#*important stipulation is that she Goes Through It about it of course of course

[ranvwoop]

trucy wrght deserves a tad of girlbossification. as a treat

[dapper-delinquent]

✨✨SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE "THREE THOUSAND YEARS OF LONGING" ✨✨

✨

✨

So, i just got back from seeing this movie, starring Tilda Swinton and Idris Elba. It is a movie a about a woman (tilda) who is a scholar that specializes in stories, finding a bottle while on a lecture tour in Istanbul, which happens to contain a Djinn (Idris). Per the standard fashion, the Djinn grants Tilda 3 wishes, as his freedom is bound to the completion of the 3rd wish (meaning as long as he actually fulfills the 3rd wish, he is instantly freed, there need not be a wish for freedom, which is a nice touch imo)

The entire plot of the movie is the Djinn telling Tilda how he came to be imprisoned 3 times over the last 3000 years, most of which was due to him falling in love with a woman, starting with the Queen of Sheba, and him being imprisoned by King Solomon, because Solomon didnt want to compete with the Djinn. Im not going to go through the entire plot of the movie, but its important to note that he loved Sheba, and his love for her is what caused his imprisonment, and what stipulated his powers, as the imprisonment was a curse, not just a matter of course.

This Djinn's wish granting power is not just for any frivolous desire, like endless wealth, or a good sandwich. His detainment into the bottle was due to his hearts deepest desire, and thusly, he cannot fulfill any wish unless it is truly of the wisher's hearts desire. Tilda refuses to make any rash decisions, as she has an extensive education in history and mythology, and is insodoing well versed in the stories of wishes and genies and djinn, and requests him to tell her how he become locked up in his series of bottles, trying to discern whether he is a Trickster Djinn.

The Djinn goes in depth, telling the stories of his fate, his love, his loss, his torture in a half-state of existence, his new love, and reimprisonment, again through the millennia. After hearing the stories of how much his love and lost love has cost him through the ages, Tilda makes her first wish, which, to me, really threw the movie WAY off pace, and took it down several pegs in my book... Tilda wishes for the Djinn to love her. She wishes for the Djinn to love her, and her to love him, so they might end their solitude together.

This is about 2/3 of the film through, leading into the final act. Tilda heard how the Djinn fell in love with his previous masters, after having been devoted to them for years and years, through learning them and their passions and desires, who they were as people, and falling for them for who they were... And after (seemingly) an hour or so, she wishes for the same thing they had, and is granted it by the Djinn.

Now, obviously, this is the point, which they even explicitly mention towards the end, that Tilda has wished for something you cannot ask for, that can only be given, which in a way, is a new kind of prison. She binds the Djinn to her, believes his affection to be genuine and real (which it is, for all intents and purposes), until she realizes several weeks later, that the Djinn is dying because she has bound him to the mortal realm by refusing to make her remaining wishes, and keeping him tied to the plane of mortals.

I dont know what im trying to say here, as im not really making a point, so much as stating what happened, but that turn of events just... (Excuse the pun) Rubbed me the wrong way. The tone of the film up to that point did not seem to be leading to that conclusion, in my opinion. I think i could write an entire essay about this film, my opinions on it, and the symbolism and message both presented and implied.

**bonus: the airline she flies into Istanbul on is the "Sharazad", or Scheherazade, of One Thousand and One Nights fame, and her name is Alithea, as in the greek goddess of Truth.

[valdomarx]

A Marriage of Convenience

Octoberfest romcom tropes day 1: fake dating

Jaskier pushed his ale aside and broke the wax seal on the letter. As he read the contents, his face pinched into a frown.

“Anything important?” Geralt asked, glancing up from his soup. 

Jaskier chewed his lower lip. “Not really. It’s from my family.” He took a breath. “They’re going to disinherit me.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Nothing, thank you very much! But it’s my 35th birthday next month, and the stipulations of the Lettenhove family will are quite clear. If the oldest son isn’t married by the age of 35, inheritance passes to the next married cousin.”

“Very keen on weddings in Lettenhove, are they?”

“Rather less keen on unmarried bachelors, actually.”

Geralt grunted. “That’s too bad. I imagine a viscount’s fortune could have come in handy for you.”

“Oh, I don’t care about the money.” Jaskier waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just,” he sighed. “I have younger sisters who rely on me for support. If the inheritance goes to cousin Edward, he’ll turn them out without a penny to their names.”

“That’s unkind.”

“It is.” Jaskier slumped. He was glad to have left Lettenhove and its court intrigues behind, but the thought of his sisters being at the mercy of his greedy cousin was unconscionable. He knew too well all the terrible things that could befall a woman alone in the world.

“This will,” Geralt said, stirring his soup absentmindedly, “does it have any rules about who you have to marry?”

“No. Any old wedding will do. But it’s not like I’m going to find anyone willing to tie themselves to me in the next month.”

Geralt shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll marry you.”

Jaskier choked on his ale. “You?”

“Why not?”

“Because…” he broke off and mopped the sweat from his brow. Because I’ve been in love with you for decades. Because I’ve fantasised about you saying this in a million different ways. Because having to pretend it’s real is going to break my heart.

Geralt reached over the table and patted his hand. “It’ll just be pretend,” he said, as if that were in any way reassuring. “This is a problem easily solved. Let me help you.”

Jaskier sagged. This was going to be a disaster.

-

“This is going to be a disaster!” Jaskier paced anxiously around their room. “There are so many ways this could go horribly wrong.”

Geralt sat on the bed counting bundles of herbs. “It’ll be fine.” He was infuriatingly calm. “We’ll head to Lettenhove, have a quick wedding, get your family off your back, and be on our way. It’ll only take a few days.”

“But,” Jaskier kept pacing. “We’ll have to. You know. We’ll have to do couple things. There are certain… expectations of a newly married pair.”

Geralt got to his feet and placed his hands on Jaskier’s shoulders, stopping his anxious traipsing. “We’ll manage. Can’t be any worse than fighting drowners.”

Jaskier looked into amber eyes and felt his heart turn over in his chest. “Everyone will expect us to be holding hands, and kissing, and gods know what else. And you can’t do that.” He sighed. “You don’t even like men.”

Geralt leaned in closer, close enough that strands of his silver hair tickled Jaskier’s cheek. “I like men just fine,” he said, and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then Jaskier did something terribly foolish. His body moved before his mind, his feet stepping closer, his arms wrapping around Geralt’s neck. He kissed him, hard, and to his astonishment Geralt kissed him back hungrily, lips parting to allow Jaskier to taste him fully, tongue exploring, hands roaming, and by the time they broke apart Jaskier was flushed and breathing hard.

“See?” Geralt said, his deep voice sending a shiver up his spine. “We can do this.”

-

Jaskier wrote to his family to tell them the good news, and he and Geralt wasted no time in heading off to Lettenhove. The journey was long but nothing they were unused to. They traveled by day, slept under the stars by night, and Geralt even picked up a few quick contracts to help pay their way.

It was comfortable, and normal, and Jaskier could almost forget about what he was about to put himself through.

At least, until they reached the outskirts of Lettenhove and they heard the whoosh of an incoming portal. The ground shook, the air rippled, and through the rent in reality stepped Yennefer, terrifying and beautiful as ever.

She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at them. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Jaskier couldn’t even bring himself to come up with a snarky reply as she swept past him and went to Geralt. He stood back and watched the two of them, powerful and dazzling together, each other’s equals in capability and composure.

He had never had a chance in this competition, he thought bitterly. He would be pretending with Geralt, while she had his heart for real.

Jaskier was left at camp while Geralt and Yennefer went off to do... whatever it was they did together. (He could guess what that was.) He spent a cold, lonely night with no one but Roach for company, berating himself for feeling so hurt by something he knew from the beginning was nothing but a ruse.

-

With their arrival in Lettenhove proper, there was nothing to do but face his family. The brightest spot of his day was walking into the estate and having his sisters squeal and jump on him just as they had done as children.

He stopped laughing and caught his breath long enough to introduce them. “Essi and Priscilla, this is Geralt.” My husband to be, he thought, and something twisted inside him at that. “Geralt, these are my troublesome sisters.”

Essi dipped her head and Priscilla performed a theatrical bow. “We were wondering if Jaskier would ever settle down,” Essi said with a sly smile.

“But seeing how handsome you are, I can’t blame him!” Priscilla replied, and the two of them broke into fits of giggles. 

Geralt, for his part, took them with good humour. Where Jaskier had been expecting him to be dour, he smiled indulgently and took each of their hands in turn and pressed a kiss to their knuckles, resulting in another uproar of giggling.

“Thank you for that,” Jaskier said quietly as they made their way to the room waiting for them.

Geralt inclined his head. “Have to make a good impression on the future in-laws,” he said, the corner of his lips quirking upward in amusement. 

The rest of his family were predictable as clockwork. Cousin Edward was sour, his father was distant, and his mother was simply relieved to see him married off as was proper. Geralt sat through all of it with more patience and good grace than Jaskier would have thought him capable of.

-

The day of the wedding itself passed in a blur. With such short notice the ceremony was terribly paired down by noble standards, but still, there was the formal breakfast, the dressing in formal garments, the journey to the temple outside of the city, the clamour of priestesses and officials and his family, the exchanging of rings, the reading of texts, and of course the formal dinner.

Jaskier barely remembered any of it. Looking back, the only thing that stuck out in his mind was the feeling of Geralt’s hand clasping his own during the handfasting. And the way that, whenever he was feeling overwhelmed over the course of the day, Geralt’s hand would find his own and give a comforting squeeze. 

-

Finally the ceremonies were complete and they were left in peace in their chambers, the two of them alone for the first time all day. Geralt’s hair had been braided into two slim plaits running either side of his face, though by now they were starting to become mussed. He’d even put on a shirt of dark blue silk as opposed to his standard uniform of all black. The effect was quite stunning.

As the door closed, Jaskier’s shoulders slumped and he breathed for what felt like the first time in hours.

Geralt cupped one cheek tenderly. “You good?”

Jaskier exhaled, letting the anxiety and stress of the day slowly unwind. He looked into Geralt’s warm eyes and felt, for once, safe and unjudged. “I’m good.”

Geralt brought their lips together, soft as could be, and Jaskier’s knees shook. He grabbed Geralt’s forearms to hold himself upright and, desperate for some sort of control, some sort of meaning, he pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. 

This was a bad idea, he was aware, but Geralt felt so good in his arms. He ran his hands through silky silver hair like he’d always wanted to, he pressed himself close to that muscled chest he’d spent more time than he should have admiring, and he moaned unrestrainedly when Geralt picked him up, locking his legs around his waist.

This was a terrible idea, he knew, but Geralt carried him over to the bed with firm, confident steps, and the temptation to touch, to hold, to kiss was overwhelming. This would only lead to heartache, but he was weak in the face of love, as always. 

Geralt laid him out and took him apart with soft lips and careful fingers and a wicked tongue, and it was everything he’d been dreaming of for years, and yet so much more intense than anything he could have imagined. Geralt was dazzling beneath him, warm amber eyes and pale scarred flesh, beautiful and kind and more than he could possibly deserve.

-

Nuptial celebrations in Lettenhove were mercifully brief, and with the ceremony completed and recorded to the satisfaction of the genealogists, they were free to depart.

There were, however, some customs which could not be avoided.

“You’ll be honeymooning nearby?” Jaskier’s mother asked, with the understanding that this was not a question.

“Actually, we thought -”

“They’ll be staying in my cottage, won’t you?” Priscilla interjected. She’d availed herself of her position, such as it was, to secure a tiny ramshackle cottage on the Kerack coast. It wasn’t opulent but it was, thankfully, far from prying eyes.

Jaskier gave her a tiny nod of thanks and she winked.

“A cottage?” His mother’s lip turned up in distaste. “How quaint.”

“And there’s ever so much to pack, so we must be on our way -” he excused himself with a bow, tugging Geralt behind him.

Out of the view of their parents, Priscilla and Essi set upon him with hugs and kisses, thanked him for saving them from the horrors of cousin Edward, and packed up an obscene quantity of cheeses and wine to take with them.

By the time they departed the estate, Jaskier was even smiling.

-

It was quiet and calm on the coast. The cottage overlooked the sea, rolling and tempestuous, and had just enough space for a kitchen, a bed, and a bath. They had everything they needed, even a stable for Roach outside.

Even though it was only for a few days, Jaskier imagined Geralt would be bored and unhappy, feeling trapped in a place so small. But he seemed content: riding along the coastline in the morning, brushing Roach out, going fishing in the afternoon, preparing the catch for their evening meal.

Jaskier showed him his favourite spices and how to prepare the fish with butter to make it rich and indulgent, and in the quiet moments he wrote poetry or simply sat on the battered chair on the porch of the cottage and watched the waves.

Geralt returned to the cottage with a net bulging with fish and a smile on his face. He’d been doing that more recently, Jaskier had noticed, smiling in a way that seemed natural and unforced. He even left his armour and swords in the cottage and waded down to the sea in just his trousers and shirtsleeves, disarmingly casual.

It was comfortable, almost domestic. 

And it was a torment, showing Jaskier a tiny glimpse of a life he’d never have.

-

Their last night on the coast, Geralt cooked the remainder of their provisions into a feast, poured the best wine they had, and set a fire in the hearth. He piled up blankets and pillows, laid down their warmest furs, and pulled Jaskier into his arms in front of the flames.

“Thank you,” he said, dotting kisses in a line up Jaskier’s neck, “for taking such good care of me.”

Jaskier fidgeted unhappily. “You’re the one doing me a favour,” he reminded him. That seemed important to remember. This was a favour from a friend, nothing more.

Geralt hummed against his neck, the vibrations rippling against his skin. “I can see some advantages to me,” he murmured, continuing his line of kisses up Jaskier’s jaw and toward his lips.

Jaskier, stupidly, allowed Geralt to turn him around, hands delicate around his waist, allowed him to bring their lips together. He allowed a kiss, soft at first, and then another, more intense, moaning into Geralt’s mouth. 

“Can I interest you in an early night?” Geralt purred in his ear, and everything in Jaskier’s body said yes, and everything in his mind said no.

Eventually, his mind won out and he pushed Geralt away. 

“No,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I can’t. I won’t. I’m sorry, Geralt, but this was a terrible mistake.”

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Geralt’s sad expression. He was hit by the urge to run, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Hey,” Geralt’s voice was so soft behind him. “It’s okay, Jaskier. Whatever it is. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I won’t do it again.”

Jaskier deflated. He turned to face Geralt, watery eyes and all. “That’s not the problem. I don’t want you to stop. I want this to be real.”

Geralt stood carefully still. “What do you mean, real?”

Jaskier took a breath, tried to imagine how to explain himself, how to convey what he felt. “I’m in love with you!” he snapped in the end. Not his most eloquent work, but perhaps his most honest.

Geralt tilted his head. “I know,” he said. He looked down at the ring on his finger. “Isn’t that the point?”

“The point?” Jaskier exploded. “The point!” He couldn’t stop himself from waving his arms as he ranted. “Oh, sure, I’m certain that the ideal marriage is between one person who’s hopelessly in love and one person who’s indifferent and besotted with another. I’m sure Yennefer will be delighted when she hears about this whole situation.”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m in love with Yennefer?”

“Yes! Obviously!”

He paused, obviously weighing his words. “That night when she visited us outside Lettenhove, she wasn’t surprised by the news. She told me congratulations, and that it had taken long enough. I think she knew long before I did that I wasn’t in love with her, not really. My heart already belonged to another.”

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat. “You mean… You and her, you’re not...”

Geralt shook his head. “What she most wants is something I can’t give her.”

“And you?” Jaskier asked, dreading the answer.

Geralt took his hand. “What I most want,” he stroked his thumb over the ring around Jaskier’s finger, “is something I already have.”

Jaskier’s heart leapt. It was almost too much. It was overwhelming. “You really love me?”

Geralt smiled softly. “I really do.”

Jaskier threw himself into Geralt’s lap, arms around his neck, foreheads pressed together. “Tell me again,” he said, because he was needy.

“I love you,” Geralt said, kissing down the side of his face. “I love you,” he said, lacing their fingers together against the furs. “I love you,” he said, their bodies moving together, finally free to feel with the intensity they had been hiding for so long, their scents mingling together with the fresh salt tang of the sea.

-

The sun shone brightly and the wind whipped their hair as they packed up Roach the next morning. Jaskier paused to admire the view one last time: The rolling waves, the steep cliffs, the shingled beach. 

Geralt slipped his arms around his waist from behind and dropped a kiss just beneath his ear. 

“What does our life look like now?” Jaskier asked, eyes on the waves.

He felt Geralt’s smile against his hair. “Much the same as before,” he said. “With perhaps a few improvements.”

Jaskier turned then and kissed him fully, no need to hold himself back, taking Geralt’s hand and running his fingers over the ring there.

“Ready to head back to the Path?” 

Geralt smiled, and Jaskier would never tire of that. “Ready if you are,” he said with softness in his eyes, “husband.”

[hansolmates]

the proposal (m)

banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits​

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01

“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.” 

“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!” 

Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published. 

However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since. 

Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company. 

“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.

“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.” 

Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”

“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous. 

“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!” 

“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!” 

At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why. 

Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.” 

Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?” 

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.” 

You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin. 

He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.” 

“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.” 

“Done and done.” 

“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything. 

“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.” 

“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate. 

Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”

“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?” 

Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.” 

You’ve been seeing red for days. 

While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work. 

You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner. 

Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!” 

The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down. 

Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?” 

“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?” 

“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.

Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink. 

“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?” 

“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.” 

“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?” 

“Of course, she’d be dead not to.”  you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?” 

“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”

“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.” 

“I know.”

“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”

“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.” 

“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!” 

“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”

“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!” 

“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!” 

“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”

“Trouble in paradise?” 

A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts. 

“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.” 

“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.” 

You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?” 

Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving. 

“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city. 

“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.” 

You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later. 

“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?” 

“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve. 

“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook. 

You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—” 

“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.” 

“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!” 

“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do. 

“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.” 

She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp. 

“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk. 

“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.” 

“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.” 

You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle. 

“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with  heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship. 

“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!” 

It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation. 

The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket. 

“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!” 

He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.” 

“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.” 

“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.” 

“Really, then how do I like my coffee?” 

“Uh… hot?” 

You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel. 

“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story. 

“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.” 

“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?” 

“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?” 

“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?” 

“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.” 

“Favorite movie?” 

“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.” 

“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.” 

“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”

“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.” 

The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation. 

When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out. 

“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport. 

A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.” 

You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.

When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.” 

“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other. 

“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago. 

“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!” 

Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion. 

Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...” 

“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?” 

“Hard.” 

You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice. 

Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.” 

“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief. 

“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.” 

“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.” 

You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun. 

The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long. 

Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?” 

You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism. 

“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.” 

Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.” 

If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.” 

In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us. 

“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?” 

The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged. 

Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins. 

“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!” 

“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?” 

“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?” 

“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly. 

“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?” 

His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway. 

He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?” 

“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him. 

“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?” 

“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.” 

It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear. 

Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook. 

“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance. 

“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms. 

The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse. 

“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.” 

“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”

“Which means?” 

“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.” 

The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room. 

You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you. 

In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be. 

His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?” 

“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.” 

“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.” 

You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something. 

Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder. 

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.” 

Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party. 

It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.” 

“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.” 

“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?” 

“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!” 

“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.” 

You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!” 

Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook. 

The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show. 

Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!” 

Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!” 

The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple. 

Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!” 

“Kiss kiss kiss!” 

“This is going on my story so make it good!” 

“Kiss him before I do!” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else. 

As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours. 

It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm. 

He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now. 

Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter? 

The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.” 

“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night. 

“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.

“Please don’t say it.” 

“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!” 

“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him. 

“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.” 

“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?” 

“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.” 

Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.” 

Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”

“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?” 

“That’s the one.” 

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.” 

Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him. 

“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill. 

“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat. 

Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.” 

“What movie?” 

“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.” 

He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”

“Jung Hoseok!”

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.” 

After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early. 

“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?” 

“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”

“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.” 

You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work. 

Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9. 

“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his. 

Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.” 

She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn. 

“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.” 

He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.” 

With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.” 

Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside. 

Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous. 

Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?” 

“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!” 

“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi. 

“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth. 

“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest. 

You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?” 

Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later. 

“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat. 

“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?” 

He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.” 

“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?” 

“Always.” 

Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.” 

“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.” 

As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you. 

You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.” 

“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?” 

“Already out the door, bossman.” 

Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie. 

You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be. 

The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.

“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!” 

“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”

And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out. 

“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.” 

“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”

“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.” 

“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.” 

“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.” 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict. 

“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!” 

“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag. 

“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood. 

The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.

Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace. 

After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope. 

While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles. 

That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.

It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal. 

Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.

“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet. 

So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away. 

You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun. 

“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds. 

“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.” 

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.

“Did you say something?” 

“I said, I’m sorry.” 

You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.” 

“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.” 

That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content. 

The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic. 

He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body. 

“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.” 

“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!” 

“You were worried?” 

“Shut up.” 

The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp. 

“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.” 

“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter. 

“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.” 

Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”

“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.” 

“But still.” 

“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?” 

You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting. 

Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.” 

He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?” 

You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.” 

“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.” 

Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu. 

He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind. 

You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads. 

The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid. 

“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.” 

“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.” 

He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. 

“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions. 

He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”

“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”  

You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.” 

He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip. 

“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.” 

His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com. 

“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly. 

“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.” 

It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day. 

Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé. 

He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.” 

“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.” 

“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.” 

“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.” 

“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?” 

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”

“You sure about that, baby girl?” 

You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.” 

“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.” 

“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.” 

And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.

“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.” 

He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand. 

“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.” 

You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers. 

“I’ll just warm up the car and—”

“Babeeeeee,”  the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.” 

The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger. 

“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.” 

“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.” 

Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed. 

But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother. 

“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house. 

“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.” 

Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.” 

“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!” 

“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.” 

“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues. 

You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting. 

“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”

“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say? 

“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.” 

Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something. 

Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why. 

It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom. 

It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him. 

Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree. 

Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye. 

“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder. 

“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much. 

“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store. 

Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked. 

Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months. 

Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm. 

Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face. 

“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.” 

She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band. 

Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry. 

Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band. 

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”

“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.” 

Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?” 

“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.” 

“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.” 

“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!” 

Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.

“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.” 

Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.” 

Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that. 

“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.” 

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?” 

You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable. 

“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” 

[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right? 

[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit

[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)

[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!!  Can i disown a first cousin?? 

[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic

You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor. 

“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner. 

“Shoot.” 

“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”

“Of course, that’s why we’re here.” 

“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.” 

Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?” 

What? 

“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.” 

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.” 

His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?” 

“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.” 

“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?” 

“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge. 

“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed. 

“What, like fake moan into the wall?” 

“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.” 

Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both. 

“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!” 

“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”

And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes. 

“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?” 

“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.” 

“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.” 

His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables. 

Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time. 

“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.” 

“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!” 

“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.” 

The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion. 

Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard. 

“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.” 

Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs. 

“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.” 

Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed. 

You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck. 

You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts. 

He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw. 

“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more. 

You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make  yourself feel good.” 

“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”

“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.” 

With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body. 

“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,” 

“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal. 

“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”

“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand. 

“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why. 

“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.” 

As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31. 

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you. 

Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies. 

Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch. 

Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club. 

“He fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles. 

“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.” 

“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?” 

You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs. 

“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.” 

Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom. 

“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.” 

“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway. 

He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”. 

“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.” 

You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!” 

“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.” 

“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”

“10,000.”

“20,000.”

“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently. 

You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”

“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.” 

“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks. 

“You say that like it’s not possible!” 

“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.” 

It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast. 

The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake. 

Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room. 

Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out. 

“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.” 

“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.” 

“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca. 

Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”  

“What’s up?” 

“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.” 

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.” 

“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.” 

“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.” 

“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?” 

Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners. 

“Because we get along.” you say simply.

“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.” 

“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”

“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”

“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!” 

Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.” 

You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”

He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail. 

“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.” 

He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.” 

“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face. 

He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute? 

“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses. 

You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin. 

It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes. 

Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap. 

“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.” 

“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.” 

The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game. 

“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.” 

“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well—”

“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!” 

At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back. 

They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were. 

“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.” 

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?” 

Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.

“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?” 

Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. . 

But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering. 

You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.

A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh. 

“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”

“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his. 

He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.” 

The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket. 

However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed. 

Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings. 

And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was. 

His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it. 

Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you. 

And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually. 

And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much? 

He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful. 

[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back

[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me

Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you? 

His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday.  Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel. 

This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.

“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.” 

Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?” 

“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.” 

Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.” 

If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked. 

A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use. 

It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat. 

He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!” 

Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold. 

And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him. 

Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right. 

Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.” 

“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it. 

Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.” 

“I don’t deserve your trust.” 

“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.  

You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug. 

You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this. 

Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest. 

Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.” 

Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced. 

“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?” 

Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side. 

“Long version or short version?” 

“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.” 

“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”

Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.  

“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!” 

“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.” 

“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”

“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.” 

Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant. 

“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.” 

“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!” 

“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.” 

You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him. 

Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up. 

Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?” 

Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.” 

You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”

“Living vicariously all day, every day.” 

While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air. 

“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.” 

Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!” 

Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away. 

“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.” 

“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.” 

Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.” 

“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?” 

“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?” 

“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.” 

“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.” 

You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you. 

Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right. 

He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee. 

Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”  

With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. 

Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.” 

“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?” 

Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.” 

And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal. 

Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions. 

“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.” 

“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.” 

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.” 

“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.” 

some months later.

“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.” 

“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.” 

“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.” 

“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.” 

“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?” 

“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.” 

Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye. 

Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?” 

“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.” 

“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.” 

You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?” 

He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.” 

You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.” 

He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.” 

bonus.

“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!” 

Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream. 

A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?” 

“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings. 

“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook pops. 

“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?” 

You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag. 

“Hit us with your best shot.” 

[spookyrobbins]

If you’re given a chance to rewrite how calzona left the show, how would you do it?

