#son do not feel pressured to get me anything your friendship is the best gift :D

[space-spoon]

thoughts?? 👀

(definitely not birthday shopping)

oh no i can’t tell if the picture worked

OH MY GOD IT LOOKS SO CUTE!!! :D

[everybodyscupoftea]

to grandmother’s house we go

sigma chi jj x reader

you bring jj to your family’s christmas

ope. two days late again 

(warnings: a little bit of cursing, minor editing)

The first Christmas JJ came home with you, you felt like you should warn him. The two of you had been together for just over two years, and he was used to your immediate family, but your extended family was a different story.

“Okay,” you started when he crossed over the state line into your home state, “I feel like I should say that we aren’t going to be at my house much.”

“What?” he asked, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, um, my family normally goes to stay out of town with my Grandma. We do one half of the family on Christmas Eve and the other half on Christmas Day.”

JJ raised his eyebrows, “Your family knows I’m coming right? Like your extended family?”

“Yeah, definitely! My mom told them.”

“And they were okay with it?” he asked, sounding cautious.

“They’re eager to meet you,” you reassured him, “I think they’re just happy to see me finally dating someone.”

He snorted, “Yikes.”

“Yeah, well, my family lives to pressure my sister and I into marriage.”

“Wait,” he looked a little panicked, “they’re not expecting us to be engaged, right?”

“No, but they might bring it up. Just ignore it.”

“I-” he cut himself off, “okay, if you say so.”

You were just glad the conversation had gone as well as it did.

-

“Three hours?” JJ hissed at you when your dad took both of your duffle bags out of the car and stuck them in your parents’ trunk.

“It’s a long drive,” you offered innocently, “but at least you don’t have to drive.”

“Nope, just get to sit in the backseat.”

“J, at least you get a window seat, I’m sitting in the middle.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah and you’re going to fall asleep on me no more than 45 minutes in.”

“Slander,” you protested.

Your sister walked out in time to hear him and she laughed, “He’s right.”

“You can’t talk,” you argued, “you’re worse than me.”

“Twins,” she singsonged in a high pitched voice, and you rolled your eyes.

“Brought headphones for this ride thank god.”

“I can be louder than headphones,” she spoke confidently.

JJ let you climb in first before reaching across you to give your sister a fist bump, and you sighed, “I hate that you two know each other. Y’all are the worst together.”

He squeezed your thigh, “You love us.”

“Unfortunately,” you muttered.

-

You did fall asleep, but much to your satisfaction, so did JJ. Your sister woke you up first when you pulled into your grandma’s driveway, elbowing you straight in the ribs. Jolting, you woke up JJ immediately, and his head flew up from where it was resting on top of yours, looking around wildly.

“Christ,” you muttered, glaring at your sister, “that was rude as hell.”

“I got a cute picture of you two.”

You paused, “Okay, send it to me.”

JJ blinked adorably, trying to get a grasp on his surroundings, and mumbled, “Did we make it?”

“Yeah, bud,” you told him, grabbing his hand.

He smiled softly, maybe even a little thankfully, and took a deep breath, “Okay, let’s do this.” 

“If it makes you feel better,” your sister leaned around you to talk to him, “you aren’t meeting the problematic side of our family until tomorrow.” 

JJ paused for a second to process, then nodded, “That does actually, thank you.” 

Before you could say anything else, JJ climbed out of the car, seemingly more awake, to help your dad carry in the bags and presents for his side of the family. Your dad nodded at him, a satisfied little smile on his face, “Thanks, son.” 

“You’re welcome, sir.” 

Together they carried them through the porch to where your grandma was waiting with the door open. Your sister muttered, “Kiss up,” under her breath, and you snorted. 

“He’s trying to make a good impression on grandma and pawpaw, we both know that they’re super laid back and judge more based on conversational ability, but he doesn’t.” 

She widened her eyes at you, “You didn’t tell him?” 

“I didn’t tell him we were staying here until like five hours ago.” 

“Oh my god,” she muttered, “you’re actually a disaster.” 

-

Your grandma cooked dinner, traditional Christmas dinner with the turkey and ham, macaroni and cheese, dressing, sweet potato casserole, and green beans. JJ was staring at it in confusion, arms stiffly by his side even though you knew he’d normally have an arm around your shoulder.

Leaning into his side a little, you told him, “We eat steak on the actual holiday here, that’s why it’s traditional early. You don’t have to look so scared, bud. I promise they’re super chill.” 

“What does everyone want to drink?” your grandma asked before JJ could react.

“Water,” you answered, and JJ nodded, signalling the same. 

“Guests first,” your pawpaw urged, and JJ hesitantly grabbed one of the plates in the stack to start filling it up. He was careful to not spill anything, and his grip on the plate was like steel. You reached over to pat his hand in some sort of effort to soothe him, and he relaxed the slightest bit.

Until he finished and walked over to the table where there were five spots for 10 people. You almost ran into his back, “J, what’s wrong.” 

“Where do I sit,” he hissed, clearly anxious about it.

“Find a place with a glass of water and sit there. It’s not like assigned,” you answered, secretly hoping you could steer him toward the seat you normally sat in.

You did, and he sat down, not starting to eat right off the bat until he saw you dig in. It was slow, as if he was trying to wait for everyone to sit down, but you elbowed him until he picked up the pace.

“I’m trying to be polite,” he whispered.

“Trust me, you wanna hit the dessert before my dad.” 

JJ snorted, finally relaxing a bit. Your grandma, cousin and his girlfriend, and sister sat down next and immediately started asking JJ questions about his major, his frat, his favorite hobbies, and what he wanted to do in the future.

That he’d gone through before, with your immediate family, and he had the answers on deck. He spoke confidently, and you could tell your grandma was impressed. It helped him relax, and by the time everyone moved to the living room to watch a Christmas movie before bed, he sat on the couch next to you and was even comfortable enough to put an arm around your shoulder.

When he left to get ready for bed in the one bathroom, your pawpaw finally spoke up, “He’s a good kid.” 

“He’s the best,” you agreed.

“We got him a gift,” your aunt added, “so that he has something to open on Christmas Day.” 

You teared up, knowing it would mean the world to him. JJ didn’t talk about his childhood much, especially holidays. You knew he had no interest in going home to his dad, and from what you did know, there was never much of a Christmas celebration involving gifts.

“Thank you guys so much,” you finally managed.

-

Immediately JJ went straight back into discomfort mode as soon as your family walked into your aunt’s house. Everyone was already there, and the small house felt stuffed.

You leaned close, “Party vibes, huh? Should be pretty familiar.”

He snorted, “Not even close.”

“This is the problematic side,” your sister reminded him, “they’ll definitely get in your business and you’re going to hear a ton of small town gossip.”

“ The gossip is pretty interesting,” you admitted, “but the yearly questioning isn’t the best.”

“How often do you see your family?” JJ asked.

“Christmas. And sometimes a trip during the summer.”

He hummed, and followed you and your sister deeper into the house. Your sister took over, introducing him to whoever you ran into on the way. You could hear your mom in the kitchen catching up with her sister, and your dad took his normal spot on the couch with your uncle and cousins.

JJ shook hands with your favorite cousin, who immediately started asking him questions.

“How’d you two meet?”

Glancing over at you, JJ cleared his throat, “We were in the same orientation group and became friends through that.”

He hummed, looking at the two of you skeptically before turning back to JJ, “Major?”

“Marine biology.”

“You fish?”

JJ nodded eagerly, finally in his element, “Definitely.”

“Saltwater or fresh?”

“Either, but back home mostly salt.”

Your cousin looked impressed, “Where are you from?”

“Outer Banks of North Carolina.”

“Sometime when it warms back up, you’ll have to come visit again and we’ll go fishing.”

“Looking forward to it.”

JJ relaxed, stretching back into the couch a bit while the conversation picked back up around him. Your cousins’ kids were in another room napping, and you leaned over to him, “We’re getting the gossip early while the kids sleep. Board games after lunch.”

And as you explained, your grandmother dove into the rumors she’d heard about the new pastor in town. She leaned forward and you knew it was going to be a particularly interesting take.

“And then we saw the preacher’s wife smoking a cigarette outside the movie theatre.”

Your sister dramatically gasped, “How dare she?”

You snorted, but your grandmother, used to ignoring both of you, kept on talking until she finally came back around and landed on your sister.

“Your sister has a boyfriend, when will you be bringing one for us to meet?” she asked.

“Well, whenever I can get a boy to like me, I guess.”

She looked at JJ, “Are you planning on marrying my granddaughter.”

He froze, staring at your grandmother with wide eyes, “We haven’t really, uh, talked about marriage.”

“Mhmm, yet here you are, at family Christmas.”

“Okay, grandmother,” you cut in, “he’s family, and you know family doesn’t have to be by blood or marriage. It can be friendship.”

“You love her?” your grandmother ignored you to ask.

JJ reached over and took your hand, meeting your grandmother’s eyes, “Of course.”

She nodded and backed off, seemingly satisfied with his answer. Turning back to your sister, she added, “I expect a boy to be at Christmas with you soon, young lady.”

“What if it’s a girl?” your sister asked, clearly trying to egg her on.

“I’ll take either at this point.”

Clapping your hand over your mouth, you held in a loud laugh at your sister’s indignant face, and your dad didn’t even try. JJ squeezed your hand and you looked over to see his eyes squinted, biting his lip, to hold in his laughs. 

“Just wait until I never get married,” your sister crossed her arms with a huff.

-

“I’m going to murder you,” your uncle glared at you, “you better stop looking at my sheet.”

You scoffed, “Don’t put it in my eyesight then. Hold it up.”

“Just don’t cheat!” he exclaimed.

“Not cheating, just using my resources.”

And when he didn’t respond, you started crossing out the weapons on the sheet your uncle had just accidentally let you see. Your sister cleared her throat, “Well since he threatened her, Colonel Mustard is the killer and I’d like to make an accusation.”

“We started five minutes ago,” your cousin told her, “hush.”

She lunged forward and almost elbowed JJ’s empty gumbo bowl off the table. 

“Hey,” your dad yelled, “relax.”

“No. I simply will not relax until you let me accuse.”

“Dude, you haven’t even had a turn yet,” you rolled your eyes

“I’ve been looking at mom’s card,” she admitted.

Your mom gasped, scooting away from her, “Cheater!”

“How’s it feel to raise two cheaters,” your uncle taunted your mom.

“Only at board games,” you added, looking over at JJ.

He smiled at you, clearly amused at everything unfolding. The game went on for 30 minutes before JJ eventually won it. Your sister glared at him, “Should’ve left you at Grandma’s.”

Reaching over to ruffle her hair, he teased, “Sore loser.”

“I’m keeping your gift.”

“You won’t.”

“I will. Better show some respect.”

“Respect is earned.”

Her jaw dropped and your mom snorted, “Give up now.”

Your sister, always needing the last word, “Watch out, new kid, you’re the replaceable one here.”

JJ leaned forward, elbows on the table to look into her narrowed eyes, “Until I propose.”

Cheeks heating, you stared at him in shock, and he moved back, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Damn,” your dad coughed, “got her again.”

“Okay, any present marked JJ comes to me now,” she announced, “now that we’re family.”

Before anyone else could answer, one of the kids walked in holding a box, and your cousin stood, “Time for presents.”

JJ had a few, one from your parents, two from your grandmother, and a couple your cousins chipped in on. His eyes widened when he actually had a small pile, mostly gift cards, but he was still excited.

And at the end of the night, the five of you walked out to the car to drive back to your grandma’s house. Your dad looked at JJ over his shoulder, “You made it through. How’re you doing?”

“Pretty good.”

“Well, you got yourself a standing invitation.”

JJ’s smile was small but pleased as he stared at the window. You reached down to grab his hand and he squeezed in response. Right as you got to your grandma’s house, it hit midnight, and you leaned over to kiss his cheek, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

~

day 10 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: visiting relatives

[hawkinshellfire]

Right Where You Left Me

Chapter 1 - Willow

Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark Show me the places where the others gave you scars

Leaning back in his chair, Hopper stretches his arms up over his head and peers to the far side of the classroom. Two rows behind him, on the left, one of his best friends, Joyce Horowitz, was scribbling down a note furiously, her brow furrowed as she focused on what their science teacher was explaining up at the blackboard.

He extends his left arm and hurls a wad of paper in her direction, smirking when it hits her in the side of the head and forces her to look at him. She brushes the note to the side of her desk and shakes her head, choosing to ignore him rather than give in to the childish game he loved to play in this class.

As expected, Hopper balls up another wad of paper and tosses it at Joyce; this time it hits her on the cheek before falling onto her notebook. Reluctantly, she looks over at him and cocks her head while she mouths, “cut it out.”

Hopper holds his hand to his ear and mouths back, “what was that?” Adding fuel to the fire, he lobs a third piece of paper at her.

“I said cut it out!” she exclaims far louder than intended. The rest of the class turns to stare and Mr. Benson stops speaking, folds his arms over his chest and marches over to her.

“Something you wanted to share with the class?” he asks.

“No sir,” she whispers, gaze locked on the notebook in front of her.

“Very well. Mr. Hopper, please leave Ms. Horowitz alone. Save your antics for when you’re outside my classroom.”

“Yes sir,” Hopper replies.

They sit through the rest of the class and listen to the biology lesson, but as soon as the class is dismissed Joyce runs up to Hopper and scolds him with a swift smack on the forearm.

“Why do you have to cause problems? Mr. Benson is going to think I don’t take his class seriously.”

She waits as he gathers up his books and trails behind him as they begin to make their way down the hall.

“Oh c’mon Joycie, you know I’m just teasing you. Loosen up, have a little fun,” he smirks down at her.

“I have plenty of fun,” she protests.

They walk down the hall side by side and Hopper tells Joyce his after school practice is cancelled and that he can drive her home. He’d been driving her home ever since he received his license and his parents gifted him a car, but football season often meant he had to stay late and Joyce had to either walk home or take the bus.

Hopper waves to a few people as they continue down the hall, and fistbumps a tall dark-haired senior that brushes past them. She’s telling him about the latest book she’s devoured and while she knows he’s listening to every word, she can’t help but notice that he has the attention of several of their peers and he could just as easily brush her off to greet them.

She and Hopper had been friends since they were kids. Having met on one of the first days of school, they formed a quick bond that had yet to be severed. Joyce didn't get along very well with many other girls and had a difficult time making friends due to her introverted nature, but something about Hopper drew on her extroverted instincts and she found herself comfortable and open with him.

Sometimes, she envied the way everything came so naturally for Hopper. He got decent grades without studying, was a member of the Hawkins High football team and constantly had a slew of girls desperate for his attention. In addition to that, he seemed to know just about everyone. While Joyce could count the number of friends she had on a single hand, Hopper was always saying hello to strangers and other students she’d never seen before, and she was sometimes left wondering if he knew them or if he was just being polite.

There are times when his popularity feels overwhelming to her. Moments at parties where he runs off to greet someone new and she’s left feeling insecure about not knowing many others, or moments like this when despite knowing he cares about what she’s telling him, she can’t help but notice others noticing him.

She always wondered how their classmates perceived their friendship. She wasn’t exactly the most popular member of the junior class while Hopper practically ruled the school and she knew that seeing them together must be odd. Sometimes she wondered if Hopper felt obligated to remain her friend, but that fear went away the moment she caught his eye while she spoke and she can tell he cares about what she has to say.

They reach the cafeteria and part ways, Hopper, to join some of his teammates, Joyce to a few of her friends from her photography club.

“See you after school?” he smiles.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” she smirks back.

He sits down with a group of boys at a table along the far wall and is immediately pulled into a conversation with the two students next to him while he unwraps his lunch. Joyce makes her way across the room and settles at her usual table, where Josie and Eli are already seated and eating. Each of them looks up and greets her with a smile, and Joyce plops herself down and pulls out a book and her lunch. She begins reading while she eats her peanut butter sandwich, enjoying the silence amongst her group. One of the things she liked most about this group was that there was no pressure to socialize. Sometimes they would spend the lunch hour having heated debates, sometimes they talked about their classes or latest projects, and some days, like today, they all sat in silence, immersed in their own little universes.

In Joyce’s case, that universe was contained within a 256-page paperback. Turning the page, she glances across the room and catches Hopper’s eye. He smiles at her and nods before returning to the rowdy group of boys bustling around the table.

.

.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insanely short,” Hopper smirks as he approaches his car. Joyce is leaning against the passenger side door, leather-clad arms folded over her chest.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insanely tall?” she fires back.

“At least once a day,” he remarks with a shit-eating grin.

“Are you going to unlock the car or are we just going to stand out here and chit-chat?”

“You hate my company so much, huh? ” he grins as he teases her and rounds the car. Once he opens the driver's side door, he lunges across the cabin of the car and flips the lock open on her door. Joyce tosses her book bag onto the floor and climbs in, fastening her seatbelt at the same time as she pulls the door shut.

“You really should just fix the locks,” she complains.

“Do you have a spare few hundred dollars lying around?”

“You don’t know that I don’t.”

“Yes I do,” he remarks. He puts the keys in the ignition and they listen as the car roars to life. “You’re forgetting I know everything about you, Joycie.”

And he did. He knew just about everything there was to know about her.

“I hate that nickname,” she reminds him.

“That’s why I use it.”

“How would you like it if I started calling you Jimmy?” she teases, rolling down her window and allowing her armrest in the vacancy as he backs out of the parking lot.

“You’d sound like my mom. Please don’t.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know, it has kind of a nice ring to it.”

“Do you have any plans later?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Just some homework, why?”

“Are we still on for tonight?”

“Only if I can call you Jimmy,” she beams. Joyce loved teasing Hopper. He did this thing where he scrunched his eyebrows and his cheeks turned a bright pink shade that made doing it all the more fun, and so she often pushed until he got flustered. She wasn’t single-handedly to blame for the teasing that occurred in their friendship, Hopper enjoyed pushing her buttons right back and as a result, most of their conversations began as quick-witted jabs and teasing remarks.

“You’re not going to drop that anytime soon, are you?”

“Absolutely not. You’re cute when you’re bothered.”

“I’m not cute , Joyce.” His cheeks darken and he does his best to stay focused on the road signs ahead.

She knew he hated being called cute so she called him cute often.

“Right, sorry. You’re very manly.” Her response is mocking and said with a chuckle but it seems to relax him all the same and she shakes her head. “Speaking of manly things, why was practice cancelled today?”

“The coach is out. Something about his son being sick. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

“So what are your plans for the evening? You can come over to study if you want?”

“Can’t. I told Benny we could work out at his place before grabbing something to eat. Want me to bring you anything?”

“I’m alright. We’re supposed to be having pasta.”

Hopper grimaces but does his best not to outwardly show his reaction. He can’t remember the last time Joyce’s mom actually provided dinner for her daughter. The few times he’d stayed for supper, he and Joyce were the ones to prepare the meal from the limited supplies in the pantry. It wasn’t that her mother couldn’t cook, she was just hardly ever home. Joyce’s father, a character if Jim had ever seen one, tended to take out his anger in unconventional ways and as a result, Joyce’s mother often offered to work extra hours, leaving Joyce to fend for herself.

“You sure? I could grab a burger.”

“It’s fine Hop.” She places her palm on his wrist and gives it a gentle squeeze, something she’d done since they were kids when she was trying to reassure him that she really was alright.

They reach her house and Hopper pulls the car into the driveway before she unbuckles and reaches for her bag.

“Thanks for the ride, see you later?”

“See you later.”

He waits until she’s inside before backing out of the driveway and heading to Bennys.

.

.

“28… 29… 30.”

It’s a chant he does over and over again in his head as he pumps his arms up and down, hosting his body weight from the cool hard pavement lining Benny’s garage. The two boys were nearing the end of their workout but Hopper refused to slow down. He needed to be in his prime for the upcoming home game if he wanted to impress the coach and be made the quarterback in his senior year.

After wrapping up with the weights and rinsing off, Hopper and Benny head to the local diner, a favourite hangout among their friends and meet up with a few more teammates for burgers.

“Hey, Hopper, who are you taking to prom?” The question is directed at him from across the table by one of the junior linebackers named Mitchell and it catches him off guard.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he shrugs. He bites into his burger and continues to speak with his mouth full, “someone hot .”

The group erupts in a chorus of hollers and begins talking about one of the seniors who’d recently been caught with a student from a rival school beneath the school bleachers. Not one for dramatic gossip, Hopper finishes his burger and flags down the waitress to place an order to go. Once the takeout container is ready, he stands and slips into his letterman jacket.

“Where are you going so early, you got a hot date or something?” one of the boys calls at Hopper.

“Sorry guys, I’ve got plans,” he says. He grabs the food and slips his keys from his pocket, weaving through the crowded diner towards the exit. He can hear his teammates calling out after him, vague things about using protection on his “date” but he tunes them out. He balances the food on the roof of his car while he fumbles to unlock it, the dimly lit parking lot only covered by the faint neon lights lining the diner window after sunset. He knows he may be early, but there’s only so much team bonding he can handle and tonight, all he wants to do is unwind with his best friend.

As he approaches Joyce’s house he knows that he’s early. The porch light is still on, illuminating the driveway so he lingers near the cul de sac across the way and wishes he ordered himself a shake while he waited.

They had this routine, he and Joyce. Her parents insisted on Joyce having an early curfew, so he’d begun coming by after her father turned off the porch lights, indicating that he’d gone to bed. Hopper would usually wait a few minutes before pulling into the driveway and flashing the headlights. Joyce’s bedroom was the only one at the front of the house, therefore she was the only one who would see Hopper’s headlights.

Once she knew he was parked outside, she would pop the screen off her window and shimmy out onto the roof over the porch, where she climbed down the trellis at the side of the house and down to his car.

They’d been safely sneaking Joyce in and out for months, but each time they did it part of Hopper panicked that her dad would catch them and he’s certain the metallic taste that takes over his tongue will never go away as long as she was sneaking out of her father’s home. She always insisted that things would be fine and they wouldn’t be caught, but his pulse raced every single time they did this.

Tonight, he waits five minutes after the porch light is switched off before he pulls into the vacant driveway and flashes his headlights. While waiting for Joyce, he drums his fingers on the steering wheel and hums to himself. When she finally appears in the window, she’s wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of baggy pants, her hair swept into a messy ponytail, situated on the top of her head. He watches with bated breath as she maneuvers down the side of the house and reaches over to unlock her door before she gets to the car.

“Where to?” she asks.

“Let’s go to the lake.”

“How was dinner?” he asks as they back out of her driveway.

“She ended up staying at work late.”

“Joyce.”

“It’s fine Hop, I made some scrambled eggs for us.” He knows the “us” she’s referring to is her and her father and he cringes at her grouping them together in the same term.

“Reach behind you,” he instructs. “I got you something.”

She does as she’s told and reaches around the seat, where her hand finds a white doggy bag. She grabs it and places it in her lap while turning to give him a look.

“Before you yell at me, it’s your favourite.”

Joyce debates lecturing him on how she can handle things on her own and doesn’t need his help, but the smell wafting out of the bag demands her attention and she resigns and decides it’s best to say thank you and enjoy the food.

“With the extra sauce?” she asks slowly.

“Exactly how you like it,” he nods.

