#I just need to deal with this over allotment and I’ll be able to be back here pls be patient

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Y’ALL I KNOW I KNOW

Believe me I’m dying to get back here and lose my shit with all of you. I’ll be able to very soon. 💜

[tlou-reid]

okay i know i literally posted the first blurb of popstar!reader x spencer but i can’t stop thinking about them so this is how i picture them meeting

popstar!reader x spencer reid au

spencer checked his watch with a sigh, doing his best to increase the pace of his steps, hoping to make it to his guest lecture on time. the head of the anthropology department had set this up months ago, spencer couldn’t ruin it now.

despite it not being one of spencer’s many masteries, he was here to educate the department’s students on forensic anthropology; the study of human skeletal remains. it was a skill he used a lot in the field, and was more than excited to be able to talk to all of the students who signed up to visit the lecture. he wasn’t sure how many it was, but he looking forward to it nonetheless.

all had been going perfectly, until his train had been delayed due to the track being icy. he understood the dangers, but was really tee-ed off at the situation.

so, here he was, trying not to embarrass himself on campus. it felt like his college experience all over again, except he was just over college age, rather than multiple years below. the ground was slippery, so he looked like a white mom with the way he was speed-walking.

“excuse me,” a chipper voice called out. there was no one around, meaning she was definitely talking to him. spencer debated ignoring her, but didn’t want to be rude, especially if she was one of the students. “hello,” he answered, trying his best to hide his annoyance. covering up his emotions was never one of spencer’s strong suits.

“do you know where the stadium is? i’ve been looking around forever, but i can’t seem to find it. the map has faded out, it definitely needs to be repainted.” she asked. “follow that path,” spencer gestured to one that split between two buildings, “to the right and it’ll be straight down.” he’d barely finished his sentence before he was trekking along, desperately trying to make it on time. “thank you, professor!” she proclaimed.

professor?

that crisis was one spencer would have to deal with later. he knew his ties and dressed pants made him blend in with an older crowd, be he’d at least thought he’d be labeled as a master’s student at most.

oh well, he has somewhere to be.

“i’m so sorry for the delay,” spencer said as he arrived to the large lecture hall. he sat his bag down, before going to shake the professor’s hand. “it’s no issue, dr. reid. it’s not like we had much of a turn out, anyways.” for the first time, spencer directs himself to the seats. six of them are full.

“i’m sorry if this is a disappointment,” the professor said as spencer dismissed it with a head shake, “we had a lot more sign up, but once they announced who was playing at the festival, a lot of plans changed.”

“festival?” spencer’s face twisted up, not understanding what the professor was talking about. a student interjected, a blonde boy with glasses, “yeah it kicks off the start of holiday festivities. it’s usually really lame, but y/n is playing it this year and her ep was a banger.”

spencer nodded, pretending he knew what the word banger meant. “i’ll try to be quick so you guys can make it to see, too.” spencer smiled at the students who did show. he appreciated their dedication, especially since there was somewhere else they could be having a lot more fun. the students smiled back at him.

talking fast is a skill spencer had mastered, so he ended up using 50 of the 90 minutes he was allotted, and sent the students off to the festival, telling them to have fun and be safe.

“they really appreciated you letting them go. i heard danny and rebecca talking about how much they wanted to be there, but they needed the extra credit for one of their courses.” the professor smiled at spencer. he remembered having professors like him, and hoped one day he could be similar.

“you should go check it out too, i heard y/n’s really good live.” the professor said as he stepped out into the hallway. spencer nodded, and finished packing up his things.

after some internal debate, spencer decided he would. he was using his first PTO day all year, so he minus well spend it doing something that could have some semblance of fun. he followed the same path he’d directed someone down earlier, and used his guest pass to come in through the side. he was standing side-stage, watching y/n perform her last song. while pop wasn’t usually the genre he chose, he could admire how strong she was vocally, especially considering the way she danced across the stage.

he smiles as he realizes that y/n is the same girl he’d given directions too. it was nice to know someone else was running late to something important today.

“thank you!” she says, waving goodbye to the crowd of students. she’s moving closer to spencer before he can even realize it. he didn’t know that he would be standing where she exited, but he wasn’t upset about it all.

“professor!” she cheers when she sees him, wiping down some sweat that had accumulated at the top of her head. “how’d you get back here?”

spencer’s cheek went red almost immediately, feeling like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “i-i just followed the path i sent you down,” he stuttered. she giggled at him, “well, i hope you liked the show.”

“i did!” spencer squeaked, with a small voice crack, before relaxing himself a bit and adding, “i just made it in time for the last song, but it was really good.” all of the knowledge he possessed about music and music theory was wiped away when she got close enough to him that he could see the individual specs of glitter on her eyelids. he wished he could compliment something technical about her performance, but his mind was blank.

“guess i’ll just have to get your number so you can come to a full show,” you smiled at him. if spencer’s head was empty before, it was full now, with nothing but thoughts of you. “y-yeah, that’d be cool.” you giggled again, reaching for his hand. “my phone’s somewhere backstage, but here,” you held his arm steady, using the sharpie you’d been given to sign autograph with to scribble your personal number across his arm.

“use it, sometime.” you declared, skipping off when you were done. spencer nodded at no one, trying to forget about the amount of chemicals seeping into his skin from the permanent marker.

shit, he thought, i’m gonna have to get a phone i can text on.

[enlightribe-en]

ENLIGHTRIBE Radio Drama Ep. 29&30

Episode 29 (ENLIGHTRIBE RADIO　第29回　With DRAMA)

Toto: Kyo-chan, I finished washing the plates!

Kyo: Oh, thanks for the help. Hmm? Did you also wash Shishio’s plates?

Toto: Yeah. He said he woke up late and didn’t have time to wash them

Kyo: If you left it there I would have washed it

Toto: It’s fine, he said he’d give me something for dinner if I did

Kyo: I saw Shishio leaving in a rush but I didn’t know that he was able to make a deal along the way.

Toto: Hehe, you don’t know about it but this happens at least once every two months. When I don’t notice, sometimes Tecchi also helps out

Kyo: Oh really? But is Shishio really alright with that? He’s always looking for extras

Toto: It’s fine, he says it’s his punishment for waking up late

Kyo: Guess it sounds like him to do that. He could have told me before leaving

Toto: We decided to wash our own dishes because you cook the food right?

Kyo: Well yes, but it doesn’t make that much of a difference adding one plate so he could just let me know if he’s busy

Toto: No, no. If you say that we’ll start getting spoiled by you

Kyo: Okay okay, got it. So we’ll continue with washing our own dishes

Toto: Yes! That’s important! Anyway, what have you been looking at? Can I borrow your tablet thing

Kyo: Oh, this. I’m thinking of the article I have to write today, but I can’t seem to make it well.

Toto: Uwah~ That’s a lot of words. Just looking at it makes me dizzy

Kyo: I feel: you, that’s what I thought too

Toto: You thought that too?! This is the job Tecchi told you about right? Are you writing an article for a news site?

Kyo: Yep. I’m making an article that puts together the happenings in the middle class so that people can catch up on the news quickly

Toto: Catch up on the news quickly? Why?

Kyo: If it’s shorter, even busy people can read it. There are a lot of people who want to get a lot of information in a short amount of time.

Toto: I see. But it seems hard to put it together. Have you gotten used to it? Is it easier to do now?

Kyo: It hasn’t been easy, but I think I’m getting used to it. It’s interesting to know what’s happening in the middle class because we don’t know much living here

Toto: Tecchi was saying how hardworking and passionate you were about learning. To think that you’d look for more work on top of your current ones.

Kyo: Is that so? Weekday mornings are usually allotted for making the bentos for sale, but you’re the one who delivers them. And even if I’m assigned to look after Tetsuha’s shop in the afternoon, it’s not really that busy there.

Toto: That might be true…

Kyo: Being able to work in my free time is a good thing.

Toto: But but, don’t you get tired from working all the time

Kyo: Not at all. People living in the center of the middle class might be working even more.

Toto: Is that so? There’s a lot of rich people living in the center right?

Kyo: Not really, based on the articles I’ve created that’s not the case. Housing in the center is quite expensive, plus they’re experiencing a declining economy

Toto: Does that mean not being able to get a lot of money even if they work?

Kyo: Something like that. There are also cases where their current work can’t supply their needs anymore

Toto: Eh?! So they have to start working part time on top of their work?

Kyo: That seems like the case for some people. There are a lot of people who choose to make delivery services as their part time job. In the middle class they deliver food, daily necessities, and apparently anything else

Toto: Ehh?! Then that doesn’t make any difference from where we are. To think there are also jobs like that over there.

Kyo: A lot of them follow a commission system where you get paid depending on how many you deliver so it feels rewarding

Toto: Cool! I want to try it!

Kyo: If you were born in the middle class I’m sure you would have chosen to be a delivery man

Toto: Yep! I’ll be delivering at full speed until I run out of energy. How about you? What kind of work do you want to be in if you were born in the middle class

Kyo: Me? Hmmmm… I like cooking so maybe something related to food?

Toto: Then will you become a chef? The kind who cooks for rich people?

Kyo: No, probably in a small restaurant where different people can taste my cooking

Toto: Will there be delivery there?

Kyo: Probably if there’s a demand for it

Toto: Then I’ll deliver it! I’ll carefully deliver the food you put your heart into!

Kyo: That’s not really much different from what we are doing right now, is it

Toto: Oh! It seems like it

Kyo: That probably means we’re fit to live anywhere

Toto: I guess so

Kyo: Oh right, the bentos to be delivered for today are over there

Toto: Oh that’s a lot! But it’s probably alright since it fits in the box

Kyo: Don’t push yourself too hard. There’s more than usual today so be careful

Toto: Okay! What’s that?

Kyo: Oh, that’s Shishio’s bento. Seems like he forgot it

Toto: I see, since he left in a rush. Don’t worry, I’ll bring this to Shishio too

Kyo: That would be nice. I’m sure he’ll get hungry doing manual labor.

Toto: Where was Shishio working today again?

Kyo: If I’m not mistaken, he said something like the East Tower?

Toto: I think I know already! They’re repairing something over there. I’ll probably get there asking directions

Kyo: I see, then I’ll leave it to you. Want to take some onigiri with you?

Toto: Nope, I’m fine! I’ll come back if I get hungry

Kyo: Got it. Assuming that Shishio’s eating at work, guess the three of us are having lunch together.

Toto: Yep! Then I’ll go now

Kyo: Be careful.

Toto: I will~ See you later

Kyo: See you later

Episode 30 (ENLIGHTRIBE RADIO　第30回　With DRAMA)

Toto: I’m back~!

Kyo: Oh, welcome back Toto. Good job on the morning deliveries. There were quite a lot but you’re back earlier than usual

Toto: Right?! It might be a new record for me!

Kyo: You were aiming for a new record?

Toto: Well yeah! You know, I changed my usual delivery route to deliver Shishio’s bento and then something lucky happened!

Kyo: Oh? Which route did you take?

Toto: I passed through the town square as a shortcut. Did you know that there have been exercise sessions in the town square that started about 3 months ago?

Kyo: Is that the one Shishio was talking about before? He said more people started joining 

Toto: Yes that one! There were apparently only about two to three people when they started, but now they have over 20 participants!

Kyo: Well, that’s amazing! Everyone’s starting to think about their health. What about it?

Toto: When I passed by they were exercising, and some of the old people who were supposed to be the recipients were there! So when they finished, ¼ of the deliveries were done too

Kyo: So that’s why. That is very efficient. It could also bring us new customers if they continue exercising at the same time

Toto: There were already people who were interested so I took note of it! Here’s the list! 