(I really love your work! You are an amazing writer.)

okay for my sanity we’re gonna pretend sara was staying for 13/14

i’m gonna leave the entirety of s12 alone but it’ll all work out you’ll see

so arizona gives callie the tickets at the end of s12 and that seems to be it, they’re done, things are very final with them for maybe the first time ever

callie is going to nyc with penny and sofia and she’s going to be happy, just like arizona wanted, that was the last thing arizona could give her

and so s13 opens and the viewer is expecting callie gone, but in sort of a mirror of how arizona ended the previous season, callie shows up with sofia at arizona’s door bc she was going to go, she got all the way to the airport but she couldn’t do it, arizona is sofia’s mom and sofia needs to stay in seattle; and arizona asks callie what she’s going to do and callie says she still needs to go to nyc and talk to penny and deal with the contract she signed for an attending position (arizona might quip about callie needing to grovel to bailey) - neither of them makes any indication about getting back together or anything of the like

so then callie’s gone for a bit and this is important bc arizona needs to meet eliza without callie immediately around

so then callie comes back in the middle of the revolt against eliza and callie is often blindly loyal and she’s hardcore seattle grace so she’d obvs be very much anti eliza

she’d also be the first one to really notice that eliza and arizona are kind of flirting - after all, she’d be the most qualified and she confronts arizona about sleeping with the person trying to oust webber and who got meredith suspended etc

this of course is right on the heels of the custody battle where callies lawyers essentially called arizona a slut so it’s an understandably tender spot for arizona - we get a fun little argument maybe with lines like “i guess i shouldn’t be surprised you have no loyalty” and “at least i’m not sleeping with someone who killed one of our friends” - they both say things they regret and arizona and eliza aren’t even sleeping together at this point

things are icey between them for a little while - everyone is a bit in their feelings - arizona really genuinely tries with eliza and callie throws herself into her work - but there’s still pining looks

and we can have scenes of callie bitching about arizona (bc let’s be real she was never quiet about things) to maybe bailey who doesn’t have a lot of time for it - opens the possibility for callie reflecting on the custody battle - over even more fun callie learning about the “you’re nothing” fight after making some comment about how arizona is being way too intense about schedules or something and bailey saying something to the effect of “maybe it’s because both you and sloan have called her nothing to that little girl, when we all know that sofia is her whole world, that sofia is all she has left”

there is also the possibility of callie complaining about arizona and eliza to someone and someone (maybe meredith or alex once he’s out of jail) saying something to the effect of “arizona never said a word about you moving on, in fact she supported you and was rather courteous about it so you don’t have a leg to stand on” - this portion of the season is very much callies come to jesus moment

and then we get to the season finale of 13 (hospital fire and rapist on the loose as a reminder) - arizona was outside of the hospital with eliza when the hospital exploded; callie was inside and freaked out about arizona bc honestly it would be very like arizona to find herself in the middle of an explosion

arizona of course goes back into help alex with peds and the nicu (eliza is supposed to call the police which is what gets her fired i seem to recall)

so callie takes off looking for arizona but she can’t find her and bc it’s arizona she assumed the worst bc when isn’t it the worst when it comes to arizona and it really puts callies confused feelings into perspective at the thought of maybe losing arizona

meanwhile arizona (all essentially off screen) is dealing with peds and fetal and she’s totally fine just lots of stressed out kids and parents

but callie can’t find her bc there’s just too much going on at least not until it’s basically morning and the fires out and callie sees arizona across the parking lot with alex and in sort of a mirror of the post shooting kiss, tells arizona she loves her and can’t live with out her and she’s sorry it took her so long to realise this, but after the kiss arizona pushes her away and says she can’t do this again

and that ends s13

s14 in the show of course starts with eliza ghosting arizona who then meets carina in a bar and as much as i adore carina i’m afraid she does not get to hook up with arizona

instead eliza still ghosts arizona and then arizona and callie go out for a drink to discuss everything that happened a few days ago and how arizona is feeling about owen’s sister suddenly being found alive when she went mia/kia in not dissimilar circumstances to tim (bc this is my season we get to discuss my love tim)

no confessions of love but they do fall into bed with each other and this is probably a mistake but somehow they keep making it and so then we get arizona and callie basically sleeping together in secret

and all the while callies confession is hanging over their heads but they are not discussing it bc they’re callie and arizona and god forbid they act like grown ups and discuss their feelings instead of just having sex

that is until arizona loses karin (april’s ex’s wife) and it throws her into a depression and callies been here before, she’s had to handle arizona’s depression before and she knows now that she mishandled it and she’s not going to do that again

so she goes to arizona and arizona sort of reluctantly tries to have sex with her but callie turns her down and this turns into an argument but it’s not a bad argument, it’s more of a cathartic argument of callie trying to prove that she’s changed, that they’ve changed and they’re stronger, better than they were before while arizona is torn between fear and telling callie she loves her too - end result they agree to try one more time with a whole variety of stipulations and guidelines

for hm maybe an episode things are fine and light and happy and a pretty pink bubble with them

that is until callie finds out by accident that arizona has been offered the chance to run hopkins fetal dept/have her own research/learning facility there and it’s been blessed by herman - and when asked about it, arizona avoids the question and callie is understandably hurt

on arizona’s side, she’s freaking out bc she knows what happens when she’s given huge career opportunities and she’s with callie - callie resents her for it and they break up and she can’t put them through another custody debacle so when mccale (her peds mentor) and herman offered her the position she basically just kicked the can down the road - this is all made worse by the fact she knows it’s not that callie isn’t open to a move, it’s a move with arizona that callie won’t do

so things are weird between the two of them and pretty much no one wants to get involved and even sofia is picking up on it and she starts acting out in school - maybe gets in a fight or something, which sends arizona and callie into this weird proxy argument about parenting which is very much a soft spot for arizona

by the time of the breast cancer ep, they haven’t broken up (bc at the start they agreed if they broke up they wouldn’t try again) but they’re not really speaking - sort of like how they were in the early stages of the baby fight - but when arizona thinks she has breast cancer the only person she wants is callie - so we get this great part-comedic part-heartfelt scene of owen, april, callie and arizona in an exam room with arizona’s boobs out and callie blurts out that she knows that arizona has a huge job offer from hopkins and she’s really hurt that arizona didn’t tell her bc she thinks she should take it (april and owen leave bc arizona’s boobs are still fully out as they talk) and arizona admits that she didn’t even want to entertain it bc she can’t lose callie again and then callie gets to finally (after like 10 years) actually be excited about arizona’s career and arizona also admits that she managed to get hopkins to agree to give callie head of ortho research or something and her own lab bc they’re interested in the artificial cartilage or prosthetics or something

after like an episode of discussion they decide to move - it’s a huge opportunity for arizona, callie will be able to focus on her research, arizona loved hopkins, the robbins live somewhat close by and it’s a lot closer to miami, and they both agree that maybe it’s time to leave seattle

then we get the weed cookie episode and just like fluffy calzona shenanigans (which are going to be featured in an upcoming fix)

when april is half frozen, callie is very much there for arizona and it’s very evident that they’re stronger than before

and they get say all their goodbyes (which arizona got but callie didn’t really) in the alex wedding episode, they stay for april’s wedding and then they’re off, happily ever after to hopkins

[fangirl530]

Acts of True Love Don't Have to be Romantic

AO3 link

Rapunzel touches something she shouldn't while at the spire, sending her into a deep sleep. As the trope goes, only an act of true love can wake her up. No problem, this will be easy!

... Right?

-

“-and I’m telling you, the best way to read is to lie on the floor with the book above you,” Calliope said from her place on the floor. “You’re all doing it wrong.”

“Okay,” Rapunzel interjected, closing her book. “Maybe we should take a break.” She, Eugene, Varian, Lance, Angry, and Catalina were at the Spire, helping Calliope to find out what the various artifacts it held did- as they weren’t labeled.

Rapunzel had warned the younger members of their party that Calliope could be a bit… egocentric, but words hadn’t prepared them for meeting her. She could tell they were about to snap.

Immediately after she voiced her suggestion, Angry jumped to her feet. “Race you outside!” she said to Catalina, before sprinting to the door. Catalina jumped up too, chasing after her with a determined smile. Lance stood, stretching.

“I’m going with them,” he said. He grinned. “Keep them out of trouble, you know?”

Calliope nodded. “There are a lot of dangers out there,” she said. “Watch out for the wolves.”

Lance chuckled. “Yeah, sure,” he said, smirking. “We’ll be careful.” he left, and Calliope frowned, looking at Rapunzel.

“You're not more concerned about them?” she asked. Rapunzel shook her head.

“No, they’ll be okay- they know what they’re doing,” she reassured. Calliope rolled her eyes.

“You Coronans,” she said. “It must be awful to be so dumb.”

“Hey, why don’t we look at the artifacts?” Rapunzel suggested quickly as Varian gaped at the keeper. “Maybe they have a clue on them about what they are?”

“Of course!” Calliope grinned. “The artifacts may have inscriptions on them about how they’re used. That’s brilliant, I’m so glad I thought of it!”

Eugene put an arm around Varian. “Goggles and I will check these ones, over here,” he said, leading the grumbling boy away from her. Rapunzel and Calliope went their own way, examining various artifacts. After setting down a box with a heart on the lid, Rapunzel moved to a spinning wheel and knelt in front of it. She tilted her head to one side, curious.

It didn’t look magic- the spindle wasn’t even sharp! She reached out, tapping her finger against it- and hissed as it pricked her finger.

“You’re sharper…” her eyes grew heavy, and she yawned. “...then...you look…” her eyes closed, and she fell over with a soft thud.

Varian looked up from where he was examining a sword, in the direction he’d seen Rapunzel go.

“Did you say something Rapu-” he gasped, eyes widening with horror. “Rapunzel!” he cried, running toward her. He was vaguely aware of Eugene close on his heels, but he only had eyes for the unconscious princess.

He fell to his knees at her side, fear filling him. Was she…?

Eugene must have had the same thing in mind, because he reached out and placed his fingers on the side of her neck. After a moment, he sighed in relief.

“She’s just asleep,” he reassured Varian. “Still not good- but better than the alternative.” he looked at the wheel in front of them, frowning. “It must have been this thing that caused it.”

Varian looked around, scanning the piles of books. “I think I saw a book on artifacts related to sleep earlier,” he said. He started to rise to his feet, prepared to search the piles, but Calliope’s yell stopped him.

“I’ve got it!” she called, waving the book in question around with a triumphant grin. The book slipped from her hand, and Varian’s eyes widened. He ducked, and the book flew over his head and hit Eugene in the face. The man grunted, and when Varian turned to look at him, he had an extremely unamused expression on his face. Varian snickered, reaching for the book.

“Nice catch, Eugene,” he teased, opening it and flipping through the pages.

“Yeah yeah,” Eugene said, smirking as he shuffled over next to him, placing his hands on his shoulders and leaning over to look past his head at the book.

“So,” Calliope said loudly, plopping down next to Varian and leaning up against his side, scanning the book. “Find anything useful?” Varian frowned at her as he flipped the page.

“No, not yet- wait!” he pointed at the page, excitement in his voice. “Here! ‘The spindle of sleep’. Designed to fool its targets by seemingly being blunt, and when they touch it, it puts them in a deep sleep.” he dragged his finger down the page. “It says here, an act of true love can wake her up.” his eyes narrowed. “But there’s a part at the bottom that’s blotched out with ink- I can’t make it out.”

“It’s probably not important.” Calliope shrugged it off. “Anyway, an act of true love- that should be easy.”

-

Eugene sat at Rapunzel’s bedside with Pascal, watching for any changes. Of course, he’d tried kissing her- which had been slightly awkward, at first. Varian had been courteous enough to look away, but Calliope had stared at him until Varian put a hand on her shoulder and suggested they go tell Lance and the girls what had happened.

After they were gone, Eugene had pulled Rapunzel up gently, supporting her head, and kissed her gently. He’d sat back, waiting- and nothing had happened. Unsure what to do, they’d all said goodbye to Calliope and rushed back to Corona.

“Hey buddy,” Lance’s voice said, drawing he and Pascal’s attention. The man stepped into the room with Angry and Catalina close behind him. “How are you holding up?”

Eugene sighed. “I’m worried about her, but I know we’ll find a way to wake her up- Varian is in the library right now, searching for a solution.” he stood. “I’m going to go help him- could you stay with Pascal and keep an eye on Rapunzel for me?”

“Sure,” Lance agreed. “But, that’s not what I meant.” Eugene looked at him, confused, and he continued. “With your kiss not waking her up,” he explained. Eugene snorted, much to the Schnitz family’s confusion.

“Oh, that,” he said. “No, I’m not concerned about it at all.”

“Oh no, he’s gone mad with worry,” Lance stage-whispered down to his daughters. Angry raised her hand, grinning maniacally.

“Can I be the one to smack him?” she asked. Eugene rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine, guys- really. I know a lot about acts of true love- mostly because most of the books I read got it wrong.” he crossed his arms smugly. “As long as the person doing the act of true love truly loves the person, it will work- the person doesn’t have to love them back.”

“Huh, guess all those romance books we read came in handy after all,” Lance mused. Eugene grinned.

“I know, right?”

“But then why didn’t Rapunzel wake up?” Catalina asked, confused.

“Remember how the book had a part at the end that was blotched out?” Eugene asked. “It must have been a stipulation- a rule, or something. So it’s not easy.”

“It never is,” Lance agreed. He clapped Eugene on the shoulder. “Go help Varian- we’ve got things covered here.” Pascal jumped from the bed to his shoulder and nodded.

“Thanks Lance,” Eugene said. He gave them a cheerful smile. “I’ll be back soon- it shouldn’t take too long! How many books can there be?” he left, missing the sympathetic look Lance sent him.

“Poor guy’s never searched the magic section in that library,” he said, shaking his head. “Better make yourselves comfortable- we’re gonna be here a while.”

Eugene walked through the castle, heading for where he thought the library was. He had been in there before- not often, but enough to have a pretty good idea how to find it. Sure enough, he soon came to a large set of doors that he definitely remembered belonging to the library.

He opened them and stepped inside, turning to close them behind him.“Hey Varian,” he called over his shoulder. “Did you manage to find any books on-” he stopped, jaw dropping at the sight before him.

“Hey,” Varian said, waving. “Yeah, I managed to find a few.”

A few was an understatement. Varian and Ruddiger were surrounded entirely by stacks of books, at least six books tall.

“Well,” Eugene said, laughing slightly. “We’d better get started, huh?”

-

“I can’t believe this,” Varian said, slamming closed the book he’d just flipped through with a thud. “Every one of these books has ‘an act of true love’ as the only way to wake someone from an enchanted sleep!” Ruddiger patted the boy’s knee reassuringly, and Varian scratched behind his ears with a slight smile.

Eugene closed his own book, sighing. “Same here,” he said, standing. “I’m going to go grab us something to eat, and let Lance know he can take Angry and Catalina to the kitchen to eat too.” he gestured to the pile of unread books. “You okay with taking the rest of these up to Rapunzel’s room?”

“Sure,” Varian said, grabbing for another book and flipping it open to the index.

“I’ll come to get you when the food’s done,” Eugene said. Varian looked up at him with a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Eugene,” he said. Eugene smiled back.

“No problem, goggles.” After he left, Varian went back to reading. The one in his hands quickly turned out to be useless, so he pushed it aside with the others and picked up a new one.

“Come on,” he muttered as he flipped it open to the section on enchanted sleeping spells. His heart sunk as he saw yet another page explaining acts of true love- but it lofted again when he spotted a little three next to one of the words. “A footnote!” he said, excited. He scanned the text at the bottom of the page until he found the three.

“‘For a potion to reverse the effects of a sleeping spell, turn to the potions section- located on page fifty three.’ yes!” he grinned, practically vibrating as he flipped through the book. Quickly skimming the page gave him all the information he needed to make the potion. He grinned. “I found it, Ruddiger!” he said to the raccoon, who chittered and crawled onto his shoulders as he stood. He put a paper in the book to mark the page, and ran from the room.

He wanted to get the potion done as soon as possible… but first, he had to see Rapunzel. Once he arrived, he poked his head inside and found it empty, except for the princess, and Pascal, who was sitting by her side on the bed.

Eugene must have come to relieve Lance and the girls already, he thought, stepping in. he crossed the room to Rapunzel’s bed and kneeling in front of it, placing his arms on the surface.

“I think I found a way to wake her up,” he said to Pascal. The chameleon immediately brightened (literally- he could have sworn he turned a shade or two brighter green) and Varian smiled. “I have to get the ingredients first, but it’s not hard to make.” stood, puffing his chest out. Varian looked at him, confused for a moment before realizing what Pascal was trying to tell him. “You want to come with?” he asked. Pascal nodded, and Varian grinned. “Well, welcome aboard!” he held out a hand, and the chameleon crawled onto it and crawled up to his shoulder with Ruddiger.

Before he left, he looked down at Rapunzel and hesitated for only a moment before lifting her up gently and giving her a tight hug.

“Hold on just a little longer Rapunzel,” he whispered into her shoulder. “Just a little longer, and we’ll have what we need to reverse the spell.” he laid her back down and left the room, determination filling him. This had to work- it just had to.

-(just a few moments after Varian left)

Eugene backed into the door, pushing it open, a tray of food in his hands. “Hey Goggles,” he called out. “You here? I got the food- even got some fruit for the frog and an apple for Ruddiger.”

“Eugene?” a voice that was definitely not Varian’s said. Eugene slowly turned around, and was met with his wife sitting up in bed and watching him, a soft smile on her face.

“Rapunzel!” he said, his face breaking into a smile. He barely remembered to put the food down before running across the room, throwing his arms around her. “You’re awake!”

She giggled, hugging him back. “I’m awake,” she agreed.

Eugene pulled back, though keeping his hands on her shoulders. “Not that I’m not grateful, but… how?” he asked. “The act of true love was the only way we knew- and it didn’t work.”

“I actually have an explanation for that!” Rapunzel grinned. “There was a really nice person in that dreamscape I was in- they said that the act of true love had to be one that was platonic. Like, friendship.”

“Ah, that makes sense!” Eugene grinned, though he still looked puzzled. “So… who was it?” he asked. Rapunzel’s smile grew softer.

“It was Varian,” she said. “I could hear him, in the dreamscape- and I felt his hug.” she brought a hand to her chest. “I felt a warmth, right here, and I could feel his arms around me. OH!” she grabbed Eugene’s shoulders, her expression becoming urgent. “We have to go stop him! He’s about to go get ingredients for a potion that was supposed to reverse the effects!”

“Come on then!” Eugene whisked her off the bed, dropping a kiss onto her forehead as he did so. Together, they rushed down to Varian’s lab.

-

Varian ran back and forth across his lab, picking up various flasks and containers to store the ingredients in and putting them in his backpack. He also dropped in some of his alchemy solutions and creations, in case he needed them.

“Okay,” he said, shuffling through it. “I think that’s everything we'll need! I just need to get my cloak. Now where is it…” as he looked around his lab, he heard the creak of the door opening and footsteps coming down the stairs. “Hey Eugene,” he said, spotting the cloak and crossing the room to grab it. “I think I found a way to wake Rapunzel- Ruddiger, Pascal and I are about to get the ingredients I’ll need.”

“Varian,” an achingly familiar voice said, laughter in their voice. Gasping, Varian spun around and saw Eugene and Rapunzel standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Rapunzel?” he whispered. Rapunzel nodded, and Varian rushed forward and into her arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said, after pulling back. He looked at her quizzically. “But… how did you wake up? Except for the potion, you can’t wake up unless you’re given an act of true love.”

“I was!” Rapunzel said, beaming. “You gave me an act of true love!” Varian took a step back, eyes widening.

“But- I mean, I love you, but I don’t-” he looked at Eugene, alarm filling him. “Eugene, I swear I don’t-”

“It’s okay, Goggles,” Eugene said, chuckling. He put a hand on Rapunzel’s shoulder. “Blondie, you can’t stop there- you need to explain a little further.”

“Right,” Rapunzel said, blushing. “Sorry, I got excited. The act of true love has to be platonic,” she explained to Varian. “Not romantic. It has to come from someone I’m not romantically involved with.” she smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It was your hug that woke me up.”

“Wow,” Varian said faintly, as Pascal came across the floor on Ruddiger’s back. Ruddiger crawled onto Varian’s shoulder as Rapunzel picked him up and held him close to her face, giggling as he hugged her cheek.

“I missed you too buddy,” she said, kissing his head. After transferring him to her shoulder, she put an arm around Varian, and stuck her other through Eugene’s arm. “Let’s go find Lance, Angry, and Catalina,” she said, pulling them both to the door. “I want to see them.” They found the family easily- they were still in the kitchen, eating. When Rapunzel walked in, both girls gasped and rushed to her, latching onto her waist.

“You’re awake!” Catalina said, grinning. Rapunzel laughed, squeezing them both.

“I am,” she agreed. After they released her, she was swept into a hug by Lance. She hugged him back, the smile never leaving her face.

“Glad you’re back, Rapunzel,” he said, with a grin equal to hers.

“I’m glad to be back,” Rapunzel said, as they separated. She looked from him, to Eugene, to Varian, and to the girls, her eyes bright with emotion. “I love you guys, so much,” she said. “I’m so lucky to have a family like you.” she spread her arms out, grinning widely. “Group hug!”

Angry and Catalina dove in immediately, relatching themselves to her waist. Varian put his arm around her and placed the other on Angry’s shoulder, a little smile on his face. Eugene and Lance stood on the outside, hugging everyone in their little group- including each other. Ruddiger chittered, grinning at Pascal (who had crawled onto Rapunzel’s head). The chameleon smiled back.

For a girl who had grown up alone in a tower, with only a cold woman who only cared for her power as a mother… she sure had a big, loving family.

[champion-of-thedas]

The Negative Arc of Ennio Salieri

After this past chapter of Eating Alone, I’ve thought a lot about Don Salieri and how I’m interpreting and writing him. Just a warning but this is going to be a loooong post. I actually rewrote it because I thought it was too long, and it still is lol.

I’ll start with a quick explanation of the negative arc for those not into lit analysis. Feel free to ignore this paragraph if you’re already familiar. The negative arc tells the story of a character that ends the story in a worse place than where they started. I would argue that many Mafia stories have these (Vito Scaletta being the foremost one that comes to mind). There are three kinds of basic negative character arcs: the Disillusionment arc (I’d argue this one for Vito), the Fall arc, and the Corruption arc. I feel the Salieri goes through the fall arc, which goes as follows: character believes lie, character clings to lie, rejects new truth, believes stronger or worse lie.

Let’s talk about the truth and the lie of this tale. The lie that Salieri believes is that he is better than Morello, which he has three reasons for. Those qualifiers that he sets up for being ‘better than Morello’ are being a competent business man, a father to his men, and a pillar of the community. We, of course, know he is exactly like Morello when the chips come down to it, but this is the lie Ennio convinces himself with (and does so for others as well). There is a slow decline over the chapters where his humanity hinges on two touchstones: Frank Coletti and Marcu Morello. These events are what challenge the lie.

Let’s look at how the lie is established and how he is presented in the first part (referring to the five groups of four chapters between the diner book ends). He wants to help out Tommy by giving him a loan and tell Morello that he can’t hurt the regular people in Little Italy, projecting a certain ideology to Tommy and the rest of the trio gathered. After Tommy and Paulie burn down the parking lot, Salieri talks about how Morello’s anger will burn out his brain (words implying that he’s like a child). Then, Salieri gives his rules for the neighborhood: no swearing (a very parent like guideline), no drugs (pillar of the community), and be careful with the police (trying to show caution instead of aggression; also gives the impression of ‘local, mom and pop’ compared to big shot Morello).  Next chapter he has Paulie and Sam show Tommy the ropes and gives explicit instructions not to be rough with anybody, although he probably was well aware that would happen anyway. Plausible deniability and showing how he “cares” for his community. Because we, the player, have very little evidence to contradict this notion, we are not aware of the lie that Salieri believes, but we do get to see the conviction with which he believes it.

The lie gets fleshed out with fair play. He is still concerned with his lie considering his conundrum with how to treat the other driver (Morello didn’t have the same concern and faced no consequences so either he has friends at the track too or that was never actually a problem), and he mentions how a lot of people in the neighborhood come to him for financial advice. The fact that he does this is meant to illustrate both his competency as a business man and the fact that the community trusts him. We skip ahead at to Better Get Used To It, and he is full of apparently righteous fury at the treatment of Sarah. He talks about how she is a daughter to him (father) and how people won’t protected by them and they’ll lose business, but if you stick around a minute you hear his rant about the hotel and how he feels like certain things are falling apart. Here and when they find out about Ghilotti in the next chapter, Salieri is furious, but it comes from his business sense. He is still concerned about the health of his organization, but it does foreshadow Salieri’s temper and ruthlessness when things don’t go his way. His behavior, especially when it comes to the hotel, indicates that he can be vengeful when the chips are down. Ultimately, this is still reinforcing the lie, but it allows us to see the cracks in it.

Here is when things start to get juicy and where Salieri chooses to cling to the truth. At the very beginning of part three, we get a long conversation with Frank. This is a meaty conversation, especially for the insight it gives into Salieri. Up until now, this kind of behavior has only been hinted at, never confirmed. We start off the next chapter with Frank mentioning that Salieri has been going over the books with him AGAIN. It’s a throwaway but becomes important later as it hints that Frank isn’t the person that botched that chapter’s job. His calm demeanor during the conversation is him still staying calm and business like but reflective. It is the opposite of the way someone would be expected to behave when they find out they’ve been betrayed. His contemplative nature and reflection on the dog, then calling his child self stupid, is him clinging to the truth. He’s saying, “I’m not that person anymore. I’ve grown.” Considering how Salieri (and even Tommy during the conversation with Norman) portray Morello as childish during conversations, establishing his maturity is important to Salieri. Tommy’s conversation with Frank has him talking about he is tired of waiting for Salieri to kill him, telling the player that if Salieri’s most trusted feels this way. The rest of part 3 is largely him continuing businesslike behavior (introducing Tommy to the safe cracker and the whole thing with Paulie and the whiskey deal), which is him trying to return to normal, like the whole thing with Frank never happened.

Then, the third intermezzo happens. So, a huge aspect of negative arcs is the fact that the character will have the opportunity to see the truth on multiple occasions and cling to their lie until the turning point occurs (which is different depending on the type of arc). Intermezzo 3 actually shows hints of it when we hear a very important line from Tommy: “And Salieri, he finally start talkin’ about gettin’ outta Morello’s shadow. Maybe buyin’ our own cops, our own politicians.” Salieri at this point, is continuing to act on the idea that he is better than Morello, but he’s moving himself to the point where he’ll be forced to see the truth. I won’t go further with this too much, but part four is just riddled with Salieri clinging to this idea that he’s better than Morello as time and time again things go wrong or they go right. His opportunities to see the truth come in the form of the violence he or his men inflict (in particular the occasion with Carlo) and the sheer amount of destruction that he orders. Note that the sheer violence of the war is staggering, and it starts because Salieri makes arguably a reckless move by putting a judge on the take without checking (at least checking well) if this person is on Morello’s take. Whether or not this would have happened with Frank, we wouldn’t know, but Salieri’s ambition starts one thing. Salieri might still not see the truth, but, if they couldn’t before, the player can. The biggest piece of foreshadowing in this part is the last line. “See you on the other side Marcu.”

The seeing the truth and rejecting it happens off screen. I’ve talked about what I think the turning point for Salieri and Tommy’s relationship is, and I feel like the rejection of the truth comes when Salieri finds out about Frank. In great contrast to all conceived previous behavior, Salieri has Frank and his entire family killed. During the first conversation with Frank, Salieri only specifies something should happen to Frank (and this is in contrast to the original game where he wanted to provide for the Collettis after Frank’s death). He has a moment where he could show mercy, leave Frank alone or just leave his family alone, and this is a direct hit to his lie, that he is better than Morello. At this point... Who does he have to be better than with Morello gone? He doesn’t have a person to compare himself to that makes him question his anger and he directs his wrath from there. Frank is a traitor, Morello is dead, Tommy is a traitor, Paulie is useless, and Sam is a soldier. He has no equal and no protégé. His lie is no longer that he is better than Morello. His new, worse like is that he is better than everyone, and this time it is not morally. He is in charge. Tommy talks about how Salieri acted like they “owned the whole damn town”, but it was really that he owned it. He didn’t have to bother with putting on airs after this. This is why the three stipulations dissolve. After election campaign, he loses some of the father to his men by deliberately leaving out information about the job and not worrying about the health of “his boys”. He’s bringing dope into the community, not worrying about his position as a pillar of it. The business sense stays only because it is his business that makes him better than other people. Even then, that goes a little bit out of the window when vengeance (because Sam never got information that Tommy and Paulie weren’t planning on cutting them in after the fact, either Sam or Salieri assumed) became more important and he decided to get rid of some of his most successful soldiers. We still see the truth in the end, that Ennio Salieri is exactly like Morello, but he was ultimately blind to it.

[gustafsnightangel]

Shattered Lives Ch 36 Pt 1

The days between moving in with Gustaf and New Year’s Eve were filled with never ending chores, because despite Gustaf wanting her to relax and take it easy, Sildie wanted her apartment done. Boxing up the remaining things she put them in storage, still not at ease with getting rid of anything just yet. The hard reality of what if they split still plagued her mind, once bitten twice shy. She had to keep it real, had to think of the long term back up plan in case it all went to hell in a hand basket, especially with four children in the mix. Even more of a chore was deciding on whether to keep the furniture or sell it, what to do with the apartment, did she leave it all as it was or rent it out, sell it, renovate it? Then there was the unpacking of all her stuff in Gustaf’s apartment, their apartment, cleaning, trash pick up, the list never ended. She’d come to the realization moving just sucked.

“Ok stop.” He said one night as they sat for tea and pulled her into his lap. “You haven’t stopped all day. Let it be.” He grabbed and kissed her fingers as she went to tidy up the stack of papers on the table and secured her body to his by wrapping those outrageously long limbs around her and kissing her neck.

“Sorry, I just wanted to get it all done so we can enjoy the New Year’s Eve party.” She huffed.

“You keep running around like this you won’t make it to the party because you’ll be exhausted and asleep by seven.” He kissed her neck and bit down gently. “Let it be.” He growled as she struggled against him to free her arms so she could just tidy up those papers and be done. “We can deal with the rest after January second.” He would stipulate a time as well if required.

“Fine.” She sighed and gave up, relaxing into him. “I just wanted it clean.” She mumbled taking a sip of her tea when he finally let her go, pushing those papers further away from her, she wasn’t going to budge him on it. He was right of course, she’d been hell bent on getting everything squared away before the end of the year. “I just want to start fresh next year.”

“I get it love, I do, but I also want to see you relax.” He kissed that one spot below her ear that made her weak for him.

“That’s not playing fair.” She sighed, that clever mouth bringing her undone.

“Didn’t say anything about playing fair.” He chuckled. “Ready for the party?”

“I guess, just nervous. It’s your family and we’re leaving the kids there overnight.” She was terrified, first night away with grandpa and she had all sorts of horror stories running through her head.

“The kids will just be upstairs with dad, they’re close and with someone I trust emplicitly.” Stellan and Megan had jumped at the chance to have the kids stay over. “I think Valter is staying as well so Brendan will have someone older to hang with and Oona is staying over to hang out with Lily.” He sipped his tea and squeezed her to him.

