#put out many small fires started by different bits of english evidence

[proto-language]

Much appreciated!! I have not taken a course in Minimalist syntax - my introductory stuff only went as far as G&B/X-bar theory and I was a firm hater of the field until my dissertation turned me onto it - so explanation is very helpful :)

this is so unnecessarily brutal kjsdghklsdlkgd i KNOW i'm bad at syntax

[mnoonthego]

Day 3 con’t- Sign Language & Smiles

As promised here is a bit more about yesterday.

We took quite a drive from Nairobi to the Rift Valley to get to Joshua’s village. He had to come and collect us from one of Kenya’s soda lakes (I had never heard of a soda lake before- they are shallow alkaline lakes that have a ton of green algae and therefore tons of “lesser” flamingos (who names something that!??). The alkaline comes from past volcanic activity and the tons of bird poop (which is apparently why the lake is pink along the shore) and escort us as the roads don’t really seem like roads but merely tracks through hard packed sand/dirt in most parts of it but the tracks diverge around trees and termite mounds that all look the same so you need to know your way. I have to say although the roads leave a lot to the imagination, seeing giraffes wander around, and huge herds of zebras in the wild is pretty amazing and spotting troops of baboons just doing their thing as you drive along seems a little unreal. Oh and the massive termite mounds taller than me look unlike anything I imagined! The landscape itself is spectacular. At times if feels like you are driving across the surface of Mars, other times the ground will be covered with a pale green due to the recent rains, it may be covered in volcanic rock and at other times it feels like a forest- all in a days drive from Nairobi.

As you drove along you frequently would think, who could possibly live in a place like this as it was so sparse and then, surpise, there would be another pack of goats and a small village. We visited Joshua’s Mom in the thriving, “large” village that consisted of a number of small corrigated tin buildings. Many also seemed to be made of former containers- the big containers that you see on ships.

When we arrived in the village we were greeted by a bunch of smiling kids and a ton of goats.  It was great to see our kids interact with their kids although it was mostly through sign language and smiles as we don’t speak Swahili and they didn’t speak English. Joshua was busy translating for all.

Joshua asked two of his kids- Nempress, age 12 and Anuk, age 8 to show Oriana and Tamsyn how to milk a goat. They sure made it look easy which it evidently is not based on Oriana and Tamsyn’s lack of skill. We sat down with Joshua and had a lovely coffee in the of a tree. As I typically don’t have coffee I had to heavily dilute it with goat’s milk. I wasn’t sure what to expect but it was quite tasty. I wonder if Fresh Cup would bring some in for me!!?

Poor Tamsyn was feeling the heat, and when they took us up to show us the sheep they had slaughtered for us roasting on the fire, the poor kid started to dry heave. I’m not sure if it was the very evident body on the fire, jaw and all, or the pile of entrails, skin etc. left beside the cook that put her over the edge. Ever the gracious host, Joshua pulled out his “machete” (I didn’t think to ask what they called this huge knife) and cut a piece off for us to try. I think it is the first time I have ever heard Tamsyn say she wasn’t hungry.

The girls were invited into the house to help with the cooking of the lunch and of course out of curiosity Mark and I had to follow. This is the Chief’s house but I’m not sure if it differs from others. I don’t really even know how to explain it but it is a round mud hut with a thatch roof, a fire in the middle and two rooms with dividers so that two of the beds were a bit separate from the “kitchen” and the room with a fire. It was so dark as there are no windows and I don’t know where they kept their things. They presented us with some beautiful beaded jewelry so they obviously have some where for their things!?

Once the sheep was cooked we had a meal of sheep and ugali. Ugali kind of looks like a dumpling and is made with maize flour and boiling water and forms a dough like consistency. You dip it in your sheep “stew” (tomatoes and onions) for a very typical meal. Mango was also brought to the table to share.

After lunch, we headed down to the river to cool off. This village is extremely lucky to have a permanent source of water for irrigation, washing, laundry etc. Many of the surrounding areas are desperate for any water due to the “long rains” not coming this year. (we saw a giraffe carcass where in desperation it tried to climb a tree looking for food with an unfortunate outcome of falling out.) Although we didn’t have our swim suits, we all were happy for the opportunity to cool down. Oriana and Anuk had a water fight with tons of smiles and no clear winner as they were both soaked!

After our walk to the river, we sat down and Joyce (pretty sure that isn’t the name her mother gave her at birth) through Joshua’s translation, invited us to join the Lion’s tribe and provided us with Masai names. Mark’s name, Olomunyak, means lucky man; Mine, Nasaru, means willing and supporting heart; Nosim is the name given to Oriana and means one who makes you happy all the time; Tamsyn’s, Nasha, means the one who brings rain (rain is a matter of survival here!).

They then invited us to sing and dance together and although I pride myself on having good rhythm, they just laughed at my efforts.

After the dance party it was time to head back to Nairobi as driving in the dark must be a nightmare! No real roads in this part of the rift valley, the “highway” wasn’t even paved in many parts and then once you arrive in Nairobi the traffic is crazy as there are 4 lanes of traffic where there are only 2 designated lanes and no traffic lights or street lights.

Although a long drive, it will be a day not to be forgotten!

[enhyupn]

the perfect date! chapter one

masterlist | next

a series in which enhypen’s 02s competitive side shines through when trying to get your attention. the only solution to end this tiring rivalry? three dates with each of them in the course of three weeks.

paring: 02s x gn!reader

word count: 3k

genre: fluff, angst, high school!au, someone’s gonna end up heartbroken

warnings: swearing, violence is mentioned

ask to be on taglist, updates are irregular

a/n i literally had to dig this out of my drafts so i don’t even know myself what i’ve written PLSSS

taglist: @dchannie17 @simluvbot @jaeyuni @neocrush

falling in love at the age of twelve wasn’t what you were expecting while learning basic algebra. being heartbroken at the age of thirteen while reciting shakespeare was also not as expected. the cause of both of these unforgettable moments? park jongseong, or otherwise known as jay to almost everyone around you. your first love was something that stuck with you, even in the present. he was your seat mate in three of your classes and the person you would ask for the homework right before it’s due date. it was a one sided crush, it was quite obvious to you. he was popular, sporty and incredibly talkative, you were one out of maybe twenty people that had a huge bulging crush on him. 

at age fourteen you vowed to forget about him, the previous year he had moved to america to improve his english abilities which had put you in a miserable mood for almost all of your middle school life. who else was supposed to give you the math homework? how were you supposed to feel excited to go to school when jay wasn’t going to be there? your barely-a-teen mindset made you think you were never going to get over him.

flashing forward to freshmen year of high school, new school, new class and a clean slate to basically pretend you were a completely different person. no more being dependent on other people! no more trying to do anything to get friends! no more—

“hi, my name’s jake” oh boy.

and that’s how jake sim entered your life. it was his australian accent peaking through his words as he flashed you an energetic smile that pulled you in. you could of fallen for him at that instance, well you could of fallen for him throughout your years of friendship but the returning thought of your first love entirely stopped that process. jake sim was like a breath of fresh air, he was everywhere you went and had your back for everything.

you were his best friend and you thought of him like one too, you two were practically glued to one another. of course you had side comments, gossip that the two of you were dating or one of you two had an one sided crush (the latter part of that sentence we aren’t going to get that much into) but it didn’t make you two feel awkward or anything like that. with jake you almost forgot about jay (algebra and shakespeare being the things that stimulates the memory of him). although it wasn’t like jake was a rebound, you think yourself you’ve felt happier when you were around jake. i mean jake’s definitely popular, rivalling jay’s popularity in middle school even. if you asked anyone in your school who they’ve had a crush on, jake sim is number one on that list. he had some type of air around him, always being incredibly positive, he quite literally radiated the colour yellow. maybe you had a type when it came to people you associated with.

the close second on that list was maybe the complete opposite to jake in terms of their public image to the school. park sunghoon was the class president in your class. academically gifted, popular with the female population in your school, a talented figure skater, a stereotypical cold and distant beauty, there were a lot of layers to sunghoon. you personally had never really talked to him, the only time being when he had dropped papers on the ground in the hallways, maybe a few months ago. you helped him pick them up before carrying them with him to the teacher’s staff room. even then, you two had barely shared any words during that whole incident besides a “thank you”.

still, you could say you respected sunghoon. i mean who could have the energy to do his whole schedule besides him? you definitely could not. plus the way he was one of the most popular bachelors added to his busy schedule. the most recent valentine’s day was the proof as well as it was record breaking in your terms of your classes history with the day. having jake and sunghoon meant there were a lot of people trying to confess their feelings entering your classroom. last year, jake was stopped twenty three times the whole day, beating out sunghoon’s twenty sudden confessions. this year, there a sudden decline in jake’s confessions, a whopping three people only expressing their feelings desperately to him as he politely declined. sunghoon’s number rose by about ten people, expected but still a little shocking.

it wasn’t like the two of them cared about it, the only thing they did care about though was being polite when rejecting people. you couldn’t really sympathise with jake or sunghoon whenever they had to prepare yet another rejection, the only confession you’ve received being from yoon hyunsuk that was quite awkward considering he was a family friend and you saw him almost every week after you had rejected him.

anyways, returning to present time where you were doing your regular daily routine for a weekday. it always went waking up way too early, under eating breakfast in hopes to get the bus on time, meeting jake on the bus, walking to class with him and trying to not fall asleep in the middle of math class. it started off completely normal, maybe a little too normal.

“did you hear?” jake whispered in your ear. the two of you were supposed to individually practice questions but the chattery side of jake honestly got the best of him at moments like these.

“what is it?” you reply back quietly.

“a transfer student is coming in after lunch ends, one from america” now that really got your attention. you turn to him with your eyes wide in surprise, curiosity taking over you completely as you ignore the difficult question in front of you.

“did you see them?” jake couldn’t help but feel the sudden heat rush to his face as your sparkling eyes met his. “how do you even know this?”.

“ryujin told me plus, i saw a bit of him at the principal’s office” you looked behind him, trying to get a glimpse of the mentioned girl. the concentrated look on her face as she tried to solve the maths problem was evidence to you that she hadn’t heard her name being mentioned by jake. “said something about bleached hair that was definitely going to get the teachers mad”.

“now you got me excited” your small smile only sending butterflies to his stomach. you turn your head back down to face the still blank piece of paper, deciding that it was about time you started on that question.

“y’know he kinda looked familiar” the questioning tone in jake’s voice caught your attention, turning back to him in confusion.

“what do you mean?” a pout formed on your face. more confusion took over your face when you realised jake looked away from you quite fast, his ears turning a slight shade of pink.

“i— i don’t know” he silently cursed himself for letting himself fall deeper into his one sided crush from only small moments. his sudden black mind caused him to forget what he was meant to say to you, only leaving you puzzled by his words.

jake sitting opposite to you as you ate your unsettlingly warm sandwich, was really the only thing really going on during lunch that say. although weirdly enough, park sunghoon’s glances and staring was a new addition to your lunch time. even without directly looking at him, you could feel his eyes as they dug into the back of your head.

“you know you can relax, sunghoon’s not gonna bite you” jake commented on your stiffness. you bit your lip anxiously when you realised how loud he was being, not wanting sunghoon to know he was currently the topic of conversation between the two of you.

“if you speak any louder he might hear you” you angrily whispered to his face as you rolled your eyes. the boy chuckled before placing a small ball of rice into his mouth.

“he won’t idiot” jake tells you with maybe little too much confidence. you noticed that sunghoon had looked away from you abruptly, his cheeks visibly reddening as he faced his desk. “oh”.

“why are you like this?” you expressed you concerns. jake shrugged his shoulders, not understanding where you were coming from. “i should be excited for the new student, not trying to tame you from embarrassing our class president!”, your voice lowering at the last few words.

“i think he wants to tell you something”

“i think i want you to shut up” you muttered and you took another bite from your sandwich, wincing at the warm tomato and soggy lettuce that came into contact with your mouth.

jake was about to fire back but was only stopped by your phone violently vibrating on the table. your eyes widen in embarrassment as you frantically tried to get to it. you turn your phone to look at the screen, a notification telling you someone was calling you. jake tried to take a peek at your phone, only abandoning the plan when he saw you glare at him.

“hey yeojin” a small smile forming on your lips when reciting your middle school friend’s name. im yeojin was your best friend up until high school when her parents made her go to an all girls boarding school instead of your co-ed high school. she hated it so much when it was initially brought up by them but from the looks of it now, she’s actually enjoying herself. yeojin was the only person, excluding jake, that ever knew about your crush on jay. jake found out when the two of you were looking through old middle school pictures, you pointed at jay in a class photo and that’s the story on how jake knows about jay’s existence. “what’s up?”.

“i’m not supposed to be on my phone” her voice was frantic. you knew from her many, many letters that her school was strict when it came to personal phones. she was only allowed it everyday for thirty minutes during lunch on the weekdays, three hours on the weekends. “but, i have some exciting news for you”.

“what is it?” jake could see your eyes glisten in curiosity. he chuckled to himself as he placed his chin in his palm, his full attention being placed onto you.

“guess”

“i can’t believe you’re doing this right now” you squinted in annoyance at her playfully attitude.

“i was kidding” yeojin’s contagious laugh caught up to you, making it look like you forgot about her joke on you. “but you know how you’re old instagram account got deleted because of—”

“don’t say it” you interrupted through gritted teeth. jake laughed loudly at your reaction, catching the attention of sunghoon yet again.

“anyways, and you basically lost all of our middle school classes handles?”

“yes, i remember it all a little too well” embarrassment laced through your words as you remembered the never-to-be-mentioned-again memory.

“anyways so jay...” your eyes lit up at the mention of his name, an unsettling feeling in jake’s stomach appearing due to your expression. “he’s back!”.

“he’s back?” you stood up from your seat in surprise. your class looked at you in concern before you apologised as you embarrassing lowered yourself down to your seat. “you’re not kidding me right?”.

“why would i lie?” you could feel yeojin’s eyes rolling through the phone. “oh shit, patrol’s back. gotta go, i’ll send a letter soon—”

jake watched as you ended the call staying seated with your eyes widened, unable to process what had happen. you couldn’t pinpoint any of the emotions you were feeling, were you happy? anxious? scared? you had no clue. you bite your lip, hoping the action can help your blank mind.

“so—”

“is this 3-A?” a loud voice entering the class interrupted jake, causing the boy to sigh out of frustration.

you turned your head in the direction. you felt yourself shake in more shock when you realised who the person at the entrance was, and from the way they looked back at you, he realised who you were to. you abruptly looked away, facing the window on your left with your face burning up as you held up a hand to cover your face.

jake’s puzzled expression took over his face before putting the pieces together. his heart was beating at such a fast rate that he felt breathless, he didn’t think he was at all ready to see his crush’s first love entering their own classroom.

he watched as sunghoon did his usual mannerly class president thing, standing up from his seat all professional and kind before making his way to jay with an open hand for him to shake.

“hello, you’re earlier than expected” sunghoon smiled, unsure if it was genuine or not due to the fact the boy in front of him didn’t even acknowledge his presence. he dropped his hand before letting out a quiet irritated sigh, trying to figure out what he had his eyes on.

even with sunghoon’s growing annoyed expression, jay’s eyes were still trained on you. it was like you were frozen, no muscle in your body allowed you to move as you blankly stared outside the window. the only thing moving was your eyes shutting completely as you felt footsteps coming your way, instantly knowing who it belonged to.

“y/n” a cheery voice made it’s way to jay’s words.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow at the two of you, not entirely following this whole situation. how did he know you? why did you seem so embarrassed? bashful even? and why was jake staring at jay like he just killed his family?

“j-jay hey, y-you’re back” you finally turned your head, however still unable to look at him in the eyes. jay chuckled at the way you tripped over your words, memories of the two of you from middle school playing in his head. he glanced down beside you, the empty seat almost begging him to sit there.

you almost feel yourself jump into your seat when you noticed jay was pulling back the chair beside you as he prepared himself to sit down. at this point jake’s face was visibly red, glaring at jay for reasons that cannot be exactly explained and sunghoon’s feet had even brought him all the way to your desk meaning he had a full view of this whole mess. you four had the whole classes attention, even with some whispering to each other about you. 

“it’s been a while” jay smiled through his words as he sat down, his position facing you as you struggled to make eye contact. you could feel yourself sweating from the unbearable heat coming from your cheeks, your head still blank unable to think properly.

“you two know each other?” sunghoon asked curiously as he placed his hand on his hip. you don’t know why but you cursed sunghoon silently in your head for asking that question, the thought of jay telling him you were only his friend pained you.

“yeah, middle school classmates” jay finally acknowledged the boy’s presence. sunghoon nodded in reply as he scanned your expression, unable to understand how you were feeling. “i had— i can’t say it it’s too embarrassing actually” jay rubbed his neck embarrassingly before turning away in embarrassment, only for his eyes to meet jakes.

“no, carry on” jake’s few words came out as a little passive aggressive but didn’t particularly offend jay in any way. it was quite obvious to everyone but you that jake was being a little jealous, possessive maybe from the way he glared at jay and sunghoon, who frankly didn’t really do anything up until this point.

“oh okay...” jay didn���t know why he felt nervous. maybe it was cause jake couldn’t keep his glare off of him or he was about to regret his next few words. “i had the biggest crush on y/n”.

now that got your attention. with wide eyes your eyes made contact with his at last, his cheeks were tinted pink and he had a bashful smile spread across his lips. you could even see jake in the corner of your eyes closing his mouth as he tried to recover from the shock. while sunghoon, who was right behind jay, looked like he wasn’t completely over the shocking revelation.

“i—” you felt speechless. this was the first time you’ve heard anything about this, you didn’t even think you were ever going to hear those words. you once again tried to open your mouth in an attempt to reply but was just met with nothing.

“they didn’t like me back though” jay continued. you looked at him like he was crazy, your eyebrows raised with confusion taking over your face.

“but i—”

“y/n can we talk....” jake’s voice interrupting your soon to be confession as he stared at you with a serious expression. you turned to him, once again not fully processing this whole situation. “...outside the classroom?”.

you glanced back to jay who looked visibly irritated, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. sunghoon just stood behind him, staring at jake with what looked to be some sort of fear. letting out a sigh, you stood up from your seat as you looked jake in the eyes.

“let’s go outside jake” you were slightly thankful for his sudden request due to you not wanting to be stuck in that suffocating environment. you watched as he stood up from his seat, his expression changing into quite an anxious one.

the curiosity didn’t leave you as you followed jake out of the classroom, you even heard your classmates whisper to each other as you passed them. you didn’t even want to look back to see the face of jay, you had ended your long awaited reunion short just to go talk to your best friend by the staircase. jake glanced around the area to make sure nobody was there to listen to what he had to say.

“thanks for getting me out of there—”

“i like you” those three words almost made you faint on the spot.

was it time to wake up now?

[high-supernatural]

Rituals

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 2136

Warnings: typical tvd themes, S.Assault mentions/details, sex scene, they cut each other’s hands again

Summary: V finds a way to figure out what she is but it involves a sex ritual, Kai volunteers... sort of.

***since y’all like the one shots better than the series, I’m gonna write one shots for female readers under the name V for what I would’ve/will write in the series... read the series masterlist for any of this to make sense, lol***

As the weeks went on, V and Kai basically went back to normal. Kai was a little more stand-offish with pushing physical boundaries even though he knew that V didn’t know the real story.

She went back to obsessing over reading occult books to figure out why she had the abilities she was born with while they both spent their days watching movies while she recovered.

A month had passed until she found something.

Kai had been sitting on the couch as she sat at the desk, “Kai, I think I finally found something,” she said lost in thought.

“What’s the theory?”

“Well, it’s not a theory, it’s a method to see for myself, it’s like an astral projection,” she read, “it says ‘what is needed for a ritual to success is two negatively charged vibrations, energy in the form of a black flame, this symbol, and a mix of the two souls,’”

“Again, in English,” Kai sassed.

V let out a sigh, “it’s basic sex magic,” Kai’s eyes widened, and he looked away from her direction, “I spent all this energy searching and I could’ve found out through a basic sex magic ritual,” she sat back in her chair mildly disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, now all you have to do is trick somebody into some freaky sex romp,” he mumbled.

She paused before asking, “would I have to trick you?”

He looked back over at her with light eyes unsure of what to say, so she asked again with more infliction, “would I have to trick you?”

Kai stumbled on his words, “uh, I—, uh…”

V got up from the desk and went to sit by him, “awh, are you nervous,” she teasingly asked.

“No… it’s just, why me?”

“You’re a witch, you know the game, you’re probably the only one who won’t freak out about being proposed some sex magic sacrifice,” V looked at him for a second, “so would you,” she placed her hand on his forearm.

“What would we have to do?” he asked.

“It says to lay the symbol on the ground big enough for the two people, light a few black candles, say some words, mix a bit of our blood together… then get to it and close our eyes, supposedly it’s supposed to let both of us see into our souls.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Kai questioned. He felt uneasy with the idea, knowing that she wouldn’t even be worrying about this stuff if she had known the real story of what had happened weeks before.

“Then I guess you have a new ‘date from hell’ story to tell,” she smiled.

She knew he was nervous because he never asked so many questions. She figured it was the same emotions you get on a first date, jittery, clammy hands… so they decided to head to the store and come back with supplies.

V laid down a sheet on the floor and spray painted the symbol onto it so it had some time to dry. Kai stood and watcher her silently until she noticed him, “what,” she asked smiling, “nothing,” he looked away and sat down to get everything else out of the bag.

She sat the can down on the dresser and sat by him, noticing he was avoiding looking at her when she could see him.

“Why you so nervous,” she asked, “are you a virgin or something?”

His eyes twitched open wider, not expecting her to be so blunt with the question, “I mean, I’m sure there’s another way to do this,” he started.

“So you are,” she teased, nudging his arm playfully.

“I just don’t want you to regret anything,” he looked down.

“Why would I? If it doesn’t work then we saw each other naked, not a big deal. If it does work then I might have any sort of clue about what I am, I think it’s worth it, but if you don’t want to…” Kai interrupted, “no, I do if you do… I’m just nervous I guess,” he trailed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he muttered and scooted closer to her, trailing his fingers up his arm to cup her cheek, gazing down into her eyes in a way that made her feel like she was experiencing love for the first time all over again.

“You should kiss me for doing this for you though,” he whispered.

Her breath was too taken away for her to respond with words, instead choosing to close the gap between them with a passionate kiss lasting a minute before pulling away.

“Let’s do this,” Kai said, breaking the silence.

-----

V got up and arranged the candles in their appropriate spots before lighting them.

She leaned to grab Kai’s hand and pull him slightly, “ok, now get on the symbol and say the words.”

They stood in front of each other holding hands repeating the chant before they both lowered to sit on their knees.

“Now I cut your hand and you cut mine,” V spoke softly before cutting Kai’s hand and giving him the knife to cut hers.

She interlocked their fingers, “say the words again,” they looked into each other’s eyes and spoke, feeling the energy in the room shift as the candle flames blew rapidly.

“We both have to be 100% naked, by the way,” she teased as if she left that part out before her smirk went away and she pulled him into another kiss.

Her hand slid up his shirt to feel his chest and signal for him to remove it before it trailed down to his belt to unbuckle it.

Kai rested his hand respectfully on her knee with the other on her arm that cupped his face. He avoided telling her he was a virgin earlier when she asked, thinking she’d find somebody else like he had suggested. His whole body felt on fire waiting for her to tell him what to do.

She guided his hand that was on her knee to above her shorts for him to unbutton before guiding him to lay down.

He watched attentively as she slid out of her shorts on her way to placing both legs on either side of his, straddling him.

Again, he waited for her to tell him what to do. She leaned down to kiss him for a small moment before moving her lips to his neck, guiding his hand up the side of her thigh and the other up the front of her other thigh.

V took her lips from his neck and sat up to remove her sweatshirt, exposing that she hadn’t been wearing anything underneath it. Now Kai truly felt on fire, as if he was experiencing love for the first time like she did when he kissed her. He didn’t wait for her to guide him before he trailed his hand up her torso, leaving the other one to squeeze that curve where the hip meets the thigh.

His eyes were glued to her breasts until his hand grazed across one and up to her neck, pulling her back down to kiss him and finding one hand in her hair as the other explored her back and thigh.

Her hand reached down his stomach and into his unbuckled pants to feel him through the fabric of his boxers as her lips moved to nibble his ear and kiss down his neck again.

Kai unintentionally squeezed the parts where his hands laid when she moved her hand underneath his boxers and took him into her hand, pumping at an extremely slow pace before he pulled his pants down so he was fully exposed.

The tenseness in his body and expression of desperation on his face grew more evident when she sat up with her hands on his chest and grinded her core onto his with the pressure of a feather. He squeezed her arms again, “relax,” she whispered, trailing her fingers from his biceps to his hands, interlocking them after pushing them to rest above his head and leaning to kiss him again.

For the first time in a long time, Kai was frozen without knowing what to do in a situation. He was letting her take control.

V slid her panties to the side and aligned them before sliding all the way down onto him, placing her hand back onto his.

“You good?” is the last thing Kai heard before she started slowly bouncing up and down onto him.

After that, neither of them was in the room their bodies were in. They awoke out of their bodies in a forest place that was comfortably and eerily dark at the same time. Kai looked at her before he realized she wasn’t next to him anymore.

He called out her name with no response before seeing a large shadow dart across the room from the corner of his eye. He followed it and was met with a large gold-trimmed mirror leaning against a tree. There was something off about the mirror. He gazed into it, trying to make out what was so different about the way he looked before a large, frightening creature popped into the mirror.

