.

“You were amazing, querida,” he said quietly. She lightly squeezed the back of his neck, acknowledging his praise.

“I try,” she teased. She carded her hands gently through his hair the entire drive. He nearly fell asleep he was so relaxed. He loved being with her. It scared the shit out of him how much he loved being with her. He thought about her all the time. He had felt pure terror when they didn’t know where she was, and they heard those gunshots. The thought of losing her...he couldn’t go down that path.

He groaned when she lightly scratched his scalp. She always made him feel so fucking good. They pulled up to the apartment.

“All right, you lazy piece of shit,” Steve said, turning back to Javi. “We’re here. Get your ass outta my car.” Ari chuckled as Javi groaned and got out of the car. They walked into the building at stopped at the base of the stairs.

“You guys wanna drive together?” Steve asked them.

“Yeah,” Ari said.

“Sounds good,” Javi agreed.

“Ok,” Steve said with a nod. “I’ll meet you guys back here in half an hour?”

“Make it forty-five minutes,” Javi said suddenly. Steve gave him a look. “Wanna shower.” Steve cocked a brow at his partner. Javi knew he never took that long to get ready. He was worried that Steve had been picking up the slight changes in his and Ari’s relationship. They were discreet, but Steve knew them both so well…well enough to sense the change. The look Steve shot him made Javi think Steve knew Javi wouldn’t be showering alone. Steve laughed softly.

“All right,” he agreed. “Forty-five minutes.” He trudged upstairs. Ari and Javi didn’t move until they heard Steve’s door close. Javier looked at Ari.

“Want to join me for that shower?” He asked her quietly. She smiled.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him into her apartment. They made their way to the bathroom, clothes stripped and dropped along the way. Ari reached in and turned the shower on. When she turned around, Javier grabbed her and pulled her in for a devastating kiss, mindful of her swollen lip.

“You looked so fucking hot taking down that sicario today,” he moaned against her mouth. “I wanted to fuck you right there in the street in front of Steve and Carrillo and all his men.” He moved down to suck on her neck. Ari chuckled.

“I’m sure they would have enjoyed watching that,” she told him with a throaty laugh.

“Yeah they would,” he grunted. “All those assholes want you...but you’re mine, baby.” A shiver ran down Ari’s spine at his possessive words.

“Yes, Javi,” she whispered. “I’m yours.” Javier growled. She pulled his lips back to hers, tongues and teeth clashing as they were swept away in their passion for each other. Ari backed up, pulling him with her until they were in the shower and under the hot torrent of water. He pressed her up against the cold tile wall. She gasped at the temperature change. Javi pulled her tighter to him, devouring her mouth.

“Careful, baby,” she whispered, pulling away, her busted lip protesting his ardent attention.

“Sorry,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb gently across her bottom lip. He moved his lips to her neck as his other hand caressed its way down to the apex of her thighs. She moaned as he grazed his index finger across her clit. After a few gentle touches she grabbed the back of his head.

“Don’t tease me, Javi,” she groaned, pulling his face back up to hers. “I need you. Now.” Her adrenaline was still buzzing from the chase and the fight. She needed to be fucked. Hard. She reached down and grabbed his throbbing cock. He hissed between his teeth at the feel of her hand encasing him.

“You got it, baby,” he growled. He spun her around and pressed her front against the wall. He kicked her legs further apart and lined himself up at her entrance. He gripped her hips tightly and filled her in one hard thrust. She let out a choked scream at the sudden invasion. It stung, but dammit, it felt amazing. He set a brutal pace right from the start, needing a hard fuck just as much as her. He slammed into her repeatedly, pressing her harder and harder against the cold tile wall, the obscene sound of his hips pounding against her ass too loud to be drowned out by the cascading water.

“Fuck, Javi,” Ari whimpered. “Right there!” He was hammering into her G-spot. He knew what those whimpers meant. She only made those sounds when she was about to squirt.

“You gonna soak me, baby?” He grunted against her ear. “Fuck,” he bit her ear lobe, “C’mon, querida, drench my dick with that gorgeous cum of yours.” He thrust harder as he felt her clenching tighter around him. “That’s it, baby. Just”—thrust—“like”—thrust—“that.” Her pussy tightened around him like a vice as she keened loudly. Her head fell back against his shoulder. Javi felt a warm gush of liquid. “Yes, querida, that’s my good girl.” Ari shivered at his words. He didn’t let up, pounding her through her orgasm. He reached his arm around her, his hand coming up to grasp her neck. He tightened his grip slightly, pulling her head back towards him.

“This okay?” He whispered, checking to make sure he could proceed.

“Fuck, yes,” Ari panted. He felt his cock swell at her permission. He gripped tighter, starting to cut off her blood flow. “Javi,” she wheezed, loving the heady feeling. His other hand came down to circle her clit. It didn’t take long for her second orgasm to build. She was embarrassingly close to coming again.

“Javi,” she whispered through his grip, “I’m close.”

“Me too, baby,” he grunted. He gripped her tight and pressed harder on her clit. The blood was rushing in her ears, her vision darkening at the edges. A few more thrusts and she was sent hurtling into her next orgasm. She slammed her hand against the wall and threw her head back against Javi’s shoulder as she came with a garbled cry. The feeling of her coming undone around him sent Javier over the edge.

“Fuck!” He shouted as he emptied himself inside her. His vision went black as his body released all the pent up tension. He all but collapsed against her, pressing her into the wall, the warm water beating down on his back. His grip on her neck loosened. He stood there, weakly, for a moment, panting to catch his breath. He shivered as he slowly pulled his softening cock from her warm body. She turned to look at him, a blissful smile on her face. He placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. He backed up a little, giving her some space.

“We should probably wash up,” he murmured. She nodded, pushing herself off the wall. They finished their shower quickly, but clumsily, still a bit dazed from the mind-blowing sex. While they dried off in the bathroom, Javi noticed her cheek was starting to bruise. He wrapped the towel around his waist and quickly exited the bathroom. Ari gave him a puzzled look, wondering what he was doing. He returned a couple minutes later to find her in the bedroom, pulling a pair of jeans on over her underwear, bra already clasped in place.

“Here,” he said quietly, holding out a bag of ice. She looked at him questioningly. “For your cheek, querida,” he clarified, pointing to her face. “You’re starting to bruise.” Her eyes widened in acknowledgement.

“Thanks,” she murmured, touched by his thoughtfulness. She took the ice and pressed it gently to her face. She hissed slightly at the cold. She held it to her face as she rummaged through her dresser. She grabbed a shirt for herself and a few other items.

“Here,” she said, tossing some clothes to Javi. “You can wear them tonight, or use them to go to your place and grab something else.” Javi looked down at the clean pair of jeans and button down.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. He had decided to leave a change of clothes at her apartment after the second time they ripped one of his shirts in their hurry to fuck. Ari had no idea what a huge step that was for Javier. He never left a trace of himself behind with the other women he’d fucked. Something as simple as a change of clothes in her dresser...it was a big fucking deal to Javier.

“These will work fine,” he told her. Ari nodded, putting the ice pack down to pull her shirt over her head. Javi dressed quickly. He couldn’t help but admire her figure in the tight jeans and fitted t-shirt.

“Star Wars?” He questioned, eying her shirt with a cocked eyebrow.

“What?” She asked innocently. “You have a problem with Star Wars?”

“No,” Javi said. “I just didn’t take you as a...”

“Nerd?” Ari supplied.

“Fan,” Javi quickly tried to save himself. Ari laughed.

“Yeah,” she told him, “big fan. Big nerd too.” He chuckled. “Read Lord of the Rings in high school and everything.”

“I learn something new about you every day, querida,” he smiled at her.

“I gotta keep you on your toes, old man,” she teased.

“Who you calling old?” Javi asked, offended.

“You, handsome,” she said, placing the ice back on her cheek.

“Could an old man rail you the way I just did in that shower, baby?” He said in a low voice.

“Hmm, I guess so, since one just did,” she taunted him. He grinned at her.

“You’re in for it tonight,” he warned her.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she shot back. Javi’s eyes darkened.

“You just wait,” he threatened hotly. “Someone needs to learn how to behave.” Ari shivered at the implication.

“You sure you’ll be up for it?” She asked innocently. “I mean, don’t you have to be in bed in about an hour, old man?”

“That’s it,” he growled, lunging for her. She squealed and ran away from him, towards the living room. He caught up to her and tackled her onto the couch. He wrestled her into his lap.

“What am I gonna do with you, hermosa?” He asked gruffly. “You need to be taught a lesson.” He eyed her for a moment. “I know.” He turned her over his knee.

“Javi!” She squealed, her ass in the air over his lap. He smoothed his hand over the supple, denim covered flesh. He gave her a light, experimental slap. She squealed once more, though quieter this time. He brought his hand down a little harder, and she whimpered.

“You like that, querida?” He asked huskily. She nodded. “Well, you’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment. Maybe I need to try a little harder.” His hand came down with a loud crack. Ari moaned. “Dammit, baby,” he groaned, his cock twitching. “You are fucking perfect.” He pulled her up and stood in front of her. He stared her down a moment. “It looks like I need to find a new way to teach you a lesson.” He glanced at the time. “We’ve gotta get moving. Steve will be waiting outside for us soon. Don’t want him to see us coming out together.” Ari nodded.

“I’ll go out first to make sure he’s not already waiting,” she told Javi, moving to the door. She poked her head out and looked around. “Coast is clear.” They walked out of her apartment and waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs. Steve came down a couple minutes later.

“All set?” Steve asked as he reached the base of the steps.

“Yep,” Ari said.

“Awesome,” Steve beamed. “Let’s get outta here.” Ari and Javier walked by to head out the door. Javi noticed Steve sniffing slightly as Javi passed him, a smirk on his face. Javi realized he smelled like Ari’s soap. So fucking much for discretion, Javi thought with a grimace.

When they arrived at the bar they quickly spotted Carrillo seated at a table with Trujillo. He waved them over when he saw them. Javier looked around, noticing quite a few of Carrillo’s men in the bar.

“What’s going on?” Javi asked, motioning his head towards Carrillo’s men.

“They heard we were meeting up here and wanted to join,” Carrillo told him. Javi raised an eyebrow, suspecting there was more to the story.

“I’m gonna grab our first round,” Ari told Steve and Javi.

“I said I’d get the first round, princesa,” Carrillo cut in.

“You get the next one, Colonel,” Ari said with a smile. She made her way to the bar while the men watched her. The DEA agents sat across from Trujillo and Carrillo. Steve and Javier noticed all Carrillo’s men had their eyes on her.

“What the fuck’s going on here?” Steve asked. Trujillo chuckled.

“They all want to buy Ari a drink,” he told them.

“She impressed them today,” Carrillo said. “I think half my men are in love with her now.” He laughed. Javi ground his teeth. Steve stood up quickly.

“I’m gonna go help her with the drinks,” he said suddenly, noticing some of Carrillo’s men getting closer. He was very protective of Ari, and he also didn’t want Javier to start trouble if anyone hit on her. Carrillo watched as Steve rushed to Ari’s side. He chuckled as he watched Steve place himself between Ari and the approaching men.

“He’s very protective of her, no?” Carrillo asked, nodding towards Steve.

“We all are,” Javi told him. Carrillo nodded in agreement. The three men would sacrifice anything to keep her safe. A moment later Steve ushered Ari back to the table, drinks in hand. He placed his drink down and handed Trujillo and Carrillo theirs.

“Ari, you can take that seat,” he gestured to the empty chair next to Javi and across from Carrillo. “I’ll grab another chair.” Ari sat down and handed Javi his whiskey.

“Thanks, hermosa,” Javi said quietly. She winked at him as she took a sip of her drink. Carrillo watched the exchange closely. Steve pulled a chair up and sat at the end of the table between Ari and Carrillo.

“So, get anything from the sicarios yet?” Steve asked Carrillo.

“Nothing yet,” he told them. “They’re currently ‘getting comfortable’ in their interrogation room. A day or two and we should know more.” Ari couldn’t help the slight shiver of trepidation that went down her spine at the memory of their interrogation methods. She did not envy those men. Carrillo and Javi both noticed her stiffen slightly. Carrillo felt guilt claw at his chest once more. Javi reached under the table and gently squeezed her thigh, letting her know he was there and she was safe. She tossed him a subtle look of thanks.

The next couple hours passed happily as the group shared stories and many, many drinks. Several of Carrillo’s men came over throughout the night, bringing drinks and praise for Ari. She blushed and stammered, not liking all the attention. Javier scowled at each and every man who spoke to her. Carrillo and Steve noticed how tense Javier was getting.

“We need another round,” Steve said suddenly when he noticed the muscle ticking in Javi’s jaw. The last admirer had been much more forward than the previous ones, and Javier was reaching his limit.

“I’ll get this one,” Ari told them. “Haven’t had to pay for a drink all night...it’s the least I could do.” She chuckled. She scrambled to the bar, needing to get away from Javier’s intensity for a few minutes. She could feel the anger rolling off him. He was not happy about the attention she was getting tonight.

“They’re really making fools of themselves,” Trujillo said mockingly. The men nodded.

“Can you blame them?” Carrillo asked quietly. Javi’s gaze snapped to him. “She is one of a kind...I have never met another woman like her. I’m not surprised she has enchanted my men.”

“It’s not just your men that are infatuated,” Steve said gruffly. Javi tensed, wondering if Steve knew what was going on between him and Ari.

“Oh?” Carrillo pushed.

“Yeah,” Steve continued. “You should have seen the way Eduardo Sandoval was looking at her at our meeting with the president.” Javi ground his teeth. “He spoke with us after the meeting...he was quite taken with her.”

“I have no doubt,” Carrillo said, watching Ari. “You would be wise to act fast, amigo,” he turned to Javi. Javier raised his eyebrows, not sure what he was implying.

“Don’t look surprised,” Carrillo said with a chuckle. “I see the way you look at her. Make your move, Peña.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Javier ground out. Carrillo smiled.

“Deny your feelings all you want,” he insisted, “but she will not remain single for long. She enchants everyone she meets. And if I’m being honest, if I wasn’t a happily married man...I’d be first in line to ask her out.” The other men looked shocked at his confession. “Don’t let her slip away, Peña.”

“She’s just my partner,” Javier insisted. “Nothing more.” They did not look convinced, but just then, Ari came back with the drinks. She noticed how tense the men looked.

“What are we talking about?” She asked as she sat back down.

“Nothing important,” Javier bit out. Steve could tell he was going to lose his shit soon, so he quickly changed the subject.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that, Ari?” He asked her.

“I got the same training as you guys,” she told them, with a shrug.

“I know,” he said, “but it was still surprising.”

“Why?” She asked, sitting up straighter. “Because I’m a woman?” Steve swallowed, realizing he had really stepped in it. “Just because I have a vagina doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass.” The men chuckled. Carrillo eyed Javier almost as if to say, I told you so. Ariana Morgan was unlike any woman they knew. They continued bullshitting and drinking for another couple hours.

“Probably time to call it,” Carrillo said. They all still had to work in the morning.

“Good idea,” Steve agreed.

“Well, Ari,” Trujillo started, “you have your pick if you don’t want to go home alone tonight.” He gestured to the bar full of their men. Javi clenched his fist.

“I’m good,” Ari laughed.

“You sure?” Trujillo teased. She nodded.

“Yep,” she assured him. “I’m all set.” Javi relaxed slightly, knowing she would be going home with him tonight. He still had a punishment to dole out...

“Alright, well, let’s hit it then,” Steve said standing up. They said their goodbyes and drove back to the apartment in companionable silence. Javi and Ari bid Steve goodnight at the stairs and waited until they heard his door close.

“You coming over?” She asked Javi quietly. He looked at her, all the tension and jealousy from the night bubbling up inside him. Suddenly he had the urge to fuck her in his bed. He wanted her in his space. He needed to claim her tonight. He shook his head. He couldn’t help but smirk as she slightly deflated in front of him at his refusal.

“You’re coming to my place tonight, querida,” he whispered huskily. She looked surprised. They had never gone to his apartment for their trysts before. She wondered why he wanted to all of a sudden.

“Ok, Javi,” she whispered. He unlocked the door and lead her inside. After securing the front door Javi ushered her into his bedroom.

“Clothes off,” he demanded. Ari quickly removed her clothing, not sure what the look in Javi’s eyes meant. All she knew was she wanted to obey his every command tonight. Once she was naked, Javi raked his eyes up and down her beautiful body.

“Hermosa,” he whispered huskily. Then in a deeper, more demanding tone, “On you back, on the bed. Now.” Ari scrambled to lay out in the middle of his bed. Javier smirked when he saw how eager she was to please. “So now you want to be a good girl and listen, huh?” Ari shivered at his tone. “You should have thought of that earlier tonight, querida. Could have saved yourself a lot of trouble.” He rummaged through his bedside drawer. “But I did promise you a proper punishment...and I’m a man of my word.” He emerged from the drawer with his handcuffs. He knelt on the bed next to her.

“Hands above your head,” he ordered. She quickly complied, excitement and desire pooling in her belly. He worked the cuffs onto her wrists and attached them to his headboard.

“I need a word, hermosa,” he told her, sitting back on his heels. “Something that you can say if you need me to stop.” Ari thought about it for a moment. Deciding on a word that would immediately give Javi pause.

“Narco,” she told him. He grinned, his dominant side temporarily sidelined.

“That will do it,” he laughed lightly. “You say that word and I stop immediately, you understand? If anything becomes too much...just let me know. I won’t be angry with you.” Ari nodded, and Javi’s face and demeanor shifted back to his dominating persona. “Perfect. Now, about that punishment.” He spread her legs. He shifted so he was settled between her thighs. He opted to keep his clothes on, another power play. She was completely bared to him, he was still fully clothed. Ari twitched at the delicious sinfulness of it.

Javi just sat there, on his knees, between her thighs. For the longest time he sat there and looked at her. His hands ran gently up and down her inner thighs as he stared at her pussy. Ari started to squirm under his gaze, desperate to have him touch her. He tutted quietly to her.

“Stay still, querida,” he warned. She immediately stilled. “Good girl.” Finally he moved down to lick a strip up her pussy. Ari let out a quiet moan, pleased to finally get attention exactly where she needed it. Javi dove in and ate her relentlessly. His nose nudged at her clit while his tongue laved against her opening. He stiffened his tongue and plunged it inside her quivering pussy.