“I know I just worry.” She mumbled, feeling a little stupid.

“It’s your job, but don’t, they’ll be fine. It’s not like they have far to come if they need us.” It was handy that his dad lived in the same building a few floors up.

“What time’s the party?”

“Starts at six and goes all night, we can disappear whenever.” He kissed her neck and sucked on her pulse. “You and I are going to have an adult New Years.” He growled, her sinful giggle made his cock twitch, he had a plan, an erotic one.

“Are we now?” She leaned back into him and snaked a hand up the back of his neck and onto his scalp, toying with the soft dusting of hair, he’d let it grow out over the holidays.

“Mmm hmmm. We’re taking this year out with a bang.” He smirked against her skin.

“Oh god Gustaf that was terrible.” She scoffed and laughed at his pun.

“Yeah, but accurate.” He kissed her temple and sipped his tea. “I also booked the cabin for January 4 through 15. A little longer than planned but the few extra days were free with the deal.”

“That sounds so good. The kids will love it. Anything we need to take care of first?” She turned so she was sitting sideways on his lap. The kids weren’t the only one looking forward to some time away. She wanted to decompress with just the six of them, giving the kids time to bond with Gustaf. It was important, for all of them.

“Just clothes and maybe some snacks, board games. There’s lots for them to do outside, but it might be good to have some indoor activities in case we get a storm. We’ll need something for them to do that’s not TV and video games.”

“It’ll be a good break. Give you boys some bonding time.” She kissed him sweetly.

“Yeah.” He smiled and hung his head thinking.

“It bothers you doesn’t it? The dad thing.” Her fingers trailed his scruff and he looked at her, those eyes of perfect blue, she drowned in them every time.

“Not bother, more, different, I just need to get used to the idea.” Her kiss was tender. “It sounds so weird to my ears.” He chuckled. “If that makes any sense at all.”

“I’ll talk to them.” She said gently.

“No.” He shook his head and kissed her hard. “No. Leave it alone. They need to do what feels right for them too love. It’s just not something I ever expected from the boys. Lily I can understand, she never knew Quinn, but the boys, it was a shock, still is.” He tangled his fingers into her hair and kissed her, long and slow. “We need time, that’s all.”

“Just know I’ll talk to them if it’s too much.” She wouldn’t see him wrecked over it, hurt over it.

“No.” He smiled at her. “That’s something we need to figure out for ourselves. The four of us need to be comfortable with it and work through the awkwardness of it.” He kissed her softly. “You can’t bail me out of this one love, and I don’t want you too, not if we’re going to be a family. It’s important to them and to me that we work through it no matter how much it terrifies the hell out of me.”

She studied that handsome face, her finger playing with his scruff. “You’re a good man.” He dropped his head and her hand cupped his cheek. “You are. Look at me.” She kissed him sweetly. “Not many would do what you’ve done for them. It makes you so special.”

“I love you, I love the kids. It’s pretty simple really.”

“Sweet man I know you do, and I hope you also know that we love you too, so much.” He kissed her, the slow devastating kiss of the only man that could render her incoherent.

“My goddess, you and the kids are my world.” He rested his head against hers. “It’s been a good year. Sure there’s been some shitty bits in there, but I met you. You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me love.”

“A crazy woman who blubbers in your lap after sex, with four kids in tow.” She chuckled. “Yeah, the best.” Her tone thick with sarcasm.

“Wouldn’t change it for anything.” He grinned. “And I blubber, you fall apart.” He flicked her nose playfully.

“Me either.” Her chuckle light. “I think we make a pretty good team.”

“We do.”

“So confident.” She giggled.

“Just calling it how I see it. You make one kick ass mum you realize that right?” He said softly.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” She scoffed.

“Don’t sell yourself short. Four happy kids after what they’ve been through, that’s pretty fucking phenomenal.” Yes he knew he’d been a part of it, but she needed to hear it. Their lives had turned to shit in a blink, she had brought them to a place where they were thriving. He tried to keep the nudge out of his tone, the one that told her he wanted kids with her. Not your choice mother fucker, he cautioned silently, leave it there. He would not manipulate her no matter how much he wanted it. “Come on.” He said tapping her thigh and squeezing. “Bed, sleep. We’ve done enough for the day and I have a need to hold you close.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit either.” She said softly as she stood and took the teapot to the sink.

“You did all the hard yards love. Take a moment here and there to look at them, really look at them, they’re happy. Sure they’re still grieving and will continue to, but they’re happy.” He tucked a wave of copper over her ear. “You did that, you should be proud of it. Especially as there are so many other ways it could have turned out. Take the win love, you deserve it.” He kissed her sweetly.

“But you’ve helped where I couldn’t, you give them the missing pieces.” She kissed him tenderly. “Remember that ok?”

“I’ll remember. Bed. Come on.” He took her hand in his and tugged it to get her moving.

They snuggled in bed, Sildie almost passing out as her head hit the pillow. Sleep always took her hard, or maybe that was because she didn’t stop during the day, he thought with a wry smile. He let his mind wander as his fingers stroked her head, lips kissing her brow, breathing in her scent soothed him.

The last few days had settled him once he realized Lily was safe and Ana wasn’t going to get through the front door. His nightmare had scared him to the deepest parts of his soul, the thought of losing Lily, any of the kids had him rethinking his life. It wasn’t just him now, he had a family, responsibilities, that if he fucked up, they would feel the repercussions. He would be better, work at being a better man for them.

Next year would be busy, twelve week shoot starting in February, a premier, and hopefully more work. Maybe he’d take something closer to home, he thought, it caused him physical pain to think about being away from them for so long. They’d figure it out, they’d make it work, it was just going to tear at him.

He was hoping Sildie took the partner offer, she’d worked hard for it and wasn’t going to let anything get in her way if she decided to take it. A nanny, a housekeeper, something to take the load off when he wasn’t here. His mind chewed it over, flitting from one idea to the next until he drifted. His last conscious thought before joining Sildie in the sleep world was of a brood of kids of their own, it was often on his mind. The heart wants what the heart wants.

“Ok Lily, I’m coming. Good grief.” Sildie groaned as Lily screamed her head off through the monitor.

“Uk?” Gustaf mumbled as she pulled away from him.

“Yeah I’ll get her I’m awake now anyway.” She grumbled.

He watched her pull her robe on, the silk hiding all those delicious curves, and grinned into the pillow. The things he was going to do to her tonight, he mused as he listened to Sildie soothe Lily through the monitor.

“Lily bear, my goodness.” She cooed picking up the screaming child.

“Mum mum mum.” She sobbed as she snuggled in and hiccuped, the tiny girl was well beyond it. “Let’s get you cleaned up huh? Then some snuggles?”

“Mum mum mum.” She was a hot mess, tears and snot, that little flushed face.

“Yeah yeah, I’m here.” She sighed as she cleaned her up and dressed her in some warmer pajamas. “Were you cold little lady? Hmmm? Is that what it was? Cold and needed a snuggle?” She sat in the rocker and tucked the blanket in around her as she curled her in.

He hugged his pillow and smiled at the softness in her voice. There was no doubt in his mind she’d be a good mother, if she could only hear herself with Lily, with the boys. Getting her to see it for herself without pushing was another story.

“And you’re not going to drop any hints either asshole. Her body, her decision.” He mumbled to himself. “God I want kids with you.” He whispered into the dark as Sildie started to hum to Lily.

Pulling the covers back he climbed out of bed and found some clean sweats. It was ridiculous to be up at 4 am when they had nowhere to be until 6 that night. Padding out to the kitchen he put the kettle onto boil and dumped the tea leaves in the teapot. After the tea had steeped he poured Sildie a cup and took it in with him to Lily’s room. He smiled at the sight, his heart melting and constricting all at the same time. His two best girls fast asleep in the rocking chair. Placing the tea down he took a throw from the bed and covered Sildie up, propping her head up with a pillow so she wouldn’t get a crick in her neck. He took her tea back to the kitchen, closing the door behind him.

Drinking his tea alone he had something to eat before heading into his workout room to burn off some energy, hopefully he’d be able to nap later in the day. Slipping on the gloves he started out light, letting his body warm up before going a full hour until his muscles screamed at him.

There was no anxiety, no anger, just the ebb and flow of thoughts and ideas. Things he needed to do next year in his career, with the kids, Sildie, his life had changed, dramatically, from single to father of four. He stopped suddenly and tapped the bag lightly with a fist thinking as it swayed.

“I guess this is how you feel my lovely lady.” He murmured to the bag as he thought on that epiphany some more. “Drowning doesn’t seem to cover it.” He muttered. “Single to father of four.” Maybe that was why the whole dad thing was brutally overwhelming him, he thought, maybe it had been too much, too soon. “Single to father of four.” He repeated and continued with his workout.

His thoughts drifted to their future, what he wanted, what he wanted to give them, provide for them. Sure, he wanted kids of their own, and that decision was out of his hands, at least for the moment. The punch landed softly when marriage fluttered into his mind, he still wasn’t sure if she’d want to be married, or if he was even ready to take that plunge again.

His first marriage wasn’t bad, it wasn’t a picnic either with his addiction hanging over them both like a consistent third partner in the relationship. That was half the problem, their relationship was already on shaky ground before it had even had the chance to grow, to flourish. “I’m a different person now.” He muttered, and he was, he was clean and sober for a start. He’d disassociated himself with toxic people, mainly Ana, but there were more. Greedy, lecherous people only interested in him for what he was, his fame, or money, or his family connections. That’s where Sildie was different, she saw him for who he was, fucked up bits and all. Yes, he was different, he’d changed, and had the most incredible woman in his life. “Next year.” He said softly. “Sometime next year I’ll be asking you.” He grinned. He just had to figure out if it was something she wanted. “That’ll give me something to plan while I’m on set.” He chuckled.

Ripping the gloves off he sat for meditation and let his body relax, inviting the calm in. His breathing leveled out from the exertion and the peace flooded into him. This was a peace he’d fought hard for and a peace he was only able to obtain because of Sildie. She hadn’t given it to him directly, she’d given him understanding, support, and compassion. She’d given him a reason to be a better person, a reason to fight his demons after Ana, because if he was being honest, that fucking bitch had almost put him in the bottom of a bottle again. He’d been teetering on the edge when he’d save a few wayward oranges on Sildie’s threshold.

This year had taught him a lot and given him much more. He’d had his bad days, but the good ones had outweighed those dramatically. Most of all he’d stayed sober, he’d stayed clean, and his state of mind was clearer than it had ever been. Calm and peace settled in his mind, and he’d not been at peace with himself like this for a long time, if ever.

Getting to his feet he wiped down the bag and stowed his gloves before heading for a shower. By the time he surfaced in clean sweats and a t shirt, the boys were at the kitchen island for breakfast.

“Where mum?” Brendan asked as he started making pancakes, Gustaf’s lips twitching a smile at his endearment for Sildie.

“She’s curled up with Lily in the rocker. Lily woke up screaming at four this morning.” He yawned, putting the kettle on to heat up for a fresh pot of tea.

“Ouch.” The teen winced.

“Yeah. It was a little rough.” Gustaf chuckled. “Let them sleep, we’ll stick to quiet time this morning ok?” He looked at the twins and they nodded.

“Can we play Harry?” Finn asked as he snatched a hot pancake from the plate.

“Volume down low and we might go for a walk later, get out for a bit if the weather is good, so no grumbles when we do ok?” Both boys nodded, they knew the rules, grumbles meant shortened game time. “What about you B? What are you up to today?”

“Chokladbiskvier, I thought we could take them to grandpa’s tonight.” He said flipping a pancake.

“Only if you want to, there’s no need to. My dad has the party catered.” Gustaf saw the kids eyes light up. “Christmas is for family, New Years is a little more of a party.”

“I want to.” The teen grinned.

“Then have at it. And. Yum.” He elbowed the kid playfully before pouring the water over the tea leaves.

“If I have time I might even make Kladdkaka.” Brendan said on the sly.

“Shit kid you’re killing me.” He groaned.

Once the boys had eaten and off to do their designated quiet time activity, Gustaf settled into the one seat with his book, content to have some down time of his own while his girls slept.

“Mum mum mum.” Lily said softly, tapping Sildie’s face with her tiny hand.

“I’m up.” Sildie said, inhaling sharply. “Hey there little lady.” Lily crashed into her and hugged her tight. Sildie smiled as she kissed the toddlers head. “Shall we get cleaned up and go have some breakfast?” She laughed as Lily bounced, happy and content on her lap with her usual chatter for her dad dad. Her ass was asleep and she smiled at the throw and pillow tucked in around her. Gustaf had obviously come to check on her at some point. With a clean Lily she shuffled out to the kitchen and a wonderful smell of warm cookies. Brendan had been cooking up a storm again and she was so thrilled for the boy, something that brought him so much happiness in a year where things had gone to shit in more ways than one. They’d all come a long way since their parents passed. Maybe Gustaf was right, maybe I am good at this mum thing, she thought and then snorted before kissing Lily’s head. It was only better because of Gustaf, she was drowning before he came along and swept her off her feet, cleaning pasta sauce from her floor.

He loved that look on her face, her body, she’d slept and slept hard, total relaxation. Saving his page he got up and wrapped his arms around her waist as she sat Lily in her high chair with a pancake.

“Morning lovely lady.”

“Morning.” She yawned. “Did you get some more sleep after this one made a ruckus?”

“No, but I’ll take a nap later.” He kissed her temple and let his hand wander under her robe out of the line of sight of the boys. He growled and palmed a breast gently. “Fuck I love the feel of you.” He nipped her ear as her soft moan escaped, that spot below her ear betraying her as he kissed it. “You might want to nap today, you’re gonna need every ounce of energy for what I have planned for you tonight kitten.” He murmured, turning her so she faced him. He gently gripped her chin and kissed her slowly, patiently devouring every inch of her mouth. She was breathless and struck mute by the time he let her up for air.

“I love it when you kiss me like that.” Her chest heaved, pussy throbbed, god she wanted him to bend her over the table and fuck her.

“I know.” He kissed her again tenderly. “Sit down I’ll get you some un mangled pancakes.” He chuckled at seeing Lily’s shredded breakfast on her high chair table, the child quite content making an absolute mess of herself and offering crumbs to Sildie.

The man certainly knew how to kiss a woman, she thought as she sat near Lily and watched Gustaf walk to the kitchen. How was it he made her tummy flip just by looking at those thighs, that ass, the roped muscle of his arms, those hands? Because you know what’s under all those clothes, the little devil on her shoulder whispered, and you like what he does to you, all of it. “Yes I do.” She muttered and smiled as Lily tried to feed her some squished pancake.

After Sildie had eaten Gustaf forced her into the one seat with her book. With his hands braced on the arms of the chair he leaned down and kissed her. “I don’t want to see you get out of that chair unless it’s for the bathroom.” He murmured and kissed her again. “Rest love, please. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends these past few days and I don’t want you burning out or getting sick.”

“Only if you rest too.” She trailed a finger down his jaw, over his scruff, along the column of his throat, before fanning out her fingers over his chest. That chest, she thought, all hers and damn it if she didn’t love curling into it, the safety and security she felt when she did.

“I’m going to entertain Lily, which is rest enough.” He kissed her again and left her to read.

She watched him stretch out on the floor, his body caging Lily against the corner of the room, she’d have to climb over him to get out. Looking around the apartment she smiled, the twins quietly figuring out the next puzzle on Harry Potter, Brendan in the kitchen baking, experimenting with whatever flavors he desired, happy. On the last day of the year, there was this surreal calm that had enveloped the apartment and the people in it, and she couldn’t deny that it felt really good. Gustaf was right, the kids were happy, she’d brought them to a place where they could be settled and start their life again. It wasn’t just her though, she thought, as she watched Gustaf. They were happy because of this gorgeous man laying on their floor playing with a child that wasn’t his by blood, but his in every way that mattered. He’d given them a home, a family unit.

I want more days like this, she thought, that was her goal for the coming year, more time with the kids, more time with Gustaf, more peace in their lives. What about making partner, the little voice in her head said softly, what about your dreams, your hopes? If Dana could manage her own firm and three kids with another on the way, I sure as shit can manage the four she handed me, she thought with an indignant huff. She’d thought about what Gustaf had said, get a housekeeper, a nanny, she didn’t have to do it on her own anymore so why make it harder on herself? A housekeeper would be helpful, laundry, pick the kids up, get dinner on, especially if she was working late, and especially when Gustaf was away. The only issue was cost, because she wasn’t going to expect Gustaf to pay for it all. Quinn and Dana had used one but they had dual income, maybe she could get Alice to come work full time? Do the half and half payments with Gustaf? “Now there’s a thought.” She mumbled and kept reading.

She was so engrossed in her book she didn’t notice Gustaf had fallen asleep until Lily started to get upset that dad dad wasn’t playing with her anymore. Sildie climbed out of the chair and lifted the child out from her makeshift compound. She took her to get changed and had Brendan watch her for a moment. Kneeling beside Gustaf she gently lifted his head and placed a pillow under it, grabbing the throw from the couch she covered him enough to keep his torso warm, he was out cold and she couldn’t bring herself to wake him.

“Sleep love.” She murmured, before collecting Lily from Brendan and sitting with the child to read to her.

He woke up with a tiny child using him as a jungle gym. The place was quiet apart from Lily chattering dad dad, how long had he been out? Those lips he craved pressed against his temple and he snaked an arm around Lily so she didn’t fall as she flopped over his hip with a giggle.

“Time to wake up sleepy head.” Sildie murmured, kissing his temple.

“Wow I bombed.” He yawned rolling to his back.

“You did. It’s nearly four.” Her chuckle was humorous.

“What! Shit!” He huffed. “Didn’t mean to sleep that much.” Scrubbing a hand over his face he sat up and pulled Lily into his arms, the child hugging her dad dad. “Did you get a nap?”

“Sort of, this one crashed out for about two hours. We snuggled.” She helped him to his feet and went to make tea as he wandered into the kitchen, Lily curled in, that wonderful cookie smell still lingering on the air.

“Damn those look good.” He said to Brendan at the sight of the chocolate coated Chokladbiskvier.

“These are for us, I packed up the rest for the party already.” Brendan said quietly.

“I can have one?” Gustaf grinned at him like the big kid he was at heart.

“Yeah.” B chuckled shyly, the teen was still getting used to having free reign of the kitchen.

“Yeah?” His eyes sparkled as Brendan pushed the plate over to him. Instead of taking one or two, Gustaf grabbed the entire plate and took it to the table.

“I meant one cookie.” Brendan laughed.

“Ahhh but you didn’t stipulate. I’m taking one. One plate, that just happens to have all the cookies on it.” He bundled the kid into him for a hug. “They look and smell divine. I won’t eat them all I promise.” He chuckled.

“You have to watch this one.” Sildie said to Brendan as she brought the teapot to the table.

“Apparently.” The kid laughed and hugged Gustaf tightly.

“Go take a shower and get cleaned up, make sure you’re packed for tonight.” Sildie said gently. “Finn, Liam, you too. Finish up your game, go pack and get cleaned up.”

“Mum mums cracking the whip.” Gustaf mumbled to Lily, kissing the girls head as he snagged a cookie.

“I heard that.” She scoffed and stared at him, the cheeky twinkle in his eyes made her smirk as she poured the tea.

“Keykey.” Lily chattered to Gustaf, her little hand squeezing in and out of a fist at the cookies.

“You want one?” Gustaf handed her half a cookie and she demolished it. “Chocolate fiend.”

“You good with her while I go shower?” Sildie said sipping her tea.

“Sure.”

“No more cookies.” She chuckled as that little hand reached out for another.

“I don’t blame her they’re really good.” He kissed Lily’s head and pushed the cookies away from her. He needed to stop eating them too or he’d end up the size of a house.

Sildie showered and dressed, hiding a new set of black lace under her dress. It was a simple figure hugging black wrap dress with a plunging neckline and knee high skirt, enough to have her man drooling before she set foot out the door. She topped it off with a string of moonstone beads.

“I’m going to take Lily’s por...” His sentence stopped there as he laid eyes on her, all wrapped up in black velvet.

“Going to take Lily’s what? Where?” She smirked biting her bottom lip wickedly.

He stalked across the floor, those long powerful legs eating up the hardwood flooring. Gripping her chin gently he looked at her, those ice blue eyes finding his from under her lashes. “That’s a very dangerous game to play kitten.” He growled, that low rumble making her pussy ache for him. His kiss was slow and sensual, yet demanding, his thumb gently prying her lip free from between her teeth. “One day you’ll tease me once too often.” He warned. Oh how he wanted it to be tonight, he thought, silently begging her to do it again.

She felt the power ripple off him, his presence unmistakable raw domination and she loved playing this game with him. Would he spank her tonight if she pushed him, she wondered? Her body betrayed her as a shiver skittered over her.

His low chuckle against her lips told her it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Finish getting ready kitten, I need to take Lily’s portable crib upstairs.” He murmured, lips ghosting hers seductively before he devoured her mouth, leaving her breathless. “I can’t wait to taste you.” He purred as he pulled away from her.

He left her dazed as he walked out of the room chuckling. Collecting Lily’s crib and the boys overnight bags he headed to his fathers. This would be a New Years she wouldn’t forget in a hurry, he’d make damn sure of it. A night to leave all the shitty bits of the past twelve months behind them and start fresh tomorrow.

By the time Gustaf came back for a shower the boys were dressed, and Lily had her sunflower dress on. It was a favorite of his, something he’d found on sale before Christmas and bought it on a whim. Simple yellow gingham with embroidered sunflowers along the hem, perfect for his little ray of sunshine.

She couldn’t help it. Biting down on her bottom lip she groaned softly as Gustaf came out of the bedroom a while later in black thigh hugging denim and a crisp white shirt. His eyes met her across the tops of the boys heads and she saw the smirk twitch at his lips, he knew what that shirt did to her. Moving over to her he pocketed his phone and keys before brushing her blood red stained lips with his thumb, prying it from her teeth again. “I’m not beyond putting you over my knee tonight kitten.” He growled before kissing her, slow and erotic as her system trembled. “Mmmm, you like the sound of that don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, because he knew damn well what the thought of it did to her.

“We need to go.” She choked, breathless and wanting.

“Yes we do.” He kissed her sweetly. “Were not done.” He growled as her finger trailed the patch of chest peeking out of his dress shirt. “Nowhere near done.”

“You’re not playing fair.” She murmured.

“All bets are off tonight kitten.” He nipped her ear playfully. “Nothing I do to you tonight will be fair, but you’ll be begging me to do it over and over again.” He added before stepping away and picking Lily up. “Well don’t you look like the little ray of sunshine you are.” He said kissing the girl until she giggled while Sildie attempted to get her hormones under control. Damn he knew how to get her going, and that shirt, she wasn’t going to be able to keep her hands off him.

They locked up the apartment and climbed in the elevator, Liam pushing the button to Stellan’s floor. “I like this dress.” Gustaf whispered, his hand cupping her ass giving it a squeeze.

“Then you’ll love what’s under it.” She purred, those eyes so seductive as he chuckled before kissing her.

“Fuck I love you.” He grinned, kissing her hard as the doors opened, that wicked smile of hers making his cock throb.

The front door was wide open, Megan greeting them and getting the kids settled, Lily was determined to stay with Gustaf for the moment and snuggled into his neck. Sweet girl I know how you feel, Sildie thought, that’s where I want to be snuggled right now too. Truth be told she wanted to get her hands on him and under that shirt, and he smelled so damn good, pure freshly showered male. With a squeeze of Gustaf’s hand she ventured into the kitchen with Brendan and the cookies, Eija wrapping the kid in an excited hug. Here we go, she thought, jump in the deep end, sink or swim with his family, because she couldn’t stay glued to Gustaf every time she was around them.

“You and I need to talk Kladdkaka.” She said lifting the lid of the container holding the cookies, snagging one and biting down. “God yes, and these.”

“About what?” Brendan asked looking slightly puzzled.

“If it’s ok with your mum I want to hire you to bake for my Sunday brunches.” She said digging out another cookie.

“For real?” Brendan’s eyes went wide as dinner plates.

“For reals kid. My brother told me you were good so I took a full Kladdkaka home with me from Christmas Day and fed it to my staff just to be sure. They asked when your first shift was.” Eija chuckled.

“But what about school and hockey?” He looked at Sildie for some help, way out of his depth, but not wanting to blow this chance.

“I think we can work something out.” Eija said gently. “We can do just the Sunday brunches for the moment, get your feet wet, see how you like it, how you go when school starts up. I can send you the order Monday, you send me the list of ingredients I’ll have them delivered. Don’t change anything from what you use now, that’s what makes it yours and special. Same brands, same everything, don’t change a thing. I was thinking you could cook Saturday and then let me know when they’re done and I’ll pick them up.”

“Every Saturday?” Brendan asked and felt his heart sink.

“No, we can do one weekend a month to start. I don’t want it to be too much. And the bonus is I’ll pay you.”

“Like a job?”

“Like a job dude.” She chuckled.

“Sick.” Brendan looked at Sildie. “Can I? Please?” Sildie could see him holding his breath, the excitement at the offer, his body vibrating.

“A few conditions. School comes first, your grades drop, you’re done. Just like hockey.” She said bluntly.

“No argument from me on that one.” Eija said honestly. “Your grades drop kid, I’ll kick your ass myself.”

“Ok, I figured that was a given.” Brendan chuckled.

“Eija’s the boss. You don’t get to tell her what you’re baking, she tells you.” Brendan nodded. “Half your pay goes into the bank, no exceptions. The other half you can save and spend on whatever you like, within reason.” She smiled at him. “Other than that if you want to give it a try, then do it. If you want to think about it, then take some time to think on it. It’s a huge deal, be sure it’s what you want before committing to it. That makes it fair for Eija as well.” She watched him chew on it. The kid wasn’t impulsive to start with, but she wanted to be sure he was thinking about things before making a decision.

“Can I think about it Aunty Eija?” He asked quietly.

“Of course.” She elbowed him playfully. “And it’s just Eija, the Aunty thing makes me feel old.” She chuckled.

“Oh, sorry.” He cringed, feeling he fucked up his chances right off the mark.

“It’s fine kid.” She hugged him tightly. “You weren’t to know.”

“I should have asked first.” He mumbled and Sildie ran her fingers through his hair to soothe.

“It’s ok love she’s not angry.” Sildie said softly.

“Live and learn slick. I don’t hate it, it just makes me feel old, like my brother.” She chuckled. “Alex is a dinosaur.” She said loudly, knowing her brother on the other side of the room heard it as his head snapped to her grinning, Brendan couldn’t stop the snort. “That’s just between you and me by the way.” She chuckled and smiled as the kid lightened up.

Valter came past and hijacked their conversation, stealing the teen away so he could help kick Finns ass.

“He’s a good kid.” Eija said when it was just the two of them, handing Sildie some champagne.

“Not for me, I don’t drink.” At least not anymore and especially when there was a gorgeous man in a white dress shirt just across the room making eyes with her. She wanted to be stone cold sober when he fucked her tonight, she wanted to remember it all. “He is. Brendan’s been through a lot, took a lot on when Quinn passed. They’ve never had aunts and uncles, grandparents. It’s all new for them. Your brother gave him back his childhood, and a family.” She said quietly and cracked the seal on a bottle of water, emotions bubbling up.

“Goose is a special guy.” Eija’s honesty struck a chord in Sildie’s heart.

“He sure is.” Sildie said wistfully as she watched Gustaf, that lean body moving so gracefully. His gaze eventually caught hers from across the room, probably sensing she was watching him. Biting down gently on her bottom lip she smirked as the fire lit in his eyes, could feel the growl ripple from him silently, her finger twirling the string of beads around her neck.

He had to check the audible growl, the overwhelming urge to storm over there, strip her down to the black lace he knew was under that plush velvet dress, and spank her until she screamed, begged him to take her.

“I’m glad he met you.” Eija said softly.

“He makes me ridiculously happy, makes the kids happy.” Sildie smiled.

“He deserves someone like you, Sildie. Someone that loves him for who he is, not what his occupation is, or who he can connect them with.” Eija’s voice caught with emotion. She knew her brother had struggled, with addiction, with Ana, with anxiety and anger. He’d finally met someone that loved him for everything he was and more.

“He’s a very sweet soul.”

“I heard about your work party.” Eija said carefully. “Gustaf talked to me, in case anything gets dragged up in the media.” She added seeing the anger flare in Sildie’s eyes, nervous fingers tapping the island countertop.

“Fair enough.” She banked the fury, this whole Ana thing was bigger than her and Gustaf, it touched this entire family, she thought as she looked at Alex. She had to remember that.

“For what it’s worth I’m sorry.” Eija said quietly.