She reaches into the bag and pulls out a foil-wrapped burger that she immediately begins to unwrap and snack on. She didn’t need Hopper to look out for her, but who was she to say no to one of her favourite snacks on a late-night drive? She would yell at him for trying to be a hero, tomorrow.

.

.

When they arrive at the lake, Hopper pulls into his usual spot on the lawn just in front of where the shallow water meets the shore. He cuts the engine and flips the headlights on, allowing the fog to dance among the white shadows that lead a dim path to the lake.

It’s a clear evening, but the warm mist rising off the lake creates a haze that makes the area feel like it’s secluded from the rest of the town. Hopper reaches into the back seat and fishes out a blanket that he lays down in front of the car and motions for Joyce to join him. She does, sitting opposite him on the small plaid square with her legs crossed, the dewy droplets from the fog illuminating her face in a way he would describe as perfect in the headlights. He wasn’t blind to the fact that his best friend was beautiful, but he wasn’t vocal about it either.

“It’s so peaceful here.” It’s an observation she makes every time they come out to the lake, but her relaxed facial features and dropped shoulders are one of the reasons he so often selected the lake as their late night drive destination. It was rare to see Joyce so relaxed and he would do just about anything to allow her to be in a comfortable state of mind like this all the time.

“How was your workout with Benny?” she asks.

“Good. Not at good as a real practice would have been but I think it did the trick. How was homework?”

“Oh you know, an English essay can only be so thrilling.”

“You love writing essays,” he reminds her. “You used to help me with mine, remember.”

“I remember,” she smiles softly. She goes quiet for a moment, lost in a memory; a large oak desk and pre-teen Hopper anxiously chewing on the end of his pencil while she worked on outlining his history essay. They were in his family office after school. It was one of the first times she’d been invited over to his house, as they usually hung out outside. She remembers thinking their friendship wouldn’t last. Hopper had recently taken a huge interest in sports, hence her helping with his essay, and he was bound to outgrow their friendship in the coming years.

He never did, and now here they were years later, sprawled out on a picnic blanket beside Lovers Lake, still best friends.

Joyce watches as Hopper shifts himself closer to her and mirrors her stance by folding one leg beneath the other. The light from the vehicle reflects in his eyes and for a brief moment, she’s lost in a sea of blue and emerald. She knew he was attractive. Hell, there was a reason half the senior girls were after him. But in small moments like this, she found it was easy to forget that she told herself her childhood crush on Hopper was long gone. She would never tell him this, but in the quietest of moments, while he sat and listened to her speak, she found herself drawn to him in a magnetic sense that made her question her own feelings.

Tonight, she swallows that thought and forces herself to focus on the moon's reflection across the still water.

She couldn’t have feelings for her best friend. It would complicate and ruin everything.

“Hand,” he demands. His voice grounds Joyce and she forgets about her wild train of thoughts and focuses on the boy in front of her.

She extends her palm to him and angles her body so that her torso is perpendicular to his.

He hooks his thumb, much rougher from the years of helping his father cut wood, around hers and joins their hands. This was a “game” they’d been playing together for years and Joyce was no stranger to how it worked. It was another die-hard habit they’d picked up as kids. When one of them had had a long day, they would sit down in the grass on Hopper’s lawn and link their thumbs, fiddling them back and forth like a relaxed thumb restless match while they asked each other questions designed to distract them from the real world.

“Current favourite song?” she asks.

“Lame, you know the answer.”

He moves his thumb to the left of hers, then back to the right.

“It changes every five seconds!”

“Fine, it’s Back in the USA.”

“I knew it,” she boasts.

“Favourite sentence from your essay?” he asks.

“Ou,” she takes a moment to think it over.  “Alright, I’ve got it. ‘Though men may have a predetermined fate, we can not, by any means, move through life as if our actions are so predetermined that they do not matter’.”

“You wrote that?”

“I did,” she says proudly. “I liked the essay topic.”

“What would you want your last meal to be?”

“A nice steak,” he nods.

“Tell me your biggest fear,” he says softly, thumb narrowly avoiding hers as they continue the pointless thumb wrestling match between them.

“That’s a loaded question. I asked you what you would want your last meal to be, those two things aren’t even on the same playing field.”

“You could’ve asked something harder.”

“Being alone,” she admits quietly.

He locks eyes with her and instead of moving his thumb in the usual to and fro pattern, he hooks it around her hand and presses down.

“Joyce.”

A silent conversation passes. She’ll always have him. He’s told her thousands of times. She believes him, for the most part. Though, her deepest fear is that after school he’ll move on to a bigger and better life and she’ll be left on her own to fight against the scariest thing she knew, life.

“I know,” she smiles.

Hopper was the only person she let herself be vulnerable like this with. At school, she came off as tough and uncaring. She liked it that way. She liked that she wasn’t perceived as someone who needed anyone .

Hopper releases her hand and lays back on the blanket to look up at the sky. It’s cloud-filled and unclear, but something about the darkness calms him.

“The guys asked who I’m planning on taking to prom,” he tells her.

“And? What did you tell them?”

“That I wasn’t going.”

“Yeah. Right, ” she smirks and rolls over to face him. “Jim Hopper, one of the most popular kids in school isn’t going to prom. I think the world would end.”

“You’re so dramatic,” he groans, pulling himself up so that he’s seated with his back to the lake. He wraps an arm around his knees and drops his head in her direction. “Besides, I didn’t really tell them that, I told them I was taking you.”

A smirk breaks out across his face at her initial panic but she recovers quickly and begins to laugh. “Get out of here, you know I wouldn’t be caught dead at prom.”

“Not even with me?”

There’s a serious undertone in his voice that makes her wonder if he’s still joking around, but she quickly forces herself to dismiss the thought and smiles at him. “Not even with you, Jim Hopper.”

“What if I asked you in some ridiculous way? You’d have to agree to go with me.”

“I wouldn’t go to prom if you paid me,” she reassures him.

“You’re telling me that if I did something crazy, say,” he scampers to his feet and steps towards the parked car, “climbed up on the hood of the car…” He’s standing on the hood of his car now, arms outstretched while she watches with an amused expression.

“And yelled, ‘Joyce, will you go to prom with me?’ that you’d turn me down.”

“I’d turn you down before you even had a chance to hop up on the car. Now get down before you hurt yourself and your coach wants to kill me.”

She reaches up and takes his hand while he effortlessly jumps down and rejoins her on the blanket.

“You’re a heartbreaker, you know that Horowitz?”

“And you’re insane.”

“You should come to prom,” he says.

“Why? It’s not like I’ll know anyone there besides you and I’m sure you’ll have your hands full with your date.”

“It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I don’t think so Hop, maybe next year.”

“At least think about coming? For me? It’ll be so much more fun with you there.”

“I’ll think about it, but I’m not making any promises.”

Eventually, the cold begins to seep through Joyce’s jacket and Hopper offers to drive her home. She watches as he packs up the blanket, rolling it together and tossing it into the back seat of his car, and she thinks about what he said about prom.

She hadn’t any interest in going. It wasn’t like she had many friends and the few she did have wouldn’t be caught dead at a school dance. Even though she knows he was joking, she finds herself wondering what it would be like to go with Hopper. People would stare, probably whisper and she’s sure she would hate it. What she wouldn’t hate, she dares to let herself think, is being in his arms while they shared a dance. She’s quick to rain-in and dismiss the thought, but it still popped into her mind and a vision of them, wearing ridiculous outfits while they danced to a jazz band version of a trashy song, doesn’t displease her.

She shivers, the overwhelming sensation that normal people didn’t daydream about their best friend rippling through her tiny body.

“Cold?” he asks, noticing her quivering next to the passenger side door.

“Yeah,” she replies automatically. Cursing at herself for getting carried away with an unrealistic, absurd fantasy, she climbs into the car and folds her arms across her chest.

As Hopper begins to drive back to her place, she finds herself fascinated by the way the moonlight paints him in a faint shade of yellow. He catches her staring and smiles. “What?”

“Huh?” she replies, tearing her gaze away as quickly as possible.

“You’re staring.”

“Oh nothing,” she sighs, “just tired.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to drive around some more?”

“I never said that.”

They drive around for another hour, talking about everything and nothing. On a particular stretch of abandoned road that lies between the edge of the town and the woods, Hopper even lets Joyce drive his car. He’d taught her to drive years prior, but she hated to when other cars were on the road and so she reserved practice for late nights like this, with Hopper in the passenger seat and the moon being the only other light aside from the headlights.

When Joyce begins to yawn, Hopper drives her home. She lingers in the warm cabin of the car, laughing at a story he’s telling about Benny. Her hand falls to his arm as she laughs, and rests there until the cold evening air crashes through the open car door and she announces that she should get going.

She waves from the porch before climbing the trellis and back towards the window she escaped from hours prior.

Hopper smiles to himself, watching as she moves silently against the night sky and waits until she’s safe inside before he begins his own journey back home.

I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans

[the-badger-mole]

Traditional Part 2

Sokka took extreme pleasure the next morning waking Zuko before the sun had a chance to. He walked into the Fire Lord’s room and unceremoniously ripped the warm blankets away from his body, exposing the still sleeping man to a rush of frigid air. 

“What is your problem?” Zuko complained, reaching for the blankets. Sokka held them out of his reach and shook his head smugly.

“We have to get an early start if we want to catch up with the sea-moose,” he tutted. “The faster we make a kill, the faster you can come back and be gross with my sister.” Zuko rolled his eyes and dragged himself from the warm pile of cushions and blankets that served as his bed, grumbling and complaining the entire time.

“You didn’t have to be so obnoxious about getting me up,” he muttered at Sokka. His friend shrugged carelessly. 

“I told you to get to bed early,” Sokka said. “You’re the one who stayed up past bedtime. Hope it doesn’t affect your tracking skills.” Sokka left Zuko to get dressed. Ten minutes later, Zuko tumbled into the main room, still bleary-eyed, but dressed in the heavy furs Hakoda had provided him with. Katara and Kanna were up, too, working in the kitchen area to fix breakfast and put the final touches on the hunter’s supply kits.To Zuko’s surprise, Bato was there as well, deep in conversation with Hakoda and Sokka about the hunting weapons laid out before them.

Zuko knew that Bato had been welcomed to join this hunt- a life of friendship and years of facing battles together had forged a bond between him and Hakoda as strong as blood. Still, when Hakoda had announced the hunt the day before, he had only said that Zuko would go with him and Sokka. Zuko assumed that meant that Bato and Pakku- who was noticeably absent- would not be joining them after all. Bato noticed his questioning look and shrugged. 

“Changed my mind,” he explained. Zuko nodded, then went over to Katara. He bowed slightly to Kanna.

“Good morning, Miss Kanna.” Kanna looked up at Zuko, her eyes flashing with something that he couldn’t identify, but he instinctively knew wasn’t positive. The old woman’s eyes flickered towards her granddaughter before she put on a wide smile and pinched Zuko’s good cheek with slightly more pressure than necessary. 

“Call me Gran Gran,” she said. “After all we’re going to be family soon. Assuming you come back with a kill, that is.”

“Stop it, Gran Gran,” Katara chided. “He’ll come back with plenty.” She beamed up at Zuko happily, and leaned up for a quick kiss as she slipped a warm mug of tea into his hands.

“Good morning,” he whispered. 

“Morning.”

“There they go again, being gross!” Sokka complained loudly. Zuko’s face flushed hotly, realizing he’d just kissed Katara in front of basically her whole family. Hakoda rolled his eyes, but Zuko found a surprise ally in Bato.

“They’re not anywhere near as bad as you and Suki,” Bato laughed. 

“Well, we’d better finish packing!” Hakoda jumped in, clapping his hands together with a resounding noise. Bato grinned mischievously, clearly not of a mind to let the topic go. 

“You want to talk in appropriate?” Bato fixed his friend with a pointed look. “I was there when you were courting Kya. Kanna, you remember how affectionate those two were?” Kanna’s mouth slowly curled into a sly smile. She did remember and she opened her mouth to say just how much-

“He’s just jealous!” Katara said, sticking her tongue out at her brother.

“Still,” Hakoda started to say. “It is a bit inappropriate to-”

“Is Master Pakku not joining us?” Zuko asked quickly. He thought he saw gratitude cross the Chief’s face briefly. 

“Sure he did,” Sokka scoffed. He turned to Zuko. “Grand Pakku isn’t much of a hunter. Listen, all you have to do is bring home a bigger kill than he did, and you’re set.”

“No, unfortunately he is in bed with gout,” Katara said. “He wanted to, though.”

“I’ll thank you to not insult my husband while he’s not here to defend himself,” Kanna said frostily. Sokka held his hands up appeasingly. 

“Alright, Gran Gran.I’ll just write them down and say it to his face later.” Kanna picked up an errant bit of jerky and threw it at her grandson. Sokka snatched it up and took a defiant bite. 

“The cheek of this generation!” Kanna lamented. “Hakoda, get your boy out of here before I turn him over my knee!”

“You heard the lady,” Hakoda said. “Eat your breakfast and lets get going.” The four men had a quick, but filling breakfast of salted fatback, stewed seaweed and strong, black tea. Then they loaded up their packs and weapons, and headed out into the dark morning in a flurry of well wishes and kisses from Katara and Kanna. 

Zuko was glad to see that the cold, bracing wind had stolen the ability to speak even the native born Southern Tribesmen. They trekked to the edge of town in complete silence. For Zuko’s sake, their pace was slow. The young man hadn’t quite mastered walking in the long, wide snow shoes he had been gifted. Zuko wasn’t out of shape by any stretch, but between adjusting to his new gait and the heavy pack he was carrying, he was already panting by the time they’d cleared the town.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Sokka said sympathetically. “Once we’ve hit the tundra, we won’t need these anymore.” Zuko nodded in acknowledgement, hoping they were close to the tundra.

They walked for another hour and a half before they reached the area where the tightly packed and frozen ground made it possible for them to travel without the snow shoes. By then, Zuko had become reasonably adept at walking on them, but he was nonetheless glad to pull them off. 

The sun had risen by then, and the long walk had warmed the men enough for conversation. 

“Hunting is a rite of passage for young boys in our tribe,” Hakoda told Zuko. The further they got from the bustling village, the less dour the chief looked. He had even smiled at Zuko a few times.

“I’ve been hunting before,” Zuko said, a bit shyly. “But never for big game. It was...it was while Uncle and I were on the run.” Sokka shot him a glance from the corner of his eye. He’d long since forgiven Zuko for that part of his life, but it was a time that was rarely alluded to in Hakoda’s presence. But the older man just hummed thoughtfully and glanced back at Zuko.

“Did you catch anything?” he asked. Zuko was grateful for the thick scarf covering his face against the arctic chill. 

“Rarely,” he admitted. “A few jackalopes. A couple of iron jaw turtles. Once I managed to catch a mynah pigeon.” 

“Not bad for someone with no training.” Bato- having already lowered his hood- eyed Zuko with something akin to respect. “I’ve had to catch jackalopes for a meal myself. They aren’t easy.”

“Still, they’re no great-tusked sea-moose,” Sokka said with a superior smirk. Hakoda chuckled and shook his head at his son fondly (Zuko swallowed hard against a sudden sharp pain at the base of his throat).

“That’s true, they’re not,” Hakoda agreed. “And when you’ve brought one down, I’ll be very proud of you.”

“Hey!” Sokka protested. “I’ve brought one down! Remember? It was right after we all came home from the Fire Nation.”

“Oh, I remember that,” Hakoda chuckled. “You tripped and nearly startled the sea-moose away.”

“I was distracting it!” Sokka insisted. “I scared it with my leaping polar dog impression and gave the others an opening to kill it.” Hakoda and Bato threw their heads back and laughed at that.

“It was a distraction alright!” Hakoda said, wiping tears of mirth away from his eyes,

“I almost peed myself!” Bato chortled. He clapped Sokka hard on the back. “It was a miracle we managed to catch the thing at all!” Zuko started laughing a moment later, not as loud as Hakoda and Bato, but enough to break some of the tension that had been weighing on him since his ship left the Fire Nation. Finally, Sokka joined the laughter, too. So, this was male bonding?

“Alright, alright,” Sokka said sarcastically a few moments later. “So I didn’t actually get my spear in. But I was part of the team! That’s what matters.” Then Sokka turned to his father, his blue eyes wide with childish hope, and said, “Right, Dad?”

Hakoda’s face rippled with amusement, but he managed to keep a mostly straight face. He grasped his son’s shoulder and met his hopeful gaze. 

“Son, on Tui and La,” he said solemnly. “We will make sure you actually kill something this hunt.” Sokka squawked indignantly. Zuko tugged down his scarf and smirked at Sokka. 

“So, I’m a better hunter than you, huh?” 

“You are absolutely not,” Sokka shouted. “I was the one who did all the hunting while we were training Aang.”

“Really?” Zuko’s brow quirked, his smirk widened, and he went in for his first kill of the trip. “Katara told me that you guys mostly ate vegetarian unless you could buy meat.” The response was exactly what Zuko had hoped. Sokka’s face went bright red, and he sputtered furiously. 

“She said what?” he finally managed to yell. “I’ll have all of you know that we ate just fine! I caught plenty!”

“Sokka, calm down,” Hakoda motioned for his son to settle down. “Zuko was just teasing...I think?” He glanced over at Zuko with a questioning look. Zuko shrugged, feeling more playful than he had ever felt outside of Katara’s presence. 

“I’m just repeating what I heard,” he said. “I’ve never seen you hunt.” 

“That’s it!” Sokka wagged a mitten clad hand beneath Zuko’s nose. “It’s on, now! Who ever gets first spear is the best hunter.” 

“Boys, boys,” Bato stepped between the pair with an amused grin. “Settle down. We’re all friends here.” 

 “Sorry, Bato,” Sokka said.

“Yeah, sorry,” Zuko echoed. Bato nodded approvingly. 

“Now, now,” Bato grinned at the three men. “There’s nothing wrong with a little healthy competition among friends. And what these young men seem to be forgetting is that there is more to hunting than just the first spear.”

“Good,” he said. “Now, what you two seem to be forgetting is that there is more to hunting than just the first spear.”

“And here he goes...” Hakoda threw his hands up in defeat. 

“There’s also tracking, identifying our target, maintenance, and of course, the first spear,” Bato continued as if Hakoda hadn’t spoken. “If we’re going to do this, we’ll do it right. One point for each point. Whoever has the most points at the end of the hunt is officially the best hunter.” 

“Bato, this was supposed to be a friendly hunting trip,” Hakoda shook his head. Bato snorted and waved his hand. 

“Bato, don’t start,” Hakoda huffed. 

“You just wanted to scare the Fire Lord into promising to take care of your little girl,” he turned to Zuko. “You promise to take care of Katara and make her as happy as possible?”

“O-of course,” Zuko stammered, blinking in surprise. 

“Great!” Bato said. “And you understand that if you screw up, there’s not a team of bodyguards or a firebending move in the world that would stop us and Kanna from coming for you?”

“Erm...yes?” Zuko’s shoulders were as close to his ears as his heavy clothes would allow.

“Good answer!” Bato turned Hakoda and gestured for him to go next. “You have any more questions for the kid?” Hakoda rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“I’m good,” he said. 

“Fantastic!” Bato turned back to Zuko and Sokka. “May the best hunter win.” 

*.*.*.*.*

Zuko won the first challenge. Within a few hours of the bet, he spotted drag marks in the hard packed snow heading towards a small cove in the distance. Something heavy had pulled itself over the ground. The tracks seemed to be a few days old based on the fresh dusting of snow in the grooves. Still, it proved that the men were on the right track. Hakoda grasped Zuko’s shoulder and smiled proudly at him. 

“Nice work, son,” he said. Despite losing, Sokka also nudged Zuko encouragingly. Still, he could resist getting in one jab.

“I guess it was all that practice tracking us for a year,” he said, making a face at Zuko. 

“Or I just have better focus than you,” Zuko shot back. “You’re like a gopher terrier. You get distracted every time you see a squirrel.” 

“Oi, now you wait just at-”

“Look, a squirrel!” Zuko pointed off in the distance, and burst into real laughter when Sokka turned to see more empty tundra. 

“Listen, you-”

“He got you, son,” Hakoda laughed. “You have to accept it.” 

“Your dad was the same way at your age,” Bato said. “Could hardly get him to focus on anything.”

“And yet I still managed to beat you at bones every time!” Hakoda said. 

“What’s bones?” Zuko asked. 

“It’s sort of like Pai Sho, I guess,” Sokka explained. “Except when your opponent corners your piece, you get three chances to find a way out of the trap. Also, the board is triangle shaped, instead of square. And you only get ten pieces. Actually, it’s not really like Pai Sho at all.”

“We’ll teach you to play when we get home,” Hakoda promised. Bato grunted in agreement. He brought his hand up to shield his eyes as he scanned the horizon. 

“The sun’ll be going down in a bit,” he said. “We should set up camp here, I think.” The others agreed, and they set up camp in a small gap in the base of the sea cliffs. It was just wide enough for their tent and a good sized fire, which Zuko graciously ignited. Then they got ready for the evening. Bato made a stew with the rations Katara and Kanna had packed and Hakoda set to work laying out the furs and blankets that would make the tent livable, while Zuko and Sokka inspected their gear. 

Hey, Prince Pouty,” Sokka jabbed his chin towards Zuko. “Make yourself useful and pass me the sharpener.” Zuko rolled his eyes and handed Sokka the whetstone he’d asked for.

“I’ve been Fire Lord for eight years now,” he reminded Sokka. “Can you at least call me Zuko?”

“I knew you when you were forgetting the punch lines to stupid tea puns,” Sokka snorted. “Keep the whining to a minimum, okay?” They sat in silence for a while. Sokka snuck what Zuko could only imagine were supposed to be furtive glances at him. 

“Would you either tell me what’s wrong with you, or commission a portrait?” Zuko said at last. 

“So, this is really happening?” Sokka said, somewhat quietly. “You’re going to marry my little sister?”  Zuko felt the tip of his ear heat up. 

“If she’ll have me,” he mumbled. He smiled to himself, remembering how Katara had literally leapt into his arms when he’d finally asked her to marry him. The smile was quickly chased away by a frown, and he looked up at Sokka. “Does that bother you?” 

“Not really,” Sokka said slowly. “I mean...not for the reasons you might be thinking. I knew you two would probably end up here eventually. Even before you started dating. SInce Ember Island, before the war ended, I think.” Zuko blinked in surprise.

“That long?” he asked, incredulously. Ember Island was almost a decade ago. Sure Zuko had had a bit of a crush on Katara, but marrying her was the furthest thing from his mind then. 

“Yeah.” Sokka sighed and lay his weapon down. “I think Toph and I were the only ones who noticed, but you two just seemed to always gravitate towards each other. Honestly, I’m surprised it took you two so long.”

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” Zuko asked, uncomprehendingly. Sokka sighed again and ran his hand over his head.

“It’s not you,” he said. “Really, it’s not. I know you’ll do your best by Katara. I’m just...worried about everyone else.” 

“Everyone else?”

“Yeah, you know. Your people. Your advisors. All the FIre Nation folks who just stopped being fed 100 years of xenophobic propaganda. Are they ready to have a Water Tribe woman- a waterbender at that- as one of their rulers?” 