Ari groaned at the sensations. Javier knew exactly how to eat a woman out. He thrust his tongue into her over and over. He brought his thumb to her clit and rubbed slow, firm circles. Ari felt her orgasm building.

“Fuck,” she moaned. “I’m so close, Javi.”

“Yeah?” Javi whispered against her, picking up the speed of his thumb.

“Mmm hmm,” Ari mewled. Just as she was about to hit her peak, Javi pulled away from her trembling body. “What are you doing?” Javi laughed at the expression on her face—eyes huge, mouth open in surprise.

“Only good girls get to come, querida,” he reminded her. “You were very bad today…calling me an old man…letting those men fawn all over you…you’ll come when you’ve fucking earned it.” Ari groaned.

“So this is my punishment?” She scowled at him. “Edging me? You think you have what it takes? This is gonna be torture for you too, Peña. You’ll never last.” Javi chuckled at her attempt to rile him up.

“Oh, no, cariño,” he cooed mockingly. “I am perfectly capable of controlling myself. I’ll have you begging before long.”

“In your dreams,” she challenged him.

“Watch your mouth, hermosa,” he warned, “or else I’ll jam my dick in there to keep you quiet.” Ari’s breath hitched, and her pussy clenched at this darker side of Javier. “Oh, you like that, huh?” Of course Javi had noticed her body’s reaction. “Such a filthy fucking girl.” He murmured, lowering his lips back down to her clit. “Have you calmed down enough, sweet girl? Are you ready for more?” Ari gritted her teeth and nodded. She knew she was in for a long night.

This time he focused his tongue and gorgeous lips on her clit and his fingers at her entrance. He slowly stroked along her lips, teasingly dipping the tips in as his tongue licked hot and wide across her bundle of nerves. She panted as her hands gripped the sheets beneath her tightly. She felt that string pulling tight once more. Javi sucked gently on her clit—his mustache tickling just right—and her whole body tensed up, ready to fall off the edge…when Javi pulled away again.

“Fuck!” She growled angrily. When he laughed, she wanted to kick him. He stroked her inner thighs, cooing soothing words to her, bringing her back down from the precipice. After a couple minutes he dove back in.

Javi made quick work of bringing her to the brink of another orgasm. She was so stimulated, it didn’t take much. She tried desperately to hide the signs of her impending pleasure. She figured if he didn’t know it was coming…well, maybe she could trick him into giving her the orgasm she so desperately needed. But, Javi knew her body better than she knew it herself. He knew exactly when to stop. Same as before, he pulled away just before she could come.

“Trying to trick me, hermosa?” Javi asked darkly.

“No,” she said with wide, innocent eyes. “I would never do that, sir.” Javi shivered. Ari smirked. While Javi knew her body and what got her going, Ari knew his just as well. She knew exactly how to push his buttons. “I promise, I’m your good girl, Agent Peña.” Javi growled and sprung up to rip off his clothes. Ari almost laughed at how fast he stripped naked. Before she could blink he was pressed between her thighs, his beautiful, thick cock pressing into her overstimulated body.

They moaned in unison, the feeling of their bodies coming together almost overwhelming. Javi set a strong, steady pace. Ari brought her thighs up to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. He glanced down at her face and saw her trying to hide a smirk. He shook his head in exasperation and pulled her thighs wide, pressing her knees to her chest.

“Trying to take control? Hmm?” He ground out between thrusts. “Think you’re in charge? You may be tough shit out there, hermosa,”—he nodded vaguely towards the outside of the apartment—“but here, in my fucking bed, I’m in charge. You understand that? Your pussy is mine.” He thrust deep. “Your orgasms are mine.” Another hard, deep thrust. He gripped her jaw and looked into her eyes. “You are mine.” Ari felt a thrill—that had nothing to do with the incredible way Javi thrust into her—shoot through her. She tried not to read too much into what he was saying…he was getting carried away…overwhelmed by the power and the pleasure…he didn’t have deeper feelings for her. She didn’t want to read too much into his words and actions…didn’t want to let herself hope.

“Understand?” Javi asked her gruffly, forcing her out of her own head.

“Yes, Javi,” she cried softly. “I’m yours, baby…always.” She whispered the last word, scared of what he would think. He leaned down and kissed her deeply.

Javi sped up his thrusts and rubbed her clit. She was achingly close, her walls clamping tightly around him. She would fall apart any second…just a couple more thrusts…and Javi stopped. Ari huffed a sigh of frustration. He kissed her temple and whispered sweet words in her ear, running his hands gently up and down her sides. He calmed her back down before starting it all over again. This time his thrusts were slow and deliberate.

He lay his body directly on top of hers, grinding his pelvic bone just right into her clit. She was completely surrounded by him. The scent of sandalwood, tobacco, and leather—combined with the musk of their lovemaking—swirled around her. She felt warm and full and overwhelmed. He was angled just right, and the slow, tortuous pace was making her climb to that peak all over again.

“Javi,” she whimpered.

“I’m here, querida,” he whispered against her jaw, where he had been peppering kisses. “You’re doing great, baby…such a good girl for me.” Ari preened under his praise, but she felt like she was losing her mind. She wanted to come so badly…but she still wasn’t desperate enough to beg. She didn’t want to give in and let Javi win. She wanted him to cave first.

She thrust her hips up and squeezed around his dick tightly. Javi groaned and picked up the pace. She moaned at the friction against her clit.

“You feel so good,” she murmured. “You always know how to fuck me just right, baby.” Javi squeezed his eyes shut. “Mmm…want to make you feel good, Javi. Want you to come all over my tits.” Javi groaned and crashed his mouth to hers. The kiss was hot and deep and needy. Javi pulled away and scowled down at her.

“I know what you’re doing, Ariana,” he scolded. “It won’t work. Now stop being a brat and take your punishment.” Ari frowned, angry she wasn’t winning this little game of his. He sped up and pounded into her relentlessly.

“Fuck!” Ari shouted. It was exactly what she needed to get to the finish line, but she knew Javi wouldn’t let her…not until she learned her lesson…not until she begged. She was frustrated, but dammit, she loved this side of him. He had yet to really let go in the bedroom and take full control. Ari always secretly craved domination in bed. She had to be so strong and tough and decisive all the time. It was nice to just let go, and let Javier be in charge for once. So, she let go…and decided to ride this out for however long he wanted to.

And ride it out she did…for hours. Javi fucked her for hours; he brought her to the edge of oblivion, only to yank her back before she could reach it—over, and over, and over again. Sometimes he would pull out and go down on her again. Other times he fucked her fast and rough, then slow and deep. She was a mess. So on edge and strung out, just dying to come. Her hands were going numb from being cuffed for so long, wrists rubbed raw from her movement. Finally she gave in.

“Javi,” she whispered brokenly, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “Please.” That one word made him pause.

“What was that, hermosa?” He asked, a smug look on his handsome face. How he managed to still look so fucking pleased when he was covered in sweat and literally gritting his teeth to keep from coming after hours of edging them both was a mystery to her.

“Please,” she whimpered.

“You can do better than that,” he chided with a quirk of his brow. Ari tossed her head back against the pillow in frustration. The fucker was really going to make her beg.

“Please, Javi,” she sobbed. “I’ve been good for you. Please, baby, I need to come.” Javi smiled and reached his hand up to cup her face. Then he gripped her jaw tightly, pulling her gaze to his.

“You have been good for me, cariño,” he cooed. Then his eyes and voice darkened. “Just remember this the next time you decide to be a brat.” He paused a moment and carefully considered his next words. “I didn’t like all Carrillo’s men fawning all over you tonight.” He swallowed thickly, obviously uncomfortable revealing something so vulnerable about himself.

“They don’t matter,” Ari assured him quietly. “I didn’t even see them. All I ever see is you, Javi.” Javi kissed her deeply. She thought he must have been satisfied with both her begging and her admission because he began thrusting again. Suddenly he pulled out and flipped her into her stomach. It was a bit awkward at first with her hands cuffed to the headboard, but she was able to adjust to a more comfortable position.

He positioned her on and knees, her upper body laying against the bed, and thrust back into her. He gripped her hips and pounded her into the mattress. He grabbed her shoulder for leverage to hit even deeper. His other hand reached around and rubbed her swollen clit.

“You can come, sweet girl,” he rasped. “But you have to come right now.” Ari was almost there—a sobbing, writhing mess so close to the edge. “Come now or you don’t come at all.” Javi growled and pinched her clit between his thick fingers. With that Ari exploded. Her vision went black, the air left her lungs, her ears started ringing. Her entire body tensed and then gushed, her cum shooting out of her and soaking Javi and the bed. She came so hard she pushed Javi out of her body. He choked on a moan at the sensation and quickly thrust back in. Ari shook, a tingling sensation shooting across her entire body. Her body slumped and everything went dark and fuzzy for several long moments.

“Hey,” she heard distantly. “Hermosa…Ari, are you alright? Baby, open your eyes.” She felt a hand light patting her face and she begrudgingly opened her eyes. Javi was bent over her, a worried look on his face. “There you are. Jesus, you scared me for a second.”

“Huh?” She mumbled.

“I think you blacked out, baby,” Javi said with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Ari said tiredly. “I think you’re right.” She yawned, and Javi got up to walk to the bathroom. She realized in the short time she had been out Javi had uncuffed her and turned her over onto her back. She felt his cum leaking out of her…so he must have finished just as she gave in to the intensity of her orgasm. Fuck…her face felt numb. Was that normal? She had never come that hard before. Her whole body felt like jello.

Javi came back in with a warm, wet cloth and some lotion. He cleaned up the mess between her legs and put some lotion on her wrists. He winced when he saw how red and raw they looked. She would definitely bruise.

“It’s ok,” she assured him. When he didn’t look convinced she continued. “I would have used the safe word if it was too much.” Javi looked into her eyes, searching for any sign that she was lying. He seemed satisfied and nodded. He tossed the cloth in the hamper and set the lotion on night stand.

Ari was exhausted. It had been a long fucking day, and the hours of passionate torture had drained her of any remaining energy she had. She yawned again.

“You need some sleep, querida,” Javi said quietly. He helped her up. He grabbed a large T-shirt out of his drawer and tenderly helped her put it on. He gathered up her clothes and put his arm around her waist. She rested her head on his chest as he led her to the front door. He walked her over into her apartment and got her into her bed. He tucked her in and kissed her gently on the mouth. Ari was half asleep, part of her brain wondering if she was dreaming all this.

“Good night, hermosa,” He whispered against her forehead, placing one more kiss there. “See you in the morning.”

“Mmm,” she murmured as she turned over and snuggled into her bed. “G’night, Javi.” She vaguely heard him leave and lock the door. She fell right to sleep and slept hard. She slept so deeply and woke up so refreshed the next morning, that it never crossed her mind how odd it was for Javi to bring her back to her apartment instead of just letting her fall asleep in his bed.

Chapter 10

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(Clone Wars) Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader: Here to Stay a Little Longer

Author’s Note: In this fic, reader is a jedi who volunteers to care for an educate younglings in the order. Just wanted to say I know a few teachers and caretakers, and I just wanted to say the amount of respect I have for people who dedicate their time to little ones whether it be for a job or because their your own little ones!

    “Good work today.” 

    There was no stopping the affectionate smile that bloomed on your face as the youngling chirped in response to your affirmation.  You could sense his happiness at the lesson being over for the day.  He wanted to take a nap.

   “Me too, Grogu,” you sighed.  “Me too.”  He waddled over to you, and you lifted him into your arms.  Another jedi would be coming to take him back to the nursery for rest. 

   “___________?” a voice asked.

   “Hm?” you turned to see an elderly female jedi at the doorway to the training room.  “Oh, jedi Lilanou.  You are here to take Grogu back to his quarters?”

   “Yes, indeed,” she said with a smile, outstretching her hands.  They were weathered but ever so gentle as you transferred the tired baby to them.  He waved at you, and you laughed and waved back.  “Grogu will see you later this week for another training session.”

   “I will be expecting him.”  You nodded.  Grogu wasn’t quite like the other younglings.  He was more developed mentally for one so small, and he was much older than the others.  This meant he started training, but only a little since he was still a baby.  As Lilanou carried him away, you felt sadness creep its way into your feelings.  No doubt your attachment to the young one went beyond what it should.  You felt that way about most of the younglings you volunteered to look after and train before they became padawans and were assigned to mentors.  It was hard to let go when that time came, but the need for jedi to step up and help the next generation of younglings drew you in again and again.

   With the absence of Grogu, your afternoon was free.  The rumble in your stomach told you it was time for a meal.  You released a sigh and stepped out of the empty room into the vast halls.  Jedi walked to and fro, some in pairs while others had their noses in datapads.

   The sound of children’s laughter weighed your steps until you stopped altogether.  It was a collective laugh as if it was one shared by an entire class.  You started back on your way again before it rang out once more.  It was indeed a class that occupied one of the nearest training rooms, and from where you stood outside the doorway, you could hear Yoda’s voice instructing.

   “I’ll just stop in for a minute,” you said, grinning.  “Lunch can wait.”  As you approached, Yoda paused the lesson to meet your gaze.  As he greeted you, the younglings that were all seated in a semi-circle turned their heads to look in your direction.  Their faces lit up in recognition.

   “Ah, _________, how nice it is to see you,” Yoda said.  “Younglings, say ‘hello.’”

   “Hello!” they chorused.

   “Hello everyone!” you gave a nod of greeting before turning your gaze back to Yoda.  “I was just wondering if I could sit in on class today?  And maybe help if you need any assistance?”  It felt like a silly question to ask.  He was Yoda.  He’d been training many generations of younglings since long before you were born.  Nonetheless, his features softened as he motioned with his hand for you to enter.

   “Needing a lesson to refresh your memory, are you?” he joked in a good-natured way.  You chuckled as you took a seat on the far right of the semi-circle.

   “Something like that.”

   “Good, your timing is.”  He nodded.  “Discussing the process of constructing lightsabers, we are.  Perhaps, share with the class your experience, you could.”

   “That’s right,” you mused.  “Many of you are nearing that time.  Oh, yes Ganodi?”

   The Rodian girl lowered her hand, galaxy eyes averted shyly for a moment.  “Was it hard to build your lightsaber?”

   “It was a challenge,” you admitted.  “But it wasn’t meant to be easy.”  When you noticed her nervous expression, you added, “I’m sure you will do well.”

   “I’m excited to build mine!”  Petro exclaimed.  “I can’t wait!”

   “All in good time,” Yoda told the enthusiastic youngling.  “Anyway, back to our lesson, we should get....”

- - - - - - 

   After the class had been dismissed by Yoda, some of the younglings stuck around to talk.  Yoda walked over to you.  “Thank you for your help today.  Warms my heart, it does, to see your compassion and willingness to nurture the next generation of jedi.”

   You smiled.  “It warms my heart to see them so eager to learn.”

   After he left, you found yourself in the middle of a game of tag with the younglings in the classroom.  Katooni was “it”, and the rest of the group scattered.  She was fast for a youngling!  You raced past Byph, and he got tagged instead.

   “Sorry, Byph!”

   You were so captivated by the game that you hadn’t noticed a new presence.  “I thought I’d find you here.”  You skidded to a stop, looking over to see Obi-Wan Kenobi standing at the doorway.  Your heart did flips at the sight of that smirk of his while he stood there with his arms folded across his chest.  He had left on a campaign weeks before, and his return to Coruscant was a surprise to you.

   You turned to the group, who didn’t seem to notice him.  “Give me one second, guys.”  They continued to run around, and you walked over to the jedi, out of breath.  “It’s good to see you.  How are things on the front?”

   “Well, we were successful,” he replied.  That smooth voice was like music to your ears.  As you listened to him describe the gist of the mission, your mind wandered to silly little things like his velvety hair that shone in the light or his soft blue eyes or the way his lip quirked when he spoke.  It was just so nice to see him, to be able to take it in that he was there.

   “Sounds like an interesting time.”

   “Oh, no.  Not interesting in the least,” he said sarcastically, the shine of amusement in his eyes.  “How have things been here?”

   “Same as ever.”  You smiled and nodded in the direction of the younglings playing their game.  “These ones keep me occupied.  It’s not fighting Separatist battle droids, but…”

   “It’s an important duty.  I can hardly think of a more noble endeavor,” he told you, eyes looking distant and warm as the younglings’ laughter carried.  “I myself hope to dedicate more time to the cause.  I haven’t been as involved as I’d like to be.”

   “Well, we could always use the help.  Besides, you have become a sort of legend around here.”

   Obi-Wan’s brow lifted curiously.  “Is that so?”

   “It is, and you have Anakin to thank for that.  He stops by every now and then and shares a story or two about his and your adventures on the battlefield.”

   “That sounds like Anakin,” he sighed.

   “He’s an inspiration to the younglings, as are you,” you paused.  “To me as well.”

   “Obi-Wan!”

  “Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan!”

   The group began to gather around the two of you, their eyes wide with admiration and curiosity.

   “Well hello there,” he said.  “I was beginning to think I’d gone unnoticed.”

   “Where’d you go? Did you fight Grievous?” Petro’s questions poured out quickly.

   “Was Anakin there?” Zatt asked, tipping his head to one side.  “He said he was going on a mission too.”

   “Alright, alright,” you laughed.  “Let’s not overwhelm him.”

   “I’ll tell you all about the mission another time,” Obi-Wan assured them.  “For now, you might want to run.”

   “What?  Why?”

   “Because it looks like Byph is still ‘it,’ and he’s sneaking up behind you.”

   “Ahhh!”  They burst into laughter and screams as they scattered once more, leaving you and Obi-Wan chuckling.  One of the smaller younglings fell down in front of him.  He simply took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet.

   “Careful, little one.”  His warning was tender, and you watched the scene with heart thumping.  Obi-Wan was always good with younglings.  His kindly nature and humility made him quite popular. 

   He’d make a good parent, you thought.  Realizing where your mind was taking you, you shook your head.  That was hardly appropriate for one to think about a fellow jedi.  Romantic feelings were normal, but these were driving you to imagine a life with him outside the order.  You imagined a loving man with whom you could have your own children with.  The way he was gazing at you made you feel embarrassed, as if he sensed your thoughts.

   “___________?”

   “Yeah?”

   “Are you hungry?”