“Eija you have absolutely nothing to apologize to me for. Or like Gustaf likes to tell me, you don’t get to apologize for her. Ever.”

“Well if you need a hand burying the body let me know, I’ll grab the shovel.”

Sildie snorted. “Gustaf was right, we are so alike.”

“Nobody fucks with my brothers, especially Goose. He’s been through too much.” Eija was scrappy, and that’s what Sildie liked about her. She spoke her mind, told it to you straight, no bullshit, and no fucks given if it hurt your feelings. And she was fiercely protecting of her brothers, especially Gustaf. “Is your friend going to be ok?” She asked. Sensitive and emotional under it all, but fierce. “The lawyer?”

“I don’t know, the last I heard from Lucas she was out on bail, I don’t know when or if a court date has been set yet with all the holidays. I’m hoping it’s just a quick hearing and he can move on.”

“Will you keep me in the loop?” She asked.

“Sure, as much as I can. Lucas can’t tell me much as it’s an ongoing investigation, but if I hear anything I can text you.” She studied Eija. “You want to see her go down in court don’t you?”

“You bet your fine ass I do.” Her tone full of fire. “I want to see her fucking face when karma pays that bitch a visit.”

“No outbursts, no contact, no disruptions. If you do it could hurt Lucas and potentially drag Gustaf and yourself into the middle of it.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely fucking right.” She sighed. “Damn it.”

“That’s what she’ll be trying to do. She wants a reaction, don’t give her one. Promise me Eija, or you’ll get no updates from me.” Eija could see she wasn’t fucking around. “It can get much worse from here, for you, Gustaf, me, my kids, I’m trying to stop that from happening.” Sildie needed to reign Eija in, if not things could get complicated.

“I promise. I want to know what’s going on but yeah, I get what you’re saying.” She looked at Sildie and saw the fear her brother had mentioned. “She won’t get near your kids Sildie. Goose won’t allow it.”

“I know, I’m more worried about what it’ll do to him.” She said softly, the terrified look in his eyes that morning he’d had the nightmare haunted her. “I can’t watch her shit storm take that peace he’s fought so hard for from him too.” Sildie looked at her and had to say it, just to be absolutely clear. “Don’t make me lawyer you. Because I’ll do it to protect those I love Eija, including you, especially your brother. He’s gone through too much to carve that bitch out of his soul, I don’t want this thrown in his face more than it has to be.” Memories of Gustaf burning the notebook flittered into her mind, the baby bootie.

“I don’t want this to hurt my brother either. You have my word, I’ll behave. I just want to see her go down.” Eija promised.

“I’ll see what I can do when or if it goes to trial. At the moment it’s just between Ana and Lucas. With a bit of luck we’ll be left out of it.” Wishful thinking, Sildie thought, but she had to hold onto something.

“Sounds good to me. Goose was right, you’re scary as fuck when the lawyer comes out.” Eija grinned.

“Oh, I can be scarier.” Sildie stated bluntly. “Gustaf knows just how scary.” She added thinking back to the night in his workout room where he’d spiraled and she’d let him have it.

“No doubt.” The muttered reply making Sildie smirk.

He watched her as she spoke to his sister, happy that they seemed to get along, admired Sildie for having the balls to clear the air with Eija on Christmas Day, that hadn’t been easy. His woman in black velvet, curves on full display, the way her fingers toyed with that damn necklace. She caught him staring, the shy smile with a hint of the erotic goddess he knew was under it all.

“You’re so fucking gone over her.” Bill snorted, playfully punching him in the shoulder.

“Yeah.” His goofy grin said it all, totally smitten. “And this one.” He added, as he picked Lily up when she wandered over to grab him by the leg. “My Lily bear.”

“She’s the cutest thing.” Alex said, coming over to stand with them. Lily eyed him and snuggled into her dad dad, she still wasn’t too sure of the oldest brother. She would be with time, Alex was just never home long enough for her to get used to him.

Sildie watched as Gustaf put Lily down, Oona waddling over and grabbing his leg, the two girls dancing and bopping at his feet. Her heart melted as he took a hold of Sam’s three month old, his hands dwarfing the baby, but it was his face that sucker punched her. Gustaf sat and cradled the baby, joy and adoration pouring from him. Did she want that with him, could she give that to him, she wondered, as the all familiar questions kept repeating in her mind like a cracked record?

They spent the early part of the evening apart, Sildie was determined not to hang on Gustaf like a lost puppy. She was a lawyer damnit and this was just his family. She had to get used to being around them, with them, and without Gustaf as a safety net. There would be times he would be away and they would visit, and she wanted to be comfortable visiting them, with or without the kids.

She smiled as Alex walked over and put Eija in a loving headlock, she missed that playfulness you could only get with a sibling. The both of them keeping her entertained and helping her to relax. Alex was reliving an exceptionally funny story when Gustaf caught her eye, that smoldering look that had her almost crossing her legs as her pussy throbbed. His gaze raked over her body, undressing her as it went, the heat rising in her. How did he do that, she wondered? Not to be outdone she nibbled on her bottom lip and saw the desire flash in his stare. Running her tongue over her lips she swore she heard his groan before he whipped out his phone. A moment later her text tone went off.

You’re playing a dangerous game kitten, unless you’re begging me to put you over my knee and spank you with an audience you need to stop.

She could practically hear the growl as the words leapt off her screen. Looking at him from under her lashes she bit her lip again and twirled a finger around the moonstone beads.

Promise?

She texted back and grinned wickedly.

He had to check the groan at her words, his cock twitching, he wasn’t going to make it until midnight if she kept up with her current sinful teasing, he was uncomfortably hard in his jeans as it was. Trying to have a conversation with his family while hiding a massive boner was difficult. Sitting on the arm chair he half tuned into the conversation, half watched his seductive goddess move through the room. Those curves, that mane of silk copper, those cherry red lips he wanted around his cock. The sight of her was seduction enough.

He watched her talk with his father, the slight shift in her emotions clear to him, but not anyone else. She was trying so hard to put her grief behind her and have a good night, making the effort to get to know his family where most others hadn’t bothered to take the time. First rule of the new year, he thought, love this woman with every part of my soul, every second of every day, show her how incredible she is.

“I’m sorry I upset you the other day.” Stellan said gently as he grabbed Sildie another water.

“You didn’t. I’m still processing a lot of grief, it gets in the way sometimes. If anything I’m the one that should be apologizing for running out of there so quickly, it was rude.” She’d felt bad after he’d helped them move the display cabinet that day.

“No need. You’re still finding your feet after the rug was ripped out from under you. It couldn’t have been easy with four kids on top of it.” Stellan watched her carefully, he didn’t want to dive into it too much and have her freak out.

“It’s no picnic.” She said softly.

“It’ll settle, give it time, lean on Gustaf, on us. We’ll do everything we can to make things easier on you and the kids, especially when Gustaf’s away. Anytime, day or night, Megan and I are just a short elevator ride away and she works from home most of the time.”

“Thank you.”

“I know Gustaf’s said it and I’ll say it too, you’re not alone anymore Sildie. This family sticks together, we help each other out. Sure we bicker and fight, but when we need to we rally, no questions, no judgement.” Stellan pulled Megan over for a kiss before they settled into a conversation about safer topics, his statement resonating with her, family, support, love.

She could see the pride Stellan had for his kids, what they’d accomplished, the lives each one of them had carved out for themselves. In the short time she’d been with his family, Gustaf resembled Stellan the most. That same warmth and kindness she felt with Gustaf she felt from Stellan, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. As they talked and each sibling drifted in and out of the conversation she realized how much she’d missed out on growing up, how much she missed her brother, her parents. The slow seduction from across the room throughout the night was tantalizing. Those subtle suggestive looks, the nibble of her bottom lip, the flirtatious knowing smirk he’d give her as he blatantly undressed her with his eyes. It wasn’t until 11:30 and the younger kids had gone to bed, that Gustaf stole her away from talking to his father to dance, Stellan grinning as Gustaf waltzed her around the room.

“It’s a promise kitten.” He growled at her ear as he pulled her close and swayed, the soft jazz filling the apartment. “The things I’m going to do to you.” He dipped her slowly and kissed her throat. “I should punish you for tormenting me from across the room too.” His tone was that seductive timbre that made her pussy throb. “My sex kitten in black velvet.”

She bit down on her bottom lip to push the issue and he gripped it hard, borderline painful. It always amazed her at how he managed to skate that line between pleasure and pain so deftly. Still dancing he kissed her, slow, sensual, devouring. “Don’t push me kitten.” He purred, his lips ghosting hers as he let her chin go, fingers trailing her body to wrap around hers. “You may get more than you bargained for tonight.”

“God I hope so.” She purred, those ruby red painted lips kissing that one spot on his neck that turned him to mush. “I want to feel you daddy.” She whispered.

“We’re leaving the minute after the new year.” He dipped her again. “Because I can’t wait much longer to have you. Dancing and teasing is one thing, but I want you bound and begging.” He kissed her, tongue teasing hers. “And you will be begging.”

“You keep kissing me like that and we’re not going to make it home.” She muttered as he held her close. His low chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest.

“You’ll make it home, I don’t want an audience when I fuck you slowly until you scream my name.” He felt the shiver ripple through her body, now doubt in his mind she’d be wet for him. “I’m going to take my time with you, tie you up, take you apart an orgasm at a time.” His kiss was slow and sinful and if he kept talking to her like this she was going to orgasm right in the middle of the party. “Mmm you like the sound of that don’t you kitten?”

“You know I do.” Her gaze found his, the seductive blue looking back.

“Just say the word and we’ll go.” He smirked, knowing she’d want to dance some more and see midnight, time was it’s own seduction. He twirled her around the room, content to feel her let go and have fun. This was the happiest and most carefree he’d ever seen her.

“I see where you get your jazz gene from.” She chuckled, she had to change the topic or she’d embarrass herself. “Your dad has good taste in music, that’s what we’re were talking about before you whisked me away.” She laughed as he dipped her low.

“Fuck me I love that laugh.” He murmured, his lips grazing her temple as he grinned like a fool. “Dad and I are a lot alike.”

“You are. You have the same smile.” She said softly and kissed those lips she craved. “The same kindhearted soul.” He looked at her, eyes drowning in hers.

“It takes like souls to see each other.” He tucked a wave of copper behind her ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too sweet man.”

Gustaf closed his eyes and swayed with her, the joy and happiness on her face as he held her close, the tender touches as they talked and got lost in each other. He was, as Bill had put it, gone over her, so completely. This was what he wanted of for her, the happy bubble, he’d see she got more of it.

“My Sildie.” He murmured as the countdown to midnight started. “You’re the best thing to come into my life.” He rested his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for walking into mine, into ours, you are my everything love.” She felt so at peace with him, the world on the cusp of a new year, new beginnings, a fresh start. As the clock chimed midnight he kissed her, slow and long, a silent promise that he would take care of her, take care of the kids, become the family he so desperately wanted with her, and they so desperately needed from him.

“Sweet man, I love you.” She whispered, before deepening the kiss. She wanted him, this, family, the feeling of being loved for who she was, baggage and all.

“I love you too.” He squeezed her tightly and danced her around the room. “Now those are the best first words of the new year.” He chuckled and dipped her, that laugh making him deliriously happy.

“There’s so much love in this room.” She said softly as they swayed, the slower song drifting them along with it.

“As family should be love.” He smiled kissing her head and breathing in her scent.

“Thank you.” She murmured.

“What for?”

“For giving me a family.” She whispered and closed her eyes, the stray tears falling as he danced with her cheek to cheek.

“Don’t cry love.” He kissed each cheek, the saltiness of her tears making his heart break.

“Sorry, they’re mostly happy tears.” She chuckled.

“It’s ok to miss them love.” He murmured kissing her tenderly. She was happy, yes, but the undercurrent of grief made things more difficult for her.

“I just hate when it bubbles up like this.”

“Better it bubbling up than holding it in.” He said gently, which he knew she did on a daily basis. She held so much of it in it was a wonder she could hold it together at all, he’d be a wreck. “Talk to me love.” He leaned back slightly as they continued to dance so he could see her face. “It’s New Year’s Eve, air out the mental laundry.” Her laugh was more a snort.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” She scoffed

“Try.” He whispered before dipping her low.

“It sounds silly.” And she wasn’t sure of what his reaction would be.

“So let it sound silly.”

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden @nandadb

[becarefuloflove]

Life as We Know It- Rowaelin AU

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Chapter 2: Surprises 

AELIN

Aelin hears Rowan’s door open the same time as hers. He gives her a small nod by way of greeting, but she pretends not to see behind her glasses and walks toward the house.

Beyond the curving driveway, the front porch is dominated by enormous columns. Two parallel rows of windows line the entire front facade. Nehemia had always loved the sunlight, and from the few times Aelin had come to stay at their house in the past, there was nothing more beautiful than watching the sunrise filter in through the front windows in the mornings, and then watching the sun set behind the mountains from the back porch.

Aelin’s feet wobble as she climbs the stairs, and she grabs the railing to steady herself. This is probably the last time she will ever step foot in this house again.

“Are you drunk?” she hears from behind her.

She whirls to face him. “Yes, yes of course. I am wasted and drove here drunk off my ass the day after my best friend was murdered by a drunk driver. Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Rowan puts his hands up in apology. Aelin notices the darkness under his eyes and his crooked tie, but can’t bring herself to feel anything. She turns back around and marches up the remaining steps and knocks on the door, hearing Rowan silently come up to stand behind her.

A woman in a gray suit opens the door. “Ahh, Ms. Galathynius, Mr. Whitethorn, welcome, come in. I have everything inside.” Aelin hesitates for a minute before stepping in. She recognizes the woman from work, Kaltain. They don’t interact much since Aelin handles criminal cases and this woman focuses on family and children. But she doesn’t bring it up, so Aelin doesn’t either. They silently move from the front foyer to the back of the house. They walk by rows of pictures- Nehemia and Vaughn’s wedding, which feature a younger, happier Aelin, beaming beside her best friend. Sam’s in one of the shots too, and Aelin has to force herself to look away before she breaks down again. But it’s the pictures toward the end of the hall, right before it opens up to the back half of the house that makes Aelin stop dead in her tracks.

“The girls. The babies, where are they? Are they ok?!” Aelin can’t believe she forgot to ask about Nehemia’s twin daughters, who were her god-daughters. She’d been too busy, too caught up in her own head. She was a horrible person.

“They are fine, Ms. Galathynius. They were with a babysitter at the time of the accident and have since been placed with CPS- Child Protective Services.”

“Can I-” Aelin starts to ask, but Kaltain cuts her off.

“We’ll get to them in time, please take a seat so we can get started. There are some important things we need to discuss.” Kaltain goes to the dining table and sits down, gesturing for Aelin and Rowan to join her. They take the closest seats on either side. Aelin finally takes off her glasses, her feet bouncing up and down on the rug as she waits for the lawyer to begin talking.

“So first, I want to begin by saying how sorry I am for your loss. Losing one’s close friends is never easy, especially in circumstances like these. Nehemia and Vaughn left instructions on what to do in a situation like this- a worse case scenario in which both of them die. They spent most of their money on buying and renovating this house, they intended to use it as an investment property so not much remains. The money that does will go into a trust for the girls that they can access when they turn 18.”

“So where will the girls go in the meantime? Vaughn was adopted, and Nehemia had no siblings. Both their parents are dead.” Rowan asks matter of factly.

“That is where you two come in. In their will, Nehemia and Vaughn left custody of their girls, Orion and Azrael, to you, to both of you.”

Aelin lets out a strangled noise. “I’m sorry, there must have been a misunderstanding...we-” she says, pointing between her and Rowan, “aren’t married, or even together. We haven’t even seen each other in years.”

“Trust me, I tried to talk them out of this, but they both insisted that you two be the ones to have joint custody of the girls. Of course, if that’s not what you want, there are other options.”

At that, Rowan pushes his chair back with a loud squeak and stands up. “I-I need a minute. Please excuse me, I’ll be right back.” He walks toward the back door, fiddling with his collar as he goes, disappearing somewhere into the hedges in the backyard.

Aelin gets up too, and walks in the opposite direction, just so she doesn’t have an audience when she has a meltdown about this whole situation. Aelin as a mother is something she never imagined. Well, no, she had imagined it, with Sam. But that dream had died the night she’d lost him. She walks slowly back down the hall, but stops at the picture she’d rushed by earlier. It’s a candid shot of them laughing at a joke that Vaughn had made. Aelin can’t remember the joke now, but if she had to guess, it was probably some wild story from one of his photography expeditions. Nehemia is leaning into her new husband, grinning widely. Aelin’s head is half thrown back in laughter, resting on Sam’s shoulder as he stands behind with his arms around her waist. The other side of the picture features a lone figure- Rowan. His amusement is more reserved than the four of them, but he’s smiling as he leans one arm on Vaughn’s shoulder.

Aelin tears her eyes away and makes it back to the foyer. She makes it to the base of the stairs before falling onto the bottom one and putting her head in her hands. Reality crashes back into her- her best friend’s death, her godchildren being orphans, her becoming a parent with Rowan Whitethorn, OF ALL PEOPLE. “Is this some twisted joke?” she says to no one, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat that’s climbing higher and higher by the second. But as she’s trying to get her breathing under control, Aelin realizes this moment isn’t about her or her complicated feelings about motherhood, it’s about the people who need her most. She jumps up from the steps and rushes back to the dining room.

She gets there just as Rowan is walking back in.

“OK, I’ll take them.” she blurts.

His head whips to Aelin, but he doesn’t say anything. Aelin isn’t surprised, Rowan’s probably too concerned with his career to think about kids. She’s fine with that. Aelin’s used to doing things alone, and this will be no different. She could do it. She would do it, because she knows Nehemia would have done the same for her without hesitation.

“That’s nice Ms. Galathynius, but the Will stipulated that you and Mr.Whitethorn take this responsibility together. However, if you really want the girls and Mr. Whitethorn does not, then we can take this case before a judge and petition a change to grant you full custody.”

At that, Rowan finally speaks up. “Wait, wait. I never said I didn’t want the girls. They’re my god-daughters too, and Vaughn was like a brother to me.”

Could have fooled me, Aelin thinks, but decides not to make that comment public.

Kaltain sighs. “Well, there’s certainly a lot of paperwork to be done regarding this, and the Social Services department still has to formally assign one or both of you legal custody. So why don’t you two move in here, to this house, and keep the girls while you figure out what you’d like to do next. Someone from CPS will come by weekly to check in, and by the end of the month, you can make a final decision on how you’d like to proceed.”

“Move in….here?” Rowan asks. “But we both work in the city, and we already have our own places there.”

“Well, unless you plan to sell this house and both move into one of your apartments with the twins, I think it would be best to take advantage of the space here.”

Aelin’s one bedroom apartment is nice, but not at all suitable for babies, or Rowan for that matter. She releases an involuntary shudder at that thought. Then, she feels, rather than sees, Rowan’s eyes on her. How odd, she thinks, that she can sense his gaze so well. When Aelin turns to look at him, he seems to want to say something, but as the seconds tick by, nothing comes out. Kaltain sits patiently, looking between the two of them as she waits for a response.

“Let’s do it.”

ROWAN

24 hours ago, his life was normal. He was sitting in his apartment, putting the finishing touches on his first major story since moving to Terrasen. He was alone, but he preferred that solitude. He needed that solitude. After everything that had happened in the past 5 years, Rowan wasn’t ready to have anyone in his life. The scars were deep, and the wraiths from his past that still haunted his nightmares required his full attention to keep away. He didn’t have anyone in his life because he couldn’t. Anyone that saw him, the real Rowan Whitethorn, would run for the mountains and never return. Oh, and 24 hours ago, his best friend was still alive.

And now, standing at the front porch of Nehemia and Vaughn’s house with two suitcases of his belongings, he’s moving into a massive house with two babies and Aelin Galathynius. He didn’t know what had possessed him to blurt out “Let’s do it” a couple hours ago when the lawyer had looked to them for an answer. His own thoughts had been roaring so loud in his head when he first heard that Vaughn and Nehemia had named the two of them in their will that he needed to get out of the room, away from Aelin’s eyes which seemed to see entirely too much of him for his comfort.

It was such a Vaughn thing to do too. Vaughn who had been born somewhere in the Japanese Isles but left at an orphanage days later with no note or explanation. Who had, through a bizarre series of events, been adopted by a Wendlynan couple who were passing through the small town that day and discovered him on the stoop before the orphanage director had noticed the new arrival. The couple who had then moved next door to the house Rowan had lived in with his Aunt Maeve. Vaughn had become Rowan’s steadfast companion over the years and everything that happened within them. Vaughn had come into the world alone, but had left it with the deepest bonds. Already, the news of his and Nehemia’s death had broken on the morning news and the internet was full of stories and messages from all the people whose lives had been touched by Vaughn and Nehemia.

Just as Rowan is about to step in and close the door, he sees Aelin’s car pull into the driveway. When she makes it to the porch, he approaches her. “You need help carrying those in?”

Aelin gives him a glare, but then seems to deflate before simply nodding and stepping back to get her other suitcases. There’s four in total, and a couple of very heavy cardboard boxes.

“What could you possibly have in here?” Rowan huffs as he carries them up the stairs and into the house.

“My cases. I have two trials coming up, and still a fuck ton of work I need to get done.”

“Didn’t you just close that huge case with Arobynn Hamel? TNN was fucking chaotic that day, we changed our entire evening broadcast for it.”

Aelin looks at him at that. The kind of look Rowan imagines a deer caught in headlights receives. Blinding. Arresting. All-coherent-thoughts-in-your-head-emptying. There’s nothing to do but look back at her, and wait for the hit.

“Ha, if only we all lived in that kind of world Rowan. Put one guy away, a hundred more line up to take his place. Though sorry it ruined your show, didn’t mean to inconvenience you with my life’s work.” she finally spits out.

“So is this how it’s going to be for the next month?” Rowan huffs, running his hand through his hair before gripping it in frustration.

“Like what?” Aelin asks. “I’m just trying to move into my dead best friend’s house and try to raise two children with someone who is very obviously NOT my boyfriend or husband. I’m perfectly fine. Just a typical Saturday afternoon for me.”

Rowan sighs. “I don’t know what your deal is with me Aelin, but we have to live under this roof together. So how about you go about your business and I’ll go about mine, and we can both stay out of each other’s way.”

“You got yourself a deal, Whitethorn.”

***

A couple hours later, Rowan is waiting for the air mattress to finish inflating so he can lay down. He had offered the guest room to Aelin and she had taken it without a word. This left the downstairs couch or the air mattress in Vaughn’s office for Rowan. Of course there was the master bedroom, but it didn’t feel right for Rowan to be there. All of Vaughn and Nehemia’s things were still there and it felt too much like a mausoleum to be in there now.

When the air pump finally clicks off, Rowan throws a fresh sheet on top and immediately sinks into it. It’s not luxurious by any means, but he’s had much worse on some of his assignments around the world, so he can’t complain. “Hey, wake up. It’s time to get the girls.”

Rowan blinks and bolts awake. He looks up and sees Aelin standing in the doorway, phone in one hand, car keys in the other.

“Oh ok, yes, let’s go. I’ll drive.”

“Haha, no. Your two-door fancy pants car is not going to hold two car seats. And I don’t let anyone else drive my car.”

And so they get in and start the almost hour long drive to the courthouse to get the girls and sign the official papers. Both of them are too on edge to have a conversation, and Rowan is content to watch the suburbs disappear and the cityscape of Orynth come back into view from the window.

When they finally make it to the courthouse, he lets Aelin lead him in through the back entrance, which he suspects, by the multiple ID check points, is reserved for high level employees. Aelin claims it’s faster this way, but Rowan suspects it’s because she doesn’t want to see anybody right now or deal with their pitying looks.

Rowan’s too wrapped up in his own thoughts that he almost crashes into Aelin when she stops in front of him. He catches himself in time and looks up to see two figures that seem to have captured Aelin’s attention. It’s a man, with blond hair and the same light turquoise eyes as Aelin, and a dark haired woman.

“Aedion?” Aelin whispers, taking a couple small steps forward. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard. I heard about Nehemia and I’m so sorry Aelin.” Aedion says, walking toward them. Aelin doesn’t move at first, but then runs into Aedion’s arms. Rowan doesn’t need to see the tears to know she’s crying. “I’m here for you Aelin. I’m always here.” he says to her.

Rowan had heard the rumors. Aelin Galathynius and Aedion Ashryver were cousins, they used to pop up at campaign events hand-in-hand in their youth, which is where Rowan had first spotted them when he was just starting out in the industry as a reporting intern. Aelin and Aedion were inseparable. There was a running joke in the press room that if you found one, you’d see the second close behind, and could judge the state of President Rhoe by their level of supervision. If Aelin and Aedion had an aide nearby, things were generally well. But if they were roaming the grounds alone, something serious was going on. But in the past few years, Rowan hadn’t seen many pictures of the two of them together. Nor had he seen any overly exaggerated stories about them in the tabloids. He’d assumed it was because he’d moved on from the day-to-day reporting to focus on broadcasting, but watching the scene before him, it seemed like something deeper had happened.

It’s then that Aedion seems to notice Rowan standing there and he gestures for Rowan to come closer.

“Hey man, thanks for being there for Aelin. I’m so glad she’s met someone after everything that’s happened”

Rowan shoots Aelin a puzzled look. Aedion doesn’t know.

“Er, thanks Aedion, but Aelin and I aren’t...together.”

“Oh!” he exclaims, looking between Aelin and Rowan in confusion. “So, you’re just here as a friend to help Aelin identify the bodies?”

“Wait, what? There are no bodies? We’re here for Orion and Azrael.” Aelin says.

“Wait, who are Orion and Azrael? And what other reason than moral support is Rowan Whitethorn with you?”

“They’re Vaughn and Nehemia’s daughters. And Aelin and mine’s god-children.” Rowan manages to get out.

“Who we will now be raising.” Aelin continues. “ And Aedion I’m really happy to see you, but I really don’t have time to deal with your alpha-male BS right now or to explain anything about my life when you haven’t been in it for so long.”

A look of regret shadows Aedion’s face, but he wisely doesn’t ask any more questions.

Aelin looks like she wants to say something else, but their reunion is interrupted when one of the social workers comes out to the lobby and calls for Aelin and Rowan to come into her office for the paperwork. Aelin gives Aedion their new address and he promises to come by tomorrow to meet the girls and make up for the time he’s been away. The woman with him, who is introduced as Lysandra, stays mostly silent the entire time, but gives both Rowan and Aelin a quick hug before departing with Aedion.

The meeting with the social worker passes by in a blur and less than an hour later, they’re back in Aelin’s car with the girls, who are thankfully asleep in their car seats.

“I didn’t realize you and Aedion weren’t close anymore.” Rowan states, once Aelin manages to escape the city traffic and makes it to the highway.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Rowan.”

Rowan puts his hands up, “Ok, fair. Just trying to figure out how I should act when he comes over tomorrow.”

Aelin sighs. “It’s a long story, we used to be inseparable. My parents were always busy with running the country so I spent most of the day with Aedion. Then three years ago, we sort of just drifted apart and that’s that.”

“Yeah, I remember seeing you guys chasing each other around when I came for the daily press briefings.”

“You were there?” Aelin asks, shocked. “I don’t remember seeing you, and I definitely would have remembered a man with white hair walking around.”

“I was just an intern then. I sat in the back of the press room and took notes for my newspaper. But my seat was right by the window and whenever the briefing was dragging, I’d look out and often see you two running and playing. I was jealous to be honest.”

“Ha” Aelin snorts, “I was always jealous of people like you, you got to go out into the world and do something. I was stuck inside those gilded gates.”

Rowan’s eyebrows raise at that confession. Somehow he hadn’t imagined young Aelin as someone who wanted to get out. “You always seemed so happy to be playing with Aedion. So in the moment.”

“Hmm, I was happy. But after, um, after my parents di- were gone, living in the moment was kinda tough.”

He can tell there’s a lot Aelin isn’t saying, but this is the first conversation they’ve managed without being snippy with each other so Rowan doesn’t push it.

“So what happened three years ago?” Rowan asks. “Did Aedion do something?”

Aelin doesn’t respond. But Rowan sees her grip tighten on the steering wheels, and her lips tighten to a thin line and he realizes he’s said something wrong, but can’t figure out what it is. He wracks his brain to remember what happened three years ago, but all he can remember is Vaughn’s wedding in the spring.

It’s not until they’re pulling back into the driveway of the house almost 30 minutes later that he remembers. She lost her fiance, Sam, three years ago. But what did that have to do with Aedion? He tries to suppress his journalistic urge to ask more questions, and is saved by cries in the backseat. The girls are awake.