Kai jumped back and stared at it. It had a large animal skull for a head with large, gnarly teeth and huge antlers, its body was covered from the neck down in a cloak, and its hands were shaped like a human’s hands, but they were discolored with long, sharp nails.

He looked at this creature in awe before it whispered in distorted breaths, “you…the chosen pair…”

Kai spoke anxiously, “what? What do you mean? What are you talking about?” He had never encountered anything like this, especially not this size.

The creature let out another distorted whisper and grabbed him, “protect her,” it said intimidatingly.

Kai and V both woke back in their bodies, out of breath and not in the positions they started in. Kai was now on top of her, and they were moaning like it was the last time they’d ever see each other as they both orgasmed at the same time before processing what they saw on the other side.

V threw her head back, digging her nails into Kai’s hair as he buried his face in her neck and rode them both out.

Before either of them had come down, V spoke frantically, “what the fuck was that” she pulled his face to look at her, “did you see that?!” in reference to the other side.

She stood up before Kai could get off her and put her sweatshirt on to sit at the desk and open her laptop. Kai sighed and pulled his pants and boxers back up before walking over to her.

“We’ve been gone for an hour and a half…” she said.

“No way, that had to have been five minutes, tops,” he responded dumbfounded.

“Check the time… an hour and a half on the dot…” she paused to analyze his puzzled facial expressions, “Kai what did you see?”

He scratched the back of his head, “I uh… we were in this forest,” she watched him attentively, “it was pretty dark, you disappeared, then I saw this gold mirror and this creature stood in it,” she interrupted him, “what did it look like?”

She started typing to document what they had seen, “it had an animal head with horns, wearing a black cloak, long hands…it was gigantic…” she interrupted again, typing without looking at him, “did it say anything?”

“It said something about me, then it said, ‘chosen pair’, and told me ‘protect her’,” he imitated the creepy way it spoke.

V glanced up at him and said nothing before looking back at her screen to type.

Kai sat at the desk across from her, “anyways, what’d you see,” he asked.

She glanced at him before typing again, “I don’t know. It all looked like a bad acid trip. One minute I was standing next to you…” she stopped and looked at him again before closing her laptop screen so she could see his full face, “it told you chosen pair?”

Kai shook his head, and she squinted her eyes in confusion and wonder, “did you look at me before we lost each other?” Kai shook his head no.

“We had a tie to each other… like a…” she struggled to find her words, so she drew a picture instead, “like this… it was like a red chord that extended into both of our chests… and then right after I saw it, something took me through like a tour of the matrix of the universe…” she explained.

Kai looked at her like she was actually on acid now. “It told me I could control all of it, then I came back…”

[okay-j-hannah]

That’s My Wife

Harry Potter : Fic

Charlie x Reader

Word Count: 3049

Warnings: SEXY TALK! Charlie is just all over you and your quidditch uniform 😂 Also I know I keep using different gifs for Charlie fics... I just look up ‘hot ginger man’ and pick one I like 🥰

Request: “Hey could I have a story where you are Charlie Weasleys wife and a professional quidditch player? In goblet of fire when they go to the world cup instead of Ireland vs Krum it's your team versus Krum and Charlie is so proud to have Weasley on your uniform and is showing you off to everyone and idk I really just think of Charlie as a very proud guy but humble. Thanks so much!” - Anon

A/N: There’s nothing quite like having your husband be your biggest supporter, especially with the Quidditch World Cup fast approaching

Shifting beneath the covers, (Y/N) sighed as her brain began to wake up. There were a number of thumps happening outside their bedroom and she groaned.

“Charlie?”

Thankfully, a hand came sneakily around her waist, pulling her to him, “What’s the point of apparating if we don’t even get to sleep in?”

“They’re excited,” (Y/N) replied in a quiet voice, keeping her eyes closed as she turned towards her husband, “And people are a bit careless when they’re tired.”

Footsteps could be heard going down the creaky stairs and (Y/N) peered behind Charlie to see that the moon was still basking their window. It had to have been nearly daybreak for the others to be up and about.

“I’ll have to get ready anyway,” she mumbled, resting back into Charlie’s embrace, “The team wants to do warmups and standard procedure before the majority of the crowds…”

Charlie suddenly held her tighter, silencing her with a grin, “Later, sweetheart – I won’t be able to see you all day. I want to hold you for a little while before you fly off.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that escape her with him cradling her against his chest. Though the World Cup was hours away, she knew her captain wouldn’t let her out of his sight until the game started. With the narrow win England made to be entered into the cup, there was immense pressure to deliver a swift and skillful victory for the team.

Being the rising star of “Quidditch Weekly,” there was a lot on (Y/N)’s shoulders to carry the team. It was that thought that began to swell within her when a sudden shout came from downstairs.

“George! What is that in your pocket?”

Charlie laughed low in his throat, his grisly morning voice doing it justice, “Looks like mum found those joke shop toffees.”

“Nothing!”

“Don’t you lie to me!”

(Y/N) took a deep breath, allowing Charlie’s natural scents relax her; worn leather, old newspaper, rain-soaked grass. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do without him giving her pep talks between penalty shots and time outs.

More than anything she wished he could be on the grounds with the referees instead of up in the stands.

With the anxiety filling her up as it usually did before a big game, she reached for his hand wrapped around her. Lacing their fingers together, she could feel him lean into her neck and plant a kiss behind her ear.

“You’re going to be incredible, sweetheart.”

She sighed into a smile, closing her eyes once more and allowing a few more moments of peace.

“Accio! Accio! Accio!” Came from downstairs, and she laughed out loud that time.

~~~

The sun crept higher and higher as the team lay on the pitch, doing stretches. Their captain Edric Vosper was pacing along the team benches.

“England hasn’t been a part of the Quidditch World Cup since 1981,” he intertwined his fingers in front of him, “And with us scraping that win against Transylvania last month… there’s too much at stake.”

“We know, Vosper,” came the voices of some of (Y/N)’s best friends – the beaters of the team, Dawn and Indira.

“We’ve had this same speech at every practice since that win,” (Y/N) added, smirking and straightening her arm braces, “I’m not sure there’s much else you can say to prepare us.” Her fellow chasers Avery and Keaton snickered behind their hands.

Vosper seemed at a loss of a comeback, finally sitting on one of the benches, “You’re right, of course. I just had a talk with Ludo Bagman and have basically every coin in my account betted for England being the winning team.”

“Why would you do that?” Dawn cried, slumping onto the grassy ground, “I’m worried enough about the game without knowing you’ll be broke if we lose.”

“And will probably have to crash at my place for the rest of the year,” Avery rolled his eyes.

Vosper put his face in his hands and took a deep breath, making the team all refrain from smiling sarcastically. (Y/N) stood and folded her arms, leaning forward slightly to speak.

“I say we take a break before the match starts – go enjoy some time with our families until the whistle blows.”

Keaton flexed his fingers, “Yeah, if I have to practice another quaffle pass I pretty sure my fingertips will snap.”

The team all laughed, evidently trying to make it as lighthearted as possible with the amount of pressure all nestled on their shoulders. (Y/N) secretly believed that a pep talk from all their close friends and family would motivate and improve the teams morale.

But she also knew that if she voiced that much of her opinion, then the players would just tease her about becoming the next great captain for the team. And she was too good of friends with Edric to make him doubt the authority of his position.

“Hey, guys, we’ve been practicing every day for weeks,” Indira stated, pulling a knee to her chest for a stretch. “Maybe enjoying our last meal with our families would relieve some stress.”

“Why are you saying it like we’ve all got death sentences? Our last meal?” Avery laughed, leaning over to push her away playfully.

She shrugged her shoulders, “Way to improve the mood, Hawksworth.”

The rest of the team laughed again, waiting for Vosper to lift his head from his hands. When he did he focused his attention to the opposing team across the quidditch pitch. The brutal Bulgarian team was conducting a number of routines with quaffle passes and snitch spotting.

They donned scarlet robes with black and gold lettering, which reminded (Y/N) of her Gryffindor house back at Hogwarts. It made her frown to see them arrogantly flashing those colors as they sped on their similarly tinted Firebolts.

Peering down at her own uniform, she relished in the bright white and complementary cherry red accents. The proud emblem of golden dragons blazoned the front and brought a fiery desire to beat Bulgaria with every bit of will power she had.

“I think we are over exhausting ourselves,” Vosper concluded, resting his elbows on his knees. “How about this – you all are free to do whatever you please until the match, as long as you deliver the Rowntree Counter.” He stared pointedly at (Y/N), saying, “If we can execute that as perfectly as you did with Transylvania, we’ll have this game in the bag.”

With slight hesitation, she gulped and nodded. She knew there were scouts in the crowd, recruiters that were looking for talent. If she could make a spotlight of their team, they could go far in quidditch history.

It was this thought that dwelled with her as she left the pitch and made her way through the crowds to find the tent grounds the Weasley’s had rented.

She quickly found herself distracted by numerous fans; now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, she could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. She made her way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around.

Many of the campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children; a tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami.

“Excuse me, miss,” came a timid voice nearby, “Are you (Y/N) Weasley?”

She turned her shoulder and saw a young girl and boy standing on their tip toes and wringing their hands excitedly.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me.”

“The chaser for England’s National team?” the boy added on, somewhat disregarding her previous response.

(Y/N) peered down at her uniform and shrugged her shoulders, “I’m pretty sure that’s what my robes say.”

There was a squeal behind her, and then another and another. Whispers, then shouts, began appearing all around her as exclamations said:

“Is that…?”

“Mum! It’s the England chaser!”

“She was on the cover of Quidditch Weekly yesterday.”

“Do you think I could get a signature?”

“Wait… (Y/N) Weasley?”

“I don’t have a quill… would she mind using my body paint?”

And it was twenty minutes before she was able to extract herself from the growing crowd. She had signed robes, arms, books, tents, and English flags with everything from paint to lipstick. There was even a little girl that bought a miniature figurine of (Y/N) that padded along her palm, even laughing the same full body laugh that (Y/N) usually did, which she signed the back of.

She had to apologize to everyone as she pushed through, saying she’d like to get to her family before the day was through. It didn’t stop the stares, gasps, and waves, but she was grateful for not being followed as closely anymore.

A short way farther on, she saw two little witches, who were riding toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for the girls’ toes to skim the dewy grass. Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents to claim a breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldn’t work.

As she neared the other side of the fields, she noticed the colors changing drastically from black and scarlet to white and cherry. This new patch of tents were all covered with thick clusters of dragon themed décor; blue, red, and white flags flew all around the campers. Dragon kites, dragon statues, dragon emblems, dragon puppets, and even dragon hide was covering most other surfaces.

It really showed the loyalty, as well as the increase of more fans trying to get her attention. One began waving a moving poster of herself crossing her arms and smiling broadly. But just beyond she noticed the exact family she was looking for.

“Charlie!”

One of the redheads sitting around the morning fire stood and whipped around to see who was calling for him. When he spotted his beloved, he called out, urging her forward.

The nearer she got, she noticed that it wasn’t just the Weasley’s, Harry, and Hermione – Ludo Bagman and Mr. Barty Crouch were there too.

“I thought you were going to be on the pitch all day!” Charlie cried, reaching her and pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until after the game.”

She giggled happily as he lifted her enough that she was on her toes, “We convinced Vosper that we could use a break to gather our senses.” She nuzzled into his shoulder as they continued to hold each other close – that calming smell of rainfall and old, weathered book pages whelmed her again.

Charlie moved a hand to the side of her face where he could direct her attention to his eyes, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

She smiled, her eyes suspicious, “Even in this sweaty updo?”

“What can I say? I can’t resist a woman in uniform.” He gave her a seductive gaze and bit his lip, leaning his forehead against hers.

She moved her hands up his torso and around his neck, sighing deep in her chest, “Not until I knock Bulgaria on their ass.”

Charlie closed his eyes and breathed deeply, “You just got a whole lot sexier.” And he practically growled as he dipped for a kiss, a hungry kiss. The intensity took (Y/N) slightly off guard, accidentally pulling a moan out of her.

“Okay, woah, woah!” came the boisterous voices of Fred and George, “Lock it up, this isn’t your honeymoon.”

They could hear Ginny laughing with Bill, and Percy was muttering things like, “Right in front of Mr. Crouch,” under his breath.

“Now, Charlie,” Mr. Weasley stated in a nervously loud tone, “We’ve got guests.”

(Y/N) had to be the one to pull away, finding her breath was taken away by the moment. Charlie grinned and waved a hand over his shoulder.

“Paparazzi,” she muttered, “We’re surrounded by witnesses.”

“It would be ridiculous to hide my feelings for you, (Y/N). Why shouldn’t the public know we have a perfectly wonderful marriage.” He held her by her shoulders, “I’m proud to have you by my side, so what if the Daily Prophet knows we kiss… guess what? We’re married!”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “Still I’d like to keep a few things… hello!” Behind Charlie’s shoulder she could see the entire Weasley family, and guests, watching them closely.

Charlie twirled around and put an arm around (Y/N), “Mr. Crouch, Ludo – may I introduce my wife, (Y/N) Weasley. THE best chaser that England has known these last few years.”

Ludo Bagman, a jolly man with rosy cheeks and a boyish charm, stood immediately and came to shake hands, “An introduction long overdue I’m sure you feel as well. You know I’ve got a pretty penny on your head to get England the win tonight.”

“Us too,” Fred yelled over the many heads, “So don’t fall off your broom.”

“Oh, you’ve seen nothing until you’ve seen (Y/N) play on the pitch,” Charlie stated, leaning towards the group, “She’s like a snitch herself, whipping through the air.”

“Yes,” agreed Ludo, “The biggest hope England has had in over a decade.”

Charlie beamed, moving his loving gaze to his wife. He simply stood there admiring the praise and talent, silently wondering how it was possible she had chosen him to be her husband.

“Thank you, Mr. Bagman,” (Y/N) replied, “Though you should look at England as the team it is – I’m just one person; it takes all of us to win the cup.”

Charlie grinned even wider if it was possible. Admiration wasn’t enough to describe how in awe he was of her. It was like she was in total denial that she was plainly the one carrying the national team. Though it was incredibly endearing and only made him more in love with the fact that she was with him.

“Oh, please, don’t neglect your talents,” Ludo exclaimed, “We all know you were the one that got the qualification from the Transylvania win!”

“Even with that illegal shot by the bludger,” Ron interjected, sneaking the rest of Hermione’s breakfast sausages, “Those scheming, biased referees.”

Bill clapped his hands together, “This is exactly the problem, if we can’t find the right people to observe the field, then what’s the point of having good players? They’ll be disregarded completely with a biased referee!”

And the family continued the conversation of the prospects of the upcoming game. Percy and Mr. Weasley tried to continue remarks with Mr. Crouch before he left and shortly followed by Bagman.

And all Charlie could do was stare at his wife and wonder… wonder how he got so lucky.

~~~

She could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; Dawn and Avery couldn’t stop grinning.

The roaring voice of Ludo Bagman could be heard magically magnified across the sea of people.

“Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. A huge blackboard opposite them showed BULGARIA: 0, ENGLAND: 0.

After a presentation of entrancing Veela and a few soaring dragon fireworks, Ludo began to announce the Bulgarian quidditch team members; next came England.

“Presenting – Vosper, Frisby, Choudry, Withey, Flitney, Hawksworth, and Weasley!”

Seven gleaming robed players came whizzing out of the stands on white golden Firebolts. The Weasley family cheered and shook their top box voraciously.  

“That’s her, that’s her!” yelled Charlie, waving his English flag and pushing into Bill and Ron. His brother followed her with his Omnioculars.

“Theeeeeeeey’re OFF!” screamed Bagman. “And it’s Weasley! Hawksworth! Flitney! Dimitrov! Back to Weasley! Hawksworth! Levski! Flitney!”

The speed of the players was incredible – the chasers were throwing the quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Charlie reached over to fight Ron’s Omnioculars off him but failed as he heard the name Weasley again.

The chasers had fallen into their Rowntree Counter, their signature move. They flew into a straight dive as red, white, and blue colors came streaming out of the back of their brooms – signifying the flag of the United Kingdom.

They knocked two of the opposing Bulgarian players teetering on their brooms and distracted the beaters. Flitney passed the quaffle to Hawksworth, who kicked it around before passing it back to Weasley.

(Y/N) did a magnificent overhead kick into the hoop on the far left.

“WEASLEY SCORES!” roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. “Ten zero to England!”

Charlie jumped and waved his arms, screaming himself hoarse, “THAT’S MY WIFE! WEASLEY IS MY WIFE!”

Bill reached over and stuffed his UK flag over Charlie’s face to shut him up, and Ginny laughed, giving him her white and red rosette.

(Y/N) did a lap of honor around the field and threw a kiss towards the top box where Charlie waved his hands toward her, “I love you, baby!”

The England chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another’s minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette now on Charlie’s chest kept squeaking their names: “Flitney – Weasley – Hawksworth!” And within ten minutes, England had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the white-clad supporters.

Charlie watched as (Y/N) performed miraculous moves toward the goal posts. The continuous overhead kicks, the usage of the butt-end of her broom like a beater bat, and the intense throw of her arm was mesmerizing.

Charlie yelled and screamed until his face turned red, shouting his praise for his wife. The other members in the top box had to accept the fact that Charlie wasn’t going to shut up about his incredible player on the field.

It was just a continuous strain of, “THAT’S MY WIFE!” with a splendid look of pride and admiration on his cheery face.