   You glanced down at your stomach as it gave another rumble.  Ah, right.  You skipped out on lunch to join the youngling class.  How embarrassing he heard that!  “Uh yeah, I missed lunch.”

   “I’m rather hungry myself,” he said.  “Shall we go get something together?”

   You nodded, smiling.  “We shall.”  You looked at the younglings.  “I’ll see you all soon.”

   “Okay, bye ___________!”

   “Bye Obi-Wan!”

   They headed out the door, their chatter echoing down the hall.  You walked alongside Obi-Wan on your way to get something to eat.  He was always pleasant company.  He walked with his hands folded behind his back and his gaze occasionally resting on you.  You had longed to see him again, but when the moment was finally there, you weren’t quite sure what to say.  Finally, you thought of something.

   “Did you need me for something?”

   “Pardon?”

   “You said you might find me there with the younglings,” you said.  “Does that mean you were looking for me?” 

   He opened his mouth as if he had a clever response, but his voice came out in a subtle stutter before he found the words. “I thought I’d pay you a visit since I arrived back on Coruscant.  I merely...wanted to see you.”

   “Oh, I see.”

   “Is that a problem?” The question wasn’t irritated.  His eyes searched you with genuine concern.  He had made it known that he sought you out for no reason in particular other than his enjoyment of your company, and he didn’t want this knowledge to make you uncomfortable.

   “No, no, not at all.”  You shook your head.  “I’m glad you did.  I’m pleased to see you.  It was only a few weeks, but it felt like so long.”  You went silent after that statement, unsure if you crossed a line either.  You were supposed to be a jedi free from attachment, and the last thing you wanted was Obi-Wan Kenobi to think you were needy.

   “I know exactly what you mean,” he muttered in agreement.  His eyes went to the floor in a way that suggested he had something on his mind.  The implication that he may have missed you too made you want to hide your face shyly, but you remained nonchalant.

   “When do you leave Coruscant again?”

   “Not for some time, I hope.  Like I said, I’d like to be more involved with training the next generation for a while.”  He glanced your way, eyes crinkling as he smiled.  “But my apologies, that means you’ll have to see more of me.  I know how much of a burden I am.”

   “Indeed.”  You returned the smile.  “How terrible.”

   The warmth between you two was unmistakable during the playful banter.  Part of you was thrilled that he would be around, that you wouldn’t have to say “goodbye” for a while.  The other part was worried what it might bring upon both of you.  If the two of you spent more time together with the younglings, it would do you no good as far as dismissing the attachment you had to him.  And what of the Council?  Would they take notice?

   Obi-Wan sat across from you at one of the long dining tables, and those doubts one-by-one went out the viewport.  He spoke about his mission away and then listened as you told him about some of your adventures on Coruscant.  Some involved your travels outside the jedi walls while others were about your daily struggles and victories with the little ones.  You told him of a youngling still in the nursery that ran off without their robes that you had to chase down and dress.  Fortunately the nursing droids had proper security so the youngling didn’t leave the nursery.  Obi-Wan’ laughter rang out clear as a bell as he tipped his head back at the outrageous tale.  Something fluttered in your chest as he lost himself in the humor for a moment before taking a breath and sighing.

   “Well it seems I have much to look forward to,” he chuckled.  “I recall once you said you wished you had some war stories to share, but it seems you do now.”

   “Some days it is a battle,” you agreed.

   “Believe me, I know.”  He gazed at you then, that glint in his eyes as he smiled tenderly.  You found yourself unable to look away.  It was like a magnet pulling you to him, and if there weren’t a table separating you, you might have even leaned in for a kiss.  It was like electricity crackling between you, and you had to force yourself to glance down at your now-empty tray.  The time working with Obi-Wan again would be interesting.  Even after only a few hours together, you felt that same pull that you fought for years.  You wondered how long you could go without giving in.  You wondered if he felt it as strongly as you did.  By the look flashing in his eyes as you leaned in ever so slightly to scoot out of your seat, you figured he might.

   An interesting time indeed. 

[melanielocke]

Conceal don't Feel - Two

Love is an Open Door

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @alastair-appreciation-month @writeordie-4 @amchara

AO3

Previous chapter: One: Do You Wanna Build a Snowman

Next chapter: For the First Time in Forever (to be posted)

Cordelia had never been so disappointed in her entire life. She’d been promised a guest, someone closer to her and Alastair’s age, someone who could end her days of loneliness and be her friend. Father had told her about it himself on one of his better days, he’d invited someone of her generation to come help Alastair. She knew the guest would be there mainly for her brother, of course, but Alastair hated being around people and she was sure whoever the guest was would have plenty of time to spend with her instead. She’d longed for someone to end her loneliness for such a long time she had started fantasizing about the person who would be staying until she’d gotten some admittedly unrealistic expectations. Instead, Charles Fairchild had arrived.

He wasn’t as close to her age as had been promised. Instead, he was eight years older than her, which she guessed was technically her generation, but he found himself far too mature to spend time with silly little girls like her. Not to mention, of course, that he was here for Alastair, and Alastair alone. With Father sick so often and Mother filling in, Alastair needed someone to teach him how to be a king. Somehow, her brother tolerated Charles’ presence whereas he still told Cordelia to go away and leave him alone whenever she approached him. After a few weeks she learned Charles had a younger brother around Cordelia’s age, but of course he hadn’t been invited.

With a groan, she returned to her practice with cortana. It was all she had these days, all she cared about. Even if she was all alone and her brother had barely spoken to her in years, she had been gifted the family sword, both a great honor and responsibility. She wondered sometimes why Alastair had chosen to gift her cortana, as it was tradition the sword went to the heir to the throne.

‘I knew it was important to you,’ was all he’d said when she’d asked, but for Cordelia that wasn’t a satisfactory answer. Giving her a powerful sword that was rightfully his because he knew it was important to her implied he loved her, yet nothing else Alastair did or said showed he even cared about her a little bit. If he loved her, he would spend time with her, not hide in his room and yell at her to go away.

Nowadays, he would only ever spend times with Charles, because of course while Cordelia wasn’t good enough for him, Charles was everything. They deserved each other, Cordelia had decided. They were both boring and stupid and could only ever talk about politics. The only time Charles paid Cordelia any mind was when he told her a princess shouldn’t be eating so much chocolate and maybe she should try losing some weight. He had a point, princesses were supposed to be slim and small and Cordelia wasn’t, but he didn’t have to be so rude about it. She didn’t understand why Alastair followed Charles around like some lost puppy. He used to shut the world out, and it seemed like he’d opened the door, but right after Charles had entered it had shut down with full force once more.

She wished she could let it go, and forget about her brother, but she couldn’t. She still remembered the fun they used to have when they were little, how he’d looked out for her and helped her build the most amazing snowmen. It had all happened so sudden, one day they were playing in the snow together, the next he wouldn’t leave his room and refused to even speak to her. Perhaps there was an explanation, something that would make it all make sense. But then why was Charles the exception, and what did Alastair see in him?

***

When Charles arrived in Arendelle, Alastair redoubled his resolve to get this power under control, to never let it show. Letting Thomas see had been a mistake. He’d trusted Thomas, had cared for him, and now they would never see each other again and how could he be sure Thomas hadn’t shared his secret? He had no reason to assume Charles would even accept the way he was. He could never know.

‘The palace of Arendelle is beautiful,’ Charles said. ‘A different style from the palace of the southern isles. Not that that is still in use, it has been turned into a museum. A real shame.’

Charles made no effort to hide the disdain in his voice as he said the word museum.

‘Why?’ Alastair asked.

‘Because there’s no monarchy anymore,’ Charles said. ‘My mother was the Queen of the Southern Isles until two years ago. She ended the monarchy and was elected as president instead. She thought it unfitting for an elected leader to live in a grand palace, so she decided it should be a museum instead to preserve our country’s history.’

Alastair stared at Charles with wide eyes. ‘That’s a possibility? I could just end the monarchy and have elections for a leader? And whoever has good ideas on how to improve the country could just sign up?’

He imagined all sorts of people would be willing to give it a try, and Alastair had never wanted the throne anyway. He had no idea how he’d be king and meet with cabinet members and foreign officials and never show the ice that rested inside of him.

Charles chuckled, as if he’d just said something ridiculous.

‘Perhaps not,’ he said quietly, already feeling stupid.

‘Being a Crown Prince is an honor, Alastair, a great privilege. Who in their right mind would give that up? Why would you not want to be king?’

Alastair sighed. ‘I guess you’re right. It’s just a lot of responsibility, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.’

‘That’s alright. That’s why I’m here. I might not be a prince anymore, but I have a lot of experience being one and later I helped with my mother’s presidential campaign and presidency. I know how to run a country.’

His friendship with Charles might have been a bit rocky at first, but Alastair soon learnt to trust him more. It was a bit like with Thomas, when Charles was near Alastair felt calmer and could control the ice.

Charles was knowledgeable and took his time to educate Alastair on everything he thought was important for a future king. He was often willing to make time for Alastair, even when it was not convenient for him, and Alastair thought as long as Charles was here, everything was going to be alright.

‘What will you do, when you return to the southern isles?’ Alastair asked him one day.

‘Run for president myself,’ Charles said. ‘It’s not the same as being king, but there’s still much good I can do for the southern isles. My mother has done a good job, but I fear she is too sentimental. I can make my country strong again, that is all I ever wanted.

Don’t worry, I won’t be leaving anytime soon. You still need plenty of my help, and I think together we can set up some better trade routes, build an alliance and find new ways in which we can help each other. I think both Arendelle and the Southern Isles could benefit from a closer relationship.’

Alastair was intrigued. Alliances with foreign kingdoms were what he feared the most of being king. He wasn’t charming, too blunt and straight forward to flatter, but perhaps with Charles he could get started on a good alliance without those skills. ‘Of course. Whatever you need.’

***

Cordelia was beyond excited. Alastair had asked her to join him for a picnic on the palace grounds this afternoon. This would be her chance to get her brother back and a picnic was a decent start. Perhaps someday coming winter they could build a snowman again. Cordelia firmly believed you were never too old to build a snowman.

She picked out her nicest dress, eternally grateful it still fit as she was always growing out of her clothes, and went out to meet Alastair in the gardens. For once he wasn’t with Charles, which was nice because Cordelia did not want to talk about politics all afternoon. She had more important things to discuss.

‘I’m glad you came,’ Alastair said.

He was tense, Cordelia could tell. It was hard to read his moods with Alastair, he rarely showed any emotion, but she had learnt to recognize the slight tension in his shoulders, his stiff demeanor, as if he was forcing himself to speak. She wondered why he would be tense.

‘Of course I came,’ Cordelia said. ‘As far as I know you’re still my only brother.’

‘I’m sorry, for the past years,’ Alastair said. ‘I know you must have been very alone.’

Cordelia nodded. ‘Yes. I know you have to study and prepare for being king and all, but why can’t we at least open the gates every once in a while? Maybe invite some girls my age, or even Charles’ younger brother?’

She knew spending a lot of time with a boy her age would be considered inappropriate, but that was still preferable to keeping the company of the portraits on the wall. She had so little experience with social interaction she didn’t even know how to speak to someone her age, and Father expected her to get married when she was older. How was she supposed to do that when she never met anyone? There was no way she was marrying Charles.

‘I’m sorry,’ Alastair said quietly. ‘We can’t do that.’

‘Father could invite Charles,’ Cordelia protested. ‘Surely we can invite someone else. I still don’t have a lady in waiting.’

‘That’ll have to wait, Layla. I’m sorry. I wish it were different.’

Alastair had called her Layla since she was a little girl, after a girl in a story their mother used to tell them, and it was a bit of a weak spot of hers. Still, she was determined not to let it go, because nothing Alastair said made any sense.

‘But why?’ Cordelia asked. ‘What are you so afraid of?’

‘I’m not afraid of anything,’ Alastair bit at her.

There was that temper she remembered from his childhood. It was good to see he still felt anything at all, but Cordelia did not want to make him angry the first time she’d spoken to him in years. Perhaps she should be a little more tactful about this instead of forcing answers out of him. One thing she knew for sure though, there was something Alastair knew and she didn’t. Perhaps more than one thing, Alastair always seemed to know much more than he let on. It was infuriating.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said and she hoped he would believe her apology was sincere. ‘I just wish I could have friends too.’

‘Maybe when you’re older,’ Alastair said. ‘I’ll do what I can, alright? But no promises.’

Cordelia decided to accept that for now. ‘Your life must have been very boring too. I mean, you have company, but it’s Charles. That might actually be worse than being alone.’

Alastair rolled his eyes. ‘He’s not boring. He’s a politician, and a very good one. He knows everything there is about being king, even if he won’t be one himself anymore. It is very generous of him to come here and help me.’

Cordelia made a face. ‘I don’t like him. Most of the time he ignores me, which honestly is fine, but he also tells me I eat way too much chocolate and need to lose weight.’

Her weight had become a bit of an insecurity lately. She was at the end of her growth spurt and quite tall, which she liked, she was even taller than Alastair, but while she’d stopped growing in length, she kept getting wider and had to throw out dresses all the time. Her mother had told her this was normal for girls her age, but Cordelia was pretty sure most girls her age were much thinner than she was, and princesses were expected to be small and skinny.

If Charles was to be believed, it was because of all the sweets she ate, and reminding her of it was hurtful, not to mention he was always rude and condescending about it, as if she couldn’t possibly know what was good for her.

‘I’m sorry, I’ll ask him not to bother you,’ Alastair promised. ‘But I really need him here, alright? I will be king one day, and I desperately need his help.’

Cordelia snorted. ‘Maybe if you wanted to learn how to be a better king, you could actually go outside and spend time with the people of Arendelle instead of hiding here in the castle.’

‘That’s not possible,’ Alastair said stiffly.

He was worried. Cordelia couldn’t tell what it was, but she was determined to find out.

‘Are you scared to leave the palace?’ Cordelia asked. ‘I read a book some time back about someone who was scared to leave their house. It was very intriguing.’

‘I’m not scared, Cordelia,’ Alastair hissed, but something about his stiff mannerism revealed otherwise.

She nodded. ‘Alright, so you have a fear of going outside like that character in the book. Maybe there’s a doctor somewhere who can help you overcome your fear since I have no idea how it’s done and I imagine dragging you outside might make it worse. But that’s alright, I could go out and into the city for you and report back what I learn. We could be a great team, like we used to be.’

‘No, Cordelia, that’s not… I’m not afraid.’ He stopped abruptly, twisting his fingers together.

Alastair was wearing a pair of fancy black gloves. Now that she noticed, he always wore gloves. Perhaps if he was scared of going outside, he was also scared of dirt? The palace was cleaned, of course, but some rooms weren’t cleaned as often because of the limited staff and would collect dust. She did remember her brother had always been rather neat, that had to be it.

‘We’re done here,’ Alastair said. ‘Goodbye.’

He stood up and walked away. They hadn’t even eaten anything yet. Cordelia ran after him.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Back inside. I changed my mind, I don’t want to have a picnic with you.’

Cordelia didn’t understand. He’d invited her, he’d wanted to spend time with her. Had she done something wrong to change his mind? It didn’t make any sense, she might have been a little pushy, but he had to understand it was for his own good, right?

‘Why? Am I suddenly not good enough for you anymore?’ Cordelia yelled, grabbing his shoulder.

‘Leave me alone, Cordelia,’ Alastair hissed. ‘I mean it.’

Cordelia was taken back by the sudden vehemence in his voice.

‘Fine, go back inside to stupid Charles and his stupid lessons!’ she yelled after him as he walked inside.

He didn’t look back, not even once. As if she was nothing. Great, that was her one chance to win back her brother, to improve her situation here somewhat. Now she had no idea what to do.

She returned to the picnic site and collapsed onto the blanket she’d laid out for the two of them. She stuffed some chocolate into her mouth. Chocolate she’d specifically requested for Alastair, because she knew he liked anything sweet, and loved chocolate most of all. Cordelia did too, curse stupid Charles and his stupid comments about her eating habits. She was the princess, she could eat as much chocolate as she wanted. She needed some way to cope with being alone all the time and if Charles thought it was bad for her maybe he should go find her a friend. As it was, she returned to days of loneliness and practicing with cortana. What else was she supposed to do?

***

‘Your father didn’t show up to our meeting again,’ Charles said. ‘We were supposed to discuss your progress weekly, but most of the time he isn’t there. Do you know if he’s alright?’

‘He’s just sick,’ Alastair said, terrified Charles would find out about his father’s drinking. ‘No one knows what’s wrong with him, but it’s been getting worse. Mother has taken over most of his tasks so he can rest. Thanks to you, I can start helping out too. I’ve been working on my correspondence, and I was wondering if you could double check my letter to the Duke of Weselton?’

Charles nodded. ‘I’ll look at your letter. I am sorry to hear about your father’s illness, Alastair, I know it’s been hard on you. How’s your sister under all this?’

Alastair sighed. A couple of months ago, he’d thought he was making progress. Around Charles he felt so much better, he felt as if the ice wasn’t even there unless he called for it. He had thought maybe he could give his sister another chance and he’d invited her to a picnic. If everything had gone well and he’d felt in control around her, he could have told her the truth there, and show her what he was capable of. But when he’d met with Cordelia, everything came back in full force and he’d have to fight with every bit of his willpower to repress his fear and keep the ice inside of him. Cordelia was still mad about his sudden departure, but he’d had no other choice if he wanted to keep her safe. When he’d gotten back to his bedroom, he’d lost control and caused a snowstorm. While he thought his control had improved since Charles had come, the size of any outburst that slipped through had grown.

He was lucky Cordelia hadn’t seen it and at least now that Father was drunk all the time, he wouldn’t notice and put Alastair in chains. He knew it was all his fault though, his father wouldn’t have started drinking if it weren’t for him.

‘I think it’s difficult for her,’ Alastair said. ‘She mentioned you made some comments about her eating habits the other day. I know you mean well, but she doesn’t like it.’

‘I’m just concerned for her. It’s unhealthy to eat so much chocolate,’ Charles insisted. ‘She’ll thank me when she doesn’t have to throw out another of her custom made gowns.’

Alastair didn’t think it was fair to shame her for growing out of clothes when he did the same. He’d started his growth spurt lately and most of his suits had become too short. They weren’t thrown away either, they were sold second hand, as were Cordelia’s old gowns.