Zuko wished he could alay Sokka’s fears or write them off, but the truth was, he and Katara had discussed the potential difficulties of their marriage at length. Zuko almost didn’t propose because he thought it was too selfish to ask Katara to stay under those circumstances. But he and Katara had kept coming back to the same conclusion. They’d rather face those inevitable trials together than to settle into easier lives apart. Zuko said as much to Sokka. 

“I love Katara,” he said. “I love her enough to let her go if she decides- at any point- that this is all too much for her. I...We know it won’t be easy, but after everything we’ve been through together it just seems crazy not to try.” 

“Calm down, Sparky,” Sokka laughed weakly. “You two aren’t Oma and Shu.” Zuko snorted. 

“I hope not,” he said. “Things didn’t end great for them.” Sokka eyed Zuko appraisingly for a moment. 

“Alright,” he said. “I know Katara, and she wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t really love you. And she’ll go through with this, no matter who is stupid enough to try to tell her she can’t. But...you have to understand. She’s my sister. For a long time, she was all I had. I’m  always going to be a little worried.” Zuko turned his gaze out onto the water and watched the waves lap at the shore line in the distance. Spirits, he missed Katara.

“If it helps at all,” he said slowly. “Uncle doesn’t think it’ll be as bad as we’re preparing for.”

“Your Uncle is as blindly optimistic as Aang,” Sokka scoffed. “Of course he’d say that.”

“Uncle is an optimist,” Zuko agreed with a chuckle. “But that man is almost never wrong. The Fire Nation is gaining some major points with the other world leaders because I’m marrying a foreigner instead of consolidating more power within the FIre Nation. The trading rights you and your dad are giving me is going to help with our economy. Not to mention that outside of the noble families, most of the Fire Nation loves Katara. More than me, I think.” 

“No kidding?” Sokka’s mouth picked up at one corner in a proud smirk. “Well, I shouldn’t be surprised. Katara has a knack for winning people over.”

“She sure does.” Zuko agreed, feeling as proud. “She helped so many people. It wasn’t even her job as Ambassador. She just saw needs and she met them. All the schools and hospitals I was able to open? That never would have happened without Katara.” Sokka let out a low whistle. Katara had told him about her accomplishments, but she had way undersold herself. She had made it sound like she was inconsequential to the process- maybe picking out where schools would be built or having meet and greets with the doctors who would run the hospitals, but to hear Zuko talk, it was as if Katara had been acting as Fire Lady for years. Which, Sokka reflected, was probably not far from the truth. 

“That’s our Katara,’ he chuckled. “She never turns her back on people who need her.”

“Lucky for us all,” Zuko said. 

Part 1, Part 2,   Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[mustlovemustypages]

Yuletide 2020 Letter

Dear potential writer,

I truly hope all is well with you and yours. No matter what state you find yourself in, my wish is that Yuletide boosts your spirits and gives you the extra jolt we all could use to usher in the new year. 

Thank you for taking the time to read my letter and thank you in advance if you decide to write anything for me!

Below are my desired fandoms and pairings along with story ideas that I would love to see written. Please don’t feel stifled by my prompts; I’ve also listed my general likes and dislikes at the very bottom of this letter if you decide to go a different route.

Little Women (2019):

Characters: Amy March and Theodore “Laurie” Laurence”

The main reason I adore this adaptation is because it made me see why Amy and Laurie ended up together. They had very similar worldviews and fit so well what the other needed. Both deserved to be with someone that valued them for who they are. With Laurie, Amy was not just financially secure but with someone who encouraged her to express herself creatively, politically, or however she chose. With Amy, while she grounded Laurie in reality and challenged him to be the best version of himself, he didn't have to fundamentally change to make her happy.

Story ideas:

These quotes really show how Amy's perspective on life was different than her sister's: "You are your family's hope." (Aunt March) "I’ve always known I would marry rich." (Amy March) That's a lot of pressure on someone so young. We heard some of Laurie's thoughts, mostly that he didn't think Amy should feel ashamed for wanting that. How would some of that pressure continue even after she got married, and what would Laurie say to make her realize they were in life together as a team and she didn’t have to suffer the weight of the world alone?

The conversation between Amy and Laurie in the painting studio showed just how level-headed and intelligent she was. Laurie, while not wholly agreeing, was respectful and didn't discount her thoughts. It would be interesting to see the impact on their story if Vaughn hadn't arrived, and this had played out more. Would the proposal have happened earlier and/or how would later scenes be altered as a result of further conversation?

What did the other characters think of Amy and Laurie's relationship, and how did it change after seeing them interact more as a couple? It would be interesting to read about Meg, Marmee, John, or some of the other characters realizing they were genuinely a good match for each other.

Post-canon, I'd love to get a glimpse of what kinds of conversations they had. Did Amy encourage Laurie to pursue a career and find what he was passionate about (music perhaps as Laurie mentioned writing an opera)? And similarly, did Laurie encourage Amy to pursue her art? Did they continue to have in-depth conversations about societal pressures and expectations of gender in certain economic classes?

Tenet:

Characters: The Protagonist, Kat, and Neil

Tenet is the first movie I've seen in theaters since Star Wars IX. There have been some mixed reviews, but my love for Christopher Nolan sci-fi films combined with the experience of stepping foot in a theater again made it a wonderful experience for me. Sure, the plot could be confusing at times, but it was fun trying to fit certain puzzle pieces together and oh so thrilling when things just clicked into place in the most satisfying ways.

I adored the dynamic between Neil and the Protagonist. The easy friendship, the banter, the suits... everything. I also loved the relationship between the Protagonist and Kat. It started off as each using the other but transformed into one of genuine care on both sides. Ever the romantic, I definitely saw something more than just friendship between the two and was slightly disappointed the movie didn't explore that aspect more.  

For pairings, I’m interested in friendships between all of the characters. I’d be interested in seeing a romantic relationship between Kat and the Protagonist if you’re up for that, but not between Neil and Kat, nor Neil and the Protagonist. If you really want to give a romantic partner to Neil, I'd be fine with Laura (or an original female character if she’s not the focus of the story), but please, no slash. While I’d be ecstatic to see all three characters together, if you can only find a way to fit in two, that’s wonderful as well!

Story ideas:

Even though Andrei Sator is gone, there are still other players in the game, some like Priya, who want to eliminate Kat or even abduct her with the delusional idea she can continue her husband's work. The Protagonist (and Neil, if you so choose) ensures no harm comes to her, and he realizes that keeping her at a distance may not have been the best idea.

I personally don't buy into the fan theory that Neil is Kat's son Max; however, I do find the idea intriguing and would be up for reading about how that worked. The Protagonist breaks his rule and sees Kat, helping to raise her son Max/Neil and eventually teaching him about inversion.

The Protagonist doesn't have to wait quite as long as he'd thought to see Neil again. It can be the Neil who had already met him and knows about Tenet or the Neil who knows nothing about inversion.

What conversations did Neil and Kat have while the Protagonist was asleep after almost freezing to death? Maybe Neil explained the finer workings of Tenet and inversion more in-depth. Perhaps they discussed the Protagonist. 

Clueless:

Characters: Cher Horowitz and Josh Lucas

This movie set the bar high for teen romantic comedies. How can anyone ever beat 90s Alicia Silverstone and Paul Rudd? Plus, the relationship between their two characters is fantastic. Josh and Cher just bring out the best in each other. Cher shows Josh that he doesn't need to be so serious all of the time and that people are more than their outer appearances. Josh makes Cher want to be a better person, and he believes that she's not just a pretty face. Their banter and playful moments always make me smile.

Story ideas:

Knowing Josh and Cher end up together, this brings a heightened awareness to rewatches. They have so many casual touches and exchanged glances (when did Paul Rudd's eyes get so blue?) that it's hard to miss their natural chemistry. It may take quite some time for Cher's dad to notice anything has changed because they don't act all that different from before. Is there something that makes him finally take notice? How does he react?

Sort of related to the last prompt, there's a moment where Josh decides to go to the dance to keep an eye on Cher and Christian, and you can tell by Mel Horowitz’s smirk he realizes Josh has a crush on Cher. Does he do anything to push it along or play matchmaker just like his daughter?

I've always been curious about whether or not Josh believes Cher's story about being assaulted in the car by Elton and then held at gunpoint. We skip over Josh pulling up to the phone booth and go straight to Cher already being in the car. How did Josh react when she reiterated the story, and does he instantly believe her, or does it take some convincing? I'd like to see if he comforts her and if they both go together to tell Cher's dad what happened.

Cher is obviously very intelligent socially, if not always so much academically. When it comes time to apply for college, what does she major in? And how is Josh a positive influence in Cher's life, encouraging her to be ambitious and not letting negative comments from guidance counselors or teachers dissuade her?

Things I don’t like:

Alternate Universes – For the specific fandoms that I picked, I really like the universes as they are. I’m definitely okay with deviations from canon, but please don’t make Little Women into a supernatural werewolf story or have Tenet take place in a mundane coffee shop setting. (I don’t mind Soulmate AUs or something similar because those can be incorporated into canon with little change to worldbuilding).

Non-Con/Rape/BDSM/Sexual Violence/Graphic Sex – I like my characters to be happy and everything within ships to be 100% consensual, no question about it (mentions of non-con if it occurred in canon is fine). I also prefer plot over porn, especially with one-shots.

OT3s – Two people per romantic relationship, please. Any more than that makes me uncomfortable.

Character Bashing - Unless a character is a bad guy in canon, I don’t want to read hundreds of words about how awful they are, especially if they are one of the characters that I requested. Don’t take it out on the characters. If you hate my pairings, just write gen.

Things I love:

Hurt/Comfort – There is nothing I love more than one character comforting another. The hurt can be physical, psychological, or both.  

Happy Endings – I’m all for the realistic endings… but if they could be plausible AND at least happy-ish, that would be amazing.

Expanded Scenes/Contorting Canon – Feel free to expand scenes and change up the canon to your heart’s content as long as it makes logical sense.

Humor/Banter/Snark – I thrive on this stuff.

Bonding/Building Relationships – Whether it be a friendship or a romantic relationship, I adore reading about two people growing closer together. When characters know each other so well that they can have conversations with just their eyes or anticipate the person’s next move (especially if it’s to the surprise/confusion of everyone around them), my shipper heart is thrilled.

Dark to Light – Seeing a character come out of a bad mindset or situation and get better is so satisfying.

Happy writing and I hope you get the Yuletide gift of your dreams!

- Maddy @mustlovemustypages (on Tumblr, Ao3, and FF.net)

[breathoftheweath]

Under Pressure

Rating: G

Pairing: Gen/none

Word count: 1274

Themes: Rivalries, friendship, emotional breakdowns

Notes: I love Revali’s and Link’s dynamic, and I wanted to write them becoming friends. Also these two seem to be narrative foils for each other; Revali just wants some recognition whereas Link could use a little less recognition

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Revali couldn’t help but laugh. The princess had managed to escape her appointed knight once again, how pathetic. If he couldn’t even keep track of one teenage girl how was he supposed to defeat the Calamity?

“Well well, it seems pulling a sword out of a forest doesn’t automatically make you good at your job,” he jeered. “Maybe you should practice looking after a dog first before taking on the immense responsibility of babysitting Her Royal Highness.”

Link shot him a glare, but continued his search for the princess. Revali was intrigued, this was the most emotion the knight had ever showed around him. He wondered how much more he could get him to react.

“It was a real honor to be granted the title of Champion, but now I guess they’re just giving it to anyone who can hold a weapon.” Link continued walking, his back rigid and attention straight ahead. Hmm, seems like he would have to try harder to get a reaction. He dug down deep, and settled on something that was in the back of everyone’s mind lately.

“At this rate, the Calamity will have taken over Hyrule before we find the princess.”

Link stopped. He stared at his feet, shoulders hunched and fists clenched. The voice that rasped out was barely audible.

“Why are you so mean to me?”

Revali blinked. He had never heard Link speak before. His voice was surprisingly soft and gentle, a little higher pitched than he expected. The shock of hearing his voice only threw him for a moment before righteous indignation swelled inside him.

“Why am I so mean? What are you, some petulant child? I’m sorry for not groveling at your feet because you managed to pull some old sword out of a stone! Some of us had to actually work hard for our positions!”

“You think I didn’t work hard for my position?!” he snapped, much louder this time. He turned to face Revali, his blue eyes burning with an intense fire. He had to admit, it was a bit frightening.

“Ever since I was 5 years old I’ve been training day and night. I would skip lunches to continue my target practice. I would run at least 10 miles a day to build endurance. There were several times that I passed out with my sword in hand, because I wouldn’t let myself rest. I didn’t have time for a formal education, much less friends.” He was breathing hard, but the words kept spilling out, faster and louder.

“I had no choice. Being the son of the captain of the guard I had to become the best swordsman in all of Hyrule. I was expected to surpass my father in skill or else I’d be an embarrassment and a disgrace to my family legacy. And do you know how hard it is to even become half as good as that man, much less surpass him??” His voice cracked. “He lead entire armies and I can’t even keep track of one princess!!!”

He punched a nearby tree out of frustration, the leaves quivering from the sudden force. He kept his balled up fist against the rough bark, and rested his forehead next to it. For a moment he was silent and still, his dark blonde hair shielding the expression on his face. Then his shoulders started to shake. His voice lowered back to barely above a whisper.

“Princess Zelda is the first person my age that I’ve interacted extensively with in years, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I’m constantly told that this is my destiny, to protect Zelda and seal the darkness, but I can’t help but feel like I’m failing in every aspect. There’s so much pressure to do everything perfectly, and I’m constantly failing. No matter what I do, it’s not enough. I don’t know why the Sword chose me, I’m nowhere near hero material. I’m just a scared teenager who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Link finally turned towards Revali, and he was shocked to see tears streaming down his face. The knight was usually so stoic and emotionless, with only the occasional glare. Revali had meant to rile him up a bit, not push him to the point of a breakdown.

“I never asked for any of this,” Link managed to choke out through tears.

Before Revali knew what was happening, Link was fumbling with the straps on his chest, undoing the buckles and lifting the Master Sword off his back. He pushed it into Revali’s chest, much to his surprise.

“Here, take it. You’re obviously more deserving of this than I am.”

Then he walked away. Revali stood dumbfounded, Master Sword in his hands. He looked down at the sword, then at the knight’s retreating figure. Not quite sure of what to do in this situation, he ran after Link.

“Hey now just a moment, wait up!” Finally catching up, he placed a wing on Link’s shoulders. He stopped, but he didn’t face him, staring instead at the grass at his feet. Revali was not the best at comforting people, but he took a deep breath and tried his best.

“I’m sorry. I was not aware of the pressure you were under, or of the work you had put in to honing your skill. I guess I had assumed you were just naturally gifted. I truly apologize for those assumptions, and for the – uncouth behavior I’ve exhibited towards you lately.” He paused for a moment, thinking of how to best explain his feelings.

“I guess I was just jealous of the attention your achievements have gotten you. Despite what you may think, most people think you’re doing a stupendous job, they’re all in awe of your abilities. Growing up, I was just like everyone else, no family or titles to set me apart from others. I wanted to challenge everyone’s preconceived notions of me, so I trained hard every day to get even a little recognition. I don’t like to admit it, but I was envious of how easily people recognized your talent. I just wanted the same level of acknowledgment.”

Link continued to stare at his feet, but his stony expression seemed to soften a bit.

“Also, you should really show your emotions more often. It’s not good to bottle them up like this. It may be your destiny to seal the darkness, but you don’t have to do it alone. That’s what us Champions are for!” He thumped Link’s back, and he stumbled a bit, completely losing his composure. For the first time ever, Revali saw him smile.

“Oh by the way, Princess Zelda isn’t the only person your age that you’ve interacted with extensively. I’ll have you know that I’m also only 17. And don’t look so surprised, I’m no old man!”

Revali reached out to shake Link’s hand. “So what do you say, wanna be friends?”

Link looked apprehensively at his outstretched hand, then at his face, and smiled. He grabbed it, and with a sincere nod, he firmly shook it.

“Now let’s work together to find Princess Zelda. You can scout on the ground while I scout from above, and we’ll send a flare when either of us find her. Oh, and you’ll be needing this” he said as he tossed the Master Sword back to Link, who fumbled to catch it.

Revali crouched, ready for take off. But just before he initiated his gale, he shouted to Link over his shoulder.

“And one more thing: please open up to the princess like you did with me today. I’m sure if she realizes her knight is not just some stoic robot she’ll stop trying to run away as often. Good luck!”

And with that he was off.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

[realmadridfamily]

“The four boys are so different that I don't miss the girl”

EIGHT weeks after the birth of little Máximo Adriano, the youngest of her four children with footballer Sergio Ramos, Pilar Rubio is more radiant than ever in a spectacular photo shoot in Portugal for ¡HOLA! "I wanted to get back to activity" - says the presenter. Despite the energy and professionalism, which she always shows, Pilar quickly recognizes the lack of sleep in the last few weeks, in which she combines childcare with the attention she gives to the rest of the family - which she doesn't neglect even from a distance. There is no doubt that Pilar is a supermom, which he confirms when he tells us about his physical recovery and motherhood in the midst of a pandemic. Pilar, how are you feeling? Very good, really. I can't ask for more, although I don't sleep much and I'm more tired than usual. There are nights when I think: <Mother of God, four children! Why hadn't I thought about it before?> (laugh). There are days when things get a little overwhelming for me because lack of sleep makes you see things differently. But I'm so happy that it fills me up and gives me energy. It's the first time that you separate from Máximo Adriano? A day and a half passed. It's difficult for me to separate myself from my children, but I have constant contact with them thanks to video calls. How is the little one? He's super good, he never cries. The only thing is that, like his brothers, he eats regularly. It takes a long time. Now he asks for a couple of takes at night, but the first weeks he slept an hour or nothing. It sounds harsh, really. I learned to be more patient and accepting situation. No need to complain. It was a natural childbirth? Yes, all four childbirths were natural. Whose idea was it to call the little boy Máximo Adriano? Sergio liked the name Adriano more and I liked the name Máximo more. Since both names are cute, we decided to put them together. This is a deep story (laughs). How did the older brothers accept Maximo Adriano? Alejandro, who was the youngest until Máximo Adriano's birth, has become a little more rebellious. Try to get attention. But this is normal. Sergio Junior and Marco don't feel the competition because they are older. They all love him very much, they kiss him, but then all three play with each other. Is there an intention to baptize him? This is not in our plans for now. We also didn't baptize others. It will turn out later. With this fourth child, will you and Sergio Ramos close the limit? No more children! We've definitely closed the limit (laughs). I think we did our best for the birth rate (laughs). You wanted a girl? The four boys are so different that I don't miss the girl. I have a great time with my sons. Do you have nannies? My mother is now at home with children. After four pregnancies, you look spectacular. It's a matter of good habits and keeping them, whether you are pregnant or not. Actually, there aren't many secrets. You need to be aware of your body and listen to it. Discipline is also important, but I don't want it to sound negative. You have to enjoy the routine. When you see the effects, it's worth taking care of yourself. How much weight did you gain with pregnancy? Only ten kilos. In the remaining three, fourteen. During my last pregnancy, I gained less weight because I used more energy with three kids. Apart the baby (Maximo Adriano weighed three hundred and seventy kilos at birth) the placenta and the amniotic fluid … That's four or five kilos. Then the body evolves rapidly. Now, I’m at my usual weight, even if it's distributed in a different way (laughs). Therefore, you have to train and tone. Which part costs you more to return to its original state? I have breastfed my four children and haven't had breast surgery. The breast suffers a lot with each pregnancy and, above all, with breastfeeding. I've noticed that this has changed and no matter how much I train, I can't fix it. If you ever think about it, you can always resort to aesthetic medicine ... Not yet ... I want to wait a moment. At least see how my body is evolving. If I had to make up my mind tomorrow, I wouldn't change it, but I would go back to what it was like before I became a mom. There are "celebrities" who recover almost by magic right after giving birth, and some who talk about surgeons. Have you heard that about yourself? It makes me laugh! Whoever says this is completely ignorant and should ask the doctor if it's possible to operate the bowel after giving birth. It's contraindicated. If you've had a bad diet, a sedentary lifestyle, and gained twenty-five kilos, recovery costs you more. But if you stick to your routine, it doesn't have to cost that much. Do you see the pressure some women feel to regain their body? Whose pressure? No way! At work, they always told me to come back whenever I wanted. I set pressure or goals for myself. Moreover, if someone pressured me, I didn't care. First, I would be worried if everything is alright. When do you train sports? You get up early? At seven or eight in the morning. Is it possible with four children? Yes, if I don't train, I don't have enough energy to get through the day. Seriously. It seems the opposite, but it keeps me active for the day. Besides, exercises in the afternoon make me lazy. Taking care of myself, being aware of my body and what it needs helps me be more determined and have more energy. When I start training, everything is beneficial and I enjoy. I also tell you that we all have our days (laughs). But even on days when I don't rest well and sleep for two or three hours, I get up to train. Even if I'm a little lazy, I feel much better. How much time do you dedicate to sport? One hour a day, four or five days a week. Sixty percent is food and forty percent is exercise and rest. What exercises do you practice? I recently gave birth and I can't do anything that is very aggressive or hitting the ground, so I do pelvic floor and hypopressive exercises. Also breathing exercises and stretching. I go step by step. With who do you train? Usually with Noe Todea, my personal trainer. Now, that I'm recovering from the birth, also with Caroline Correia, the physical therapist with whom I wrote the book "Pregnancy, and now what?". When I recover, I want to take off my orange kickboxing belt. I've been doing this for fourteen years, though occasionally because of pregnancy. I also want to come back to "country" dance classes. When I was little I lived with my parents in Torrejón and there was a lot of "country" culture because of the American base. Your husband also works his body hard. Don't you train together? Each of us has our own specific training, tailored to our own needs. We can be in the gym at the same time, but not training together. Do you follow any diet? I try to eat balanced. Maybe I avoid foods that aren't good, like wheat. You shouldn't spend every day on industrial baking. But there are times to enjoy everything without feeling guilty. We train and work all day to pay ourselves these little tributes later. You are radiant in photos, but when it comes to showing off your body, you feel modest. Not at all. I never thought about it (laughs). This is something I have always done and it's part of my profession. Why should I be ashamed? Which part of your body do you like to emphasize during photo sessions? The shoulders and clavicles, which seem like a very feminine part to me and I like to mark them. Also the look, although it depends on the context and style. Do you have complexes? A lot! Like everyone else. My feet are very long. Also hands. I look at my feet and think, "How long!". But, what foot size do you wear? Thirty nine. It's a normal. But I look at them and see long feet. I try to work on the rest of my body to avoid complexes. How did you spend the summer? We spent a week in Mallorca. We spent the rest of the time, from March, at home. When I came to Mallorca it was like a trip to another world! So it was a gift and we liked it very much. Were you afraid to travel during the pandemic? No way. I have respect, but when you are responsible then no problem. I'm not afraid or panicking before going out on the street. Not at all. During lockdown, you and Sergio could enjoy children much more. It was very nice to be together for twenty-four hours all the time. Moreover, during those weeks in lockdown, we all slept together in the same room. How is Sergio as a father? He is very affectionate and loving. He has always loved children and plays a lot with them. Do you share responsibilities? We don't strictly separate responsibilities. Depends on the day.   Have the children already gone back to school? Yes, but I was afraid they might wear the mask wrong. The only one who should wear it's my eldest son, six years old, but the others see and imitate their brother. Do any of your sons have football player skills? You have to ask their father because I have no idea about football. My children play with everything: ride motorbikes, play football, jump, ride on wheels, karate, judo, tennis ... They practice everything. They still research everything and see where their limitations are. In addition to Máximo Adriano, another new member has appeared in the Ramos family: the son of your brother-in-law René Ramos with singer Lorena Gómez. Is she asking for your advice? Lorena is a very prepared and super determined woman. Cares very well for the baby. She is delighted and super happy. Why are people surprised by your friendship with Vania Millán? Vania is a very special person and one of my close friends. Lorena is René's girlfriend. They have nothing to do with each other. People try to find controversy where there is none. Lorena is charming and has already made it clear that there is no confrontation. On the contrary, we get along very well. When they tell me or read something about it, I laugh. We know what our life is and luckily we are three super happy women. Vania and I get along very well and we love each other very much. Of course Lorena too. Are you planning any new projects? I continue working on "El Hormiguero" and designing. There were also several advertising proposals.