“WEASLEY IS MY WIFE!”

~~~

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000 @aria253264 @bippity-boppity-boopa @andreasworlsboring101 @oncemorewithfeelingg

Remember to check out my tag list so you’re updated when a fic you like is posted on my blog! Tag List

[elenyafinwe]

Break the binary

Let’s first talk about the German SFF book market, because it’s different from the English market. Even to this day, late 2021, it’s very conservative, white and heteronormative both context wise and author wise. Especially the big puplisher still don’t dare to break out of that conservative concept and what we have in diverse literature is either translated mostly from American writers or found in small, independend publishers (such as Art Skript Phantastik Verlag, Verlag Ohneohren, Chaos Pony Verlag ect.). It’s so different because the English market is soooo much bigger. They can risk many little flopps, while they still have BIG names like Brandon Sanderson or George Martin bringing in the money, and from time to time a diverse story like Iron Widow or The Poppy War still skyrockets. That are the moments, we get diverse stories from big German publishers as well.

There are many projects to make marginalised authors more visible, especially in Sicence Fiction. There is this very weird phenomenon, that we seem to have exactly one (1) science fiction author in Germany, and that is Andreas Eschbach, who gets all the prizes. Almost every time. Especially the Kurd-Laßwitz-Preis.

Just a little statistics to illustrate the problem:

Source

[Image desc: An info graphic illustrating German SF prices since 1980 (publication year). Red human figures represent female writers, blue male writers and orange is Eschbar alone. Kurd Laßwitz Price best novel goes to one woman, 28 men and 14x for Eschbach. Kurd Laßwitz Price for best novella goes to 6 woman, 40 men and 1 time to Eschbach. Kurd Laßwitz price best short story goes to 1 woman and 14 men. German Science Fiction Price Novel goes to 3 women, 31 men and 4 times for Eschbach. German Science Fiction Price short story goes to 3 women, 34 men and  1 time for Eschbach. /id]

That obviously doesn’t illustrate the reality on the book market, there are much more women than those 14 here. And Eschbach alone won 17 prices ..........

Many projects try to make marginalised authors more visible, like #FrauenZählen (women count/count women) and #phantastischeFrauen (phantastic women). Frauen (women), always. Many projects actually mean: “We only make white cis women more visible.” The newest project has a noble ideal, but the realization is lacking massively. Okay, we count women in SFF, and then? Why only women?

Judith Vogt, a nonbinary German SFF writer, is again on fire and talked about this here on tiktok.

So, #phantastischeFrauen got a bit of a backlash from the genderqueer community and their allies and the backlash got a backlash from cis persons (why just can’t you shut the fuck up).

Long story short: it is important to make marginalized persons visible against the gargantuan dominance of middle aged cis white dudes. Genderqueer and trans people almost every time have to point out that, hey, we exist, too. You cis women always think only for yourself, but we want rep as well. You always talk about men and women and some obscure other stuff. In this specific case it was a project to count women and men in SFF. Some authors used a pseudonym and others were unclear, if their name belongs to a cis man or a cis woman, so they’ve put that in a third category “other”. Wow. I don’t know where I should start here.

First: Names have no gender. The fuck you where thinking you did here?!

Second: This still excludes trans and genderqueer people.

Third: This ascribes trans men privileges, they don’t have (but deserve in an ideal world). Trans men are men, yes, but they still suffer discrimination. Excluding them enforces that.

I get it, that it was a lot of work for only a few people in their free time. I understand this. But when I see that a project I started is too big for me alone, I either drop it or get myself some help. But this ... this is nothing. They even didn’t try. They just said: “Oh, sorry, this was too much work for us.”

For statistic evidence you need a certain number. If from let’s say 5000 people, 6 say, they are agender, it’s irrelevant for a statistic. But this was a project purely dedicated to counting, there every number counts. You have 10.000 people, and one says they’re genderfluid, you name that one person in the results.

So, genderqueer people were again hurt, that they were denied representation and cis people whined that, boohooo, this project was already soooo much work, we can’t demand even more from those poor heroic cis women to do more in their free time.

The fight for representation and visibility can’t sorely lie on the shoulders of the marginalized group. We already do the major part for it, every day of our life. We need cis allies to help us. We definitelly don’t need whiny cis people who deny us help because it’s so bothersome™.

What I get from all this is this: genderqueer people express their wish for representation and are hurt, when again a project denies it to them (the argument was literally that it would have been too much work, I’m not kidding). Cis people then slid in their mentions and accuse them, that they didn’t help to make the project better (which is wrong, there are currently people helping, so it is obviously possible to make it better). “If you want to see it better, make it yourself.”

This is a shitty argument. Nobody has the capacity to make everything on their own. We all have the right to wish for a better situation. I see our govenment fucking up the whole Corona situation and absolutely have every right to critique them on it without bringing forth solutions for the situation. It’s not my job to do so. Same here. I see a shitty project and have every right to critique it without managing it on my own. Damn, who has the capacies for that?! There is so much wrong in the world, I can’t do anything on my own to make it better!

But then you bring a solution like “Okay, maybe you should have searched for people to help you with that project” cis people only hear: “You’re accusing the manager of the project as lazy people!!”

Cis people, shut the fuck up.

Of course the status quo can’t stay like this, we all see that. But playing one marginalized group against another doesn’t help anyone either. Cis women, and especially white cis women, have so much more privileges as many other people. Judith said so in her above linked video. Privilege is not a binary, it’s a progression.

You know, what happens when cis women express their anger? It’s talked down as “don’t be like that” or as bitchy behaviour. This is sexism, hopefully nobody here denies that.

Now we have a project, that again makes genderqueer people invisible and said genderqueer express their anger. They wish for representation the same as cis women. Third and fourth wave feminism is intersectional feminisim. This feminism must be behond the “we only fight for cis women” state of the second wave feminism (that feminism of radfems and terfs).

What’s behind this criticism of only counting cis  women is the wish for representation from the queer community and it’s expressed through anger and frustration. While the so called feminists agree on the fact, it’s shitty to talk down a cis woman’s anger, they suddenly do the same when it comes to genderqueer representation. Those are super hypocritical double standards.

What we get, it nothing. We get a “Look, it’s at least something, don’t be like this. Stand aside and clap applause while your cis sisters empower themselves. This is better than the status quo.” For you, yes. For us it’s still nothing. Intersectional feminism includes trans. We have to break the binary. We must continue to be loud about the fact, that gender is detached from sex and above all is not a binary. But we cannot do it alone. We need the help of our cis allies.

It is no feminism, if it exclude trans.

[mamamittens]

Long Awaited LoZ Thoughts

I’d like to start this off by explaining my background. I have a BA in English with a minor in Humanities. I have lived all my life in the Bible Belt of America, so my PoV of this series is inevitably going to be, at least in part, from the perspective of a Western-centric, Christianity-influenced woman. I have grown up with a deep interest in folk tales and mythology though, and took several classes on ancient cultures, so my base knowledge of religion all over the world is broader than what you’d probably expect. I am not religious myself, I’m actually agnostic. And this is just an in-universe look at the very strange religion of Hyrule. So, to make things easier, let’s just put aside the obvious meta issues with this world. The wonky timeline, complex lore changes between said timelines, and the fact that the whole series has clearly grown wildly over the course of its development without an overarching plot. The game mechanics being game mechanics. All of it. This whole thing will just be me trying to make sense of the world without the ‘it’s just a game, bro’ crutch. I will be drawing on what I know from the many games I’ve played myself, so if I don’t mention a big piece of lore from a specific game, it’s because I didn’t play it. Go ahead and rule out the early games before Ocarina of Time, as that’s the first game in the series I can remember playing. I was legitimately too young to have ever played anything prior to that, having been born in 1996. Now let’s get started, shall we?

 So, obviously everyone knows that the LoZ world is said to begin with the three goddesses. Din, Nayru, and Farore came together to create the world and before they yote themselves out of the narrative as direct players, they created the Triforce. A powerful artifact capable of granting a wish and giving their respective bearers undefined power. This is directly from Ocarina of Time and we see their symbol, the Triforce, all over the many games with very few exceptions. Now, to be clear, having a polytheistic religion with three main gods is hardly new. Hinduism has three main gods after all (Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva), and depending on your flavor of Christianity, you have the holy trinity (God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit). There’s even the Celtic goddesses that come specifically in threes (collectively called The Morrigan; Eriu, Fodla, and Banba). This isn’t an exhaustive list of three divine beings, by the way, just know that three is a weird trend in western-centric stories, including religion. But what’s different about the three Hyrule Goddesses? Well, they’re weirdly small for big shot gods. Let me explain.

        So, the three Hindu gods I mentioned earlier each handle a specific aspect. Creation, destruction, and preservation, not necessarily in that order though (which god does what isn’t the point, so just roll with me here). These are very broad and powerful subjects. Christianity is much the same, even though it’s a monotheistic religion. God is literally an all-powerful, omniscient, omnipotent deity. Jesus is his son who gave his life to basically forgive all sin. And I’m not totally clear on the Holy Spirit, but these three are clearly Big Deals with Big Ideas behind them. A good rule of thumb for old religion is that the older the deity, the wider the scope of their job or what they represent. Which makes sense. If you had to personify the forces of the universe, you’d probably start with the sun instead of like… whatever god is responsible for the creation of rice specifically. The bigger and scarier the natural force, the bigger deal that god usually is, putting aside politics and cultural trends. Egypt is a good example of this, as their roster of gods tended to change a lot depending on who was Pharaoh at the time and wherever the city center was. Horus is the god of the sun, or at least one of them, and is generally considered king of the gods. Which makes perfect sense for a land largely made up of a desert.

But what are the three goddesses’ rulers of? Power, Wisdom, and Courage. Each with clear elemental associations and people that are obviously affiliated with them. Nayru, Goddess of Wisdom, is clearly associated with water and likely has a close connection with the Zora. Din, Goddess of Power, is associated with fire and has clear connection with the Gerudo (unclear if the same goddess as the one present in the desert temple in Ocarina of Time). Farore, Goddess of Courage, is associated with all things green and of the earth, including the child-like race of Kokiri who perpetually inhabit the forest. Sure, these are broad topics, but not really… the first thing you’d think of for creators of the universe, are they? And it raises the question about the Hyrule people, who are said to be able to hear the gods due to their pointed ears… let’s put a pin in that and move on.

So, we know there are many gods in this universe, primarily because we meet them. For example, Zephos, God of Winds, in Wind Waker. But he’s clearly a fairly forgotten god, as he shares a shrine with Cylcos, God of Cyclones, which is about as bare as it can be. Just what appears to be a Tori gate with two stone monuments with the simple notes to summon them, almost completely out of the way. Which… I mean, I don’t know many gods with their extension number written on their monuments. That would kind of like going to church on Sunday and seeing “Hit me up if you need me, J-Boy 555-TAKE THE WHEEL” written on the podium. And remember, this is a world and game where the gods actively flooded the world and would therefore hold or have held enough power to directly interfere with Hyrule.

And Skyward Sword clearly has divine beings, one of which even flooded a whole area, though they’re subservient to Hylia. Who we will get back to later, I promise. The three dragons (again, that magic number), capable of divine power, though where that power comes from in unclear. The dragons are of a high status though, as evident by their servants and clear reference to high-class dress of their clothes. These dragons are revered, but clearly not worshipped, much like nobles in that regard. A curious note is the parallels to the three goddesses, and how the symbols are muddled and mixed for these dragons.

Lanayru clearly has the symbols associated with the Zora, and by extension Nayru, but is yellow. He also is saved by time travel used to grow a magic fruit, which Link often uses (time travel) in many games to advance the plot himself (and wouldn’t you know it, but mixing blue with yellow does produce green. Weird). Faron is the water dragon who flooded an area, and she is almost entirely blue (as well as unsettling to look at), surrounded by a species clearly related to the Zora though closer to octopi. But her name is Faron, which is weirdly close to Farore’s name, not Nayru. I mean, they are close to locations that resemble their names of course, but it’s still an interesting note. Finally, there’s Eldin, clearly bearing a symbol associated with the Gerudo without any strange mixes of symbols for the series. Oddly, he’s also the most open of the three dragons, especially considering the Gerudo’s traditional stance of being a ‘no-sausage’ club. Not terribly relevant, but I just thought it was interesting to point out. You can consider the Giants in Majora’s Mask on the same level as them, though their status is unclear (Since they’re summoned by a song and can stop the moon from falling, they probably straddle the line between mortal and divine).

Now, spirits also exist in this world, both as the ghostly variety and the more pseudo-divine. Not to be confused with actual divinity. Divine being can be spirits, but not all spirits are divine. In this context, spirits can be defined more as being of power capable of granting aid in return for something. Zephos can change the winds if called upon, but you don’t need to feed him, for example. But the spirits in Twilight Princess need aid before they can help you. And they’re also not very independent and are able to be fooled easily, which isn’t usually a god-like quality. While more physically present than the three goddesses, they’re also not strictly tangible, and seem to be extremely limited to their location. At best, these spirits could be classified as minor deities below the gods we see in Wind Waker. They also share the same abilities in keeping the realm of Twilight from falling over the land of Hyrule, as well as their weakness to parasites of undetermined origin. An interesting note is that they all seem to live in bodies of water. Let’s put a pin in that one too.

Someone that also counts as a spirit would be Fi and her counterpart, Ghirahim. Literally two halves of the same coin, these two are both very limited in power and function. They don’t represent anything on their own and are very dependent on others to achieve results. How or why they were made is unclear, but it is obvious that both were forged at some point, and clearly gained sentience. Even their personalities and allegiances are a bit odd. Fi for her sci-fi appearance and calculating personality in a fantasy land, and Ghirahim for his… well, everything. I don’t know why the root of all evil would make his weapon a full-tilt diva, let alone on purpose. Ghirahim always struck me as odd since his bombastic personality seemed to clash with his ultimate fate of just being a weapon for Demise.

Okay, so the Great Fairies are weird, okay?! Like, really weird. They act as spirits (I can’t think of any that aren’t restricted to a body of water in some form), but are very independent. They also don’t necessarily need anything from Link to offer assistance. Sometimes, just opening the fairy fountain is enough to gain items needed to progress. And there’s also the fact that fairies heal you upon ‘death’, though with a limited heart capacity. Sometimes they need you to do something though, like the Breath of the Wild fairies need rupees to function or items to upgrade equipment. They also usually look human, like Majora’s Mask Great Fairies are clearly just… giant women with color coded accessories. But like, they float. Where Great Faires come from, or even just regular fairies, is unclear. Until Wind Waker, Great Faires were adults. But when you finally meet the real Great Fairy in Wind Waker it’s… a child. With a doll that looks just like the ‘Great Fairies’ you’ve seen along the way. This sort of implies that Great Fairies age and die, though clearly with a different lifetime than most races in Hyrule (the child Great Fairy also only looks somewhat human compared to other Great Fairies, so make of that what you will). And it also implies that all the adult Great Fairies are dead (you’re welcome for that depressing thought), with the last one trapped in a hollow tree only accessible by the power of a God.

In Breath of the Wild, the Great Fairies are both diminished but more powerful. They literally are stuck in a giant flower with water in it, with few fairies around them, and require riches to get stronger. The connection to their new restrictions to this need for material wealth is unclear. It’s also interesting to note that their fountains are no longer places that appear to be man-made holy temples and they seem to be out of the way… well, for a given value of ‘out of the way’ (looking at you ninja village). These fairies can accomplish more tasks, but certainly won’t be doing it for free or with minimal effort. A far cry from their first appearances (no, I don’t consider using explosives a difficult task).

But Fairies are also companions with nebulous tasks, such as in Ocarina of Time, where Tatl follows Link until the end of the game. And Kokiri have their own fairy as a sign of whatever accounts for adulthood in their race. The Skull Kid in Majora’s Mask has two fairy friends who seemed to have been either lost or abandoned. Who or what gives them purpose and life is unclear, though the Great Deku Tree from Ocarina of Time can give commands, it doesn’t seem to be something he does normally? As a side note, it’s really not clear what, if anything he can actually do. Though the relative safety of the surrounding area is clearly tied with his wellbeing in all iterations, he doesn’t seem to directly influence it, or be capable of self-defense.

Now, onto the elephant in the room! Hylia! Who the hell is this?! A more recent entry to the series, her divine roll is unclear (though she clearly guards the Triforce in some capacity). It can be assumed that she’s somehow a goddess tied directly to the Hylian people, but when she appeared is up for debate. Timeline wise, it’s almost like knowledge of her was suppressed for some reason, giving rise to the Triforce mythos we all know and love without hide or hair of her seen. We know that she favored the original Link greatly, enough to shed her divinity to be reborn as a mortal and assist him. How or why is also unclear, though it wouldn’t be unfair to assume she loved him, as divine ladies holding an affair with a mortal isn’t uncommon in mythology (or even male gods doing the same, before anyone brings up Zeus). But she makes a resurgence in Breath of the Wild, with statues and everything, with the three goddesses left to only vague references in the background. Which is super weird, though not uncommon for places like Ancient Egypt. The fact that the ruling family was literally descendant from a goddess is what makes it weird though, since any monarchy worth their salt would milk that until the peasant folk revolted and made a new religion to justify killing a god.

Zelda in every incarnation is literally descendant from the original and still held at least a fraction of that divine power. So much so that a cornerstone of a powerful religious artifact inevitably ends up in her hands (or on the back of her right hand, as it were). But what is Hylia a Goddess of? We don’t know. It’s never said. Anywhere. And that’s super weird, even for a ubiquitous deity. Sure she’s a Goddess of Hyrule but… what does that mean? That can’t be all she is? Her reincarnation is literally locked in a generational struggle against the forces of darkness! What can she do as a Goddess? Well, she makes Link stronger in return for items, but that seems to be it. In Ocarina of Time, Zelda was capable of sending Link back to the past, but that was with a magic item. And we know Hylia isn’t the Goddess of Time, because Zelda references her in Majora’s Mask (sequel to Ocarina of Time, therefore implying that there are more gods unmentioned at that time), when Hylia should be mortal or at least fragmented (because Zelda exists at the time with powers and a Triforce piece). The Guardian of Time in Hyrule Warriors also fell in love with Link before splitting into Cia and Lana (and was unable to fuse back together again), so it’s unlikely that she’s the Goddess of Time Zelda was referring to, though that detail is interesting to note. No, I will not discuss if Hyrule Warriors is canon (either game), as this is already long enough as it is.

So, that brings us to Ganon, or in his original form, Demise. Which… what’s up with that? Who is this guy? He directly opposes the gods and just… gets away with it! Repeatedly! Sure, he loses most of the time, but still. It’s unclear where Demise came from, or even what he is, though judging by Ghirahim’s ‘Demon Lord’ title, it can be assumed that he is some type of demon himself. And that the many monsters we see are also considered demons, which makes sense with how they always work for Demise (or his many iterations) in some form or another. Considering how much it takes to simply seal him away, he can’t be just a demon though.

        Demise obviously pulled the same trick Hylia did, which directly sets him up as a counterpart to her, but what does it mean? Why would he do that? What is Demise that he can’t be beat with the power of a Goddess alone and needs not only a brave knight but a blade literally made to counter him? Within the context of religion, the best guess I can make is that he’s some form of a God of Darkness, possibly also Temptation, Greed, and Pigs Corruption. It fits within the narrative since power is often the strongest form of temptation and we know that demons capable of opposing the gods exist. The Horned Statue literally takes Hylia’s blessings in exchange for wealth, and was turned into a statue for it. What it stands to gain from any of it is unclear, but interestingly enough, Hylia doesn’t mind that it closely resembles her own statues. So, this raises the question… why isn’t Demise a forgotten statue somewhere along a dusty road? How did he curse(?) both a reborn goddess and a human in an eternal struggle for the fate of Hyrule?

        Being a god is about the only explanation for why he can do the things that he does. It explains why, in every incarnation, he ends up a rule (like Zelda). How he controls so many different species with ease. He corrupts the conflicted as easily as breathing. An interesting note is how Demise in his many forms usually ends up corrupting once good forces in some way, typically with parasites or evil spirits. And with this context, Hylia must be a Goddess of Light, and possibly some form of Will and Purity to oppose Demise’s power. It would also make her a good candidate for looking after the Triforce in that case. And yet we don’t know any of this for sure either, which is, again, very strange considering their presence from the very beginning. Literally.

Now, I want to mention the temples as a last point before wrapping this up, because it has bothered me since I was a wee little whipper snapper. For a place of worship, they sure are hard to navigate, even when they’re empty of monsters. And it’s not like Hyrule doesn’t get this, because the Temple of Time in Ocarina of Time is straight up a church. Just… without pews, so clearly not perfect, but it is possible for people to come in and… worship time, I guess. And no, not the Goddess of Time, because there’s no statue for that. I mean, I know it’s secretly hiding the Master Sword, but it is definitely a church otherwise. What a normal service looks like I can’t say for sure, but it’s definitely not like literally any other temples we see.

        Now, I know it’s a little hard to remember, but temples are usually places where one goes to worship the gods (or even just a god). And we know gods exist in a very real way in Hyrule! They still manage to name Zelda the same thing despite having seemingly buried their divine origins, so some knowledge of gods walking the mortal realm exists. But the temples/dungeons we see usually don’t have much in the way of religious iconography, with a few exceptions (interestingly it’s typically the desert area that actually has statues and could feasibly have had a real capacity for worship). You want to be a devout follower of a god anywhere else? Well, fuck you. Hope you brought a sword and a good pair of boots. If you’re allowed inside at all, since it’s usually the local leaders that are only allowed inside for some reason. And most games don’t seem to have very religious people, despite all the references to divinity. Not like we’d expect them to, at least. And I personally can’t blame them. If I tried to join a religion but found only a wall as an entrance, I’d be pretty disheartened too. Then I’d be pretty pissed to find out I needed not only a royal instrument handed down the monarchy, but their freaking lullaby to even get in to the place of worship. But we know they pray to the gods at least semi-often, since that’s one of the inciting incidences in Wind Waker. And they have offering to statues of Hylia.

        The temples suggest the bar to impress the gods is pretty high, and not in a ‘sacrifice your eldest child’ kind of way. To even get the chance to reach the inner chambers you better hope it’s been kept well and that you didn’t skip leg day recently. Something I didn’t really mention before is that usually, the less involved the gods are, the more independent the people are from worship. If you worry that your local deity will flood your fields, you’re probably leaving regular offerings at their nearby shrine or temple. But if you know that the gods don’t care about literally anything you do, why worship them at all? Why make statues, art, or temples? Why bother with any of it? The answer is you don’t. So these highly selective temples are pretty weird unless you go with the idea the gods are just really done with people and never want to talk to them unless absolutely necessary.

So, I’ve rambled for over twelve pages now. What’s the point? What does any of this mean? I’m honestly not sure, but I have a sinking feeling that there’s some serious shit going on in the Hyrule pantheon. Mortals have been mostly abandoned to their doom. Gods cast out and forgotten entirely. And somehow advanced civilizations keep forming and getting destroyed with only remnants left behind with zero explanation. Assuming the original gods are even alive at this point, which I’m not entirely certain of. Their death certainly explains how Demise/Ganon keeps getting stronger, looking less and less Hylian as time goes on, if he looks humanoid to begin with.

I wouldn’t even assume it’s entirely voluntary at this point either, as Ganon clearly doesn’t have the same motivations in every incarnation (see my previous post about Wind Waker). I’m rather excited about Breath of the Wild 2, as the implications of dehydrated husk Ganon is compelling. Particularly in light of the character development Link and Zelda have received in the first Breath of the Wild. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ganon/Demise turns out to be a fallen god trying to get back home (a nice parallel to Wind Waker, actually), cast out as a scape goat. Blamed for every form of corruption and greed that naturally follows in his wake. I think I said this before, but it is interesting that he is always reborn among the Gerudo, a race famously all females. Sometimes thieves, but nearly always in a position that would naturally crave power to take control of their lives compared to Hylians. Regardless of the consequences.

Is it true? I don’t know. Probably not, but the fact that I can draw these conclusions in three hours of writing is pretty neat. I have a lot of feelings about this franchise, having grown up with it, but I eagerly await what comes next. And I should probably go to bed. Make of all this what you will.

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [61]

iii. sleeping giants

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: violence, bleeding, injuries, explosions, torture.

Summary: You, Clarke, and Madi finally get the chance to confront your enemies, and you quickly learn that you’re up against more than you bargained for.

a/n: the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You, Clarke, and Madi are crouched low along the ridgeline, and you and Clarke each have your rifles propped up on the large rocks in front of you, focused on the man you trapped in the clearing. He’s still crying out in pain, and you can see the blood on his clothes, bright red against his tan jumpsuit. Madi has watched on in silence since you arrived, but she finally breaks now, looking over at you and Clarke, clearly upset. “This isn't right.”

Clarke looks away from her scope to look at Madi, sympathetic. “Madi, I know, but this is our home, your home.”

“And they want to take it from us.”

Clarke nods, “That's right.”

She’s quiet for a second before she asks, “But he doesn't have to suffer. We can kill him now, right?”

Clarke’s expression hardens, her jaw sets, and she turns back to her weapon, peering down at the man again. “Not yet.”

You follow suit, the conversation seemingly over, watching as the man screams out again. Suddenly, there’s movement in the trees around the clearing, and seconds later prisoners start to creep out towards the man, led by the woman you saw earlier. She motions for the group to stop and watch, but a few of the men around her ignore her, walking past her and right into the kill zone you and Clarke established. You whisper, “I’ve got left.”

“I’ve got right.”