‘I think she’s insecure about how she looks,’ Alastair said. ‘And she has plenty to worry about, I don’t think she should be worrying about her weight on top of that. Your comments aren’t helping her.’

He didn’t understand why his control was so much worse around Cordelia. A long time ago, he’d hurt her, and he was terrified it would happen again. Perhaps that was different with Charles. With Charles he could not feel, like he was supposed to.

The problem, of course, was that with Charles he did feel. Just like he had with Thomas. It had not appeared as fast as it had with Thomas, but it was so much stronger now that he’d gotten to know Charles, had spent nearly a year with him.

He wanted Charles. Loved him, even. Alastair didn’t understand why he felt this way. Years ago, he’d met his cousin Jem who’d told him how he loved both Will and Tessa romantically. Alastair couldn’t imagine loving more than one person at the same time, nor could he imagine loving a woman, but perhaps some men longed for the love of other men instead of women.

Perhaps being in love was what calmed his moods, as long as he wasn’t scared. Right now, he wasn’t, not yet. He knew it was unlikely Charles felt the same way. That was alright, because he still wanted to be near him and then everything would be fine.

‘You know, I always found it unusual how empty this castle is,’ Charles said one day. ‘No one else ever stays, your parents always travel to meet foreign leaders and never invite anyone over. There aren’t half as many cleaners and servants as there were in my old palace.’

‘We minimized the staff,’ Alastair said. ‘It seems wasteful to spend money on staff when that could be spent on improving the kingdom.’

‘You don’t even have friends,’ Charles said. ‘No other noblemen visit, ever. You don’t have any companions, nor a page. You sleep alone. It’s odd.’

Alastair frowned. ‘How is it odd that I sleep alone?’

‘When I was still a prince, I had a page. A boy around my age, who shared my bed at night. It was normal at home, for noblemen and women to have a page or lady in waiting share their bed. A good way to make sure your virtue remains intact and you do not share your bed with a woman you are not married to.’

Alastair wasn’t sure that would be effective. Who was to say nothing improper happened between the nobleman and the person who shared their bed?

‘There’s no one here I could lose my virtue to,’ Alastair said. ‘But I know what you mean, my mother does share her bed with Risa, her lady in waiting. My father doesn’t though, he sleeps alone.’

No one could find out he was a drunk. No one would believe in him as a king anymore, and therefore it was up to Alastair to keep anyone from finding out, just like he had to keep everyone from finding out about the ice inside of him.

‘I imagine you don’t have a page anymore at home?’ Alastair asked.

‘We had a fall out shortly before my mother gave up the crown,’ Charles said in a tone that indicated he did not want to talk about it.

Charles did not bring the topic up again for some time, not until he was complaining about his younger brother one day.

‘He’s been campaigning for the right for men to love other men,’ Charles said with a sigh. ‘And for women to love women. Here I was thinking he’d never give up on being silly and going out partying, but this is worse.’

Alastair tilted his head. ‘Why? Is he not fighting for a good cause?’

‘He will make everything much harder for me, for our family,’ Charles said. ‘People are shunning him, of course. They’re wondering, why is he campaigning for this, what does it mean about him? And my brother does not have the good sense to hide he likes both men and women.’

So Charles’ brother was like his cousin Jem, then? Alastair had not met Matthew Fairchild, but it was difficult to hear Charles talk like this. He felt a familiar tingling in his fingers, a warning he might lose control. Something he had not yet felt around Charles.

‘That is very brave of him,’ Alastair said.

‘I prefer to think of it as foolish,’ Charles said. ‘The people won’t accept him, he won’t change a thing. He’ll just make everything harder for himself, and for me. People will watch us more closely. No one batted an eye when Daniel, my former page, shared my bed for years.’

Alastair gasped. ‘You mean to say you love men?’

‘Unfortunately I do. It’s not easy for someone like me. I have to keep it a secret, or I risk losing everything. No one would vote for a man like me to be president. But with the proper precautions, I’ve been quite successful at hiding my affections and desires while still indulging in them. I wish my brother understood that.’

Alastair put his hand on Charles’ and felt the tingling fade. It wasn’t gone, not entirely, but he wouldn’t lose control. ‘Does your brother know about you?’

‘No. I never wanted him to. You’re the first person I’ve told after Daniel, I know I can trust you to keep my secret.’

Alastair felt special to be entrusted with such a secret, and could it mean Charles returned his feelings? Had Charles told him because he hoped Alastair might want to be with him?

‘When I’m king, I will do what your brother has been campaigning for, I will change the laws and allow two men or two women to be together,’ Alastair promised. ‘Get married, even.’

Charles waved his hand dismissively. ‘Don’t be silly, Alastair.’

His heart sank, the tingling increased. He had to tell Charles about his affections, or else everything would become snow and ice.

‘But I’m like you,’ Alastair said. ‘I like men. And I don’t want to hide forever. What’s even the point in being king if I can’t change such things?’

‘They’ll cast you out, Alastair,’ Charles said. ‘Don’t waste your birthright on something the people will never accept. Best to keep your affections a secret. You’re a prince, you can pick any boy you like to be your page or companion and share your bed. No one would suspect a thing.’

Charles put his hand on Alastair’s shoulder, a bit too long for it to be called friendly, right?

‘What about you?’ Alastair asked. ‘I feel choosing a page to be my love would be unfair. Like, would he even get a say in that? It wouldn’t be like that with you.’

Charles smiled and cupped his cheek with his hand. It was smooth, the hand of someone who had not done manual labor. ‘You’re in love with me, aren’t you?’ he said, his voice gentle.

Alastair rubbed his hands together, forcing the tingling to stop. He felt frost underneath his gloves, but it was still hidden. Conceal, don’t feel.

‘Yes,’ he whispered.

‘I suspected as much,’ Charles said. ‘I like you too, Alastair. You’re smart and beautiful, and you will be a great king someday. But this has to be a secret. You understand that, don’t you? I will be with you, but only as long as you can keep your affections concealed.’

Alastair nodded. ‘Of course.’

Then Charles kissed him, and it was like fire, a sudden heat that melted his frozen heart, that stopped the tingling in his fingers, that calmed the storm inside of him. Perhaps love was the answer after all.

Alastair and Charles explored much more than just kissing together. Charles came to share his bed, claiming it was improper how Alastair slept alone all night. No one suspected a thing, but then of course, there was no one who could suspect. It was the first time in years where Alastair felt he might be happy. Even if he was still too dangerous to be around his sister. He tried once more. No promises this time, he just sought her out in her room to see if they could talk. The storm returned almost immediately and Alastair realized his sister would never be safe if he went near her. The only one he could be around was Charles.

It was amazing at first. Long nights together, Charles touching him, making love to him. He’d never known being touched by someone could feel so good, nor that it would melt the ice inside his heart. Charles knew exactly what he was doing and what he wanted, and Alastair was happy to oblige.

It was wonderful outside of the bedroom too. He loved how Charles would gently touch his shoulder, his wrist as he guided him through their lessons. But it didn’t take long for the secrecy of it all to start to weigh on him. Charles’ younger brother had fled farther south for his own safety, confirming Charles’ beliefs it was better to keep their love a secret. Alastair was scared the same might happen to him, but what could possibly be worse than people finding out he was a monster with ice in his heart?

Perhaps it would be better to leave, to flee into the woods and snow touched mountains and make his home there. The cold didn’t bother him, he would survive. But Charles could not come with him there, and so he stayed. Even while Charles mocked his ideas, told him he was still too young to understand what it was to rule a kingdom and treated him like was a child despite being old enough to be Charles’ lover.

Once he’d been in control around Charles, but not anymore. He wasn’t sure why it had gotten worse, why he was so scared Charles would leave him, that he wasn’t good enough anymore. He redoubled his resolve, made sure to read everything Charles asked him to, be everything his lover needed him to be. Charles was all he had, he didn’t think he could survive being abandoned. They stayed like this for several years. Alastair never took his gloves, not even when they had sex, and never explained why. Charles thought it was odd, but had come to accept it.

Even when he lost control, the gloves kept it in for a little longer, offered a bit of protection, and the time to get away before the storm began. Whenever he didn’t trust himself anymore, he went to his own private bathroom, a place even Charles wasn’t allowed to enter. Now that Charles shared his bed, his bedroom wasn’t a safe place to lose control anymore and he couldn’t exactly ask Charles to leave. So instead, this bathroom had frozen several times over, and whenever he was going to lose control he just told Charles he needed to use the bathroom. At this point, all the pipes had broken, so nothing could be used, but everything had been cut off from the water network long ago and his outbursts didn’t affect the other bathrooms. Charles had not uncovered his secret, and although it was difficult to keep it from him, it was for the best.

***

Cordelia took her father’s hand. ‘Where are you going? Are you sure you’re well enough to travel?’

‘I’m feeling much better, Cordelia dear,’ he said with a smile. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back before you know it.’

Cordelia wasn’t sure where exactly her parents would be traveling. It wasn’t the first time he left, of course, to meet with foreign nobles, but this time he would be going on a much longer journey, and it had been a while since he’d traveled anywhere. He’d been too sick and Mother had written letters to keep up relations instead.

‘Can’t I come with you?’ Cordelia asked.

‘Not this time,’ her father said. ‘But I promise on my next journey you can come with me. It’s almost time for you to be presented to the world. But this is something I have to do myself, I’m afraid.’

The idea of being presented to the world sounded good, but perhaps that would be a bit much all at once. Perhaps it would be nicer to start with a smaller group of people who could be her friends.

‘What if the people won’t like me?’ Cordelia asked.

‘Of course they will. You are beautiful, compassionate and nurturing, what’s not to like?’

Cordelia could always count on her father to tell her she was beautiful, even if not long ago she’d had to throw out nearly all of her gowns because she’d gained too much weight to fit into them.

‘I’ll still be here, azizam,’ her mother said, which surprised her.

‘Oh, I thought you were going too,’ Cordelia said.

‘I was, but Alastair insisted he was not ready to take over while I was gone and needed me to stay,’ her mother explained. ‘I know that’s not true and Alastair is more than ready, but I thought staying would put his mind at ease.’

Cordelia supposed that should make her less lonely, but her mother spent all her time on filling in for her father and she wasn’t sure where that left her. She knew everyone was keeping something from her, but she couldn’t figure out what and it was frustrating. She’d tried asking her father, who had told her not to worry, that everything would be alright in the end. Then she’d asked her mother, who’d told her that her brother was going through a difficult time, without offering any explanation. Apparently, boys his age often went through times like this, except in Alastair’s case that had been years now. Not that Cordelia knew any other boys Alastair’s age to compare his behavior to, but that was hardly her fault.

It turned out her father wasn’t back before she knew it. It took months to even get word from him. Of course, it was a long journey by ship and it made sense they did not hear anything at first, but after a couple of months Cordelia began to worry. They should have heard something by now, what could have become of him?

‘He’ll be alright, Cordelia,’ her mother had said. ‘We’ll hear from him soon enough. He must have decided to stay longer than intended and it would take time for a letter to reach us.’

But Cordelia could tell her mother was worried too, more so with every passing day during which they did not hear from Elias. Several months after he’d first left, a messenger came.

‘I am terribly sorry to bring you this news, Your Majesty,’ the messenger said, addressing her mother. ‘The King’s ship went down in the southern seas. There were no survivors.’

Cordelia had been in shock at first. Then she’d burst into tears. Mother had cried too, although a bit more concealed. Alastair though, had not shown a thing. He’d taken the news quietly, asked a few questions, and then retreated to his room. As if he didn’t feel a thing, as if he didn’t care.

The funeral was a quiet ceremony, and Alastair didn’t attend. She had been forced to ask Charles where he was and why he hadn’t come to his own father’s funeral. Charles didn’t know the answer either, said something about Alastair being upset and indisposed, but she could tell it didn’t make sense to him either.

Determined not to let him slip away from her like he always did, she went to his room after the funeral, knocking on the door. No response. When she was younger, Alastair would yell at her to go away, he would get angry that she had the nerve to bother him. As awful as that was, his silence was worse.

‘Please, Alastair,’ she said. ‘I know you’re in there. I don’t know why you didn’t come to the funeral, and maybe it was just too hard… But people asked about you, where you’ve been. And I want to be there for you. Just let me in, and we can talk about.’

‘Leave me alone, Cordelia!’ she heard from the other side of the door. He didn’t open it. ‘I don’t care Father is dead, that’s why I didn’t go the funeral. You shouldn’t either.’

It was not the answer she’d expected, although it wasn’t the first time it had seemed like Alastair did not love Father. Sometimes she wondered if Alastair could feel anything at all. She guessed not. There was ice inside his heart, and Cordelia did not know how to reach him anymore. Perhaps it didn’t matter.

With Father gone, her mother was Queen-Regent for now, taking on all of Father’s duties with some help from Alastair here and there until his coronation. Her mother was pregnant, and Cordelia didn’t think it would be good for her to spend so much time working while expecting a child. At least the pregnancy meant that once the baby was here, she would have someone to play with.

In four months, Alastair would turn twenty one and would be crowned king. He only ever spent time preparing for his coronation and his reign, Charles always hovering around him. It was impossible to catch him alone.

Of course, a coronation brought opportunities. Alastair couldn’t be crowned in a small, private ceremony, people from all over the country and even beyond would be invited. Cordelia would finally have a chance to meet actual real life people.

***

Alastair did not attend his father’s funeral. He’d expected knowing his father was gone would bring relief. No more hiding the empty bottles, no more covering up his sickness. No risk Cordelia would find out. Most of all, no risk Father would decide he was too dangerous and would chain him in the dungeons. He had never forgotten that day and even now he still had nightmares. Father had always been cruel to him, and he thought his death would set Alastair free. Instead, he felt empty, he felt a horrible guilt for hating a man who was now dead. He felt the snow and ice tingling against his fingers, seeking release. He pushed it back down with all he had. Conceal, don’t feel, that was what his father had taught him. No emotion, push it all down. Alright then, he would not feel. He would not mourn Father, would not care that he was gone. He would not attend the funeral and pay his respects, it was too dangerous anyway, and Father did not deserve that.

He knew people would ask why, where he’d been, and he made something up about being too sick and overcome with grief to attend. It was a lie. Even without the risk of exposing his ice, he would not have wanted to attend. He hated his father, and he couldn’t bear to listen to people speak on what a great king he’d been. Worse, what a great father he’d been. And there was no one he could talk to. Charles didn’t know what Father was really like, he believed in the lie of his illness. Cordelia was the same, worse even, for she adored Father, she always had. He’d considered telling her the truth, but that would be selfish. It would break her heart, and for what? And Mother had loved Father. Now that he was gone, she wanted to remember the good parts. She was having another baby, and was devastated the baby would never meet his father. Lucky child, he thought. That almost sounded like he resented the baby for getting the safe and carefree childhood he had never had, but that wasn’t true. He was almost glad Father was gone for their sake, and he hoped the baby would grow up happy and loved and protected, even if Alastair could provide none of that himself. It was too dangerous and he would never forgive himself if anything happened to the baby because of him.

***

‘Alastair, are you in there?’

No response. Sona had gotten used to that at this point. She had grown more worried every day. Alastair was to be king in a couple of months, but he had barely left his private quarters since Elias’ death. The only person he spoke to was Charles, and even then Charles had confided in her that he felt Alastair pull away from him. That he wasn’t sure Alastair was ready to be king.

She’d thought, perhaps, as his mother she could reach him. Charles didn’t know about the ice despite them being very close. But with her and Cordelia, all Alastair did was push them away.

He had seemed happy, at least, when she’d told him of her pregnancy, excited to meet the new baby. Mostly, he’d been terrified though and Sona thought perhaps Alastair was scared he’d hurt the baby. She didn’t know what to do anymore. She had to protect her baby, of course, but Alastair was her child too and she didn’t know how to reach him.

Sona knocked on the bedroom door once more. He couldn’t hide in there forever. It was Charles who opened, wearing a dressing robe. Sona knew Charles had been sleeping in Alastair’s bedroom for the past years. It was a way, apparently, to make sure Alastair’s virtue was intact for marriage. Not that Alastair had shown any interest in getting married and with his ice, Sona feared it was too dangerous. She wasn’t sure how Alastair had managed to keep his ice from Charles while sharing a bed, but that was impressive, right?

It pained her, she wanted nothing more than for Alastair to be happy, but she didn’t know how. She’d considered going back to Tessa, had asked Elias to reconsider, but he’d refused. ‘Alastair belongs here,’ Elias used to say. ‘That witch will only take him away from us.’

And now he was to be crowned king and it was too late. At least Charles had been good for him, right? Sona had noticed the way Alastair lit up around Charles, the way he seemed so eager to please him.

‘Your Majesty,’ Charles addressed her. ‘If I knew you were coming, I would have dressed for the occasion.’

‘I am sorry,’ Sona said. ‘Did I wake you? I didn’t realize you tucked in early, I’ve always been a late sleeper myself. I was just looking for Alastair, is he here?’

‘No, he must have left when I was asleep. Usually he goes to the bathroom, his own private one. Even I am not allowed in there. He’s very attached to his privacy.’

Sona knew about the bathroom, the place he went to when he lost control. It was good for him to have such a place right? Somewhere it didn’t matter if the ice became too much for him, because no one would get hurt.

Sona forced a smile. ‘Thank you Charles. I think I’ll look for him there.’

‘I don’t think he’d like that.’

‘He’s my son, and I am worried about him.’

‘He’s been showing progress in his lessons lately,’ Charles said. ‘I do not think you have to worry.’

Sona just nodded, and closed the door. Charles was smart, responsible, and he knew politics, but sometimes she felt he didn’t know Alastair, didn’t understand him. Risa hated Charles, acted as if he’d stolen Alastair away from them, but Sona felt that was a bit too simplistic. It was a difficult situation for everyone, and they were all doing the best they could. Alastair had chosen to spend his time around Charles, and if that was what made him feel better, who was she to judge?

Sona knocked on the bathroom door. No response.

‘Alastair, I’m coming in!’ she called.

She didn’t like invading his privacy, but at least he’d be forced to acknowledge he was in there if he wanted to stop her. He didn’t say anything. Perhaps he wasn’t in the bathroom after all, but it couldn’t hurt to check.