Kyo: Nice one Toto! To think that you would also advertise there

Toto: Because the food you make is delicious! So I want more people to try it. Plus, I want them to stay healthy

Kyo: Right, we have to repay them back for their support

Toto: They used to look after us when we were kids after all. Right, are you done with the article you were working on this morning?

Kyo: It’s done. Here.

Toto: Oh!!! It became so much shorter! Was it harder this time?

Kyo: A bit. The article was quite long too, so I had to start from understanding it. But it was quite a good study

Toto: Do you also write articles about ENLIGHTRIBE?

Kyo: Sometimes. Like articles about bands that are being interested upon

Toto: Eh?! Then is there an article about us?

Kyo: I don’t think there is… It would actually bad for us if there was

Toto: Why?! Isn’t it a good thing to have ourselves known?

Kyo: It would be a good thing to be famous, but it would be bad if people found out we are from the lower class

Toto: Oh I see. Is it really something that would get revealed?

Kyo: The more mysterious something is, the more people would want to know. Plus, there’s no information about where we’re from

Toto: I see. Even if we want to make ourselves known, we can’t

Kyo: Gossips are a hot topics in articles

Toto: Gossip?

Kyo: There are some journalists who dig up information about people and use it to write badly about them. It would be bad if those people got onto us

Toto: I see. Among the bands who joined ENLIGHTRIBE, is there anyone who has been gossiped about?

Kyo: I think ESMERALDA. Well, regardless of ENLIGHTRIBE, I think those people often get written about in articles

Toto: Oh those rich people?

Kyo: Apparently people in the middle class don’t think well of those in the upper class, so they tend to pick up even the slightest gossips

Toto: For example?

Kyo: Their company, family are a given, but sometimes they include what they wear, or even what they have for meals, even the slightest details

Toto: There are people who read those kinds of things? Does that mean they have a lot of fans?

Kyo: They’re not all fans, there are also some who write hate about them. These kinds of articles are meant to get them more money the more people pay attention to them. They say that gossip gets you the most money

Toto: Then does that mean rich people don’t have freedom? Since a lot of journalists go after them

Kyo: I wonder. They might not have privacy, but they definitely live a better life than us because they can buy everything with money

Toto: If we were super famous, would things like Shishio oversleeping get turned into an article?

Kyo: With a picture on top of that!

Toto: Wow! That’s so embarrassing

Kyo: But if we’re rich we would probably have an assistant who would wake us up

Toto: I see, then there would be no reason to be late. But what about if he forgot his bento

Kyo: There would probably be no need for a bento. He could just eat out

Toto: Their lifestyle is so different for ours I can’t even imagine when an embarrassing picture would be taken

Kyo: That’s true

Toto: Oh right! I got this a while ago. Almost forgot to show you

Kyo: Wow, that’s a lot of vegetables

Toto: They said the sizes are different because of the recent typhoon

Kyo: I don’t mind. I’m actually thankful we get to receive so much

Toto: The tomatoes might have gotten squished… Sorry, I should have handled it better

Kyo: Don’t mind it. Tomatoes are really soft, but we can still eat them so no problem. I’ll make your favorite tomato soup with it.

Toto: Yay!!

Kyo: Who did you get these from?

Toto: While I was going to Shishio’s workplace, there was an old man with a farm and said to take it because they have extras

Kyo: Then we have to give him something in return

Toto: I’ll go help out in their farm once I’m done with the deliveries

Kyo: That sounds like the best option. I’m sure they’d feel energized looking at your smile too

Toto: I’ll share my energy with everyone!

Kyo: Don’t try too hard, okay? Let’s have lunch. Call Tetsuha from his room

Toto: Got it! I’ll call him. Tecchi~! Tecchi,Tecchi,Tecchi, Tecchi, Tecchi~! Tecchi~~!

[supeson]

the living is wise

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine , part ten, part eleven, part twelve, part thirteen, part fourteen , part fifteen, part sixteen, part seventeen

Living alone allots you certain privileges. Coming and going whenever you please, buying whatever food strikes your fancy at the moment. One of those privileges, you thought, was being able to sleep in on your one Saturday off in a month. The trilling of your cell phone tells you another story. You let it ring three times before you grip it tightly, squinting before bringing it up to your face. It’s Bruce. You let out a huff, but swipe to accept the call. 

“You have about a minute to buzz us in before three highly trained professionals break into your apartment,” He tells you. You can imagine him on the sidewalk looking up at your apartment, calculating all of the ways he could get in without using your front door.

“Just three?” You yawn into the phone. 

“Bruce Wayne would never be caught breaking into some shabby apartment building in the middle of Gotham. My kids on the other hand, I have no control over.”

You groan, but roll off of the bed and onto your feet. Bruce lets out a small laugh, and nods to Dick to open the door as he hears you shuffle around, then hit the buzzer next to your front door. “The elevator’s broken again, by the way. The super has been ‘trying’ to fix it for a week now.”

Tim lets out a moan of despair at seeing the out of order sign, but dutifully pivots to the stairs. Bruce hangs up with a smile, starting the trek up to your third floor apartment. 

                                                        *

Your apartment looks unchanged from the many other times he’s been there, aside from the box in the corner filled with cartridge cases and DVDs. Your cats are nowhere to be seen, and there's an open cereal box on the kitchen counter.

"I thought you said you have been packing," Bruce says, pulling off his gloves as he walks around. His kids are doing the same, exploring every nook and cranny (that they hadn't already seen on a computer monitor).

"I have. You can see the box in the corner, can't you? That's all packed up, babe." Bruce narrows his eyes. He doesn't appreciate the sarcastic tone of that babe. You roll your eyes. "Alright, I wasn't expecting you guys to be here at the ass crack of dawn to help me move. I thought you'd be here at like, two o'clock or something. I was gonna get up and start frantically shoving shit into boxes at noon."

“The early bird catches the worm,” Dick chimes from the kitchen, already pulling your dinner plates from a cabinet. You scrunch your nose at him. The other two Wayne kids take that as an invitation to start going through things as well, opening drawers and taking things off of shelves. They find the boxes you bought in the closet and set to work packing. 

“There are uh. Boxes in the closet for the figures you’ll come across. Please put them in the corresponding box. I’m gonna go to my room.” You go down the short hallway off of your kitchen and shut yourself in the room at the end of it. You kneel and look under your bed just to make sure, but sure enough, there are Tigger and Little Bit, huddled under your bed, eyes wide. “Yea, I know.”

You spend twenty minutes working up the energy to change into regular clothes, and by the time you’re pulling on some jeans, someone knocks. “Yea, you can have some of my snacks, but don’t touch the Cheez-Its, I’ve been saving those.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a Cheez-It,” Bruce speculates from the other side. 

“Oh fuck,” You mutter. You open the door for him, letting him sit on your bed as you continue to get dressed. He looks at you appraisingly while your shirt is off, and you roll your eyes. “Your kids are right outside and I know for a fact these walls are thin. I’ve gotten noise complaints.”

Bruce just smiles knowingly, then wrinkles his nose as he watches you pick up the dirty clothes off of the floor and dump them into a large box, then do the same with the clean clothes hanging up in your closet. “Shouldn’t those be separated and folded?”

“Have you ever done your own laundry, rich boy? No? Trust me, in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter. I was just gonna wash ‘em when I got to your house anyway. Who cares about wrinkles?” Bruce opens his mouth to respond, but you’re faster. “Yea yea Alfred does, I know. I’ll deal with him later.”

Bruce says nothing, just watching you quickly, albeit messily, pack the rest of your closet. He gets up to help you pack up your various knickknacks around the room, but stops when he sees you hesitate. He can tell what you’re thinking already. “I do want you at the Manor. We’ve already cleared out space for all of your things, believe it or not. Don’t throw away who you are to fit into my life. Please.”

“I just feel so...juvenile, compared to you. You have great artworks and books signed by the authors and expensive vases just hanging around. I have anime figures that are depreciating in value by the day and this old Yu-Gi-Oh! comforter my mom wouldn’t throw away, and now I won’t throw away. It just seems so...out of place for me there. Your house has been featured in maybe a dozen magazines! My apartment has only been featured in my 2AM snapchats to my friends.” You wrap your hand around a small plushie, seemingly testing its weight in your palm. You’re mentally testing its weight in memories. Is it dear enough to you to go with you into this next phase of your life?

He comes up behind you and places a hand on your arm. “My house is a façade. It’s perfectly tailored and manicured to look the way it does, to keep up my billionaire persona. None of those paintings or books or antiques hold any value to me. Most of them were bought at charity auctions or brought into the house by Alfred. These,” He gestures to the things hanging up on your walls and sitting on your shelves, “things mean something to you. They hold special meaning, or memories for you. Your stuff makes you happy, and that’s all it needs to do. It’ll fit into my home just fine, because it’s your home too now. Feel free to fill it with as much stuff as possible. God knows it might actually need some redecorating anyway.”

You’re about to open your mouth to respond when you hear scuffling coming from outside your door. You set your plushie down with a slight downward quirk to your lips and turn towards the door. Dick bursts in just as you hear “Bruce!” and ‘Father!” come from the living room. 

“Okay nothing is permanently broken, first of all, but do you think your landlord will still give you back your security deposit if the ceiling fan became a floor fan?”

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair 

Chapter 25: Human Wonder 125

Summary: Faerie meets TV

Read on AO3

Read chp 25 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list

Human Wonder 125

***

Jamie had thought long and hard about how to approach introducing Claire to television. As much as he thought he’d come to know her, he wasn’t entirely sure how she’d react, seeing as how he would probably be terrified of it in her position. He eventually settled on a nature show— something familiar to her to introduce the idea of moving pictures. 

He had tried his best to explain the concept to her beforehand, but her sweet, honey eyes had simply glazed over. He finally gave up and told her he’d simply have to show her.  

As he settled down on the couch with the remote, Claire beelined (typical) toward his lap. She slid on smoothly, her hand hooking around his neck as she all but fell on top of him. Laughing, he caught her around the waist and back, dipping her a bit as she settled in. 

“Hi,” he said fondly, looking down at her. 

“Hi,” she echoed back in a voice so sweet he would probably need some dental work. 

“Are ye ready, lass?” he asked, pulling her upright on his lap so he could focus on getting the show started. 

“Yes,” she said exuberantly. 

She snuggled down against him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder, and she grabbed his free arm to wrap it around her middle, not even giving him the chance to do it himself. He obliged, quite willingly, and gave her an affectionate squeeze. 

As he pressed the power button and she watched the TV light up, she snapped her eyes shut and shoved her face forcefully into Jamie’s neck. 

“It’s bright!” she cried. 

Jamie couldn’t help his laugh. He probably would be laughing at her quite a bit during this experience, so he hoped she wouldn’t mind. 

“Aye, it is. Yer eyes will adjust.”

She withdrew hesitantly, a great deal less excited than she had been a moment ago. Jamie clicked on Netflix as Claire looked back toward the screen. 

Jamie found himself bemoaning the position she’d chosen on his lap. He couldn’t see her face, so he wouldn’t be able to see her reactions when he actually started a show. Abandoning the remote for a second, he grabbed Claire around the waist with both hands and lifted her out of his lap to deposit her to his side. 

“Hey!” she said indignantly, leveling him with a pout that had his insides twisting in mirth and affection. 

“I want tae watch ye, lass. And as bonny as the back of yer heid is—” he cupped a fond hand over the back of said head, “I think yer face will be more entertaining.” For good measure, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

“Oh,” was all she said. 

She looked at him for a long second, but then, once she decided not to be offended, she cuddled up close to his side. Jamie’s breath caught as he felt her tuck herself underneath his arm. (No matter how many times Claire touched him, he didn’t think he could ever get over it. If she stayed with him until they were old and grey— as he wished to God she would— Jamie thought his stomach would still be sent into knots any time she was even near him). He quickly got with the program and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. 