[thehereticaldeserthermit]

𝕆𝕦𝕥 𝕆𝕗 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤

ROLE PLAYER GET TO KNOW YOU PROMPT

Alright TDC Community It’s time for a task, 

and this time we’re all going to get to know each other a little better. 

Under the cut, you’ll find forty out of character questions split into two parts: OOC about your muses, and OOC about yourself! Answer what you’d like, add more if you’d like.

When you’re done TAG some of your writing partners and keep FUN going. 

-there is no pressure to participate

-IF You Are Reading This And You’d Like To Participate Consider Yourself Tagged My Friend! 

Much Love,

TheJesseWhoLurks

I tag @lyr-taxidermist  @theghostofharar  @hurdygurdyskeksis  @urskekyagvi  @skekmal-the-hunter  @skekso-the-emperor  @gourdplayer   @hedonistschambers  @ulvanmaudra  @littlebluezoologist @the-wandering-urru  @queenofthetides  @juliejewel24 @thecastleurru

OOC About  Your Character(s)

1.     What do you want to get out of playing this character(s)?

The reason I wanted to write for Gra was to meet fellow fans that loved the world of TDC as much as I do, I wanted to find fellow writers. I wanted to steep myself in the fandom. You can easily consider me skeKSis obsessed but I am growing a fondness for their counterparts -slowly ❤

2.     Describe your character(s) with three words.

Passionate | Erratic | Trustworthy

3.     What made you decide to write this muse?

Originally I was going to pick up The Ritual Master, he’d been my OG fav from the movie BUT Gra kept ... poking me with his scepter? Like; I live in the desert, you live in the desert, Ima recluse, you’re a recluse =we are simpatico. I think The Heretic picked me because he simply would not leave my mind when I considered him as a possibility. 

4.     If you could change one event in your muse’s life (in their main or canon verse), what would you change?

Canon. I mean they left us kinda hanging there. We really do not know what happened do we? They are simply, just not there anymore. I do not want them to perish, I want them to make it to the finish line and become urSkek. It breaks my heart to think they did not make it.

5.     If you could tell your muse one thing, what would you tell them?

I would not say anything, just hug him REALLY tightly and probably not let go until he gives me a chitter-laugh.

6.     If you could give your muse one gift, what would you give them?

I would like to give them...ME. 

7.     If you had to take one positive thing away from your muse, what would you take away?

I do not want to take a positive thing from the fibers that make up Gra. I feel they are very interwoven in his tale. Removing one would make another untether. If I could take away or diminish a bad trait Id have him not be so stubborn and or impatient but then again he would not be Gra now would he?  

8.     If you could “borrow” one aspect of your muse and apply it to yourself or your own life, what would you borrow?

His determination, passion. Damn son. You get things done. 

9.     Do you genuinely want your muse to be happy? What do you think would make them most happy in life?

Yes. He’s gotten his ass handed to him, I think he might be owed a slice of peace and happiness.  What makes him most happy? He’s already showed me; his relationships whether its friendship, extended family or a lover those are treasures he holds near and dear to his heart.  

10. Do you enjoy putting your muse through angst? What do you think would break their heart the most?

Usually I prefer to plot out angst rather then let it completely run a-muck because you never know what your partner is comfortable with, what might trigger them in a detrimental way and simply set fire to a plot unintentionally. 

I already know; it literally is ... break his heart. 

11. What do you love about your muse?

His dynamic energy, the wild fire, the mystical chaos, the creativity is off the charts. His sharp distinguished features, the way he looks shamanistically feral as compared to his brethren and their Garthic garb. His use of the color red. His scratchy rasp of a voice. His laugh. 

12. What do you hate about your muse?

He is a high maintenance muse, he is demanding and screeches loudly for what he wants. 

13. What about your muse amuses you?

The fact that he is a skeKSis. This brings a whole slew of challenges to the table for a writer. Case in point, I was writing a reply one day and I went to put something in along the lines of ‘he arched his brow and blah blah’ THEN he hit me! He has no eyebrows to arch, ahhh! I have to stop and think about how to write out expressive traits or reactions that are not of the usual human reaction tone.

14. What about your muse makes you sad? 

How fragile his heart really is after all the shit he’s endeared. 

15. How would you describe your muse to someone about to meet them, in person, for the first time?

Get Ready For A Wild SURPRISE!

16. Would you like your muse as a person if you met them in real life?

Yes, I like creative souls. I cherish them. 

17. In what ways are you better than your muse? In what ways are they better than you?

I do not think I am or he is better than the other. 

But I will say he is a handsome devil, for a skeKSis. 

18. Why do you think you connect to your muse?

Creative. Outcast. 

19. What aspect of your muse’s personality is most important to you? What aspect of your muse’s personality do you think is most important to them? Is it the same? Why or why not?

His passion and drive. I’d say its the same answer for us both. All of the accomplishments he tackled probably had their stacks of obstacles with each to-do. You’d have to have an unending supply of passion and drive to keep going, to complete all. He really is a work-a-holic and a busy body skek.

20. Has your character(s) changed over the time that you have been playing them? How have they changed?

Not yet but I am sure he will, creative liberties will be taken since I only have a a episode or two to work with -am I right? 

About You!

1.     What is your name? 

Jesse. 

2.     What is your profession?

secret shit. 

3.     What do you do to relax?

I write. Play video games. Naps are divine. Hot coffee and watch YT videos. DOodle. Desert combing walks. Long hot baths. Organize things xD

4.     What is your favorite treat (desert)?

All kinds, I’m not picky. I love me some chocolate lately. 

5.     Favorite movie

Too many to list. Its October right now. All I want is Hocus Pocus, some Harry Potter and Practical Magick at the moment. Tis the season. 

6.     Favorite book

I do not think I have a favorite. BUT I will admit that I have a copy of The Dark Crystal that I STOLE FROM A LIBRARY YEARS AGO! I have kept it all this time, its falling apart and its aged with beauty and I adore it  ❤ I also have a Jim Henson book about puppetry and his works, there is a page from TDC and if my memory serves me right it has the concept art of skekGra in it sooo sooo I was looking at skekGra YEARS AGO AND HAD NO CLUE the conjunction that would line up in the future! I really neeed to go find this book but its in a storage shed that will be a fresh hell to get to =[ *

7.     Favorite vacation spot

Anywhere where its either very green and or by some body of water. Ocean, river, lake. Yes, good. -not very many humans around save for present company reading thiiiis. 

8.     Favorite Disney movie

Are you kidding me? Too many to list, although I will say The Sword In The Stone did play a part in Gra’s Crystal Skimmer named Archimedes after the grouchy old owl. 

9.     How did you first get into role playing?

Years ago. I started writing on face book. I wrote for a pirate believe it or not, he was my first muse and he holds special place in my black heart and probably always will. But I am disinclined to acquiesce the gift of further details about this scurvy cursed muse, Ha!

10. What was your first platform? If it was something other than Tumblr, what made you get into Tumblr?

It was face book, before they got all crazy about accounts and security. I moved over to tumblr because writers were incredibly rude and rapid fire RP-ers. One liner sentences and I’m like NOPE I need a novel length. 

11. What’s a grammar rule you find yourself breaking or ignoring a lot?

Sometimes I have a touch of dyslexia, sometimes I typo, sometimes I am too tired to proof read, sometimes I make blunders. But I tend to focus on my mistakes rather then other peoples. I just go with the flow, I just write no matter what their level of ‘proper grammar’ IS because I’d like to think that maybe they are just starting out, maybe they will fall in love with writing and maybe they will be the next author who creates a world we all fall in love with and want to immerse ourselves in.  

12. Are there any languages besides English in which you think you could comfortably roleplay?

I do not RP in other languages. However I did have a muse at one time who was French, I would throw in little phrases but it was never entirely done in French and I do have a British muse at the moment, so again I will use slang and little sayings to make them well rounded as best as I can. Those are just little details I like to include that many others might skip on but I thrive for deets. 

I do however have role play writing partners that are from ALL over the world which is amazing to me. 

13. Do you listen to music while your write?

ALOT. I have tracks specifically for skekGra, that take me to his frame of mind. Even TDC soundtrack at times, the puppet show song and the blue flame part 2 are on replay a lot. 

14. Are you a morning, day, evening, or night writer?

I am all over the place. My life is very hectic. I’d like to say its usually in the afternoon of evening for me, the house is settled down and things are silent but thats not always how it works out. Oftentimes I will sit down and write a reply or two, then dip to do mundane human things that adults do, then return back for a few more replies. 

15. How does tiredness affect your writing?

Kills it. The weekends I work long hours therefor my brain is like WHAAAT. 

16. What is your biggest obstacle to writing every day, if time doesn’t count?

It is always TIME. Sometimes stress levels can be an obstacle too, no lie. If something major is going on, I just throw my hands up like ‘I got nothin’’ and thats that.

17. How many drafts is a paralyzing amount?

Oh damn. Been there done that. I am much more picky about it nowadays. I try to limit skekGra to a certain number of replies because he also has to allow room for other muses. 

Currently: Gra has ten replies on tumblr -no actually 11 &&& 4 on discord. I am two shakes away from cutting HIM OFF! lol. 

18. Is there anything character-wise or writing style-wise that you can’t stand?

I’m open to different characters, I have written with a lot. I love a writer who has style, I appreciate the effort.  

Etiquette, manners and consideration are oftentimes LACKING as of late. 

19. What kind of anonymous questions are your favorite?

ANYTHING as long as it is not anon HATE. 

20. What is your weakest point in writing? Angst, fluff, dialogue, etc.?

T I M E not having enough time to write the angst fluff and dialogue, smut too lets be real. It really is a bummer to me when I  do not have the time, I work, I have a a lotta responsibilities, my life is like a hurricane a lot of the time so TIME is my weakness, oftentimes I am super J E L L O of people who are online all day, every day, always there I’m envious and I get writers FOMO which makes me laugh but its so damn true I could ugly laugh cry about it. 

[missmudpie]

Name Ten Films That Have, For Whatever Reason, Stuck With You

@millennialfangirl tagged me, and this was harder than I thought and I might have gone over the ten.  Also, tumblr is being tumblr and not cooperating with gifs, so only the first film has one.  Here they are, in chronological order:

Casablanca, 1942

Look, Casablanca is the best film ever made.  Is it my favorite?  No, but it’s the best, much better than Citizen Kane, which is often heralded as the pinnacle of cinema but is about a rich old white guy who loves his sled.

Here’s looking at you, kid.  Of all the Gin joints.  Round up the usual suspects!  I’m shocked - shocked!- to find that gambling is going on in here (Your winnings, sir.). This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.  As Time Goes By.  Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman and a supporting cast to die for.  Renault throwing away the bottle of Vichy water.

I could go on, but here’s why Casablanca has stuck with me: It’s one of my Dad’s favorite movies, too.  When I think of Casablanca, I think of him.  One Christmas (I can’t remember if I was in high school or college), the old timey theater in town played Casablanca.  I got us tickets as his Christmas present.  It is one of my favorite movie-going experiences (more on that below).

Star Wars, 1977

When I was little, we used to go to my maternal grandparents’ house every Tuesday, and I would watch Star Wars.  I was probably waaaaay too young - there’s audio of me playing out Star Wars with my My Little Ponies and I was like, three.  On my college essay, I wrote about how Return of the Jedi was my first movie (true story, I was six months old and slept through the whole thing, because apparently taking your sleeping infant to the movies is something parents did in the ‘80s).

Star Wars is where I learned about the Hero’s Journey.  About princesses and rebellions and wizards and flying spaceships.  I devoured the Timothy Zahn books and Young Jedi Knights series.  And yes, I’m a little down on it all after Episode IX - but I still love it.  It has impacted me in so many ways.  I know my life would be the poorer for not having seen it.

Raiders of the Lost Ark, 1981

If Princess Leia was the first damsel I saw who get herself out of distress, Marian Ravenwood was the one who solidified the idea that women were perfectly capable of getting into and out of trouble themselves, thank you very much.  Then there’s Harrison Ford in being Peak Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones - Intelligent, clever, brave-bordering-on-reckless.  Who wouldn’t want to go on far-flung adventures to find hidden treasure, and maybe punch some Nazis while you’re at it?

The Goonies, 1985

Speaking of far-flung adventures, how about going on one in your hometown?  Booby-traps, pirates, Italian gangsters, Sloth, hidden treasure - it’s every kid’s playtime fantasy come magically to life.  I still want to go down those tunnel slides and shoot out into a hidden lagoon.  They just don’t make movies like this any more - fun, family movies that don’t dumb down the action or characterization for kids, that’s a ride for both kids and parents alike.  This was the first movie I showed my kids during quarantine.

The Princess Bride, 1987

Inconceivable.  The Six Fingered Man.  Death cannot stop truly love.  Only mostly dead.  Have fun storming the castle!  Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya.  You killed my father.  Prepare to die.  ROUSes.

This is a perfect movie.  It is.  It is lightning in a bottle and it should never, ever be remade (those were just rumors, right?).  This is romance and humor and suspense and two of the best swordfights in cinematic history (fight me on this.  No, really, fight me.  I took fencing in college because of this movie), all wrapped up in the sweetest Happily Ever After.  I love it so much.

Jurassic Park, 1993

I’ve told this story before, but here it is again.  In the summer of 1993, I was 10 and my sisters were 8 and just turned 6, and we convinced our parents that we were for sure old enough to see Jurassic Park - a book my mother had read and thus knew what level of horror to expect.  It did not go well.  I ended up burying my head in my dad’s chest; my youngest sister was in my mom’s lap; and my middle sister, with no where left to go, ended up under the seat in front of her.

Now, it’s the movie we quote (Hold on to your butts).  When my youngest had jello recently, I told him to hold it up and look scared, then texted the picture around.  We all knew immediately what I meant.  The DVDs are given as gifts and then immediately stolen.  My youngest sister can recite the entire movie.  I can’t wait to scare my sons with it.

The Shawshank Redemption, 1994

I don’t remember this movie when it came out; I remember it was this movie I hadn’t really heard of at the Oscars, where it won none.  Not until I was much older did I realize what a travesty that was.  I first watched this on a pep band bus trip in college - not the time or place to truly appreciate it.  Months later, I rented it (remember renting movies?) and fell in love with it.

This is a beautiful movie about friendship and hope and finding light in the darkness.  It’s always on TV, and I will always stop and watch at least a few minutes of it.  The ending - the last half hour, really - is pure cinematic poetry, but noting beats Red’s monologue as he travels to find Andy on that Mexican beach.

That Thing You Do!, 1996

This movie is Capital-D-Delightful.  Just thinking about it makes me smile.  This is the movie that tipped me from Tom Hanks Fan to I Love Tom Hanks and Need Him to Be My Best Friend.  He WROTE and DIRECTED this gem of a movie.  The talent.  The song is legitimately catchy, the characters are Wonder-ful (see what I did there?), and it’s all in Day-Glo ‘60s color.  I love this movie and make no apologies.

Toy Story 2, 1999

Speaking of Tom Hanks, this is my favorite Toy Story.  Look, the first is a technological marvel, but Woody is an ass throughout most of the film.  The fourth is it’s own thing, and the third is really, really good and I ugly sob at the end, but it’s also got a lot going on there.  But the second - oh the second is beautiful in its simplicity.  In addition to all of Andy’s toys, we get Jesse and Bullseye and even Stinky Pete.  It’s an ode to friendship and love and the realization that life, for toys and people, eventually ends, and we have to appreciate every moment we have now.  It is my favorite Toy Story.

Finding Nemo, 2003

I don’t know if it’s my favorite Pixar film, though.  It depends on the day, but most of the time that distinction goes to Finding Nemo.  I first saw it when I was twenty, a decade before my first kid was born, but it has greatly influenced how I parent.  The conversation between Dory and Marlin in the whale, the idea that keeping anything from happening to your kid cuts both ways, the leap of faith, the mantra of “just keep swimming,” the notion that your kids don’t just want, but need to have independence - it’s all there, in Pixar’s stunning ocean animation.  I get choked up just thinking about it.  “Now go have an adventure!”

Honorable Mentions:

Forrest Gump, 1994

I loved this movie.  I love Tom Hanks in this movie.  I would watch it in snippets during college, while I ate dinner or lunch or just needed a quick study break.  But it’s been years since I last saw it, and I wonder if it still holds up.  It’s a Boomer movie made when the Boomers were - basically, just a little older than we old Millennials are now.  It’s American history in the last half of the twentieth century, but the big events - Vietnam, Civil Rights, even AIDS - are filtered through the lens of a straight white man who kinda wanders into history but doesn’t really get why the moments are historic.  I feel like it’s a film I appreciated at a certain time, but wouldn’t love as much now.

Avengers: Endgame, 2019

There just hasn’t been enough time for this movie to make the list.  Ask about it again in ten years.  Although, to be honest, I haven’t seen the whole thing since I saw it in theaters, and I fear it won’t live up.  It was the best movie-going experience I’ve ever had.  The crowd was so into it, and the last battle had everyone, me included, screaming at the screen.  Part of what makes Endgame so special to me is that, among the three big franchises that ended last year (Avengers, Star Wars, Game of Thrones), this one actually stuck the landing.  And yes, I could argue that Steve Rogers’ end doesn’t actual make any sense and deprives Peggy Carter of her agency - but in the emotional moment of the film, it worked.  That portal scene is the culmination of twenty-plus films, and I still can’t believe it works as well as it does.

Thanks again for this! I second tagging @lerayon for this.  I feel like I’m kinda cold-calling mutuals from our Arrow days, so no pressure.  But I’d love to hear what @machawicket @dust2dust34 @dettiot @theshipsfirstmate​ have on their lists.

[ijustwant2write]

The Benefits of Friendship-Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

(GIF credit to @honestsycrets)

Masterlist

Summary: requested by anonymous: ‘Hello! I’m not sure if you’ll take this idea but I figured I would give it a shot. Could you do one with Y/N and which ever Ragnarson son you would like (Bjorn, Ubbé, Sigurd, Hitvtserk, or Ivar). Can it be about Y/N’s first time with them? Y/N could either be Viking or a slave from another place mentioned in the show.’

Characters: Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: mentions of sex, forced marriage, humiliation

(A/N: Siv and Hilde are made up characters; also I hope this is along the lines of what you want.)

(Also A/N: IT DOES NOT MATTER WHAT AGE YOU DO CERTAIN THINS LIKE KISSING, HAVING SEX OR EVEN HAVING A RELATIONSHIP, DO WHAT MAKES YOU COMFORTABLE AND ONLY DO THINGS WHEN YOU ARE READY! DON’T LET OTHERS TELL YOU WHAT TO DO!)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sitting at the kitchen table, I stared at the gifts bestowed to me from my suitors, men trying to bribe me into marrying them. There was jewellery, dresses, foreign foods, and of course money, but I didn’t want any of that. Being betrothed scared me, I knew nothing of what men wanted, nor how to be a perfect wife. I never knew what it was to be loved (besides from my family), there seemed to be no men in Kattegat that were interested; those asking for my hand in marriage only did so because my family were fairly wealthy. Normally this hadn’t bothered me in the past, after a long think about men, I had decided that living freely was the best option for now, before I was trapped in a marriage I didn’t want to commit to.

Though seeing my friends fooling around with the other boys, or even beginning relationships of their own accord, made my true feelings shine through. Festivities and feasts were probably the worst. I couldn’t get away from it, they were huddled up together, kissing, flirting. Although I was happy for them, slight jealousy always shone through, forcing me to leave them before I ruined the night.

“Still having trouble choosing?” my grandmother asked as she slowly walked towards me.

“Something like that.” I mumbled, still staring at the gifts.

“They’re all very nice, wouldn’t mind some of these myself.”

“Oh, how will I ever decide?” I sarcastically stated.

“I don’t understand how you’re not married off already.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s enough men longing for you,” I rolled my eyes at her,“and these are only a few offers.”

“Well they won’t want me when they realise I can’t be the perfect wife for them.”

“Ah, what makes a perfect wife anyway? As long as they have somewhere to stick their cock, men are happy.”

I grimaced at her statement.“Thank you grandmother.”

I had stared at these items for far too long, and I needed to get away from them. My parents didn’t want to pressure me, but they were going to want an answer at some point. How was I supposed to make a decision like that when I hardly knew them? I hardly knew anything about men in general! It was embarrassing to think I hadn’t even kissed a man, yet I was going to be married soon. All these lies I had to keep up with, answering people’s questions with made up stories just so I didn’t seem sad or unwanted. There was only so much you could make up with a lack of experience.

As usual, it was busy in the centre of Kattegat. I wove between people, smiling at those I knew. But no matter how much I tried to distract myself, my mind found itself constantly thinking about my big decision. Perhaps I should talk to some of the other girls I knew in arranged marriages, they didn’t all seem bad...

Looking over a handful of bracelets at a stall, I heard the familiar sound of scraping along the ground. I saw him approaching in my peripheral vision, as well as the crowd dispersing quickly, some hiding their faces.

“Hello Prince Ivar.” I turned to him and smiled, curtsying before him.

“(Y/N), it’s good to finally see you again. Where have you been hiding this time?” He asked, walking past me with his crutches.

I followed on.“I wasn’t hiding, I was only at home. I had important things to do.”

“Ah yes, your suitors. I have seen quite a few come and go.”

I sighed.“Yes, there are a few to choose from.”

“I’m not surprised, your family are almost as wealthy as mine, there will be many wanting to marry you.”

“And here I thought that they were marrying me because they loved me.”

He chuckled.“You always knew this day would come, we even spoke of this when we were young.”

Being a wealthy family, we were respected just as much as Ivar and his. I had grown up with the Ragnarsson’s when I was much younger, though we parted as we became young adults. There were too many responsibilities for them, and as for me, I had to act like a proper lady; they went off raiding, avenged their father, came back, argued, and here I was, waiting for someone to take interest in me. It seemed that Ivar was the only one who bothered to keep up conversation with me. At first I assumed it was to stay loyal and friendly to my family, but we somehow ended up as friends again. Ivar was blunt and honest, and I didn’t have anyone around me like that anymore. I needed that, he kept me sane.

“I know. It’s just...”

“Let me guess, you’re scared?”

“What? No-”

“All women are scared, don’t worry.”

“I suppose so. I just don’t want to choose the wrong one. What if he’s nice when I first meet him and then cruel as soon as I am bound to him?”