You and Clarke each fire off a shot, one immediately after the next, killing the two closest men. Everyone else in the group drops down, looking around for you, and you and Clarke reload before peering through the scope again. Unfortunately, you set your sights on the group just in time to see one of the men stand up, a large weapon in his hand, pointed right at you. You and Clarke see it at the same time, letting out a soft gasp, unable to do anything else before the blast hits the ridgeline in front of you. 

The blast knocks all three of you away, and you hear Madi let out a scream before your body lands on the ground with a hard thud. You groan in pain, a high pitched ringing in your ears, and you hear Clarke’s muffled voice calling your name through the haze in your head. You look up, meeting her eyes, and she grabs your hand, pulling you to your feet. “We have to run!”

You nod your head, crouching low and following her and Madi from the ridgeline and into the trees. It takes a few seconds for your senses to return to you and the cotton in your head to clear, but when it finally does, you feel a rush of anxiety, aware of the danger the three of you now face. Your anxiety only grows when you realize Clarke is gasping, quietly fighting back pain. You pull her to a stop, and Madi whispers, “We can make it to the north cave, come on!”

You ignore her and search Clarke over, pulling her hand away from her ribs and staring down at the black blood covering her hand. “You’re hurt.”

A look of fear passes over Clarke’s face and she turns to Madi, “We have to hide you.”

She looks around until she finds a cut out in a tree nearby, and she starts to urge Madi towards it. “You need to get in here.”

“Not without you.”

You glare at Clarke, blood still dripping from beneath her shirt. “Clarke, you can’t go on like this.”

“I have to keep Madi safe!”

You grab her shoulders, forcing her to look at you, “But who will keep you safe?”

You push both of them towards the hole, just large enough to hide Clarke and Madi. “You both need to hide, I’ll lead them away.”

“But-”

“Clarke there’s no time to argue about this! Get in here, stay hidden.” They both climb into the hole, looking up at you in fear, both reluctant to let you go. You smile down at them and Clarke whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you both.” You pass Madi your knife, wrapping her fingers around it. “Stay safe.”

And then you grab trees and branches from nearby, covering them both up, tucking them out of sight. You turn and run off, leading them away from your family, making sure to be loud enough that they follow you instead. You can hear the prisoners in the woods behind you, yelling updates to each other every time they catch a glimpse of you, and it only pushes you faster, trying to put as much distance as you can between you and the prisoners at your back. Unfortunately, you don't expect them to shoot at you, and you hear the sound of gunshot pop through the air seconds before a bullet tears through your left shoulder. You let out a cry of pain, the injury surprising you and knocking you off your feet. You stumble and roll down a small hill, groaning as you reach the bottom.  You hear footsteps approaching from behind you, and you start to jump to your feet when you feel a boot press down into your back, pinning you in place. 

You try to fight against them until you feel a hand press into the bullethole, making you scream out in pain, choked and broken. You hear a radio to your left, the voice of a woman coming through. “McCreary, we heard gunfire, report. I said report, McCreary.”

“Relax, Colonel. I told you we'd get her, and we did.” Someone grabs your hair, using it to tug your head up and back, and you sneer at the man who drops onto his knees in front of you. He reaches up to stroke a finger down your face, and you rear back and spit at him, watching the blob land in his beard near his mouth. He smacks you across the face, hard, snapping your head to the side, the movement tugging at your hair, and you bite back your sound of pain, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He lifts his radio again and adds, “She's a feisty one. Pretty, too.”

“Good work. Bring her to me, we’ve got a lot to talk about.” 

You are yanked to your feet by the man, McCreary, and he holds you tight by the shirt around your neck, limiting your movement. He half drags, half pushes you the whole way back to the village, and you try to keep an eye on your surroundings as you move, looking for any sight of Madi or Clarke. You’re relieved when you don’t see them in the village, still out there, still free, but your relief is short lived when you are shoved into the center of the village, surrounded by prisoners on all sides. The woman from before calls out, “Let me see her face.”

Your head is again yanked back by your hair, and you hold back a grunt of pain as your eyes land on the woman in front of you. You're surprised to see that she’s young. Definitely older than you, but also younger than your mother, her face relatively smooth of any lines or signs of aging. Her hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, giving you a small view of the jagged scar that runs across the front of her neck. You shudder at the sight of it, not sure you want to know how she got it and survived, and you move your eyes from her to the man at her side. He’s younger than her, closer in age to you, and he’s handsome. His eyes seem kinder than the others, and he’s dressed differently, his clothes all black instead of tan. He looks at you suspiciously, before his eyes fall on McCreary behind you. “You only caught one?”

“We only saw one.” McCreary lets go of your hair, pushing your head down and into the grass. You pull yourself to your knees and then look up at the people surrounding you, watching as the handsome guy whispers, “I highly doubt she was alone.”

“How many others in the woods?”

You look up at the woman, mind running through what to do, until you remember Lincoln. Silent, steady, warrior with a heart, who didn't say a word the entire time he was in your camp. None of you even knew he spoke English until Octavia told you later. You quietly decide to say nothing, hide your reactions, and you make your face blank and set your jaw as you look up at them, silent. The woman looks at McCreary, who smacks you across the face for a second time, the skin on your right cheek throbbing in pain. He drops down in front of you, and grinds out, “Answer the question.”

You stare up at him, still silent, and he lifts his arm and grabs your head before raising his fist, ready to punch you. You flinch a little, waiting for the blow, but the woman stops him in his tracks. “Not yet. First we pray.”

McCreary pulls you to your feet and drags you to the church, as the woman yells to the other prisoners, “Secure the perimeter. Her people will come for her, be ready!”

You are led straight inside of your home, and your lip curls up in disgust when you see that the prisoners have already made themselves at home. McCreary grabs a chair and tosses you into it, before snatching up a bit of rope and securing you in place. When he finishes, he stares at you for a long second, and you glare back, not letting him intimidate you. He glares back at you, before rising to his full height and punching you across the face. You grunt in pain, his hit landing in the same place as his last two, and you’re sure a bruise is already forming along your right cheek and eye.

The handsome man from before runs over and grabs McCreary before he can hit you again, yelling, “Hey, hey, stop! We need her.”

They both grab each other, McCreary hands reaching for the man’s neck, and the woman runs over to break up the spat. “Hey! Enough!”

“He's not one of us. We lose four men, and he doesn't even care.”

The woman glares at McCreary, snapping back, “He is one of us. None of us is here without Shaw.”

Shaw. The handsome man is Shaw, the man all too eager to hit you is McCreary. Shaw is different from the others, evident by McCreary’s “not one of us” comments, but you still aren’t sure how he’s different. You tuck all of the information away for later, in case you need it. The two men release each other as McCreary counters, “None of us is here without me, either. You remember that.”

The woman glares at him, grabbing him by the front of his uniform, her voice low and threatening. “We all have a role to play, and we're all upset about the loss of our men. Take a team and sweep the woods for her friends.”

She releases him and he stares at her for a long second, before he nods and walks away, bumping Shaw on the way out. Shaw turns to glare at him, but makes no move towards him, and the woman walks closer to you, eyes scanning you. You see her gaze drop to the floor, onto a puddle of black blood near your feet, dripping from the bullethole in your shoulder. She turns to Shaw, pointing at the puddle. “You see this?”

He walks over to your chair and runs his finger through your blood, rubbing it between his fingers as he peers down at it. “Blood alteration like they had on the Eligius III. Two suns, no sunscreen needed.”

Two suns? Eligius III? Though the comment confuses you, you are careful to keep your expression blank, adding the information to the list of things that might be useful to you later.

“Must be how they survived down here.” The woman lifts her radio and mutters, “Bring me a med kit. Over.”

The request sends some hope, some relief through you, because captors rarely bandage up their prisoners if they’re just going to kill them in the end. For now, your survival seems likely, meaning you're still useful to them. Something you can work with. The woman pulls up a chair across from you, sitting down into it, threading her fingers together. “We got off on the wrong foot, you and I. We had no idea that there was anyone alive down here. How could we have? We were just trying to get back home. Imagine our surprise when we found that there was no home to get back to, and then your people started killing mine. Surely you can understand why I'm upset, just like you were upset when we took your village. I don't blame you. When a fascist government tried to take my home, I wanted blood, too. And I got it. Nobody else has to die today, just tell me what I need to know, and we can come up with an arrangement that works for all of us. Sound like a plan?”

You sift through the information she’s given you, filing parts of it away for later, careful to keep your expression neutral and unreadable. Shaw, convinced by your show, muses, “Maybe she doesn't speak English.”

The woman doesn't get to answer, because the door to your home suddenly bursts open, and a large man drags someone inside. “Colonel Diyoza, we found this one lurking in the woods outside.”

Your stomach drops as your eyes land on a head full of blonde hair, streaked with red, and she looks up and meets your eyes, looking worried. You see her eyes scan your face, landing on the forming bruise, before she takes notice of the blood dripping from your shoulder onto the ground. You see her worry deepen, but you send her a silent message with your eyes, letting her know you’re okay. You scan her body for additional injuries, relieved to find none as the woman, Diyoza, stands from the chair she was sitting in and slides it next to you, motioning towards it. “Tie her up next to the other one.”

As soon as Clarke is pushed down into the chair beside you, you turn her way and whisper, “No gonasleng. Weron deimeka?”

No English. Where’s the sun? She nods, understanding your command and your question. “Klir. Kamp daun oso sontam honen graun.”

Safe. Near our summer hunting grounds. You nod before you look away, Clarke now tied up beside you. When you do, your eyes land on Shaw and Diyoza, who clearly heard your whispered conversation. Shaw turns to Diyoza, “So, no English then.”

The radio at Diyoza’s side crackles to life with McCreary’s voice, updating everyone on their search. You see Clarke perk up from the corner of your eye, and Diyoza must see it too, because she smirks as she pulls up another chair. “They speak English, they just want us to think they don’t so we'll speak freely and reveal something they can use against us.”

The radio crackles with another update, Clarke clearly listening in, and you resist the urge to shake your head, wondering how someone so careful is now so obvious, her mama bear instincts overriding her warrior instincts. “Every time the patrol checks in this one looks at this. She's tracking our movements, that's all she cares about.”

Clarke freezes, not meaning to give either of you up, and Diyoza looks over to you, seeing if you're going to change your mind and answer any of her earlier inquiries. When you make no move to, she leans back in her chair, appraising you both. “You don't want to talk, that's fine, don't talk. But we'll see how you feel when we find whoever it is you're protecting.”

She lifts her radio, her eyes never leaving Clarke as she delivers the news. “Change of plans, ladies and gentlemen. No more prisoners, shoot to kill.”

Your blood runs cold, and you and Clarke share a look, but she manages to keep her cool, though you know she’s eager to kill everyone in this room and get back to Madi. Diyoza stands, watching you both, waiting for you to react, and when you don’t she sighs and puts the radio down on the table beside her. She grabs the medkit and walks over to you, but you shake your head, nodding over at Clarke. Her brows pull together but she moves to your twin instead, finding the injury they gave her when they blasted the three of you on the ridgeline. As she works, she calls out, “Shaw, they’re both bleeding, gimme a hand.”

She passes some supplies to Shaw before he walks over to you, searching your body for an injury. He finally finds the bullethole in your shoulder, and when he checks the front of your body, he sighs when he doesn't see an exit wound. “The bullet is still in your shoulder, I’m going to have to free one of your hands so I can get your jacket off to get a better look. Are you going to behave?”

You stare at him, trying to decide what to do, before ultimately you give him a single nod, knowing that Clarke already alerted them about your ability to understand, and that bleeding out as a prisoner is not how you want to go out. Shaw frees your left hand and then helps you shrug out of the arm of your jacket before he tugs down the neck of your shirt to get a better look. As he does, you feel his finger pass over the jagged scar on your shoulder, the one Clarke gave you when she cauterized your arrow wound on Luna’s rig. His face pops back into view again, giving you a strange look before he reaches for a pair of surgical pliers. “This is going to hurt.”

You give him no reaction and he takes that as a sign to continue, digging the pliers into the hole in your shoulder, searching for the bullet. Your jaw clenches, biting back a scream of pain, trying to keep up your show of strength. He digs around for an agonizingly long second before you feel the pliers slide out of the wound. A second later he grabs your hand and drops the bullet into it, glinting in the light beneath your black blood. He grabs a suture kit and stitches you up, your mind distracted from the pain as you roll the bullet around in your hand. Shaw finishes quickly, bandages your wound, and helps you back into your jacket before he restrains your hand again and steps away from you. You tuck the bullet into your pocket, a reminder to you on what you’re dealing with here. Diyoza finishes up on Clarke, both of you now bandaged, and the two of them walk away from you and your twin, leaving you to contemplate the mess you’re in.

Hours pass, and slowly day turns to night as your captivity continues. The sporadic updates from McCreary leave you and Clarke with hope, no mention of them finding Madi, leaving at least one of you safe. Sometime after dark, Shaw grabs a canteen and offers Clarke and then you a sip of water, before he settles into the seat across from you, his voice soft and pleading. “Come on, what harm can come from telling me your name?”

He watches you, waiting for you to answer, but when you don’t he leans back in his chair with a sigh. “Well, believe it or not, this is the best conversation I've had in over a hundred years. I was an altar boy in a church just like this. Saginaw, about two hours outside Detroit. On my Harley, I'd make it in one. God, I miss that bike...more than I miss most of the people.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but McCreary’s voice comes through the radio, sounding excited. “Someone just ran out of that cave. Harris, Falk, watch your six. Fast little thing, we can cut her off at the lake. Go west. Wait, scratch that. She's turning North, I got a shot.”

You and Clarke exchange a look of fear, and she immediately breaks her silence. “No! She's just a child.”

Diyoza turns to face her, surprised. “She speaks.”

“Please.”

She stalks towards Clarke, her voice hard. “How many others are in the woods?”

“None. It's just the three of us. I am begging you, tell him not to shoot!”

“Fire at will.”

Clarke looks over at you, terrified at the thought of losing Madi, her daughter, her family, and you look at Diyoza. “I know where they are, over near our summer hunting grounds. She's leading them into a trap. If they don't stop right now, those men will die.”

Diyoza looks at you, unconvinced, but Shaw turns to her, looking sincere. “I believe her.”

You silently thank the kind hearted man as Clarke backs you up, “It's the truth. If you let her go, we'll tell you everything.”

Diyoza stares at you both, considering this offer, before she lifts the radio again. “All units: stand down. Falk, if McCreary disobeys, shoot him in the leg. Harris, if Falk disobeys, shoot him in the head. There may be traps near your position. Check it out and report back, over.”

It only takes a minute for them to come back on the radio, sounding shocked. “Son of a bitch, another bear trap. Almost stepped right in it.”

“Report to base camp. Over and out.”

Clarke looks up at the woman, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for telling the truth. As long as you keep doing that, your friend in the woods will stay alive, and so will the two of you. Do we understand each other?”

You and Clarke both answer, “Yes.”

“Good, then let's begin. Start with how the world ended.”

You and Clarke share a knowing look, before you lean back in your chair, your voice serious, “Which time?”

“There was more than one?”

“Two, actually.”

“Start from the beginning.”

Clarke takes over, beginning the history lesson, as McCreary and a few others step inside your home, listening in. “On the Ark, they taught us that the war started as a Chinese first strike, but they were wrong. It was started by an AI called Alie. Her intention was to reduce the popu-”

She’s cut off by someone’s voice coming in over the radio. “Colonel, we have five more hostiles. At least one is armed, are we still playing nice?”

Everyone in the room cuts a glare over at you and Clarke, but the two of you share a look, utterly and completely bewildered. There’s no way. Diyoza grabs her radio, “Stand by.” 

She points to the others in the room. “Find out where they are and reinforce their position. Not you, McCreary.”

She comes to stand in front of you and Clarke, absolutely fuming. “What did I tell you would happen if you lied to me?”

“We didn’t-”

“Everyone else is locked-”

Diyoza cuts you both off, hitting Clarke across the face, and then you. You bite back a yell of pain, sure that your cheek is bruised at this point. “Take them outside. Use the collar.”

Your eyes widen in alarm, not liking the sound of that, and the reactions of the two men around you only increase your worry. McCreary grins, already walking towards you. “I thought you'd never ask.”

Shaw stands from his seat, looking worried. “Colonel...they’re cooperating.”

“Which is why they’ll live. Their friends, on the other hand…” She lifts the radio, finally deciding on her plans. “Four of ours are dead. It's time to even the score.”

McCreary snaps a thick collar around your neck as another prisoner puts one on Clarke, and you are both pulled to your feet and dragged to the door, fighting the entire time. McCreary tosses you down the stairs, and you roll, hitting your shoulder on the way down. You hold back your scream, letting out a quiet groan of pain as Clarke is tossed down beside you. You pull yourself to your knees, your hands desperately clutching at the collar, and McCreary comes down the stairs and stops in front of you, two remotes in his hand. He tsks, “I wouldn't do that if I was you, you might burn your fingers.”

You pull your fingers away just in time, because seconds later a pulse of electricity moves from the collar, through your body. Little sounds of pain slip past your lips as you convulse, the shock worse than anything you’ve ever felt from the batons, and you can hear Clarke somewhere nearby, making similar sounds of pain. All around you prisoners start to cheer, gathering in a circle to watch, and you start to crawl away, hoping that you can outrun the pain that radiates through your body. Clarke groans out, “Please, we weren’t lying!”

“Hit them again.”

He hits you both again, both of you crying out in pain as the shock electrifies every cell in your body, tearing you apart, piece by piece. When the pain finally stops, you convulse for a second, your body trying to shake the pain off, and McCreary drops down in front of you, grinning. You weakly mutter, “We don't know who that was.”

“I guess you made your point.”

You’re grateful for Shaw, still trying to defend you and your twin, but Diyoza is less impressed. “You might be right. But just in case, hit them again.”

He electrifies you again, your whole body shaking from the force of it, and you can feel yourself growing weaker as the pulse moves through you. The pain stops abruptly, but it takes a second for your senses to return, and when you do, you realize you and Clarke are side by side, sitting in the path of a bright light. Diyoza yells, “Hold, and fire on my command.”

You and Clarke crawl towards each other, staring at the rover in front of you, as Clarke whispers, “Madi, no.”

Diyoza yells, “Come out with your hands high!”

You hear the rover door open and close, and you peer towards it, blinded by the bright lights. A figure approaches slowly, much taller than Madi, and your stomach drops, not sure what you’re seeing. Before their face comes into view, you hear their voice, washing over you and leaving you shocked. “I’m unarmed. Just want to talk.”

He comes closer, stepping into the path of the light, his face now coming into view. 

Bellamy. 

Tears instantly spring to your eyes, falling down your cheeks at the sight of him. He’s older, but he looks good, really good, facial hair now covering the lower half of his face. His hair is still long, curls bouncing around his face. You have to resist every cell in your body, screaming at you to run to him and jump in his arms. Instead, you pull yourself to your knees, your eyes locked on him, watching as he looks at all the prisoners pointing a gun his way. 

“Talk. Give me one good reason not to kill you where you stand.”

Bellamy’s voice is full of leadership as he looks at Diyoza, “How about I give you 283? That's how many of your people are gonna die if you and I can't make a deal.”

He holds up a cup in his hand, and it must mean something to Diyoza because she freezes in place, an unreadable expression passing over her face. She nods, and Bellamy holds up a hand, signaling for the rover to back up and drive away. You hear Clarke sigh beside you, relieved that Madi is still safe. Diyoza glances back at you and your twin, before turning her focus on Bellamy. “283 lives for two. They must be pretty important to you.”

For the first time, Bellamy’s eyes finally find yours, surprised to see you on the ground, clearly in pain. Clarke is now on her knees beside you, looking at Bellamy in shock, and you see a look of pain pass over Bellamy’s face as he looks you over, taking in your appearance. He answers Diyoza, his eyes locked solely on you. “They are.”

You feel a rush of tears fall down your face again, fully crying as you look at the love of your life, back on Earth, standing in front of you. You can feel your muscles tense, wanting to run to him, but the collar shifts on your neck, reminding you of its presence, so you don’t. You just sit there, eyes locked on Bellamy, his eyes locked on yours, reminding you of all the love, memories, and history that the two of you share. 

Diyoza turns to Shaw, her expression serious. “Assemble a team and head back to the transport, check on our people.”

Shaw starts to walk away, but Diyoza grabs him. “Take the girls with you. Anything goes wrong, kill them both.”

Shaw nods once, and McCreary pulls you to your feet while someone else grabs Clarke. They start to pull you away, away from Bellamy, and any self restraint you held onto goes out the window, threatened with the thought of never seeing Bellamy again. You start to fight, pulling against McCreary’s hold on you, wiggling in his grip. You call out for Bellamy, finally getting yourself free from your captor, and you take off towards him, Bellamy’s arms already opening, ready to grab you in a hug. You smile, overcome with relief, but you never make it to him. Halfway across the space someone activates your collar, sending electricity pulsing through you, more powerful than before. You hit the ground, convulsing and twitching, your body focused on nothing other than the shockwaves that pulse through you. You think you’re screaming, but it’s hard to tell. It’s hard to think of anything other than the electricity that invades your body and destroys you.

You’re relieved when the pain finally stops, but your body is exhausted, unable to handle the last hit of electricity, and you feel yourself start to slip into unconsciousness. You hear Shaw yelling at someone, and Bellamy saying your name, and you try to fight the darkness that engulfs you, wanting to get back to him, but it’s too strong. It grabs your body, wrapping you up, before the darkness takes the plunge, bringing you with it. 

-

next chapter

[maysbanks]

hold out. (jj maybank)

here it is, the second part to hypersonic missiles ! the response to the first part was absolutely amazing, the support & love in this fandom is incredible & i just wanna say a huge thank you to all of you that take the time to like, reblog & comment, every single one means so much !! gotta admit im not loving this as in it's not my best work and kinda all over the place & half way through writing this i almost scrapped the whole thing to rewrite the full series with an oc bc writing as the reader was starting to get to me lol. but alas here it is & as always i hope u enjoy x

warning: swearing, drug use, underage drinking, violence etc 

summary: after accidentally inserting herself into a treasure hunt with four teenagers, one of which could be considered her 'friend with benefits', y/n grubbs is left to deal with the complications and misfortunes that come along with it - including her ever-growing feelings for said 'friend with benefits'. 

( gif isn't mine! please let me know if it's yours so i can credit you. )

If someone had told you a week before that you would lose your father, get your house raided by two men you had never seen before in your life, make friends with a group of teenagers, embark on a two hundred year old treasure hunt with said teenagers, and be hanging out with JJ Maybank every day and willingly, all in the space of one week; you'd have laughed in their face, asked them what drugs they were on and could you have some, and then laugh in their face again.

But alas, there you were. You still couldn't quite believe it, especially the JJ part. You'd had worries at first, like would the gang really want you involved, did they secretly hate having you around, were they just being nice and letting you in on this because your dad had died? All the doubts swirled in your mind, running around like clock-work, just ticking away constantly in the back of your head. Surprisingly, JJ had been the one you'd gone to about them.

"I just feel guilty," you'd said. It was after a day of riding around in John B's boat and using fancy hotels' WiFi, and 'borrowing' a drone from JJ's dads old workplace. His eyebrows furrowed when he looked at you, confused. "I mean, you guys have been friends for like, forever. And then I just show up and you conveniently find out about John B's dad and the treasure hunt on the same day when I'm there, and it's just like - I don't belong with you guys, it's your thing and I'm just kinda, here." 

"You're part of this just as much as we all are," he'd told you, matter of fact. His body was angled to face you as you sat outside John B's self-proclaimed Chateau, a freshly rolled blunt being passed back and forth between the pair of you. "You need to stop doubting yourself, man. You're apart of us now." 

The words had warmed your heart, an instant smile being spread on your lips as you looked at him through red-rimmed eyes. Underneath the setting sun, he looked almost angelic; his golden hair blowing in the slight breeze, tanned skin exposed due to the heat. You had pretended not to notice the tense of the muscles in his arms whenever your fingers brushed when you passed the juul between yourselves. 

"You're too kind to me, Maybank," you'd grinned, boot-clad foot nudging his knee gently. "If I didn't know you so well I'd have thought you'd have ulterior motives."

"Who says I haven't?" He'd smirked back. You'd just smiled, teeth biting down on the plump skin of your bottom lip before you'd looked away from his burning gaze and focused your attention on anything, anywhere but JJ fucking Maybank.

You got along with the gang amazingly, you couldn't doubt that. Pope was the smartest guy you'd met, sweet and funny and passionate and so certain of what he wanted to do in life. Kiara, or Kie, as you'd come to call her, was very environmentally involved, almost too cool for the guys, you thought. She cared so much about so many things, and she had a great taste in music too. John B was a bit like you, you supposed. Fatherless, on the hunt for answers, things like that - but other than that he was a great guy, the makeshift leader of the little group, a little lost in life, but that was to be understood.

And then there was JJ. You felt most comfortable around the blonde, but that was kinda a given too, due to the fact you'd seen each other in your most vulnerable states that came with having sex rather regularly, something the other members of the gang didn't share. He was a spit-fire, always ready to throw a punch and fire threats at those who deserved it, head-strong and stubborn. But he was more so caring, God he cared so much for his friends, you'd discovered. He would do just about anything for them, whatever position that put him in. JJ put the gang before himself, always. You'd noticed all different types of things about JJ especially, little things you had never taken the time to notice before.

These little discoveries probably came from watching him too much, you'd thought one night. It was a bit of a problem, though you never mentioned it. The unspoken rule amongst the group was No Pogue on Pogue Macking, which basically meant everyone was off limits to each other. You understood the rule, Kie having been the only girl before you'd arrived on the scene amongst three guys, and after becoming apart of the gang you had no choice but to respect it - which also meant that JJ was off limits. But was he technically off limits when you'd already been there, so far past the line on macking with each other?

There was some sort of agreement between the two of you, that in order to make this work; your friendship with the Pogues, the hunt for the Merchant's treasure, that nothing could happen. You'd spoken briefly about it that first day, outside the lighthouse beside the Twinkie (John B's van, you'd learned had a nickname), we're cool, right? Pretend we haven't seen each other naked, conversation. It had been cut short, but it still happened. And the pair of you never mentioned it after that, a few off-handed comments here and there from JJ, but nothing specific. So you assumed yours and JJ's hook ups were off the table, and you had no idea why that had come to bother you so damn much.