Feeling like a stereotypical couple— only the girlfriend was a faerie who had never once laid eyes on a tv— Jamie held the remote out in front of them and started the show. 

It was a David Attenborough nature film, a special on Scotland that Jamie had found. It started with an aerial shot of a loch— probably Ness, he figured. A beautiful shot that highlighted the expanse of the scenery. 

The second it came on screen, Claire stiffened. Her back went ramrod straight, and Jamie’s gaze whipped back to her to find her eyes were as big as watermelons. Her mouth had fallen open, and he could hear her breaths coming in rapid pants as the movie continued, changing to various scenic views. 

Claire’s body let out an involuntary shiver, a huge spasm that went down the length of her body, and Jamie suddenly grew concerned. But just as he was about to ask if he should stop it, Claire suddenly was disappearing from under his arm. 

Jamie closed his mouth and simply watched as she rose from the couch and began to float toward the tv. Because floating truly was the best way to describe it. She was padding on incredibly light feet, hunched slightly with her head pushed forward and cocked to the side like a curious cat. She drew closer and closer to the tv, her hand outstretched. He could hear her excited breaths all the way from the couch, and it took all his willpower to stay silent in the face of her adorable behavior. 

Her hand made contact with the screen, and then she suddenly jumped back as the scene changed and bright light emanated from the tv. 

“It’s flowers,” she breathed, commenting on the picture currently being shown. 

“Aye,” Jamie answered. 

Her hand pressed flat against the screen this time (but Jamie couldn’t have cared less). 

“But they’re not actually in there?’ she questioned, darting a quick glance behind the tv as if to double check, “so how do they show them?” 

“It’s verra difficult to explain, lass,” he chuckled, “maybe jes’ sit back down and watch a little more.”

Claire wasn’t even listening to him at this point. She stepped back a couple feet from the tv but remained smack dab in front of it. He saw her head moving back and forth quickly, trying to take it all in. All of a sudden, she plopped down, folding her legs and staring up at the screen. The image was so much like a child enraptured with Sunday morning cartoons that Jamie had to stifle a smile. 

She stayed like that for a long time, silently growing more and more absorbed in the program. Her back was straight at attention, her hands stuck down in her lap, and her eyes were glued to the screen. 

Jamie found himself getting a bit jealous. It was absurd, but Claire’s newfound obsession with the TV meant that he was left sitting on the couch by himself. He hadn’t had a moment with this much personal space while Claire was in the room for a long time, and he found himself mourning the loss of her. Who knew, maybe she would abandon him completely now that she’d found a love for the screen?

His jealousies were assuaged when Claire tore her eyes away to look back and give him a bright smile. 

“This is magic, Jamie,” she breathed. 

“Aye, it seems like it,” he couldn’t help but agree. 

She spared another glance back at him, and this time her face showed an adorably conflicted expression. He could read that one like a book. She was trying to decide whether to come back to him or stay “with the tv.”

This was a monumental moment. Jamie felt like he should eye the tv with narrowed eyes; he never would have guessed when he bought it that he’d be in competition for his girlfriend’s love with the thing. Putting on the charm, he gave Claire a smile. He had something the tv didn’t— well a few somethings…. but one in particular. And he was going to win. 

“Come sit wi’ me, lass,” he said in a silky smooth voice, “I’ll keep ye warm, aye?” 

Take that, television. 

That was all it took to convince her. She scrambled up, nearly tripping in her haste, and smiled innocently as she all but threw herself onto Jamie. All the air was knocked out of him in an oomph, but he was too high on his feeling of victory to mind too much. He let her pin him down to the couch as her knees came down on either side of his legs. Then, her lips were all over his face. She sprinkled kisses all over him, pressing her lips in a barrage of brushes over the skin of his cheeks and forehead and chin. 

“Woah,” he chuckled, his hands going around her instinctively, smoothing over her waist and up her back. 

He was helpless under her, and completely taken aback by her sudden accosting of him. 

“You were jealous, weren’t you?” Claire said when she had finished covering his face in kisses. 

“Nae,” he lied. 

As soon as the word had left his mouth, she was laughing. “Don’t lie to me, James Fraser. I can feel your jealousy right now.” 

“Damn empathic powers,” he mumbled before he caught her lips in a possessive kiss. 

“Don’t worry,” she breathed against his lips, “nothing will ever compare to you. Not even your magic… what is it called again?”

“Television,” he filled in, already regretting teaching her this. 

“Mmm, television.”

As if that was all the reassurance he was allotted, Claire abruptly slid off his lap and settled in at his side to stare at the tv again. Living up to his promise, Jamie brought an arm around her shoulder and pressed the warmth of his body to her ever-chilled one. 

After another couple of minutes of Claire watching the screen and Jamie watching Claire, her entire face suddenly lit up. Her hand flew to grab Jamie’s arm— her wee fingers gripping with incredible force for someone so small— and she let out a gasp. 

“What is it, lass?”

“That was my loch!” she said, pointing enthusiastically, borderline frantically at the screen, which had already changed to a different view, “it was my loch, Jamie! I know it was!” 

At the mention of her home, Jamie’s heart sunk all the way to the pit of his stomach. He had to swallow down the sudden onslaught of emotion— some odd mix of guilt, unease, and the crazy wish that her past would never be brought up for fear of her thinking she made a mistake staying with him. 

Thankfully, Claire was too enraptured to take stock of his feelings— his feelings that at the particular moment were filled with pettiness.  

“I promise it was! I would know it anywhere! Even inside this ‘television!’” she continued. 

“I’m sure it was,” Jamie agreed through the lump in his throat, “is it no’ amazin’ that ye can see real things while yer sittin’ here on my couch?”

She turned to him with a smile so wide that her mouth parted open. “It’s wonderful!” 

He couldn’t help it. He leaned in and took her lips in a gentle kiss, feeling the need to anchor himself to her. She was here. She’d chosen him. She wasn’t going back just from seeing a simple reminder of home. 

She kissed him back, unable to stop from smiling even as she pressed her lips to his. 

When he pulled back, she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. Her attention shifted once more to the program. 

As Claire watched the screen, Jamie began to absently trace along her skin. First just making circles on her hand with his thumb, then letting go to trace the backs of his fingers up and down her forearm. Her skin was so exquisitely soft— Jamie thought no sensation could ever compare to touching it. His exploration wandered up further until he was stroking her cheek. 

It took him aback for a second when he realized the role reversal. Here he was, touching her so completely unabashedly, lost in the wonder of the feel of her. Claire must have been rubbing off on him.  

A few minutes later, she turned back to Jamie, this time with a slight frown on her face. 

“It makes my head hurt,” she said. The crease between her eyes was back, and Jamie was swept up at the sight of it. 

“Poor thing,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to each eyelid, which fluttered closed as he drew near, “Too much bright light for ye, I think. Let’s take a break for now, aye?” 

Claire gave a nod (the absence of a pout clearly indicating the growing severity of her headache), and he reached for the remote to power it down. 

“Well,” he said, once they were left without entertainment once more, “what did ye think about yer first television show?” 

“It was wonderful,” Claire sighed, “but I don’t understand it one bit.” 

“Neither do I, lass,” Jamie agreed, “neither do I.” 

***

Sometime later, Claire and Jamie were in the kitchen where Jamie was preparing his dinner while Claire sat at the table, looking on. 

When Jamie glanced over at her— as he couldn’t help but do— he found her sitting with her arms rested on the kitchen table and her hands pressed to her face. 

“Are ye alright, a leannan?” Jamie asked. 

“I don’t feel so well,” Claire admitted from beneath the cover of her hands. 

His insides clenching in worry, Jamie set down the knife where he’d been chopping vegetables and washed his hands before approaching her. 

He stood next to her and cupped a hand over the back of her head. 

She looked up at him then, her head falling back to rest against his hand, and her expression made his concern amp up a couple of notches. Her eyes didn’t hold their usual sparkle, and the lids seemed hooded with fatigue. Her face seemed pale too, even those bonny pink lips holding less color than usual. 

Jamie hummed sympathetically, his eyebrows drawing together. 

“Ye look tired, a leannan,” he commented quietly. 

“I am,” she confirmed. Her hand came up to wrap gently around Jamie’s forearm— not to move it, but simply to connect them through touch. 

Jamie quickly sat down in the chair next to her so he could look her in the eyes. He studied her for another long moment, unsure how to proceed. At this particular moment, there was nothing he could do but hope for the best, since any kind of medication was out of the question. She couldn’t simply pop a tylenol. 

“Let’s get ye to bed, aye? Maybe ye’ll feel better wi’ a wee bit of rest?” he suggested gently. 

“I think so,” she nodded, voice slightly breathless. 

Catching him still looking at her, she gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Jamie. I think the TV just gave me a bit of a headache. Like you said, it’ll probably be better in the morning.” 

Jamie felt the slightest bit better at that, the tension in his shoulders easing. If she wasn’t worried, neither was he. Well... that wasn’t entirely true. He always worried when it came to her and always would, but at least he had a hope to rest on. 

Surely it would pass soon. 

He went upstairs with Claire to lay down with her, slotting her wee body against his and holding her close. His attention remained fixed on her long after her breathing slowed into the rhythm of sleep. 

Looking down at her, she seemed peaceful. A hint of a smile spread over her lips, but the rest of her face was smooth and without tension. 

Even seeing her looking so peaceful, he began to feel uneasy about the situation. The more he thought on it, the more he realized she didn’t seem like her usual self. When it came to Claire, he paid attention to every little thing. He noticed the furrow in her brow, the tension in her face, even the downturn to her lips when she thought he wasn’t looking. He’d been making a lot of excuses, coming up with reasons for why she seemed to be feeling unwell. But those reasons were beginning to feel hollow, and he worried there was something bigger going on. 

Or perhaps he was just overthinking. His protective instinct did seem to go into overdrive around Claire. Perhaps she truly did just have a headache, and he was overreacting. Maybe his brain was simply trying to sabotage the happiness he was finding with her.  

Faced with these two possibilities, Jamie recalled what his mother always used to tell him when he complained of being sick. 

“Go to sleep, Jamie. It’ll be better in the morning.” 

Helpless to do anything else, he prayed that his mother’s words would ring true. 

This was all Claire needed— he told himself firmly— a good night sleep. 

***

Tbc

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 6 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“When’s your birthday, Sasuke?” Naruto asked unprompted. He was eating an onigiri in one hand and writing in a notebook with another. “Captain Haru gave me a journal and told me to fill in the dates.”

“Why are you treating it like a slam book?”

“What’s a slam book? Why are you even changing the topic?”

“July 23.”

Naruto went silent for a moment as he jotted down Sasuke’s name. “Oh, last week? During our sleepover?”

“You mean, hostage sleepover.”

“Ah shit. We didn’t get you a present. Sorry, grumpy.” Naruto’s face was sincerely apologetic and Sasuke was on the verge of nonchalantly assuring him that it was all right when he heard his following reply. “But make sure you get me one okay. It will be on October 10.”

“I wish I was allowed to physically harm you right now but your training next week will suffice,” Sasuke jested right back. “I’ll put in a word with Haru to make you suffer.” He would have said more clapbacks if they didn’t hear loud footsteps running their way.

Their two heads popped just a few inches above the bushes that lined behind the fence and saw a disheveled Sakura catching her breath with bent knees and her arms full of folders. Sasuke surmised she might have come from a council meeting.

“It’s Sakura – “ Sasuke covered Naruto’s loud mouth with his palm.

Her phone rang inside her skirt’s pockets, and her expression panicked when she saw the caller id. The folders fumbled out of her grasp when she answered it. “Oh hello, Kakashi-sensei.”