Tags: @queen-of-glass

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 4

Skipper Thistlespring and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

We pick back up at The Swan’s Little Parade where rich people shenanigans are taking place. Gorgug breaks from the group to try and call Zelda. When she doesn’t answer, he leaves the saddest, sweetest apology voicemail ever. Lou breaks. Siobhan breaks. I break. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the group gameplans. Adaine pushes back against the idea that they have to talk to Aelwyn. Her parents are also an option and Aelwyn is not a good person, no matter how hot Fabian is for her. They also check out the guest book from the hotel and see that Bill Seacaster has stayed there several times, always right after a Garthy O’Brien (they see that it happened a bunch while they were in jail and it was probably in conjunction with when Bill was supplying palimpsests). Fabian recognizes the name as a pirate and Cathilda knows they run the Gold Gardens which is a floating pirate casino/brothel.

Kristen tries to release Gorthalax but just confirms that, because of the curse, doing it without messing up Gorthalax is gonna be tough. 

Sandra-Lynn goes to get Gorgug while Fig decides to careen the campaign into Crazytown and make herself Empress for Life of the same. She disguises herself as an old lady and tries to drop off a note giving her phone number as the new number of the cop she impersonated last episode (Detective Decker) so she can send a fully grown cop texts that would def get him Chris Hansen’d irl. Brennan decides that if she’s gonna keep making beds, she should probably lie in one of them for once and comes for her entire life in the funniest scene of the episode. No recap I could give can do it justice(links to clips here: x, x). Just know it ends with Fig running away and ditching her phone in a lake, which could very possibly have plot consequences if she forgets to replace her phone before she’s in a tight spot where it would be helpful and the absolute dumbest/funniest reason for a character death (I want to note that she did replace her phone technically, but with a huge, old, brick phone from Adaine’s jacket that can’t be as useful as an actual cell). 

ANYWAY

Tracker creates a Moon Haven in the van which is basically like a dope pillow fort with the Sanctuary spell cast on it and TARDIS bigger-on-the-inside spatial mechanics. Once they’re inside the Moon Haven, Ragh finally feels safe to tell them what he knows--which he does telepathically via Adaine and the message spell to make everything extra safe. Here’s a rundown of what he tells them:

He saw Kalina on the night of prom after the big fight. She was talking to Jace (the sorcery “teacher”) and an elven woman who looked like Adaine in black robes--Adaine confirmed with a picture that it was her mother. 

After being healed by Porter, Ragh started walking home and was stopped by Kalina who said she would kill his mom if he told anyone what he saw. 

Ragh’s mom Lydia is also a half-orc barbarian. She was on a mission in the Red Waste (where the 7 Maidens have their Sophomore Year quest) and they found a soul gem that was leaking something bad. She put it in her chest to contain the evil but at the cost of her health. She’s now extremely sick and in a permanent, medically-induced rage to keep her alive. She refuses medical treatment because no one can ensure the evil won’t be released if they remove the gem. 

His mom fucking slaps.

So that’s all deeply worrying. Adaine invites Ragh and his mom to live with them in the Haunted House and Fig offers to give them Dr. Asha’s number. Gorgug discovers the Van can become a boat which is convenient for the pirate-y things they have to do (the Golden Gardens is on the way to Falinel so they decide to stop there first). Fig has a heart to heart with Gilear while Adaine and Sandra-Lynn take first watch outside since the Moon Haven can only hold nine people. Adaine has to roll a wisdom save because she’s outside of the Haven’s protection and, even on a 16, the music goes all scary and she feels that something is in the tent with her outside. Something humanoid and her size with its knees to its chest. She senses that if she sees its face, something will happen to her and, instead of looking at it, she calls for Sandra-Lynn. By the time she shows up, the thing is gone. Fig assures Adaine that she’s not crazy or seeing things and, based on Adaine’s description, they’re able to deduce that it wasn’t Baron or Kalina. 

In the morning, Gorgug is pretty bummed and asks everyone to call him Skipper. Kristen is very down and Fabian is very not. They discuss whether they should tell all of the information from Ragh to the 7 Maidens (no) and whether Gorgug should call Zelda (yes). They drive into the sea. Gorgug finally talks to Zelda who is not happy with him for the ghosting and unintentional thoughtlessness. She’s even less happy with him when she realizes he forgot to get the generator they needed to stay in touch long distance. They’re breaking up. Do I mean relationship-wise or phone-wise? You don’t know? Well that makes two of us (Thanks, I Hate It).

They’re at sea for two days and then make it to the floating pirate shipwreck city of Leviathan. Pirate adventures next week, y’all! 

Detention

Fig for Trying to Seduce ANOTHER Middle-Aged Man

Listen, I’ll stop putting her here for this when she stops doing this. Not to mention, she invented a whole ass person (HILDA HILDA?????) when she’s just been told that nightmare monsters are being generated from lies. Fig, my girl. Ms. Faeth. Please. I’m begging you. Please. 

Honor Roll

All of the Adults for Stepping Up

Every single adult in this episode was on fire. Fig confided in Gilear and he stepped up to the plate with a This-Is-So-Serious-I’m-Going-To-Use-Your-Actual-Full-Name, speech. Sandra-Lynn showed Adaine how to do some ranger stuff and jumped in to save her when she cried out. Cathilda was ready with warm milk and cookies she somehow was able to make in the van as soon as Adaine needed them. Sandra-Lynn also had a heart to heart with Fig and even Gorthalax, who’s still trapped in the ruby, gave Fig a spell slot back. And, of course, Ragh’s mom slaps. 

Random Thoughts

Adaine and Fabian both being uber rich but being on the opposite ends of the rich people spectrum is hilarious. Adaine is a “Sleeping in a van? I’ve heard of that but I’ve never gotten to do it. This will be fun!” Rich Kid  and Fabian is a “No turn down service? Hard pass,” Rich Kid. 

I was happy that they brought Ragh along for comedy reasons but who knew he was gonna be so chock full of backstory and important story beats? Like, every good GM has a way of making whatever story path that was chosen seem like the only way the story could have gone and I’m sure that whoever was picked, Brennan would have made that seem like the obvious and essential choices but I’m very happy they picked Ragh. Him talking about how much he loves his mom was so adorable! I love that he’s a big, good, dumb boy now and I’m happy they invited him to live at the Haunted House. That’s def gonna be good for some shenanigans (also love that Adaine’s only stipulation was that he had to be nice to Zayn and he was so eager to agree).  

Insane Ally Move of the Game: Deciding that Kristen genuinely doesn’t know Gilear used to be lunch lad at their school. Is Kristen even on the same plane of existence as everyone else. And then, later, “I worry about Gilear.” Do you really???

I totally forgot that Gilear was not only an elven diplomat but also a full on actual counselor. Makes it even wilder that he lost the job to Jawbone. Also, while we’re talking about him, I said we were gonna inevitably gonna get some more color on Gilear this season and we saw some of that in this ep when Adaine uses detect thoughts on him (which, btw, seems like a horribly invasive thing that people do very casually in this world) and we see that he gave up his career for Sandra-Lynn and then was wrecked when she cheated on him. Really puts a melancholy shade over his hilarious ineptness. 

Another thing I figured we’d see soon and that we’re starting to see is Adaine speaking up on Aelwyn. Two times this ep she tried to steer the group away from Aelwyn and seemed more serious than her usual trash talk. As excited as I am for pirate adventures, I want to get to Falinel ASAP to see how this shakes out. 

Also, on the mom front, wild that we found out that Ragh has a super dope mom in the same scene Adaine took another L and found out that her mom is also involved in this shadiness. Black robes are never a good sign. But I will say, just based on the story beats we’ve gotten, I’m not totally sold on the idea that she’s 100% bad--or at least that she doesn’t care for Adaine at all. I’m wondering if she wasn’t at school trying to find Adaine (possibly among other things). 

“Every time you have sex it’s a gamble. You could lose your heart.”/”What happened to you on tour?”

Gorgug trying to let a full sized griffon land on his arm is hilarious. I love that. He’s so wholesome and dumb.

I love that when Emily was doing her Hilda-Hilda nonsense , turned into Detective Decker, and ran past the police house precinct, Lou was the only person who was on her wavelength and understood what she was trying to do while everyone else was like????

We find out in this ep that Van can control all the auxiliary functions of the van but not the actual driving, which is important to know before a sticky situation. On a more personal note, we find out that he was originally a planetar (second most powerful D&D angel) of Elysium, specializing in harmony, relaxation, and chill vibes and he got dumped and kicked out of heaven for sleeping through a call to battle.

We also get the cursed image of a van with hands which I knew was gonna be the shirt and lo and behold. 

“Fuck Me.”/”When.” Y’all are the worst. 

I love that Brennan mentioned Porter in Ragh’s flashback, fully knowing it was gonna trigger Emily. 

Fig’s new plan is to get all of her parents in a throuple and I don’t even know where to begin with that tbh so I won’t.

@voxfantasma made a comment last week that Sandra-Lynn very well could have seen Kalina which is why she can she her in the photo--which is an offhand comment I made when I was talking about the rules of the photo last week--and Ragh’s reaction to the photo is making me move this theory back up to the top spot. I still wish they would show the photo to more people so we’d have more data for this. 

I loved Fig tossing Fabian a bardic inspiration for a compliment even though he didn’t really need it. I also love that she has a rider in her rockstar contract necessitating gogurt be at all her shows for Gilear. 

Adaine paranoidly casting water breathing on everyone at the slightest hint that they may have to go near water. Our girl is learning from the mistakes of the last oracle. 

With the gang facing off against the Nightmare King and Brennan’s description of the thing in Adaine’s tent as being humanoid, about her side, and sitting in a sort of defensive way, I’m wondering it what it was was a manifestation of her own anxiety or something along those lines. Of course, it could just be a normal ass monster. Sometimes the scariest thing is your inner turmoil and sometimes it’s just a monster trying to bite your head off. 

We also learn that Cathilda has a super wild adventurer’s life before she settled down to be a maid--so she knows what she’s missing and she’s fine with it--and also that she is paid ridiculously well, which makes me feel better about what’s going on with her. Also, her moment with Adaine and the cookies was so sweet. My notes for that scene say, “Adaine loves Cathilda and so do I.”

I loved Murph and Riz going equally Pepe Silvia trying to anagram out Garthy O’Brien (which is also what I was doing, especially since Brennan specifically spelled out the name). Cheers to Murph/Riz and Siobhan/Adaine trying to single handedly keep the story on track--both in and out of character.

There’s a part in this ep where Adaine Ray of Frosts Fig who immediately Hellish Rebukes her and that’s truly the kind of step-sister shenanigans I want to see from them as much as possible please and thank you. Also, like I said before, it was very sweet of Fig to reassure Adaine that she wasn’t just seeing things in the tent. Her catfishing middle aged men aside, she can be very empathetic when she wants to be.  

Adaine cast (or tried to cast Friends) on the thing in her tent. And I think it’s very telling about her character that that’s the spell she would cast and not an offensive one. Not that messing w/ someone’s brain is a super chill thing to do or anything, but I think, “Maybe I can calm whoever this is and talk to them and we can get some information,” is a much more measured reaction than maybe, “Let’s blast this thing to kingdom come and ask questions later.”

“Man van is a boat, my boat is a van.”

Brennan lets Adaine roll w/ advantage to convince the Hangman to come with them on the Van (which he still hates) because she said, “Please” really cute which is the kind of arbitrary DM fiat that I love. 

Adaine: We should tell them unless we’re being graded on a curve. (Savage.)

“Fig, she’s a maid. She’s not allowed to lie.”

All the skipper talk this ep got the Gilligan’s Island theme stuck in my head (never seen an ep but my mom watches it sometimes) so the next day I was getting dressed going “With Fabian, and the skipper too, the oracle, the PI,” to the GI theme song. Also, did not know skipper and captain were the same title until Fabian got all upset and I looked it up. Yet another piece of information I know because of some game (along with what a panacea is (Dragon Quest 9) and where the CDC is (Pandemic)).

Gorgug, being offered a virgin daiquiri: No thanks, I’m driving. (I’ve said this before: Zac low key has the best comic timing of anyone.)

When Riz is angraming, one of the things he ends up with is something about a “night yorb” which Brennan decided is a real thing that both the Hangman and the Van are very wary about. Having the Hangman constantly being like, “SPEAK NOT OF THE NIGHT YORB!” and the Van being like, “Seriously, don’t fuck with the night york,” was so funny and such nonsense. I can’t wait for the night yorb mini boss fight that has to happen now because of the rule of funny.

Gorgug comes down from his call with Zelda and everyone except for Fabian (and probably Ragh who cannon-balls off the boat w/ Fabian and they both have to be rescued by Sandra-Lynn) knows exactly what happened immediately. Aw, buddy. One of my favorite things about media where you have kids saving the world is you have relationship drama and also the world is ending and it all feels equally high stakes. I find that so funny but also it feels very representative of what high school was like, or at least what it felt like (minus the literal apocalypse, obv. Or maybe not. Idk what was going on at your high school). 

Adaine continues lending out Boggy to anyone who needs him.

Also, Gorgug tries to build a cell tower with driftwood and parts from Adaine’s jacket. It’s not going super hot. 

Both Adaine and Riz are podcast nerds and listen to This Solesian Life. All checks out. Their friendship is underrated.  

“I’m feeling really bad and my van is a boat.”

“I was gonna be straight edge except for drugs,” gives me “Sober salad” energy. 

The whole discussion about Kristen getting tracker silly putty for her birthday. 

The Van was serving some serious Ned Flanders energy along with the Owen Wilson energy this episode. 

Brennan does pretty good whale noises. 

Only crit this episode is Fig with a nat 20 insight to know Gorgug’s conversation with Zelda did not go well. Which is something she’d crit on.

[tnystrk-exe]

Learning to Live 2

Tony Stark X Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“Come on babygirl.” Tony pressed a few kisses to your shoulder. He had made you sit on the kitchen counter and trapped you in by standing between your legs. “Move in with me sweetheart. This big house gets lonely without you. You’ve been thinking about this forever.” He shifted to give you a kiss.

The faint taste of bourbon and a cigarette sticked around when he pulled away. “It’s only been two months, Tones.”

“Two months too long,” he complained, resting his head against your chest. The dreams were getting worse. Keeping you and Ro close was priority. “We can have a family Christmas. Haven’t had a good one of those since 91.”

“Tones, we’ve had good Christmas’s for six years.”

“Okay you saw through that, but honey, just say yes. All of this jumping between houses is just wasting our time.” Tony couldn’t work on his suits at your home. Sure you had offered to let him make a lab, but if he was over at yours work wasn’t on his mind.

“What’s got you in such a rush Tony?” You asked curiously. “You never sleep and you’re on Mark what? 20?”

“42,” he corrected quietly. “At least I’m working on it.”

“Tones,” you sighed, “You’re working yourself to the bone. It’s not good for you.” Though it was expected Tony went out through the wringer not too long ago. “Talk to me, you’re stressed.”

“I’m not,” he shook his head, “I’m fine.”

“You only smoke when you’re stressed or stuck. Given how many suits you’ve made since New York, you’re definitely not stuck.”

Ro and Dominic screamed as they chased one another through the house. Tony looked up quickly, a cold panic spread through him. It took a second for him to be pulled back to reality. “...I’ve been having some really messed up dreams. In those dreams bad things happen to the people I care about. I can’t sleep, YN. Sleeping and me that just isn’t happening. That’s time wasted when I can be building to protect the two people I’m not sure I could live without.”

“Tones, we’re fine. We’re safe.” You reassured him, making him look at you. “You need to take care of yourself.”

“We thought we were safe.” His eyes showed you more fear than you thought he would ever be capable of showing. “We don’t know what’s up there. I can’t rest until I know I did whatever it took for you and Ro.”

“Is that why you’re so stuck on us moving in?”

“I do want you two around, even without this hanging over me. Though, you’re right, there’s no denying it, it would be easier to keep the two of you safer here.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “We’ll move in.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. On a stipulation.”

“Anything.”

“You have to start taking care of yourself and none of this lemme wait until she’s asleep and sneak out when we go to bed.”

“You’ve noticed,” he stated.

You laughed, “Of course. Tony, you don’t exactly know how to do subtle. I even notice those mornings were you sneak into bed and act like you woke up when the alarm goes off. I was just seeing how long it took until you talked to me, honey. You carry around a lot of weight on your own. You don’t need to do this all on your own.”

“.....I’ve been drowned, beat, stuck in a desert with no pain killer, that was annoying...there’s too many things to count,” he sighed, shaking his head, “Up there? That’s worse than anything. Everything.”

There was a rare glimpse of fear in Tony’s eyes when he spoke. You weren’t even sure if you had seen it at all in the past couple of years. Tony was strong, defiant, and behind that lingered a self doubt that would probably always remain. Never fear. “Tony...”

Tony opened his mouth before the kid’s conversation by the piano distracted him. To tell the truth it was getting too much for him. Their innocent conversation was a nice distraction from the hell in his head. “Didn’t you have a crush on Ruby?” Dominic asked, making his Hulk toy fight Ro’s Captain America.

“Yeah! But she moved schools. So now I just have a crush on you,” Ro stated simply, “You’re cute, I think.”

“Oh, thanks! That’s cool we have crushes on each other! I don’t wanna be your boyfriend because then we have to be married and get jobs. And that’s boring. But maybe later when we’re bigger.”

“Yeah, I don’t want you to be my boyfriend either.”

“And here everyone thought they were safe from the Starks for a while,” Tony mused.

“Well, they got to the marriage talk before us.” The two of you would talk later. You could tell what you got was as much as he’d give right now.

“Nope, we got there pretty quickly. You’re already all mine in holy phony matrimony.”

“Then that means you’re all mine.”

“Always. May have to change that to a legally binding status sometime. I think I’d like to keep you around.” He leaned forward to drop a kiss on your cheek. “So when are we going to start moving the two of you in?”

“Now you’re talking about wanting to change my last name too?” You laughed, “Let’s pump the breaks for a while. All it is is a piece of paper. We can start up tomorrow. It’s not much, we don’t need much except the important stuff and our clothes.”

“I can wait.” He shrugged, expecting the struggle given the turn out of your first marriage. “Attempt number one wasn’t the best. I get it, but I have lots of time to wait. Eventually we’ll get there. Then I’ll hide that piece of paper somewhere you can never find it, then you’ll never be able to return me.”

“That’s incredibly sappy Stark, careful someone may thing you’re getting soft. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.”

“Mix of both. I’m always sweet on you Cupcake.”

The pager on the counter started to go off. “Duty calls Iron Man.” You pressed a final kiss to his lips before slipping off to grab your now ringing phone. “Yeah, Seb? ...I’ll be there as quick as possible.”

“Go save some lives, Doc.” He waved you off, walking over to check on the kids by the piano. “Hey Short Stack, Rugrat, what do the two of you say to going to the park before Dominic has to go back home?”

“Burgers too?” Dominic asked.

“Hmm,” Tony scratched his beard, pretending to think about it, “Who’s your favorite Avenger?”

“Hulk!”

“Really? Wound my ego why don’t you.”

“Yeah! He’s big and helped save you, plus my eyes turn green when I lie. Mom said so.”

Tony picked up Dominic, “That so? Show me.”

Dominic looked at him head on. “You’re the coolest Avenger.”

“Didn’t know you felt that way Dominic, your eyes didn’t change a shade. Go get your backpack and we’ll get set up to go.” Tony set him down on the floor and Dominic ran over to Ro’s room to get his things. “You named a car after your crush?”

“Yep! She was pretty the car was pretty. Now she’s going to a different school,” she pouted.

“Sorry about that sweetheart. It’ll be okay.”

“It sucks a lot.”

“But you have a crush on Dominic now?”

“A little,” she nodded, “He’s really cute and funny and nice.”

“All good qualifications, especially those last two.”

“Up?” She asked, looking so much smaller than she was.

“You’re growing up too fast.” It’s like he had blinked and here she was, talking to him about her crushes. Another blink and she’d think he was annoying and cringey. Tony picked her up happily, enjoying his time while he could. Pressing a kiss to her head as she curled up close to him. “Love you, Rugrat.”

“Love you, Labrat.”

Tony chuckled “Labrat?”

“You needed a nickname too! You don’t like it?” Ro asked, pulling away to pout at him.

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “I love it.”

Tony took the two of them to the park, snagging them a couple of kids meals to eat before playing. This whole lugging around two kids with him wasn’t so bad. Too fast. Way too fucking fast to think about that. One was more than enough. He found a shady spot to relax at while the pair killed their energy.

Time came and it was time to take Dominic back home, much to their disappointment. “Do I have to go home? I like it here! No one fights.”

“Sorry, kid, we’ve already nabbed you for three days. Your mom is already asking for you back.” Tony looked through the rearview to see Dominic crossing his arms over his chest a couple of tears going down his cheeks. Ro used her sleeve to wipe the stray tears. “Hey, hey, don’t do that. Look I’ll try to see what I can do and see if your parents will let you spend some of your Christmas break with us. Would you like that?”

“Yes, sir. That would be a lot of fun.”

“See? You don’t have to cry. Just gotta talk to me, kid.”

Dominic and Ro shared a long hug when he parked in front of the house. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Ro smiled and kissed the little boy’s cheek.

Dominic looked at her with wide eyes, a bright blush across his cheeks. “Thank you! Mr. Tony can I marry Ro?”

“Why don’t you give it a try in another fifteen years?”

“Okay! I can wait,” Dominic nodded. “See you at school.” The little boy grabbed his bag and dashed out of the car when he saw his little sister waiting at the door.

Ro climbed over the center console and jumped onto the passenger seat. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, Rugrat?” Tony asked, driving off once he saw Dominic walk inside his house.

“How did you know that you loved mommy?”

Tony took a breath, trying to remember when it clicked. That moment he knew.

-

“Hey Sweetpea!” He greeted when you answered the phone. “I’m thinking about coming in for spring break.”

“Really?” You asked, excitement dripping in your voice. It had been a while since the two of you had met on the Stark family vacation. “Genius Boy, you better not be messing with me.”

“I’m not!” He chuckled, “Tell you what, we’ll rent out a place at a beach. You can invite that guy you’ve been talking about too. Mr. Guy I think I’ll Marry.”

You cringed at his teasing but laughed all the same. “I said that at a moment of weakness. Let me live it down.”

“Don’t think I will. You hurt me finding someone else immediately after we got married.”

“You didn’t do any better. If I remember correctly, you had a very warm homecoming the second you stepped on campus.”

“Touché. I’ll make our arrangements and get in contact with you when everything is set in stone. Want me to pick you up or met up there?”

“We’ll meet you.”

“Someone planning on playing hide the zucchini?” You could practically see him raising his eyebrows at the suggestion.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“Hey, I’m a sleaze, but I’m not that sleazy.” He leaned back in his chair, abandoning his project. “Use protection, we don’t want any little YNs running around anytime soon.”

“A bunch of little Tonys are more likely.”

Tony scoffed loudly. “Don’t put that out in the world. We can’t ever make a child suffer through me being their father.” There was some shuffling and a door closing, “Hey, Rhodey. Say hi to YN.”

“Hi, YN. Tell your man that he needs to get some sleep, he’s been running for three days now.”

“Hello, Rhodey. Tony go to sleep.”

“But we just got on the phone!” He complained childishly. “Give me a couple more minutes here.”

“Go to sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow after classes.”

“It’s a date. Thanks Rhodey.” Tony hung up the phone and turned to look at Rhodey who was laying comfortably on his bed.

“What are your plans with her?” Rhodey wondered, knowing his friend’s usual tactics.

“No plans.” Tony shook his head, “She’s just my friend. Off limits just like you sweetheart.”

Rhodey raised a brow in response. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, she’s beautiful and funny. She’s a good girl, y’know? Sweet and all that, but blunt and realistic too. It’s nice. Refreshing. The only person that doesn’t care about who I am is you. Having someone else in that corner is nice,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Anyhow, I don’t think YN would go for someone like me. Which is great, because emotions are a mess I don’t want to get into anytime soon.”

“Maybe you’ll be in for a surprise.” Rhodey shrugged. He saw a change in Tony when it came to you. It had just been a weekend, but you had an affect on his friend. “It wouldn’t be the worst.”

Tony thought it over, shaking his head. “Nope! That’s all just way too messy for me. We’re young it’s all about freedom right now. Who even wants to think about being tied down now? Or ever for that matter.”

The days passed quickly as you waited to meet up again. He was glad you’d get to meet Rhodey soon enough. Tony was sure you’d love one another. No time was wasted between Tony and Rhodey arriving and the party starting up for the week. There was too much alcohol and cash to get through to wait any longer.

When you got to the beach house, you looked in the car mirror. Straightening yourself out you wiped the tears from your eyes. You walked into the house. People were yelling, dancing, and drinking. Going to the bar area, you got yourself a drink and downed the amber liquid. The warmth spread throughout your body as you made another.

Suddenly someone’s arms wrapped around your waist and they spun you. The bottle spilling over haphazardly as you laughed an already familiar cologne filled the air around you. “Oh thank god it is you. I’ve grabbed the wrong girl three times already.” Tony kissed your cheek.

“How did the others react?” You asked, hugging him.

He took the bottle from you, taking a swig. “I’ve received a push, a kiss, and a slap. The slap was insanely more of a turn on than the kiss. A new discovery, I think.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“So where’s your guy?” Your face dropped. “Wrong question. Got it. What happened?”

“I was going to pick him up. Let myself into his place because that’s just what we did. Found him in his room and there he was with someone I thought was my friend.”

“Oh shit. We’re going to need a lot more alcohol.” Tony grabbed a couple of bottles and led you up to his room.

“Tones, come on, you don’t need to cheer me up. Enjoy your party. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Nah, come on we can catch up. It’ll be fun.”

You let him tug you up the stairs, not putting up much of a fight. There were a few whistles from drunk guys that thought Tony was taking up his first conquest of the night. Tony let you in his room and locked the door behind himself. “Where’s Rhodey?”

“He started talking to someone an hour ago, haven’t seen him since.” Tony sat down beside you on his bed. “Chose your poison.”

You grabbed the closer bottle and took a drink. “Why do guys suck so much?”

Tony looked at you, you looked downright broken-hearted. Now he could see the tears threatening to fall. “He doesn’t know how lucky he is that he even had your attention. He’ll regret it.”

You sniffed, absolutely hating how that waste messed up your night. Tonight was supposed to be fun. “This isn’t how I saw our reunion going down. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad to see you. How about you and I forget all about him? Let’s see if I can pull a smile out of you.”

The two of you talked, learning more about one another. There wasn’t any awkwardness in the air, the two of you worked well together. He earned more than one smile from you, which made him insanely proud and smug. You played some drinking games and it turned out Tony could hold his liquor better than you. Tony went after you when you stood suddenly and ran to the bathroom. He crouched down beside you, collecting your hair into a ponytail in his hand to keep it out of your face. “You’re okay sweetheart,” he said, his free hand rubbing your back soothingly.

“You don’t have to be here,” You rasped, it definitely wasn’t a pretty situation. “I got it.”

He shook his head, helping you to your feet. “YN, you’re my friend. Which means you’re going to repay this favor more than you think. Just because I didn’t hit my limit tonight doesn’t mean I won’t reach it tomorrow.”

You laughed weakly, “Gotcha Tones. I get to play nurse tomorrow.”

He pulled out a tooth brush and a bottle of water from under the sink cabinet. “Prepared for anything.”

You got yourself sorted, your stomach not feeling any better at all. Maybe you had over done it. “Thanks. I think it’s a hangout in the bathroom kinda night. Go enjoy your party.”

“And miss out on this?” Tony leaned against the wall and sank down. A tug on your hand and he had you sitting on his lap. “Let me take care of you tonight, sweets, don’t stress it.”

Relaxing against Tony, you absentmindedly pressed a kiss to his neck. “Love you, Tones.” You didn’t get to dread a response before you passed out listening to his heart.

Tony looked down at you, moving your hair out of your face. It wasn’t the first time the words dropped from your lips. Not by a long shot. It was, however, the first time he felt something inside of himself. He wanted to hear you say it again and again and again. That felt overly sappy for his taste. Still that didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss to your hair. This would be like him. If this was falling in love, then of course he did it in the bathroom at a party. The girl in question passed out on him, looking so peaceful as she rested against his chest. He shook his head, it had to be the alcohol. There was no way this was it.

-

Now he knew better. That was the point when his thoughts on you changed. He may have been too young and dumb to act on it, but that was definitely the start. It wasn’t too bad all things considered.

“Your mommy came to visit me and a boy had made her sad. Then I realized all I wanted to do was make her smile and protect her from anyone else that would make her sad. But I was still a kid and telling your mommy that I loved her felt very scary. It took me a long time to tell her.”