On the day following your talk with JJ on John B's porch, he'd invited you to come along with him and Pope as they delivered groceries for Pope's dad, Heyward. You had almost said no, because really, you could probably do with a break from the Maybank boy, all the time spent with him was doing no favours for your little situation of Fighting Attraction While Hunting For Gold. That's what you were putting it down to in your mind anyway, too much time spent with the person you're sleeping with can begin to mess with anyone's head, and hey, maybe it was the fact that you were grieving and JJ was familiar - but you couldn't be doing with all these thoughts anymore.

Despite the angel on your shoulder urging you to turn his offer down, you'd said yes. But that was little to do with JJ and more to do with your mom and your current home situation, which was unbearable, to say the least. Your mother was barely speaking to you, as if she was scared of letting something slip if she did. In return, you shut her out, too. Told her lame excuses and empty lies when you were heading out with the gang, lying through your teeth when she'd asked where you were or where you were going.

Lana Grubbs wasn't a stupid woman, though, and you knew she knew you were up to something. But she hadn't mentioned anything outright yet, and so you hadn't said anything either. The hole your father had left was huge and gaping, evident in both your lives. You hadn't spoken about it yet, and you weren't intending to until she could be completely honest with you. You didn't want to hear anymore lies, and you were already on the path to discovering the full truth. On your own.

Her words echoed in your mind every time you left the house, voice small and gentle as she never failed to say the same thing. "Just be careful." You'd always look over your shoulder, and she'd never look back at you. She hadn't looked at you much at all since your dad had died.

It was after a certain drop-off of groceries, you'd joined JJ in his delivery whilst Pope had docked the boat and gone off to deliver his own, yours and JJ's strides matching as you walked the seemingly never-ending drive of the abnormally large house that loomed over you. The Kook part of the island never ceased to intimidate you, no matter how much you didn't want it to. There was something about it, the people that lived amongst it, that unsettled you whenever you entered it. Figure Eight wasn't somewhere you usually visited other than an odd job you'd picked up, and you were reminded why of that fact as you walked alongside JJ.

"Just think," he breathed, all starry eyed and parted lips as he gazed around the pair of you. "This could all be ours soon."

You snorted, bumping his side with your own. "Don't be melodramatic, JJ,"

"I'm serious!" JJ protested. His sea blue eyes caught yours when he turned his head to look at you head-on. The intensity of his stare almost made you stop in your spot, but you managed to carry on, gulping when his eyes continued to hold yours. "I'm sticking to my earlier statement, right, we're going to move here, and out-rich all these fuckin' Kooks."

"Out-rich?" You raised an eyebrow, lips quirking. "Your grammar is so adequate, Maybank."

"It's a word," JJ insisted, nudging your side with the point of his elbow. "Who the fuck uses words like adequate these days, anyway? I don't even think Mrs. Humphrey knows what that word means."

You laughed at the mention of your shared English teacher, the grey-haired, short, spectacle wearing woman immediately entering your mind. JJ grinned when he heard your laugh, dimples winking in his cheeks.

"Mrs. Humphrey can't even spell Wednesday," you giggled, JJ chuckling along with you as he nodded. "It's a wonder how that woman has been working there for like, eighteen years or something."

Your steps faltered as you neared the door to the house, pace slowing as you both basked in the time spent with each other, though neither of you would admit it. "She was probably a good teacher at first," JJ said thoughtfully, shuffling the groceries in his hands. (You tried not to notice the way his arms looked when he did that, muscles clenching and on full show with his cut-off tank.) "I bet each year another brain cell of hers just like, dies."

"Wouldn't surprise me," you nodded. "Mine would attempting to teach classes full of teenagers," rather dramatically, you shuddered. "Especially if one of those teenagers was JJ Maybank."

"Hey!" JJ shouted, though his grin proved that he found your jab amusing. You laughed along with him, bumping his side once more as you finally landed at the door, watching as he turned to you, expression trying to be serious and failing, rather horribly. "You better watch yourself, Grubbs. I'm serious here, I can be a pretty scary guy if need be, y'know."

You didn't doubt that, of course. You'd seen JJ in action with your own two eyes, you knew what he was capable of. But somehow, stood with you there, on the doorstep of some filthy rich Kook's mansion, groceries in hand, blonde hair shining golden in the sun, sun-kissed skin exposed to your wandering eyes, grin on pink lips; you couldn't imagine JJ Maybank hurting a fly.

"Trust me, I know." You'd said just as he knocked on the door, shooting you one last toothy grin before the door was opened and he was pulled into a conversation with the woman who'd answered it, talking about all things from the weather to the next semester at school. You watched him all the while, smile growing on your lips without your knowledge as you took him in, seemingly in his element as he sweet-talked the middle-aged woman inside the house. When he turned to you suddenly, you startled, broken from your thoughts and caught red-handed staring at him like some freak. He grinned, tongue wetting his pink lips at the same time you internally groaned.

"I was just saying, the groceries," he trailed off as he pointed to the bags in your hands in which you'd forgotten were even there. You let out an 'oh' as you quickly passed the groceries over to the waiting woman, shooting her an apologetic smile as she looked at you knowingly. JJ nodded his head in your direction, speaking once more to the woman, "New guys, huh?"

You glared at him as the woman laughed, perfectly manicured hand reaching beside her and grabbing hold of her purse, pulling a note out with her slender fingers. She held the note out to JJ, who immediately tried to turn it down, insisting there was no need, but the woman was unrelenting - sending a pointed look your way as she told him, "For your troubles, sweetie."

JJ picked the note from her hands, a gracious smile being sent to her as he nodded. "It's been a long day," he sighed heavily and your jaw almost dropped as you resisted the urge to reach out and slap his arm. What a fucker. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Ramirez. I really appreciate it."

The woman, Mrs. Ramirez, as you learned, nodded and waved a hand. "No bother, sweetie," she told him before turning her eyes back to you. You forced a smile as she simply eyed you up and down, before sending an obviously forced one of her own. "And thank you." She said curtly, and you were ready to give her a piece of your mind before JJ was grabbing your arm and dragging you in the direction of where you'd come from, shouting one last thank you over his shoulder as he walked you back towards the boat.

It was when you were a safe distance away that you shook your arm from his hold only to slap him gently on his own as you glowered, glare smouldering as he laughed, throwing his head back as he stumbled beside you.

"You're such an ass," you huffed as you tried to ignore his chuckling, speeding your steps. "I mean, she literally just tipped you a hundred dollars for showing up and smiling, I'm sure if I had a third leg down there I would have got the same treatment too."

"Are you jealous?" JJ asked, having to jog slightly to keep up your hurried pace. His smile was huge and infectious, and you made a point not to meet his stare when he landed next to you in fear of breaking your fake annoyed stance. "Maybe if you weren't too busy checking me out then you could have talked to her, and y'know, make a small fortune yourself."

You scoffed, whirling around and halting him in place. He almost stumbled into you, and you stepped back when his hands landed on your arms to steady himself, shaking his grip off almost immediately. "I wasn't checking you out," you told him, matter of fact.

JJ grinned and ran a hand through his hair as he replied, "Sure you were," he shrugged. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared, biting down on your tongue as you resisted your own smile as he motioned to his body from head to toe. "Not that I can blame you, I mean look at me."

"I've looked, JJ," your voice was low when you said it, a knowing tone to your words. "I've looked, and I've seen it all, in case you forgot."

A low chuckle slipped past his lips. "How could I ever forget?" He asked rhetorically, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as you tried not to follow the action with your eyes, and failed, miserably. "Trust me, that image is forever dented in my brain. I think of it, sometimes. Just randomly."

You rolled your eyes. And he's back, _you thought. _He never left, a voice at the back of your head piped up. You ignored them both. "C'mon," you said, already turning on your heel and starting off in the direction of where Pope had docked the boat. "Let's go get these deliveries finished."

The pair of you said nothing more for the rest of the duration of the short walk back, and when the boat was in your sights JJ was off running, more than likely eager to show off his one hundred dollar tip to Pope, as you idled, watching his back as he ran. When you finally landed in the boat, it was silent. You immediately picked up on the tension, heavy in the small space, and shot JJ a confused glance when he looked back at you.

Slowly, you made your way towards where the two boys were up at the front of the boat, Pope situated at the wheel. The dark skinned boy was staring straight ahead, refusing to meet either yours or JJ's eyes. When you looked to the latter, he subtly shrugged a shoulder, letting you know that he had no clue himself what was going on with his best friend.

"Pope?" You questioned softly. "What's wrong?" When there was no answer, you shared another glance with JJ, his concern shining in his blue eyes. You tilted your head as you went to ask him again, but when you did, your eyes caught on to the colour crimson that was slowly streaming down the side of his face. You gasped and JJ startled, chest bumping your shoulder as he tugged the cap from Pope's head, revealing the injury near the top of his head.

"Jesus!" JJ exclaimed when he caught sight of the wound, Pope swatting at his hands that held his hat, pulling it back down once JJ had let go. "What happened?"

"Rafe and Topper jumped me," Pope's voice was slightly wobbly as he informed you both, a tear sliding down his cheek as he recounted, "They said no Pogues on their side of the island."

Your blood began to boil just as JJ demanded, "What are you gonna do?" His own jaw clenched in anger as he looked at his best friend, beaten and bruised in front of him from the hands of some entitled selfish pricks that thought they were better than everyone because they had more money in their pockets. Rafe Cameron was a name that never failed to make you queasy at just the mention of it, and his little gang of followers including Topper Thorton were just as unbearable.

"I have something in mind." Pope spoke, voice and stance determined. And something he did, as he drove to Topper's new boat - and promptly swam over and removed the plug from it, causing the new model to sink into the water as you and JJ watched from Heyward's boat, keeping an eye out for anyone that may have spotted your trio.

And though it was bad, and you knew you probably shouldn't have taken part in such an activity, nor prompted Pope to either; you couldn't deny the rush it gave you as you watched Topper Thorton's boat begin to sink, and maybe it was the fact that you knew that Topper was a Grade A Asshole and deserved it, or maybe it was Pope's own unsure but excitable adrenaline that mixed with your own, or maybe it was just the fact that JJ wrapped his arm around your shoulder without a care in the world as he shouted his support to his friend, squeezing you to his side almost unknowingly, like it was some kind of instinct.

You thought, yeah, it probably was, as you immediately felt the loss of it when he moved to grab Pope in a hug. And then you thought, well shit.

There was a mutual share of disappointment when the gang had found just about absolutely nothing when you'd taken Pope's fathers boat out the next morning, drone ready and in hand to go hunt for the gold, where John B Routledge had marked down on the map it having been.

Granted, the Royal Merchant was there. It was just missing the one thing they were after - the gold was nowhere in sight, and the journey had been a complete waste of time. You thought it to be too good to be true, of course it had to be. Four hundred million in gold and you were expected to find it? There was no way, you thought bitterly as JJ steered the gang back to land, not one of you daring to speak as the disappointment crashed over you all in huge waves.

You'd departed with the guys not long after that, after promising Kie that you would accompany her to the annual summer movie night, making your way towards home. The bitter frustration ate away at your insides, you were mad, angry - fucking infuriated, each step the gang got closer to finding the gold, it was as if someone was stood in your path and shoving you all back another ten.

Had your dad really died for this? This seemingly never-ending hunt for promised gold that, for all you knew, could be complete and utter bullshit. You didn't understand it at first, when the pieces began to slot together, but it was like every time the chase got harder it made you want it even more; and then you understood your fathers fascination and Big John Routledge's obsession. This gold meant everything to you and the gang, and you knew, John B especially, would never give up on this chase.

"Hey, sweetheart," your mother called when you entered the house. The front door was still broken, only the screen in place, and was leaning against the wall as you maneuvered past it. Lana was sat at the couch, and when you walked in she'd shoved a box away from her, the lid laying haphazardly over the top. "I wasn't expecting you home so early."

You shot her a small and forced smile, shuffling your bag from your shoulder and onto the floor, landing with a soft thud. "Hey mom," you greeted back, noting her teary eyes and flushed cheeks. "What're you doing?"

When you arrived at the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder, you immediately recognised the box - Family Photos! _written atop _the cardboard.

"I was just looking through some old pictures," she told you, sniffling as she attempted to smile at you. "Just wanted to see his face again."

You nodded, your throat tightening at the mention of your dad. Reaching a hand up and wiping away her tears, she looked at you questioning, "Where have you been?"

"Just out," you said, bluntly and unconvincing. "Doing a few jobs here and there, y'know. Nothing exciting."

Lana hummed, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Mr. Phelps told me that he seen you with that Maybank kid the other day," she informed, your face falling for a millisecond as her words sunk in. She looked at you, tear-stained face and serious gaze, lips pulled to a thin line. "I told you to stay from those guys, Y/N."

"I was helping him deliver groceries, mom," you deadpanned - which wasn't exactly a lie, if that's when Mr. Phelps had spotted you. Most of your time spent with the gang was mainly off the land and away from prying eyes, whether that be on a boat or the Chateau, so you knew that was the safest bet of when you'd been spotted. "For Heyward's. It's not like I'm hanging out with him on purpose."

Lie, lie, lie. It was becoming alarmingly easy to lie straight through your teeth, and to your mother nonetheless, but you couldn't dare tell her anything, and why should you, when she hadn't told you anything? It took two to Tango, you thought.

"I just don't want you getting hurt," your mother reminded, and you let out a sigh as you nodded, faked closed-mouth smile on your lips. "I'm serious, Y/N, please just be careful out there."

"Always am," you promised (bull-fucking-shit). You turned on your heel, heading towards your room as you called over your shoulder, "I got invited out tonight, by the way. To the movie thing on the North Side. Is it alright if I go, please?"

You waited at your door, hearing your mother sigh from the couch. "Yes, you can go." You smiled, this one more real than all the rest, and thanked her gently. She didn't look back at you though, and the familiar unspoken tension was back with vengeance. You couldn't wait to get out of it.

The movie night was a welcome distraction from your frustrations with the treasure hunt, the haunting memories of your dad, and the tension with your mom. It was only you, Kie, Pope and JJ that attended - John B having seemingly disappeared for the day, none of the gang having heard from him. You'd managed to leave the house with relatively no questioning from your mom, and met JJ a little way down the block.

("Woah, keep two feet away from me please," you'd joked, halting in your tracks as you spotted him standing there. He'd furrowed his brows at you, frown etched on his face. "My cover's been blown, everyone knows about us!

He just looked even more confused, eyes squinting down at you as you raised a hand and layed it across your forehead dramatically. "What'd you mean?" He questioned, eyes darting around, seemingly searching for answers in the air around you both. "What, do people know we sleep together or something?"

You'd rolled your eyes, shoving him gently when you were close enough, beginning to walk away. "No, you doof," you chuckled. "Mr. Phelps ratted me out to my mom, told her that he saw us together the other day. I had to tell her that we were just delivering groceries for Pope's dad."

"Ah," JJ nodded, shooting you a mischievous grin. "We better go into hiding then, I'm thinking... log cabin in the mountains, all fur sheets and deer heads on the walls, ooh a hot tub too."

You laughed, "Trying to whisk me away there, Maybank?"

You were joking, but his eyes were surprisingly serious as he looked at you. "Always, Grubbs.")

The field was already packed full of people by the time the four of you arrived, groups of people scattered around, idle chatter filling the air. It was being held on the Kook side of the island, and your eyes swooped over the people, most of them being Kook's themselves, expensive clothing and an aura that just screamed, I'm better than you. It made you feel uneasy, but you tried not to think about it as Kiara led you through the crowds.

"I'm so glad they're still doing this," she tells you all, sighing happily. The faces of the guys revealed they were not nearly as happy to be there as she was, while you were simply just glad to be out of your house once again. "Keep calm, carry on. Back to normal, OBX life, y'know?" She stopped once she found a decent spot, turning to the three of you. "Aren't you guys glad I made you come?"

"Ecstatic." Pope deadpanned, sarcastic lull to his tone.

"My couch was pretty comfy." JJ piped up.

"I'm just happy to be out the house, I guess." You said.

You were aware why the guys were so uncertain about being there; it wasn't so long ago that Pope was sinking Topper Thorton's boat, you and JJ accompanying, and now you were all on his side of the island. Not only that, but you knew that if Topper was to discover that it was Pope who'd done his boat in, it wouldn't just be Topper that confronted him - it would be the full Happy Days Gang. Nothing was ever a fair game when it came to Kooks.

Kiara excused herself to go buy soda's from the conession stand, and you shifted as you seated yourself on the blanket you'd bought, having opted out of bringing a chair. You sat in front of JJ, his legs touching your back.

"What's wrong with you guys?" You turned your head when Pope and JJ began to whisper, the former's panicked eyes landing on you as you frowned at the pair.

"Topper and Rafe are on my ass," Pope revealed. "They know I sunk Topper's boat."

You sighed heavily, muttering a shit as JJ grabbed his friend by the arm, focusing his attention towards him. "They can't prove it, okay. Just deny, deny, deny."

Pope nodded along, muttering along with him as you watched the pair, before your eyes moved to Kie that arrived back, her eyes narrowing as she seated herself beside Pope. "Just saw Rafe," she informed, your blood running cold. You could practically feel JJ tense from behind you. "He said, and I quote, 'Tell your boy we know what he did'. What is that?"

"Um, where is he?" JJ questioned, his tone of voice revealing his hidden anxiety.

"Right there." Kiara nodded her head, right in the direction of where Rafe Cameron and his goons sat, as you, Pope and JJ whipped around, Pope practically turning his full body in their direction. You groaned as JJ desperately urged him to turn back round, and away from their taunting eyes.

"The whole death squad!" Pope exclaimed, anxiety riding off of him in waves.

"Don't stare, bro," JJ urged, hand wrapping around Pope's shoulders. You tuned out the rest of the blonde's words as he informed you all that he'd be coming out swinging if they were to corner him, and you felt dread build as you heard his last words. "If that doesn't work, I got this right here." He patted his bag.

"JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here," Kie practically begged. "JJ, there are kids!"

You focused your attention straight ahead of you as the guys continued to argue; Pope simply telling Kie that it might go down to her line of questioning, her brown eyes darting back and forth between you all. You refused to meet her eyes, however, and were glad when the large screen ahead of you suddenly lit up. "Oh, look," you exclaimed, laughing nervously. "The movie's starting."

And it was left at that - JJ whispering deny, deny, deny to Pope once more before you all turned your attention to the screen, trying to block out the intruding thoughts of having the knowledge that the gang of Kooks were staring you down, awaiting your next move like a predator would its pray.

All was going fine - the movie was good, everyone's attention on the black and white screen. You tried not to think about Rafe and Topper, or the gold or your dad, and definitely not the feel of JJ's legs either side of you, trapping you into his hold. You let yourself believe that everything would be okay, and then Pope had revealed he needed a piss, and everything had gone to shit.

JJ had accompanied him, and the two had set off behind the screen, hidden away from Rafe's watchful eyes. They hadn't done a good enough job to be discreet though, and you immediately took notice of Rafe, Topper and Kelce making their way towards the opposite side of the screen. You swore, catching Kie's attention as she questioned, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Looks like that piss break just got a lot more complicated," you said, and realisation dawned on her face. It didn't take the pair of you long to locate the guys, all in various forms of fighting, as you and Kie screamed at them to stop. You grabbed Rafe's arm mid-swing, his fist raised and ready to send a hit to JJ's face from where Kelce had hold of him. "Stop it, you dick!"

You let out a scream as you were sent flying back from his shove, Rafe's blue eyes wild and crazed as he glared down at you. "Stay out of this, Grubbs!" He barked, and without a moments hesitation sent a fist hurling towards JJ's cheek.

Kiara had jumped on Topper's back from the small distance away from you, and you took a moment to ready yourself before hurtling towards Rafe from your crouched position, tackling him to the ground from his knees, effectively stopping his blows. He seemed stunned for a second, staring dazed up at you before he promptly threw you off of him, shoving you to the ground without a care. "Don't fucking touch me," he growled down at you, and you groaned slightly as the wind was knocked from you.

You heard JJ from somewhere above you, shouting insults at Rafe and repeating your name over and over. You lifted yourself from the ground just as Topper puts Pope in a headlock, his tight grip causing the dark skinned boys breath to leave him in choked gasps. You shoved at Rafe's back once more, sending him stumbling forward before he whipped around, hand reaching out and grabbing you by the face, tugging you so you stood nose-to-nose with him.

"I said," he ground out darkly, eyes boring into yours. "Don't fucking touch me."

You were beginning to fear what would come next before a sudden glow caught your eye from the side, the movie screen lighting up in harsh flames. Rafe dropped you, your hands moving to rub over the imprint he'd left, as you looked towards where Kie stood, JJ lighter in hand. Screams of terror echoed from the other side, as people began to flee, and it didn't take long for the three Kooks on your side to follow, sprinting quickly from the scene. Fucking cowards, you thought.

JJ's hands were on you before you could even blink, eyes earnest and worried as they looked over you, your cheeks red from the earlier grip Rafe had on you. "You good?" He asked you, slightly out of breath. You nodded, repeating the question to him. He smiled lightly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good."

The night had ended promptly there, Kie dropping you off at your respected houses. You'd bid them all a good night, and as quietly as possible made your way into your home, not wanting your mother to see the marks imprinted on your face from Rafe's fingers. Luckily, she'd already been in bed, and it didn't take long for you to crawl into yours, thoughts of the day and a certain blonde running through your mind.

The next morning you'd met the gang (save for John B, who was still seemingly missing) at the Heyward's store; your morning had been spent desperately trying to hide the red marks that Rafe's fingers had left from your mom before she could notice and ground you in your room for the rest of your life. It had a been a success for the most part, and she asked no questions as you left the house, though you took note of her uncertain expression as you bid your goodbyes.

"Have you heard from John B?" You asked Kiara who was working closest to you. You had realised the brunette boy was missing from the group upon your arrival, and you couldn't help the worries in your mind at where he could be or what could have happened to him.

"No, nothing. Have you?" She returned the question, brown eyes meeting yours as you shook your head no, a short sigh falling from her lips. "Neither have the guys. What're you thinking?" Kiara eyed you, gaze suddenly sullen. "Do you think something's happened?"

"I don't know, Kie," you told her because honestly, you didn't. John B had a target on his back, that much was for sure. Son of Big John, once owner of the proclaimed death compass. Your mind thought back to the two men that had raised your home, and chased the guys on more than one occasion, and you couldn't help but think the worst. "I'm sure he's fine, though."

Kiara nodded, though she looked anything but sure. "Yeah, you're probably right." The pair of you continued on with your respected work, JJ's and Pope's voice trailing from somewhere in the store as they talked. "You're working Midsummers, right?"

You groaned, nodding. Kiara laughed at your sour expression. "Oh yeah, second year running. To be honest, I'm surprised they let me work it after last year, my customer service must be better than my right hand hook," you joked, chuckle escaping your lips as you thought back to the Midsummer's party the year before. Your dad had gotten you the gig, because he was a weasel like that - always talking people into getting what he wanted, and what he wanted was the gas bill to be paid, and his face just didn't fit the portfolio to be serving Kook's their drinks at their fancy party, and so it had left left to you to do just that.

The night had ended with Dean Kipp on his ass after his hand had fallen on your ass, and you'd been let off with a warning as the guy clutched his bloody nose and called you everything ranging from psycho bitch to slutty pogue. Your surprise was immense when you were offered a job again this year, and a large amount of the reason you'd said yes was just so you could see the look on his face when he saw you.

"He totally deserved that," Kiara remarked, grinning. You smiled back, the pair of you sharing a laugh as you returned to your work.

For a second, you let your worries wash away as you were pulled into a conversation with the gang, your spirts high for the first time in a while. You were happy, you realised. What had started off as being the worst period of your life was slowly turning into the best, the gang and treasure hunt a blessing in disguise. The four of you shared laughs and joked back and forth as you worked, and you found yourself to be perfectly content.

All that came crashing down when Pope's father entered the shop, police officer trailing behind him. "Hey, Pope! There's someone here to see you."

You stopped dead-on, the rest of the gang halting in their movements as you all stared towards the officer you recognised as Shoupe. "Evening, officer." Pope greeted, gulping.

"I have an arrear warrant for felony destruction of property," Deputy Shoupe approached your group, handing the said warrant to Pope's dad. From beside you, JJ tensed, and when you turned to look at him, his blue eyes glanced down at you, freshly beaten face pulled into an anxious grimace as his jaw clenched. Shoupe had gotten remarkably closer, hands reaching for the handcuffs placed on his belt. "Hands where I can see 'em."

Pope glanced desperately towards JJ, who shook his head quickly, his words, though unspoken, clear as day. Deny, deny, deny. But denying wasn't going to get Pope out of handcuffs, you decided as you stepped forward, tone pleading as you demanded, "Stop, you can't just do this!"

"Out of my way please, Miss Grubbs," Shoupe dismissed you, sounding almost bored as he shoved past you, beginning to handcuff Pope who can do nothing but allow it to happen, his anxious eyes focusing on one spot as reality began to sink in.

"What did he do, Shoupe?" Mr. Heyward questioned in disbelief, watching as his son was getting arrested in front of his very eyes.

"Take a look at the warrant," the cop said simply as he begun to tug Pope out of the store.

It was chaos. Everyone was shouting, demanding answers and hurling insults. JJ is screaming something about somebody paying him, Kiara is in your ear asking what the hell was going on, Mr. Heyward is hurtling questions towards both his son and Shoupe. Passbyers stared at the scene, whispering to each other as they walked by or stopped to watch. Everything blurred together, and you could do nothing but watch the scene unfold in front of you.

Those fucking assholes, you thought. Topper Thorton came to mind, tan skin and bleached ends, million dollar smile and designer clothes. You remembered his wild gaze as he held Pope in a headlock the night before, close to almost killing him. And yet he was off somewhere doing god knows what, probably shopping for a new boat to replace the one he'd lost, not that he probably cared all that much about it in the first place. Rafe Cameron's eyes entered your mind next, and you felt a shudder run through you as you remembered them boring into yours as he held your face frighteningly tight and close to his own.

JJ's voice was suddenly breaking through your stream of thoughts - "It wasn't him!" He was calling out, eyes directed on Shoupe who paused and turned toward him, Pope's face disbelieving from behind him. "It was me."

It sunk in then what JJ was trying to do, and you whirled around from his left, quickly shaking your head as you muttered, "JJ." He ignored you however, and stepped forward towards where the officer was standing, Pope still in his arms.

"He tried to talk me out of it," JJ continued. "But I was mad because he had just been beaten up, I was sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit." He was stood directly in front of Shoupe, almost boot-to-boot. You couldn't see his face from where you were, and you were almost thankful for the fact as you heard him direct his words to Pope, "I can't let you take the fall for what I did. You've got too much to lose."