Both the boys’ brows raised in curiosity when her voice went a pitch higher.

“Ah, I’m actually out of the campus right now, Sensei. Got an errand to run. I’ll see you for consultations…..soon?” Then she ended the call. They all heard another set of footsteps nearing their location, and Sakura repeatedly said I’m screwed to herself.

Naruto wrestled out of Sasuke’s headlock and pulled a surprised Sakura inside their hiding place. The latter grumbled but quickly gathered the folders from the ground and followed suit. Three heads now looked over the bushes, and true enough, Kakashi appeared in the clearing with his phone in his hand. “That’s funny. I thought I heard her voice here.”

When they were sure he was out of their sight and earshot, Sasuke signaled a thumbs up, and Naruto, not missing a beat, started with the obvious question. “Why are you hiding from our mathematics teacher?”

Sakura blushed with intensity, her cheeks the color of cherry tomatoes with a ripeness Sasuke liked the most. She flushed so intensely she couldn’t hide it for her sake. The thought of wanting to have that kind of privilege crossed his mind. “Uh, he wanted a report from me, but I wasn’t able to finish it.” Like the self-aware person that she was, she immediately got her bearings and recognized the place. “This is behind the library.”

“It’s Sasuke’s favorite hiding place until I barged in. And now, it’s yours too.” Naruto grinned at her even when he just revealed this place’s existence to their student council president.

“Shouldn’t you be asking me permission first?” Sasuke arranged the folders first before returning them to Sakura who seemed to calm down a bit.

She laughed dryly. “Technically, it’s public property so we don’t need your permission…grumpy.”

Naruto erupted in laughter while Sasuke closed his eyes in annoyance. Two loud-mouths in what was supposed to be in his safe space and yet all he felt was just mild annoyance. Stopping his thoughts before they ran him aground, he rummaged through their storage bin and found an extra sandwich he bought this morning and the last pack of his cherry tomato juice.

He passed the food to her and gave her a little bit of scolding. “At least have your lunch first before making fun of me.”

“You’re really giving her a tomato juice?” Naruto never could hide his disgust for certain food. “Don’t tell me this is your rite of passage.”

Sasuke glared at the blonde, forcing him to shut up. “Bring any more people here, and I’ll tell your captain to drag you to hell.” That wasn’t so difficult, given that Haru has taken a liking to him, for what he didn’t know. He just treated him like a big brother would, like Itachi would.

Sakura took a sip in the middle of their banter, and she emitted a surprised sound. “So this is what it tasted like? It’s actually good.”

That was the first time someone liked what he liked, and he vaguely realized he was waiting for her opinion. With that, he had trouble suppressing the smile that started to form on his face, so he looked away and mustered his focus on the nearby yells of a practicing dragonboat team.

“Oh, I forgot, belated happy birthday Sasuke.”

He strengthened his resolve not to turn his head just as quickly because he was sure the shock was visible in his face. He was so taken aback he didn’t hear Naruto ask Sakura where she learned of it.

“I came across our class records during the meeting and saw the date. Sucks we weren’t able to get you a present. Anyway, I gotta run. I have another presentation to the principal for a personal project.” Sakura finished off her sandwich in one bite and ran out of the secluded space.

Naruto stared after her disappearing figure, the bunched-up juice carton and sandwich wrapper in his hands. “I should make her a decent lunch sometime. I don’t think she’s eating well.”

But Sasuke had another observation in mind. “Why didn’t you ask for her birthday?”

“I know already. I asked Hinata about it.”

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

Sakura tried to catch up with the baseball captain in the seniors’ hallways before she would lose him to his after classes dates with Hinata. “Haru, wait up please.”

His brown hair has grown longer to hide his undercut which Naruto wanted to replicate as he often mentioned in between their conversations in classes. It was actually a wonder how the usually demure Hinata gravitated towards Haru who had a strong personality. His annoyed gaze softened when he realized it was her calling him, his smile turning into a wide grin as she raced through the halls.

“No running, Ms. President,” he chided.

Sakura playfully punched his shoulder, her fist’s impact light as she struggled to catch her breath. “Can I at least have some of your time? I promise I won’t take long.”

The captain’s face took on an incredulous look. “How the tables have turned.”

They found themselves on a rooftop, away from the incidental eavesdroppers (if there were any), and moreover they needed some quiet space to talk about important matters. The first of which was the baseball team’s finances.

“I gotta hand this to you rather straightforwardly. The board didn’t foresee your qualification in the preliminaries hence they didn’t allot a big budget for your team – not for training, not for travel expenses, not for uniforms, and miscellaneous expenses.” He towered over her, her height a third short from his shoulders, but when he hunched them forward and leaned against the railings, he was almost shoulder to shoulder with her. “So what are your plans?”

Back in junior high, he would often ruffle her hair out of her immaculate ponytail, and this closeness wasn’t really odd because they were from the same town and grew on the same block. Distance just crept in as they made more friends and entered different circles.

“My personal savings,” Haru simply replied. “Our coach will chip in half of our projected expenses so we’re good to go.”

Sakura sighed. “As always, you don’t like to rely on anyone.”

“We’re not really too far from each other, Sakura. So what’s your plan anyway?” Haru turned with his back this time against the railing.

“Pass-the-Hat.”

Haru nodded. “And your savings.”

Sakura shook her head vehemently. “Hell no.”

“Gears are turning in your head, and I can see you’ll fill in a part with your savings. Stop it, Haruno.”

“I’m telling you, I won’t give you a part of my savings. Anyway – “

“Anyway? There’s more?” Haru hastily looked at his watch to check the time, almost formed a reply, and thought better of it, hiding his wrist from his view.

“I saw your career sheet form. You know you could always try to apply for an athletic scholarship, right?” If she can hazard a guess, Haru may not be planning at all to proceed to college. He always has his father’s fishing business to take over back in their town.

“No association would vet for a player who only qualified for prelims on his senior year.” Haru playfully ruffled her hair, the gesture she thought was once forgotten between them. “So don’t feel sorry for me. I already have Hinata to deal with.”

“You sound so pessimistic when you’re just going away for a year until she decides to follow you. Your story’s almost like a fairytale,” Sakura scoffed.

“First of all, long distance relationships don’t work and second and last of all, there’s her father to think about.” Haru let out a long sigh. “Believe me, Sakura, I want to make it work, but I feel like the distance between us had already set in even before I go.”

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

Haru was right. While Pass-the-Hat garnered lots of amounts enough to shoulder the logistics of the training of the baseball team before the semis, there wasn’t enough to pay for their new equipment. She could ask the teachers, but she knew Haru and the coach have already asked for prior favors. At the last minute before the trip got cancelled, Sakura anonymously put in two-thirds of her savings into the donations pool which the captain got wind of and somehow reached Kakashi.

While she was successful in avoiding him for the first few days of the school trip while Naruto and his team was in Fukuoka, he caught her alone as she was reading the markers outside the walls of a castle.

“Haruno Sakura.” His voice startled her. She turned around, like a good student that she was, and waved a bit too enthusiastically. “Mind telling me why you won’t talk to me outside of our council meetings? Did I say any directive that offended you or overworked you? I need to have an open communication with you kids.”

Kids. “Ah, I was just a little busy these past weeks,” Sakura assured him. She nervously fidgeted with his rubber band that was still on her wrist. His eyes followed her movements, and she hid them quickly behind her back, afraid of what he would say if he realized.

“I heard from the principal that he greenlighted your personal project, and that you will be presenting this to the board next week for a possible funding. You accomplished that on top of the feats you pulled to bring the baseball team to the semis.” As Kakashi recounted her accomplishments, she couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks. She was finding it difficult to say an excuse right now. “So I’m returning your personal donation.”

Sakura stared at him directly, never mind the raven irises that drowned her in undivided attention. “What?” He smiled, highlighting even more his mole, and she gasped, breathless at the sight.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over these things. You’re too young for this. I’ll have the funds downloaded to your bank, all right.” Kakashi patted her head softly and disappeared in the meandering crowds.

She slapped the rubber band against the thin skin of her wrist repeatedly. She didn’t know whether she should feel grateful that her savings were back or feel angry that she was patronized because of her age. Didn’t Kakashi know that teenagers grow up faster than their actual age and that she had every right to worry her pretty head? When will he start seeing her as she was?

Her self-deprecating thoughts ran awry when someone took hold of her wrist that has gone red from the slap of the rubber band.

For someone who alternated between being grim-faced or stoic, Sasuke’s hand was gentle and kind. She knew that ever since she saw him in the café, all the good things in him seeping out through cracks in his wall. Right now, she knew he was worried about the supportless baseball team.

“They’re losing, aren’t they?” Sakura suppressed the overwhelming emotions from her earlier interaction with Kakashi and concocted a plan in her head.

She coordinated with the guides and had them add a stop at the baseball field at Fukuoka for one last hurrah for the team.

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

Thirty minutes later, their school witnessed how the top teams decimated Naruto’s team. No innings won, batters relentless, and Haru got injured. Sakura, sensing the dampened atmosphere among the student body, rallied yells, earning surprised looks from the team members.

Through the crowds, Sasuke saw Hinata, her fingers twirling the ends of her long braid, and her eyes scanning the place for her boyfriend…until her gaze shifted to Naruto. He traversed the space to stand beside her, breaking his own rule to remain uninvolved in other people’s affairs.

But he owed this to Naruto and Haru who never failed to include him in after practice dinners and effectively kept the gaping depression in his apartment away.

“Your boyfriend has a broken arm, but you’re looking at Naruto.” He said, even before he could announce his presence to her.

Hinata turned her face to him and repeated his words. “My boyfriend has a broken arm but I cannot look at broken limbs for too long. Thanks for pointing that out.”

“There’s a second statement after my but.”

“Hmm, my eyes just probably gravitated to him unknowingly. But it couldn’t be helped, right? He just has this bright, sunshine energy.” Hinata shrugged, seemingly confused by her words as well.

Sasuke wanted to prod more but her eyes narrowed at something behind him. When he glanced back, he saw Sakura stood in tiptoes as she hugged a downtrodden Naruto. If he wasn’t so sad, he would have blushed and awkwardly pushed his crush away, but for this instance, he choked back his sobs and eventually cried on her shoulder.

“Maybe the student council can also support other teams which are gearing up for nationals. You may suffer backlash if favoritism becomes obvious.”

He scoffed at Hinata’s advice. “I’ll tell our student council president that.”

Sasuke made his way to the blonde and pinkette, his arms engulfing both of their heads in a very rare hug. He felt Sakura stiffen beneath him while Naruto changed shoulders and cried openly against Sasuke’s shirt.

This he didn’t mind, as long as both of their faces were hidden from her view.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 7

[geeky-politics-46]

The Asgardian Candidate

Loki/The West Wing FanFiction Crossover

Chapter 3 - “The First Debate”

The 2 candidates strode toward the center of the stage for the ceremonial pre-debate handshake. Both men exuding confidence & authority, even though the air around them was thick with palpable tension

The first lady, Abbey, entering hand in hand with her husband. It was an effort to further highlight the differences between the candidates.

President Bartlet easily outplayed Loki in policy knowledge, but regardless the handsome raven haired charismatic Loki managed to maintain a thin lead over the incumbent. Tonight they were hoping to change that.

They had found a vulnerable spot in Loki, one that Jed was particularly suited to take advantage of. Jed Bartlet was a family man 1st & foremost, nothing mattered more to him. Loki, always solo on the campaign trail with no spouse or relatives to be seen, became visibly angered at the mention of family.

After the first lady had smiled & waved to the audience she turned to her husband. Abbey tipped her head up & kissed Jed, she then placed her hand on his chest over his heart & touched her forehead to his. Both of their eyes closed in that moment & the president placed his hand over Abbey’s, smiling as their hands met.