“Then you better make the right decision.”

I rolled my eyes.“How am I to do that when...never mind.”

“No, go on. What is it? It seems that I am to be your council today, I should give my advice.”

He came to a stop, and it was only then when I realised that we were stood outside the Great Hall. I leaned against the wall, looking away from him. It was too embarrassing, there was no way I was going to tell him my true thoughts. 

“(Y/N), you’re hiding something.”

“No I’m not! Let’s just stop talking of this, I came out here to get away from these thoughts.”

“Come, you need a drink.”

“I am not letting you get me drunk.”

“You do that yourself, I have no part in it.”

I sat with Ivar for hours, my cup overflowing with alcohol as I ranted to my friend. I didn’t know whether he was actually interested, but that didn’t stop me. I couldn’t believe how angry I was becoming over this, how much emotion I had hidden within myself. At first the hall had been quiet, only us two in there (minus my shouting as I drank more and more) until Hvitserk and Ubbe walked in, their group of friends trailing behind them, laughing loudly. Ivar and I looked over, watching as they approached. Ivar grunted, he never got on with these people, let alone his brothers. I normally would welcome them with a smile, beckon them over even, but right now, I didn’t need any couples around me.

“(Y/N)! There you are! Finally, Ivar has been missing you.” Ubbe teased, rubbing Ivar’s head. The younger brother shoved him away, avoiding eye contact with me.

“(Y/N), you’re drinking without us? We best catch up then!” Hilde and Siv giggled as they crowded me, snatching up the drinks being poured out. Ivar and I shared a glance, not sure where this night would lead.

Unfortunately, my night was filled with questions from my friends about my suitors; what they looked like, how much money they had, what gifts they had bestowed upon me. It was draining to go over the details, and they could tell that I was holding things back. However, this didn’t stop them from interrogating me, soon everyone was joining in.

“You know what I just realised?” Hilde caught everyone’s attention.“I’ve never seen (Y/N) around a man, romantically I mean.”

The others looked at each other, some nodding and others thinking it over. I glared at her, praying that this conversation wasn’t going where I thought it was.

“Have you ever been asked about courting (Y/N)? Any gifts, any gestures? Besides those wanting you for money.”

“No.” I mumbled.

“Really?! Even at feasts and festivals? Not even when everyone is pissed up drunk?” Siv exclaimed.

I lowered my head, humiliated by my ‘friends’ words.“I...it just...”

“(Y/N),” Hvitserk held back a laugh,“you have had sex, right? Please tell me someone has taken her virginity!”

I opened my mouth to retaliate when Hilde interrupted.“Why didn’t you tell us? We would have set you up with someone!”

“No wonder shes’s always frustrated! That explains a lot!”

Siv gasped.“Is that why you’re always with Ivar? Because you’re both virgins?”

Ivar growled, slamming his fist on the table.“You know very well that I have bedded women before.”

“Ivar, not getting it up doesn’t count.”

I didn’t hear Ivar’s insult back as I bolted from my chair, rushing out of the room. I thought these people of dear friends, yet here they were, disrespecting me, only judging me by who I had sex with...or who I hadn’t had sex with. It was dark now, and that mixed with the alcohol was really effecting my stability, I was stumbling over my own feet as I tried to navigate my way back home. When I finally made it there, I quickly calmed myself, not wanting to wake any of them with my sobbing. Luckily I found that none of them were awake, making it easier for me to crawl into bed, curling up into a tight ball as I silently cried myself to sleep. 

The next day I was quiet, still upset about being made fun of. When asked if I was well, I responded to my family that I was still overthinking my decision of a suitor. The lie worked, all of them soothing me, reassuring me that my mind would be made up soon. 

Daydreaming as I looked out of a window, I was brought back to reality when I saw a slow, tall figure stumble its way towards my home. My eyes squinted, confirming my guess as to who it was. Without a word being said, I grabbed my cloak, rushing outside to meet Ivar halfway. He looked pissed off (nothing unusual there), not making eye contact as I cam to a stop in front of him.

“Ivar, what are you doing here?” I asked, out of breath from running.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“You seem surprised.”

“Sorry, I’m sure you have better things to be getting on with.”

“You’re my friend....come, let’s go for a walk.”

Ivar seemed skittish, nervous almost. I wanted to be careful with my words, especially since the conversation wasn’t flowing as well as it usually did. Ivar was explosive, one wrong word and he could get so angry that even the Gods would tremble. We found ourselves on a winding path in the woods, an uncomfortable silence filling the atmosphere. 

“You’re still upset over what was said?” Ivar finally said, leaning against a tree as he took a moment to rest.

I suddenly snapped back.“Yes! Of course I am! They embarrassed me, I thought they would be more sympathetic. I’ve never mentioned it before because I was scared something like this would happen-”

He raised his hand as he interrupted me.“Alright, I get it, I don’t need to hear your rambling.”

“You really know how to make someone feel better.”

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. Look...I understand what it’s like to be in that situation. But how could that be true?”

“Really Ivar? I don’t exactly have men throwing themselves at my feet.”

“They are fools.”

“Don’t pity me.”

“I’m not.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, slightly blushing from his comment.“What are you trying to say?”

“Why do you care so much about what they think?”

I knew he was trying to change the subject.“It’s not really about them. It’s about the man I’ll be marrying. Who wants a woman who has never had any experience? I’ve never even kissed a-”

Ivar grabbed the back of my head, harshly pulling me in to kiss him. Shocked, I stayed still against him, unsure of what to do. But as soon as he started moving his lips, my instincts kicked in. I started to get more into it, liking how it felt, especially when his other arm wrapped around my lower back, our bodies pressed together.

Ivar pushed me away gently.“There, now you’ve kissed a man.”

I knew that my next words were bold, but I was going to say it anyway.“You know that I’ve not done anything else as well right?”

“(Y/N), you can’t possibly want to bed a cripple-”

“Don’t use your legs as an excuse! Do you want to fuck me or not?”

His mouth gaped open.“I-Right here?”

“Yes. Ivar I trust you-”

“But what if I can’t....”

Insecurity swept over me.“Do you...do you want to?”

I saw that he was thinking about it, before a darker look washed over his face.“Get on your knees.”

“What?” his sentence made me breathless, but I liked how he said it.

“Just do as I say, I’m going to show you how to properly please a man.”

[buckybabybaby]

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 13)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he’s always wanted, and if it wasn’t for you, his best friend, he wouldn’t have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it’s tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1954

Chapter summary: Classic only one bed dilemma ‘cos I’m a sucker for a cliché…

Warnings: none!

Previous: Chapter 12

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

After your star-studded weekend, the normality of school is refreshing. You’re not sure how you would cope with fame yourself, even one evening surrounded by such wealth and excess had almost been too much for you. It’s a completely different world from the one you know, and as Bucky has demonstrated, it is incredibly easy to get caught up in the wrong side of Hollywood. Your greatest wish for him now is that his new team keep him safe as far as they can.

Peggy finds you early on the first morning back, keen to get all the gossip.

“So how was it? Your date with James?”

You roll your eyes. “It wasn’t a date. And it was good. Fun.”

“Just 'fun’?”

“Yes, Peggy.”

“So, he didn’t invite you back to his hotel room, and, you know?”

“No, Peggy.”

“That’s disappointing.”

You scoff at her. “You’re ridiculous. And anyway, there was no hotel room because he was travelling for more promo up north.”

“Oh of course, the breakfast show. Did you watch it?”

You had, heart in your mouth as Bucky sat rigid in front of the cameras. As the interview progressed he had relaxed into his chair, joking along with Sam and his other cast mates, and by the time they wrapped it looked like he was actually enjoying himself.

You nod. “He did well, didn’t he?”

“Just make sure he doesn’t hurt you again Y/N.”

“What? You were the one who was pushing me to make up with him.”

“Yeah, but, still. I’m not scared of him.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you send her away as you try to focus on your marking. You’re glad she’s on your side if you ever need her, and you hope you won’t where Bucky is concerned, for his sake as well as yours. Not many have survived the wrath of Peggy.

*****

Bucky next calls you ten minutes after the last bell rings that Friday afternoon.

“Did you get my email?”

“Err, I don’t know?”

“Check it now, I’ve just sent it.”

Clicking away at your computer as he waits impatiently on the other end of the line, you find the message and open it, scrunching your face up as you hover over the many links.

“What is this?”

“Your tickets.”

“My ticket-” You stop as you recognise the airlines logo in the corner of the page, and when you download the attachment and the itinerary it contains, you understand what he’s done.

“Bucky, I can’t-”

“Yes you can Y/N.

“This is far too much.”

“No it’s not. It’s what we always said I’d do if I ever made it.”

“But we were only joking!”

“I wasn’t.”

Sighing, you read through the travel plan as Bucky chats away in the background about all the ideas he’s had about what you can do together when you’re there.

“And Dayton and Sophia are coming too! And little Benjamin. Adding you on didn’t cost much more.”

“That’s not how it works, Bucky.”

“Please Y/N.” The excitement drops from his voice. “I want to show you where I grew up, let my parents finally meet you, and just spend some time with my best friend. Proper time, not a few stolen hours when I’m in the country.”

You’re silent as you think over his request, and he takes it as agreement.

“So do you accept?”

“It’s very kind of you, so yes. But next time it’s on me.”

“All right.” He laughs. “This will be amazing, just wait. No adverse weather conditions or manipulative managers are going to get in our way this time.”

*****

The last weeks of the school year fly by as usual, and the first morning of the summer holiday is spent hurriedly throwing clothes and shoes into a suitcase, all too aware of the ticking clock counting down to the taxi’s arrival. It’ll be the first leg of a very long journey, down to the railway station where further along the line you’ll meet Dayton, Sophia and Benjamin, and then onto the airport express.

Your door bell rings as you’re zipping up the bag, and you drag it down the stairs as you run through your list of essentials one last time. Your passport, tickets and phone are all definitely there, so you hand your case to the driver and decide that if you haven’t got anything else now then you’ll just have to go without it.

The taxi is a lot, lot, nicer than the ones you’re used to. Bucky had booked it along with everything else, clearly not sparing any expense despite you insisting economy would be more than enough. You still don’t know how you feel about him paying. It’s one thing you buying a plane ticket for him a year ago, when there was the understanding that it’d be repaid, but this was a 'gift’, as Bucky said. You’re torn between thinking of it as a perk of his new life, and feeling like you’re using him for his money.

Hauling your suitcase on to the train as Saturday shoppers bustle around you, you find the first free seat and drop into it, texting Dayton the letter of the carriage you’re in. The rest of the journey is a bit of a whirlwind, all the connections on time but it is still a close call with a toddler in tow. Once you are on the aeroplane however, it all calms down. Benjamin is fascinated by the clouds out of the window, and you volunteer to sit next to him whilst his parents get some much needed rest. You feel especially bad for Sophia, travelling at nearly six months pregnant, but you know how important it is for her to go home before the new baby arrives, her own parents living just a few hours north in Massachusetts.

Your flight is one of the last to land that evening so passport control is virtually empty, and Dayton’s families cases are the first ones unloaded to be collected. Standing there as the last few bags come up and the carousel stops, you stare at it as the realisation of what that means causes your shoulders to slump.

Shrugging in defeat when Dayton questions the wait, you scuff your trainers against the floor, eyes burning with the combination of lack of sleep and stress of lost luggage.

“I’ve let Bucky know we’re here so- oh, there he is.”

Turning around, you watch as Bucky flashes a grin at the security, who let him through the doors and into the baggage claim hall, jogging over to welcome the others first. Then he’s in front of you and picking you up in a hug, his infectious smile making you forget your exhaustion for a moment.

“You made it!”

“My case didn’t.”

He puts you back down, pulling away to frown at you. “What do you mean?”

“That’s the last of the bags. Mine isn’t here.”

“Okay.” He lets you out of his arms, already searching through his phone for the relevant number. “Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out.”

A dozen calls later, he finds your bag. Currently it’s enjoying the sunshine of southern Italy, having been mislabelled and sent completely the wrong direction at first. Bucky ensures you it’ll be on the next flight back to London, and then on to America as soon possible, no later than the end of the week.

You feel guilty for causing such a nuisance. “I’m so sorry Bucky. I’m such a pain.”

He shakes his head. “No you’re not. It’s not your fault. Come on, you can borrow something for tonight and I’ll take you shopping tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

You all slowly make your way to the taxi rank, the rows of yellow cabs blurring into one as the bags are loaded into the boot and you climb in behind Bucky, so tired you ache. Luckily the roads are quieter at this time of night and the trip is short, and as he pays the driver you stare up at the townhouse in awe, feeling like you’ve already been here from all the stories you’ve heard.

The front door is unlocked, the main luggage dumped by the front door to be dealt with tomorrow, and you unlace your shoes as you smile at the photos of the twins hanging on the wall. Further along the hall you can see Sophia’s also in the pictures with them, and in the most recent one at the end you come face to face with yourself. It’s only you and Bucky in the frame, neither of you are looking at the camera, laughing at something you can’t remember. Dayton must have been the photographer, but how it ended up here you don’t know. It’s something you’ll ask about in the morning, you decide as you follow everyone else through the house.

Being as it is his childhood home, Dayton knows where to go, leading his wife and son down the corridor and into a side room, leaving you and Bucky alone in the hallway.

He turns to you awkwardly. “Looks like you’ll be sharing with me.”

“That’s fine.”

“Err, don’t know if you’ll still be saying that when I tell you there’s only one bed.”

“Oh,” You say, eyes widening at the thought.

“Sorry, Y/N. I didn’t even think. It’s okay though! There’s a hotel on the corner, I’m sure they’ll have rooms-”

“It’s fine Bucky. Really.”

You stop him from reaching for his phone by catching his hand in yours, then, opening the door to what you’re guessing is his room, you pull him in after you and close it behind him. It’s cosy, the night light already on and casting a warm glow across the bed. You try not to look too relieved as you see that it’s not a tiny single but a large double or even king, with more than enough room for the both of you.

“Do you want me to take the floor?”

“No, Bucky. Don’t be silly,” You whisper, aware of the late hour. “It’s been a long day. I’ve been awake for nearly twenty four hours, I’ve lost my bag, and all I want right now is to sleep until my limbs stop hurting.”

He smiles softly in sympathy. “I’ll leave a t-shirt for you to wear. Do you think you’ll need anything else?”

“No. This is great, thank you.”

“There’s some of that moisturiser you use in the bathroom. The one you made me buy too. I know how you like to use it after you’ve washed your face at night.”

Nodding gratefully, you excuse yourself to his en suite. You’d packed a clean set of underwear in your carry-on just in case something like this happened, and after a brief shower you dress yourself in his top, feeling a little more human.

Stealing a new toothbrush out of the cupboard and giving your teeth a thorough clean with the floss you also find there, you cleanse and moisturise, then shuffle back into his room.

Turning down the bed as Bucky uses the bathroom himself, you slide under the covers on the left side. When he lies on the other side of the bed, careful to leave space between you, you smile sleepily across at him.

“I’m so happy to finally be here.”

“Yeah.” He agrees. “You haven’t met my parents yet.”

“It can wait 'til morning.”

“They’re going to love you.”

“You think?”

“I know. Just like I-everyone does.”

You can’t keep your eyes open any longer. “That’s kind.”

“It’s true. You’ll see.”

“Thank you for bringing me,” You murmur as you make your self comfortable, tugging the duvet up to your chin. “I think this is going to be a trip to remember.”

*****

Chapter 14

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Memories

Request: Can I get a request where Sirius and reader grew up together, her family is also part of the of the sacred 28, and they are like best friends even though she’s a slytherin. And when Sirius finally escapes Azkaban he goes and hides at her place. Maybe she tells people she adopted a large black dog 😜

A/N: I LOVED WRITING THIS. I approached it in a manner I don't usually do so I hope you like it and I really hope I’ve done your request justice because the minute I started writing it, I was over 2.5k words in before I even came up for air. Flashbacks are written in bold and are bordered by two ** at the beginning and end to hopefully avoid confusion. I hope you all enjoy! I am slowly making my way through the other requests. Love to you all!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, sadness, negative emotions, some swearing

Word count: 3.9k

MASTERLIST

In the wizarding world, there were very few publications that printed credible new stories. The instant you pick up your copy of The Daily Prophet from where the mail owl had dropped it on your stoop, you knew that this would be the only news story that would be covered across all news outlets.

It had been an age since you had seen his face; seen those eyes that you fell in love with in your fifth year of Hogwarts. Staring at the moving image now, those eyes are full of fear. Your heart breaks at the sight of him.

Moving to your kitchen, your mind takes you back to one of the many memories shared with Sirius growing up as a member of the Sacred 28:

**

The garden at the Black’s country manor is the opposite of their house. The garden is warm, it’s full of life. The house is cold, full of secrets.

You hated coming here; dragging your heels whenever your family had to make the annual summer trip. You didn’t like Mr. Black – he was cold, and his eyes were mean, and you didn’t like how he looked at his eldest son, Sirius.

The only reason you didn’t pitch up enough of a fight was so you could see Sirius. The same age as you, you had known each other since diapers, and he was your closest friend. Time apart from Sirius was filled with the constant stream of letters sent between the both of you.

He knew that you couldn’t spend a lot of time in the manor house; he knew to find you in his mother’s rose garden that was tended to with such care – something he had seen only in private; only when his father couldn’t see.

He joins you amongst the roses; inhaling their heady scent and counting the colours – red, pink, yellow, orange. An entire rainbow presented here in the garden; one that would not be reflected in the house.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

You turn to him, moving on the bench to make room for him. “I like the colours.”

He hums in agreement. You lean your head on his shoulder.

“Are you scared?” You ask.

“To go to Hogwarts?”

You nod. The letters had arrived to both of you within a week of each other. Your parents couldn’t be more thrilled – another Slytherin in their midst.

“I’m not scared. I’m excited to see what could happen.”

“I’m excited too. I just don’t want to let my parents down.”

Sirius knocks his shoulder against yours, “I don’t think that’s possible. It’ll be me doing all the disappointing – just you wait.”

You laugh, instantly feeling at ease. Sirius could always manage to calm you down. With him at Hogwarts with you, you didn’t feel as scared.

**

The newspaper makes its home on your kitchen counter.

The kettle is soon boiling on the stove as you decide that a warm drink would be needed for you to face the details of the article.

The shock of seeing his face has worn off somewhat as you finally turn to confront The Daily Prophet. Countless times you had imagined what Sirius would look like when he hit his thirties – he would always be handsome and he would always have his roguish smile, but staring at the photo again, you never imagined this.

Thrashing about in the photo; a man close to madness. He had lost part of himself the night Lily and James were murdered in Godric’s Hollow. From there, he acted – he didn’t think.

Tears begin to form as you remembered how he was on the very first time you travelled on the Hogwarts’ Express:

**

You were not ashamed to admit that a few tears did fall as you said goodbye to your parents before stepping onto the Hogwarts Express. Your mother and father hugged you tightly before promising to meet you on the platform for the Christmas break.

You hold onto that promise as you search for an empty compartment to sit in.

You never find that compartment; Sirius finds you first.

“(Y/N)! Here! I’ve saved you a place.”

“Sirius!” You shout, entering the compartment he was sharing with three other boys.

“(Y/N), meet James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.”

Each boy shakes your hand, and you immediately decide that you like them and would like to be fast friends with them.

“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

James’ eyes widen, “As in the (Y/L/N) of the Sacred 28?”

You nod, “The very same.”

James whistles, “I didn’t think I would be meeting a member of the Sacred 28 on my first day of school.”

“You’re meeting two actually. My surname is Black.”

**

Neither you nor Sirius realised just how much those three boys would mean to you. You smile wistfully as think of the events that unfolded after that initial meeting:

**

“Gryffindor!” The Sorting Hat exclaims atop of James Potter’s head. The smile on his face impossibly large as he makes his way over to the table reserved for Gryffindors.

The butterflies in your stomach had become a full blow riot; the nerves making your hands shake until Sirius grabbed one and squeezed tightly. The nerves had settled somewhat but they were still present.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” Professor McGonagall calls out.

You ascend the steps, taking a seat on the solitary stool. The Sorting Hat is placed upon your head and you can feel him deliberating which house would best suit you.

In less than a minute he has decided: “Slytherin!”

The Slytherin table shout their welcomes as you make their way over to them, taking a seat among your fellow first years.

You watch nervously as Sirius is called to take a seat. The Hat is placed on his head and it deliberates, trying to decide the best fit for him.

It’s as if the Great Hall falls silent when the Sorting Hat calls out “Gryffindor!”

**

Remus sends an owl a week after the news of Sirius’ escape from Azkaban breaks. He apologises for not writing sooner, but having been offered a teaching position at Hogwarts, he had been somewhat caught up in lesson plans. The rest of his letter oozes of his worry for you – how are you coping with this? Do you want to come to Hogsmeade? We can talk it through. How sorry he is for you having to experience this all over again.

Your reply covers the fact that you are alright – that yes, this was the last thing you ever expected but all it has done so far is made you reminisce of times at Hogwarts, was he experiencing the same now that Sirius was back?. However, he needed to tell you everything about his new job – what was it like? Was he teaching Baby Harry who was no longer a baby but old enough for Hogwarts now?

The onslaught of memories that have troubled you since the moment you spied Sirius’ face on the front page did not let up as you tumble into another memory from Hogwarts and distantly wondered whether Harry was experiencing the same exam stress:

**

The textbook is wrenched out of your hands, and you start to shout at the culprit before realising two things: you are in the library, and it was Sirius.

Instead of shouting and jeopardising your position in library, you settle on pinning Sirius with a glare.

He answers with his own glare, “You have been studying for months, what more could you need to know?”

“Not all of us is gifted academically, Sirius. These are our OWLs; I need to do well.”

“Take a break, (Y/N). I miss you.” He says, pouting.

You return his pout, “Poor baby Gryffindor. Give me back my textbook.”

He sighs dramatically before handing you back your textbook. You return to reading, writing the occasional note but you can feel the weight of his stare.

You huff, “Two more hours, and I’ll meet you outside your common room, okay?”

His smile is blinding, he presses a long kiss to your cheek before whispering in your ear, “Don’t study too hard.”

He leaves before he can see you press a hand to your cheek, trying to keep the imprint of his lips on your cheek.

**

Your relationship with Sirius had naturally progressed from friendship to romantic, but the friendship did remain. You offered him your whole heart, and he offered you his. It was often joked by Remus that there would be no better fit for the other. James had called it from the start, or so he claimed. It was hard to avoid the longing look Sirius would send your way when you weren’t looking.

It had been something similar for you – longing glances in class, at mealtimes. Wanting nothing more than to take the relationship to the next level; to tell him exactly how you felt about him – how being around him feels like you’re drowning until he looks at you and you can finally breathe and that pressure on your chest has been lifted.

But the fear. That fear of ruining a lifelong friendship paralysed you. It paralysed him as well – until sixth year when he needed to say something for the worry that his feelings may cause him to internally combust.

**

“Sirius, I don’t know why you’re angry at me. What have I done? How can I fix it?” It was so very rare that Sirius was angry with you, that you fought about anything.

“It’s nothing, (Y/N). Let’s leave it.”

“No. It’s upset you, and you’ve been off with me since breakfast. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Sirius runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back despite the fact that it would always back into his eyes. He huffs, remaining silent on the subject.