"JJ, what are you doing?" Pope demanded. His face was confused, just as much in shock as the rest of you. For a second, his eyes leave JJ's and land on yours, a shaky breath leaving your lips as his eyes were practically pleading.

"I'm telling the truth, for once in my goddamn life, I'm gonna tell the truth," JJ announced loudly. "I took his old man's boat, too."

"What the hell?" Mr. Heyward questioned, though nobody paid him any mind. Your gaze was too focused on the unfolding scene of JJ Maybank taking the fall for something he most definitely do, and you could do nothing but watch it happen.

Your heart finally shattered when JJ's last words entered your ears, "He's a good kid. You know where I'm from."

He only looked back once as he was put into the handcuffs that previously held Pope, and that wasn't until he was shoved in the back of the police car and the door was slammed behind him. You walked closer towards it, hand on Pope's back as he watched his best friend get arrested for something he'd done, and you both knew it. When JJ glanced up and out of the window, bruised face clear behind the glass, his sea blue eyes caught yours and then he smiled.

The fucker.

You could only watch helplessly as the police car was driven away and out of sight, Pope throwing his cap down in a fit of anger as he stormed off, his dad calling after him, Kie landing to your right. The dark haired girl wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you to her side gently.

"JJ'll be alright," she told you, voice confident though her face read anything but as she glanced in the direction the car had been driven off. "He always is."

But what, a voice in the back in your head nagged at you, if this time he wasn't?

And then it dawned on you: you actually really, generally, sincerely and whole-heartedly cared about JJ Maybank.

(And the thought scared you more than you would ever like to admit.)

& to the lovely people that asked to be tagged in this, love you all x @ponyboys-sunsets @mysticsthinking @danicarosaline

[nanagoswife]

For You? Always.

Chapter Seven

Summary: The next morning...

W/C: 2.0k

<<Previous, Next>>

Opening your eyes, you were met by Ben’s sleeping face. Delight spread through you as you watched him sleep.

Careful to not wake him up, you got out of bed.

Before you left the room, you noticed that his dress coat was still on you. Taking it off, you placed it with his other belongings beside the door.

In the living room, you saw Sadie sitting on the couch as she watched television with a mug in her hands.

Walking into the kitchen, you said good morning to each other. She let you know that she had already made coffee. Relief drowned you at the thought of gaining morning energy from a cup of coffee.

“Sleep well?” Sadie said with a playful tone. 

Rolling your eyes, you replied, “Nothing like that happened. Though, something else did happen.” Immediately, she sat up with great interest as she turned the television off.

"You better tell me before I force it from you."

Chuckling at the reaction, you said, "We had our first kiss last night."

For a moment, you paused. Looking back at it made you feel giddy. There was so much that made that moment so memorable.

"Well, what was it like," Sadie cut you off from your fond memory. The whole time, there was a smile on your face.

"It was," you paused to think of a way to explain how extraordinary it was. "Everything was perfect. From the moment he brought me down the pathway, all the way to being held by him. Then, the kiss..."

Once again, you lost yourself in the memory. There was nothing that you would've asked more or less of from that moment.

"The kiss was almost like I was in a fairytale. It made me forget about everything except that moment. It helped me forget every bad experience I ever had."

When you were finished, embarrassment filled you as you realised how much you had just said. At least Sadie was your best friend, well, more like sister.

You were also glad that you were talking quiet enough that Ben wouldn't hear. Not as long as he was in the bed. 

-

When you had gotten out of bed, Ben stirred. Since he could tell that you were trying not to wake him, he kept his eyes closed until you left the room.

He really wanted a few more quiet moments with you, but he thought you probably wanted to talk to Sadie.

When he sat up, he heard the television was on as the two of you had a small conversation. The few words he could hear made him lightly chuckle.

Getting up, he saw that you had added his coat on top of the pile of everything else. Moving it aside, he grabbed his shirt and put it on but left it hanging open.

That's when he heard the television go silent.

"You better tell me before I force it from you," he heard Sadie say.

Knowing what she was probably referring to, he was going to go back to the bed and check his phone, but something kept him in place. There was an urge to know what you thought.

A smile crawled across his lips as he listened to the way you described last night. He lost himself in his own memory of the moment. The whole time, his heart felt like it was going to fail him, he was so happy.

"Then, the kiss..." he heard as you trailed off. A flicker of panic filled him as he thought you were going to say that you were disappointed or anything negative.

Quickly, though, that was forgotten as he noticed that your words sounded a lot lighter than that. It sounded like you lost yourself in the thought of the moment like he did.

Then, you said something he wasn't expecting. You had said something that filled him with some sort of pride. You said, "It helped me forget every bad experience I ever had."

There was more said, of course, but that was what resonated with him the most.

Remembering his surroundings, he finally moved from that spot. It was probably time to actually head out to see you. Maybe he'd be able to get a moment with you before he had to leave.

-

“I’m texting Siara and Paisley right now.”

You were about to protest but she immediately waved you off.

“Don’t bother. I typed it up while you were talking. I just sent it. You never do learn to always keep your eyes on me,” she said with a chuckle.

Facepalming, you shook your head at the fact that you thought you could actually stop her, and to also hide the embarrassment you felt. At least you knew that it was to the other two people you trusted.

The sound of your bedroom door opening distracted you as you watched Ben walk, well more like shuffle, out. He was still wearing what he was from last night but with his button-up left open.

Rubbing his eyes as he adjusted to the bright room, you giggled at the sight of his hair. It was a great difference from his usual neatly kept style. 

Pouring a cup of coffee for him, you left some room for any cream or sugar he put in. Handing it over, he thanked you.

Hearing his deeper grumble for a morning voice surprised you. The English accent seemed to be a bit more prominent as well.

“Well, good morning hot shot,” Sadie greeted him with her playful tone.

“I definitely don’t feel like one.”

Ben rested his head on his hand as he leaned against the counter. Though he acted like he was overly tired, he had a smile on his face that you were sure you could only see.

He then said, “If I didn’t say it before, I’m saying it now. I am anything but a morning person.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, mainly because you knew it was the exact opposite. That's when you knew he was doing this so that you could see his actual happiness so that Sadie wouldn't quiz him more.

"Well, I'll leave you to liven up a bit," Sadie said as she got up from the couch, making her way to her room and closing the door.

At first you were confused until you realized that she’s probably getting ready to leave. Her flight was later that afternoon.

Turning back to look at Ben, you said, “Thank you. For last night.”

He looked up at you looking slightly confused.

“For everything. I haven’t had someone say something wasn’t my fault like that since Sadie moved away for work.”

As he stayed leaning against the counter, you couldn't help but play with his hair. It was more with the intention to tame the layers more than playing around with the messiness.

“So you’re telling me, people don't reassure you when something isn't your fault? So you just think it’s really your fault?” He looked so taken aback as he continued, "Does anyone ever try to do this?"

All you did was slowly shake your head. The expression he had was one of disappointment.

“Well, you don’t have to thank me. To me, people should always do that. And for you? I will always make sure you know that things are almost never your fault.”

His emphasis of almost made you chuckle. It was something that quickly shifted the mood to a lighter one.

Then, he straightened up and pulled you the single step to be brought up against him. Easily, you nuzzled into his neck as he placed a kiss to the top of your head.

"I should be the one thanking you," he said into your hair.

"For what?"

"Showing me what it's like to forget all the bad things in the world," he said softly.

Did this mean he really did hear you earlier? At this point, it didn't matter. If he did hear you, that meant he now knew how you truly felt.

Pulling back, the two of you shared a kiss before resuming your previous positions. As Ben leaned, you once again played around with his hair.

Soon after that, Sadie came out of her room with the packed bags. She never only brought one even if she was only here for a single day.

“So you take forever to get ready, but when it comes to packing, it takes you under ten minutes?” you said this with a playful tone. “Are you that eager to get away from me and my service?” This you said with a laugh, the other two joining in.

Containing her laughter, Sadie gathered herself just enough to say, “Oh yeah, this Air B and B is terrible. The owner was still here,” with a sarcastic tone.

The rest of the morning was spent drinking coffee and having small discussions on a variety of topics. Thankfully, politics was not one of them.

Ben had left not long before noon, saying he needed to do some prep for the next day of work. This had left you and Sadie alone, and she had something to say.

“So,” she started, “to start off, Siara and Paisley had the reaction of school girls watching a romance movie.”

Even though you weren’t surprised, you couldn’t help but laugh and playfully roll your eyes.

“What I want to say most, though, is that you couldn’t have done better than him.” A smile spread across your face as she continued, “Ben is like one of the guys you would only see in a movie, but he’s actually real. I could only dream of finding a guy like him. Plus, he’s a lawyer.” Sadie said this with a playful push to your shoulder.

Outright happiness filled you to the brim as you knew that the person you trusted most had respected your decision. Not only that, but she gave you the confirmation that you had needed. Now you could go along without worrying every second that something would go horribly wrong.

Later on, you helped Sadie pack her things in the cab she had called and gave her a hug goodbye.

"Don't burn the house down while I'm gone," she yelled to you before sucking into the car.

This was in reference to when you accidentally set a pan on fire while cooking once. There were actually many other instances where something went wrong, but nothing too bad happened. You were a decent cook, but you had the occasional hiccup.

Watching the car pull away, you felt lonely. Sadie was the last of the company you had for the day.

Going into the house made it even more evident with how alone you were. The now empty spare room with a made bed that would hardly be used, the mugs that were used that had already been cleaned and put away, and the silence all added together.

Walking into your room, you looked to see the blanket on the side Ben had slept on had been placed neatly back to its original position. Remembering his sleeping face brought warmth that flowed through you.

Then, as you looked over to the shelf, you saw that Ben had left his tie.

Quickly grabbing your phone, you messaged him about it.

In response, he said that you could stop by his place unless you’d rather him come back over to grab it. You already knew you wanted to go to him.

The wanting to know if he was telling the truth about how his apartment looked raced through your mind.

I'll come to you.

Can't wait.

Next>>

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo @madmax2003

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Vacation

This is my very fluffy @marveltrumpshate fic for @twentyghosts, whose wonderful stories made me fall in love with Science Bros. I hope you like it.

Many thanks to @whumphoarder and @sallyidss for beta reading!

___________

“This is ridiculous,” Tony moans, letting himself sink down on his backside to slide down a steep passage of the hill, his injured foot carefully stretched out in front of him. “For the record, this is the last time you get to plan our vacation.”

“You know, this is easily my fifth hiking trip in the Himalayas and the first time someone managed to get injured by tripping over their own feet on a perfectly straight road,” counters Bruce.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in...” Tony mutters, then winces when his ankle bounces on a stone and pain shoots up his leg.

“Hey.” Bruce’s expression sobers. “You sure you don’t want me to call for medevac?”

“I am not calling for medevac because I sprained my ankle on a vacation,” Tony retorts, already picturing the field day Barton would have upon hearing about it. Then seeing as Bruce is about to protest, adds, “And no, Bruce, it’s not broken. I think by now I should know what a broken bone feels like.” He uses a nearby branch to lever himself back upright and grits his teeth when he puts weight on his right foot. “Besides, we’re almost back—I think I can see the village down there.”

That was a bit optimistic. By the time they reach the village where they stayed the previous night, it’s already late evening and the sun has long since set. Tony is glad for his arc technology-powered flashlight that makes it possible for them to find a path in the dark forest covering the mountains.

They slowly make their way back through the village road—Tony’s arm slung around Bruce’s shoulders and his lips pressed tightly together, politely declining any offers of help from the few villagers that are still awake—before finally reaching their rental car.

Tony leans heavily against the driver’s side, glad to take the weight off his foot for a bit. He’s exhausted and feeling kind of shaky, which, he realises after hearing a loud growl from his stomach, might be because the last thing he ate was breakfast at the homestay that morning. It was only supposed to be a short hike up the mountain; they’d planned to leave for the city before dark after eating in the village, but then Tony’s foot had thwarted their plans.

Tony fumbles for the car keys in his pocket, then opens the door and lets himself fall inside with a groan. “Okay, let’s go,” he announces. “I hope the restaurants will still be open by the time we arrive—I’m fucking starving.” Then he realises that Bruce hasn’t made a move to get into the vehicle. 

“Brucie?” In the rearview mirror, he sees his partner take their suitcase out of the trunk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bruce says in the tone of someone talking to a very stubborn child.

“I’m driving us back.”

Bruce scoffs. “No, not with that foot of yours, you’re not. How are you gonna work the pedals?”

“Fine,” Tony says in the most provocative tone he can muster, “then you drive us back.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “You know I don’t drive on these mountain roads, Tony. Especially not at night.”

Tony shrugs. “It’s your choice, darling.”

“This is not a choice at all!” Bruce says in frustration. “Don’t be ridiculous. Neither of us can drive tonight. You can barely walk.”

“You’re the one being ridiculous,” Tony declares. “If you’re not driving, then I am. This is nothing compared to what I’ve worked through on missions.”

“But this is not a mission.” Bruce bends down to the window, a softer expression on his face now. “Come on, Tony, there’s no need for you to prove anything to anyone. Let’s just spend another night at the homestay. We’ll ice your ankle and see how it’s looking tomorrow morning. I’d feel terrible making you drive for three hours while being in pain like this.”

Tony’s pride tells him (in Howard’s voice, of course) to just suck it up and drive anyway. But then his eyes meet Bruce’s warm ones and he feels his resistance melt. “Fine, whatever,” he agrees. “But I hope we can get a decent dinner there...”

*

When they reach the homestay, the lights are already out, and Tony’s hope for dinner extinguishes with them. 

“Didn’t you want to go back to the city?” their host’s grown-up daughter, Radhika, asks them when she opens the door. She is dressed in a colourful long nightshirt and a warm shawl, her usually braided black hair falling over her shoulder. 

“Yeah, we had a small…incident,” Bruce replies. He gestures to Tony’s foot, which is held awkwardly out in front of him. 

“Oh, I see,” Radhika replies with a frown, then turns to shout over her shoulder, “Mata!”

Moments later, her mother—an elderly woman wearing the same combination of clothes—appears in the doorway and ushers them inside. She, Bruce, and Radhika start a conversation in Hindi, with Bruce evidently explaining their situation. 

“She says her older daughter is a doctor in the hospital down in the city—it’s about four or five hours from here if we take a bus that leaves at six in the morning,” Bruce translates to Tony. “We can stay here overnight, but the room we had yesterday is already taken by other guests. They are offering us their spare room.”

“Fantastic...” Tony grumbles, grimacing both at the prospect of having to get up before sunrise and the word “spare room”, but it’s not like they have many other options. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Bruce nods and turns back to their hosts. Tony can’t understand the words, but he definitely makes out some English numbers in between.

“Bruce, are you seriously haggling right now?” he interrupts. “Maybe you’ve forgotten in the last few hours, but I am an actual billionaire.”

“Sorry, sorry, force of habit…” Bruce mutters, rubbing a hand over his brow. A few sentences later they seemed to have agreed on a price and Radhika takes the suitcase from Bruce’s hand to bring it to the spare room.

“Are you hungry?” the elder woman asks in heavily-accented English.

“Starving,” Tony agrees immediately.

“Tony!” Bruce scolds. “They’ve already had their dinner—they were about to go to sleep.” 

He says something in Hindi to their host and another discussion ensues, which Bruce apparently loses.

“Great, now she’s staying up later to cook for us.” Bruce sighs, visibly uncomfortable.

Tony knows that Bruce doesn’t like anyone working for him, but Tony’s stomach is so empty that, combined with the pain in his foot, he feels almost nauseous. He’s sure that Bruce must be hungry as well. “We’ll give them a big tip, okay?” 

Bruce bites his lip and nods. 

Twenty minutes later, Tony is sitting on a plastic chair next to the freshly-lit fire in the middle of the family’s courtyard, His foot is resting on a pillow on a small stool with an ice pack (made from actual ice, thanks to the Himalayas) wrapped around the ankle. Now that the hiking boot has come off, it’s visibly swollen and pulsing in time with his heartbeat, and although Tony hasn’t admitted it to Bruce, he thinks that maybe he’ll have to correct his earlier statement about being sure that it’s not broken. According to Bruce, nothing can be done except for keeping it still and iced until they can get an x-ray done at the hospital tomorrow. 

“Isn’t Indian food supposed to be spicy?” Tony mutters under his breath, slashing his spoon around in something that looks suspiciously like algae soup, except that it can’t be algae, because, well, Himalayas. “And tasty?”

Bruce frowns and gestures for him to keep his voice down. “I told you before, different regions have different dishes. India’s more of a continent than a country—things here are different than in Delhi or Mumbai. There is actually no such thing as Indian food, you know.”

“Still, I could have done with spicy now…” Tony grumbles. “This tastes like the stuff Steve makes when he gets nostalgic about the 40s.”

Bruce gestures him to be quiet and this time Tony obeys. He eats a bit more, and, despite the rather bland taste, feels his bad mood receding more the fuller his stomach gets. After dinner, Radhika brings them chai—for which Bruce thanks her profusely—and then settles down next to them, followed soon by her mother.

India, in Tony’s head, has always been a synonym for poverty, which is a bit weird because compared to Tony, almost everyone on the planet is poor. But as Bruce has been slowly showing him since their arrival, there is no one such thing as poverty—its appearance varies from city to village. Poverty can mean anything from not being able to afford a place to stay or sturdy shoes to wear, to living in a large farmhouse but going hungry because the crops were ruined by the last thunderstorm, to having a comfortable life but still being unable to afford a life-saving surgery due to lack of health insurance (which, as Bruce added, is not actually very different from the US). 

Tony has seen his fair share of India’s high society—which, to be frank, is not much different from US high society (except for prettier, more colourful clothing and better food). He’s always imagined the rest of the country outside of luxurious hotels and glamourous wedding celebrations to be a mixture of the slums he’s seen from his car window while driving through the city and international aid commercials with dirty children begging for someone to feed them. 

While all these realities certainly exist somewhere in India, he hasn’t really ever thought of everyone living in between both of the extremes—people like Radhika and her family, who don’t seem to fit into any of the stereotypes shown on CNN. He knows that one of the reasons Bruce took him on this low-budget holiday was to show him some of those realities, and Tony has to admit that he now has a much better idea about why Bruce sometimes misses the country so much—chai definitely being one of them, he thinks while watching his partner blow into the steam curling up from his cup.

They are sitting quietly, sipping their tea. Tony notices a black cat watching them from the shadow of the other side of the patio. He stretches out his hand and idly wiggles his fingers to make it come closer, but the cat just keeps on sitting, its gaze now slightly judgemental. 

“Oh, she doesn’t like to cuddle,” Radhika comments. “But she knows everything that’s going on in the village, I tell you. She’s a spy.” 

“Natasha,” Tony states, turning towards Bruce, who snickers into his chai. “We found Natasha’s Indian counterpart.”

“I wonder how the cat’s interrogation techniques compare,” muses Bruce.

“Let’s not find out,” replies Tony. “I’ve already got one injured joint, thank you.”

Radhika giggles at that. 

“What’s so funny?” Tony asks, slightly irritated.

“It’s just…” she hesitates, visibly trying to contain a grin. “You are Iron Man. I mean, you defeated aliens and supervillains and all that…and then you sprain your ankle during a hiking trip.”

“Very funny,” Tony huffs. The corners of Bruce’s lips twitch.

“So if we take the bus in the morning, what about the car?” he changes the topic, suddenly realising the flaw in their plan. He gestures at his foot, then at Bruce. “You won’t let me drive, you won’t drive on your own—how are we supposed to get it back to the rental company?”

Radhika looks at her mother and says something. The woman shrugs and then gives one of those sideways head shakes Tony has seen Bruce do when he’s getting interrupted deep in his thoughts and forgets he’s not in Kolkata anymore—it means yes, he’s learned. “I can drive the car,” Radhika offers.

Tony looks at her critically. “No offence, but I was kinda planning to get back to New York in one piece.”

“Most people born in the village know the mountain roads by heart,” she says, “My sister visits us once a month and drives all the way with her tata, and sometimes I drive her back when I go to the city. I’ll drive the route regularly once I start my engineering college next year. With your fancy car it will be even easier.”

“Then we wouldn’t have to get up at five…” Bruce thinks aloud with a side glance at Tony.

“Well, that’s a compelling argument,” Tony agrees with a sigh. “Fine, kid, just try not to kill us.” He gets an angry look from Bruce for this. 

Radhika smiles. Her mother collects the now empty cups and disappears towards the kitchen, shaking her head at Bruce’s offer to help her. 

Radhika disappears for a few minutes and returns with a deck of cards. “Do you know Court Piece?”

They spend the next hour playing cards with Radhika, her mother, and eventually her father, who joins after being woken up by their laughter. Her mother turns out to be a cunning player, and together with Tony, their team wins the majority of rounds. Eventually, the family turns in, leaving Bruce, Tony, and Natasha-The-Cat at the smoldering campfire.

“The sky is so clear in the mountains,” Bruce states, leaning back in his plastic chair and gazing upwards. “You can see the Milky Way.”

Tony nods, looking straight ahead. Ever since the Battle of New York, stargazing isn’t really on the list of his favourite activities anymore—but then, seeing Bruce’s fascination, he takes a deep breath and holds onto his partner’s jacket a bit to ground himself before turning his head upwards. The Milky Way is clearly visible, and he has to admit, breathtakingly beautiful.

They stay out for a while longer until the fire dies down and the mountain cold starts to seep through their layers of high-quality hiking clothes and into their bones. The toes of Tony’s bad foot have gone from painful to numb and they decide to turn in before they start to fall off. Bruce helps Tony to their spare room, Tony teasingly kissing his neck and earlobe while leaning on him.

Radhika had told them that she put an electric heater in their room, but when they enter, they find it colder than outside, the heater dead on the ground. Bruce’s attempt to switch it on doesn’t yield any results.

“We can’t wake them up again,” Bruce says with a look at Tony, visibly steeling himself for an argument. “It’s the middle of the night and they already stayed up so long to cook for us.”

“What are you saying, Bruce? You’re travelling with your own personal on-call mechanic.” Tony grunts, already lowering himself down to the ground. “Let me take care of this baby.”

The device, however, proves to be as stubborn as the engineer trying to fix it. Fifteen minutes later, Tony is literally shaking and by now it’s not just his toes he can’t feel anymore, but also his fingers.

“I would need a soldering iron for this,” he complains. “The fuse is blown and it’s impossible to reconnect the wires without it.” 

“Shh...” Bruce lays a warm palm over his lips and hugs Tony from behind. His body heat is wonderful—Tony feels himself melting into his partner. “Come to bed,” Bruce admonishes. 

“Well, that’s a sentence I love to hear,” Tony replies with a lascivious grin. Stretching his arm behind himself and letting his fingers run down Bruce’s neck, Tony finds himself suddenly not having any issue leaving the device alone. 

However, having sex turns out to be harder than it reasonably should. 

The blanket is warm, but it seems to be filled with living geese instead of feathers since it weighs approximately 20 pounds. After wiggling his head free to stop the threatening feeling of suffocation, Tony manages to actually enjoy Bruce’s teasing and reciprocate appropriately. They have worked their way out of their shirts and Bruce is in the process of removing their pants when he jostles Tony’s foot and the engineer can’t suppress a yelp of pain. 

“I’m sorry!” Bruce exclaims, “I’m so sorry, Tony, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Tony grunts, angry at himself for letting it slip. “Just, get on with it.”

Bruce frees himself from his half-lying position on Tony and almost topples down from the bed. Tony pulls him back in, biting his lip when his injured foot acts up again, but then concentrates on the arguably very distracting other things he’s got to do. After another five intense minutes of making out, Bruce pauses in the middle of a kiss. 

“What?” Tony moans, his teeth impatiently reaching for his partner’s lower lip. 

“Just remembered that the condoms are at the bottom of the suitcase,” Bruce mumbles. 

“For god’s sake,” Tony curses. “It’s fine, I’ll go get them.”

“No, stay there, you’re not supposed to put weight on your foot…” Bruce extricates himself from both his partner’s embrace and the blanket before Tony can stop him. 

Tony watches his boyfriend tiptoe over the ice-cold floor towards the suitcases, goosebumps forming all over his body, and start rummaging around. Then he notices the cursed cat has been sitting right next to their bags since god-knows-when, watching their mostly-naked forms with slitted eyes and definitely judging them now. 

“I am s-so sure that I packed them back in after w-we used them in that hotel in D-Delhi…” Bruce sighs, rummaging through their belongings. 

“God, Bruce, get back in here—I can hear your teeth chattering…” Tony sighs. 

Bruce looks up with a guilty expression and definitely blue lips. “I don’t even know if I can do anything with the cat watching us,” he admits. 

Tony opens the blankets half an inch in what is supposed to be an inviting gesture and his partner crawls back in, pressing himself against Tony as his whole body shakes. 

“I can still try to do so-something nice for you with my h-hands,” Bruce whispers, “just l-let me warm up a little.”

“Sure, Bruciebear…” Tony teases, his voice the kind of sugarcoated that he’d never thought he’d use in any way except sarcasm. He feels a little saccharine though as he lies there, holding tightly onto Bruce’s soft body somewhere in the middle of the cold mountains. 

Bruce’s shivering stops after a bit and a few minutes later, his breaths even out. Tony knows he won’t be able to sleep—the pounding in his injured foot is harder to ignore now that there is no distraction, and he’s not sleepy at all. It’s not that Tony doesn’t get tired; it’s just that the times he is and the times he is lying in an actual bed rarely ever coincide. 

As he lies in the darkness listening to Bruce’s quiet snores, it occurs to him that he hasn’t checked his emails once since they left Delhi. Bruce would probably count this as a win in his plan to take Tony on a different kind of holiday and get his mind off SI-related projects and Iron Man. Tony briefly considers taking out his tablet and catching up with work, but then decides against it. It’s mostly because the thought of getting out of the blanket is not at all appealing, but also because he realises it’s been a while since Bruce slept like that in his arms and holding him feels... well, not bad. 

Tony’s frequent nightmares always make themselves known—he will squirm and shift in his sleep, sometimes mumble or even moan when they get really bad—and if Bruce is around, he always wakes him up before it comes to that point. Bruce, on the other hand, dreams absolutely silently. It’s only when he takes in a short, sharp breath and stiffens in Tony’s embrace that he realises his partner is awake. 

“You okay, Big Green?” Tony asks softly. 

“Hmm,” Bruce mumbles, not very convincingly. He takes a few moments to ground himself, shift around and calm his now quick and shallow breaths, before his eyes settle on Tony. “You know, I always say I liked my time in Kolkata,” he says. “And I did. But I was still on the run, and it was never… never safe, you know? I always felt like I might have to leave any day. Sometimes it’s just hard to shake that feeling.”

"Well, this time you get to stay right here," Tony says, reaching for his partner’s hand under the blanket and squeezing it tight. "And thank god for that because we're not fleeing anywhere fast on this ankle," he adds with a huff of humour.