“It’s scary to tell someone you love them?” Ro wondered, “I think it’s easy.”

“Some people do” he nodded, “It depends on the person.”

“So when you told mommy you loved her, then you had me?” She asked trying to connect the dots.

“Something like that kiddo.”

“It’s different because you took a break to love Pepper? Is mommy going to take a break too?”

“I sure hope she doesn’t.”

“Me too. It’s more fun when you love each other. We’re always together.” Ro looked over, studying his expression closely. “Daddy?”

He looked over, a serious look on her face. At least, as serious as a child could look. “What’s on your mind Rhodes?”

“Daddy, don’t get mad,” she said nervously, “I don’t know if what I did was bad but I just wanted to know. You always say to ask questions when I want to know something. The picture mans when they see us they always say step dad. I wanted to ask you, but you always tell them fuck off and get angry. I asked Mr. Rivera and he said I should talk to mommy and you. So then I asked my friends. Marcus and Gabriela have step dads and another daddy.”

Tony felt a cold sinking feeling in his stomach. She had learned, caught on by herself and he had promised when the time came he wouldn’t lie. Man, he thought he had more time before the conversation came up. “You could have asked. I wouldn’t have gotten angry. How could I be angry with you?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “Does this mean someone else is my daddy? Do I have to call you Tony now? Or Mr. Stark?”

“You can call me...whatever makes you comfortable,” he responded, knowing her choice could potentially be heartbreaking. “It’s your call.”

“I don’t think I wanna call someone else daddy. That’s weird,” she scrunched her nose, “You’re my daddy, I love you. Can I please still call you daddy?”

He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat feeling tight. “Of course, sweetheart, that wasn’t even a question you had to ask. I love being your dad. We can talk about this more when mom comes home, yeah? You and I can keep it hush that you said fuck.”

“You say fuck. Why can’t I say fuck?”

“Because if you keep saying it your mom is gonna fuck me up.” He poked her side.

Ro leaned over, her small hand landing on his cheek, she used her sleeve to wipe away a tear that had slipped. “Daddy cries? Did I make you sad?”

“No sweetheart. You didn’t make me sad,” he grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it, “Thank you, sweet girl. It’s bittersweet. You know the truth now, but you still chose me.”

She nodded, not really understanding. “You chose me too! Like Pokémon!”

“Exactly like Pokémon.”

Tony turned on the radio, Ro didn’t skip a beat singing along to Bowie happily. He smiled fondly as she went to town on her air guitar. How did he get so lucky to have this perfect child in his life? This kid that loved him as unconditionally as he loved her. It was something he never expected to have. Nothing would get him to ever give it up, he was certain of that.

It wasn’t that much longer until you came back home. The dynamic duo didn’t seem to be in the main house, “Ro! Tony!”

“They’re in the lab,” J.A.R.V.I.S. informed you, still elating the intercom audio leak through.

“Daddy did it!”

“Ro did it!”

You laughed at them, rolling your eyes. “Thank you, J. Have they behaved today?”

“With sir? I’ve seen worse times.”

You walked down the stairs, pizza box in hand. Ro sat next to Tony at his lab bench. Iron Man tech and coloring pages scattered around the pair.

“...really threw me under the bus there? Your father? I got you, let’s see the next time you want any toys.”

“You threw me too! Your daughter!” Ro jumped off her seat and ran to hug you. “I missed you mommy.” You placed the pizza on the table and picked her up.

“I missed you too. Did you have fun today?” You asked, kissing her cheek.

“Yeah, Dominic asked daddy if he could marry me and then me and daddy had a grown up talk.” She wiggles out of your arms and bee lined for the pizza. Tony grabbed your hand, pulling you close to give you a proper greeting. Ro pretended to gag around the bite she had taken. “You are gross and super old,” she decided.

You pulled away, kissing the corner of Tony’s mouth as you did. “So when’s the kid’s wedding?”

“Not anytime soon, told him to comeback when he’s older.”

“So what was your grown up talk?”

“Daddy’s always going to be my daddy,” Ro stated, “He can’t ever get rid of me.”

“Yeah, of course he can’t. He’s stuck with us.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair. “She asked the kids at her school what a step dad was and the kid solved the puzzle. We didn’t even have to drop any clues in there. Smart kid.”

“My friends have a step dad and a daddy. They see both of them. I don’t wanna call someone else daddy.” Ro handed Tony her pizza crust, “What if that other guy doesn’t like pizza crust? Who am I gonna give mine to?”

“I’m one of the greatest minds in the world, if not the greatest. And my kid thinks I’m good for nothing other than pizza crust disposal.”

“You’re good for cuddles and fixing too.”

“Thank you, I sure do try.”

Ro reached up for you, yawning as she did. “Mommy can we go to sleep? I’m really sleepy now.”

You picked up the little girl and sat her on your hip. “I’ll be back in a couple,” you told Tony. “Let’s get you all cleaned up and ready for bed.”

Twenty minutes later you and Ro were laying in bed. She was laying with her head on your shoulder, her fingers tracing patterns onto your arm. “Mommy? If you and daddy ever had a baby, do you think daddy will forget about me?”

“What? No sweetheart. Never. Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “I’m not really his baby like I’m your baby.”

“Ro, honey, that doesn’t matter,” you tucked her hair behind her ear, “We’re a family okay? We’ll stick together no matter what happens. That’s just how this all works. You never have to wonder if your daddy loves you okay? I know for a fact, that you mean the world to him.”

“I do?”

“Since the day he set eyes on you,” you promised, “You were such a tiny little thing in his arms. We didn’t know he was your daddy then, but I think you did. You were supposed to  come a couple of weeks later, but you heard your dad and decided you couldn’t wait much longer.”

She smiled, her worries calmed. “I’m going to love you and daddy forever.”

“We’re going to love you forever too.”

“It’s okay if you have a baby.”

“Thanks,” you laughed, “But I think one is enough for me right now. Go to bed sweetheart, it’s late and you have school tomorrow.”

Ro kissed your cheek, “G’night mama.” She cuddled up into your warmth, sighing in contentment. Her small hand held yours while she tried to go to drift off. It didn’t take long for her to drop off. Carefully, you slipped out from under her. Tucking her in, you placed a kiss to her cheek.

Walking back to the lab, you hugged Tony from behind resting your head on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about Genius Boy?”

“Fixing up some implants that respond to my nervous system. Figured after New York, bracelets aren’t ideal. Worked but just because something works doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be upgraded. If I have something on me, it’ll make the process quicker. I don’t think I’ll be thrown of a building anytime soon but fool me once,” he rambled.

You kissed his neck, hoping it would calm him some. “Are you okay? Ro kinda found out something major today.”

He sighed, turning around in his chair to face you. “I’m always okay, you know that.” His arms went around you, he rested his head against your chest.

“You sure?”

“Don’t know,” he admitted, “not really. On one hand it’s good she learned young, there’s no time for her to feel resentful or betrayed. On the other, we weren’t the ones that got to tell her. I’m upset mostly, because I was her father in every sense. There was no faceless guy that she actually came from. It was me and no one else ever mattered. Now there’s probably a curiosity about a guy that has never even attempted to know anything about her in years.”

“Yeah, there is a curiosity. That’s undeniable. There’s even some doubt in her too now.”

“Doubt? What does she have to doubt?”

“I was laying down with her and she asked me if you’d forget about her when we had a baby.”

He jumped slightly, pulling back to look at you in shock. “Are we having another baby? We haven’t exactly been the most careful. So we really should have expected it, huh? Wow another one. We can do it. That’s totally doable.” Mind racing ahead of himself before you could answer.

“Cool it, Stark,” you laughed, seeing the noticeable panic in his face, “We’re not expecting a baby right now. Stop panicking.”

“Oh thank...Condoms. We should invest in them.” He sighed, visibly relaxing. “Not that having another kid with you wouldn’t be amazing. Does Ro really think I’d be different? If we’re being honest, anytime I think of the possibility of another one I can’t see myself loving them as much. Maybe it’s just because it’s hypothetical but it’s hard to envision.”

“It is weird,” you agreed, “the thought of another little kid running around. Isn’t it?”

“Would it be the worst thing?” Tony asked, looking up at you.

“I don’t think so,” you answered, carding your hand through his hair, “Having a family with you is the best thing in my life.”

You didn’t miss his rare blush when he looked down at the ground. There wasn’t ever a time Tony ever thought someone would say that. The fact that he had earned such a privilege was overwhelming. “You girls are really aiming for my heart today. Aren’t you?”

“Someone’s gotta remind the Tin Man he has one time to time.”

Tony pulled you in for a kiss. He wasn’t good at voicing how he felt, but he sure as hell knew how to make you feel it. A simple tug of his hair and a sweet sound from you was enough to get him running. “That’s it, you and I are gonna practice some good old fashion sex ed.”

“There’s always abstinence,” you joked.

“Damn it, YN, you’re a doctor not a teacher in Texas.” Tony playfully threw you over his shoulder, his hand copping a feel greedily. “Why don’t you show me a couple of things doc?”

Everything Tag:

| @sophiatomlinson23 | @cannonindeez | @memyselfandmaddox | @mendes-holland | @space-helen |

Marvel Tag:

| @asguardiansoftheavengers | @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked | @lovely-geek | @atomicfandombomb |

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| @bit-bot0711 | @tonystarkxreader | @mikariell95 | @genzparker |

Learning To Live:

| @editsbyjenny | @vesta-ro |

[emperorsfoot]

In this chapter, Entrapta and Hordak board the Monstron in preparation for their journey back to Etheria. (With a few stopped added to the itinerary so Hordak can maintain control of his Bother’s Empire.)

And then, Skeletor finally makes an appearance. 

Hope you enjoy! 

...

The Imperial docking bays were a whirlwind of activity. It seemed like too much was going on, and, at the same time, nothing was happening at all.

Imperial guards, both clone trooper and enlisted blocked off more than half of the ship docks. Anything within half a kilometer of the Princess Entrapta’s shuttle was shut down. Merchants and pilots could not get to their own ships. Ships awaiting clearance could not land. To those on the outside, it seemed like the world was put on pause. On hold, and frozen while their leaders dithered around doing nothing.

Inside the perimeter of guards, it was organized chaos as servants loaded, not only Princess Entrapta’s shuttle, but an Imperial freighter as well. Baggage belonging to the Princess, the Ladies of her party, Imperial Prince Hec-Tor, and his son went into the shuttle. As well as tanks of fresh water, food stuffs, and sanitary supplies. Into the freighter went the Empires first down payment of supplies and materials for Entrapta’s research.

Administrative assistants stood on either side of the loading gangways checking off crates as they were hauled on. Making sure this went on this ship, no that goes on that ship. Where is the Prince’s arm cannon? Has anyone seen the Princess’ back-up tool kit?

While all that was going on at the space docks, back at the Imperial palace, Prince Hec-Tor was meeting with his lieutenants.

The plan was for the Prince and his son to ride with the Princess in her shuttle up to Monstron, Prince Hec-Tor’s flagship, the twin of the Velvet Glove. Entrapta’s shuttle would then dock with Monstron and they would take the Prince’s ship the rest of the way to Etheria.

Except, Hec-Tor was adding a few stops to the agenda.

“We will stop in the Krytis system to address the uprising in the mines.” He said, walking circles around Mantenna and Grizzlor as they took notes on their own personal datapads. Visuals of the flight plan, its detours, troop accompaniments, and so on were displayed on a screen behind him. “If necessary, we will leave a contingent of our own clone troopers there to maintain order. Then we will go to Denebria and take back the base on the Nordor moon.”

Grizzlor’s stylus danced wildly over his datapad, taking notes and making lists. Working out the logistics of not one, but two military strikes during their journey to Etheria.

Mantenna raised a hand. “Your Highness, are you sure this is how you want to spend you honeymoon?”

Hec-Tor frowned at him.

“I just-“ The Rebrunk Nuru faltered under that critical gaze. “You only just got married. Don’t you, I donno… spend time getting to know your new spouse instead of going off to battle.”

“Keeping this Empire together and stable is far more important that my learning what flavor of carbonated beverage Entrapta favors.” The Prince reminded his lieutenants.

Grizzlor held his stylus to his lips, feigning deliberating over the military logistics. His large paw hiding the smile of a silent laugh behind his hand. Prince Hec-Tor might not know his wife’s favorite flavor, but he did at least know that she only drank fizzy drinks, and that was information no one told him. He just noticed it on his own.

…

Things did not finally calm down until the royal couple and all their attendants were aboard Monstron.

Entrapta’s shuttle docking in the main hangar bay, the exterior blast doors sealing shut behind them. The hatch to Entrapta’s shuttle was opened with a hiss of equalizing pressure and the gangplank lowered.

Rows upon rows of clone troopers greeted them. All arranged in disciplined formations, standing at parade rest. They snapped to attention when Prince Hec-Tor and Princess Entrapta exited the shuttle. A satisfying display of military pageantry.

Behind him, Hec-Tor’s pointed ear picked up a snickered remark from Catra, “Cute action figures. They’ve got the full set.”

Admiral Callix was commander of the Monstron when the Prince was not aboard, and he stepped forward to greet Hec-Tor and his new wife, and cede control of the ship to him.

Callix was not a clone. Clones lacked the independent thinking necessary to fill any leadership position higher than a sergeant. Any officer of rank in the Imperial military was an enlisted alien that had proved themselves and risen through the ranks. Callix was a Stoneman from planet Quarry. Very few beings in the military were taller than Hec-Tor and Horde Prime, but Stonemen grew big and Callix towered over Hec-Tor. A mountain next to a tree.

“Your Highness, congratulations on your recent nuptials.” He said. “And to you, Princess, I welcome you to-“

He was cut off when Entrapta rose up on her hair, a tape measure inexplicably appearing from out of nowhere. “Ooh! You’re a Stoneman, right?” She asked excitedly. “I’ve read about you. You don’t usually leave Quarry. I never thought I’d get to meet one of you up close before.”

Moving on her hair, she drifted around the Admiral. Using her tape measure to gauge the circumference of his arm, the width of his shoulders, the length of his chin.

Callix was a military man. He was disciplined. He held his composure. That did not mean he wasn’t confused or uneasy. “Your Highness?” He looked to Hec-Tor for help. Or, at the very least, an explanation.

“Princess Entrapta is keenly curious.” He tried to sooth the Admiral. “About everything.” Then, to Entrapta, “Perhaps we should let the Admiral go for now. I’m sure he has work to do. There will be time to invade his privacy once we are in hyperspace.”

It was the ‘invade his privacy’ remark that made Entrapta stop. It was something she struggled with. Not exactly knowing what was and was not a boundary unless explicitly stated in words. As Entrapta told him very early on, she did not understand body language or subtle social cues. She needed to be told when her attentions were an ‘invasion’.

Entrapta clapped her hair together excitedly. “I’d love to see the engines as you charge up the hyperdrive. How long is the turn around time between powering up the drive and actually making the jump to hyperspace? With all the technology of the Empire, I would imagine very fast, but my research has also told me that it takes longer for larger vessels and this is one of the largest ships in the universe!”

Callix looked concerned again, turning his attention back to the Prince for guidance.

“Entrapta is an Imperial Princess and my wife.” He informed the Admiral. “She is to have free reign of the ship. All decks, all chambers –except private personnel quarters, of course. If her inquiries or explorations raise any concerns, you are to bring them to me directly.”

“Yes, sir.” Callix nodded.

Entrapta twirled on her hair excitedly. She was gonna learn so much about the Empire’s capital ships and technology! Monstron was one of the most advanced ships in the universe, second only to the Velvet Glove. And Hec-Tor had just given her permission to do whatever she wanted! (So long as she didn’t barge into anyone’s bedroom.) He probably didn’t want her taking apart vital systems. But there was still so much a person could learn without taking things apart first.

She wrapped her hair around Hec-Tor in an enthusiastic hug. Just her hair. Not her arms or her body. “This is gonna be so great!”

Behind them a loud squawk issued from the shuttle and Imp flew out. Sailed circles around the hanger –he’d never been inside a war ship before, he’d never left the Imperial Palace- then came to land on his father’s shoulder.

“My son is not to have free reign of the ship.” Hec-Tor informed the Admiral. “He is to be accompanied by an adult at all times, and if you see him unaccompanied, he is to be brought to me immediately.”

Imp crawled down his father’s arm enough that he could be in the older man’s line of sight when he Signed, ‘But, why?’

“A spaceship is not a play place.” He informed the boy. “You cannot carry on here as you carried on at the Palace.”

He did not want his son trying to climb into one of the ship’s ventilation ducts and getting stuck.

Imp gave a forlorn little trill.

Entrapta wrapped a tendril of hair around him. “I’m an adult. I can accompany you if you wanna explore the ship.”

He gave a more optimistic noise, then looked sideways at his father. He did say Imp had to be accompanied by an adult at all times. He didn’t say who that adult could or could not be, or where he could or could not go. Imp really, really liked Dad’s new wife. She was crafty. Exactly his kind of crafty. Entrapta was easily becoming Imp’s new favorite adult.

Hec-Tor cast a disapproving frown at both of them.

“Oh, unclench.” Entrapta smiled at him. “I was already gonna explore the ship anyway, and Imp and I seem to get along okay. It wouldn’t be an inconvenience for me, and I can keep an eye on him –even if I’m looking at something else. I’m good at multi-tasking.”

“No vents.” Hec-Tor declared firmly.

Entrapta smiled at him. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

Hec-Tor made an ambiguous throat noise. He set the terms and the boundaries and Entrpata found a way to work within them. Still giving Imp a variation of ‘free reign’ of the ship without violating any of his stipulations. Imp would always be with an adult, and Entrapta would keep the child out of the ship’s ventilation system. She would adhere to the literal letter of his rules without breaking them and still give Imp what he wanted. She was smart. Smart and crafty.

“Yes.” He groaned. “But remember that Imp must take medications three times a day and they must be taken with food. He is to report to the galley or one of my personal staff to be served. If he misses even one done, you both will lose privileges.”

Imp whined.

Entrapta nodded. “Understood.”

Then they both scampered off together to explore the ship.

Hec-Tor groaned again.

Callix only remained standing still. “I’ve been told children often have a difficult time accepting a step-parent, but Prince Imp seems quite taken with the Princess Entrapta.”

“Imp would be taken with anyone in a position to let him get away with half the things he tries to pull.” Hec-Tor told the other man. Then cleared his throat. These were not the things one confided in a military subordinate. “Take me to the bridge. As soon as the Princess’ shuttle is unloaded and her party is settled, we will make the jump to lightspeed. The Krytis system will be first.”

…

Krytis was a prison colony first and a mining operation second.

That meant it was very difficult to sneak into, and even more difficult to smuggle weapons into. But Evil-Lyn was a master sorceress and clever to boot and she found a way.

After that, it really did not take much to motivate the prisoners of Krytis to rise up and overthrow their wardens. Not every inmate and prisoner of Krytis was a rapist or a murderer. Most were political prisoners, deserters, or defectors. ‘Decent’ people who presented one challenge or another to the Empire or the Imperial family and ‘disappeared’ for it. It really did not take much, after furnishing them with weapons and promising some magical backup, to convince them to revolt.

That was over a week ago by now, and the Empire was yet to retaliate.

“Good work, Lyn.” Her colleague praised over a video screen. His face covered by a hood so that it was hard to make out his features. The only she visitible was a bone-white chin, and the lower pallet of exposed teeth. No lips or flesh to hide them.

“We experienced only a little resistance at first, then when no backup from the empire came, they all just laid down their arms and surrendered.” Evil-Lyn was telling him.

Her hooded partner nodded. “Prince Hec-Tor is the one who really runs the Empire. With him distracted by his wedding, no orders to retaliate would have been sent. But now that that’s over he will retaliate, and with force. You should leave Krytis right away. I am almost done here in Denebria. We’ll rendezvous at Snake Mountain on Eternia.”

“Understood.” Nodded Evil-Lyn. Then hesitated. Then asked anyway. “After we get back to Snake Mountain do you wanna talk? About the Prince, I mean, and the fact that he’s… remarried.”

The one on the other end was silent a beat longer than Lyn felt was necessary.

Then, “We will need to discuss how this marriage will affect the Imperial military and our own plans. Dryl is an industrial arms manufacture and Princess Entrapta is the mind behind it. Our missions might become more complicated in the future because of this.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Lyn shot back. “I mean, how do you feel?”

“Nothing.” The hooded figure assured her. “I feel nothing. It is absurd to think that Horde Prime would let him remain a widower this long. It was a waste of resources. Hec-Tor would have had to remarry eventually. Horde Prime was just holding out until he could get the best price possible for his brother’s hand. And look, he got the most powerful weapons manufacture in the universe. My opinion does not matter.”

Evil-Lyn smirked. He let something slip. “But you do have an opinion.”

If that bare, bone-white chin and teeth still have flesh and muscle on it, he would have frowned. Instead, the jaw just clenched. “Get off Krytis before Hec-Tor rains fire down on you from space. I’ll see you at Snake Mountain, and I don’t want to be asked about my ‘feelings’ again.”

He ended the transmission.

…

On the other end of the transmission, half a galaxy away, in the Denebria system, Skeletor leaned back on what passed for a throne on the Nordor base. He reached a hand under the collar of his hood and pulled out a chain. A plain, unassuming metal chain, with a plain, unadorned silver ring hanging from it.

Skeletor held the ring in his hand. A plane band. Utilitarian. Silver, because the one who gave it to him felt the gray metal complemented his naturally blue skin better than gold would have. And he was right. The silver had looked very good on his hand, for many years.

But that was a lifetime ago. Skeletor was a different man back then.

He thought about throwing the ring away more than once. It was a hold out from another life. One he left behind and shoulder hold any sway over him anymore. But, each time he tried, something always held him back. Some small voice reminding him, you never know. It might come in handy some time. You never know. Remember: the ring has a twin somewhere out in the universe. On the hand of the second most powerful man in the Empire.

Well, it wouldn’t be on his hand anymore. Prince Hec-Tor would have a new ring now. A new ring to match his new spouse.

Skeletor should throw it away.

He should.

He didn’t need it.

It wasn’t relevant anymore.

He unclipped the chain from around his neck. Holding the ring out in front of him. He could just drop it on the floor and one of the mutants of Nordor would find it and could claim it as their own. It was silver. Who would pass up the chance to claim a precious metal as their own? There might even be a fun fight over it. Or, he could get up and toss it in the garbage compactor. To be squished and compressed in with all the rest of the base’s waste before it was jettisoned into space.

No. Not that. Not the garbage.

Skeletor should throw the ring away. But no method for disposing of the item seemed appropriate to him.

He would just keep it until a solution presented itself.

That was all. That was why he was re-clasping the chain back around his neck and tucking the ring back under his hood. He did not have an appropriate method of disposal. That was it. There was no other reason.

Skeletor stood from the throne.

He needed to get moving too. After Hec-Tor finished with Krytis, Denebria and Nordor would be his next stop. Skeletor had to be gone before then.

He was not ready to meet with Hec-Tor skull to face.

[inmyownlittlecorner5]

Moonlight Chapter 17: Proxy

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 17/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Sixteen+

Chapter Eighteen+ >>

Miranda had been crouching on the tree branch so long that all of her limbs were stiff. It was a comfortably warm day; the trees were budding, the grass had returned, and the nesting birds spoke to the true arrival of spring. She had been tracking a pair of bohemian waxwings for hours, her sharp eyes following the bright yellow tail feathers through the forest, and patiently waiting for them to settle down for an afternoon rest. That hoped for afternoon rest was quickly becoming an evening one, and she did not like the idea of having to use lumos to continue her practice. In her experience, magic tended to startle most animals.

She was about to call it a day, when the birds finally nestled themselves cozily against one another. Miranda felt a bit sorry to disturb them, but she only had another month to perfect her bird-catching technique before the first trial. She and Catalina had been tasked with capturing a pair of Birds of Paradise during the spring migration at the Danube Delta. To make the job more difficult, the birds had to be taken alive.

A quarter of an hour passed in silence while Miranda watched the waxwings on their perch. There was an odd bird call or two, but nothing to disturb her marks. Finally, she flicked her wrist, sending a net over the birds and pulling it tight. The waxwings gave a startled cry and flapped their wings in protest, but they were caught fast. Miranda made her way quickly through the branches to scoop up the net, cooing quietly before drawing her wand.

“Somnus,” she cast, and the captured birds instantly fell fast asleep. Satisfied, Miranda climbed nimbly down the tree and dropped lightly to the ground.

“{Nicely done, Doamnă Rose,}” Vasile Ursu commented.

Miranda’s body automatically tensed at the intruder, but she let herself relax when she recognized his perpetually sad-looking face and bushy eyebrows. She set the captured birds on the ground and carefully removed the net.

“{Thank you, Domnul Ursu,}” she replied, wondering why he had decided to travel to Transylvania. When she had released the birds, she waved her wand over them. They sprang back awake and flapped away, as though their adventure with the strange human had not happened. Miranda watched them until they disappeared into the trees, but she kept Vasile in the corner of her eye as she asked, “{What brings you this far from home?}”

His smile did not quite reach his eyes. “{The pleasant company.}”

After the extremely tense meeting between Doamnă Lupul and the champions, Miranda had not seen the Dragneas or any of their friends. Some of this was certainly due to Miranda’s decision to leave Săpânța as soon as Doamnă Lupul had dismissed her, but she knew that Catalina had been training at the Dragon Sanctuary, just as Miranda was, and their paths had not yet crossed there. Learning to ride a dragon was proving more grueling than Miranda had expected it to be, and so she had decided to keep her silly ‘search’ for Sirius Black as close to the Sanctuary as possible until she got the hang of it. Fortunately, Charlie was an expert at healing burns and broken bones, and she had until the summer to figure it out.

“{Would you care for a cup of coffee, then?}” she asked politely.

“{That would be very good of you,}” Vasile replied, falling into step next to her. For such a large man he was light on his feet and happy to match whatever pace she set. Between Doamnă Lupul, Domnul Dragnea, and Domnul Ursu, Ursu worried her the least. She could tell that he was more powerful than she was, but she could also tell that his nature was a gentle one, and he would not strike unless provoked.

They reached a flower strewn clearing and, at the snap of Miranda’s fingers, a round, purple and silver tent appeared. She was irritated that she would have to move camp so soon after finding this secluded spot, but she was curious enough to know what Ursu had to say that she supposed it was worth the trouble. She led the way up the stairs of the wooden platform and pulled open the carved door, stepping back politely so that Ursu might enter first. He smiled approvingly at the cozy interior, so unlike the No-Maj camping that Miranda had done with her father and brothers as a child. A small, wood burning stove sat on a spiral of bricks in the center of the tent, its smokestack snaking up through the skylight above it. With a flick of Miranda’s wand, a pair of chairs and a little table sprang out of the canvas floor in front of the stove. Another flick started the fire and Vasile took up residence in one of the chairs while Miranda went to the cabinet across from the stove for a kettle of water and the coffee pot.

“{How are the Dragneas these days?}” she asked, waving her wand over the kettle to set the water boiling and digging the coffee and sugar out of the cabinet.

“{They are well,}” Vasile answered evenly. The latest edition of The Quibbler was on the little table and, when he tapped it with his finger, the type rearranged itself into Romanian. He picked it up and began perusing the screaming headline and the picture of the sheepish, scarred boy on the front cover. “{Although they are still angry, if that is what you are asking.}”

The coffee beans were grinding themselves into a fine powder as Miranda pulled the kaymak out of the ice box. She spooned the grounds and the sugar into the pot, poured the water over it, and then started carefully skimming the top off of the kaymak and adding it to a pair of blue and white cups.

“{You’ll have to tell me if I’ve got it right yet,}” she said. “{I am sorry about Doamnă Catalina. I liked her very much.}”

“{She is young. They way she goes now may not be the way she always goes.}”

Miranda leaned against the cabinet and studied the set of Vasile’s broad shoulders. Although his voice was friendly, his body was tense. “{And are you also still angry?}”

“{I was never angry, Doamnă Rose. But I will thank you to keep that to yourself, and I will deny it if you tell anyone.}”

She gave the pot a stir, mentally replaying the conversations she’d had with Vasile in the past. “{I thought you and Domnul Dragnea were close friends.}”

Vasile was still reading The Quibbler, and he answered simply, “{That does not mean that I agree with every choice he makes.}”

The coffee seemed to have reached the proper color, so she poured it carefully into the mugs, trying to leave as much of the grounds in the pot as possible. The dark liquid turned a cheerful, milky brown and she brought the little cups to the table before settling herself in the chair next to Vasile. He put down the magazine and the two of them sipped in silence. Miranda found the hot, sweet drink especially welcome after the long day of bird tracking, and Vasile’s shoulders relaxed as he swallowed.