She pulled on the door handle. It wouldn’t budge. Had Alastair locked himself in there? When she pulled a little harder, it broke open and Sona realized why she’d been unable to open the door. It was frozen. Everything in the bathroom was frozen, about half a meter of snow lying on the floor. It was a good thing the door opened to the outside, or she would not have gotten it open at all.

Alastair was lying on the snow, covered in a thin summer blanket. The cold had never bothered him, but he had always liked to hold a blanket when he slept. When he was little, he would sleep with a thin summer blanket in the coldest days of winter, perfectly content.

Should she wake him? He seemed peaceful, at least, now that he was asleep. But he had lost control in here before falling asleep, and she wanted to know what had happened. He hadn’t responded well to his father’s death, and she knew Elias and Alastair had never had the best relationship, but instead of grieving with her and Cordelia, he’d shut them out even more. Sona didn’t think he was alright.

Before she could make a decision, Alastair opened his eyes and pushed himself into a sitting position. Sona wrapped her arms around herself, it was freezing cold in here. That couldn’t be good for the baby, but she was determined to talk to her son.

‘What happened, azizam?’ she asked.

‘I’m sorry, maman,’ he said. ‘I lost control.’

‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘What happened?’

‘I was with Charles,’ he said. ‘He told me he’d been writing with the Duke of Weselton.’

Sona frowned. ‘What’s wrong with that? He’s one of our closest trading partners. Charles has not sabotaged our relationship with Weselton, has he?’

‘No, not like that. You see, the Duke has a daughter around my age and no other heir, and Charles wants to marry her. She will be here for the coronation, and Charles intends to propose there. He thinks the Duke is a powerful ally for him as well as for us. And the laws in Weselton are pretty backward, so if the Duke dies his daughter’s husband will inherit the title, the lands, everything.’

Sona knew Charles liked power, of course. Risa hated him for it, thought he couldn’t be trusted, but Sona couldn’t help but see that even if Charles was a little too power hungry for his own good, Alastair adored him. But if he took the title and became Duke of Weselton, why would that upset Alastair so much? Wouldn’t he be happy for his friend?

‘What does any of that have to do with you?’

Alastair sighed. ‘I know, it’s stupid. But he’ll leave me alone if he marries her. He’d go live in Weselton in the Duke’s palace. He cannot stay here anymore. He’s all I have, I couldn’t bear it if he left.’

Sona took his hand. It was ice cold. ‘You always knew he would return home someday, right? Charles was here to teach you and prepare you, and he has done that. You are ready to be king, joon-am. I know controlling the ice is hard, but you’re smart and compassionate and you will do fine if he’s not there.’

Secretly Sona thought perhaps Alastair would do even better without Charles there. She knew Alastair was kinder, and she feared perhaps it came from a place of self loathing but Alastair was not the kind of king who’d put his own needs before anyone else’s.

Alastair nodded weakly. ‘But I’d be all alone. When Charles and I first became friends, it was the first time I could control myself. As long as it was going well, I mean. I did sometimes lose control when he was upset with me, but he never saw. I don’t know what I’ll do when he’s gone.’

Alastair was crying. The tears froze into snowflakes before they even reached his cheeks. Watching her son cry had always been one of the strangest thing, as if he started snowing. It was heartbreaking to watch, and Sona wished she could hug him, but she knew Alastair wouldn’t let her. He was far too scared he’d hurt the baby.

‘You’re going to be alright,’ Sona said. ‘You’re lonely, I know that. Cordelia is too. But the coronation offers opportunities. Perhaps you’ll meet someone else who helps calm your moods and your ice. You could invite someone to stay, if you want, open the gates.’

Alastair shook his head. ‘It’s too dangerous. Charles is the only one I can trust. I tried, maman. I tried with Cordelia, but every time I go near her I am so scared I’ll hurt her and then the ice takes over.’

‘Perhaps we should return to Tessa,’ Sona suggested.

‘No. The coronation is too close. This curse, it can’t be controlled. Best to be alone, and do what’s right for Arendelle.’

Sona guessed if Alastair wouldn’t return to the village, she’d try to send an invitation for the coronation. Perhaps Tessa could come here and help figure out why Alastair couldn’t control the ice. It was the least she could do for her son.

[raleighcarrera]

outpoint

foreign affairs | m!blaine hayes x mc (kennedy monroe)

a cut scene from chapter 4; after dionne’s party, blaine and kennedy work on their project a little bit and then not at all.

catch up: knockout (E) / on the ropes (T)

tagging: @pixeljazzy ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixelsandkink ; @writinghereandthere ; @choicesarehard ; @natesewell ; @flyawayboo ; @withbeautyandrage ; @blainehellyes

~3.3k words | T

it would be easier not to be seen together if not for the fact that they’re no where near done with their project. in fact, they’ve barely even started.

there’s also the added complication of their less-than-platonic relationship; they’re far from just classmates, or even friends. 

everything feels like it’s gotten out of control so quickly.

but he hadn’t planned for this. he’d agreed to go to vancross because it was that or the campaign trail; when he’d first arrived on campus, blaine had expected to coast through his classes, party until he forgot how pissed off at his parents he was and wait out the boring political drama unfolding back home with a few more years of school.

he hadn’t expected her. 

to their credit, his father’s advisors had done their best to warn him. still, he’d slept through so many briefings before packing up and heading out that he lost count -- going to vancross was supposed to be a reprieve from being blaine hayes, a chance to get out from under his parents’ noses. the first daughter of rutherland was a nonissue, hardly part of the equation at all.

...then he’d met her, and she’d called him a jackass with that cute little challenging sparkle in her eyes, and a part of him that had long since been quiet slowly stirred awake again.

and now he’s here: playing it so cool that kennedy is clearly starting to doubt whether he even likes her at all, fidgety and tense where she’s doing her very best to pretend to be engrossed in her textbook, sitting right beside him on the couch in her suite. 

her bodyguard is definitely glaring at him, too. 

blaine looks away, clearing his throat and nudging kennedy with his shoulder. “hey,” he murmurs, voice purposefully low, “i think i found something.”

it’s only when she blinks at him curiously that he realizes he has absolutely nothing at all to offer her and only wanted an excuse to break the silence between them. he points to a random passage in the book in his lap. “we can use this for our argument.”

kennedy looks down at the section he’s indicated and then stares back at him as though he’s one of the dumbest people she’s ever had the displeasure of talking to. rather than wilt under the disappointment in her eyes, he only smiles charmingly back at her, until she heaves a sigh and says, “maybe you should just work on our citations.” 

god, no. anything but that. panicked, he grabs for the book she’s holding before she can retreat silently into its pages, burying her nose in the spine and refusing to look at him like she has been for the last hour. “look,” he starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips. the sudden spike of nervousness that flares up within him is... new, to say the least. he needs a plan. “can we talk privately for a minute?”

she looks past him, quirking an eyebrow at her bodyguard. there’s a beat or two of silent communication between them that makes him feel uneasy and a sharp twist of her mouth before he hears the front door open and shut, and then they’re alone.

blaine exhales, jumping to his feet. “okay -- come on.” 

he crosses the room without waiting for a response from her, prying open one of the windows in her kitchen. his head leans out to judge the distance to the cobblestones beneath them; it’ll be a bit of a jump, but he’s had worse. when he looks back at kennedy, she’s still blinking at him owlishly. “uh, what are you doing?”

“we’re ditching your bodyguard,” he grins, more confidently than he feels. it is kind of funny how she’s looking at him, like he just suggested a bank heist. “come on. he’ll be back any second.”

kennedy glances at the front door, then rushes over to meet him at the window. “but -- why -- we’re supposed to be working on our project.”

he arches his eyebrows at her, unimpressed. “and we’re obviously not making any headway. plus, i can tell you’re distracted, and since i’m pretty sure that’s my fault... i want to fix it.” well, those are words he’s almost definitely never said to anyone before. to cover up his own surprise at himself, and how uncomfortably true they ring, he widens his grin and asks, “don’t you trust me?”

as soon as she leans around him to peer down at the length of the drop, he knows he’s won. “not enough to go first.”

blaine winks at her before deciding to hell with it, leaning out the window and jumping down to the ground, wincing when his shoes slam against the pavement. fuck. that probably wasn’t worth a shot at impressing her.

though it is worth being in the perfect position to catch her, when she slips from the windowsill and straight into his arms, windswept and adorable. her trip down had been clumsy and imprecise, with all the grace of someone who had probably never snuck out of anywhere before. 

before he can stop himself, he lifts a hand to her face to brush her hair back behind her ear. she smiles at him, as his fingertips graze her temple, and for a moment it’s like they both forget who and where they are.

it’s terrifying. 

he sets kennedy down on her feet as quickly as he can, reaching for her wrist to tug her through the courtyard. “come on.”

“where are we going?” she asks, stumbling to catch up with him, “and -- slow down, jesus. i can’t run in these shoes. no one’s chasing us, anyway.”

right. he knows that. he’s done this plenty of times -- evaded his own security detail so frequently he could probably do it in his sleep. he’s snuck plenty of pretty girls around behind guards, including this pretty girl just a few days ago. there’s no reason he should be off his game now.

blaine shakes his head at himself and then slows to a stop, finally dropping kennedy’s wrist back to her side. “well, you can’t ever be too sure,” he muses, pleased to find that they’re definitively alone, no other students or faculty or wayward paparazzi following behind them. “but you’re off the grid, now. how’s it feel?”

kennedy pauses, then unleashes a blinding grin that’s a little bit dazzling. “i see why you do this all the time.”

he hums his agreement, trying not to stare at her smile. “we’re not even at our final destination yet.”

she makes an interested noise that he tries not to find sexy and fails. no one ever said he didn’t have a one-track mind. “where are we going?”

“you’ll see,” blaine promises, his own smirk sharpening as soon as they reach the gate and his hands find it unlocked. some state-of-the-art security.

kennedy falters beside him as he holds the wrought-iron out wide for her. “we didn’t fill out any paperwork.”

that’s true. but it would’ve been impossible to ask for permission when the plan was still only half-baked in his mind, sprung into being just twenty minutes ago. “we’ll be back before anyone notices,” he assures her, “except maybe your shadow.”

kennedy rolls her eyes, but his teasing does the trick. she saunters out of the gate with him without a glance back. “tatum’s just doing his job.”

“right,” blaine scoffs, “that’s all he’s doing.” 

there’s a pause that feels just a touch too long before kennedy carefully asks, “what do you mean?” 

“i mean --” he adopts the most casual tone of voice he can muster. it still feels like not enough, making him instantly regret dancing around this topic of conversation. “it just seems like there’s something else going on between you two.”

yep. kennedy smirks wide, as obviously delighted as any one person can look. he should’ve seen that coming. “is that so?”

“don’t be smug,” he mutters, hunching his shoulders in when a group of random strangers walk past them on the sidewalk. 

“no, i’m going to,” kennedy argues, looking unfairly cute as she does the same, mimicking his movements. god, he hates her. “tell me, what do you think is going on between us?”

“only if you tell me why you’ve been so quiet,” he fires back, leading them off down a side street. “you’ve been weird ever since we got back from pavadena.”

“i have not,” kennedy insists immediately, though when he looks her way again while they wait for the light to change so they can cross the street he sees she’s biting down anxiously on her bottom lip. “i’m not even supposed to be seen with you.”

“i know.” he’s not, either. yet here they both are, in broad daylight together, in the middle of town. “so?”

“so, i’m risking a lot, and it’s like, for what? you didn’t even -- you’ve barely spoken to me, too.” she looks embarrassed by the admission, avoiding his gaze while she stares at the sidewalk instead. “when other people are around, you act like... it’s nothing. me and you.”

blaine frowns. it’s unexpected, how hurtful it is to hear her say that in the soft tone of voice she’s using, uncertain and uncomfortable. she shouldn’t sound like that. “isn’t that what you want?”

she sighs, hesitating for a moment before opening her mouth again. “i --” kennedy cuts off abruptly, leaning to the side to peer around his shoulder. with a sheepish shrug, he realizes they’ve reached their destination, and that kennedy’s stopped talking because of the music playing, trying its best to lure them across the street and into the carnival. “oh my god,” she laughs, her whole face transforming from shy to excited so quickly it makes his head spin, “how did you know this was here?”

her reaction is worth any potential disaster waiting for them back on campus. it might even be worth the ass kicking that’s definitely heading his way from that surly bodyguard of hers, too. “doesn’t matter. come on.”

they jog across the street with their heads down, though as soon as they’re actually on the fairgrounds he realizes there’s no need to look over their shoulders; it’s the middle of the day and the carnival is pretty much empty, a wayward toddler being chased by an au pair the only other sign of life on the premises besides a few bored looking workers hanging out of their booths. 

“god, i haven’t been to something like this in ages,” kennedy gushes, already dragging him over to a big table marked tickets. “this is amazing.”

the thing is -- he knows exactly what she means. growing up like they did, being who they are, it’s impossible to do anything normal. he can’t remember the last time he had an afternoon out that was as mundane as this one, either. even date night with his last girlfriend had become a production; nothing was ever just dinner and a movie.

instead of acknowledging her gratitude, he shoves her out of the way with his shoulder and opens his wallet for the most tickets the teenager behind the counter will give him. kennedy completely ignores him while he pays, twisted around to look out over the fairgrounds, cataloging every offering with wide, overeager eyes. somehow she makes this traveling carnival that’s absolutely seen better days feel like a luxury destination, and as he passes the tickets over to her blaine finds that his smile is tough to dampen, despite his best efforts to keep his expression contained.

they burn through a good chunk of the tickets throwing baseballs at milk bottles -- mostly because kennedy insists she can knock down more than he can, and that simply won’t do. he refuses to stop until he’s won her the biggest prize they have available, an obnoxiously pink stuffed elephant with giant, floppy ears. 

fortunately, there’s still enough tickets left for the fun house and the photo booth and every other stupid thing she wants to do that he pretends to hate but doesn’t, until eventually the sun’s starting to set and he knows their afternoon out is coming to an end. 

“we should head back,” blaine suggests regretfully, watching her pick her way through the giant cotton candy he probably shouldn’t have bought for her with a mix of disgust and pride. “we’ve been gone awhile.”

“have we?” kennedy blinks, as though she’s only now noticing how late it’s gotten. “ugh. one more ride -- i have to finish this.”

“you don’t,” he remarks with amusement, noting the tips of her dyed-blue fingers even as they walk off indulgently towards the only ride they’ve yet to approach. “you can just throw it out.”

“that’s quitter’s talk,” she says through a mouthful of melting sugar, chewing with her cheeks bulged out while blaine uses the last of their tickets to get them onto the ferris wheel, which is completely abandoned except for the two of them, as far as he can tell. 

once the door is shut and they take off it’s the most alone they’ve been in awhile. the last time they were this secluded was in the kitchen in pavadena, when he’d licked frosting off her fingers and she’d looked at him like maybe she wanted him to kiss her, too -- like maybe she wanted even more than that.

sort of like how she’s looking at him now, doe eyes wide and nervous, the cogs of her mind very clearly turning into overdrive behind them.

it seems so obvious, now, staring at her in the cart. of course she’d wanted him to kiss her on dionne’s birthday. she’d dressed up, searching for a sincere compliment that she hadn’t gotten and invited him to dance in the hopes that if she made the first move he’d make the finishing one, like they’d done before. and he hadn’t even realized it.

so -- he probably is as stupid as everyone thinks he is. 

the ferris wheel creaks around them as they slowly ascend to the top, old machinery groaning while they climb higher and higher. it feels like it takes forever for him to sort his thoughts into a sentence that’s actually passable, but for once, he wants to be careful about what he says. “i didn’t mean to make you think i don’t care.”

he hears her inhale. kennedy flicks her gaze out at the view behind him, then bravely looks back at his face. “no?”

“no,” he confirms, shrugging helplessly again. “this is new to me.” even this conversation is beyond him.

but judging by the look on her face, he’s yet to colossally fuck up. that’s good. “me, too,” she admits, leaning in a little closer across the metal bench they’re both sitting on. “it’d be weird even if we weren’t... us.”

except that who they are has nothing to do with why this is so strange for him. kennedy could be from antartica, and he’d still be the unlucky bastard who finally met someone he thinks understands him and has botched talking to her about it at every opportunity. 

well, there’s one thing he knows he can still execute perfectly. as the ferris wheel glides to a stop for them to take in the view, the setting sun streaming in picturesquely through the little window in the cart, he leans in and kisses her, hands fanning out low over the small of her back.

kennedy tastes like cotton candy and her hands are sticky when they cup his face -- sticky like they would have been if he’d seen the signs for what they were and kissed her in pavadena like he’d wanted to, if he’d taken advantage of the rare moment alone in the way he was now, crowding her back into the corner of the cart with a grip that he knows is probably too tight.

but she kisses him back just as urgently as he’s kissing her, dragging him in closer and biting at his mouth. she’s kissing him like she’s been thinking about this, too -- like she’s found it even a fraction as all-consuming as he has, late at night when he can’t get to sleep and he’s staring at his ceiling cursing the absurdity of it all.

the moment is gone in the blink of an eye. the ferris wheel lurches back into motion with a sound that would be alarming if he wasn’t so distracted, the cart swaying in the wind as they slowly come down the other side of the circle.

she pulls away despite blaine’s best efforts to keep her in his personal space, his hands still firm on her hips. “blaine,” she murmurs, so prettily he actually has to shut his eyes -- just for a second -- just to catch his breath -- 

light spills into the cart as the door is wrenched open. they’re on the ground again, and there’s a line of kids waiting for their turn on the ride. going up had felt like forever, but the descent was done before he could even figure out what he wanted to say. 

they make their way back to the street silently. blaine is so lost in thought it takes him a minute to realize kennedy is on the phone, wincing and rushing to promise the world to whoever she’s talking to -- that they’d only run out for a little, that she was perfectly safe, that she’d be back soon. tatum, she mouths at him as soon as he catches her eye, though as she talks he finds it hard to do anything but stare at the blue corners of her mouth, where she probably still tastes like cloyingly sweet artificial sugar.

he half expects an ambush to be waiting for them at the vancross gates, but it’s quiet when they head back across the quad. after a few steps in the direction of kennedy’s dorm, blaine’s horrified to find that he’s dragging his feet, reluctant to let what was probably one of the better days of his adult life come to an end.

this is going to be a problem.

they stop on the side of her building, out of sight from any students who may be using the main entrance. kennedy clears her throat, then announces, “well... this was fun. consider me -- fixed. i think i’ll be able to get my head in the game, now.”

he should make a joke. she’s lobbed up the spike perfectly, all he has to do is hit it. he’s done it a thousand times before -- it should be as easy as breathing.

instead, he finds himself staring at her. blaine ignores what she’s said. “it’s not nothing.”

kennedy blinks. “huh?”

well -- saying it once was one thing. repeating it is something else entirely. he shoves his hands deep into his pockets, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. “you. this. it’s not nothing... to me.”

she’s smiled at him a lot since they’ve met, in pretty much every way imaginable: exasperated, fond, excited, alluring. none of them compare to the way she’s looking at him now, her whole face lit up with joy.

the kiss she presses to his cheek is soft, yet still so heavy. there’s a promise of something that makes him feel off-kilter weighted beneath it, and his stomach unknots as he realizes he’s said the right thing. “me either. goodnight, blaine.”

she disappears around the corner, pink elephant tucked up under her arm, half-finished bag of cotton candy dangling from her free hand. he watches her go, shaking his head at himself again and running his fingers through his hair once she’s out of sight.

ideally she’d be out of his mind, now, too, but he’s starting to realize there’s just about nothing that can make that happen and, if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t really want it, anyway.

you just went on a date, chirps an annoying little voice in the back of his mind. 

huh.

so he did.

for the first time since he came to this stupid school, blaine whistles on the way back to his room.