"Is it bad?" Bruce sounds concerned again—the exact opposite of what Tony was going for. "Do you need some more ice?"

"Nah," Tony dismisses with a flap of his hand. "I'll just stick it out of the blanket and let that famous Indian-Arctic air take care of it."

Bruce finally gives a short laugh at that and starts to settle down again before stopping suddenly. "We've got company," he observes.

“What?” Tony’s eyes dart to the door. 

Bruce motions his head to the foot of the bed, where that damn Natasha-Cat has curled into a ball, a foot’s distance from Tony’s toes. “I guess that’s a compliment?” Bruce ventures. “She’s watching over us.”

“Or maybe she’s making sure that we don’t go anywhere else before she and her feline associates can kill us in the morning,” Tony retorts. “Cats are unpredictable.”

“I think you’re thinking of Nats, not cats,” Bruce says, curling back up under the blanket and shifting closer to Tony.

“Telling her you said that,” Tony mutters.

“Just go to sleep, Tony…”

*

The morning comes with rays of sunlight creeping through the gap under the door and the dusty window. Tony did get bored in the night after all and, after a couple of fruitless attempts to train Natasha to bring over his bag, he crept out of the bed himself to gather his StarkPad. Now the cat is sitting on the window pane above the bed, intently watching the light reflections on his screen. 

Bruce wakes up when Radhika knocks on the door to bring them two cups of steaming chai and biscuits. 

“Did you sleep at all after my nightmare?” he asks after thanking her and setting the tray on the bed. 

“I was watching over you,” Tony replies cheesily. “Well, that and saving our Nigerian subsidiary from a diplomatic crisis.” Tony takes the cup of tea and carefully sits fully up against the headboard.

“How’s your foot?”

Tony grimaces. “Trying to win the competition for the world's largest eggplant.”

The ankle is swollen even more than the previous day and now a mottled green and blue colour. Bruce prods a few places and then decides that driving is not an option and getting to the hospital is the priority.

After having breakfast and packing (under Natasha’s watchful gaze), Tony thanks the family for their hospitality and leaves a generous tip before getting into the car.

Bruce sits on the passenger seat next to Radhika and Tony positions himself sideways on the backseat, the injured ankle stretched out. It quickly becomes evident that Radhika wasn’t exaggerating about her driving skills. She makes her way down the steep mountain safely, and admittedly, takes the sudden sharp turns much smoother than Tony did on their way up. 

Radhika and Bruce start talking about Arundhati Roy’s newest book and then get into an argument about whether one should give money to beggars, only half of which is led in English. Tony feels himself zone out, tiredness finally taking over. He lets his head rest back against the window and watches the mountains slowly give way to hills as they get closer to the city.

Half asleep already, he thinks that despite everything, maybe he will let Bruce choose their next vacation after all.

____________

All my fics

[ajadedflame]

JADE > BIO > STATS // TEMPLATE SPRINGBOARD >

REMEMBER THINGS MAY POTENTIALLY DEVIATE FROM WHAT IS SHOWN IN THIS BIOGRAPHICAL. DEVELOPMENT OF MUSE IS ALWAYS ONGOING AND PREFERRED IN ACTUAL PLOT.

STATISTICAL BIO

FULL NAME NAME: Jade Grace Winthrope

NICKNAMES: Jai

AGE: 27

D.O.B: April 9, 2012

BIRTHPLACE: Howell, MI

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Detroit, MI

PLACEMENT: Apartment 3rd floor

GENDER: Female

PRONOUNS: She/Her

ORIENTATION: Heterosexual

AFFILIATION: DPD

JOB TITLE: Forensic Analyst

FACE CLAIM: Shailene Woodley

HAIR COLOR: Brunette / Sometimes Dyes Blonde

EYE COLOR: Green

HEIGHT: 5′8″ / 170 cm

BUILD: Slim

LANGUAGE(S): English

ACCENT: American

TATTOOS: Small Vine // Left Wrist

PIERCINGS: Ears

STYLE: Casual Dress, Comfort, Chiffon, Lace, Moderate formal: Blouses, Long sleeved Tops, jeans, fashionable trousers, athletic // yoga, sneakers & flats, sun dresses, heels & long dresses in formal settings only; Accessories: watch, studded earrings, earphones, phone, forensic data pad

USUAL EXPRESSION: Pleasant, Open, Smiling

ADDICTIONS: Tea (Chamomile, Earl Grey, Herbal, Oolong, White)

ALCOHOL USE: Not a heavy drinker at all. Will do it on occasion and/or socially

DRUG USE: Nope // Not if you count Advil for headaches

EXTRAS:

SIGN: Aries

ELEMENT: Fire sign but personally leans toward Earth

MBTI: ESFJ

TEMPERAMENT: Phlegmatic

ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good

HOGWART’S HOUSE: Ravenclaw

FACTION: Erudite

PRIMARY VICE: Envy // at times Jade envies people who have no care in the world, no problems or worries and sometimes wonders if it would make her life easier to feel the same way

PRIMARY VIRTUE: Charity // she tries to be generous and kind to people even if some might not deserve it

FAVES:

WEATHER: Spring

COLOR: Green

MUSIC: New Age, Alternative, Folk

MOVIES: Adventure, Romance, Film Noir, Science/Criminology Documentaries

SPORT: Does Yoga count?

BEVERAGE: Tea

FOOD: Pasta // Italian cuisine

ANIMAL: Dogs, Horses

POSITIVE TRAITS

Determined

Friendly

Honest

Romantic

NEGATIVE TRAITS

Impulsive

Pessimistic

Quick-Tempered

Stubborn

GOALS

Working efficiently for DPD

Networking with colleagues

Acquiring further knowledge/on site skills in forensics

Cracking a big case with extensive DNA analysis

Connecting with more people

Finding love // romantic at heart

FEARS

Losing family

Not being good enough at her job

Unable to find her true purpose in life

friends turning their back // she had a bad past experience

Losing any person she cares for

HOBBIES:

Yoga / Jogging

Book collecting: Physical, Classic Lit, Science Textbooks, Criminology &     Forensics Encyclopedias

Sketching: A little here and there for relaxation

Swimming: If only she could get out of the city to a beach

Horse Riding // grew up on a farm with two chestnuts

FAMILY:

MOTHER - Rebecca Winthrope née Stevens (Status: Alive)

FATHER -  Matthew Winthrope (Status: Deceased) // car accident

SIBLINGS -  N/A (She’s a lonely only)

PETS -  pup beagle named Buster as a child

RELATIONSHIPS:

EX COLLEGE BOYFRIEND - He will remain nameless.

FORMER BEST FRIEND - Natalie Baker // Hasn’t seen her since college days

DPD  ASSOCIATES - Varies but most she gets along with.

OC’S - Jade is an OC herself. Give her OC friends, platonic, enemies, etc.

BIOGRAPHICAL

EARLY:

Jade grew up out of the city in a ranch house surrounded by Michigan’s natural beauty. Her parents made a living farming produce for the buyer’s market even as economic hardships set into the futuristic state. She was often surrounded by nature, growing fond of the few horses her father trained on the side and kept on the farm. As a young girl it was too easy to develop an affinity for equestrian and she loved to groom those two chestnuts. They were her biggest animals growing up and not just in size. Taking care of them was a lot of work but the family also called a mini Beagle named Buster part of the family.

Her childhood was honestly simple living. No bustle of any city to deal with at the time. Everything was fairly normal, close to both of her parents and several cousins who would come visit during summers from across the border in Canada.

Being a small town kind of girl had its perks in ways. Her early life is not exciting. There were not any  hardships she could honestly say had a negative impact on her growing up. While some might see this as her having the easy life, Jade is grateful. There are so many things could have gone wrong. Luckily for her she didn’t have to go through that.

LATER:

A dream was making it to college to study forensic sciences. She honestly got hooked on the subject at an early age. Honestly she is quite the film noir buff and while she didn’t head into detective work it did start to push her in that direction. Jade did her absolute best in college. It wasn’t easy by a long stretch. Focusing on work did cause some personal problems to pop up. Her boyfriend really began pressuring her constantly about their relationship. She wanted to keep things straight and not wind up an unwed single mother whose career tanked before it even began. If he honestly loved her he could wait and stop adding more onto her shoulders.

Unfortunately Jade discovered her best friend and him fooling around behind her back. It hardly stopped there. Natalie, former best friend in current life events, decided to spread rumors about Jade being the offender in this non love triangle. It was a bundle of lies that cemented Jade’s caution in developing new friendships. With everything else piling on, receiving news about her father in a serious car wreck, she just had it. Natalie was her friend since they were kids but it seemed that friendship meant little. She didn’t take any excuse her boyfriend, who will remain nameless, gave her. Jade did herself a favor and broke up with him. It certainly was the easiest thing she could do at the time as her father’s condition deteriorated. He died from the accident and it made her realize the importance of life.

While it was difficult it showed her that she should focus on the now. It made her more determined. Even if her relationship with her father grew a bit more distant as he got older she never loved him any less. Maybe it had something to do with her branching out into the big city. He just thought she wasn’t cut out for it. Even before his death, right at the cusp of her private problems there was something missing. Jade could never hold a grudge against him but she’s angry she never had a chance to finally talk about it. Instead he died before she could even make it to the hospital.

After this she threw herself into her studies. Keeping in touch with her mother was spotty. It wasn’t due to the fact she didn’t want to be there. She tried every step of the way but her mother was having a bad time of it. Depression set in and it was one thing Jade couldn’t fix. College changed her in ways. It wasn’t just life experiences there. It was all that changed during her time there. Family life certainly altered after what happened. Maybe it made her a little stronger. Who knows? She still doesn’t know herself.

CURRENT:

Jade has landed a job in the city which is completely different than her childhood roots. While she’s been out of the country for a while, especially when attending WCCCD in downtown Detroit, living in the city itself is quite the change. Currently working as a forensic tech analyst for the Detroit Police Department, she applies herself to the best of her ability and honestly loves what she does. It was always a goal of hers to make it somewhere to offer her skills in criminal analysis. She is content with the position and aims to help in whatever cases come her way.

She had a lot of opinions about the whole android revolution. Living in the center of it all in a nice but affordable apartment high rise sure put her in the thick. Watching everything unfold on the news was far too surreal. Jade always held a soft sympathetic spot for androids and was all too happy to see them win their freedom and rights.

DEPENDING ON VERSE SHE COULD HAVE INTERACTIONS WITH ANDROIDS DURING THE REVOLUTION, ESPECIALLY THOSE AT THE DPD SINCE SHE WORKS THERE. IT JUST DEPENDS ON WHAT HAPPENS DURING PLOTTING. OTHERWISE SHE WOULD HAVE JUST BEEN A WITNESS TO IT AS EVERYONE ELSE NOT DIRECTLY INVOLVED.

The forensic analyst is very pro-android. She sees them as people, sentient beings who are alive with the same purpose as humans. Getting to work alongside them is eye opening. She wants to help any she can in all honesty. She has strong opinions on this so it’s natural for her. While it might not be her job, she can certainly give as much as she does to the DPD to those outside on the street just searching for something.

Working on current cases gives her ample opportunity as more involving androids come into the equation. Using the latest tech to do her job offers the needed help but Jade finds it a challenge she’s been looking for. Currently she is mixed up in a serial killer case, using tech skills in order to synthesize evidence to track them down. While they know little of this individual’s identity, Jade is attempting to apply new standards of technology to connect and track to the perpetrator. Some factual evidence suggests they could possibly be android. This makes things difficult as she tries to decide which method is best used.

[bowsie22]

Chuyao Collection 10

Summary: The war with the English starts and Bai Youning returns to Shanghai alone. Where is Lu Yao? And who’s this person going around killing the English?

Salim walked into Chusheng’s office, throwing another folder onto his desk. Groaning, Chusheng picked it up, flicking through it.

“Another dead Englishman?”

“Yep, throat slit, badly beaten with some defensive wounds.”

“And let me guess? Bite marks and scratch marks on his back, signs of recent sexual activity?”

“Just like some of the others.”

In the five months since Lu Yao had left Shanghai, fifteen Englishmen had been found dead in the street, clubs and brothels of the city. Eight killed with a blade, seven shot to death. Each man had defensive wounds with signs of a fight and nine showed signs of recent sexual activity. The police had no leads and no clues. The gangs were just as clueless, if not a bit thankful.

And Chusheng had no idea what to do. Salim wasn’t wrong when he said they may have depended on Lu Yao a bit too much. Closing the folder, he ran his hands through his hair.

“Ok, here’s what we do.”

Before he could finish his sentence, a shout from outside his office interrupted him. He stared at Salim, wide eyed. The other man shook his head.

“No, no. It can’t be her! Please say it’s not her.”

“Go clean up the evidence room. Take as many officers as you need for help. I’ll deal with her.”

Her being Bai Youning apparently.

“Youning. This is a surprise. I though you’d still be on your honeymoon. Why are you back in Shanghai?”

Youning turned to her adopted brother, smirk on her face.

“I’m here to report my husband missing Chusheng. And I demand that you find him!”

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

After Youning’s declaration, Chusheng bundled her into the car, driving to her father’s. He was very confused. Last he had heard, they were in Germany, enjoying married life. Was that where Lu Yao had disappeared? But then why come back to Shanghai to declare him missing? None of this made sense.

“Chusheng? Chu-ge!”

Snapped out of his thoughts by Youning’s shout, Chusheng apologised, accepting the wine from Bai Qili.

“Youning, why did you come all the way back here to declare Lu Yao missing?”

Youning looked at him like he was stupid. Chusheng couldn’t say that he missed that.

“Because he’s here. I mean where else would he run except back to his precious inspector’s arms?”

How was he supposed to respond to that? Looking to Bai Qili, he was glad to see the disapproving glare sent his daughter’s way.

“Your husband is not here Youning. It would have been reported to me and Chusheng if he was.”

Youning laughed, wondering why they were lying to her. Realising that no one else was laughing, she trailed off.

“You’re serious? He’s not here? You’re not protecting him or hiding him away?”

Her father shrugged. Swearing, Youning threw her teacup onto the ground.

“Damnit! Then what am I supposed to do? I can’t go back to Germany, all the connections there were Lu Yao’s. I have no job, no home, nothing! What do I do?”

“You stay here. In this house.”

“A prison?”

Bai Qili slammed his hand on the table, having had enough of the young woman.

“For protection! We are at war you silly girl. And event though someone is killing the English, they’re still killing my men! I won’t put you at risk.”

“But daddy, I want to go back to my job.”

“No, it’s too dangerous. And frankly, you weren’t that great a writer. Do you know how much money you cost me making sure you didn’t get fired or sued? No, you’ll stay here with a guard at all times. To keep you safe. Chusheng, thank you for returning my daughter to me. Go home, get some rest. It’s been a tough few weeks.”

Chusheng wanted it known that he walked away from Youning screaming at her father, not ran away. Damnit, she was going to complicate things being back, wasn’t she? And where was Lu Yao? He drove home, thoughts of his younger friend running through his mind. Where was he? Was he safe? Was he alive? He opened his front door, trying to shake those thoughts out of his head. He needed to keep a clear head, there was too much going on for him to be distracted.

He froze as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose. No, wait, he did recognise that scent. That was Lu Yao’s hotpot. Chusheng unholstered his gun, slowly making his way to the kitchen. He strode into the kitchen, gun up. Lu Yao turned away from the pot on the stove, grinning at his friend.

“Chusheng, you’re just in time. Set the table, would you?”

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

In a daze, Chusheng did everything Lu Yao asked. He supposed that wasn’t too different from normal, was it? They sat down to eat and Chusheng finally shook himself out of his daze.

“Lu Yao? What the fuck? Where have you been? Why are you here? How did you get here?”

“Chusheng, relax. I’ll tell you after we eat. You’ve lost weight, you clearly haven’t been eating properly.”

He never could say no to those pleading eyes. Taking his first bite, it was difficult to hold back his moan. God, he had missed Lu Yao’s cooking. He finished eating his serving and then a second and a third serving. Lu Yao watched the entire time, a fond smile on his face. Eventually, he was finished, pushing his plate away. It was quickly scooped up by Lu Yao who headed to the kitchen.

“Nope. Come back here and tell me what the hell is going on. How long have you been back?”

Lu Yao smirked, sipping from his glass.

“When was the first Englishman killed?”

“You’ve been here for 3 months? Why didn’t you come to me?”

“Chusheng, what do you know about the Red Room?”

Chusheng scoffed. Really, Lu Yao was going to start this now?

“It’s a legend, a myth, a fairy tale.”

Again, the puppy eyes. And again, Chusheng gave in.

“Parents hand their children over to the government to be trained as state assassins. But it’s bullshit. What kind of parent would do that?”

“I was eight.”

The laughter froze in his throat, Chusheng staring at the younger man, horrified.

“Lu Yao, what?”

Lu Yao man smiled sadly, gaze fixed on his hands which rested on the table.

“When my father handed me over to the Red Room. I was eight years old. I spent ten years learning hand to hand combat, weapons and seduction. Then they sent me off to England to train and do some work.”

“All the murders over the past few weeks, they’ve been you.”

“The government doesn’t want a gang war starting. I was given a choice, them or you.”

“And you chose them.”

Lu Yao reached out to hold Chusheng’s hand, a small smile on his face.

“I will always choose you. Chusheng I could never hurt you.”

“You married Youning.”

Flinching, Lu Yao drew away, curling into himself.

“Shit Lu Yao, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know how important you are to me Lu Yao. You know how I much I love you. That’s why it hurt so much when you married her.”

“I’m not married to her. I signed a fake name, but she never noticed. I could never marry her Chusheng, not when I was so in love with you. But I knew I couldn’t do my job when I stood at your side. I couldn’t bring you back into that world of violence and murder. Not when you’ve worked so hard to escape it.”

“So, you left. And now you’re back. Because your work is finished?”

“No, but I missed you too much. I couldn’t stay away. Not when I saw how tired you look.”

“I haven’t been sleeping well. Wait, you’ve been watching me?”

Lu Yao blushed. It was stupidly attractive on his pale skin.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you since I got back. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Chusheng nodded, moving to hold Lu Yao’s hand again.

“So, you’re here now. Killing people for the state. Are you here to stay?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Lu Yao, I’d never turn you away, you know that.”

They smiled at each other, both men happy for the first time in six months. Chusheng started to laugh as he realised something.

“Oh God, you have to tell Youning that you’re not married!”

A/N For some reason, Lu Yao fighting in the same style as Black Widow will not leave my head. So now it’s in yours!

[hedgehog-goulash7]

These Sherlock Holmes films have gone missing. UCLA and Robert Downey Jr. are on the case

LOS ANGELES TIMES, September 5, 2019

Text under the cut if you can’t link due to paywall...

                                                                                                                                    By Christi Carras,                                                                                     Sep. 5, 2019                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

More than a century after Arthur Conan Doyle published his first Sherlock Holmes mystery, a new investigation is afoot. But this story features more local detectives.

The UCLA Film & Television Archive and the Baker Street Irregulars, America’s foremost Sherlockian society, are on the case with “Searching for Sherlock: The Game’s Afoot,” a mission to recover and restore missing Holmes films from the silent era and beyond. The project, honorarily chaired by “Sherlock Holmes” franchise star Robert Downey Jr., reflects a continuing ongoing global fascination with Conan Doyle’s amateur detective that has spurred countless onscreen adaptations, lost and found.

“Sherlock Holmes is really an international phenomenon,” said Jan-Christopher Horak, director of the UCLA Film & Television Archive. “We decided that it would really be worthwhile to, first of all, do a research project and find out how many of these Sherlock Holmes films survived and in what condition, and what we at UCLA Film & TV archive could then do to preserve some of them.”

Horak estimates that more than 80% of American films from the silent era alone have been lost because of eroded prints, mislabeling, fires and other causes. Because the circumstances of their disappearances are so varied and unpredictable, it’s hard to say exactly how many Holmes adaptations wait to be discovered. But they are aware of some that may still be out there based on evidence of prints of long-lost films.

“It’s not like there’s a list anywhere,” Horak said. “I’m assuming that the great majority of the films from the silent era, when the most were actually made, are actually completely lost. But there are films that survived — that we know have survived.”

Finding the bygone works will, appropriately, require a bit of sleuthing, starting with contacting the Library of Congress and New York’s Museum of Modern Art, as well as historians, collectors and national film archives in Britain, Germany, France and other countries. Such efforts have seen previous success, particularly in the case of the missing 1916 Holmes production starring American actor William Gillette, which later turned up in 2014, mislabeled in Paris.

Like the best Holmes stories, the odds are daunting — but not impossible.

“Many of those hundreds [of films] are lost in the sense that there are no known copies,” said Baker Street Irregular and Malibu resident Leslie Klinger. “We know about the film, but nobody’s seen it for a generation or more. And we’re hoping that copies exist out there.”

While the hunt for Holmes officially kicked off last month,   obsession with Conan Doyle’s neurotic private eye is hardly novel. Conan Doyle’s page-turners were wildly popular when they debuted in late-1800s literary magazines. They’ve since inspired hundreds of books, TV series, movies, plays and even college curricula — as well as around 300 Holmes societies worldwide, from Canada to Japan.

“There aren’t many works of fiction — in English, at any rate — that are still read after over 100  years because people want to read them, not because they’re told to,” said Roger Johnson, a member of the Sherlock Holmes Society of London. “When I was at school — even when I was taking my degree in English — the idea of studying Sherlock Holmes would have been considered almost unthinkable. But people do now. ... It’s an extraordinary phenomenon, and it’s gotten bigger with the increase in Holmes onscreen.”

Klinger, known as “the world’s first consulting Sherlockian” for his advisory work on projects including the Downey Jr. movies, has some hunches as to why the Victorian-era detective continues to capture the imaginations of readers, viewers and artists to this day.

“I like to call him an attainable superhero,” Klinger said. “We don’t have to find a radioactive spider to bite us or be born on another planet. We just have to work really hard and study so that we can be like Sherlock Holmes.”

But like all heroes, even the great Holmes has his kryptonite, whether it comes in the form of substance abuse (cocaine was his drug of choice), red herrings or sharp-witted femme fatales such as Irene Adler.

“He’s not perfect,” Johnson said. “Even as a detective, he’s a great detective but he’s not perfect. He gets things wrong — occasionally — but it makes him more human, and that’s something we can relate to.”

In addition to Holmes’ appeal as an accessible yet fallible beacon of justice, some Sherlockians speculate that nostalgia also plays a role in luring audiences back to Baker Street. If anyone can deduce why Conan Doyle’s creations continue to inspire, it’s Nicholas Meyer, who authored and adapted the screenplay for “The Seven-Per-Cent Solution” — Oscar-nominated Holmes fan fiction — and is currently working on another Sherlockian caper titled “The Adventure of the Peculiar Protocols.”

“Holmes exists — or at least initially existed when Doyle created him — in a world that was long enough ago to seem like a kind of fairy tale place or a fairy tale time,” Meyer said. “Perhaps, a time we like to tell ourselves was a saner time.”

That logic only stretches so far, however, when it comes to more recent small-screen adaptations such as “Sherlock,” the Emmy-winning BBC series starring Benedict Cumberbatch, or “Elementary,” a CBS hit featuring Jonny Lee Miller as Holmes and — notably — Lucy Liu as a rare female version of Dr. Watson. Both shows update the timeline of their source material to modern day, trading hansom cabs for subways and limousines.

“It turns out that you can put these two people into almost any landscape,” Meyer said. “You can make Watson a woman; you can call them Batman and Robin — it doesn’t make any difference. It’s the same idea of heroes who are fighting against anarchy and trying to be right.”

Liu isn’t the only woman to portray Watson. “Miss Sherlock,” a Johnson-approved Japanese series, flips the genders of both the titular detective and his loyal companion. In fact, according to Johnson, discussions have even swirled among Sherlockian societies as to whether Conan Doyle intended Watson to be female all along.

“There is no real reason why Watson shouldn’t be a woman,” Johnson said. “You have to ignore things like his mustache ... but when you translate the character into a woman for dramatic presentation, it works.”

With all the changes and updates the Holmes stories have successfully adopted over time, it’s not easy to pinpoint the fundamental elements of a good Sherlock Holmes adaptation — even for film and Holmes scholars.

“I can think of a time when I would have said fidelity to the original story,” Johnson said. “It’s fidelity to the spirit of the originals. I think that’s what it is.”

With “Searching for Sherlock,” Horak hopes that the archive can screen and upload some newly restored Holmes material to its website within the next few years. Despite all the witty modernizations and computer-generated bells and whistles that have since embellished the Holmes canon, Sherlockians and film historians agree that the earliest Holmes films — should they be recovered — still have great potential to teach and dazzle 21st century audiences.

“It doesn’t really matter whether it’s silent or talkie; it doesn’t really matter whether there were fancy special effects or not,” Klinger said. “We’re going to be gripped by the personalities and intrigued by the mysteries and also be satisfied that reason has prevailed. Evil has been conquered.”

###

[notcatherinemorland]

More Hamlet Thoughts because i leave everything to the 11th hour . production continues to be the 2018 globe w/ Michelle Terry

Hamlet and Ophelia’s uhhhhh fight 

Ham’s personality twists into cruel mockery of her at the line ‘Where’s your father’ and OHO the facial expressions

Ophelia kept trying to hold onto Hamlet’s hand and body and curl her fingers around hamlet’s hand and it was very heartbreaking . Hamlet was a ball of chaotic energy who scrabbled her hands off himself. rlly interesting to watch

this turned around with hamlet scrubbing over her face as he presents her to the audience’s 4th wall for the make up lines. and shoves her down to the floor at the end

the physical manipulation hamlet takes out on ophelia is a super interesting segue to the players scene

2 b / x 2 b

ham sat in the middle of the front of the stage and held the hand of an audience member who he talked he speech to. very intimate and closed and really interesting interpretation

im a nerd so i really like the juxtaposition of such a grand and philosophical speech being told on such an intimate and small scale

Hamlet’s still got his smudged clown makeup on

hamlet and horatio come across Very gay in the ‘something too much of this’ line. i vibe 

hamlet decimated his friendship with R&G and i LOVED how Horatio held him and then forced him away to give him just a touch more character. this Ht loved R&G as well and i appreciate the bit of character we all try to give horatio

Horatio’s Emotions over R&G’s impending death is a++ give this man some emotional range

OH the ‘if your mind dislike anything, obey it’ can we PLEASE listen to horatio the lone voice of reason within elsinor’s halls

that’s not me being gay, that’s a legit analysis of Hamlet in that everyone in Elsinor has a twisted sense of reality and morality and Horatio as an outsider is immune and must watch in horror

the argument is flawed with R&G but hey it’s not my theory.

THE TRUMPETS . there’s live trumpets 

the music they played to signal the half time of the play was wonderfully dissonant and i VIBE WITH THAT that is the ENERGY of Elsinor right there

honestly im annoying and i don’t particularly care for the play scene as an audience member. like academically the play within a play is rife with analysis but like. to just sit and watch it feels like such a halt in the energy

plus i really dislike it when they use gross physical comedy in the dumb-show because again. im annoying

anyway they only do the dumb-show (more tollerable than a lot) and they use drum beats and purcussion in place of lines, and have hamlet explain what’s going on with his lines. it’s certainly different and its a lot quicker than the text is

This Claudius is Prime Smarmy Politicians and is very indignant as he tries to pray and i REALLY LIKE HIM

The scene transitions are .. non existent in this play and i LIKE IT 

the lines follow on immediately between scenes as the other characters are leaving the stage 

i love how it supports the theme of acting this play has and how it breaks down the barrier for the audience of personal vs private 

thats not quite what i want to say uhhhhh. in other productions some of the scenes are really discreet from each other- like how pearl necklaces have stoppers between the pearls- and that’s especially evident in films, but here it’s the opposite and the scenes bleed into each other to create a really fast paced and chaotic energy and i REALLY LIKE IT

‘personal vs private’ is on god my favourite theme in hamlet and the way it works with the audience creating it here is GREAT

Closet scene... OH BOY

this hamlet is CRUEL oml 

the ghost enters after hamlet spends 3 minutes berating his mother and she’s crying on the floor by the audience and hamlet immediately stops and starts weeping 

‘oh save me’ sounds so small and childlike and it really showcases the love between them