You roll your eyes at his silence, knowing that he would revert to silence to avoid the subject and work it out on his own. You use the silence to think back to breakfast, as to what could have happened to affect his mood for the whole day.

Nothing exciting happened – you joined the Marauders for breakfast, discussing Hogsmeade plans with Peter as you filled your plate. The only thing out of the ordinary was being approached by Justin Mayhew from your Muggle Studies class, asking if you had the notes from Monday’s lecture as he had missed it due to illness. You had smiled at him, telling him you would lend him your notes this afternoon in class. He returned your smile before thanking you – it was a quick interaction that had meant nothing to you.

Oh. You blink.

Oh.

“You’re jealous.” You state.

“It wasn’t that.”

“Then you’re going to have to elaborate then because all I’ve come up with is jealousy.”

“You smiled at him.”

“What?”

“You smiled at him. And I saw how the narrative of my life was going to play out – that I was destined to be reserved to the side lines and watch you smile at other men, and I was to act as if it didn’t bother me. As if I was the villain of your story.”

“What are you saying?”

He runs his hand through his hair again, letting out a frustrated groan, “I’m saying that I have been in love with you for years now and it’s fucking shit to realise that you don’t love me back.”

“Sirius, you can be so dense sometimes.”

“I’ve laid my heart bare, sprawled it on the table in front of us and you insult me?”

“Yes, you prick. I love you too.”

He blinks. Once, twice, three times before: “You love me too?”

You throw your arms wide, “Yes! I have since fifth year. I adore you.”

He’s in front of you in an instant; one hand on your cheek, the other wrapping itself around your waist, pulling you close to him. He searches your eyes for any hint of reservation – when he finds none, he kisses you.

And everything makes sense.

**

From there, you and Sirius went from strength to strength. Graduating Hogwarts together, quickly moving into a small cottage in the neighbouring village to Godric’s Hollow. Neither James nor Sirius could be too far apart.

James and Lily’s wedding was something to behold. You were not ashamed of the tears that flowed at the sight of Sirius up at the altar, stood next to James, looking as proud as any Best Man could.

The birth of Baby Harry truly brought everything together. Being named godparents to that precious child meant everything to you and Sirius.

As you sit in your living room, your mind drifts to Harry again – what would he look like now? Is he more James than Lily or more Lily than James?

A fresh wave of guilt crashes upon you as you think of how you never fought to keep custody of him. The first year after Sirius’ arrest had been so delicate; everyone walked on eggshells around you, afraid to set you off.

The night of James and Lily’s death was something that whilst you had been aware of the threat to their lives, you never expected. Placing your head in your hands, you think back to that night:

**

The right side of the bed is cold, you frown as you paw at it, looking for the man you loved.

Sighing, you pull the covers off you, shivering at the cold in the air. Wrapping your dressing gown around your body, you head downstairs, deciding to wait for Sirius in the living room.

You don’t have to wait long.

The front door opens, and Sirius falls into the house. You’re there in an instant. He’s pale and trembling – whatever has happened was bad enough to send him into this state.

“Sirius, my love, I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, screwing them up so tight you know he’s seeing stars behind his eyelids. He presses his hands to face as if trying to erase whatever image he was now seeing.

He takes a stuttering breath before finally uttering: “James. Lily. Murdered.”

His voice breaks on the final word and his tears finally start up. Heart-wrenching sobs take over his body, and he slides to knees in the entryway. Your arms wrap around him as you attempt to process the three words he barely got out.

There, you both sit, wrapped up in the other. Carding your hands through his famously unruly hair, you hold the broken man to your chest and let him get his feelings out.

**

Wrenching your eyes shut, you try to stem the flow of your tears. For obvious reasons, this was not a memory you revisited often. Sirius that night was broken – there was no other way of putting it.

You remember him coming home, barely containing his shaking. Only being able to get out the words: “James, Lily, murdered” before the sobs overtook him and you held him close – trying your very hardest to keep your own tears at bay. You had to be strong for Sirius now.

You never realised Sirius was planning his revenge as you held him in your arms:

**

He presses a searing kiss to your lips; it feels like a goodbye, you could only pray it wasn’t.

“Sirius, tell me where you’re going.” You demand as he pulls away.

He kisses you one more time, “I’m going to right a wrong.”

And just like that he’s out the door. By the time you realise what he’s going to do, his motorcycle is already in the air.

**

The rest of that day is a blur with only a few coherent moments throughout. You remember Remus arriving at the house; you remember the Aurors at your door; and you remember being told you would never see him again.

You had been catatonic after that; sinking to the floor, heaving out sob after sob. Your heart had been cleaved in two and thrown onto the floor. You could see no recovery from this.

It had taken time; it had taken care from Remus, from your parents.

Your relationship with parents had become rocky once you announce your relationship with Sirius. Your father worked with Sirius’ father and after Sirius had disowned the Black family, your relationship with him was the last thing they expected. It had taken a while, but they grew to love Sirius as if he were their son.

You think back to their care in the initial days after Sirius’ incarceration; how gentle they had been with you when all they wanted to do was rage at what had happened to their daughter.

Twelve years later, you still owed them for that. Your mother had waved away your constant attempt at thanks reiterating that she was your mother and would care for you regardless of the state you were in.

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

The flashbacks become more common after sighting a black dog in town. You think back to your Divination lessons at Hogwarts and remembering the meaning of sighting a black dog. You push that thought out of your mind; if you were to meet impending doom, it would have happened by now.

As you’re paying for your shopping, another thought hits you. It isn’t a normal black dog – and you suddenly feel so bloody foolish that you haul your shopping back to your house where you make enough food for two, leaving a plate by your door as well as large dressing gown that once belonged to the man you now suspected was hiding in his animagus form.

A knock on the door soon follows.

You’ve never answered the door faster.

Stood there, wrapped in the dressing gown, is Sirius.

“(Y/N).” The moment your name falls from his lips, it’s as if a twelve year old wound is suddenly healed.

“Sirius.”

You have a split-second decision to make: let him in or turn him away.

Your heart makes the decision for you. You move to the side, giving him permission to enter the house he once shared with you; the house he once hoped to have a family in.

“You’ve decorated.” He states, as if he hasn’t been imprisoned for twelve years, but rather on holiday.

You cough, “Yeah, I needed to make some changes.”

He nods, understanding the meaning behind your words.

He follows you into the kitchen where you immediately head over to the kettle; pouring water in before placing it on the stove to heat up. Whatever conversation was to follow needed a mug of tea. As your mother always says – the world can be put to right over a mug of tea.

His eyes focus on your left hand as you hand him the hot mug of tea and walk into the living room. He notes the lack of wedding ring, and he can’t help but feel some relief at that.

You notice him staring at your hand as he takes a seat on the couch across from you. “There hasn’t been anyone since you. After you were arrested and the Aurors showed up on our doorstep, I wasn’t in any state to even remotely think about dating.”

The guilt swims in his eyes.

You sigh as you stare at the mug of liquid in your hands, “I found the ring box two weeks after you were imprisoned. Remus suggested I pack some of your things away and move them into the attic. He came over and helped; I was putting on your favourite leather jacket when I felt the box in its pocket. The moment I opened it and saw the ring nestled there, I just about lost it all over again. Poor Remus had to calm me down - it took a while. I’ll never be able to pay him back for all he did in that first year.”

Sirius clears his throat before speaking, “I had it all planned out. I had asked your father and he had given me his permission. I was going to cook your favourite meal and ask you over dessert. It was a cliché, retired idea but I knew you would never appreciate the grand spectacles. There are few things I regret in this life; not proposing to you, not marrying you is one of them.”

There are a thousand things you want to say to him in that moment; the emotions coursing through your body are too much for you to catalogue, not knowing what or how to feel.

You don’t get a chance to form an answer, however. A knock sounds at your door and you release a swear that Sirius had never heard you say.

“You need to go,” You say, grabbing Sirius by the arm, hauling him up from his place on the couch.

“What? Why? I just got here.”

To answer his question, your mother shouts through the door: “(Y/N), dear, are you alright?”

You shout to the door, “Yes, mum. I’m just finding a clean shirt!”

You can hear her chuckle through the door.

Sirius squawks in indignation as you drag him to the back door. You hiss at him, “I need you to transform. The last thing my mother needs to find is you in my house. You’re probably the reason she’s here.”

Sirius smirks, “Your mother always did like me.”

“Transform, Sirius.” You plead. He nods silently as he leaves your house. The only confirmation of his transformation is the bark coming from your back garden.

You school your face into an expression which hopefully shows that you haven’t been spending time with your ex-boyfriend who happens to have escaped from prison where he was put for murdering some friends and muggles. Straightening your shirt, you open your front door to see your mother’s concerned face.

“I wish I could have come sooner,” She says, walking into your living room.

“Don’t worry about it, mum. You and Father were travelling, I wouldn’t expect you to drop everything to come back for this.”

She frowns, “But, darling, how could I not worry?” Clearly referring to your state after Sirius’ arrest was not something she did lightly, but it had to be brought up.

You wave a hand in dismissal, “It’s been twelve years, mum. I’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with it. Besides, I doubt I would be where he would come to for refuge.”

She purses her lips but says nothing more on the subject to your relief.

You smile at your mother, “How about a cup of tea?”

“That sounds lovely.”

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

“Honey?” You mother asks as she places two empty cups in the sink.

You hum.

“Why is there a large black dog in your garden?”

“He’s my new company. I figured after twelve years, I need some company, but didn’t want the hassle of a man.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I adopted him. He’s called Snuffles if you can believe it.”

Your mother chuckles, turning away from the kitchen window. “Snuffles? It suits him.”

You smile, “Doesn’t it just.”

She leaves soon after, a kiss pressed to your cheek as she walks out the door.

The minute the front door shuts, the back one opens and Sirius walks in.

“Fancy harbouring a fugitive?” He asks.

You have known this man for all of your life, been in love with him for over half – there was no-one before him and there would be no-one after him. It takes less than a minute for you to answer.

“Of course.”

Sirius answering smile is blinding.

[https-bkg]

Bakudeku fics to read during quarantine

I would appreciate if you reblogged/liked this if you used it! Please 🥺

Uncompleted:

The Way You Used To Do by edema_ruh

"We're really sorry," his father says, in a teary-eyed, wobbly way. "But your friend, Izuku, he's... He's gone, son."

Katsuki can do nothing but blink up at them for moments that feel like an eternity, eyes darting between both his parents in obvious confusion, disbelief, and, more than anything, indignation.

"What the fuck are you two talking about? The damn nerd is standing right beside you!

During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Stuck in a ghost-like state, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in this state is no one other than Kacchan.

Alternatively: Deku and Kacchan are soulbound.

This fic is my all time favorite bakudeku fic. updates are not too far in between, characterization is PERFECT, bakugou's development, and the LENGTH of this fic is genuinely supreme. I will 100000000% say with my whole heart that this fic is perfect.

Bad At Love by officiallytrash

(abandoned)

Class 1-A is put to the test in one of U.A.'s classes and tests where they face a faux-villain they can't seem to win against. During the two-day fighting, Bakugou noticeably becomes more and more shaken by the faux-villain.

Midoriya wants to help him and to become his good friend once again. Bakugou knows there is more than friendship in his own head but wants to keep Midoriya close, if only to keep him safe. But with jealousy, friendships, and their dreams on the line, they have to get even closer to help the other.

been awhile since I read this since it hasn't updated BUT this fic is amazing with it's characterization. It's realistic and a breath of fresh air.

The Art of Indifference by qye

Bakugou is used to being the center of attention- be it anger, confussion, or fear (mostly fear) everyone always gives him a reaction.

Until all the sudden, Deku doesn't.

What a fucking asshole.

FUNNY!! ANGSTY!! AMAZING. CUTE. IM IN LOVE, AND YOU WILL BE TOO.

The Space Between by Kanae_vR

Holding his expensive camera tightly between his hands, Midoriya Izuku looked up at the once-white letters displayed on the black storefront banner. “The Hard Luck Bar,” he murmured to himself, unsure if he was getting ready to enter or flee.

Amateur photographer Midoriya Izuku is stuck in a rut and desperate for a change of pace. Deep in his city's grimy underbelly, he finds exactly what he's looking for in the form of an underground punk sensation on the verge of their big break, fronted by a foul-mouthed firework of a human being.

Loud, brash and passionate, Izuku may have just found the creative spark he needed, as well as something new to set his soul ablaze.

Craving a rocker!Bakugou fic? Badabing, badaboom. This right here is perfect. In character and beautiful.

the baking prodigy in all-might pajamas by lucyheartfilia

College AU in where angry art major Bakugou Katsuki kind of, sort of falls in love with a cute, green-haired nerd that likes to bake in his all-might pjs at questionable hours of the night.

cutecutecutecutecutecuteCUTE.

Once Again From Better Days by limesicle

Katsuki wakes to find himself reset. It's a time when quirks are just starting, and he only remembers a bit about happened the first time. He remembers enough to know Deku is someone he hurt a lot. He remembers enough to know he had to watch Deku fall. He remembers enough to try to make things better this time.

Achingly beautiful,,, ANGSTY,, in character. Amazing.

Completed

Sink to Swim by cinnabee

“Kacchan, I think we’re supposed to--”

“Supposed to?” Katsuki whirled. “Supposed to? Will you fucking.. Listen to yourself? Shitty Deku, we just woke up in a dungeon and you want to play some villain’s game? Like it’s a goddamn puzzle we can just solve?”

~

As if there's any other choice.

WARNING: dark. very dark. ANGSTY. shit made me sweat. even tho it's dark the beauty of it cannot be missed

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You by Seeress

Stress-release sex was another one of their things. Friends with benefits, it was called. No strings attached. Just a bit (or a lot) of fun under the sheets.

By the time Katsuki noticed, it's been almost 3 months since he last heard from Izuku.

Or

Three years into their friends-with-benefits arrangement, Izuku begins to behave oddly. And Katsuki has difficulty dealing with it.

:/ too sad. heartbreaking. so beautiful.

Kacchan by KyuukaKoinu

Izuku always called Bakugou "Kacchan" growing up. But when peer pressure from others and society get in the way, the two boys grow distant and the nickname is buried. While Katsuki is running away from his emotions, Izuku is stuck trying to figure out how to cope with a broken heart. Kai Chisaki steps in to show the boy a new path. Will Katsuki figure out his own feelings in enough time to save him from the mysterious man?

[Izuku-centric / BakuDeku EndGame / Alt Overdeku ending is the very last chapter!]

Aight listen,, I ain't one for fics with a lot of smut.. but this plot was well-written and very interesting. It grabbed me and didn't let go.

Threads of Fate by hallyu1

It started with a dream—a dream about a prince. Izuku, future Chief of a remote tribe, is a dream-seer. And as he grows he will come to realize that his power is both a gift and a curse. When he meets the prince in his visions—The Dragon King, Bakugou—he must decide which path to follow. Change the future, or embrace the fate he had foreseen?

Will always hold this fic close to my heart. It's gorgeous.

2,645 Miles by mynameis152

Izuku wants so badly to get to the other side of the country without his parents realizing he's missing. He just wants to find out who he is.

Katsuki is desperate to make it to Los Angeles without being caught by the police, desperate to fix his mistakes.

Neither know what to expect, but on a roadtrip across the U.S. involving four fugitives, two oblivious runaways, a high risk crime ring, and a police taskforce, the two will discover that there's more in store for them than what they originally thought.

Who knew country bakugou and country kirishima were so powerful??? I did. I knew this bc of this fic. This fic is genuinely awesome. Definition of awesome.

Dream Sweet in Sea Major by showtiime

The day of the Hero Incident ends much more horribly than anyone could've imagined, but only Izuku knows that. He thinks as long as he forces himself to push through it that he can get over it, but of course, that's not how things go. His mom, friends, teachers, and even his childhood friend-turned-rival take note of his odd behavior and try to help, but he refuses to talk about what really happened. How long and how thin will Bakugou's patience go until Izuku finally confides and accepts the help he needs?

(in this fic, Shigaraki takes more from Izuku than he should've, Katsuki comes with the class that day at the mall, and there are still finals to be taken. Plenty can happen in only five to six weeks.)

Look at the WARNINGS! The way this story is written... I've never been in his situation but I felt it. Absolutely beautiful

Spider’s Web by infectedscrew

When a series of seemingly random attacks all over Musutafu leave civilians and heroes alike Quirkless, Inspector Midoriya is put on the case. Little does he know, he’ll be teaming up with the only person who has come out of an attack unscathed and Quirk intact—Katsuki Bakugo.

One of the first bkdk fics I've ever read and I haven't seen many people rec this so—here you go. It's SOOO good. It's like a movie and it's so well written. Absolute genius.

Leftovers by brichibi

When the rest of the class heads down the reality of the situation sets in — they’re both missing class at the best hero academy in the country, their classmates flat out calling their scuffle stupid.

Izuku still doesn’t feel like it was, though, especially when Uraraka asks the million dollar question:

“Did you two make up?”

That. That’s why that fight felt like it was worth it, even if, technically, Izuku can’t answer her. Have they made up? Is this making up?

He actually doesn’t know.

[Or: the house arrest fic where it is, somehow, more awkward to talk through feelings than it is to fight]

AMAZING AND SOSOSO CUTE. So glad I found this fic after thinking of it for so long. It's the perfectest oneshot ever.

[littlemisswolfie]

a lonely speaker in a conversation

AO3

Summary: Yi deals with the fallout of Cal’s kiss while the holidays--and Darius’s possible return--quickly approach

Yi barely sees Cal for the next few weeks. 

On one hand, it’s a little comforting. It  means se doesn’t have to talk to the guy who shit-talked her boyfriend and then kissed her and left without saying anything. Yi has always kind of hated emotional confrontations so that works in her favor. 

Except she really thought of Cal as a good friend before he kissed her. And she misses that easy friendship. He’s the only one of the troupe besides Darius who snarks at her on a regular basis, and she likes it. It makes her feel closer to Darius, in a way. 

Not that she’ll ever say that to either of them. They’d both just deny any similarities between them.

It’s Wrath who finally pulls her aside and closes the door behind them so they’re alone in the nursery. “What’s going on with you and Cal?”

“It’s nothing,” Yi says, and it sounds weak even to her.

“Yi.” Wrath’s voice leaves no room for argument. “Tell me what happened.”

“He kissed me.”

*

Wrath wants to call Darius right away.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yi hisses at her when she whips her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. “We shouldn’t bother him over something dumb like this.”

“You’re upset. That’s not something dumb.” Wrath’s fists are clenched, and Yi thinks that if she kept her nails any longer than they are she would be drawing blood from her palms.

“Yes it is. Please, Wrath. He’ll come back right away if you tell him what happened and I don’t want him to do that if he’s not ready.”

Wrath sighs. “At least let me check in on him,” she bargains. “I won’t tell him what Cal did.”

Yi nods. She thinks Wrath expects her to leave the room, but she doesn’t. She won’t deny that hearing Darius’s voice would make her feel better. Wrath shrugs and sends a text, and a second later her phone starts ringing. When the call gets answered, Wrath puts it on speakerphone.

“Hey, Wrath. What’s up?”

God, that voice. He sounds tired. Yi bites at her hand to stop herself from speaking while Darius and Wrath talk to each other. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She’s glad she’s pregnant so she can blame the emotional surge on the hormones instead of her just missing a guy.

“How’s Yi?” Darius asks, and her breath catches in her chest. “Has she still been hanging around with the rest of you?”

Wrath looks at her. “Yeah.” Then, even though Yi shakes her head, she says, “She’s here, if you want to talk to her.”

There’s a pause on his end of the line. “She is?”

Yi swallows past a knot in her throat. “Hi, Darius,” she says, so soft she’s not sure if he hears her until he gasps on the other end of the line.

“Hey, beautiful,” he responds, voice thick with emotion. “Damn, it’s good to hear your voice. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Yi says.

“Hey, now, no crying. You know I hate making you cry.”

Yi laughs a little. “I’m not crying because I’m sad, though. I’m happy to hear your voice.” Wrath extends her hand and Yi takes the phone. “How are things going on your end?”

“Well, I’m definitely not as monstrous as I thought I was.” He doesn’t exactly sound happy about that, and Yi figures it’s because of whatever it is he’s seen. “I don’t think I’m a good person, but I’m not as awful as I could be.”

“That almost sounds like glowing praise, coming from you.”

“You know me too well. On the bright side, that means I might come home soon.”

Her heart lifts. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure exactly when, but I think I’m almost ready.”

“Don’t rush it,” Yi says, a token protest. “But I’m sure Avi would love it if you got home by Christmas.”

“Just Avi?” Darius asks, a teasing tone to his voice.

She smirks. “Well, maybe Ripley, too.” 

“Well, I can’t disappoint Ripley, can I?”

For the first time in weeks, Yi feels truly happy.

*

“Yi and I spoke to Darius earlier,” Wrath says at dinner that night, and everyone perks up. Well, everyone except for Cal, who goes pale and has to quickly school his face into a more neutral expression. “He says he should be ready to come home soon.”

The troupe begins to chatter excitedly, asking for details and making plans, but Yi’s eyes stay trained on Cal through the whole meal.

*

After dinner and before the troupe heads down to pregame, Cal pulls Yi aside and actually looks at her for the first time since he kissed her. “Listen,” he says.

But Yi beats him to the punch. She knows she’s the weakest person in the room at any given time, maybe excluding Avi, but she knows how to slap a pushy guy (a skill she learned during bar hopping in college), and so she does. Her palm stings, but the sound of the blow connecting and the red mark on Cal’s cheek are satisfying enough that she doesn’t care. “Don’t you ever,” she hisses, “touch me without my permission again. Don’t act like you know what’s best for me and my child. Don’t say you’d be a better father than Darius. This is his baby as much as it is mine unless he says otherwise.”

Cal has the good sense to look ashamed. “I know, and I’m sorry. It was inappropriate of me to do that to you.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Did you tell any of the others?”

“Wrath noticed and asked. That’s why she called Darius today. We didn’t tell him what happened; I knew he’d come back right away if we did.”

As if on cue, Wrath appears behind Cal’s shoulder. “Caleb,” she says, using his actual name instead of his nickname like an angry mother, “you and I need to have a talk.”

*

Wrath decides Cal’s punishment is that he’s not allowed to go out on missions for a month, he has to tell Darius what he did when he gets home, and he owes Yi a favor. Yi makes him put the baby’s crib together specifically to spite him.

“But if you ever touch someone without their express permission again,” she warns him, “even a poke, I’ll kill you myself.”

And the scary part is that Yi knows it’s not an empty threat.

*

Her mom insists on hosting Thanksgiving dinner and putting the troupe up for the night so they can drink without worrying about driving home. The tiny apartment over the bike shop barely has room for all these people (and Ripley; getting her to the shop without inciting panic from the general public was an adventure and a half), but they make it work. Yi offers to share her old bed with Onyx and Wrath, Cal and Avi take the couch, and Malakai and Ripley sleep on the living room floor.

The turkey is made completely at home. “I even stuffed it,” her mom says. “Pre-stuffed turkey is bad for pregnant women.” 

“Yes, Mom,” Yi says.

Her mom laughs. “You’ll regret that tone when your kid uses it on you, believe you me.”

“Well I’ve got at least a year before he starts talking, so I’m good until then.”