Loki watched the display with annoyance, to him they were simply putting on an act, a show for their audience. They were posturing.

To the Bartlet’s however this was their moment of ritual, a grounding force that connected them before a moment of political chaos. While it may have been Loki’s weakness, Jed derived only strength from his family & especially from his wife.

Loki placed his hands on his hips & shifted his weight to signal his impatience with being made to wait. He had just finished rolling his eyes when Abbey pulled away from her husband & exited the debate stage.

President Bartlet was the 1st to extend his hand, his warm friendly smile covering a feeling of anxiety. He may be the President of the United States, the Commander In Chief, but something about this man exuded an authority outranking even his own.

Loki locked hands with the President, his lips curling into his signature mischievous smirk, lowering his gaze slightly & boring his rich emerald eyes into his opponent. He was ready for a battle.

As they walked to their podiums, Loki’s eyes stayed on the President. Like a predator stalking his prey, he watched every step the man took. The president could feel the eyes on him, causing him to swallow hard as he took his position.

The 2 men stood roughly 20 feet apart on the large stage, podiums angled toward the front center. The audience had begun to silence & still themselves. The moderator was finishing up sorting her papers. It was nearly time to begin.

Bartlet adjusted his microphone, straightened his tie, basically anything except look at the man to his left. Loki was still staring him down, & he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the nervous fidgeting he had elicited.

Loki’s attention snapped to the front of the stage as the moderator began reciting the debate rules over her own microphone. Truth be told, he had been so wrapped up in his game that he had forgotten she was even there.

He could hardly even see her due to the stage lights, so he looked for the news & TV cameras instead. That was where he would focus. That was who he was campaigning to after all, to the millions watching on TV. They were who he wanted to win.

As the cameras went live the moderator once again recited her introduction & the rules for the debate. This time leaving out bits & pieces that pertained only to the candidates themselves or to their staff. It was really showtime now.

“Good evening, & welcome to the first debate for this year’s U.S. Presidential election. The participants are President Josiah Bartlet, & Mr. Loki Laufeyson. I am Rachel Maddow your moderator. The topics this evening will all be pertaining to U.S. domestic policy. The format for the debate is as follows, & has been agreed to by both campaigns. Each candidate will make a 2 minute opening statement. The debate will then be divided into 6 segments, each 14 minutes long. At the beginning of each segment I will ask both candidates the same lead-off question & they will each have up to 2 minutes to respond, we will then move into open discussion for the rest of the time allotted. At the end of the debate each candidate will be given 2 minutes to make a closing statement. Mr. Laufeyson you won the coin toss, so we will be beginning with you. You have 2 minutes for your opening statement please.”

Loki shifted his weight from foot to foot, hands poised on the edges of the podium. He glanced downward & licked his lips. A smile spread across his face as he brought his gaze back up, locking into the cameras.

“Well, first of all thank you dear Rachel & my opponent, President Bartlet, for taking part in this glorious display of… purpose… before the American people. I know you all feel lost, like leaves scattered in the wind. Without a true direction. That is the downside of freedom, it diminishes life’s joy as you scramble for identity. In order to truly embrace all that this life, this country, has to offer you must put your trust in a true leader. Someone who will lead you down the path toward greatness without question or hesitation. I will be that benevolent leader if you put your trust in my hands.”

“Thank you Mr. Laufeyson. Now to you President Bartlet.”

“I grew up on the promise of life, liberty, & the pursuit of happiness. Along the way, however, we learn how important so many other things there are in our lives. Healthcare, an education, family. Those are just a few that pop to mind. I am, & will be a, president who see’s these issues as ever evolving questions seeking adaptable solutions. As your president I will continue to fight for policy that pulls us forward together, not pushes people into a line. To unite as one family; because at the end of the day, if you have people to call your family - even if you aren’t related by family - you are never truly lost.”

Loki could feel the color drain from his face. Bartlet had just fired a shot across the bow, within the first five minutes of the debate Loki knew he was already starting to sink.

————————

It simply got worse from there. On Asgard Loki never had to attend to matters of actual policy. He was trained as a sorcerer & warrior with a birth right to the throne. Why in the nine realms would he have bothered to learn about budgets & taxes? He was a prince, destined to be a king. A ruler waiting for his throne.

Despite his best efforts to keep up, & even throw a few quick magical charms to make his answers sound more polished, he knew he was floundering. The bile was rising in his stomach as he watched the human to his right take the last of the open question time.

All he had to do now was deliver his closing statement. Then he would re-evaluate. He knew he would have to make a big move tomorrow if he wanted to hold any footing .

“We have now come to the final segment of our debate, the closing statements. Mr. Laufeyson, you have 2 minutes.”

“Standing here, before all of you, I must confess that I spent much of my life being lied to. Many of you have also spent your lives being lied to, by the politicians who claim they will put your needs first. Being told you were something only to find out it was all fiction. All they really care about is power. It’s time for something different than these same lies time after time. I will never feed you those same lies, I will lead you to where you can fully flourish. I will make it easy for you.”

“President Bartlet, you have 2 minutes for your closing statement.”

“While I know that many voters prefer to not delve too deep into the world of policy specifics, & I certainly understand why, but a president should be able to give you a specific plan of how they intend to solve the problems befalling our country. While my opposition here certainly has a flair for language, even when it edges a tad on the overdramatic, I have yet to hear him detail exactly how he will lead this country to a better place. I can tell you that there aren’t many un-nuanced moments in leading a country, it takes much more than fancy generalities. So, Mr. Laufeyson, my question to you is what comes after the generality? What are the next 10 words? How are we going to do it? Give me the next 10 words after that & I’ll drop out of the race right now.”

Loki stood yet with his mouth agape. Fists clenched so tight on the podium his knuckles were white. A mere mortal had bested him, & he knew it just as well as Loki did. Even the moderator had appeared stunned at Bartlet’s closing statement bravado.

As the moderator closed out the debate, the tv camera crews began their scuttle over to the spin room to try & get the best spot for interviews. Bartlet smiled & waved to the audience as he strode offstage. Loki stood there, basking in the stage lights for just a moment longer. Taking a deep breath to compose himself before turning & leaving through the other side of stage. He could already see staffers & stagehands clearing a path for him, they could feel the frustration radiating off of him.

His campaign staff would be taking care of all the post debate interviews. On his best days he hardly had patience for them, on days like today he would rather be looked in closet with his brother than deal with the media’s pedantic prattling. Loki had a plan to put together, & he had to put it together fast.

[lifeofyellowpearl]

Yellow Pearl Goes Over Old Files: The Diversion Agreement

Of the hundreds of files present on my holo-screen, my eyes fixed upon yet another of personal significance. Its personal meaning, found not within its content but within my experience surrounding the controversy brought upon by its abrupt inception. It is suspected, though seldom acknowledged, that the current resource crisis, which has come to define Era 2, had long been foreseen by White Diamond. And that in its earliest beginnings, the eldest ruler had begun making turns for redistribution of resources as well as redelegation of personnel. It is doubtless to me, with that in mind, that it was her surreptitious need for redelegation which prompted White to do what she did. Though I had heard whispers of Pink Diamond’s violent tendencies, I had never seen first-hand the full extent of her rage. That is, never until that fateful day.

I still had the duty of serving Pink Diamond as her temporary pearl since White Diamond had yet to provide a suitable replacement for the one she seized from the neophyte ruler. We had just returned to the moon base from a particularly clamorous meeting over which Pink was still fuming. Much to Pink’s greatest annoyance, White had made the unilateral decision to divert 10,000 Lapis Lazuli away from the construction of Pink’s colony. To the end that they may be redelegated to other projects throughout White’s Jurisdiction.

To make such a call without even bothering to alert - let alone consult with - Pink Diamond was not only a measure yet unheard of but a gesture of great disrespect. That White Diamond had violated the very protocol she, herself, ratified in making such a discourteous move infuriated Pink all the more. When word of this reached the young diamond, an emergency meeting was convened at which even Blue and Yellow Diamond expressed marked shock and discontent at White’s thoughtless action. And so, to placate her peers, White Diamond agreed that the order for redelegation would be - hastily - rewritten into a “mutual agreement” between White and Pink, requiring the signatures of both parties. Pink was not happy with this arrangement - especially considering that the gesture was all but purely symbolic. But, at the very least, she would be allowed to retain the Lapis Lazuli of terraform company 16. A company comprised of some of the finest that Homeworld has to offer. Pink also managed, after throwing a tantrum presenting her arguments, to secure the promise that White would no longer make attempts to divert resources away from Pink’s colony. These admittedly meager concessions were enough to earn Pink Diamond’s signature - albeit after some gentle convincing from Blue Diamond. But alas, it was not enough to quell Pink’s fury over the entire affair.

And so, for the very first time, there at the Earth Colony moon base, I was able to bear witness to one of the emotional blowouts for which the Pink Diamond was infamous. “I can’t believe her! Why would she do that! Why would she think I’d be okay with this??” Pink angrily paced, following no strict path or predictable direction, as she continued her tirade over what White had tried to do, “Oh but of course when I break the rules, it’s this huge goodman deal, but when she does it, it’s perfectly fine?? What even is that?? How is that FAIR?? I just… I can’t even….GAAAAAA!!!!”

I watched on as Pink, lost in the whirlwinds of her own rage, marched over to one of the glass panes of the base’s dome; upon which she took out her frustrations with a steady cascade of thunderous strikes. With every punch that Pink brought against the glass, I swear the moon itself trembled as though its very surface were jolted by the force of one thousand nuclear blasts! Truly it was a terrifying sight! As the rhythmic assault continued on, cracks in the pane began to appear, spread, and multiply; stoking mental imagery of potential disaster in which we are depressurized from the base as a result of the pane’s shattering.

Even more frightening were recollections of the injury sustained by Pink Diamond’s erstwhile pearl. An injury the poor gem was loath to discuss, as talks of its causation were a source of nothing but great anxiety and anguish for Pink’s loyal servant. Nevertheless, I had my suspicions of what - that is to say ‘who’ - caused that unfortunate pearl’s trauma. And seeing Pink Diamond now, in this truly horrific state, served to confirm my suspicions were correct. With this in mind, I was certain to maintain my distance and allot Pink the time she needed to fully release her anger. I did my best to remain at attention, in spite of the full-body tremors brought upon by the terror I was feeling at that moment. 

As time went on, the frequency of her pulsating strikes began to decrease. Until, at last, her onslaught came to an end and the final echoes of her thunderous rapping gave way to the default silence of this desolate place. The silence, however, did little to ease my nerves. For Pink Diamond now stood rigid and sullen with balled fists down at her sides, mumbling expletives through gritted teeth. Pink’s titanic fury had not died. It had only moved inward; barely concealing itself just beneath the surface of her inner gem. To this very day, I can still safely declare that at that moment, I was more frightened than I had ever been before or since.

My thoughts wandered back to Pink’s former pearl as many of her idiosyncrasies began to make sense to me. The ease with which she startled, the frequent hand tremors, and, most telling of all, her occasional hesitation in returning to her diamond’s side when summoned back from the pearl chamber. “I do hope her elders didn’t upset her too much.” I once heard her say. What I initially thought to be a statement of selfless concern, I now recognize to have been an expression of self-preserving fear. Indeed, that pearl had seen, known, and personally experienced, the truest extent of Pink Diamonds capabilities.

All of this, I was contemplating when my thoughts were interrupted by the tone of an incoming message. Still on edge, I fumbled with my holo-screen until I was finally able to answer the call. A Lapis Lazuli appeared on my screen. It was then commander of Terraform company 16, 528’s predecessor. I don’t remember her facet or her cabochon, and due to the circumstances leading to her unfortunate stranding on that doleful planet, such identifying information was blacked out on any and all files in which she is mentioned. I struggled to gather myself, “This is the Yellow -Er - White…” I had to pause and take a breath, “Sorry. This is the Pink Diamond control room.”