not that kind of love, sigmund fucking freud. get your mind out the gutter

the disdain hamlet has for gertrude absolutely breaks my heart but that’s a me thing because i haven’t been able to see my mother in person for coming up on a month due to quarantine :(

added an extra hug before ham leaves .. v sweet

Claudius comes barreling in and picks up ham’s dropped sword. :eye emoji: doesn’t put it down until Hamlet’s brought in for questioning. but he’s still holding a book (english dictionary presumably?) and this act of holding a sword for 2 scenes WILL be reiterated time and time again in ever hamlet essay i write forever to whatever end i so desire because it’s easy to manipulate to my own purposes. bless this moment

There’s a seagull that keeps interrupting claudius at perhaps the funniest possible moments in his soliloquies and honestly WHERE is it’s Olivier

Ophelia’s madness isn’t as explicit as it is in other versions, but watching her tumble into emotions and lack of restraint is so, so heartbreaking.

this is one of the productions of hamlet that makes a really convincing case for ‘madness’ in elsinor being synonymous to speaking one’s mind and being truthful about one’s heightened emotions and like. i Love that interpretation

lets be real i love 99% of hamlet interpretations

the 1% is freud. fuck that guy

I’m Digging the parallel of Ophelia’s emotional outburts of grief (in madness) to Laertes incensed outburst of grief . ohoho

Laertes gets rosemary and pansies, Claudius gets fennel and columbines, Gertrude gets the rue, Audience member gets the daisy and the thought of violets

unfortunately i once wrote a shite poem about gertrude and weather she know of the poison in the cup at the end and unfortunately that’s all i can think about for the last 40 mins of the play hfdhgjgghjhgj

im annoying so i read along with the play and the duets Claudius and Laertes make of the meter and the word formatting on the page comes across really different on stage, which is super interesting. 

not to be really fucking dramatic but i read in the info packet of this play that the pillars on the stage are actually tree trunks carved and painted to look like marble and considering how many times i had to hear the words ‘appearance vs reality’ in my english class, i think im allowed to use the smirk emoji about how the setting of the globe is Integral to Hamlet as a play

i am itching to write an entire 4000 word tirade about the use of the physical body in hamlet because between the actual acting on stage, polonius, ‘one auspicious and one dropping eye’ and all whole host of references made to physical body parts i am going feral 

PLUS this one incorporates sign language 

i actually hate the word incorporates but needs must  

The Ophelia’s death speech is of course wonderful, but i can’t stop thinking about how John Everett Millais made his model (who’s name escapes me in a terrible irony because i got this information from an exhibition about the female pre-raphalites) sit in a cold bath for hours on end whilst he sketched and it made her very ill because the fire went out and she was sat nude in a bath of cold water for hours.

Gravedigger only has the songs and the hamlet interaction, and he wears a high vis jacket. he’s also played by the ghost’s actor, which whilst understandable in such a small cast, amuses me greatly

Hamlet’s got his hair tied back and in a military style jacket, and marches around with Horatio who’s in a hoodie and a black duffle coat (absolutely a student) and the same tight plait. Ham’s definitely meant to be sane now, he speaks very brusquely and all but marches around the stage

Not To Make An Edelgard Reference But edelgard’s cause in 3H was also cemented by a timeskip and a military outfit and a brusque personality hehehe 

Hamlet gets into the ‘grave’ to chat to Yorick which, again, i will use in every relevant essay i will write and manipulate this scene to whatever end i desire and on god i thank this production for this 

a level me would have gone feral

current me is also going feral

Grave Scene: a terrible one for your family to walk in and ask what the fuck you’re watching

Polonius’ actor plays the priest. yes, capsule wardrobe of a cast, i know but i’m an english student it’s my duty to wring every irrational inch of analysis out of this thing

i won’t trail on about unsubstaniated interpretations of Polonius’ parenting skills and fate in Hamlet but on god i will find an essay about it

i always enjoy it when someone leaps in the grave .. the melodrama... the meaning... the liminal spaces...

the DRAMA of seperating feral laertes and the really calm and imposing hamlet is excellent and a bit hilarious and the camera is going nuts

i’m very aware that everyone is now traipsing about over the grave in the middle of the stage and THAT’S a fun dynamic you don’t get from film or text

ok I’ve just noticed the video has the ‘top chat replay’ going and the very first line i saw is ‘what if hamlet had tiktok’ and i am CRYING 

Ophelia’s actor also plays Osric and is a) absolutely hilarious and b) again, capsule wardrobe of a cast will not stop me from analysing everything and anything this play may or may not offer me. 

im not saying hamlet is a play about inheritance and the burden of it, but also... isn’t it :eye emoji:

if bloody fire emblem fates can do it so can i, step off

Fencing scene: oh thank god it’s nearly over

The hearts on their fencing get ups parallel Hamlet’s clown outfit with a heart on the sleeve Very Nicely

Gertrude isn’t wearing her headpiece anymore .. ohoho dispelling the trappings and suits of dishonesty, if you will

The duel is a) bloody terrifying because sword fighting and b) judged by Osric (Ophelia) and the poetry of having ham & lae’s duel waged over and judged by Ophelia is absolutely excellent

Claudius’s aside (or to laertes? camera didn’t follow) had no right to be as humorous as it was jdfsghfkd

Gertrude figured out it was poison in this one. Nice

I like the call and response effect of ‘Treachery! Seek it out! / It is here Hamlet’ they made with Hamlet running around they stage to find little propped up Laertes

The dramatic eye contact of Hamlet and Claudius as he forces him to drink the poison.... OH HECK YES 

the way they sink to the floor in a pair, with hamlet crawling over his body to make sure he dies... oh LORD 

the swing hamlet does with his arm to the audience to cast them as ‘the unsatisfied’ was EXCELLENT and i would like that in every production of hamlet please 

the tussle of horatio and hamlet over the cup..... iconic.... and i enjoy the parallel of that to hamlet with claudius as they’re stood in the same corner 

The harsh projection of Hamlet’s voice and the blunt manner of his words about Fortinbras’ inheritance of denmark against the soft way Horatio rocks Hamlet back and forth ... i want to CRY

Horatio got to have emotional range in this production .. wonderful

i always enjoy the way the play tails off with politics in a room of dead bodies.. the layers the absolute onions

how none of the drama within the castle has any meaning to anyone outside of it is Excellent 

and then the way the prison and enclosure of elsinor is finally broken with military force in parallel to the tumultuous interpersonal relationships within it... i vibe yet more

they actually ended with ‘go bid the soldiers shoot’ which i enjoy a lot!!!! and the music is wonderful

then they all start doing this dance which i think is meant to be about the themes of the play and to be perfectly honest it’s a bit crunchy for me but the music absolutely slaps!!!

final thoughts:

that sure was a hamlet production and i thought it had a lot of heart and did some new things very very well!!!

and i loved the emphasis they put on the costuming!!!! 

overall: a solid hamlet. very nice. i greatly enjoyed it!!!! 

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Limerence [M] ︳02

Pairing: Zuko x OC

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 4300+ (Chapters will be longer as we go along - trust me).

Notes: As noted before - I plan on re-writing chapters one and two in the future (or after I’m done writing the series), the content will be the same, just written ‘better’. Thanks for the likes and reposts my awesome buns <3

Masterlist ︳01 ︳ 03

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.

The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

Cheiloproclitic

(English/adj.) Being attracted to a person’s lips.

~ Fire Lord Zuko ~

            “Smile - it's the key to unlocking people’s hearts, Zuko.” Uncle Iroh said with a great smile on his face, his hands placed in front of him. I looked at him and scoffed, “What hearts do you think I'll be unlocking during my visit Uncle?”

            We stood at the edge of the pier. It was early in the morning, the sun starting to rise and cast a vibrant range of reds and yellows along the water. Everyone was set to depart for our journey to the Southern Water Tribe, well, expect me.

            I stood on the dock with Uncle Iroh as the guards and servants stood off to the side, waiting at the ramp for my departure. Uncle Iroh chuckled, shaking his head at my refusal to 'unlock people's hearts'. “It’s an old saying I heard long ago, but I have good feelings about this trip. I feel like you’ll return as a different man.” A tiny smile flickered across my lips as I crossed my arms across my chest, “That’s the point, a nice vacation. Spend some time with old friends.”

            I was genuinely excited about the trip but also apprehensive.

            The notion of leaving the kingdom for a bit was not unnerving to me; I was leaving the Nation in good hands. Instead, it has been a while since I could relax, and I wondered if I could even handle such a simple task anymore. Suddenly political meetings seemed more straightforward than kicking back and letting the sun soak in my skin…or cold in this case.

             “You left the Nation in good hands, and maybe when you come back I'll have a new holiday set in place, Oolong Tea Appreciation Day…” Uncle Iroh mused.

            I let out a sigh, “Something tells me you aren’t joking…”

            Uncle Iroh must have heard as he let out a hearty laugh, his hand falling upon my shoulder. My eyes widen, completely caught off guard. The sudden contact was foreign, and for split second, I found myself as stiff as a board. I never realized how isolating being Fire Lord was until moments like these, moments of affection. Uncle Iroh noticed, his playfulness disappearing, a look of sympathy erupting as he gave my shoulder a soft squeeze, “I'm proud of you Zuko. Now go and enjoy yourself…”

            Without thinking twice, I reached over and hugged him, something I haven’t done in a while. I could feel the smile Uncle Iroh held as he hugged me back instantly. Not a single word was spoken between us as the hug itself spoke plenty already.

            Slowly we parted, and with that I walked towards the ship, ready for my long voyage. Standing at the ramp, I turned around one last time, Uncle Iroh waving gleefully.

            “Fire Lord Zuko, permission to depart?” A guard spoke from behind me.

            I waved to Uncle Iroh, bidding him my final farewell, before I noticed a figure standing off in the distance, near the main gates. Long black hair, half buns, red robes that were too long…Mai. My shoulders tensed as I could feel her piercing glare from inside the ship. My waving hand dropped to my side once again, my lips pressing together tightly, forming a thin line on my face. The last time we spoke was our argument.

            “Permission granted,”

            The guard huffed, beginning to raise the ramp. Although the ramp raised speedily, it didn’t seem fast enough - feeling the lingering glare from Mai.

            “Fire Lord Zuko, may I offer you some tea?”

            I turned around to see a petite maid standing next to me. My forehead scrunched up; she seemed familiar as if I had just seen her… “You were the maid who offered me tea in my office after Countess Mai left, correct?”

            Her eyes widen, most likely amazed I remembered her. “Yes, Fire Lord Zuko.” She stuttered out. I couldn’t exactly be upset at her evident shock. There were many servants present at the kingdom; it was at times difficult to remember faces let alone names. But unlike my infamous father, I did treat my servants with some respect and insured they were given a safe place to rest for themselves and their families. I couldn’t stop the cold shiver that ran up my spine remembering how cruel Fire Lord Ozai and my lovely sister, Azula, were to them.

            “What’s your name?”

            “Lia, Fire Lord Zuko.”

            “Are you new?” I asked.

            “Yes, Fire Lord Zuko…that day I offered you tea was my first day…” She softly spoke. I was stunned; she’s pretty courageous to offer me tea on her first day. “I see…” I muttered, but the wheels in my head were turning. Lia was nice, offered and gave me some amazing tea, and she didn’t seem like such a traditional maid. She may be my ticket to relaxation…“How would you like to be my personal maid during my stay at the Southern Water Tribe?”

            Lia looked taken aback by request. It was a bold request, and a considerable jump given her current position. But she seemed like the type who wouldn’t follow my every damn move during my vacation, something the more senior servants would do. I could actually relax, let loose, not worry if someone is watching me from the sidelines. 

            “I would love too, Fire Lord Zuko. But I would need to get it approved by the head-”

            “When you grab my tea, tea of your choice, bring it to my study with any paperwork that I would need to fill out,” I spoke quickly. Lia nodded her head, looking rattled as she nervously patted her hands against her dress, “Yes Fire Lord Zuko, I will leave to get everything set.” I nodded, “Thank you, Lia.” I turned around – Lia standing there alone in shock, couldn’t blame her. She went from a simple tea maid to Fire Lord`s personal maid in seconds; all because she makes some great tea.

            I let out a huff as I began walking to my office, ready to start reviewing Earth Nation paperwork regarding the United Republic of Nations. My hand anxiously ran through my hair; I couldn’t possibly have that much work left to complete…Two guards opened the large metal doors to my study as I walked in, documents and papers already stacked up on the wooden desk at the center of the room. I groaned, annoyed. These piles never seem to fucking disappear. Maybe I could just ‘accidentally’ burn a pile or two…

            I plopped myself upon my chair, defeated. This is why I needed a vacation – time to myself. Time to just relax and not spend hours on end scribbling my damn signature. Another week and half of sailing Zuko. That’s it, then you can relax. I reached in my study drawer to grab ink and pens, but a canvas stopped my movements, preventing me from grabbing my tools.

            It was a small painting, primarily painted with different hues of blues and whites. I raised it and smiled softly; it was a family portrait of Katara, Sokka, Hakoda, and Aang. It was a gift Aang had brought to me during one of his visits, and I kept it in my office as a random souvenir. It was at last year’s Winter Solstice festival, but the more I let my eyes gaze around the painting, I couldn’t help but notice another figure standing beside Sokka…Ying Yue.

             I heard countless stories from Sokka and Aang about her.

            She was mixed ethnicity: Fire and Water Nation, and from what I grasped she was a bender. Probably a Firebender…only a Firebender would have golden eyes that shined as brightly as hers. But before I realized, I was staring at the painting longer than I had attended, wholly fixated on Ying Yue. She was beautiful; like Fire Nation royalty. Her long black hair cascaded well beyond her hips and she bore such an innocent smile that reached her eyes. The royal blues against her milky skin made her look like a delicate flower: a Hydrangea.

            I put the picture back in the drawer, ready to get to work. As curious as I was to know about this mysterious Ying Yue, I was smarter than to trust a painting when it came to her appearance. The painter could have easily made Ying Yue look like a goddess. But…what if she did look like that…

            ‘Smile - it's the key to unlocking people’s hearts, Zuko.’

             I shook my head and scoffed, “as if I'll be unlocking any hearts…”

            Day after day, I worked away on paperwork in this forsaken office. Days became nights after sailing so aimlessly, and soon, the days became nothing more but a blur. That was why when Lia woke me up and told me that we were due to arrive in another hour I was surprised.

            Everyone on the ship was vigorously preparing for anchoring. The guards and servants seemed eager to get off the boat, and I could empathize with them, it was beginning to get stuffy, and the thought of walking on land was something I was starting to miss. I'm beginning to understand Toph’s love for Earth.

            That led me to where I was now — standing tall and proud at the end of the ramp in my uniform. Guards and servants were dressed a tad bit more formal than usual, their heads up high as they carefully lined behind me, “Fire Lord Zuko, permission to drop ramp?” a guard shouted. I sucked in a deep breath, excited that the moment has finally come. On the other side of this door was my friends, and a break from my responsibilities.

            “Permission granted.”

            I could hear the masses from outside of the vessel, not surprised that my arrival had attracted a crowd. The last time I came here, I tried to capture the Avatar. I chuckled to myself and watched in a daze as the ramp lowered. A smile snuck its way upon my face as I began feeling the cold air entering into the ship, a strange feeling against my warm skin. The sunlight shined and illuminated the boat the further the ramp was dropped, and I could begin seeing crowds of people from either side of the ramp.

            With a final thud, the ramp dropped, and I was astonished at how different and modern everything has become since I last came. The landscape was unquestionably striking, the sun illuminating the endless fields of snow and ice and highlighting the magnificent structures that were built in place of the huts that once stood. But I quickly redirected my gaze to the small group of people eagerly awaiting in front of me.

            Team Avatar stood together, Hakoda and Aang standing at the front with large smiles as they watched me approach them. I beamed, my boots scrunching over the thin layer of snow as I eagerly walked forward. I could feel the heavy boots of my guards following suit, the feeling of snow melting on my skin feeling wonderful, I could get used to this. My gaze fell over everyone, but I caught myself slightly tripping over my feet when I spotted her.

            My breath hitched as I took in what I was seeing.

            She stood delicately beside Sokka as she wore a stunning red dress, a Fire Nation dress. The dress hugged her body like a glove - accentuating curves that could make any man or woman go mad with lust. Her black hair was tied up with well ornate Bu Yao, small pieces of hair loosely framing her face. Her skin glistened under the sunlight, reminding me of the pearls fishers find during their voyages. Despite the distance, I could still make out her soft, delicate features: golden eyes that could make a man stop dead in his tracks. That can’t be her…she’s gorgeous, beyond gorgeous.

            I quickly shifted my gaze elsewhere, awkward teenage Zuko starting to bubble out at the sight of a beautiful woman. You’re Fire Lord you dumbass, act like one. Entirely taken aback by her beauty, a beauty that was memorizing - tantalizing to the eye, I hadn’t noticed how close I was to the group. Aang’s facial hair had begun to grow in from the last time I saw him, but it had been some time since I last saw Hakoda. He had aged, a few wrinkles beginning to form around his eyes and lips, but he still stood tall, and it was clear he was in charge of everything.

            “Fire Lord Zuko, I hope the journey here was smooth?” Hakoda spoke, his hand outstretched before me, which I grabbed as we shook hands. “Hakoda- it was rather quick, faster than I realized,” He grinned, pleased to hear, “It’s great to have you here.” I moved over to Aang; his hands pressed together in front of his chest as he took a deep bow. I mimicked his movements and held my bow as long and as deep as his.

            “Someone fell in love…”

            The distinct sounds of hushed voices and some chuckles coming from behind Aang caught my attention, my ears perking up at the sounds. The laughs and whispers all too familiar, Toph and Sokka. I began to straighten out, letting my eyes wander to the left of me. Sokka and Toph were suppressing massive grins on their faces, and as if Toph had felt my gaze upon her she placed her hand over her heart, moving her hand up and down while pointing in front of her.

            I cocked a brow upwards, trying to understand what she was trying to hint at, looking at where she pointed. Why is she pointing at her? Her cheeks were flushed a bright red, seemingly flustered about something.

            No, it can’t be…

            I quickly faced Aang, “It's a pleasure to have you here Fire Lord Zuko.” Aang said, his voice sounding different from the frequent informal conversations we shared. I nodded, “Thank you for letting me stay,” I spoke as I gazed back at Hakoda. But from the corner of my eyes, I could still see Toph grinning madly, entertained about something. I moved to greet Katara, she smiled as she excitedly greeted me. 

            Is Toph trying to hint at what I think she is…?

            I moved onto Sokka as he gave me a quick bow before shaking my hand, “I’m happy to see you again Fire Lord Zuko.” He said with a smile. I smiled back but quickly raised a brow and eyed her. Sokka seemed to have gotten the hint because a devilish grin painted his face. He stood beside me, and before I knew it, I was standing directly in front of her, “Fire Lord Zuko, I would love to introduce to you my adopted sister, Ying Yue Jiang.”

            All of my assumptions were true; she was Ying Yue. As I looked at her up-close I realized that I was right, the painting indeed didn’t do justice regarding her appearance.

            The painter only captured what seemed to be a sliver of the beauty she held.

            Judging by the looks Toph gave me, and the way Sokka emphasized the word love, I think…I got it. She was totally checking me out, did she think I was attractive?

            Her golden eyes meet mine as she gave me a shy smile, “It's a pleasure to meet you Fire Lord Zuko.” Her voice was honeyed, so sweet; I found myself craving to hear it once more. But the faint blush that painted her cheeks didn’t disappear, instead intensified the longer I stood in front of her.

            A large coy smirk played along my lips, realizing how much fun I could have with a bit of teasing if I were right about her infatuation - which was not one-sided granted. Although a part of teenage Zuko awkwardness wanted to pop out again, another side wanted to have fun: to see how fun-to-tease she was as Sokka and Aang spoke about to me.

            Without thinking twice, I knew what I had to do.

            Before Ying Yue could process what was happening, I went down on one knee and gently grabbed her hand. Her skin was soft to the touch; not even the most exquisite silk could compare. Ever so slowly, I pecked her hand. I could feel her heartbeat beating erratically, and mouth slightly open ajar in shock as my fingers played along with her wrist. A proud grin erupting from me; she totally likes me.

            Slowly inching away, my lips still hovering over her hand I spoke, “The pleasure is all mine, Ying Yue Jiang.”

~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

            The moment the main doors closed Sokka and Zuko exchanged a huge hug, “Oh man, I can’t believe you’re actually here!” Sokka exclaimed. Zuko grinned, “Trust me, you owe me one. The amount of paperwork I had to do to get here…I deserve a vacation.” Aang had his arm wrapped around Katara, who laughed ecstatically, “Zuko, it’s been so long! Who is watching the Fire Nation in your place? How is your mom and little Kiyi?” Katara spewed, throwing question after question.

            I stood back as the gang surrounded Zuko, flooding him with inquiries while I tried to gain my composure. He kissed my hand! My hand was still tingling, and I could still feel the heat from his soft pink lips. Not once during their stories did they tell me he was a tease, I knew he was sarcastic but not so…so…

            Sokka wrapped an arm around Zuko, completely ignoring the flooding array of questions Katara sprung towards him. “Hey Zuko, I have a bone to pick with you. What was up with that kiss?” Sokka said with a grin. Zuko smirked devilishly, making it hard to believe those lips were the same lips that were on my hand just a few moments ago. Zuko smugly shrugged his shoulders causing Sokka’s arm to slip off, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t kiss anyone.” He spoke confidently.

            I could feel someone suddenly grip my hand and raise it, “Maybe this is a reminder!” Toph shouted, a grin plastered upon her face. I blushed, why me? “That’s my sister you kissed!” Sokka shouted protectively. Zuko laughed, and before I could even bud-into the conversation, I could see Zuko slowly making his way towards me, “Sorry Ying Yue, I just had to make sure I gave a good first impression.”

            I crossed my arms and pouted, “A warning would have been nice…” I grumbled - still embarrassed by the events. Zuko grinned cheekily, stretching out his hand in front of me, “Hi, my name is Zuko, Fire Lord of the Fire Nation. A pleasure to meet you.” I was surprised, but soon realized what he was doing. With a smile, I grabbed his hand, “Hi Zuko, my name is Ying Yue Jiang, the adopted daughter of Hakoda.”

            With a tight squeeze, Zuko slowly let go, but I could still spot the hint of mischievousness twinkling in his eyes, “You don’t want to kiss my hand?” This asshole. My eyes widen, and without thinking twice, I smacked his arm - hard. Zuko yelped, surprised by my outburst, “You guys told me she was sweet, not abusive!” He shouted. I blushed, flustered by everything. I didn’t think he was going to tease me, let alone tease me as much as he did. “Serves you right!” I huffed.

            Aang laughed in the background, Suki speaking up, “Hey Sokka, don’t kids tease each other when they have a crush on each other?” This time it was Zuko’s turn to look stunned, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly, did he have a crush on me?

            “What does that mean?” I asked, “Does Fire Lord Zuko have a crush on me?” I teased out, mimicking the same tone he had. Zuko looked taken about at my outburst, and Toph gasped, “The Princess is fighting back!” I crossed my arms and was about to speak before a booming voice interrupted.

            “Lunch is almost ready! Ying Yue, do you mind showing Fire Lord Zuko his room to change? It's near yours and Sokka’s.” Dad spoke with a soft smile. I quickly nodded my head, “O-oh, of course...” I muttered under my breath.

            Dad nodded, waving his hands around and pointing the way to the dining hall, “The rest of you can make your way to the dining hall. I asked Kima to show Fire Lord Zuko’s maid, Lia I believe, the way to his room, so you should bump into them. Your items should already be inside the bedroom.” Zuko nodded, “Thank you so much Hakoda.” Dad smiled and waved us off before beginning to walk off to the dining hall.

            Zuko looked at me, suddenly raising his arm; I lifted at a brow at him. He couldn’t seriously be thinking…“Well Princess, are you going to show me the way or not?” He said as he cocked his head at his arm. I huffed and linked my arm grudgingly with his. Although the blush on my cheeks gave away my unspoken delight to connect arms with him, I could feel his muscles as we linked arms, don’t you dare start drooling Yue. I could hear Toph and Suki giggling like school girls as we walked off, me leading the way. Can they be any more embarrassing?

            It was not till we were out of sight Zuko finally spoke up, “I seriously do apologize if I took you off guard with the kiss on your hand. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable…” Zuko mumbled. I looked up at his face as he looked straight ahead, and I couldn’t help but notice how shy he was now that we were alone. I shook my head, “It's fine… Although I think Sokka may hurt you in your sleep, so keep an eye open tonight.” I said with a giggle.

            Zuko looked over at me and laughed. I could spot the twinkle in his eyes as he laughed, a cute dimple appearing ever so slightly if you looked carefully on the right of his face when he smiled. His smile was just spectacular; so sincere and always seemed to reach his eyes. Zuko gave me a searching look, and that was when I realized I was staring for a bit too long. I quickly looked in front of me and hoped he did not notice the faint blush reappearing, gosh my cheeks are going to be permanently flushed if this keeps up!

            “I think I can deal with a Sokka if it means getting to know you,” Zuko said gently. My eyes widen, did I hear right? I raised my brow at him, and he grinned, “I’m curious about you, I’ve heard many stories about you whenever they came to visit me.”

            “I guess that makes two of us; I was super curious to meet you,” I said back.

            “Hopefully I met your expectations,” Zuko said playfully – oh, he’s sly alright. But before I could respond, I noticed we were already in the bedroom hallway, “Oh-! That door over there is yours! Across from you is Sokka’s and my room is the door right beside yours.” I said enthusiastically as I began dragging him behind me. Zuko gasped, surprised at my strength, as I quickly pulled him. His door was slightly ajar, and I swiftly pushed the grand white doors to his room, revealing some of his luggage already set in place.

            “The rooms on this side of the house have a beautiful view of the sea. In the night you can see the Southern lights reflecting on the water, and it’s simply breathtaking.” I gushed.

            Zuko looked at me and smiled, letting me ramble on. “Sometimes during the night I sneak off to the edge of that cliff over there-” I spoke as I pointed through the floor to ceiling windows, “from there you can see the whole town light up! And the way the stars twinkle above, gosh. It’s just…stunning.” Zuko chuckled as he looked at me, “You have to take me there some time…” He said softly. I looked at him and noticed our position. We looked like lovers, linking arms as we looked out the windows.

            I couldn’t help but look at those pink pouty lips of his; his tongue running along his bottom lip. It took me a minute to realize that we were both looking at each other’s mouths, his head slowly moving down towards mine. My heart throbbed loudly in my ears, my hands getting clammy, oh my gosh, he is going to kiss me! What do I do?! Instinctively I closed my eyes, and I could feel his hot breath on my cheeks...and a gust of wind hit the side of my cheek, what the-

            I opened my eyes surprised, only to see Zuko grinning, “Sorry Princess, you had something on your face, had to blow it away.”

            My face heated up, I’m an absolute idiot. Before I could utter out a word, the sound of footsteps caught my attention. Kima waltzing in with another unfamiliar maid at that exact moment. “Miss, I didn’t expect to see you here- Fire Lord Zuko.” She quickly froze and gave a low bow. The young lady beside her did the same, wearing contrasting colours of red and gold. Kima stood up and gave me a confused look as I stood awkwardly, my arm still linked with Zuko’s.

            As if he could tell, Zuko leaned over once again in my ear and chuckled, “Oh Princess, you're too cute when teased.”

Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

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