[greatbigbellies]

New commission story. This is an anonymous commission about a dysfunctional couple who wind up pregnant with sextuplets! Contains heavy multiples pregnancy, stuffing, humiliation, and discomfort.

They had been dating for three months, and living together for one, and Morgan was already at his wits end. Lilith, his girlfriend, was lovely, and sweet, and pretty, and all the things he wanted in a girl… but she was also ungodly frustrating because of one reason, and one reason only: she refused to do ANYTHING that might be considered work.

She was between jobs, hadn’t so much as taken out the trash, and still hadn’t unpacked from moving in with Morgan! Now he made good money. Morgan could support the two of them and then some, and he didn’t want a maid for a girlfriend, but what he did want was some backup. Coming home from work every day to see Lilith sitting on the couch playing videogames, with a sink full of dirty dishes, a can full of trash, and a pile of takeout containers was absolutely grating.

So finally, he hatched a plan. Something almost cartoonishly vindictive, but it had to be done, as far as Morgan was concerned. He’d ruin her. He’d knock her up, stuff her full of food, and watch her inflate like a balloon. If she wasn’t going to move, then he’d make her physically incapable of moving! Multiples ran in both of their families, so with any luck, she’d land pregnant with more than one. He also did all of the cooking. ALL of it. So sneaking fertility meds into her meals wouldn’t be too difficult either, he’d decided. And so, his campaign of corpulence began.

13 Weeks

“Nrrrrggghhh… come ON! Damnit!” Lilith swore as she attempted to button her favorite jeans. They had been holding up well through the first trimester, stretching with her skin, but that was starting to change. Of course, a lot had changed in the last 3 months… she’d found herself pregnant, with SEXTUPLETS no less, and was dealing with the ramifications poorly. She’d been stress eating a lot, something Morgan had been enabling quite a bit, and her tummy was already showing some growth. Both from food and babies, her waistline had a definite visible baby bump, and her belly button was flattened and preparing to pop.

“What’s wrong?” asked Morgan as he stepped into the room, a smile in his voice. He looked to see her wearing just jeans and a bra, fighting with the waistline of her pants. “I’m too big for my favorite pair of jeans! These have the cute patches in them!” she lamented. “Oh babe...” he trailed off, circling around to her front. He pulled something out of his pocket and knelt down. She eyed him suspiciously, not sure where he was going with this. He revealed the item to be a thin rubber band, which he stuck through the button hole and wrapped both ends around the base of the button. “Voila!” he grinned. She frowned in return. “Really? A rubber band? They’re not buttoned properly, people will judge me!” “Babe, we’re just going to the mall, it’ll be fine, now put a shirt on and do your makeup so we can get going!” he urged. “Are we going by JCPenny’s to get me a bigger wardrobe?” she asked. Morgan had turned to leave but stopped at the question. He had to think of an excuse quickly. 

“Not yet…” he said. “But I’ll get my quarterly bonus soon, then we’ll go clothes shopping then!” he lied. She crossed her arms and glared at him, somewhat temperamental from pregnancy hormones. “You’re really going to make me walk around with unbuttoned pants and a top that rides up because you want to wait for a bonus?!” he grumped. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “We can’t be all willy-nilly with money anymore, Lilith, we have six kids on the way!” he retorted. Her face tightened, then softened. He was right. She rubbed her tummy and sighed. “Yeah, okay, what’s like… one more week with tight clothes? Your bonus is coming in soon right?” He nodded, “Any day now,”

20 weeks

 7 more weeks came and went, and Lilith saw no sign of that bonus… or her feet. Now looking full term with one baby, Morgan had been doing a number on her figure. All of the weight seemed to gravitate to her midriff, and so her tummy grew both with child and with a thin layer of fat. Still despite the small wrapping of chub, her bellybutton managed to work its way into a full fledged outie, about as big around as her thumb. 

She sat on the couch in her usual spot, playing a first person shooter on the console, but it didn’t feel the same anymore. She’d gotten in an argument with Morgan before he went to work. A conversation about job prospects got ugly when Morgan pointed out she was too visibly pregnant for anyone to hire her. “Get comfy babe,” he’d said, almost mockingly, “You’re not going anywhere for a while,” There was some yelling, and swearing, and Morgan ended up stomping out the door, it was an all around rotten day.

That was, until the door opened, to reveal Morgan carrying what had to be $40+ dollars in takeout from Lilith’s favorite restaurant. “Oh my god, babe, what’s all this?” she asked, turning to watch him. “I felt bad about our fight earlier, so I bought enough food to keep you and the babies happy, as a gesture of good will,” he explained. “Oh, honey, that’s so sweet of you, but I already had dinner! I-” “All the better!” he cut her off. “You’re eating for seven now, and the doc said to let you eat as much as you could, so…” he set the bags on the coffee table beside her. Morgan smiled down at Lilith, looking at her with those cold steel blue eyes. Lilith brushed some of her bright blue hair behind her ear and broke eye contact. “I don’t know hon… that’s a lot of food there…” she trailed off.

Morgan sat next to her, between Lilith and the food, and placed a hand on her bare midriff, running a palm over her stretching skin. “I know it feels like a lot, but this is for the babies! We have to get them up to weight by the time you’re full term, and the only way to do that is to eat everything your stomach can handle,” he explained, somewhat firmly. She sighed, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, for the babies,” she took the first of three heaping takeout containers full of teriyaki chicken, chow mein, and rice, and got to work. 

Morgan kept close to make sure she ate every last bite, only getting up to bring her water when she asked for it. The first box went down pretty quickly, her pregnant appetite getting the best of her. The second was remarkably slower, and Morgan could see it filling out her tummy, causing it to push farther out, just slightly. By the time they hit the third box, she was struggling. “Babe I’m too full… I’m done,” she whined in protest. “Nope, you need to finish what you started,” Morgan said, once again rather firmly. “Morgan I’m gonna throw up if I push it any more…” He took the plastic fork and gathered a mix of rice, chicken, and noodles, and slowly delivered it to her mouth. “Just one more bite, for the babies,” he smiled coyly. She begrudgingly took the bite and began chewing, brushing her blue hair out of her sweaty face. 

She was the fullest she’d ever felt, her belly feeling overstretched from a combination of growing babies and filled stomach. The pressure radiated from her midriff to make her whole body uncomfortable. She was miserable, and Morgan knew it. He tried not to show his enjoyment, but the truth was this was going better than he could have hoped for. 6 babies would leave her massive, and his mission to stuff her with every calorie under the sun was going smoothly. At this rate, they’d need a bigger bed to both fit on, an expense he was more than willing to make happen.

33 weeks

Lilith’s flip-flops pattered against her feet as she waddled toward the mall food court, moving as quickly as she could, which admittedly wasn’t very quick at all in her state. Wearing shorts that were stretched to capacity, held up with Morgan’s rubber band trick, and a “PINK” tank top that functioned more as a bra than anything else, she blushed red as she made her way. Everyone, from the young to the elderly, stared at her, or more specifically, her massive, mountainous middle. She was rivalling octomom in size, and the bigger she got, the more Morgan found excuses to take her out. He held her hand and tugged her along, leading the charge to the burger joint. 

“Babe everyone is staring! I want to go home!” she hissed at him. He turned to give her a side-eyed look and hiss back “You’ll be fine. Now come on, the babies are hungry!” the pair rounded a corner and Lilith came face-to-face with her highschool BFF. Gwen. “Lilith?” she asked, recognizing the hair color. “Y-yeah…” stammered Lilith. Morgan beamed. “Oh my god! Girl you didn’t tell me you were preggers!?” Gwen smiled and circled around to give Lilith a genuine hug. The two girls looked to Morgan, Gwen with excitement, and Lilith with embarrassment. “And Morgan, you’re looking suave as usual,” Gwen smiled. Morgan smirked. “Why thank you,” Gwen turned her attention to Lilith’s pendulous belly, “Gosh I wondered why I haven’t heard from you in months!? When’s the baby shower? I wanna spoil this little…” she trailed off… “These little… guys?” she asked. “We don’t know the sexes yet-” Lilith was cut off “In about a month and a half, we’re going to have lots of fun little games centered about this tank right here,” Morgan gave Lilith’s belly a hearty pat, “So tell all your girlfriends they’re invited, cause it’s going to be big!” he grinned. Lilith shot him a radioactive death glare, but he ignored it, his plans already in motion. “Okay! I gotta run cause I can’t be late for an interview but I’ll catch up later! Bye hon!” she said, running off. 

“Bye… Gwen…” Lilith shot another look at Morgan. “What the hell was that?! We’re NOT having a babyshower!” “Says you,” Morgan smirked. He proceeded to pile it on, “But your friend was so excited! Are you really going to dash her hopes like that? She just wants to spend time with you,” Lilith pouted, “I… guess so…” her response was cut off by a deep rumbling from her tummy. Morgan shot her a mischievous grin and took her hand again, continuing their trek.

Seeing as she was too big to fit in the booths, Morgan sat Lilith down at one of the chairs, and went off to order. She could feel all eyes on her as she placed a hand on her tummy to try to calm the movement she felt deep inside. What was in reality only a few minutes felt like hours as she waited for Morgan to return with the food. She was happy when she heard him approach, but was upset at what she saw him carrying. “That’s six burgers!?” she whisper-yelled incredulously. “Yeah, one for each baby!” stated Morgan, matter-of-factly. “I’m not about to pig out in front of all of these people!?” 

Morgan’s smile dropped when she said that. “Are you really going to let the stares of a few strangers deny food for your babies? OUR kids?” Lilith sighed. “Well… no, but can we take this home?” her tummy rumbled again in protest. “I don’t think they can wait,” Morgan whispered. “F-fine… but when I’m full I’m stopping,” she sighed. Morgan placed both hands on the firm, warm front of her belly, feeling her popped bellybutton under his right palm. “You’ll stop when THEY’RE full, alright?” Lilith looked down at herself. Her massive, bloated, overly pregnant self, and sighed. “Yes dear,”

She picked up the first juicy, tender steakburger he’d gotten her, and took a huge bite. The food itself actually tasted great, the mustard, tomato, and pickles. She had been craving pickles today, she just didn’t want to admit it. One by one, each burger disappeared into her huge pregnant gut, eliciting happy kicks from its occupants. Morgan smiled as he watched her. These burgers would have given her trouble a month ago, but now? Her stomach was stretched, her babies were hungry, and she had the capacity to be a professional speed-eater, all thanks to him.

Lilith was enamored by the tastiness of the burgers, she was downing one after another, about 40 seconds a piece. She was starting to get embarrassed though. The way Morgan was grinning at her… the way the other mall goers were just… staring. She was a big, fat, pregnant spectacle… and she hated it. She felt a *pop* from the front of her shots and her heavy belly lurched forward slightly, and she knew what had happened. “Uh oh, babe,” Morgan said loudly. “Looks like that rubber band wasn’t strong enough against your belly. I guess you were right,” he shrugged. Lilith’s cheeks burned with bright red embarrassment, but she kept eating, pretending not to hear him.

She jumped slightly as she felt his hand touch her bare tummy, rubbing it gently. “Now isn’t this better? Eating to your stomach’s content?” she swatted at him and pointed to the nearby slushy stand. “Cherry,” she grunted through a mouthful of food. “Whatever you say,” he slipped away. In reality, she just wanted some space from him. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, he’d been so clingy, spending every spare moment with her, making her eat and drink. “For the babies” had become as commonplace as breathing, she felt like, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was doing this all on purpose.

Her thoughts were interrupted by his quick return. “They were out of cherry, so I got you tiger’s blood,” he said, handing her the 44 oz drink. She swiped it form him with one hand, and polished off the sixth and final burger with the other. She felt heavy. Well… heavier, as the six greasy sandwiches settled in her gut. 7 more weeks… then she’d be due, and this would all be over.

39 weeks

Morgan had made good of his promise. He threw a baby shower, and Lilith was the center of attention, despite her wishes. Gwen, along with four other friends of theirs, had come to the party, and despite the relatively small gathering, Lilith felt absolutely smothered. She sat in her usual spot, in the center of the couch, and she was surrounded by her physically close, if not emotionally close friends. Her tummy had absolutely ballooned, and she was so big she couldn’t reach her popped navel anymore. While she’d stayed relatively free of stretchmarks, red and purple veins made themselves known on her shiny, overstretched skin. Her underbelly hung between her legs, which were forced to spread to make room for her massive mound of a womb.

No matter what she did, how much she complained, or what she threatened, Morgan would not buy her maternity clothes. Her belly hung proudly on display for all to see, weather she liked it or not. This had become so much more apparent during the shower. While Morgan brought food and drinks for all, Lilith sat planted on the couch, cooed at and touched like a walking petting zoo. She felt like she couldn’t go 10 seconds without a hand brushing against her belly, and the visible motion from the sextuplets inside did not help. “You’re positively glowing!” They all said. “You exude motherhood!” “I hope I look as good as you when I’m pregnant!” she hated all of it.

She snapped out of her surly stupor when she heard Gwen address her by name. “Lilith, I haven’t seen you covered up once this whole pregnancy! What made you decide to go belly-out the whole time?” Lilith forced a grin, “Well, Morgan had a LOT to do with it,” she replied, mentally grinding her teeth. “You’re just so brave, like it’s such a powerful look! You’re like ‘look out world, pregnant mama coming through’!” Gwen laughed, resting a hand on the side of Lilith’s gargantuan midriff. Morgan stepped into the room with some sort of plastic box. “You girls ready for another game?” he asked. Lilith turned red, the last game had been all about guessing the measurement of her waistline. All the guests had estimated her bigger than she was, and Morgan made a big show of measuring her, having a hard time getting the tape measure all the way around. 72 inches. She was 72 inches around. She was bigger around than she was tall. She almost cried at the realization.

Morgan opened the box to reveal a rainbow of different body paints and brushes, “You all get to belly paint!” Every girl there except for Lilith beamed with excitement. The various paints and brushes were snatched up lightening fast, and before she realized fully what was happening, Lilith was surrounded by five women all kneeling around her and applying paint to her overstretched, pregnant skin. Lilith couldn’t see what was being painted on her due to her sheer size, but she could only imagine how awful and embarrassing it would all look. Morgan already had his camera out, taking pictures.

Shivers went down her spine as Lilith felt the bristles and thick paint run over her sensitive bellybutton, Gwen giggling as she ran the brush up and down. Lilith felt so embarrassed, so large was her middle that she could be used as five canvases at once! Her face turned redder and she frowned as Morgan snapped shot after shot of her massive, bare tummy.

As time passed Lilith grew increasingly agitated. The sensation of paint brushes on her belly was absolutely grating, and the feeling of dry paint caking on the skin wasn’t helping either. She realized she was getting hungry, which was only souring her mood more. She felt her stomach gurgle and saw Morgan’s eyes light up. He as attuned to the sound of her rumbling tummy like a shark to blood, Lilith could tell he had something planned for this event in particular. Her belly rumbled again, this time louder, and the girls started to notice. “Damn girl, we gotta get you fed!” said Gwen, patting the belly. “You must be dying over there!” Lilith shook her head, “No, no I’m fine, I just need-” “Some cake!” beamed Morgan as he carried in a triple layer devils food cake. Lilith gulped.

“Gosh Morgan you treat her so well!” said one of the girls. “Anything for my girl!” he replied, setting the cake on the shelf of her belly. Lilith’s pleading eyes met Morgan’s powerful gaze, and she knew he was about to make her pig out. Right here. In front of all of her friends. He took a seat next to her on the couch, grabbed a fork, and scraped off a big mouthful. “Say Ahh,” he whispered. The girls went back to talking amongst themselves and painting, and Lilith was feeling pinned down by the weight of her sextuplet belly, and triple layer cake. She winced, and took the bite. “There… for the babies,” Morgan said, getting another forkful.

Bite after bite went down and Lilith could feel the brushes on her tummy slow down until nobody was painting anymore. All eyes were on her. She chewed and swallowed bite after bite of the sickeningly sweet cake, the frosting getting on her face and the top of her belly. She felt a couple of hands start feeling up her belly again as she pushed past the halfway mark of the cake.

It was so heavy and rich, and Lilith could feel every bite of it go right to her midriff. The babies began to stir and kick, which only landed more hands on her tummy. Bite. Chew. Swallow. Bite. Chew. Swallow. It became almost rhythmic as she entered a food induced trance. She could faintly hear the girls saying things like “wow, she can really put it away,” and “Is she going to stop?” and “I think I feel her belly getting tighter!”, but she was lost to the caloric intake and sheer, painful embarrassment. 

She only came to when the cake stopped coming. When she had eaten it all. Gwen clapped for her. Morgan gave her a kiss on the cheek to congratulate her. Everyone else kept their hands on her belly. “She gets real strong cravings for chocolate sometimes,” Joked Morgan, the other girls giggling at her expense. Moran got his camera back out. “Smile!” he said, mockingly, as he snapped a photo. 