Yi gets the first slice of pumpkin pie, though it’s more whipped cream than pie by the time she starts eating it. She’ll have to ask her mom for the recipe sometime soon.

After dinner, they gather around the TV to watch a rerun of the Macy’s parade. All the adults are drinking, except for Yi, who jokes that her glass of orange juice is just a virgin screwdriver. Avi has a cup of hot chocolate, cooled just enough so he doesn’t burn his tongue. Yi falls asleep on the couch and wakes up at midnight in her bed and with a full bladder. 

At least they left me at the edge, she thinks, glancing over her shoulder at Wrath and Onyx’s sleeping forms. Alright, baby, let’s get to the bathroom before momma wets herself.

*

Her feet hurt too much to go Black Friday shopping the next day, but she gives Onyx a list of things she wants (as many diapers as possible, for one thing) and her credit card (the one not linked to Darius’s account). Malakai goes with her to carry bags.

Wrath enlists her help with the motorcycle to keep her busy during the day. It’s in definite need of a tune up, no doubt about that, and the clutch is stuck to the handlebar, so Yi takes care of that for her. 

It wouldn’t have taken very long if Yi didn’t have to take bathroom breaks because the baby insists on using her bladder like a trampoline. 

“I’m surprised I haven’t pissed myself yet,” she grumbles to Wrath after her seventh bathroom break. “Do you think I can yell at Darius about this when he gets back? I feel like it’s warranted.”

Wrath laughs. “I think you could tell Darius to bring you the moon and he’d start building a rocket ship. So, yes, he’ll let you get away with anything you want to blame on him.”

Yi blushes and turns back to the bike.

*

They start decorating for Christmas the weekend after Thanksgiving. The troupe already has a huge tree that Malakai and Cal have to get on ladders to set up, and Onyx enlists Yi’s help in baking edible ornaments.

“Won’t they go bad way before Christmas, though?” Yi asks as they mix the sugar cookie dough.

Onyx winks. “That just means we get to eat them and make more!”

“Fair enough.”

Wrath lifts Avi up on her shoulders so he can put the star on the top of the tree. Yi wonders what her son will be doing this time next year.

*

“Oh my god, I don’t need the net!”

Wrath crosses her arms and scowls. “Until you can make it across the tightrope and back, you’re not using the bike without it.”

From her place on the ground, Yi groans. This is an argument Wrath and Onyx have been having for a week straight. Onyx has gotten good at basic BMX tricks while on the ground—at least, as well as she can do when Yi can’t hop on the bike and actually show her what to do—she understands where Wrath is coming from. 

Onyx bristles. “You know I do my best work under pressure! Take the net away and I can do a fucking flip!”

“I’m not risking my tightrope walker and envy assassin on a BMX trick when a net is available.” 

Alright, I’m done listening to this. “If you guys can’t stop arguing, you don’t get pieces of the yule log I’m making tonight.”

The threat works, and Onyx agrees to use the net for practice.

*

It’s hard to assemble gifts for the troupe simply because she rarely leaves the penthouse by herself anymore.

She has to get them gradually. She only gets one gift per trip, and never a gift for the person escorting her. When Wrath takes her out, she buys Onyx a gift, for example. It’s a slow process, but the one-by-one increase in wrapped gifts under the huge tree is very satisfying to watch.

Today she’s out with Malakai, trying to find the perfect gift for Wrath and looking for any other baby things she may need that she hasn’t gotten yet. It’s fun to look at baby clothes and toys, and Malakai’s excitement just feeds hers. “This matches the purple perfectly!” he says, holding up a soft blanket with an elephant head on the back of it.

It is cute, but… “We already have, like, ten blankets for the nursery. I think that’s already kinda overkill.”

Malakai looks disappointed but puts it back. “Why are we in the baby section if you’re not going to buy anything for the baby?”

“I’m getting antsy, I guess.” Her hand falls to her stomach. She can feel the baby moving around. “I don’t want to not have something we need when the baby gets here, because I’m sure I’ll be too tired to run out and get it.”

“Hey, it’s not like you’re gonna be doing this alone. You’ll have Darius and all of us.”

“I know.” She leans against his shoulder for the solid weight of it. “Can we find somewhere to sit down? My feet are killing me.”

Malakai frowns in concern. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“We’ll get kicked out if you do that. I just need to sit, I promise.”

“If I see you getting tired, I will carry you, even if it means us getting kicked out.”

“Ugh, you’re annoying.”

“Like any good brother is.”

They find a bench in the store and sit down. From the way Malakai is looking at her feet, he’d be rubbing them if it wouldn’t draw unwanted attention. “I still don’t know what to get Darius for Christmas,” she says.

Malakai laughs. “I mean, you’re literally growing his baby. That’s a pretty good present.”

Yi smacks his shoulder. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Just buy him a corny dad mug or something. You know, like in those pregnancy reveal videos people are doing now.”

She gives a pointed look down at her belly and then back  up at Malakai. “I don’t think he’ll need a hint.”

*

It’s another Sunday mid-morning, about a week and some change before Christmas, and Yi is watching the pot of boiling oil carefully to make sure she doesn’t overcook the crullers (the only way she can convince Avi to eat congee) when she hears the elevator to the penthouse open. This is, of course, odd, since the troupe is still asleep and Avi is—or was—reading aloud from a picture book at the kitchen island while she cooks, like he does most mornings.

For one awful moment, she thinks it’s Kozholok, here to, fuck, take her hostage? Use her as bait to catch Darius? He’s still being quiet but who knows when he could actually strike?

But then she hears Avi gasp and jump off the stool. She turns, slowly, and her breath catches in her throat at the sight of a devastatingly handsome man with tan skin and windblown brown hair standing in the living room. His dark eyes dart down to her round belly and then back to her face. His jaw drops.

Avi doesn’t care about whatever inner turmoil he’s going through. He just barrels at him and latches onto his knees.

“Darius! You’re home!”

[hookedonapirate]

The Princess and Her Sultan

Summary: Crown princess Emma of Misthaven is second in line to the throne, her brother Leopold ll being the first, but her parents see her with a future as a great ruler. King Rumpelstiltskin of neighboring land, strikes a deal with King David, promising to uphold the peace between the kingdoms if Emma marries Prince Baelfire. With the promise of his daughter becoming future queen of the Dark Kingdom, David accepts reluctantly.

Before her wedding day, the princess is kidnapped and taken overseas. She is sold as a slave to a palace where Crown Prince Killian of Neverland ascends his father’s throne and is sworn in as Sultan. Meanwhile, Killian’s mother pressures him to sire a prince and presents him with gifts for his birthday, one of them including a blonde princess from Misthaven. Dazzled by Emma’s charm, intelligence and beauty, he summons her to his bedchambers every night and eventually finds himself casting aside his harem and centuries of tradition.  

A/N: We're back and we'll be moving along a little more quickly and getting closer to resolving things I know some you are anxious to see resolved. This chapter is just the beginning of that process. I'm excited to post this chapter, and all I have to say is not everything is as it seems, unless I've made it too obvious, then it's exactly as it seems. Ya'll just need to trust me, okay?

Thank you @gingerchangeling for your wonderful suggestions and ideas for this story, and also @ilovemesomekillianjones for gifting me with your wonderful editing skills at. I also want to give a shout out to @onceuponaprincessworld for being my sounding board, constant cheerleader and good friend, thank you, darling! This story wouldn’t be the same without these lovely ladies!

And all of you have been so supportive and awesome, thank you all for following along and for your feedback!

Rated: Explicit

AO3 l FF.N I Prologue l Ch 1 l Ch 2 l Ch 3 l Ch 4 l Ch 5 l  Ch 6 l  Ch 7 l Ch 8 l Ch 9 I BTS

“How was your night with the maiden Emma, Your Majesty?”

 Killian looks up at James from their chess game. He must have noticed Killian’s big smile has been cemented on his face since the moment he left his precious swan. “It was…” He’s uncertain how to describe his night with her in words. It was easily the best night of his life and he wishes he could revisit it repeatedly. His grin widens, and he stares wistfully at James as he awaits an answer. “It was magnificent,” Killian finally answers, but it’s an understatement. “Being inside her, being with her is like being in paradise.”

 James shifts uneasily, his features contorting as he clears his throat and picks up a game piece, considering his next move on the board. “I’m glad to hear, Your Majesty.” He smiles, but Killian can tell it’s a bit contrived. 

 He studies his friend suspiciously. “What is it?”

 James’ eyes widen at the question as he meets Killian’s gaze. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just—I have some news to share with you. But I didn’t know if I should wait and tell you or not. I didn’t want to pull you down from your cloud of bliss.”

 Killian raises a brow at him, his smile fading as he waves his hand for James to speak. “Please tell me.”

 A grin takes over James’ face, and this time it’s more natural than before. “Your Majesty, Ruby is with child.”

 Killian’s lips pull into a smile again, a smile that lights up his entire face, and he stands from his seat, walking around the chess table. James takes his cue and stands, letting Killian pull him into a hug. “Congratulations to the both of you.”

 “Thank you, Your Majesty. The baby will be born in May.”

 Killian is elated by the news as they pull away from the hug. He is happy James is starting a family. He only wants the best for his friend. In fact, he has made a decision regarding James’ future. James has been loyal for a long time, so Killian has a promotion in mind for his friend and confidant.

 Killian fears if he were to leave the world too soon, his half brother, Declan, would swoop in to seize the throne. His throne will always be threatened as long as Declan is alive. If Killian were unable to defend his throne, even if he had sired a son, his Grand Vizier would take over his role and guide the prince before he is old enough to take over the duties of the empire. Gepetto, the current Grand Vizier has also been very loyal, but he is very old and does not stand a chance against a threat to the throne. He will retire soon, so Killian has to choose a strong leader who will protect his future son and guide him before he can take over the duties as Sultan. The rest of Killian’s viziers are all new, for he had banished all of his father’s men. They were corrupt and could not be trusted. Killian has turned over many rocks since taking over the throne and unearthed many secrets of his father’s that have proved to Killian once again, his father was not a good man.

 No, there is only one man Killian trusts above all, and that man is James. He will make him Grand Vizier. 

 ~*~

 The next several weeks are a pleasant blur for Emma. The Sultan summons her every night and only her. She happily complies, and most nights, they are both wrapped up in a passionate embrace and left breathless, picking up the shattered pieces of themselves. They’ve made love on every surface possible in his bedchamber; they’ve made love on the divan, on his desk, the floor and the low table by his bed. They’ve also made it past the terrace and made love in the garden, and one night they snuck off to the pool and made love in the water. They’ve only been caught twice by some servants who immediately scurried away, blushing profusely when they saw Emma and Killian naked and consumed in the thrall of their passion.

 The physical aspect of their relationship certainly isn’t lacking anything. Both are always left completely satisfied and content afterward, but they also spend much of their time engaged in chess, simple conversation and getting to know one another. They talk about their pasts and the people close to them. Emma shares details about her friendship with Elsa and tells him how close they’ve become since they arrived at the palace. Killian talks about James a lot and how they became friends. He was sold to the Jewel of the Realm when Killian was young, and since then they’ve stuck together through some very dark times. 

 The Sultan also tells her how James got the scar on his cheek. A lonely old widow owned James after he was taken from his family, and she’s the one who took a knife to his cheek when he wouldn’t obey a command. Emma feels terrible for what her uncle went through, but she is glad Killian has found a friend in him and treats him well. He talks about the adventures they’ve had, but she can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if James were never taken and remained in Misthaven. Would he have been king? Would he and David get along?

 She wants to tell Killian that James is her uncle but she’s conflicted. She’s not sure what the Sultan will do. Will he be mad and banish one of them from the palace, or will he be understanding about it? Emma likes to think he would only be happy about this knowledge, but she doesn’t wish for anything to happen to James if it angered Killian. So she keeps her relationship with him to herself, at least for the time being.

 Killian tells her frequently how she casts a light over his darkness, and she doesn’t wish to be the cause of that darkness. She doesn’t want what they have to change. 

 Every single time they’re together, he treats her with courtesy and compassion; he respects her opinions, her mind, her body and he completely adores her. When the day wears him down, she can flip his mood around with only her presence. She can ease his mind with a kiss or excite him with her dancing. She brings a smile to his face with her laughter, soothes his soul with her wisdom and his body with her hands. 

 Killian expresses to her on various occasions that not only is she his lover but also his friend. Her heart always warms at the sentiment. The Sultan doesn’t confide in many people or look to them for advice, except for James, but Killian enjoys reaching out to Emma about court politics since he knows she is shrewd beyond her years with experience and has an innate grasp of the intricacies of these matters. She’s also not afraid to call him out when he is wrong about something. Nor does he feel threatened or angered by her for doing so. In fact, he finds it rather refreshing and is quite open to it. He isn’t ashamed to go to a woman for advice. 

 She has opened a brand new world to him, just as he has done for her. 

 He also isn’t ashamed to join the maidens of his harem for dinner to get to know them. This is unheard of in Neverland society, but after the initial surprise, the women are accepting of it (apart from Merida, who remains dubious of him). And this way, they don’t feel left out, even though Emma is the only one he calls to his bed. He grows quite fond of Elsa, just as Emma has, and she can’t help but worry about the Sultan calling on her next. It frightens Emma to her core, no matter how much she tries to accept this possibility.

 The Neverland nights grow colder and November quickly arrives, but Emma’s blood never appears. She thinks nothing of it until one morning when she wakes up feeling ill. She carefully sneaks out of the Sultan’s bed while he sleeps, and looks at her reflection in the mirror. She notices immediately how pale she is and doesn’t wish for Killian to see her like this. Though he’s seen her in worse conditions, she doesn’t want him to worry. She softly knocks on the door, so as not to wake him, and Nemo escorts Emma to her suite and sends for the doctor.

 When Emma finds out she is with child, she is full of emotions. She’s overjoyed but also sad. She doesn’t want her time with the Sultan to end. She loves him too much. She loves him so much it hurts. A tear slides down her cheek, even as Elsa is clapping her hands in excitement. 

 “Emma, aren’t you happy? You will soon be the Master’s Kadin.”

 “I am happy, but what if Merida is right? What if the Sultan tosses me aside when he finds out?” Emma’s heart tightens at the thought, tears pricking her eyes. “I’m not sure I can handle it!” Emma cries for the first time she has been to the palace. “I love him, Elsa, I cannot bear him to take another maiden.” Her heart stings as the truth comes rushing to the surface, tears falling down her cheeks. 

 “Oh, Emma…” Elsa scoops her up into her arms, letting Emma cry into her shoulder. Elsa holds her tightly, whispering soft words of reassurance, taking some of the burden off of Emma’s shoulders.

 Maybe it’s her emotions from being pregnant or maybe she has concluded she cannot accept the Sultan, her Sultan may take another to his bed. It feels like an act of betrayal. It feels worse than Graham’s betrayal. 

 That evening before Emma is to go to Killian, his mother invites her and Elsa to her suite to celebrate Emma’s pregnancy. She’s a bit surprised, to say the least as they enter Kira’s suite. She and Elsa are dressed in their best clothes, Emma is wearing one of the outfits and the jewelry Killian had given her. The pelisse Emma is wearing hides the small swell of her belly as she rests her hand there. 

 She’s not very far along, but she already feels protective of her baby. And truthfully, she doesn’t care if the tiny human growing inside her is a boy or a girl. She will love her child either way. She hopes Killian will too; she has a feeling he will, by the way he had spoken of having children. He wants a family, not barbaric sons who will rival for the throne, so it makes no difference if their child is a boy or a girl. 

 Emma will become Kadin, and if she has a daughter, her position will remain intact for the time being. She has no doubt she will retain his favor once she has a boy, but that doesn’t mean Kira or someone else won’t try to convince him otherwise. Kira sent Nemo to acquire four wives for Killian, not one, so Emma knows his mother will not rest until she has four grandsons from four different mothers so Emma cannot influence the Sultan. The more power Emma has, the more Kira will feel threatened. 

 Emma is not exactly sure what to expect by accepting Kira’s invitation, but when she sees her, the woman’s eyes light up and she opens her arms. “Come and sit beside me, my dear daughter.”

 Emma swallows thickly as she and Elsa make their way over. Regina is on the other side of Kira, her eyes shooting invisible daggers at Emma. She guesses Regina doesn’t like anyone competing for her mother’s affections.

 Kira kisses Emma’s cheek, cupping her face in her hands, saying prayers to the soon to be mother and her child. “I am delighted with your news. May the child be strong and healthy.” The woman gazes at Emma in admiration, a vast contrast to how she has treated her before.

 Emma bows her head. “Thank you, my Sultana.”

 They gather around on cushions at a low table, laid with sherbert, melons and sweet desserts. 

 “Have you told my son he is to be a father?”

 Emma shakes her head. “No, I have not, my Sultana. But he has summoned me for this night, so I will tell him when I go to him.”

 Kira nods in approval. “Very well. The news will overjoy him.” She gestures to her maids. “My daughter, I have some gifts for you.”

 The maids present her with many beautiful fabrics.

 “I will make the fabrics of your choice into maternity clothes, for when you grow big with child.”

 Emma smiles weakly when she looks over them. 

 When she is big and lonely and the sultan has another maiden to bring him pleasure.

 Kira must sense Emma’s sadness as she studies her in concern. She gently takes Emma’s chin in her hand, urging her to lift her eyes. “Do not worry, my daughter, Killian may summon you no more after tonight, but you have motherhood to look forward to, and that is more important. And if you have a girl, you may return to his bed.”

 Regina scoffs before taking a sip of her sherbert.

 Kira scowls at her. “Is there a problem, Regina?”

 “Why must you console her? Not long ago she was breaking the rules and rightfully thrown in the dungeon. She is a mere slave. Now, she has my brother and you wrapped around her dainty little finger. She hasn’t even had the baby yet, and you treat her as though she is your real daughter.”

 Kira becomes outraged by Regina’s words. “How dare you speak to me like that? You may be my daughter, but you do not have the right. Emma is your brother’s Kadin now, so you are to treat her as such.”

 Emma is shocked Kira is speaking up for her.

 “She is not his Kadin yet. I hope she is poisoned like Milah was.”

 With those words, Regina rises and storms out of the room.

 Kira and Elsa are mortified. Emma is mortified.

 “Please excuse my daughter, she has apparently misplaced her manners.”

 Kira stands up and follows after Regina.

 “Wow. Regina does not like you,” Elsa says to Emma quietly. “Maybe she feels threatened by you?”

 Emma shrugs, fear rippling through her, but she maintains a casual demeanor. Now that Emma will be Kadin, she will have new enemies and must watch her back at every turn so she doesn’t end up like Milah.

 A few minutes later, Kira returns and sighs as she reclaims her seat next to Emma. “Please do not mind my brat of a daughter. She did not mean what she said.”

 Emma knows she did, though.

 “She is just bitter, that’s all. She had a husband many years ago.”

 Emma lifts a brow and turns to look at Kira. “What happened to him, if you don’t mind me asking, my Sultana?”

 “He became very ill and died. Regina was with child, but she lost the baby. The doctors say she can never carry a child to term.”

 “Oh,” Emma says faintly.

 “It doesn’t excuse her for misbehaving, though. She doesn’t like any concubines who rise through the ranks. She feels threatened by them. She can never be Sultan, and any wife of Killian’s will have more power than her. And she cannot stomach the idea.”

 “Oh, I see.”

 “You must not worry, my child.” Kira takes Emma’s hand in hers. “My son will purchase the best taste testers and personal bodyguards there are and we will take extra precautions in the palace. I am the one who encouraged my son to sire a child, so it is my duty to make sure that happens. We must protect your son or daughter at all costs.”

 Emma nods, but somehow she doesn’t feel comforted by those words.

 “Now go to my son and tell him. You will have this last night with him.”

 Emma’s eyes prick with tears as she manages a nod. “Yes, my Sultana.”

 ~*~

 Emma goes to Killian with a swarm of emotions rushing through her. She doesn’t know exactly how this evening will go. He will be delighted with the news of course, but what will happen after tonight? She has no idea, and that scares the hell out of her. She slowly exhales as the doors open and she steps inside Killian’s bedchamber. He is waiting for her at his desk. His eyes brighten when he sees her, a big smile overtaking his face. 

 He stands and strides over to her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. Her heart fills with warmth as she feels his soft lips on her skin. “I’ve missed you, my love. When I woke, you were not in my arms or my bed. Are you alright?”

 Emma nods and offers a small smile. “Yes, I’m fine. I was only feeling under the weather.” She debates about whether she should tell him now or later. But she deems it better to rip the bandaid off now, rather than let a million questions she has, linger inside her. She takes his hand and moves his open palm to her belly as she maintains eye contact with him. “I am with child, my Sultan.”

 Killian’s eyes widen, his sparkling blue depths pooling with emotion. He peers down at her belly and drops to his knees, pushing her skirts away until her stomach is bare. “Emma,” he whispers against her skin, his lips and hands caressing her belly. “My little love.” He moves his hands to her hips and makes a trail of sweet kisses down her slightly protruding belly. Emma closes her eyes, enjoying the way his lips feel on her skin, so soft and warm. This isn’t supposed to feel erotic, this is supposed to be a beautiful moment between a father and his unborn child, but Emma feels a stir of desire for him. She can’t help it. Killian is good and gentle and loving. Being with him makes her rethink everything in life. 

 Killian’s hands move up her sides as he continues to kiss her belly, and Emma runs her hands through his hair, enjoying his gentle words as he whispers sweet nothings to her stomach. When he rises, she can see the love he has for her in his eyes. The love he has for them. She doesn’t want that love to fade; she doesn’t want what they have to end. 

 She wants to capture this moment forever. She wants to capture all of his kisses and touches and sweet words forever. She never wants to lose the affection he has for her. She basks in these moments of happiness, for she does not know when she will lose them.

 Emma’s not sure if it’s her pregnancy hormones or the depth of her love for him that overflows her body with emotions, but the thought of losing him overwhelms her completely, and she weeps. 

 Killian’s expression clouds with concern and genuine worry as he cups her cheek in his hand, using this thumb to wipe away her tears. “What is wrong, my love?”

 Emma shakes her head. She can’t possibly tell him what troubles her. She can’t be so selfish. She feels so foolish and stupid for crying. She wants the father of her child to be happy and if that means he must take another woman to his bed then she must accept this.

 “Please tell me, heart of my heart.” His voice cracks with worry. “Has someone hurt you or threatened you?” 

 Emma can see the storm brewing in his eyes at the prospect of this.

 “I will kill whoever lays a hand on you or threatens the life our wee one.”

 She can hear the protectiveness in his voice. Is this really a man who wants to be with anyone else?

 Emma shakes her head and wipes the rest of her tears away. “No, my Sultan. Nothing like that. I’m only sad because this may be our last night together.”

 His brows knit in confusion. “What makes you believe such a thing?”

 Emma sniffles and shakes her head again. “Because I’m with child. Custom demands a man no longer take a woman to bed once she’s pregnant, as it may risk hurting the baby.”

 Killian nods and lifts her hands to his lips, pressing soft kisses to her knuckles. He sighs sharply, deep in thought.

 Emma braces herself. It’s the moment of truth.

 After a moment, a small smile curves his lips as he gazes into her eyes. “My love, just because we cannot make love doesn’t mean we can’t find other pleasures with each other in other ways. Merely holding you and our child in my arms is all the pleasure I will ever need.”