“{You’ve done well, for a foreigner,}” he said, “{but, next time put the grounds and the sugar in the pot before you boil it. Then it will be perfect.}”

“{Thank you. I will.}”

“{This Voldemort. He murders children?}”

“{He’s a madman. He murders whomever he likes.}”

Vasile took another sip of his coffee, and then sighed heavily. “{I should not stay long, Nicolae is expecting me this evening. But there are important things I have to tell you.}”

Miranda smiled wryly. “{Anything as important as the fact that I’ll die if I leave Romania for longer than three days for the duration of this contest?}” At the end of the meeting in February, Vasile had been kind enough to mention that little stipulation to Miranda. “{Thank you for informing me of that, by the way. It would have been a short competition otherwise. I didn’t realize that I was basically taking an Unbreakable Vow when I signed up for this business.}”

He chuckled. “{Yes, sometimes Doamnă Lupul forgets that the rest of us are not as experienced as she is. She expects everyone to know as much as she does. This is perhaps not as personally important to you, but it will help you just the same.}” Reaching into his robes, he withdrew a long braid of thick, white horse’s hair, and set it reverently on the table between them. “{Do you know what this is?}”

It took all of Miranda’s control to keep her mouth from dropping open. “{It’s unicorn hair. But where did you get so much?}”

He ignored her question. “{I will assume that you know what to do with it. And I will also assume that you understand that I did not give it to you.}”

“{Thank you. I might stand a chance at catching those birds now.}” She ran her fingers over the braid and it was cold to the touch. “{Are you sure?}”

“{Sure about what?}” A real smile wrinkled his face, and he finally seemed to be at ease. “{Be so good as to put that away, if you please.}”

“{Of course.}” Obediently, she gathered the precious hair into her arms and carried it to the scuffed steamer trunk that stood next to the one bookshelf in the tent. It popped open as she approached and she nestled the the gift carefully beneath her clothing before shutting the trunk tight. “{Is there anything else I should know?}”

Vasile’s smile became a grimace. “{It is probably too much to hope that you are an expert potions mistress in addition to being an adventuress.}”

“{That is true, I’m only passable,}” Miranda said honestly as she came back to her chair. “{May I ask why you want to know? I thought that I only had to gather the ingredients for the Iele’s Youth Potion. Won’t they brew it themselves?}”

“{It is not for the Iele, it is for the children. They have been between worlds for so long, that they will need something to help them transition back to this one. Without it, they may die of shock when they return.}”

“{Is this another part of the competition that Doamnă Lupul forgot to mention?}”

“{Something like that.}”

“{Does it have to be me? I may know just the man for the job.}”

“{If he is one of yours, that will do. When can you bring him to me?}”

Miranda frowned, considering how difficult it would be to convince Severus to take a jaunt to Romania. “{Can’t I just bring him the instructions? He’s very accomplished.}”

“{No, it is far too complicated. It will be better if I show him what he must do. Then he can brew it wherever he likes.}”

Well, she’d just have to try. “{Then I’ll bring him in a few weeks, say just before Easter. Will that be enough time?}”

“{Barely, but we will make the best of it.}” He finished his coffee and stood, his joints creaking and popping as he stretched. Miranda stood as well, and he surprised her by putting his hands on her shoulders and leaning down to kiss her on both cheeks. “{Bring him to my cave when you have him.}”

“{I thought you didn’t want to be seen with me.}” she said playfully.

“{Nicolae knows better than to watch my cave too closely.}” He winked at her and started for the door.

“{Domnul Ursu, may I ask why you came to me with this and not to Doamnă Catalina?}”

“{Who says that I haven’t gone to her as well?}”

“{Ah, I see.}”

“{No, you don’t. Not quite. The truth is that Catalina is desperate to prove herself and to win her father’s approval. If I give her the potion, her father will forbid her to share it.}”

“{And you think that I will?}”

He eyed her shrewdly. “{I know that you will.}”

*****

“And then they crashed right into the Whomping Willow!” Arthur Weasley finished through his laughter. “It was a miracle that they didn’t die, and another miracle that Molly didn’t kill them afterwards.”

“That sounds like the time my brother Finnian and I made off with the family truck,” Miranda laughed. “Only without the flying.”

“Did you crash it into a murderous tree, too?”

“Sort of. Neither of us were tall enough to drive it alone, so Fin sat on the floor and worked the pedals while I did the steering. It took us about five minutes to crash into the horse barn and Papa grounded us for six months. I’ve always thought that night had something to do with my becoming a bounty hunter. After facing my livid father, fugitives and monsters seem downright cuddly.”

“I never did anything of the sort when I was young,” Aaron said loftily. “I was perfectly behaved at all times.”

“Says the man who put and Exploding Scarab on my chair in the very first potions class we ever had together.”

“I just wanted to get your attention,” Aaron protested.

“Which you did in spades.”

The three of them were sitting together around Arthur’s desk in his private, if tiny, office, eating pimento cheese sandwiches and Molly Weasley’s lemon cake. Arthur had covered the top of his desk with a faded blue tablecloth, and Miranda had brought a bottle of palinka to share. The fiery plum brandy had given Arthur a coughing fit at the first sip, but Aaron took to it like a duck to water.

“How’s the dragon riding coming?” Aaron asked.

Miranda made a face. “I spend most of my time on the ground at the moment, convincing the dragons that I’m worthy to ride on them. Half the time they decided to scorch me for fun. And when I actually do mount up, I usually can’t keep my seat during take-off. It’s a good thing that Charlie’s around to fix me up afterwards. I’m glad that I have until June to figure it out.”

“You raise horses at home, yes?” Arthur asked.

“We do. Honestly, I’d rather ride a horse than a broom.”

“Do you use magic to help care for them?”

“That’s the funny thing—horses hate magic. Sometimes, if we’re in a big hurry, Fin’ll take the horses out and I’ll use magic to clean the stalls. But the horses can always tell and they’re usually off the next day if I do. So it’s mucking, feeding, and grooming by hand most of the time.”

“What a mess that must make!” Arthur’s face lit up at the idea.

“If you ever make it out to Edgewood, come stay with us and I’ll show you how.”

“Only if you teach me to ride one too.”

“Of course! You should come and bring the family. It’d be a hoot!”

“Speaking of hoots and your family,” Aaron put in, “could you please tell Conor to leave the physical wards the Aurors set alone?”

“I told you he was no good at being baby-sat,” Miranda replied. “He says he can’t sleep with strange wards around. But I thought you had Malfoy under control. He was perfectly polite today.”

“I’ve got him for the moment, but Rachel says Narcissa’s been excited lately because Lucius has something big in the works. Can’t be too careful.”

“I see. I’ll talk to Papa, but I can’t promise anything. If Mama bakes some cookies for the Aurors, will that help them keep their patience with Papa?”

“Couldn’t hurt to try.”

“I’m constantly amazed at what good baking can accomplish,” Arthur observed.

“And how.” Aaron finished his palinka and poured another round, topping off Arthur’s mostly full glass despite the man’s mild protest. “Arthur, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“I hope it doesn’t involve anything too dangerous. Molly thinks I’m in deep enough as it is.”

“No, not dangerous. It’s about the baby.”

“Is everything all right?” Miranda asked sharply.

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine,” Aaron replied, waving his hand to shush Miranda’s clucking. “It’s about the baptism. My brother, Jeremiah, is going to be godfather, but he insists there’s no way he can make it to the actual ceremony. We’re going to have it as soon after the birth as possible, and Rachel and I were wondering if you’d mind being proxy godfather.”

“A stand in? I think I can do that,” Arthur grinned. “It would be an honor.”

“It’ll be a quiet to do, but we’d love it if Molly came too.”

“Only if you’ll let her fuss over your lovely wife.”

“It’s a deal. To Arthur and the baby,” Aaron toasted. The three clinked glasses and sipped, and Arthur managed not to cough this time. Aaron gave Miranda a teasing grin and asked, “You think that fella of yours would want to come?”

Miranda snorted at the idea of Severus at a baptism. “I’m guessing no, but I’ll ask him, if only to see his eyebrow start twitching at the idea.” She did an impressive imitation of Severus’s irritated expression, the one that was just on the cusp of anger, and Aaron choked on his palinka.

“I don’t know this chap, do I?” Arthur asked. “I feel as though I’ve seen that expression before.”

“You do,” Miranda laughed. “He’s tortured all of your children for years in potions classes at Hogwarts.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open when he realized who Miranda meant, and he threw back his head, laughing. “You…and Severus…no!”

“You’re the second person who’s laughed out loud at the thought,” Miranda commented good-naturedly.

Arthur choked his laughter into a cough, turning red in the face. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. It’s just that you are so cheerful and he is so…not.”

“What can I say? He won me over with his sunny disposition. But don’t be sorry, I know we make an odd pair.”

A bright red cuckoo bird popped out of the clock on the wall, chirping the hour. Arthur gave the thing a frown, but said reluctantly, “I’m afraid I have to get back to work, I’ve a pile of leads to research before my afternoon meetings. But I will have the pleasure of seeing you in a month, I hope.”

“You can count on it,” Miranda said.

“Wonderful, I look forward to it.”

There was a bustle of wand flicking, dirty dishes cleaning themselves and stacking neatly, and the tablecloth rolling up and flying back to its place on top of the filing cabinet. Arthur shook hands with Aaron and gave Miranda warm hug.

“Good luck, Miranda,” he said. “Give my love to Charlie.”

“I will,” she promised, but her smile had fallen away. “Arthur, I hate to be a bother, but I should probably ask you not to tell anyone about Severus and I. Security, you know?”

A kind, thoughtful expression replaced the mirth on Arthur’s face. “Of course, I understand. It wouldn’t be safe for either of you if it were common knowledge. That must be difficult.”

She shrugged. “It is what it is. Thank you for understanding.”

*****

“Do you have time to come by and see Rachel now, or are you going straight over to Hogwarts?” Aaron asked when he and Miranda reached the street.

“I’d love to,” Miranda agreed. “Severus has to teach one of those private lessons that he hates tonight, so I have some time to kill.”

“How are those going?”

“I don’t ask, but I gather that they’re going very badly.” She rolled her eyes. “Between you and me, I don’t think that teaching is the best career for him. If we’d had a teacher like him at Ilvermorny, we’d have blown up his office in protest and been expelled.”

Aaron laughed. “We still could, if you think it would help.”

“I’ll let you know.”

*****

“Reparo,” Severus hissed through clenched teeth. The shattered jars flew back together and floated silently to their places on the shelves. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done to salvage their contents, and he berated himself for the waste as he vanished the mess before it could spread any further across his office floor. The fit had done nothing to calm his anger either, although it had perhaps prevented him from murdering Potter.

How dare he? How dare that brat poke his arrogant head into the Pensieve? Severus had clearly ordered the boy to leave his office so that he could clean up yet another Gryffindor produced mess. Graham Montague had almost killed himself escaping from the no-man’s-land inside the vanishing cabinet. It did seem that the Slytherin would make a full recovery, but for Severus then to return to his office and find Potter relishing one of the worst moments of his life? It was the final straw. He didn’t care what Albus said—he would never teach Potter private lessons again and, as soon as possible, the boy would be out of potions classes forever. At this moment, Severus didn’t care if the Dark Lord did take over Potter’s mind. In fact, if the Dark Lord were to summon Severus right now and demand that he hand over Potter immediately, Severus would be hard pressed to resist the temptation to fulfill the order, promises be damned.

Mess cleared away, he stormed out of his office. The thought of being disturbed by either a student or a staff member was more than he could bear. He needed to be alone. He dodged one of the Weasley twins’ infernal fireworks and mused that what he really wanted was to leave Hogwarts and never see it again. At least it was Wednesday and he would not have to look at Potter’s arrogant face again until after the Easter Holidays. Except in the Great Hall of course; Merlin, why was this his life?

Murder was still on his mind as he jerked open the door to his quarters, relieved to be somewhere private. Baring a total disaster, no one would dare to bother him here. He stepped into the sitting room, closed the door, and stopped short.

“Are the fireworks in my honor? Darling, you shouldn’t have,” Miranda said, smiling up at him. She was lounging in his chair, her legs draped over one of the arms, a book on her lap. “Rachel said to let you know that she’ll have some research to send your way in a week or two…”

Her voice trailed off and those grey eyes that always seemed to see more than he meant to show her studied him intently. Finally she asked lightly, “Bad day?”

“You have no idea,” he muttered. Merlin’s beard, he didn’t want to see anyone—not even her. Miranda with her slew of friends and her lovely family and her perfect life. How could she possibly understand? He ground his teeth together until he could feel a muscle in his jaw start twitching in an effort to stop himself from spewing forth the tirade that was building inside him. He wanted to explode at someone and she was sitting right here, patiently waiting for him to say something.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked calmly.

Curse her. Curse her and her concerned look, and her beautiful face, and her graceful body. Curse her for caring. Curse her for being kind when he only wanted to be cruel. Curse her for being here when he wanted to be alone.

“Just go away,” he growled, stalking past her to his desk. He sat down heavily, his back firmly to her, and started viciously marking a scroll. His hand moved evenly while his rage pounded inside him, and he was glad to vent his spleen on an essay so full of idiotic mistakes. After a moment, he heard Miranda put her book in her bag, slide off the chair, and head for the door. The silence was palpable, but he did nothing to break it, he simply kept writing and waiting for her to be gone. She paused at the door, set her bag on the ground, and soon her light step was crossing the room to him. Curse her, why wouldn’t she leave?

His already rigid shoulders tensed even more when she put her hands on them, and he stubbornly kept writing, attempting to ignore her touch.

“I thought I told you to leave,” he said acidly.

“You did,” she replied. “I’ll go in a minute.”

Her strong fingers went to work on his shoulders, expertly finding every knot of tension and coaxing it away. She went slowly, as though she had all the time in the world and nothing better to do with it than patiently draw the anger out of his body.

His quill slipped out of his fingers and he murmured, “You are insufferable.”

“I know.”

Gradually, his head drooped forward and he gave himself up to the sensation. She really had no business being so nice to him. Didn’t she realize how arrogant, petty, and cruel he was? But he was also selfish and, if she wanted to waste her time with him, who was he to complain about it?

He did not know how much time passed before she slowed her pace to a halt. She placed a kiss on the top of his head and went back to the door without saying another word. He heard her pick up her bag and turn the knob. In another moment, she would be gone and he would finally be alone. But, for some reason, that no longer seemed so important.

“Wait,” he ordered quietly. “I’m coming with you.”

*****

“I have to go back early tomorrow,” she reminded him over coffee and tea in the morning. They were sitting together in her cabin, reading the paper over breakfast. He was dressed except for his frock coat, and she was lounging in her dressing gown, her feet comfortably resting on his lap under the table.

“I remember,” he replied as he idly stroked her bare legs with one hand. “I’ll be finished with classes by mid-afternoon.”

“Are you coming back here, or do you want me to come to you?”

“At the moment, I wish to see as little of Hogwarts as possible.”

“Does that mean that you’re going to keep yourself in the dungeons all day?”

“It is best for Potter’s life expectancy that I do.”

“Then could you please let the house elves feed you lunch?”

“No.” He could feel his lips tug into a smile. It amused him how much it annoyed her when he skipped meals.

Predictably, she let out an irritated sigh. “Then you’ll be a ravenous beast when you get here.”

“Fortunately, you happen to be a bounty hunter. Dealing with ravenous beasts is your specialty.”

“I guess it is,” she said, sounding resigned. “And my brothers will never let me hear the end of it if they find out I’m on a case collecting ingredients for magical femme fatale beauty cream. Although, anymore, they’re only impressed when I take down vampires and werewolves on my own.”

He felt his mood darken and he fixed her with a sharp glare. “I thought we agreed that you were no longer hunting werewolves.”

She raised her hands in protest. “I’m not! At least, not until the tebo hide is ready to stitch into a tunic. Then I’ll be protected from pesky things like werewolf claws.”

“In that case, I suppose I should be grateful to have another six months of peace while it cures,” he said, going back to the paper.

“What are you going to do for the Easter Holidays?” she asked casually.

“The usual. Marking scrolls. Running hither and yon at Albus’s and the Dark Lord’s capricious whims.”

“Why don’t you come visit me?”

His eyes snapped up from the paper and the impish gleam in her eyes unnerved him. What was she up to now? “No. I couldn’t possibly.”

“Why not? I can meet you at the Merry Cemetery on Friday evening when you’re finished here. I get the feeling that a break from all this would do you good.”

Merlin, she was like a siren. “What if I were summoned?” he objected.

“You’d take my port-key to my cabin and be no later than if you had to walk outside of the wards at Hogwarts from your rooms in the dungeon.”

“I doubt that either the Dark Lord or Albus would be pleased with my leaving the country.” He set down the paper, gave her legs a final squeeze, and pushed them off of his lap before rising to collect his frock coat.

She picked up his half of the paper and asked matter-of-factly, “Why do they need to know?”

“It is strange, but each of them seems to think that he is my master.”

“Here and I thought you were an expert Occlumens.”

“I am,” he said testily as he swiftly did up the buttons of his coat.

“So, don’t tell them. And, if they ask, just lie.”

He scoffed at her audacity although the thought of defying both Albus and the Dark Lord was enticing at the moment. As he pondered this, he went back to the table and put his hands on her shoulders.

“You are a terrible influence,” he chided.

She leaned her head back in order to look up at him, her eyes wide and innocent. “Come on, you know you miss me. And it won’t do anyone much good if you murder Potter.”

Her breath tickled his throat when he bent down to kiss her, and her lips were as sweet and tempting as her ridiculous idea.

“You may, perhaps, have a point,” he allowed.

“About you missing me, or about the merits of you not killing Potter?”

“Have I mentioned how amusing it is to watch you fish for compliments?”

“And have I mentioned that women like to hear them once in a while?”

He dropped one more kiss on her forehead. “I should think it were obvious, but if you must have it in so many words then, yes, I miss you.”

She went back to the paper, but not before he saw the blush that spread over her cheeks. For some strange reason he found it utterly charming that she was such a brazen woman, and yet she could still blush.

“Think about my invitation, will you?” she asked as he plucked his cloak off the hook by the door and pulled it on.

He cleared his throat in order to assume his sternest and most disapproving professor voice. “I will think about it. But I will probably say no.”

The note of laughter in her good-bye made him suspect that he had succeeded in sounding neither disapproving, nor stern.

She really was a terrible influence.

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

End Note:

Kaymak is something like clotted cream.

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

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Sixteen+

Chapter Eighteen+ >>

[amazildoessomethingstupid]

Chapter 100: High Expectations

Alright, this time for real. We’re going to be diving into Chapter 100: High Expectations.  Which is fairly ironic given how my sources on the recent chapters actually didn’t have much to say about this chapter.  Which hasn’t been an actual thing since Chapter 96: Unspoken Rule. So contrary to the title of the chapter, I actually have no real expectations going into this thing, which means this is either going to be really boring and uninteresting, or…

Taeshi can do what Taeshi does best.

In either case, we start with the now ever-present Moody Mike.  Upset about his burnt to atomic ashes relationship with Lucy, his completely absent shell of a relationship with Sandy and more.  Actually now that I think about it, that’s something I haven’t really gotten into with these rants.  NEW MIKE! I guess I never felt the need to since Moody Mike has been a mainstay for a while long before these recent chapters, and it seems that for the most part the chapters seemed to be more focused on Paulo, Daisy, Abbey, and occasionally Mike.  And in the chapters where it was centered more around him, there wasn’t much to really comment on with his behavior as it was just Mike being Mike. And often times he’d be skirted off in lieu of shit and characters we actually cared about. Speaking of which,

Daisy nabs Paulo a chocolate pudding from the cafeteria, and I honestly love Paulo in this scene.  It feels like his character in the dialogue, although I will say I have no idea what public school serves shit like this.  I know my high school never had any dessert of any kind. The closest thing to that, would be either stuff you bought from clubs doing sales, or strawberry milk or if you were lucky vanilla milk.  If you switched that pudding for strawberry milk motherfucker, I would actually be Paulo in this situation.  For a highschool teen that shit was the bomb.  Oh and Mike’s being a grouch but who gives a shit.

Of course this leads to some ship baiting between Paulo and Daisy, but I don’t have any problems with it. I think it’s cute, and all but of course

It comes with a bit of stipulation…Hey Abbey did Sue’s actual words of wisdom sink in?  Did you listen?

Guess not.  Oh well, I guess we’re just being reminded that yes Abbey does still resent Paulo, and Paulo is still scared of Abbey.  Anyway, what’s this chapter really about?  Are we going to finally get into Mike’s problem with Sandy?

D’awww look at that.  That is just precious.

Awwww, she thinks she’s an actual character!  Cute, but seriously what’s this chapter about?

Oh, we’re actually staying on this subject?  Fuck, alright then. Let’s go Abbey, tell us again about how you feel like we haven’t heard it before.  I’m sure even though Susan hasn’t gotten through to you, and neither has Daisy, I’m sure that Jasmine will be the one to finally reach you! (also, I just realized that hand is a bit too detailed for the style now that I’m looking at it, it’s like it’s someone else’s hand there it’s so jarring)

Yes, Abbey.  Because everyone else is able to build their opinions based on contextual knowledge about both Paulo and Daisy, and are able to have empathy for both parties and see the good and the flaws in Paulo to realize that he’s not that bad of a person, and people who want to say that he’s nothing but a selfish womanizing idiot either don’t understand the nuance of his character, or are purposefully ignoring the actual good of his character not only in recent chapters with his pussification, but also his supportive and defensive nature towards loved ones in earlier volumes.

Well holy shit, Jasmine color me surprised.  You said something in-line to building your character!  It’s almost as if, you having been in a relationship with Paulo understand that he’s more than what others like Abbey see in him!  He’s more than just a flirt, he’s not that fucking bad.  IN FACT!

I am legitimately happy about Jasmine’s character in this scene.  She’s putting her foot down, she’s showing how supporting she can be, but also holding to her own strong morals.  Abbey on the other hand is still acting like a little bitch boy who’s upset he can’t have it his way.

Then you’re what?

I would’ve gone with “hypocrite” but all very good answers. I’m very proud of all of you.

Trying to force your loved ones to turn their back on someone they also care about, and making the situation worse by judging them for making their own decisions on who they hang out with on the other hand… Yeah that’s kind of a bad thing to do.  Especially since, I…

Don’t actually remember much about Abbey ever really supporting Daisy in what she does…  Like we’re hammered over the head about how Daisy is helping Abbey, going to therapy, taking his side, going to bat for him. But I’m not sure about Abbey doing similar for her.  Like, when did Abbey go to Daisy’s cheer meets?  Or try to get himself involved with things she loves?  I mean, did Abbey even know that Daisy was interested in that author dude at the convention?  Did Abbey ever take notice to what Daisy wants?  Did he ever really shush out her insecurities about feeling unattractive outside of just being there?  

I just realized, there’s a question we’ve been missing this entire time…Was Abbey ever really a good boyfriend for Daisy? Huh…I may have to think about this one.

Anyway, Jasmine talks some sense into the boy, and like I said she shows how she can be supportive and understanding.  And also

Yeeeaah… Uhhh…  I really want to get into that “breakup” but I feel that’d be too long of an aside.  Imma just put it on the backburner and let you finish.

But yeah, Jasmine ends up making a good case for Paulo, and I find it very nice honestly!  It’s a very good reprive from the bullshit anger she had towards Paulo back in the Garbage Pick Up chapter.  It is kind of wishy washy how she goes back to being like “Oh yeah, Paulo’s not a bad person and doesn’t deserve so much hatred.” After how she badmouthed him before, but that badmouthing in itself was bullshit so it kind of counters out and I’ll take it if it means that Jasmine can be her own fucking person with her own fucking opinions based on her own experience now.  Although she still retains a bit of her cocksleeve status, as Abbey accepts this and it seems that NOW he’s starting to get the message.  I guess he has no choice, if he gives Jasmine the same treatment as Susan, or Daisy of disregarding their advice he’d be shit out of luck.  This is the last character who somewhat matters that isn’t in a relationship, Abbey.  Don’t fuck it up.  And before you say Rachel is available now, FUCK YOU SHE DOES NOT DESERVE THAT.  SHE DESERVES BETTER THAN ABBEY.

Anyway, we’re back to the actually important characters and Paulo is freaking out.   Which y’know, is pretty understandable given how Abbey’s lashing out was pretty unprompted and out of nowhere.  So it would make sense for Paulo to think the same would happen. But apparently, Moody Mike is not having it and is insistent on making this chapter about him.  

Oh my god are we doing this? Oh shit, are we trading victim cards here?  First of all, Mike your victim card doesn’t work with that statement because as far as I remember, Lucy never attacked you out of fucking nowhere when you were just hanging out with your friend and doing them a favor.  It was usually because you were being a little annoying prick.  But more importantly, just fucking stop with that okay?  This isn’t fucking Yu-Gi-Oh, you shouldn’t use your fucking victim card as a fucking excuse for being an uncaring asshole to your friends’ problems.  Which is especially infuriating given how when Paulo was assaulted,

You were the first person who showed actual genuine concern for Paulo after being assaulted.  And it seemed you continued to do so, with your friendship with him being strengthened and finding common ground!  But oh, nope can’t have that because now you’re having a bad time and oh no Sandy’s not giving you attention, so you need to be bitchy to everyone else so they can give you attention.  Oh boy!  Mike, I have noticed how I’ve been very light on you in these recent chapters.  So thank you.  Thank you for giving me this opportunity to finally show some o dat good ol’ Mike hate!

And it seems that this turn of character is not lost on Paulo too!  And I gotta say, I hate how Paulo had been turned to a more passive character.  But oh my god, this shit right here.  

Mwah, that’s the good shit. Oh Paulo, you absolute mad lad I applaud you in actually making valid points towards Mike and calling him out for his bullshit.  

Things start to get heated, as Paulo snatches Mike’s phone to get his attention so he can finally talk about what the fuck his problem is.  And oh man, that fucking burn.  OOF damn Paulo you are savage.  However, Mike brings up a good counterpoint.

Jesus Christ, Mike you were not kidding!  And to top it off, Mike’s using his fucking levitation powers to bring the smackdown too! He’s not even standing on a chair or anything, this man is going full Carrie mode!

Anyway, Mike storms away from the table and… I just realized something again.  Weren’t Rachel, Madison, Jess and Matt also at the table? Wouldn’t they have a few things to say about this situation? (actually now that I think about it I don’t think I’d like to hear Madison chime in with her usual demeanor on this situation) but for real where are they?  We set that up in Table for One, but I just realized it’s never actually been utilized for anything.  Did they just leave after Paulo and Rachel broke up?  What a pointless plot point, that only lasted for one day.  Anyway, at least we’re getting into what this chapter’s actually about I guess…What is this chapter about?

Oh shit, are we getting a resurgence of Sue?!  Between this and the birthday party, Sue is finally being the character she’s supposed to be!  Praise be! And look!

She’s showing off her character!  She cares, she’s trying to be proactive, she’s being a fucking character again! Yes!  These are good talking points!  Work it out!  Give me more!

Oh you blue balling piece of shit.  How dare you deny me the rare Good Sue.  Fine then, we’ll focus on Paulo, what’s he doing now?

Running away in a panic, alright then… I’m glad I’m missing out on an actual straight talk between a sensible Sue and Moody Mike for this.  Whatever, where are you going with this?

Okay, he passes by Abbey who is seemingly happier now with his new friends.  An obvious punch to make Paulo feel guilty about Abbey.  Whatever, we’re not focusing on that.  Where are we going?  Is Paulo going to the nurse or something?  Actually, y’know what?  Where are the student aids?  Like, when I went to high school I remember you couldn’t pass two halls without bumping into an adult student aid who was watching the kids for this kind of shit. Where are the student aids?  Or the On-Campus-Officers?  Was my rinky dink coconut public high school somehow more well-equipped than this high school that apparently can serve DESSERT in the cafeteria?! Where the adults in this situation?!  Where the hell are we going?!

Oh…shit…

Oh no…

OH! OH NOW WE’RE CONTINUING WITH SUE AND MIKE?!  NOW WE’RE DOING THIS SHIT?  WHY?! WHY ARE YOU DOING IT LIKE THIS?! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST FOCUS ON ONE FUCKING THING, YOU WERE DOING SO WELL BEFORE! Oh whatever, if I bitch about the pacing here now we’ll never get out of here.  At least Sue is talking sense, and trying to actually be proactive and figure out what’s wrong.  And I like how it doesn’t take long for her to deduce the problem too.

BAM! OBLIGATORY JANUARY REFERENCE! GET IT IN THERE BABY! WE BEEN LONG OVERDUE!