A perfect shot of Lilith, 39 weeks pregnant with six babies, her belly bare, resting between her legs. Her tummy was covered in little paint doodles of flowers, trees, landscapes, and stick figure families, except for the top shelf, which was stained brown from the smeared chocolate. Her mouth was open as she breathed heavily through it, feeling ready to burst. Morgan sat down next to her again, and showed her the picture on the camera’s display screen. “This is you babe!” he laughed. “This is what you really are!”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 12 (Peter Parker x Fem!Oc)

A/N: Now let's start with Avengers! Getting closer to seeing Peter, lol.

I know, I know...

Words: 1,593

Masterlist:

Post-credits scene II  / Chapter 13

“Good to go on this end. The rest is up to you,” says Tony from the other end of the call.

"You diconnected the transmission lines?" Pepper asks. "Are we off the grid?"

"Stark Tower is about to become a beacon of self-sustaining clean energy.”

"Well, assuming the arc reactor takes over and it actually works,” She continues

"I assume,” answers Tony. "Light her up.”

The huge sign forms a Stark when the lights come on.

"How does it look?"

"Like Christmas, but more... me.”

“Us!" says Lily after listening to the boring conversation between the two adults.

“We’ve got to go wider on the public awareness campaign. You need to do some press. I'm in DC tomorrow, I'm working on the zoning for the next three buildings,” says Pepper.

"That sounds so boring,” Lily complains walking to the couch, leaving her legs swinging on the armrest.

“I agree with the girl. Pepper, you're killing me. The moment, remember? Enjoy the moment.”

"Get in here and I will,” replies the redhead with a smile.

“Ew," adds Lily.

Since Tony and Pepper are finally together, they can't help but be more affectionate than normal, unfortunately the girl always has to interrupt them. She already has enough trauma.

When Tony reaches the tower, he walks on a platform where several robotic hands are responsible for removing the Iron Man suit.

The redhead continues to see the levels projected in the holograms. She leans back on the desk, waiting for Tony.

"Levels are holding steady… I think.”

Tony comes to her side, they talk, and then discuss the percentage of the great success of the reactor. All while Lily continues to get bored on the couch. The adults sit on the floor in front of the coffee table, surrounded by the armchairs, along with two glasses of champagne.

Blah, blah, blah, elevator, blah, blah, blah, money, blah, blah, percentage.

Lily sighs exaggeratedly to get their attention. They both stop talking and Tony watches her.

"Oh sorry, are we bothering you?"

Pepper purses her lips to keep from laughing.

"Actually yes,” the girl sits up. “I'm supposed to be able to do more things, go out more often.”

"And you did it.”

"From the house to the tower does not count, Dad,” She answers. "It's the same as before, only in another prison…”

"Don't exaggerate,” answers Tony. She sighs and falls back onto the cushions. “I don't understand why you’re bored. We’ve just made a breakthrough for the company.”

“One, your company. Two, I did nothing, just watched percentages, values, holograms. Bored!"

"I thought you liked that," adds Pepper.

"I want to do something else.”

"Like what, Smarty?"

"What about an Iron Man suit for me?" She says turning her head towards them.

Tony laughs out loud.

"It wont happen.”

"I had to try it…”

"Sir, the telephone," Jarvis interrupts. "I'm afraid my protocols are being overridden.”

"Mr. Stark, we need to talk,” says a male voice. Tony takes the phone from him.

"That sounds interesting," says Lily.

“You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message,” He pretends to be an answering machine looking at the screen, making Lily and Pepper laugh.

"This is urgent.”

"Then leave it urgently.”

But the elevator doors open, revealing Agent Coulson.

"This just keeps getting better,” says Lily. It had been a long time since they had seen Phil.

"Don't get excited kid. Security breach,” Tony complains.

"Phil, come in!" says Pepper getting up.

Tony looks confused at his girlfriend and follows her to where the agent is.

"I can't stay," answers Phil. He looks towards the couch where Lily greets him. "Hi, Lily.”

"His first name is Agent,” says Tony a little annoyed, but then he fakes a smile.

"We need you to look this over as soon as possible,” says Phil offering him a device.

Pepper is in charge of exchanging the device for his champagne glass, until it reaches Tony's hand.

"Official consulting hours are between eight and five, every other Thursday—”

"This isn’t a consultation," replies Phil.

"Now what did we do?" Lily asks, rising from the couch.

"Is this about the Avengers?" Pepper asks, then adds quickly. "Which I know nothing about.”

Tony opens the device in such a way that he reveals only a touch screen, he gestures to Lily and they both walk to a desk in the back.

"The Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought — And I did not qualify," He huffs.

"I did!”

Tony looks at her.

"Who told you that?"

“Nat," She smiles.

"I didn't know that either," continues Pepper.

"Apparently I'm volatile, self-obsessed, don't play well with others…”

“Bingo," says Lily.

"That I did know.”

"This isn’t about personality profile anymore,” replies Phil.

“Whatever," says Toy looking at the screen.

"What are we watching?" Lily asks, as her father obstructs her vision.

"Wait, Ms Potts, got a second?" The redhead obeys.

Tony enters some codes.

"You know, I thought we were having a family moment," He complains.

"I was having 12% of a moment.”

"Oh, not this again,” says Lily

The pair try to argue again, but Pepper changes the subject.

"What is all this?”

“This is… this.”

Lily walks to see each screen, where the profiles of some people are shown. Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Thor.

Pepper sighs. "I'm going to take the jet to DC tonight,” She says.

“Tomorrow," corrects Tony. They both talk, but Lily's attention is still in the files.

"Lily?" says the redhead and the girl turns. "I have to go."

Lily walks up to her and hugs her tightly.

"Be careful,” the little girl whispers when they part. Pepper nods, strokes her black hair and kisses her forehead. She then goes back to Phil.

"Wait, so who am I staying with?" asks the girl looking at her father. The three adults share a look. "Jess is in class, Happy’s busy and you’ll go,” She points to Pepper.

“Actually…” Coulson begins.

"I'll find a babysitter," Tony interrupts.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Sir. For this we need both Starks.”

"What?" say Tony, Pepper and Lily at the same time.

"They need me? Me?" Lily asks in disbelief. She feels a tickling start in her hands, but this time she controls it and hides her hands behind her back.

"No, Phil, it's dangerous for a ten-year-old girl," says the Redhead.

"I thought she was on probation," adds Tony.

“Our base will be surrounded by qualified and knowledgeable agents to ensure Ms. Stark's protection. Besides, it’s only a search, in case the situation changes, she’ll be taken to Miss Potts immediately.”

Lily's gaze moves between the agent and her father repeatedly, waiting for an answer.

“What do you need her for? Specifically,” says Tony.

"Director Fury thinks two Starks are better than one,” He tries to joke. "His words, not mine, but everything’s explained in the files.”

"Is this really happening?" Lily asks to no one in particular. “Someone finally heard my complaints!”

“Hey, calm your sugar. I won't let you go alone like this,” Tony warns.

"So, can I go?”

Tony groans. He senses Pepper's confused look, but he ignores it. Even he doesn't know if this is a good idea, but the fact that the super agents need his daughter makes him curious, and he has a feeling that if he doesn't accept, they’ll try to get it some other way and that's worse.

The redhead sighs in defeat, waiting for Tony to have everything under control. Although that’s not common in him. She now must worry about both of them, but at least has the assurance that Phil will be around. She just hopes she doesn't regret it later.

"Please, stay safe,” She finally says to them, then he returns to Phil and the two leave the Stark tower.

Lily watches them until she's alone with her father. She turns to meet the man holding a hologram of a blue cube.

"What's that?"

"We'll find out soon,” He returns the hologram to the screen and looks down at her. "I'll prepare coffee and chocolate, you and I will find ourselves reading and talking about the new rules of the game."

"New Rules? I'm not six years old anymore, dad.”

He sighs and makes a face.

"These rules are not in case you break something, Lily,” He looks directly into her eyes. “You heard Coulson. We’ll be surrounded by agents, spies trained to do whatever they are ordered to do. And at some point that order can harm us.”

"But Mr. Fury-"

“I know we have given them permission for certain things like your training, but it was all happening under my watch and Jarvis's. This time we’ll have to go to them, and that’s a problem.”

She frowns, analyzing that information.

“But Nat and Phil… They wouldn't do something like that.”

"I don't know, Kid. We can’t take anything for granted.”

"It's not easy and anyone can fool you, Lils." She remembers Nat's words during her training. In the end she nods towards her father.

"So what do I have to do?"

“Pretend that everything’s fine, but you have to stay alert and try not to get too far away from me. I don’t know the real reason why they want you in this, but you should not believe everything they tell you.”

"This will be more complicated than I thought," She adds with a grimace.

"Don't worry,” He offers his hand. "You and I are smarter than they are.” Lily holds his hand.

Taglist:

@silenthappyplace @yourbonesareinmybody @aylauwuuniverse    @skittles-skittles @hufflepuffzutara @poetryislife0715 @21bruhs @heavenlymistakes @my-love-of-books @dielgonacoffee  @thelastpyle​

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Lightning in a Bottle | Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: None :)

Time/Era: Modern AU

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Music is Edmund’s love language, apparently. 

Request: Hey! Could you possibly do a cute high school au with Edmund? Maybe they’re both crushing on each other and everyone knows except themselves, anything you wanna do really haha 😂 thanksss :)

A/N: Thanks for the request!!  God, I love Edmund so much. And here, we have indie boi Ed. This oneshot is inspired by  Electric Love by Børns. (Specifically, the video linked) This is one of my favorite songs, and I thought it fit the indie-main-character-high-school vibe :) I didn’t really nail the “everyone knows but them” thing, but still crushes! Enjoy ~

masterlist | here is a playlist of the songs in the mixtape mentioned | read on ao3

Edmund Pevensie was obsessed with listening to music, particularly with old musical technology. While it wasn’t uncommon to have a fascination with cassette tapes or vinyl records, it hit a special chord within Edmund’s heart. Something about listening to music, old and new, on the outdated tech made the music sound better, hit harder, and stick in his mind better. He was the type of guy who took the AUX on long car rides to play one of his thousand Spotify playlists. 

Another notable thing about Edmund was that he was very intelligent with very high standards for himself. He was a natural at academics, having been in advanced classes since he was young, and he was the guy everyone hated in math class. After dozing off in class, and mouthing off to the teacher every now and again, he still came out as the teacher’s favorite and a straight-A student. 

The majority of the time, though, he tended to keep to himself. While he was genuinely liked by his peers and was rather charming, he didn’t really consider anyone his friend. Unlike his older brother, Peter, he liked to remain closer to the shadows with earbuds in his ears. He knew he could never fill his brother’s shoes; Peter had basically come into Cair Paravel High School to be captain of the soccer team. He was so good that even though his grades were subpar at best, he received a full-ride scholarship to Archenland University to study sports medicine and play on their soccer team. 

Then there was his older sister, Susan, who won her Student Body President campaign by a landslide. Everyone liked Susan; she was patient, gentle, and got along with pretty much everyone. She too got a pretty large scholarship to Beruna State College and is double majoring in child education and European history. 

Finally, there was Edmund’s little sister, Lucy. She was only a freshman at Cair Paravel, and very into student council. Edmund thought she was practically made to be an ASB kid; she was excited, friendly, and much too kind. Lucy made the switch to high school seamlessly and had a big group of friends by the time the final bell rang on the first day. 

Edmund was a senior now and he couldn’t wait to get out of high school. The people were unintelligent, he was constantly compared to his siblings and he was ready to start his life. Edmund had high ambitions to become a lawyer, specifically criminal law. He didn’t really have much to leave behind at this school, so he was just trying to get through it as soon as possible.

One thing he would miss was the quiet girl that sat behind him in his music appreciation class. Edmund didn’t really want to take the class, but at the last minute, he discovered he needed to fulfill an arts credit to graduate. He appreciated music and liked easy classes, so he chose this one. Little did he know it was mostly analyzing classical pieces. 

Y/N was super cute in Edmund’s eyes. She always mumbled sarcastic comments whenever their easily excitable teacher, Mr. Tumnus, would stretch when over-analyzing a stanza of music. By the time October passed, Edmund had grown quite fond of the girl. She almost always was reading a comic book of some sort instead of paying attention in class. Y/N even ended up lending Edmund a few for his viewing pleasures; he always made sure to return them in the exact condition he received them. Batman seemed to Y/N’s favorite. 

Y/N loved watching Edmund write. He held his pencil wrong and always had ink smudged all over his hand. Maybe it was because he was a leftie, or maybe it was because he wrote too fast. Probably a little bit of both. His handwriting was also weirdly slanted to the right, which didn’t make any sense to Y/N. He was left-handed but his letters slanted to the right? Not the mention how half of it was in cursive and half of it was in print. It was definitely messy but, oddly enough, still intelligible. 

“What are you listening to?” Y/N asked Edmund. “Better not be Christmas music. Christmas was last month.”

Edmund pulled an earbud out of his left ear and turned so he was sitting horizontally in his chair. He leaned an arm on the top of her desk and grinned. “Currently, I’m listening to Can I Call You Tonight? By Dayglow. What are you reading?” 

“Currently, I’m reading Volume 1 of The New Teen Titans,” Y/N copied Edmund. “I’ve never heard of Dayglow, are they good?” 

Edmund smiled, offering her his earbuds. “Listen and see for yourself.” 

As she listened Edmund searched her face for any clue to what she’s thinking. Her face housed a small smile so he concluded that she enjoyed it. Once the song ended, she took out one of his earbuds and placed it on her desk. 

“I like it,” She concluded, listening to the next song. 

“Good, so do I. It fits my mood for today.”

“What’s got you so happy today? You have a great way of showing happiness, by the way.” Edmund was dressed in all black with his hood up. Edmund rolled his eyes. 

“What I can’t be in a good mood?” 

“I never said that, Pevensie. You just look very Edmund-y today.” Y/N pulled the other earbud out of her head and held them out to him.

“No, keep listening. I’ll play some music for you throughout class and maybe you can tell me what you think at the end?” He pulled his hood off of his head and smoothed out his hair. “And what do you mean Edmund-y?”

“I don’t know, all black, hood up, dead look in your eyes.” 

“I don’t have a dead look in my eyes!” Y/N giggled at her own joke. “Just for that, I’m going to take this.” He snatched the open comic book that laid open on her desk. 

For the remainder of the class, Edmund dictated what Y/N listened to from his phone. He played everything from The Beatles, to The 1975, to COIN, to Duran Duran. Every now and then, Edmund would peek his head back to see her eyes glued to the back of his head. Her body swayed to the music almost lazily, and a smile graced her features. For some reason that made his stomach feel fuzzy. 

She returned his earbuds at the end of class, and he returned her comic. 

“That was fun,” Y/N complimented, shoving her materials into her bag. “I like the get better song you played.”

“I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers,” Edmund corrected her as they left the classroom. Music Appreciation was the class of the day for them, seeing as they were seniors who left at lunch, so the two started making their way towards the parking lot. 

“You have to meet your sister right?” Y/N asks, pulling out her I.D. so she could leave campus. “The really sweet freshman girl? Honestly, you two are so different I wouldn’t have guessed you were siblings.” 

“Oh, Lucy, yeah. We grab lunch every Thursday before I drop her back off for the remainder of her classes.” The two showed their I.D.’s to the campus aid and walked into the parking lot. 

“That’s sweet. We should grab lunch sometime, or something. It could be fun! We could do our analysis questions about Bach.” Y/N started to walk in the opposite direction and Edmund felt his cheeks warm. Luckily, Y/N’s back was now towards him. 

“Yeah, sure. Don Giovanni, right?” 

Y/N’s laughter could be heard as she grew further away. “That’s Motzart, Pevensie!”

Edmund shook his head and met Lucy. She was leaning against his car looking bored. 

“Who was that? Is that your girlfriend?” Lucy asks, opening the door once Edmund unlocks the car. This made his cheeks flush more. 

“No, she’s just the girl that sits behind me in Tumnus,” Edmund puts the key in the ignition and starts the engine. 

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not, Lucy. It’s just hot in the car, it’s been sitting out here for ages.”

~

 One day in the middle of March when Y/N walked into Music Appreciation, she noticed a small rectangle box on her desk. Upon opening it, she found a cassette and a note. The note looked as if it was typed using a typewriter. 

Y/N,

I’m not very good when it comes to words, but I’m good when it comes to music. Hopefully, this says it all. Enjoy, my love. 

Side A //

Electric Love / Børns

I Love You So / The Walters

Fallingforyou / The 1975

Your Song /  Elton John

Someone To You / BANNERS

Side B //

Babe, Can I Call? / The Hunna

Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy) / The 1975

Luv, Hold Me Down / Drowners

love somebody like you / joan

TV Dream / Larkins

Y/N didn’t recognize most of the songs, but just reading the titles made her blush. 

“Mr. Tumnus? Did you happen to see who left this on my desk?” She held up the cassette so he could see. He shook his head. 

“No, sorry.”

Other students started to trickle in and soon the bell rang, no trace of Edmund. It wasn’t uncommon for him to skip this class, it was basically pointless, but it made Y/N sad every time he wasn’t there. 

The door swings open and a drenched Edmund steps into the classroom. Without even looking up, Mr. Tumnus addresses him. 

“You’re late again, Mr. Pevensie.”

“Sorry, I got stuck behind a group of Sophmore girls who wouldn’t move.”

“In the rain?” Mr. Tumnus raised an eyebrow.

“No, if it was in the rain I would be wet right now, sir.”

He plopped into his seat and started raking his hands through his wet hair. His cheeks were slightly rosey, as were his nose. His lips were pinker than usual and they stayed slightly parted. Hair stuck to his forehead as he ran his fingers ran through it and the hair on the nape of his neck dripped down his back. Y/N had to stop herself from staring at him with her jaw unhinged. 

“What’s that?” He whispered, noticing the open present on Y/N’s desk. He had taken up sitting horizontal in his chair at all times so he could more easily talk to Y/N. 

“It’s a mixtape. It was left on my desk when I got here,” Y/N responded and handed him the note. Edmund took it and began to read; his eyes scanned the paper and his lips moved slightly as he read. Y/N couldn’t help her this time, so she allowed herself to stare. His lips were always so pink and so puffy. She fantasized about how soft they must be. 