“Yeah, hey...” The Commander replied with an air of mild vexation, “I’m calling about the proposal my company sent to Pink Diamond?”

“Proposal? Which one?”

The commander nearly rolled her eyes. But she knew better than to let slip such an expression of disrespect when speaking of a diamond - unlike her loathsome colleague, 528. She did, however, sharply inhale before pursing her lips, I assume to prevent the quiet utterance of an expletive eager to escape her breath. “Uh, yeah. It was the proposal about a stretch of land that was originally reserved for the construction of a city. Peridots in my company have found that this land would be better suited for a kindergarten and that the city could be moved further north.” The Commander awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck “I eh...heh...I forwarded that proposal to Pink Diamond several weeks ago, and the city planner is really getting on my case.” Her nervous laughter did little to mask her exasperation.

I had to ponder for a moment before I remembered, “Oh yes, of course” I replied, “how could I forget such...wait, has Pink Diamond still not gotten back to you on that?”

“Nope.” The Commander’s frustration was still actively tempered but no less apparent, “Nope. Nope. Not at all. I mean, I get it. Pink Diamond’s busy but...I kinda need an answer so if you could just...”

“I’m sorry, but now’s not really a good time.” Of course now wasn’t a good time! Now was quite literally the worst possible time! I had no intention of disturbing Pink Diamond now. Not while she was in this horrible state. I’ll admit it, I was frustrated with Pink. I didn’t want to be, but I couldn’t help it. I had forwarded that proposal to her the moment I received it because I understood it’s importance. I marked it to be saved under her “high priority” tab and even let her know that the proposal was there, waiting for her reply. She acknowledged it but was so distracted by the images of “Earth’s beauty” - her words, certainly not mine - that it likely slipped her notoriously absent mind.

The Commander took another deep breath. I could already see that her forced politeness was dissipating, “Well, here’s the thing. The city planner is threatening to move forward and break ground, so I need an answer. Like...right now.”

“I understand, commander but with all due respect…”

“Please...don’t ‘with all due respect’ me. I have waited patiently for weeks, and I am running out of time. I need to know what to tell the city planner, and I need to know immediately.”

“Commander please, listen-”

“No, you listen…” I watched, over the course of our interaction, as The Commander’s demeanor change from a forced civility, to an abject annoyance, to a calm sternness, “When word gets back to the Diamond Authority that a city was built on top of a potential kindergarten without Pink Diamond’s knowledge, they’re going to be asking why she wasn’t made aware of that land’s viability before we went ahead with construction. They’re going to wonder why Pink Diamond wasn’t given a chance to make a final call. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

I sighed. I did understand. Someone would be held responsible for ultimately allowing tons of raw material to go to waste. That someone couldn’t be a diamond, and The Commander was making it clear that that someone wouldn’t be her. I could see it, now - stained on my record in bright red lettering, ‘Failure to forward vital information to her superior.’ Such an error would not be easily forgiven. The Commander wasn’t giving me a choice, “I understand.” I said, resigned, “I will remind Pink Diamond of your proposal, immediately.”

There was a sigh of relief followed by a brief moment of silence. The sternness with which The Commander addressed me had gone. Replaced by what appeared to be a twinge of remorseful understanding, “Look...I heard about what’s been going on, and I understand that Pink Diamond isn’t exactly in the best mood right now. But this shouldn’t cause too much of a fuss, right? All I need is ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’ That’s it.”

“Yes...of course.”

“Thank you...good luck.” We both signed off with an unspoken understanding that this would not, in fact, be easy. But it was necessary. I turned to Pink, who was still facing the damaged pane, her back turned to me. Still seething. Still grumbling. Still ruminating. I began my approach slowly and methodically, so as not to startle the irate diamond. I could almost feel the ire radiating from her person as I got closer. Once directly behind her, I cleared my throat in an, albeit immature, attempt to grab Pink’s attention. It seemed to have worked as her head raised slightly. Yet, she did not turn to face me. I took a deep breath, mustering every ounce of courage that I had at my disposal, “Sorry to disturb you My Di-”

“Now now…” She growled those words with a quiet intensity that would send a chill down the back of even the most hardened quartz.

I truly wanted nothing more than to leave Pink Diamond be. Unfortunately, the situation obligated me to press further, “My Diamond, please. This is very impor-”

“I said, ‘not now’” again, I was shaken by her simmering inflection. But time was of the essence. I couldn’t let up.

And so, pushing aside the remainder of my apprehension, I made one final, more forceful, attempt, “My Diamond, I beg of you. We really need your…”

“SHUT UP!!!” In a single, rapid, fluid motion, Pink whipped around! For a fleeting second, I looked into the eyes of the frightful, raging diamond! Words could never describe that hateful look in her eyes! Much less the true extent of the fear it struck. But it was only for a second that I was able to catch a glimpse of that hideous gaze. For the very next second, I was off the ground! In the air! Ascending! Flying! Then falling!

I have no recollection of the moment I hit the floor. I can only recall the moment immediately thereafter. I was lying on my back, staring up into the heavens through the glass dome above. Only half-aware of what had just transpired. My ears were ringing. My mind was abuzz. I was all but deafened by the cacophony of voices of my now panicked inner-pearls. As the moment went by, the voices began to fade as my cruelest inner pearl regained her dominance over the rabble. Once I recovered the full extent of my faculties, I was able to hear her voice, loud and clear; just as biting and scornful as always. You stupid clod! You stupid idiot clod! You stupid worthless idiot piece of filth clod!! You just had to push her, didn’t you? This is what happens when you forget your place!! You’ve killed us! Do you understand? You’ve killed us!! You’ve killed us!!

‘You’ve killed us.’ Over and over that statement rang through my head until I was finally able to surmise it’s very grim, very literal meaning. Without looking, I placed my hand over my gem and shuttered internally when I felt the rapidly spreading cracks. In that moment, I thought of what I could have done differently. Of what I could have done better. I knew how Pink Diamond was. I knew how forgetful she was. I should have anticipated that the proposal would slip her mind. Why didn’t I remind her? Why didn’t I at least ask about its status? Why didn’t I try harder? Why didn’t I do more? I should have been more proactive! I should have been more tactful! I should have been more careful! There was little room for doubt. I was dying, and it was my fault. Stupid clod. I thought to myself, look what you made her do. Stupid...stupid clod. Though I knew that I was static, it felt as though my body were sinking, and it appeared as though the stars above were receding away, further into the ether. I felt that the heavens themselves were judging me, mocking me. And, of course, they were right to do so.

It wasn’t too much longer before I heard the rapid, approaching footsteps of a now panicked diamond. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!” Before long, Pink Diamond came into view. She knelt down over me, clasping her head in both of her hands with a look of frenzied concern. “OhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygod!!!” In a gesture far outside the realms of social acceptability, Pink bent down and embraced me, cradling my head in her hands as she rocked back and forth, all the while hyperventilating. With my cheek now pressed against hers, I could feel the tears streaming down her face, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” No. This wasn’t right. A diamond should never find reason to apologize to a pearl. I wanted ever so badly to remind her that the fault was mine and mine alone! That it should be me apologizing to her! That I was the one to provoke her. And now, thanks to my worthless stupidity, I have caused even further distress! I wanted so much to tell her all of this, but I found myself, for reasons unspecified, yet unable to speak. 

Pink Diamond then pressed her face against my chest, sobbing into my gem, releasing my head to hang limp and allowing me another view of the stars above. There was no room for doubt. The heavens were indeed judging me. 

“I’m sorry!” Pink cried, “I’m so sorry!” as her tears made contact with my gem, I could feel the cracks disappearing and my body regaining its vigor. It was as though Pink’s tears had healed me of the very injuries she inflicted. I was then able to raise my head and see Pink, yet unaware of my rejuvenation, still crying into my gem. Making for a somewhat awkward situation.

“My...Diamond?” Pink pulled away, seeing that she had healed me. She embraced me again, now overjoyed. “Oh, thank the stars!” she exclaimed. She got up and helped me to my feet, “I am so sorry. I-I don’t know what came over me! I was angry at the other diamonds and I just.” There she goes, again. I hated that she felt the need to apologize. Or, to be more accurate, I hated that I made her feel like she had to apologize. As if I didn’t feel terrible enough, what Pink said next still makes me cringe to this day, “Can you ever forgive me?” 

I bowed my head in absolute shame. That I had driven a diamond to the point of asking me, a pearl, for forgiveness was a misdeed that I could hardly bear. “There’s...nothing to forgive, My Diamond.” I whispered, “It was my fault. I’m the one who should be sorry...”

Silence. I didn’t dare look up at Pink, though I suspect she still felt guilty for what had transpired. Perhaps she wanted to say something to ease my distress. But there was nothing that she could have said. I am her pearl. The responsibility was, and always will be mine. 

I suspect it was her realization that nothing could be said to ease my feelings of shame and self-loathing, which prompted her to change the subject, “Um...right. So what was it that you needed?” 

In the frenzie, I had nearly forgotten. I, too, wanted nothing more than to put this conflict behind us. And so, I gathered myself and stood at attention to properly address Pink Diamond, “Oh...yes. Um, The Commander of Terraform Company 16 requested your response to a proposal. She had sent you. It was the…”

“Oh god! The proposal!” Pink exclaimed with a gasp. Pink brought up her holo-screen and anxiously scrolled through her inbox. “Gah! I can’t believe I forgot about that! Where was it? Where was it?”

“It should be at the top of your ‘high-priority’ tab, My Diamond” I said.

Following my suggestion, Pink found the proposal. “Oh! There it is! Now what was it…?” Pink tapered off as she went to sit on her throne, now fully engrossed in her current task. It seemed she had almost immediately forgotten about the preceding events. I went to take my place next to Pink Diamond. Standing at attention as she carried out her tasks. The rest of that day was largely uneventful, but that conflict would remain fresh in my mind. Amazingly, the same couldn’t have been said for Pink. For her, it really was though the whole thing never happened. 

As I observed this, I remembered something else Pink Diamond’s former pearl once said of her, “What I really admire about Pink Diamond is how quickly she’s able to forgive herself. She almost never dwells on her actions for long. Why, she hardly dwells on them at all! I sure wish I were like that!” ------

Author’s Note: Hey guys. Finally got around to posting another entry. Sorry about the delay but the truth is, I haven’t been doing well. Like...at all. Don’t wanna get into specifics but everything is kinda been falling apart, lol 😅. This may seem weird but if you don’t mind, I could use some words of encouragement if you get ‘em Anyway, here’s the Diversion Agreement. Making these documents has been surprisingly fun. They certainly make for a nice distraction, lol

[dreams-got-dimmer]

NEW GIRL (BolinxReader)

PART 1

Summary: multiple part fic?? + AU kind of (The reader is 18, Bolin is 18 and mako is 20) Reader desperately needs a place to live and finds an advertisement for two brothers who need a roommate. Maybe more than just living arrangements may come out of this deal... (reader x Bolin) (slow burn)

Warnings: abandonment??

Word count: 1600~

—————

Time was running out and I still didn’t have a place to stay. I can still hear my fathers voice telling me that no bender belongs in their family. I never asked to be born a bender, but it was a part of me. Something I couldn’t deny and my parents didn’t want to accept that. I had tried to keep my practicing a secret but my little sister let it slip that I was working on fire bending. I thought I would resent her for the slip up, but nothing in me could hate her for it, she meant no harm. Even still that slip up cost me my relationship with my family. There was no hesitation in throwing me out. We fought and screamed and eventually I lost my temper and my emotions boiled over. As tears spilled down my face I burned down our whole dining room area. That right there is what solidified me never being able to return to my family.