 Emma lifts her eyes to his, completely stunned by his words, relief washing over her. “Truly?”

 “Truly.” He kisses her forehead as a grave expression takes over his features, his quivering breath fanning her skin. “I shudder in repulsion at the thought of taking another woman to my bed. They would not be you. Not even close.” He holds her tightly in his arms, resting his forehead against hers. She can feel the emotions bubbling inside him. She can hear them in his voice. “The thought of being with anyone else hurts like the worst level of hell. The thought of betraying you or bringing you pain hurts like hell.”

 Emma’s heart explodes with happiness upon hearing his words. Tears of a different kind sprint to her eyes and a grin blooms across her lips. 

 “I love you, Emma.” He moves his hand to her belly, caressing her skin again. “I love both of you. I will never love another woman unless that woman is our daughter.”

 Emma wants to capture those words and keep them forever. “I love you too, Killian.” It’s the first time they’ve ever exchanged these words to one another. 

 Killian smiles and kisses her lips, both of them sighing in utter relief. “But what will the people of the palace think?” she has to ask. She doesn’t wish to ruin his reputation or how the people of the capital look at him. 

 He thinks about her question a moment before pulling away and answering. “Emma, do you trust me?”

 She nods confidently. “With all my heart.”

 “Then trust me when I say I have a plan that I think will appease everyone in the palace.”

 “I trust you, Killian. Whatever happens, I trust you. ”

 Killian smiles and wraps his arms around her and captures her lips. He kisses her breathlessly and lifts her up, carrying her to the bed. They have one last night of passion before they can no longer engage in lovemaking while she is carrying their unborn child. But it’s certainly a night to remember, full of soft kisses and caresses, full of Killian stroking her belly and speaking to their baby. 

 Afterward, they’re breathless and panting, trying to reassemble themselves. Emma nuzzles her cheek into his chest and takes his hand, placing it over her belly as they lay there naked. She’s not showing very much, yet they both love their baby with everything they have, already. Emma can see he does in the way he gazes at her belly, she sees it in the way he touches her there, the way he kisses her there. 

 Killian tells her he will leave in the morning to personally find an expert taste tester and two bodyguards. “I will make sure no harm ever comes to you or our baby. I would rather die than let anything happen to either of you.” 

 Emma’s heart flutters at his words as he holds her and tells her everything will be okay. She lifts her head and captures his lips. 

 ~*~

 “I will miss you, my Sultan.”

 Killian smiles and draws Emma into his arms, kissing her deeply. He kisses her like he’s never kissed anyone before. He kisses her like this is his last day on earth. He strokes her belly while their lips are still connected. He wants to capture this moment and hold it inside his heart forever. They break for air, his hand still on her belly through her clothes, his forehead resting on hers. “I will return soon, my love,” he breathes, his voice shattered and wrecked. 

 Emma licks her lips and nods. “I will be waiting most patiently, my Sultan.”

 He caresses her hair and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, beloved queen of my heart.”

 Emma smiles, her cheeks filling with blush. “I love you, too.” She rubs her belly. “We both love you.”

 He doesn’t know if her pregnancy has made her more lovely or if her beauty simply magnifies with every passing day, but he swears she is even more exquisite than the day he met her, and that’s certainly saying something.

 He has to wrench himself away from her and looks at James. “Guard my precious treasures, will you James?”

 He nods. “With my life, Your Majesty.”

 Killian’s concierge is the only uncastrated man he trusts with Emma. He can see the love James has for Emma, but it’s much different than what Killian feels for her. Emma’s only been to the palace for a handful of months, but James already sees her as family. Killian feels completely secure leaving his wife and child with him.

 He kisses his beloved and her belly once more, whispering to his little prince or princess how much he loves them already. He pulls away from them and mounts his horse, smiling at Emma from his saddle. Even though he will not be gone for long, he will still miss her and their baby terribly.

 Emma’s eyes are warm, full of love as she rests one hand on her belly and waves at him with the other. “Return to us soon, my Sultan.”

 He nods and winks at her as he turns the horse around and gallops off, his escort of lost boys following behind him.

 Emma and James watch her Sultan off as he wraps an arm around her shoulder and kisses her temple. “Congratulations, my niece.”

 “Congratulations to you,” she says, smiling at him. “I heard you and Ruby are expecting.”

 He grins as they turn around and head back inside the palace.

 “Perhaps our children will be good friends.”

 Emma nods, but he can tell her mind is running nonstop as she looks at him. “We should tell him, James.”

 He nods and looks ahead as they walk. “We will, my niece. You will remain here at the palace no matter what, now that you’re pregnant with the Sultan’s child. Nothing will happen to you, but we know not what will happen to me when he finds out. So, after I meet my son or daughter, we will tell him, I promise. We will tell him.”

 ~*~

 Killian returns to the palace two days later with the things he’d promised. He brings Emma two castrated bodyguards, an expert taste tester who was highly recommended to him and a slave who has already proven her loyalty. She will help Emma by making sure she has everything she needs to feel comfortable throughout her pregnancy.

 The taster teaches Emma a few tricks and gives her a potion that will make her and the baby immune from any poison she digests if it comes to that. No one knows this though, except for Killian, Emma and the taster.

 There is only one more thing left for Killian to do to ensure Emma’s and their child’s safety. He’s thought about this over and over during his trip to retrieve Emma’s gifts. He’d meant what he’d said to Emma; he can only stomach the idea of being with her, but perhaps it’s better if not everyone knew of this. Everyone expects him to take several wives, in fact, anything less would be unacceptable, to his mother and to everyone. They will tell him being with one woman is unhealthy. They will tell him he will be left feeling deprived. Unsatisfied. They will tell him if he only has one woman, that woman will let the power go to her head. They will tell him she is only trying to control him. 

 Perhaps it’s better if everyone is oblivious to the fact that Killian only wants one woman. One wife. One mother to bear his children. He only wants Emma and that will not change, no matter how long they cannot make love.

 He needs to keep Emma and their baby safe and also keep people from interfering with his life. Perhaps he can do both simultaneously. 

 Perhaps he can kill two birds with one stone. 

 And he has just the plan that will hopefully accomplish that.

 ~*~

 The next evening, Emma and Elsa are chatting pleasantly on the couch when Nemo enters Emma’s suite. Both women turn to look at him.

 “Elsa,” he begins, bowing his head. “Our Master summons you to his chamber.”

 Elsa’s face pales as she glances at Emma and then at Nemo again. “What?”

 “The Sultan requests your presence this night at the ninth hour.”

 “But, I cannot possibly…”

 Fear strikes him, for no one refuses the Sultan without grave consequences. “You defy the Sultan’s orders?”

 She looks at Emma, studying her reaction. “Emma, I am so sorry, I do not want this,” she whispers. “You are my friend. I never wish to betray you.”

 Emma offers a confident smile and takes Elsa’s hands in hers. “You must go to him, Elsa. I will escort you this evening.”

 Elsa’s face washes over with shock and bewilderment. “You are not upset?”

 Emma shakes her head. “No, if he is to choose anyone else, I want it to be you. Besides, we made a promise, remember? We will remain friends no matter what happens, right?”

 Elsa nods. “Yes, of course.” She looks relieved, but still unhappy about this, her loyalty to Emma shining through. It only makes all of this easier.

 “Now you must go and get ready for our Sultan,” Emma tells her.

 Elsa studies her friend one more time to make sure Emma is sure about this. 

 Emma is sure. 

 Elsa stands and goes to Nemo as he escorts her to her room. Emma doesn’t know exactly what Killian is up to, but she has complete faith in him. She places her hands on her protruding belly from her spot on the couch. “Don’t worry, baby, our Sultan loves both of us very much,” she whispers, peering down at her stomach. “He will take good care of us.” 

 She stands up and leaves her room to meet Elsa when it’s time to escort her to the baths, not a shred of worry in her mind or her heart.

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @teamhook @onceuponaprincessworld @nikkiemms @followbatb @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @snowbellewells @artistic-writer @ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @lovepurplepumpkins @kiwistreetswan @therooksshiningknight @deathbycaptainswan @tiganasummertree @superchocovian @emeraldwitches

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 31

LISTEN TO ME — 0031

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 3.3K

(a/n: ohhh, i’m finally back with another chapter, yeah? enjoy guys!)

                               [Approximately two months later]

It was quite valid to say that, after several long days with Choi Jinah, Han Jisung had become another person, and all in such a dynamic way that the boy, even in his best dreams, imagined that he was capable.

They still hadn't taken any steps, nothing beyond the kisses exchanged at all times and the walks on weekends — unless, of course, the fact that Jinah turned out to be a pervert in the last days (this from Jisung's point of view, who thought it absurd for the girl to let her perverted personality pop out so suddenly, but it was not like he was in a condition to complain about anything at all). In addition, nothing very surprising happened in the meantime. Jinah's disturbed ex-boyfriend was seen only once, but she just ignored. As for Jisung, it was no longer so uncomfortable to meet Chaerin and Seungmin together, although Han's feelings had turned into a ball for a few weeks, but the reason for the mess inside his heart wasn't only due to Kwon. Anyway, it was complicated, although Hwang Hyunjin was showing himself to be a good therapist in his spare time, as at this time.

"You two are what, anyway?" — Hwang asked as they sat at one of the empty cafeteria room tables. The break hadn't yet begun, but their class was so boring that it seemed telepathy that they had decided to leave the room at the same time. — "It's no use telling me that it's friends with benefits, because I won't believe it like the last time" — Hyunjin always stood with one foot behind, wondering if he was being fooled so that the story would repeat again and he'd be one of the last to know something important. One of the biggest contributors to his mistrust was the episode about three weeks ago, when Jisung said that Jinah and he were nothing more than friends with benefits — such an old term! ─ and suddenly they were having a crisis of mutual jealousy. It's okay that Jisung didn't like the way a boy from the Pedagogy class looked at Jinah, and it's okay that Jinah didn't like the way one of the girls in her class got all happy when she was in the same room as Jisung, but, if one thing Hyunjin was sure, was that friends with benefits didn't work that way. It was more for real couple, Hwang could write a college article about it.

"I don't know" — with a shrug and a small smile on his lips, Han replied quietly. — "Since you don't accept the term which, to me, seems appropriate as an answer, I really don't know."

"But, Jisung, it's wrong" — Hyunjin raised his hands and began to list the next items on his fingers. — "You two kiss so much that I don't know how you still have mouths; you go out together almost always; are always messaging and calling each other; you two embrace in public very often; feel jealous; share the same circle of friends after so much coexistence; the two are always with those idiot smiles in the face day and night and, finally, you admitted to me that you're in love with her without me needing to make psychological pressure. If this isn't a couple relationship, I'll resign from this life."

The last item wasn't intentional, Jisung just thought a little too loud. But no one could blame him for falling in love with Jinah, since being able to do otherwise was practically impossible.

There was no way not to fall in love with Jinah, it was unfeasible, unlikely.

"And there's that subject too," — Hyunjin added, now in a lower voice. — "Look, if you admit it too and keep insisting on that indefiniteness, I swear I'm going to be ignorant with both."

"I don't know if I can admit that subject, it's still very confusing... It's early too."

"And since when do these things have a right time?" — Hyunjin asked rhetorically. — "You should be thanking for being so lucky for all this to be reciprocal."

Jisung quickly looked up from the bottle of natural juice that rested beside his phone: — "How do you know that part is reciprocal?"

Hyunjin was caught in the jump and couldn't even turn away from the answer as it sat down in front of him about two seconds later: — "Ask her."

"Ask what?" — Jade's voice was slightly hoarse, denouncing that she had slept during the slide show.

"So are you accomplices?" — Jisung folded his arms, casting an indignant glare at them. — "I thought they would gather to talk productive things, not gossip about your friends."

"But who said it isn't productive?" — the american defended herself. — "Since you two don't talk about it, it's up to other people to do that."

You couldn't even have privacy in your personal life, it was unbelievable.

"And what do you guys know about Jinah that I don't know?"

"Now you're forcing the friendship" — Jade chuckled, refusing to talk about her best friend's confessions. The break signal was triggered at this point, but the distraction didn't stop Jisung from being even more indignant.

"But you told Hyunjin and vice versa!"

"It's different," — Hwang interjected. — "We"— he pointed to Jade and himself — "are mere spectators and friends of the two. If we tell you it's not going to be fun anymore, even though I've already given you lots of spoilers and you're extremely slow because you still didn't understand."

Jisung was thoughtful. One side of him only had to pop the cork from a bottle of champagne, but the other was still unsure. In the rhythm that things were happening, it was better that he resolved his inner conflicts sooner rather than get in the way and complicate matters. He had the mental debates interrupted, however, when he felt a pair of warm arms embrace him in the back as a delicate chin was supported on his shoulder. The smell of peach caught his nose quickly.

"You should wear these glasses more often," — Jinah commented, then sat down next to the boy. — "It makes you look smart, it's not often that it happens."

"And you should shut up before I leave you without teeth."

"How beautiful this relationship" — Woojin laughed and sat on the other side, being accompanied by the new pair of best friends, Chan and Felix, next to Changbin and Yoorim. — "Changing the subject, are you guys going to Yugyeom's party, on Saturday?"

"What party?" — asked Changbin and, judging by the same questioning expression that the rest of them had, he assumed that no one there had been invited.

"I didn't tell you guys?" — Woojin asked back, not getting anything more than negative swings of heads. — "I forgot... Anyway, he asked me to invite everyone, it's a surprise party for his girlfriend."

"But surprise party shouldn't be something intimate, only with important people?" — Felix asked, frowning.

"The more people, the more gifts. You need to wake up to capitalism, my son."

"Where is it going to be?" — Yoorim wanted to know, struggling to remember who Yugyeom was, for she didn't even know that.

"At his house, at nine. It's in Gangnam, then I'll give you the address."

Jade wrinkled her nose: — "Didn't he have a less modest place?" — she joked, emphasizing her displeasure at attending a major event in one of the wealthiest parts of the city. It wasn't a matter of pride, the american, just like Jinah, just didn't feel right through so much luxury and futile people.

"Don't start, Jadey, it'll be cool," — Woojin countered. — "Everyone has confirmed presence, it's not just high society people who will be there."

"Okay, but is it my budget enough to buy a souvenir that, in Sana's case, mustn't be less than a swarovski ring?" — said Chan, sounding falsely thoughtful.

"Do I have to wear an expensive dress?" — Jinah asked.

"No, guys, no" — Woojin put both hands to his head, indignant at how difficult his friends were to understand. He usually had a lot of happiness when it came to persuading people, but it was getting complicated. — "You don't have to wear expensive dresses or buy swarovski rings, it's a normal party with the same normal people you're used to seeing around here everyday."

"We're going," — Hyunjin said, also speaking for Yoorim, who just shrugged. — "But mostly because of Sana, she's nice."

"I think I'm going too," — Felix added, though he had no idea who the girl in question was. He only liked quality food and drink. — "I'll lend you the clothes you said you liked, Chan hyung."

"But I didn't even tell if I'm going..." the australian replied quietly.

"Of course you're going! It's your duty as a best friend to accompany me to places."

"Pleeease," — Woojin clasped his hands in a pleading gesture and wore an expression that looked like a child who wanted candy. Chan rolled his eyes.

"Okay, just don't make me regret it."

Felixcheered as Woojin's eyes flew to the last two remaining couples: — "Jinah?" — he started with the most malleable of the four. Choi stared at Jisung and found herself obliged to ask a question before making any decision.

"You want to go?"

"Do you?" — Han returned it.

"It's up to you."

Finally, Jisung also shrugged and Woojin already faced that simple gesture as the answer he craved, then focusing on the last and most difficult problem that was Changbin and Jade.

"You're not going to do that, are you?" — he began to do emotional blackmail. — "Not accepting isn't cool."

And unlike the imagining, the couple exchanged a look that showed how much they had already surrendered, after all, neither of them was strong enough to deal with Woojin's too much insistence, for they both knew that if they said no, it was likely that Kim made them angry for the rest of the day.

"All right," — Changbin answered. — "But I make Chan's words mine"

"You won't regret it, I assure you" — Woojin had a big smile on his face, which incited Yoorim's curiosity.

"Why do our presence seem so important to you? You never needed any of us to leave the house."

"Girl, you offend me" — Kim's smile was replaced by an insulted expression. — "Can't I want my friends together anymore?"

"But this is not you, oppa, it's wrong."

As Woojin tried to make Yoorim understand that he was only trying to be kinder and more careful with the people he liked, there started a debate involving Hyunjin and the others, Changbin watched the problem approach the table with a stupid smile on his face — smile that he wanted to break. Months could go by and he'd still continue to harbor rancidness through Josh's face, it was utterly and absolutely unavoidable. And as if that weren't enough, the reason for his usual stress was studying Biomedicine, as well as Hyunjin, what resulted in his closeness to the group both because of the ties he had with Jade and the friendship he developed with Hwang. In short, seeing him around was becoming something more common than Changbin would like.

"Hyung, I got the apostille," — Josh said as he stood by Hyunjin's side, extending the bound that Hwang had been needing so much in recent days to do some notes related to the subject of Epidemiology. — "You can keep it until the day of the seminar, I've already got what I need."

"Okay, thank you" — Hyunjin smiled and started flipping through the pages. — "Maybe my grade will change from zero to two and a half, I'm happy."

Josh smiled as well, guiding his gaze to where Jade was sitting. Automatically — just as every time that encounter happened — the american intertwined her fingers with Changbin's under the table.

"Are you going to Yugyeom's party, Jade?" — he asked in an average voice, trying to see if Sana wasn't around.

"Yes, we were just talking about that" — Jade opened a smile that Changbin found unnecessarily gorgeous to send to someone as irritating as Josh. — "Are you going?"

"I'm going, yeah. See you there."

"See you there my ass," — Seo muttered, almost inaudibly, but it was enough to snatch a chuckle from Jinah. "What? You wouldn't like it if it was with you, too."

"But I didn't say anything," — Choi defended herself, though an amused smile was present on her lips. Changbin huffed, both for his friend's attitude and for the discomfort of the situation. The taste of jealousy was, definitely, the most bitter one he had ever had the pleasure of tasting. For a while.

                                  ♡˖°

That same day, Jinah and Jisung took advantage of the fact that they had been released from work earlier and decided to hold their usual late-afternoon gathering at the girl's house.

Maybe it was routine fatigue or any mood swings that were making them talk about the guinea pig promotional prices during the elevator ride to the apartment, something that could be considered a totally random subject that wouldno' add anything too much in their lives, but the important thing was that they were at peace, otherwise, cute little pets would never become main characters in their dialogues.

"I thought you liked cats more," — Jisung said, waiting for Jinah to turn the key in the lock and unlock the door.

"And I do, but little guinea pigs are so cute that there's no one who doesn't love them, truth be told" — after seting her feet in the silent apartment, and Choi turned on the lights and opened the windows. — "They don't make noise, they aren't extremely hyperactive and don't pee on your foot during a distracting moment on your part. It's almost as perfect as a cat."

"I always thought dogs would match you more" — Jisung sat on one of the armchairs in the room. — "Because of personality and such."

Jinah raised her eyebrows for a moment, should she take that as an offense?

"No, I don't have the patience."

Surprisingly, Jisung preferred dogs, but then he remembered all the times that Hyunjin and Yoorim went into serious confrontations to decide who had the best taste for something and came to the conclusion that it would be best not to take that topic much further.

"Wasn't Chan supposed to be here already?" — it was impossible not to notice Bang's absence, since he was always there at those times.

"Maybe he got stuck in traffic or stayed in the hospital to do something else" — Jinah shrugged and started untying her tie. — "The important thing is that we get a few minutes of privacy."

Jisung stared at the scene and laughed weakly. He was sitting with his back relaxed in the chair, having a pretentious Jinah in front of him while, unintentionally, she did some sort of striptease by getting rid of her tie and opening the first two buttons of her social shirt to make herself more comfortable.

"That looks very dirty in my mind."

"And then the pervert who thinks only bullshit is me," — the girl rolled her eyes, reminding herself of all the times that she was taxed that way just to let the progesterone bloom a little too much. — "But since I'm a very nice person" — she smirked —, "I'm not going to leave you with desire, that's unethical."

"The funny thing is that I don't remember saying I had any desire at any moment."

"I'd even believe if you took your eyes off of here," — she said of the little skin that was revealed when she opened the first buttons of her shirt, not slowing to open one more, revealing a little of the neckline. — "But that's what you least did so far."

The same smile also surfaced on Jisung's lips: — "I looked just by looking," — he pretended foolishly, this was becoming his best specialty in the last few days. — "You're the shameless one who hasn't yet learned where to change clothes isn't in the living room, especially when you have a visitor."

"You make me completely unmotivated" — Jinah gave up trying to look sexy, what, in her view, wasn't working at all, and let her arms fall. — "I'm here, trying to be sexy, and you don't even enter the mood. What a horror, Jisung"

"But look at the time you're trying to do this, this room is going to be filled with people soon."

"If I called you to my room, then, would have no more excuse?"

The boy opened and closed his mouth again and again, uncertain about what he could answer and fearing stuttering if he did.

"It's because of your panic that we don't fuck," — Jinah grunted and shook her head in disapproval, then realized what she had just said and was a little ashamed of her own lack of discretion. She decided to go to the kitchen to disguise her merely colored cheeks. — "So what? I didn't want that anyway."

Jisung remained paralyzed for a few more moments before rising and following her. It wasn't panic, it was just Jinah, who couldn't wait for the right moments of things.

"You don't have to come after me. You reject me and I can accept that."

"JinJin, I don't reject you" — Jisung hugged her from behind. Shit, Choi thought. Weaknesses were low blow. — "But you wanted to stay that way in the college bathroom, in my car at noon, at the movies and now in your living room. Do you understand how this can go wrong?"

"But forbidden is always better."

"Better for you, the inconsequential one" — Jisung turned her face to face, tearing the little pout into her lips with a peck. — "I'm not leaving here, we still have plenty of time for this."

Jinah didn't want to get so emotionally soft whenever Jisung wore that affectionate tone of voice, and she didn't want to feel her heart almost tearing her chest whenever she was near Han, so fast that the organ was beating. The truth was that Choi couldn't tell how or when, but, from one moment to the next, she relied so much on Han that she could no longer find a name that defined the force of that feeling but love. Jinah loved Jisung. She loved as she had never loved anyone, no matter how clichéd that might be. And, sometimes, she felt that she was reciprocated in the same way, but she couldn't reveal anything, for, on some occasions, it was as if the gaps that surrounded them were transformed into abysses. Not even a couple they were, to begin with.

"You got sad?" — Jisung asked as he realized that her features, before being free of any sadness, had become a little depressed.

"No, of course not" — Jinah smiled. She wasn't lying, for the reason for her sudden discomfort had nothing to do with her own lack of judgment. — "It's just that you've been so cute to me that it makes me sad."

The boy tipped his head and opened the smile that is directed at babies or adorable little animals and held the girl's face to fill her with kisses on all sides, receiving several laughter from Choi during the process. In the meantime, the front door was opened by Chan, who had Jade and Changbin as company. Jisung raised an eyebrow at Jinah, who could do nothing but quietly admit that the Han was right. The living room, definitely, wasn't the best place to play improper jokes with her future boyfriend.