“Wow, looks like someone really likes you,” He comments, placing the paper back on her desk. “Do you have a cassette player?”

Y/N didn’t even consider that. Who the hell has a cassette player in the year 2020? Apparently, her answer was evident on her face, and Edmund chuckles. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a walkman and a pair of earbuds. 

“Here, you can have mine. I got a new one last month and I don’t really use this one as much.”

Oh, Edmund has a cassette player in the year 2020. 

Y/N smiled, taking the player from his hand. “Thanks, Ed.”

“Wouldn’t want you to miss out on those songs. Whoever made that has good taste, you’re lucky.” 

~

When Y/N got home tonight, she took out her walkman. It sat easily in her palm, just big enough for the cassette to fit inside. On the bottom, “E.P.” was scratched into the plastic. She smiled and put her mixtape inside. 

As she listened, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to Edmund. They had grown much closer in the past few months, even going lengths to hang out outside of school. Y/N learned that not only was Edmund extremely intelligent, but he was the funniest person Y/N had ever met. He always had a sarcastic comeback or joke to offer her, no matter the subject. He had also let many of his walls down, letting Y/N get to know him better. It all felt so comfortable and natural. No longer was he just the cute guy from Music Appreciation, but he was the pain in the ass that Y/N had fallen for. And Y/N had fallen hard. 

Against her first impression of the mixtape, Y/N had actually heard all of these songs. After the first day in January, Edmund had lent her his earbuds near-daily and she would listen to whatever he played for her. Her eyes widened. 

Why would Edmund carry around a cassette player he didn’t use? And to school for that matter? And the note; it was typed because Edmund had such distinct handwriting! Y/N rewound the cassette and listened to it again. Why didn’t she realize in the moment?

~

“Hello, Y/N,” Edmund greeted in the parking lot the morning, he happened to park next to Y/N. He gripped the coffee in his hand and got his backpack in the trunk. “How are you on this fine morning?”

“Tired, I stayed up, like, half the night listening to that cassette I got yesterday.” Y/N slung her own backpack over her shoulder. He closed his trunk and locked his car. 

“Yeah? And what did you think?” The two started walking towards the building. 

“I thought that the songs all sounded oddly familiar.”

Edmund took a long sip of his coffee. “Like you’ve heard them before?” 

“Mmhm,” Y/N hummed and walked onto campus. She held one of the straps of her backpack as she walked. “Almost as if this dumbass guy I know played them for me a while back,” Y/N’s voice was teasing and light. 

“Yeah? Who is this guy?” Y/N stopped walking and looked up at Edmund. 

“Thanks for the mixtape, Ed.” 

“Whaaaat...just because this guy has great taste in love songs doesn’t mean it was me. I’m flattered though, really,” Edmund took another long sip of his coffee. 

“Oh, what a pity. I actually got excited when I figured out it was you. Considering normal people don’t just carry cassette players in their backpacks. Especially not ones they don’t use anymore.” Y/N’s voice was thick with sarcasm. 

“Excited?”

“Yeah. I’ve kinda liked that Edmund guy for a while, but he doesn’t like me back so…”  

“You like me back?” Edmund was grinning from ear to ear. 

“Yes, babe, I like you back. I have since October since I started letting you borrow my comics,”

Edmund placed his coffee on a bench and pulled Y/N closer to him by the hips. 

“October, huh?” Y/N smiled bashfully at Edmund’s tone but nodded. 

“What? You’re cute, I couldn’t help myself. Plus, now you make me cute mixtapes.”

Edmund leans down and places his lips against hers. They were just as soft as she had imagined. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers quickly finding the hairs at the nape of his neck. He pulls away and leans his forehead against hers. 

“Be my girlfriend, then?”

“You nerd,” Y/N took a small step forwards and pecked his lips again. “I would love to.”

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 15

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating, mentions of a miscarriage, descriptions of violence and injuries 

“Clear the way people! Move now!!” Jimin shouted with authority as he ran alongside the stretcher that Namjoon was laid out on, you following close behind with a flurry of security flanking you. Once you all made it into the hospital, doctors came from what seemed like every direction to work on Namjoon while Jimin worked on locking down the hospital to keep it safe.

“You’re ok Joon, you’re ok,” you whispered to him when you heard a loud groan escape his throat. You figured that he was in pain from both the bullets inside of him and from whatever the doctors were doing to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look down at his chest. 

“Ok, he’s stable but it’s touch and go so we’re gonna have to get him into surgery now!” One of the doctors exclaimed. 

“First Lady Kim, you’re gonna wanna back up,” one of the nurses said to you and you nodded, standing up straight and backing up slightly but still holding onto Namjoon’s hand. The team of doctors counted to three before they all lifted the sheet that Namjoon was laying on and moved his body onto a hospital bed. 

“Y/N, you have to let him go,” Jimin said as he walked up behind you, gently taking ahold of your arm but you shook your head rapidly.

“I can’t leave him!” You exclaimed. 

“He has to go into surgery, he’ll be fine,” Jimin assured you, trying to pry you away from Namjoon but you just clutched onto his hand tighter.

“First Lady Kim, we’ll come tell you as soon as we have any news,” a doctor assured you. “But he needs to get into surgery right away.”

“...Ok,” you relented, fresh tears falling down your cheeks as you looked down at Namjoon and released his hand. You watched tearfully as the doctors and nurses swiftly wheeled the bed that Namjoon was on down the hallway, disappearing behind double doors that read ‘Only Medical Personnel Beyond This Point’. 

“Come on, we’ll wait in the waiting room,” Jimin said as he wrapped one arm around your waist and you leaned into him as he led you away from the blood-spattered ER.

Just as the two of you were about to head into the waiting room, you heard a flurry of commotion near the door and when you looked up, your eyes widened as it seemed like all of your worst fears were coming true.

“No,” you whispered, your head starting to hurt from how much this night was turning into a literal nightmare.  

“Oh my God,” Jimin whispered in shock and you broke out of his arms as you ran towards the door, almost colliding with the stretcher that Momo was laid out on. 

“Mo, are you ok?!” You screamed, the very sight of your best friend on a stretcher effectively freaking you out.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise,” she swore, holding up her left arm, which had a thick bandage wrapped around it. “I got hit by one of the bullets when it ricocheted off of the railing of the staircase but it’s a shallow wound.”

“Thank God,” you muttered, throwing your arms around her in a hug, which she returned happily.

“How’s Namjoon?” She questioned and the emergency worker who had been pushing the stretcher that Momo was on started to move again, so you walked with them.   

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “When we got here, the doctors stabilized him but he’s in really bad shape and they basically moved him into surgery as soon as they were sure that he was still breathing.” The emergency worker wheeled Momo into a free room, before bowing to you and walking out to give the two of you privacy. 

“What about Jungkook and Taehyung?” Momo asked and your eyes widened again.

“What about them?” You wondered.

“They got hit by bullets too,” Momo informed you and you couldn’t stop the gasp that slid past your lips. 

“I didn’t know that,” you said. “I was so focused on Joon, I probably didn’t even notice that they got wheeled in as well.”

“When the shooting started, I got hit and Jungkook pushed me down to try and cover me but then he got hit in the leg,” Momo recounted. “I think maybe in somewhere else too, then Taehyung tried to help the both of us and he ended up getting shot too. I’m not sure where though because I effectively passed out after that.”

“What the fuck?” You huffed in disbelief. “Do you know if anyone else is hurt?”

“Not sure,” Momo shrugged. “We were the only ones outside though, so I’m pretty sure it was only us.”

“I’m so sorry that you got caught in the literal crossfire,” you apologized and Momo shook her head instantly.

“Not your fault,” she said sternly. “It’s just some fucking psycho, nothing to do with you.”

“But still,” you shrugged and just before Momo could respond, a doctor stepped into the room. 

“I’m sorry First Lady Kim, but we need to work on extracting some bullet fragments from Ms. Hirai,” she said. 

“Of course,” you nodded before looking back at Momo. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

“Alright, and see if you can find out any updates on Jungkook, please?” She requested and you smiled softly.

“You know it,” you told her, leaning over and kissing her cheek before stepping out of the room. Once you were back out in the hallway, there was still the buzz of activity going on and you found yourself suddenly feeling faint as the reality of everything that had happened in the past hour began to set in. However, like the angel he is, Jimin was by your side in a second.

“Hey, you ok?” He wondered and you shook your head. 

“Feeling a little dizzy,” you admitted and Jimin’s eyes widened.

“You haven’t eaten since this morning before we left my place, have you?” He wondered and you shook your head. “Let’s go get you some water and a candy bar then, yeah?”

.................................................

About two hours later, you were sat in the waiting room with Jimin, still in your blood-stained dress with Jimin’s suit jacket hanging from your shoulders. Namjoon was still surgery as far as you knew, Momo was under anesthesia from getting the bullet pieces out of her arm, and you still hadn’t heard anything back on Namjoon’s, Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s conditions.

In the two hours that you had been waiting, the only thing that played in your mind was the argument that you and Namjoon had had before leaving the Blue House just a few hours ago. You couldn’t help but to be overcome with a huge sense of guilt, not for the shooting, but for how you had never noticed how Namjoon felt about loosing your son. You felt careless, self-centered, and like a terrible fucking wife. 

“Hey, you alright in there?” Jimin asked and you looked over at him, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could even stop them.

“I had a miscarriage,” you blurted and Jimin’s eyes widened. 

“What? When?”

“A year ago,” you answered. “It happened a little while after Namjoon had announced his candidacy for President.”

“Do you want to maybe, talk about it?” Jimin asked cautiously and you nodded. 

“Once Namjoon decided to run for President, he was never home,” you began. “He was always at his campaign headquarters, or giving a speech, or out shaking hands with people. It was a hard adjustment for me because we went from being together all the time and being able to spend time together to seeing each other twice a month. About two months into campaigning though, I found out that I was pregnant and we were both so excited because we had always talked about having kids.”

“Keep going,” he encouraged you, reaching over and grabbing one of your hands in his. 

“One day, I was really insistent on him coming home and not working late because I was pregnant and emotional and just wanted my husband at home with me. He said that he needed to work and we ended up getting into this huge fight, and I went to bed angry at him. When I woke up, I was soaked in blood,” you said. “It was the most blood that I had ever seen in my life at once, up until tonight.”

“I’m so sorry baby bird,” he whispered, scooting closer to you and wrapping his free arm around your shoulders. 

“You know how Namjoon and I were arguing before we left the Blue House?” You wondered, knowing that he had probably heard the shouting and Jimin nodded. “Namjoon cheated that first time with Hyejin because after I had the miscarriage, I treated him like shit.”

“That’s no excuse for him to just go off and cheat on you though,” Jimin pointed out. 

“I know but it just all makes so much fucking sense now,” you huffed. “I pushed Namjoon away in order to cope with my grief, all while being oblivious to the fact that he was grieving too. It took years for Namjoon to really trust me and to trust our relationship and to trust the fact that he wasn’t going to have to leave me like he had to leave Hyejin, and I ruined all of that in a second.”

“You can’t blame yourself for all that’s happened between the two of you.”

“I’m not,” you assured him. “But I am realizing just how big of a role I played in all of this. I started it by hurting Namjoon, then he hurt me by cheating with Hyejin, then I hurt him again by telling him that our marriage would be a marriage in name only once we decided to do the arrangement when I knew full well that he was trying his best to earn my forgiveness back, and he hurt me by starting to sleep with other women once our marriage was open. It’s been a vicious ass cycle of us just hurting each other over and over again, and I feel fucking guilty that I let it go on this long. Now, he’s on an operating table with fucking bullet holes in his chest and his last words to me were ‘Fine’ in response to me saying that I really do want a fucking divorce!”

“Ok stop, you have to calm down,” Jimin told you firmly, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you there as you wrapped your arms around him as well. “Match my breathing.” You did so, taking slow and deep inhales before letting them out again. The two of you continued this for a few minutes, until your breathing returned to normal again. 

“I’m sorry for springing all of that on you,” you muttered against his shoulder and you felt him shake his head.

“Don’t be sorry baby, I know it’s a lot going on right now and you’re handling it the best that you can,” Jimin replied. You opened your eyes and saw a doctor walking into the waiting room, making you immediately let go of Jimin and stand up. Jimin did the same, the both of you turning to face the doctor.

“First Lady Kim,” the doctor said, bowing to you. “I’m Dr. Song.”

“Hello,” you greeted him. “How’s Namjoon?”

“President Kim’s injuries are just as bad as we anticipated them to be, if not worse,” Dr. Song announced grimly. “He lost a lot of blood, and the bullets did extensive damage to his chest cavity. As a result, he’s now in a coma.”

“A coma?” You squeaked. “And how long is that going to last?”

“Well, only time can tell,” Dr. Song shrugged. “We were able to get all of the bullets out but the damage is so bad that his body just cannot handle extended surgery right now so although we know that the damage was bad, we aren’t exactly sure to what extent and that makes it hard to estimate.” 

“Oh, what about Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook?” You asked and the doctor grimaced.

“Mr. Jeon was hit in the leg and although it’s pretty bad from what I heard, he’ll be fine with some intensive physical therapy in order to regain full, functional use of his left leg,” Dr. Song said. “As for Kim Taehyung, his injuries were a bit more extensive.”

“How much more extensive?” Jimin spoke up. 

“He was hit in the shoulder and in the stomach, which are two particularly dangerous places to be shot in,” Dr. Song replied. “He’s still in surgery as of right now, but he was stable when he was brought in.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Song,” you thanked him and he just nodded softly.

“As soon as I find out any more news on the three of them, you’ll be the first person to know,” Dr. Song assured you and you smiled softly as he bowed again before turning and walking out of the waiting room. You then turned back to Jimin, fresh tears falling from your eyes again and Jimin just held his arms open, allowing you to follow into them.

“This is like a nightmare,” you sobbed, making Jimin just wrap his arms tighter around you.

.................................................

“Y/N-ah, I know that you’re upset but don’t make a dumb decision,” Yoongi spat as he paced in front of you, and you looked up at him with a glare.

“All I wanna do is make a statement to the press about Namjoon’s, Taehyung’s, Jungkook’s, and Momo’s conditions,” you said. “I didn’t realize that doing that would be counted as stupid.”

“Usually, it wouldn’t be but given the fact that someone just tried to kill your husband a few hours ago, it’s dumb,” Yoongi said and you looked over at Jimin for help, only to see him with a hard frown on his face.

“I agree,” Jimin spoke up, knowing that you were trying to get help from him. “It’s too dangerous right now, especially since we still haven’t caught whoever did it. Can’t you just release a statement through the Blue House?”

“Look, Namjoon has never shied away from anything regarding this job and since whoever did this has made it to where he can’t stand up for himself, I’m going to be the one to do it for him,” you stated firmly. 

“Y/N-,” Yoongi started to say but you cut him off. 

“Look, I’m not going to debate about this any longer. Now, either we can be smart about this and you can set up the press and Jimin can arrange proper security measures, or you can both be stupid and let me go out there alone. Either way, I’m still going out there.”

“Jimin-ssi?” Yoongi said gruffly and both of you looked over at him, seeing the internal struggle that he was going through.

“....Fine,” he finally relented and you smiled at him. “We’ll get someone up here with extra clothes for you while I go and make the necessary arrangements.”

“Thank you,” you told him and he nodded stiffly at you before getting up and walking away.

45 minutes later, you were standing near the entrance of the hospital, watching through the window as Yoongi addressed the crowd of reporters, journalists and camera people. 

“We all set?” You wondered as you turned to face Jimin and he nodded as he listened to whoever was talking to him through his earpiece.

“About one more minute,” he said as he turned to face you, reaching out and fixing the lapel of the blazer that you had changed into. “Remember Y/N, I’m giving you one minute out there to say whatever you need to say and if I so much as see someone move wrong, I’m not above running to you and dragging you back in here, got it?”

“Got it,” you nodded, a soft smile coming onto your face when Jimin leaned forward and kissed your lips lightly. 

“Alright, come on,” Jimin said, pushing open the hospital door and allowing you to walk out first. He stayed close to you, the two of you walking over to the makeshift podium that the hospital had set up outside. Yoongi lightly tapped your hand as the two of you passed each other, and you stepped up onto the podium while Jimin, Yoongi, and the rest of your security flanked the podium. 

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice and at such a late hour,” you began your statement, looking out into the crowd as you spoke into the microphone. “As I’m sure all of you are aware, my husband, President Kim Namjoon, was shot tonight as we made our way to a Children’s Benefit. While the President’s injuries are extensive, he is still alive. However, he is now in a coma as a result of his injuries and we are not sure how long it will take him to wake up as of now.”

“In addition to my husband’s injuries, my personal secretary Momo Hirai, Chief of Staff Kim Taehyung, and Minster of Economy and Finance Jeon Jungkook all sustained injuries in the shooting as well. Now, any questions?” All of the reporters and journalists hands went up in the air and you randomly pointed to a small woman in the front. “Yes?”

“What is the extent of both Minster Jeon’s and Chief of Staff Kim’s injuries?” She questioned. “From the footage that exists, it looked like they were both injured pretty badly.”

“For privacy reasons, I am not allowed to disclose that information as their families are still being contacted and notified,” you said, pointing to a man in the back who had his hand up. 

“As President Kim will be presumably be out of commission for a while, even after waking up from this coma, do you think he’ll resume his Presidential duties?” He asked.

“Well, I can’t exactly say. However, I do know that serving our great country and the people that live in it has been my husband’s greatest mission in life so I think even if he can’t resume his duties as soon as he wakes up, Prime Minster Min has his full confidence.”

“And you?” Another reported spoke up. “Does he have your full confidence?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded. “Prime Minster Min was endorsed personally by my husband and they share the same sense of duty so I believe that our country will be in great hands while my husband recovers. Now, one last question.” You said as you pointed towards a middle aged man that stood near the middle of the crowd. 

“In regards to the people who did this, what do you want to happen to them once they are caught?” He wondered. “I only ask because your husband has notoriously been against death sentences and I’d like to know your thoughts.” You tilted your head to the side lightly, thinking about the question for a few seconds.

“I hope that they burn in hell,” you smiled, a flurry of sound coming from the crowd and an increase of camera flashes started to happen. “No further questions.”

.................................................

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