“You monster! Look at what you did! Get your things and leave, you’re not our daughter anymore,” my mother spat at me in disgust. I ran as fast as I could to gather my things and slipped out in the dead of night.

Since then I haven’t seen or heard from my family and it hurt so bad. Even if they didn’t accept who I was I just wanted to be loved and cherished by them and I would never get that. It was hard to go a day without a lump forming in my throat and my eyes welling up, but I had to be strong and determined for myself. Three weeks at the shelter had already been wasted and they only allotted a month for you to get back on your feet.

Most days were spent trying to find some sort of income, most jobs were just quick money, but I was closer and closer to finding steady income soon. If I wasn’t looking for a job I was trying to find a place to stay. Most, of not all were out of my price range. I ended up back at the shelter day after day discouraged and frustrated by my lack of luck. The staff at the shelter were getting increasingly annoyed by my outbursts of anger and flame and I’m sure they were happy that I was almost out of there. Granted I felt bad about being destructive but they always gave me a tight smile and assured me that things will get better.

And today was the day things got better. I almost squealed out of happiness seeing the paper plastered on a bulletin board at the pro-bending arena. I thought I wasn’t reading it right, but after a few moments I knew it was true.

The poster read,

“2 BROTHER IN NEED OF A ROOMMATE

•Three bedroom loft just above the pro-bending arena

•Great view of Air temple Island

•100 Yuans a month

If interested just knock on our door

- Mako and Bolin”

That’s all I needed. I ripped off the poster and made my way to the loft. I didn’t care who they were, just the fact that 100 yuans was totally doable. I had about 500 yuans saved up from the little jobs I had done here and there and the little bit I had saved from birthdays. I nearly sprinted my way to the loft and left myself breathless in front of the door. I was too excited to even feel nervous as I started knocking. Practically banging until the door swung up.

“Is it that necessary to bang?” Before me stood a very attractive. Like very attractive man. Tall and even a bit lanky. He towered over me. And while he seemed serious he didn’t seem too intimidating. Maybe it he was and I just couldn’t realize it because I was so determined at this opportunity.

“Yes. Definitely,” I rushed out quickly as I pushed past him. I took a look around and while it was simple, it was perfect. Roomy and open and a great view through big windows. The light flooring made the place seem so much bigger too. “Are you going to tell me who you are since you just barged in like you own the place?” I turned back towards the tall man and saw him narrow his eyes and his hands twitch. His eyes were like fire.

“Oh yeah sorry, I’m y/n and I’m most definitely going to own this place,” I nodded my head assuringly, more for myself then for him, “well not own, but at least pay rent,” I waved the poster a bit.

“Okay okay before you introduce yourself let me guess which brother you are,” I surveyed him and then looked at the poster with the names. Bolin didn’t really seem to fit so I went with the latter. “I’m gonna guess your Mako. I feel that it fits with your whole persona you got going on,” I smiled, but he just stood there wordlessly, “Oh wow I’m so sorry I know I must sound crazy and very upfront right now. I’ve just been desperately trying to find a place to stay. My parents kicked me out and I have no where else to go. I’ve been stuck at the shelter and my time is almost up and I saw this poster and I thought this was my lucky break. Now I’m just rambling...” I trailed off and was surprised at how honest I was.

“Mako! Who are you talking to down there?” My head whipped towards where the sound came from and saw a form jump down the stairs and landed loudly on our level. And once he straightened out I was faced with ANOTHER gorgeous man. What the hell have I gotten myself in to!? My breathing stopped as I got a good look at him. He was stocky and you could tell he had thick arms and legs without him even taking his clothes off. His broad build and wide stance lead me to believe he was an earth bender and his emerald green eyes were something to get lost in. I shook my head waving these thoughts away. These are potential roommates, not people to drool over.

“I’m y/n I’m trying to find a place to stay and I luckily found your poster. I hope no one has taken you guys up on the offer,” I smiled sheepishly. I fiddled with the poster looking down, “I promise I’ll be a great roommate, I can cook and clean and I’ll stay out of your way-“ I was trying to plead my case and ultimately got cut off

“You’re perfect!” Emerald eyes broke out into the cutest grin there could be “let’s get you moved in right away! Are you a bender? I’m an earth bender,” he flexed his arms subtly, “My brother and I are pro-benders and that’s how we get to live up here in the loft. Oh by the way I’m Bolin. We’ve had people try to be our roommate, but they’ve all been a bit... how do you say serial killer-esque,” he grimaced at the last sentence. He was so much more talkative and charismatic than Mako who I guess was the older brother. Had to be serious to contain this ball of energy.

“BOLIN! you can’t just let her move in we need to discuss this together. We barely know her!” Mako clenched his jaw.

“Well, what do you want to know?” I asked quietly looking back and forth between the two.

They both started firing questions at me. Bolin a bit more enthusiastically than Mako. His questions were also a bit more light hearted. Favorite color, food, what my hobbies were and easy things like that. Mako on the other hand was digging real deep asking questions that I wasn’t even sure I wanted to answer, but I knew they had to be said.

“What did you do to get kicked out?” Mako looked at me with an accusatory glare.

“I didn’t do anything!” My eyes welled up, “I got kicked out for being who I am! I’m a fire bender and no one else in my family has there bending ability. They are so against it. My whole life was a battle. I wished so bad they would love and cherish me even, but all they wanted to do was suppress who I am,” I started crying without shame and I knew the boys didn’t know what to do, “My sister let it slip that is have been practicing bending. I’ve gotten away with it for 10 years and it just now became known,” Bolin handed me a tissue with the utmost concern in his eyes. Even Mako looked a little sad, “Well, my family disowned me immediately and in the midst of our fight I lost control and burn our dining room to bits and that made them hate me even more. So, here I am a month later trying really desperately for two brothers to let me become their roommate,” I smiled weakly my face sticky with drying tears.

“Alright you can stay but I need the first two months rent right now. Please don’t make us regret this. I feel for you and your hardships, but if you do anything to fuck over what we have I won’t hesitate to throw you out,” Mako looked at me sternly and Bolin was almost jumping with excitement.

“REALLY!??” I practically screeched. I rummaged through my bag and threw the money at Mako all while pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. I moved to Bolin and did the same thing.

“You guys won’t regret this I promise!”

[my-shipper-heart-beats]

Would You Like To Have Dinner?

Why, hello there, strangers! I’m sorry this took so long.  Life happened and this definitely fell by the wayside.  The good news is, I’m trying this new thing called self-care, and my therapist tells me completing unfinished work can help provide a sense of closure and accomplishment. If you’re still following this mess, thanks for sticking by it.  I’m already working on the next chapter, and I promise it won’t take me another four years to publish it.

ao3: here and fanfiction: here

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4.1 part 4.2 part 5

~~~~~

“Rosie tells me you had a lovely time at the museum while we were gone,” Mary said, smiling widely.  She had had her daughter spill all the details of Sherlock’s date with Molly.  Now, she was going to enjoy tormenting her husband’s best friend.  

“Rosie is a misguided four year old child,” Sherlock answered.  “The evening passed without incident, and everything was fine.  But I would not categorize it as ‘lovely’.”

The detective busied himself reading the morning paper.  It took a few moments for him to realize the reason nothing made sense was because the words were all upside down.  He crumpled the paper and threw it to the side with a frustrated huff.  He didn’t know why he was feeling this way.  He didn’t even know what he was feeling.  He was, of course, very much against the idea of getting saddled with a wife and family.  He was in no way, shape, or form cut out for the life a family man. However, there was just something about Molly.  She was smart.  She didn’t let him get away with anything.  She put him to task when he stepped out of line.  

“Oh yes, I can clearly see how completely unaffected you are,” Mary stated with a chuckle.  She had never seen her friend as uncertain as he was now.  

“Perhaps, I have come to realize that, perhaps, there is more to Molly than I had originally assessed.”  As much as it pained him to admit it, he was wrong about the pathologist.  He had just written her off as a competent lab assistant.  Clearly, there was much more to her than met the eye.  

“Oh, the big, bad detective has feelings then?” the petite blonde said with a quirk of her eyebrow.

“Nobody said anything about feelings.  I just think that I may have misjudged her,” Sherlock shot back defensively.  He folded his arms like a petulant child as he threw himself onto his favored chair.

“Well, maybe you should plan an actual, nice date for your next meeting,” Mary replied, rolling her eyes.  She had had just about enough of this supposedly grown man having trouble dealing with being an actual adult.  

“It is not a date!  But you are right.  Maybe I should plan a less malicious day, just to show her that I respect her on a professional level.”  

~~~~~

Something seemed off about Sherlock.  Molly wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she did know she didn’t like it.  He had walked into the lab without his usual theatrics.  He hadn’t told her to run any tests.  He hadn’t demanded a cup of coffee.  In fact, he had barely spoken a word to her.  Now, he was sitting quietly, fiddling with a microscope.  

Finally, the pathologist couldn’t stand the silence any longer.  “Is there anything I can help you with, Sherlock?  What are you working on?”

The detective looked up from his work abruptly.  “No.  None for me thank you.”

“I was just asking if you wanted any help on whatever it is you’re working on,” Molly replied, a bit confused.  

“Oh.  I thought you asked if I wanted anything to eat,” Sherlock said, looking back down at the microscope.  “Did you want anything to eat?” he added nonchalantly.

“No, thank you.  I’m fine,” the pathologist responded.  She turned back to the lab bench and resumed her work mixing her reagents.

“If you did want something to eat, what would you want?” Sherlock refused to look up from the microscope but shot a quick glance towards Molly to gauge her reaction.  

“Well, I’m not particularly hungry at the moment, but I was planning on picking up some Greek on my way back home,” she replied absentmindedly as she continued her work.  

“Excellent!” Sherlock quickly rose from his chair and made his way to the door.  “I’ll meet you at the Greek taverna down the street at 7.  We may as well get our monthly outing out of the way.”

He left the lab without so much as a backwards glance. Molly stared, confused, at the door as it swung closed.  She hadn’t ever seen Sherlock act this way before.  If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was nervous.  What in the world had gotten into him?  Finally, her curiosity got the best of her, and the pathologist wandered over to where the detective had been working previously. She looked into the microscope and found herself even more confused than before.  There hadn’t even been a slide on the microscope.  

~~~~~

Molly sat uneasily at the table.  Sherlock was fifteen minutes late.  She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous.  It would just be a dinner, that’s all.  She and Sherlock had gone on other, far more exciting, outings.  Even so, the petite brunette could not shake the fluttering feeling she felt in her stomach.  As the pathologist tried to busy herself by tracing her finger along the blue lines on the tablecloth, the waiter approached her for the third time that night.

“Would you like to place your order yet? Or perhaps just another glass of wine?”  The look on his face was one of patronizing sympathy.  

“I think I’ll wait just a little longer,” Molly replied with a tight smile.  She’d give him just 5 more minutes.

~~~~~

Sherlock ducked into an alley and kept running.  The evening was not going as he planned.  This case was supposed to be simple, barely a three.  Yet, here he was, running around the streets of London, trying to lose the absolute behemoth of a man who had broken into that warehouse.  Lestrade had said it was tactile company, that nothing of value had been taken.  What Lestrade didn’t know was that the company had actually been a front for an arms dealer, an arms dealer that did not appreciate Sherlock poking around his business.  