Anyway, Sue is actually trying to piece things together to try and solve this problem, but Moody Mike has evolved into Defensive December Mike!  The worst Mike of all.  Deflecting and lashing out at everyone else, screaming at people in order fix his problems by not dealing with his problems at all.  Digging into the past bullshit to excuse what’s going on now, guilt tripping people by using the actions he let them get away with as leverage.  This is the sort of Mike that made people hate Mike.

Luckily, Sue just walks away in an honestly pretty somber moment.  Poor Sue, actually trying to help for once but always being shot down and disregarded.  But as Mike lashes out at her again, she drops the mic saying one final thing for Mike to simmer on.

Oh wait, no that was the mic drop from January for Mike.  Where Daisy tells Mike that his negligence towards his own problems has caused a clear divide that can not be tolerated anymore and is driving everyone away. And how it’s unfair for him to force upon his friends to deal with and solve his problems for him.  But for real, what’s the actual ending?

Oop!  Wait, sorry nope that was me again channeling January.  What Sue actually says is!

Well that’s…underwhelming.

Seriously?  “You’re so unpleasant”?  “I can’t let you talk to me this way”?  That’s it?!  That’s all you have to say?  Come on, you were doing so well with Sue in this scene.  All jokes aside, I actually liked her appearance here! I appreciated this scene!  But this is the fucking mic drop?!  This is what Sue says to Mike after getting yelled at, and realizing that he’s gone too far for her to help?  Come on, you can do better than that Taeshi! Anyway, let’s check in on Paulo and Lucy I guess.

Oh boy, look!

See guys?  It’s just like Lacey predicted!  Everyone is so judgy and hating her just because she’s hanging out with Augustus!  See? Lucy was right, an-

I don’t want to hurt anymore… Please stop.

Well I guess we’re not done with the melodrama and shouting, but I will say that Paulo is making sense here. He’s not just deflecting or arguing that this is about something else, like Mike.  

However, it seems that this comic only allows for one person per scene to have a braincell and Paulo is hogging it all.  While Lacey is still being her cold and uncaring self.  Paulo here, while seeming to be the clear aggressor is very clear at least for why he is upset and making good points. Lucy on the other hand is taking the Mike approach and…

Deflecting the problem by making it seem about how it’s Paulo’s problem and not hers anymore because she is wiping her hands clean of her past relationships.  Sure.  Alright guy.

At least Paulo is retaining his one brain cell to see through this bullshit, and call out the problem! Y’know… LIKE HOW HE USED TO BE!  AND HOW HE SHOULD’VE BEEN!  NOT WANTING TO LEAVE A PROBLEM ALONE WHEN HE SEES IT, AND TRY TO ARGUE TO UNDERSTAND WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!  

But of course, Lacey is Lacey, and Lacey doesn’t care because why should she?  She never cared about Paulo or anyone else’s feelings since her return, and has only done things for her own self interest because that’s her character now I guess.  Whatever. Y’know…if you told me three years ago that in three years I’d end up hating and bashing on Lucy more than Mike…I won’t say I wouldn’t believe you, because I’m cynical enough to believe any bullshit you tell me about what happens in the future of this comic.  But I don’t think I would have been able to take this bullshit.

But in either case, Lucy’s uncaring attitude is starting to make Paulo breakdown, and I find myself siding with Paulo a bit.  I mean, yes she fucking does owe them some fucking answers, or a cursory status update. But of by the end of this page of course it goes back to the shipping which is of course the main purpose of almost all conflicts in BCB.  And we’re reminded again of the carnival chapter when…

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!

OH GOD!  I PICTURED IT AGAIN!  IT WON’T FUCKIGN LEAVE!  NO! STOP! PLEASE STOP FUCKING BRINGING THAT SHIT UP!  IT DIDN’T HAPPEN IT DIDN’T HAPPEN IT DIDN’T HAPPEN IT’S NOT CANON NOT CANON NOT CANON NOT CANON NOT CANON!

I am right there with you Paulo…

Why does Ms. Vera torture us like this?  Why can’t she just write a main character who is likeable, healthy, and stable, who makes sense?  Why must she tease us with this false idol of a character whom we once loved, cared about, and worshipped?  Were we not good enough?  Have we not suffered enough?  Where did we go wrong?

But finally, finally, Lacey shows some fucking remorse in seeing how her absence, and actions have affected the ones she cared about, as Paulo slinks away a sobbing mess.

Leaving Lacey to stand there, looking at the damage she has done and silently reevaluate where she stands in all of this.  A powerful scene that plants the seed for what should be inner turmoil in Lacey’s character that will no doubt follow her in the future…

Okay, that’s the last fake out I promise.  But for real, the first time I read this scene this ending felt weird.  Like, Paulo slinking away saying “Fuck it, I get it. It’s a lost cause, nevermind you obviously don’t care about how I or anyone feels.” is a very strong note, but it gets undercut by these last two almost pitifully spiteful panels.  It’s like the same problem I had with the previous scene, in that the ending is not as strong as the rest of the scene deserved it to be.  

But even though that is a strong enough note to end on, we are not done yet it seems as Daisy meets up with Paulo again to talk about what just happened.  The subject ends up turning back to Lucy, and Augustus but…

Paulo doesn’t tell Daisy about her hanging out with Augustus.  I guess to save face, and not upset her but honestly I don’t care enough about this to dig too deep.  There’s been 3 big scenes I’ve had to talk about here already, I don’t have the mind to care about this either.  

But anyway, the chapter ends with Paulo denouncing the false prophet Lucy and again setting sail on that Paulo X Daisy ship.   And that is the end.

So all in all, this chapter for what it is, is at least seemingly progressing these conflicts by bringing them to the forefront once more.  We’re again acknowledging Mike’s unstable relationship with Sandy, which has now reached a boiling point.  Lacey has finally had someone stand up and call her out for her flippant and cold nature. And Abbey has seemingly found a new home and is choosing to side with Jasmine to not let Paulo bother him so much.

Now the real question is: Will any of these progressions come up soon, or make a real difference in these characters for the better?

I give this chapter a 4/10. I would go lower, but it has promise and there were good points brought up.  I’d go higher, but it falls on its face at the end a few too many times.  We’ll just have to wait and see where it goes.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

40, 47, 59, 62, 76

lmao hell yeah thanks for All this support i love it!! quastions

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

really idk i feel like even our schools’s Antics were pretty par for the course and i was just sitting in the corner reading the whole time basically......trying to think if anything wild happened in college but even then it was p similar. well you know what, whatever donors covered the majority of the cost of the school’s black box theater being renovated apparently Stipulated that every other year a rodgers and hammerstein production be put on. absolute freaks. my roommate/friend and their then-boyfriend, the one mormon i have Knowingly Known in my life, were in pirates of penzance (sic?) together. hilarious

47. favorite type of cheese?

i like cheddar and like, parmesan, smoked gouda.....let’s get that shit Sharp!!! and hard lmao

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

idk i’d be like an npc just doing their weird thing on their own. i’ve never played pokemons unless you count pokemons Go but i think about the famed “i like shorts they’re comfy and easy to wear” npc kid. like, yeah. i feel the same. and would say similar bullshit nobody asked about

62. seven characters you relate to?

oh god.........recognizing the self through the relatable characters :|

well let’s just talk about the wrol roles right off b/c the characters that Most occupy my gay thoughts (which is to say: my general thoughts) will inevitably get priority when it comes to Remembering things

1) whom among us doesn’t relate to jared kleinman........will roland emerging from relative obscurity and coming for our entire fucking lives like the goddamn legend he is. it’s tough b/c it’s like, oh well alana is relatable too, so is evan unfortunately sorry evan, and in ways i might ~usually act~ like one of those two more than jared but. no. it is Jared who wins the relatability contest, and we all get to be beautifully haunted by it forever

2) leaning hard into winston even with the few glimpses of him b/c somehow will Cannot play an allistic cishet. and this is even More of a case where maybe i don’t much have winston’s demeanor.......even without winston being a beacon of confidence, he has more confidence lmao. and he has that ability to just Be Himself in a situation which, i wish i had that moxie lmao. i am a lot more [usually trying to be accommodating wayyyy harder than i should], booo......even though he’s clearly not great at conflict considering how it doesn’t take Too much to put him out, it’d be pretty impossible for me to be all “called them hacks and lame” or carry out a very irritated monologue in front of four people in the first place lmao. but who knows. and it’s more in the details of like, oh no winston’s the odd one out even though he hasn’t really Done Anything, but we all ~understand~ why he Deserves it.........his expectation / treating it basically as Fact that he will disappoint people.......the [weird] [offputting] behaviors and his way of speaking in What he Says and How He Says It seeming wrong to people.......like it’s only 15-ish min of content that we have here and we don’t have the least info about will’s own thoughts on the character but it’s like. how is this such an iconic Gay Autistic Quant b/c these vibes are so rare. and i appreciate that he can be ~difficult~ lmao. same with jared though i didn’t mention it. i can be difficult!! love it for us...

3) briony atkins from murder of bindy mackenzie as a character who Does act more like how i Usually Act Like lmao.....god we’re only on three i forgot there was seven of these. and yet i know there’s probably at least 2 dozen characters who could make this list and i just won’t think of most of them unless directly reminded......but anyways yeah i mean in person i mostly do Not want attention unless i feel comfortable enough / in my element or whatever. especially if it’d be some situation like “sitting in a group of randos” lol. i mean it depends b/c i also can sometimes be ~on~ in terms of Masking and trying to be like Haha I’m Social I’m Regular and i def engage in Nervous Chatter sometimes, but like, very often it’s like god don’t talk to me and i don’t want to talk either.....and then yeah people Will be surprised that like, idk, i’m opinionated as shit and idk that i Enjoy Things / Have Thoughts And Feelings coz the assumption i guess is that you must simply have nothing to say. so the dismissal of this person who seemingly has nothing to contribute and must be Boring rings true lmfao.....but then of course it’s also important that her personality Under that is the one getting mistaken for emily’s lol cuz yeah At Heart i am sure of that dramatic / intense / excitable type Sometimes. but it takes some excavation before i am like “oh i can engage in my actual self” and like weeks and months to get comfortable w/ people and i’m always suspicious that anyone actually would enjoy it and i’m not too much......i am a motormouth actually and have something to say about any and everything and like to Have Fun Here but like. idk i come off as boring and can be Notably Quiet lmao

4) oscar martinez from the office is weirdly [Haha Same] sometimes lmfao. sort of keeps to himself but also has to pipe up with Opinions and Pedantry and the kind of Drama of a restrained theatre gay. some deleted scene from an episode where during an interview clip of Jimothy in a theater lobby and you have oscar call from across the group in that [wearied Ugh God] way of ‘jim, they’re remaking ___’ while jim just kind of gives a cursory “wow gosh” or whatever and like, i sure don’t have lots of Theatre Opinions but that “oh jeez i have a Take on this and have to share it with someone” vibe is like hahaha yeah.....it’s funny in the “the gang goes to the ice rink for a third of the ep” bit where you just catch oscar doing [ice skating turn] with some solemn intensity.......the “here’s a question nobody’s asking: is this worth it” quote.........way at the end where there’s a whole deal with one of the indoor plants and he’s like “why is it a He” @ the collective gendering of the houseplant lmfao.......i love the one thing where he and pam and uhh toby right? have the Finer Things book club or whatever and jim wants to join just like ~ironically~ and pam has to tell him that oscar doesn’t want him to join b/c he’s not going to take it seriously and use it as a Jokes Vehicle. and then you get the scene at the end where jim Is basically doing that and they’re just like taking it out of him and oscar’s all very seriously like “did you get it all out of your system” lmfao like yeah, earnest members only lmao.....the thing where he gets mad at angela’s like Jazz Musician Posed Babies posters all “it’s kitsch it Destroys art” lmaoooo and in a totally different season all “this is the problem with debate” over the completely inconsequential “is [whichever actress, i forget] Hot” “”””debate””””.......the whole tendency to get involved and always have a take to get across.....opinionated-sometimes-to-the-point-of-petty central. also that he’s the canon gay, are there even any others? anyways and as the us office’s spiritual successor i’ll add on to this by uh what’s the name of billy eichner’s character on parks and rec? it’s craig right. that Self-Powered Intensity is very #me as well.

5) augh god........im like lmfao shit who represents my Hater Club side. hmmm. oh no wait you know what. totally different but i love Prof Beatrice Hotchkiss in the trt nancy drew pc game. she’s holed up in her room writing all the time and just is weird when you try to talk to her all like no i won’t open the door, bring me food, do this Research, bring me my Ski Boots i guess......and then when you do meet her it’s all at like post-midnight in the lounge and she’s all like, encouraging you as a Night Owl and your investigative curiosity and all and i’m like oh word yeah being up in the dead of night is the shit. she’s just weird and passionate and this is another character i might not Act hardly at all like but who i vibe with lmfao. hotchkiss was the supportive adult in my life

6) remembering how hotchkiss is a historian made me think of academia which made me think of like, once again with “these vibes are So So Rare” i really ought to put the wrol role of Nato on the list cuz like. that essential representation of “gets gr8 grades but isn’t really ~academic~ / doesn’t care about that and really just cares about Hanging W Friends and [real specific interests]” is like wow damn that’s the Mood. coz like to an extent i can always Relate to the ~overachiever~ types a la the [nerd character gets all-A’s and other nerd shit] deal, but there’s eventually the issue of like.....those characters like bindy mackenzies and alana becks Care about their achievements (not exclusively as some ppl would have it 9_9) and are Studious whereas i always hated school and was a godawful student in terms of Habits and always got good grades b/c the devil was with me or something and like people will think i must have tried real hard and dedicated myself to Academics and stuff and it’s like.........no................not at all hardly, sure i did my hw every night but at like 11:29 pm or studied for a midterm at lunch right before the class lol or flipped through a lil bit of the sat study guide the night prior.........the “low-effort dumbass who Academically Excels Anyhow” representation is so crucial like!! i run into a wall when it’s the Good Grades nerd character who is real studious and focused and stuff like. couldn’t be me. meanwhile the “naturally weird + probably some ‘deliberate’ weirdness” and “likes animals” and “most likely to just wanna Roll With It” and “shitty focus lol” and “non sequiturs” and “without [activity] i do nothing” is all like....ahahahohoho..........nato rly got to make this list. and honorable mention for Wrol Jeremy. again: whom doesn’t relate!!!!!!!!

7) damnit i know there’s So many answers to [characters i relate to] and whom cover like, more particular Facets here but i’m struggling lmao. Uh. like i’m like, who’s the Hot Mess / continually evolving disaster characters i vibe with......who’s the peak despresso detached Haters rep......who embodies the solo production lifestyle........dammit you know what lol i tend to Feel for like, the background ~nobodies~ who might just get like totally destroyed in some movie with life or death stakes just to like, show how much danger our heroes / Important Complex Protags are. same w/ jeremy not feeling like the Hero / the one who the story’s about / the cool guy / player 1 / etc etc etc i’m like oo i’d be the npc who doesn’t really do anything, i’d be the rando getting blown away in the background of someone else’s story. on a totally different note another shoutout / honorable mention to wybie from the coraline lmfao one of the best characters invented from thin air for an adaptation......tangentially relevant b/c he’s entirely here to support the protag / not his story at all, just here to help and prompt interactions / exposition really.......but love that [weird loner kid who’s best friend is a cat and annoys the other kid and doesn’t Get it and has specific interests and entertains himself and just is doing weird shit around here tf dude lmao killing it] like, #mood. #lifestyle. less dismal to relate to than the bg person who dies......his counterpart who totally dies is somewhat fleshed out / given Investment so it doesnt Really count as [background Nobody who’s really just fodder for “defining the stakes / threat level”] Character Concept

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

latkes maybe......Yummy

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 173: Campus Tour

Previously on BnHA: Class A hashed out everyone’s roles for the upcoming band performance/dance party. Momo wound up on keyboard, Jirou is doing vocals in addition to bass, and Kaminari and Tokoyami will be playing guitar. A staging team was also assembled, consisting of Aoyama, Sero, Kirishima, Kouda, and Shouto. And the rest of class A (as well as Aoyama again, for some reason) will be on the dance team. The next day Deku went to meet with All Might. He explained that he could only maintain 20% OFA for a short while and that it wasn’t enough to beat Overhaul and he needed some sort of long distance attack. All Might was all “then LET’S TAKE THIS OUTSIDE, SON”, and they went out to the forest and he had Deku activate 20% OFA and do a cool wind attack and fuck up some trees! And long story short, basically Deku has to learn how to utilize 20% OFA in just his hands rather than in full cowl, so that way he can whip out the wind attack whenever he wants without putting too much strain on himself. Having settled that, we then fast-forwarded one month later to the day of the cultural fest, (ETA: nope) with Mirio bringing Eri to U.A.

Today on BnHA: Mirio and Deku take Eri on a fun tour of U.A. to help her get a little more familiar with the place before the chaos and commotion of the festival. During the course of their wanderings they first come across the members of class B who are constructing the set and props for the fantasy play they’ll be doing in the festival. They then stop by to greet Hadou (who’s running for Miss Con which is basically a beauty pageant thing) and Tamaki before heading down to the support department, where they ooh and ahh at Mei’s cool giant robot. Finally they take a breather in the cafeteria and ask Eri what she thinks. She says she’s not sure, but since everyone is trying their hardest, she wants to see how it will turn out. The kids take that as a win, and Rat Principal -- who is sitting at a table nearby -- says that he’s excited too. We have a brief flashback to a meeting he had with the Commissioner General, who wanted U.A. to cancel the event. Rat Principal begged him to reconsider, saying that he felt it was necessary for the students. In the end they got the okay, on the stipulation that if the security is breached or the alarm goes off for any reason, the event will immediately be called off and evacuated. Back in the present, Deku bids Eri farewell, and one week later Mina abruptly boots him off of the dance team.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 199 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

did these motherfuckers really just spell Kacchan as Ka-chan

(ETA: the Jaimini’s Box translations have had a lot of issues lately so I’ve mostly been sticking to Mangastream now)

also [whips out nerd glasses] according to the U.A. class schedule from the databook, the kids in fact do not have Saturdays off, typically. though maybe they have this specific Saturday off? since they said the temporary license course group also had a break

anyways, these guys are lucky that I’m in a super good mood and don’t feel like nitpicking too much BECAUSE!

IIDA MOTHERFUCKING TENYA HAS HIT THE DANCE FLOOR Y’ALL

I’m going to create a new folder on my PC right now just for pictures of Iida dancing. once it is full I will post them all, and then whenever I am sad all I’ll have to do is go back and look at that post

(ETA: oh yeah I still need to do that at some point lol. when the going gets tough, remember Dancing Iida)

also it appears that Aoyama has fully jumped ship to the dance team, because the staging team is just Shouto, Sero, Kiri, and Kouda now

meanwhile Mirio is hiding in the bushes plotting some sort of hilarious entrance!

BUT HE HAS BEEN SPOTTED

DAMMIT DEKU

also! I figured that since Eri was there, it must be the day of the festival! but I guess it isn’t! which means he’s brought Eri to hang out with all of her class A sibs early! WHICH MEANS THIS IS GOING TO BE MY FAVORITE CHAPTER OF ALL TIME, ISN’T IT

MIRIO WHAT ARE YOU DOING

I’m crying sob help

lmao Ojiro is all IS THAT SENPAI’S KID?? as though that’s somehow the ONLY POSSIBLE EXPLANATION. not his little sister, not his cousin, not even Aizawa’s kid despite him also being right there. nope. this must be Toogata Mirio’s illegitimate child

(ETA: Mangastream version just says “is that his kid” which makes me think he is in fact referring to Aizawa, which makes a lot more sense but is less hilarious though.)

Ochako and Tsuyu are immediately complimenting Eri’s fucking adorable outfit, which is 100% the correct reaction. FOR FUCK’S SAKE. HER FIRST TIME WEARING SHOES AND THEY GOT HER THE CUTEST FUCKING BOOTS IN THE WORLD. and the little kid purse that matches her outfit. I can’t

Mirio is now hauling himself out from the bushes dejectedly while Aizawa explains that they got permission from the principal to let her visit

apparently the principal quite rightly said that Eri should visit on a quieter day first so she could get used to being around people since she’s been cut off from society until now and they don’t want her to get overwhelmed

and she is indeed shyly running back to Mirio and taking his hand

so now Iida’s coming up to introduce himself

...and Mineta is officially being the MOST cancelled he’s ever been, holy fucking shit. usually I just ignore his crap, but jesus. “I’m looking forward to meeting you again in ten years!” he says. to a six-year-old. how the fuck is that funny. can’t Aizawa just fucking expel his ass already. can we just delete him already please. god

(ETA: it’s even worse coming right off of 172 where he was much more tolerable than usual. one step forward, ten million steps back. took so many fucking steps backward he went and tumbled off a fucking cliff good grief)

ugh. anyway, so Mirio’s asking Deku if he wants to come with them

they’re going to walk around U.A. with Eri and give her the tour I guess

EYYYYY

I was just thinking to myself, it didn’t seem right that all of the other interns got to say hi and not him!

omg

HE’S KIRISHIMA! YOUR NEW BEST FRIEND!

now they should go take her to watch the band practice because I want her to meet Bakugou. I just do. it could go very good or very bad but either way, I’m all in

(ETA: am I the only one who wants this?? I agree with the anon who said a while back that we have been robbed of Shouto+Eri interactions, but also! Bakugou Katsuki, who recently leveled up and got his babysitting certification! Bakugou, who would be so awkward around her, but supposing there was ever a crisis situation though? he would be super gruff and he’d tell her not to worry and that he won’t let anything happen to her and that if any villains try to start some shit he’ll kick their ass. Bakugou who wouldn’t be at all intimidated by her quirk and would think it’s badass. Bakugou who also knows what it’s like to be held prisoner by villains, even if it was only for a short while and under very different circumstances. idk you guys I just think there’s a lot of potential there and I’d love to see it. my list of people who I want to see interacting with Eri is getting fairly long by this point. and for that matter, Aizawa himself is on that fucking list too because even though he’s been acting as her guardian, it’s usually Mirio and Deku who interact with her directly.)

why are these weirdos putting their uniforms back on

is there some rule that you have to be in uniform whenever you’re at school or what

(ETA: actually this is probably the case since everyone else also has either their regular or gym uniforms on)

anyway, they’re running across some third years from the business department, and they seem to know Mirio and they’re saying hi

why is everyone on this damn campus jumping to this conclusion lmao

(ETA: and this time the MS translation is making the same joke. I think)

they’re handing out program fliers to him and Deku and telling them to come visit during the festival

oh dang

holy shit. they’re really going all out. even for something like a culture festival, U.A. don’t play

EYYYYYYYYY

I love that Monoma appears to be standing up on tiptoes to peek at them excitedly. “FUCK YEAH TIME TO INDULGE IN MY FAVORITE PASTIME”

Deku’s asking Eri if she’s okay as though he’s not the one who nearly had a heart attack just now

she says she thought it was the “falling lady”, referring to Ryuukyuu. oh my god. so fucking cute I’m gonna die

(ETA: the notion that Eri’s lasting impression of Ryuukyuu is as the giant dragon that came busting through the roof just tickles me so fucking much you guys)

Monoma is declaring war as usual

WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT, FRIEND

oh my god

“completely original”

this is the best joke ever if this translation is accurate. please be accurate. class B you are giving me life right now

(ETA: you bet it’s accurate. and since this is the future, THIS SHIT IS ALL IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN NOW, Y’ALL. so put those lawyers away and prepare yourselves for the fantasy epic of a lifetime)

Awase is knocking him out and apologizing because Kendou wasn’t there so “he went unchecked”

OH MY GOD

HE’S RUNNING FOR MISS CON. THIS WHOLE ARC TRULY IS HORIKOSHI’S TENDER, LOVING APOLOGY FOR THAT HALLWAY OF BULLSHIT

(ETA: yet another mistranslation from Jaimini but CAN YOU IMAGINE THOUGH. but yeah, obviously what he’s actually saying is that Kendou is running)

Deku’s still shocked and says Aizawa didn’t say a single word to them about Miss Con. probably because he wasn’t able to mention it to you all at a time when Mineta was conveniently out of the room

(ETA: and also because it’s the least rational thing in the world and he will be DAMNED if his kids get caught up in that nonsense when they have more important things to be doing)

Mirio is apologizing to Eri for “suddenly showing you U.A.’s bad side” lmao

look at his face though

“I’m sorry Eri. Monoma was acting like a cotton-headed ninny muggins”

EYYYYYYYYYYY

she’s got it in the bag this year for sure

she’s floating over to say hi!

IS THAT TAMAKI WITH THE CAMERA??

Deku is so flustered he can’t even make eye contact. U.A.’s very own awkward bi icon

Hadou’s saying that she’s never won and that there’s a girl in the class G support team who beats her every year

in a world of quirks, it occurs to me that even lashes like this might legitimately be “maybe she’s born with it” and not automatically “maybe it’s maybelline”

EYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GOOD OL’ TAMAKI

Hadou is smiling and saying that this year she’ll definitely win

I’m amazed and pleased that she hasn’t started asking Eri inappropriate questions. even she can respect boundaries when it’s important! UNLIKE SOME CANCELLED PURPLE FUCKS

ohhh snap now they’re stopping by the development studio

okay now this looks more like what I was expecting the last time we saw this place

CAN ONE OF YOU GENIUSES PLEASE BUILD SOMETHING TO RESCUE TONY STARK. HE IS STRANDED IN SPACE

Mirio says they’re preparing for the technology exhibition that they hold every year. apparently it gets a lot of media attention

oh here we go

eyyyyyyyyy

so she’s showing off her latest giant robot, and they’re acting appropriately impressed. everyone loves giant robots

she says that for the hero department, the sports festival is where they garner attention. but now their department gets to be the main attraction

although, given the type of attention the sports festival garnered, you might want to reconsider being so pleased about that

also, didn’t Aizawa say that this year’s festival would be more lowkey due to all the shit that’s gone down recently? I mean, that’s the plan, anyway. apparently we’re going to be invaded by a gentlevillain so we’ll see how that actually goes

oh shit, Mei’s robot just blew the fuck up

“AGAIN”

HEY EVERYONE! IT’S A SINGLE PANEL OF THE TENTH MOST POPULAR CHARACTER, SHINSOU

HEY’S STILL HERE. JUST FYI. STILL EXISTS. STILL POPULAR

(ETA: you guys I’m so excited I finally got to the part of the manga where Shinsou Does Stuff Again. you don’t even know)

so now they’re at the cafeteria and Eri’s sitting down with some juice

they’re asking what she thought and whether she thinks she’ll be comfortable at the festival

;_____;

she is so good so pure I love her please protect her always!!!

lmaooooo

ERI YOUR BROTHERS ARE HUGE FUCKING DORKS

OH MY GOD

WERE YOU TWO HERE THIS WHOLE TIME

Rat Principal says he’s also excited for the culture festival and that the students always do their best to create a good time for everyone

oh?

I’m so curious to hear more about U.A.’s behind the scenes struggles. dammit. Rat Principal always gotta keep a tight lid on gossip

now he’s walking off and telling them to enjoy the festival to their heart’s content

YESSSSS A FLASHBACK TO U.A.’S BEHIND THE SCENES STRUGGLES!!

LAY IT ON ME

well now we finally know who this guy is. this is the second time we’ve seen him; the first was right after All Might’s retirement

he’s not wrong. U.A. has been a magnet for trouble lately, and they have several students who are known targets of the League. not to mention a weakened All Might. basically another attack is probably inevitable at some point, and they don’t want to test fate, because if there is an attack and anything goes wrong, that’s probably it for the school and that’s the last thing they need. they desperately need this place to stay open

Rat Principal acknowledges that he’s right, but he says that he considers this event to be necessary for the kids

and that’s true also! they really need the morale boost right about now. they’ve had one hell of a year

Rat Principal, you’re really not so bad for a totally evil guy

so they apparently worked out an agreement, and have fortified security yet again, and if by any chance an alarm sounds -- even if it’s false -- they will immediately suspend activities and evacuate

back in the cafeteria, Midnight says that talk of class A’s program has even made it to the staff room, and she’s telling them to work hard

well of course class A was discussed in the staff room. I imagine they’re the number one subject of gossip most of the time no matter what

Eri’s asking what Deku’s class is doing, and he’s explaining that it’s going to be a dance party

this chapter cleared my skin and watered my crops you guys and it’s just the best

and now we’re cutting to one week later

LMAO

WE’RE SORRY MAN. YOU JUST DON’T GOT THE RHYTHM

ah well. at least he has an adorable little munchkin of a sibling whom he can now spend the day wandering the school with again, maybe. and beating back gentlevillains with his new finger cowl wind move

there is a bonus page but I’m short on time today to include it, so I’ll just throw it in there tomorrow instead! plus ultra!