The detective turned another corner.  Looking over his shoulder, he was satisfied that he had lost his pursuer.  Glancing at his watch, he realized it was just after 7. If he hurried, he would be able to make it to his date with Molly without being too late.  As he moved to quicken is pace, a large figure blocked his way.  Sherlock looked up to see a very angry looking arms dealer scowling at him.  It may take him a little longer to get to the restaurant than he anticipated.  

~~~~~~

It was 8.  Molly gathered her things, placed a few bills on the table, and left the restaurant.  She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and she angrily blinked them back.  Why was she even feeling this way?  It’s not like it was a real date.  It’s not like Sherlock had any sort of obligation to her.  Something more important had probably come up, that’s all. Now, she would go home to Toby, heat up some leftovers, and watch Bakeoff.  A lovely way to spend the evening.  As Molly started walking down the sidewalk, a hunched figure stepped into her path.

“Leaving already?”

Molly gasped.  It was Sherlock, and he was in awful shape.  His clothes were disheveled.  His lip was bleeding.  He had a large gash on his forehead.  His eye was swollen.  He was hunched over as though trying to alleviate some pain in his abdomen.  He had been through something terrible.  

“Oh, Sherlock!  What happened?” she managed to ask.

“Had a run in with a rather unsavory character.  Nothing to worry about.  I’m sorry I’m late,” the detective responded, trying to mask the pain in his voice. “Let’s head back in there and have dinner.”

“Are you mad?  Look at you!” Molly shouted, gesturing wildly at the man before her.  “We need to get you to the hospital!”

“Nonsense! I’m perfectly fine.  No need for hospitals,” Sherlock protested.

“At least let me patch you up.  Your flat isn’t too far from here.”  Molly looped one of his arms around her awkwardly, and the two hobbled slowly the 221B Baker St.

~~~~~

Sherlock winced as Molly dabbed at the cut on his forehead.  He may have bested the juggernaut, but he hadn’t escaped unscathed.  The good news was, there were no broken bones or internal bleeding.  However, it hurt to breathe and there were several bruises already forming all over his body.  He really needed to brush up on his hand-to-hand combat.  

“He really did a number on you,” Molly whispered as she leaned forward to check for any more wounds on his person.

“Why do you assume it was a he?” the detective retorted.  “Women can also be very skilled fighters.”

Molly rolled her eyes at that.  “Fine. They really did a number on you.” She gave him one more once over before pulling away.  “There. You’re all set.”

“Thank you for your help,” he murmured, watching her pack away the first aid kit.  For a brief moment, he wanted to reach out and take her hand, but he thought better of it.  “I’m sorry I ruined the evening.”

“It’s nothing important, just dinner.  I’m just glad you’re alive,” the pathologist replied, trying hard not to let her voice betray how disappointed she had been.  She moved to the kitchen.  “I can see if I can throw something together for us.”

Sherlock wasn’t sure why he was stung by her words, why her doubting her importance hurt him so.  He looked over at her as she rummaged through his kitchen looking for something edible.  She pulled a bag of toes out of the freezer, shook her head, and returned them to their allotted place.  She muttered to herself, and he could have sworn he heard her say something about him not know the proper way to store toes.  Eventually, she returned to where she had left him, looking defeated and holding a single carrot.  

“This is the one single item in there that is safe to eat,” she announced, slightly amused.  “I’m off to Tesco to find us some sustenance.”

~~~~~

The two of them sat at his kitchen table conversing over the delicious pad thai Molly had made.  She seemed so relaxed and at ease talking about the experiments she had been running and the interesting bodies she had worked on.  There was something about her right now.  It reminded Sherlock of the afternoon they had spent at the apiary.  She was one of the few people who didn’t bore him when they spoke.  She was brilliant and challenged him.  He never tired of her and her abundance of knowledge.  Sherlock realized at that moment that he would not be content to go back to the way things were before, the way things would soon be after the mandatory six months were over.  The detective found himself wishing that they had more time.  

[reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle]

BOOK ONE, PART ONE — Yubi Meets Bolin

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Yubi, the firebender for the Turtleduck Trio, tries to raise some entry money and meets a handsome stranger.

Downtown Republic City was as busy as ever — cars rolling down the street, the sound of horns honking and people laughing echoed against the tall buildings. Several smells floated in the breeze, from the sour smell of exhaust to the sweet smell of street food. From her booth at the end of the street, Yubi could smell the distinct scent of Water Tribe cuisine — a smell she’d grown to know as her dear friend Toanok’s cooking. As usual, it smelled incredible, causing Yubi’s stomach to rumble at the prospect of snagging some leftovers when her allotted time came to an end.

The afternoon sun had finally creeped behind the tall buildings of downtown, something Yubi felt grateful for as her warm skin began to cool in the shade. For a moment, she thought that maybe she should have splurged for an actual tent, something that would keep her shaded under the blazing sun, but she knew deep down she wouldn’t have been able to afford it. She was lucky to have even gotten a spot at the downtown market. The spot alone was seventy-five yuans up front, and only for half a day — though, in all honesty, the market owners could have been hustling her. A seventeen year old wanting to sell handmade clothes downtown on a busy day? She must have seemed like a joke.

Luckily enough, business had been good. The spot at the end of the street had been a good one, though she had doubted it at first. People would probably have spent all their money by the time they reached her, she had originally thought — she never accounted for the people coming in from the other side of town, and came to the conclusion that the market owners probably didn’t either, when they had charged her such a ridiculous price. The joke was on them, though. She had already made up the money she paid out of pocket and then some. At that rate, with a few more odd jobs here and there, she’d most likely be able to pay her share of the Pro-Bending Tournament entry fee.

30,000 yuans, Yubi thought, shaking her head slowly. So ridiculous.

When she had decided to join Amka and Genji in pro-bending, she thought she’d at least be winning more money than she was paying. If she didn’t love it so much, she would have given it up long ago to pursue something a little more lucrative. She was thankful for Amka, who spent most of her days waitressing at a tea shop uptown just so they all could make ends meet. They were all lucky that people uptown were able to tip so well.

Yubi and Genji made money for themselves, sure, but they were both practically unhirable when it came to steady jobs. However, Genji had found a place in an underground fighting ring — but the money wasn’t always what was promised — and Yubi was doing alright selling the clothes she made in her spare time, when she wasn’t doing various demolition jobs around the city. As it turns out, the only people who would even think about hiring a combustion bender off the streets were demolition squads. They didn’t pay well either.

But the three girls seemed to make it, sharing a small apartment near Republic City’s port. Amka had gotten very skilled at stealing ingredients from the tea shop when no one was looking, and Genji was a very good cook, so they never had to go hungry. Nothing else really mattered, as long as they had each other. It had been that way as long as Yubi could remember.

Yubi had always believed they were all fated to meet each other. Looking at the three of them, it seemed unlikely that they would all get along as well as they do — tall, refined Amka; short, excitable Yubi; and even shorter, chaotic Genji, who looked, for lack of a better term, absolutely feral. They loved — and fought with — each other like siblings. If their connection wasn’t evident from the way they interacted with each other, it was on the pro-bending field. They moved as a unit, agile and skilled, acting as though they could hear each other’s thoughts. Toanok had mentioned many times that it was truly something to behold.

Yubi reckoned it was the biggest reason she couldn’t give up pro-bending. She loved being out on the field with her friends, the rush of working with one another towards a win, the determination they provided each other. She felt most connected to them when she was on the field.

In retrospect, while ridiculous, thirty thousand yuans didn’t seem like a lot of money when she compared it to how valuable that time with her friends was.

Which is why at the end of her shift, she didn’t mind that she had spent half of the day on her feet. She had earned a killing, nearly a fourth of the money she would need. She could easily make up the rest.

As she packed up her things, Yubi picked up the faintest hint of the smell of street food. She turned around, following the scent, to find Toanok with four boxes of food in his hands.

“How did it go, Yubi?”

Yubi beamed at the older man, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Really well, actually. I made quite a bit this morning!”

“Don’t suppose you still have that blue shawl, do you? I saw it while I was setting up earlier and I think my wife would love it.”

Yubi’s eyes lit up and she let out an excited squeal, “Of course I do! I saw you eyeing it, so I hid it away, just in case.”

Toanok placed a hand over his heart, an appreciative smile on his face. “How much do you want for it?”

Yubi shook her head fervently as she turned around to pull it from the box she had been packing. “Don’t be silly. You and Sina have done more than enough for me. It’s on me.”

“You don’t be silly,” Toanok shook his head slowly, “I’ll give you twenty yuans for it.”

“Ten.”

“I don’t think that’s how you haggle, young lady.”

“I would never dream of haggling you, old man.”

Toanok let out a hearty laugh, the wrinkles of his crow’s feet deepening. “Tell you what, I’ll give you twenty yuans and you can make a delivery for me, yes?”

Yubi pursed her lips. “I suppose you’ve got yourself a deal, my friend.”

“Glad to hear it.” Toanok smiled, as he leaned forward to place his boxes on the table. He then reached into his pocket to produce twenty yuans. “Those three boxes are for you and the girls, but that fourth one needs to go to Bolin. He’s midtown, doing some sort of street performance with his fire ferret. Can’t miss him.”

Yubi gave him a nod as she handed him the shawl. “Pleasure doing business with you, Toanok.”

“And you, Yubi. Don’t let my yuans go to waste — you enter that tournament and you win it, you hear?”

Yubi beamed. “You can plan on it!”

Toanok had been right about Bolin’s performance — it was hard to miss.

A little fire ferret danced around the square, doing tricks and chittering excitedly. Yubi’s heart practically melted as she watched.

“How cute!” Yubi squealed as the fire ferret ran around her, brushing up against her legs to say hello. “Hello, little friend!”

“He likes you!”

Yubi looked up from the ferret to see who she deduced to be Bolin, a tall, broad, handsome young man, staring down at her with a goofy smile on his face.

“I like him too.” Yubi grinned, looking back down at the fire ferret. “What’s his name?”

“Pabu.”

Yubi crouched down carefully, gently stroking Pabu’s back as he stood up to sniff at the boxes in her hands. “Hi there, Pabu. I’m Yubi.”

“Yubi…” Bolin repeated, with a sigh, the goofy smile on his face growing wider.

Yubi moved her hand to scratch behind Pabu’s ears, scrunching her nose at the small animal as it chittered again. “He’s very cute.” She mused.

“So are y-“ Bolin’s voice trailed off as he caught himself, before clearing his throat. “Yes, he is. Very cute.”

Pabu shifted his attention from the boxes of food to Yubi’s face, sniffing up against her nose and cheeks. Yubi let out a quiet giggle, and it grew louder as Pabu scurried up onto Yubi’s shoulder.

“Oh!” Yubi cried out, excitedly. She stood up, slowly, and smiled up at Bolin. “He’s so friendly!”

“Pabu’s a sucker for a pretty face.” Bolin waved his hand dismissively, before flushing profusely at his statement.

“Must be why he hangs out with you.” Yubi retorted, causing Bolin’s blush to deepen. He was nearly as red as Yubi’s blouse.

Bolin clammed up, his eyes darting back and forth as if he was trying to figure out what to say, but Yubi beat him to the punch.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Yubi held the stack of boxes out toward Bolin, “Toanok sent me with some food for you! That top one is yours.”

Bolin let out another dreamy sigh, “Thank you, Toanok!” He murmured, taking the box from the top of the stack. His stomach let out a loud rumble, and he dug into the food immediately, scooping a large portion into his mouth.

Yubi let out another giggle. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Bolin groaned, his mouth still full. “I haven���t eaten all day. Been too busy trying to rack up some money to enter the pro-bending tournament.”

Yubi’s eyes lit up. “No way! Me too!”

Bolin’s expression shifted to match Yubi’s as he swallowed. “No way! You play?”

Yubi nodded enthusiastically. “I do! I play for the Turtleduck Trio!”

“I play for the Fire Ferrets!”

“That’s why your name sounded so familiar!” Yubi snapped her fingers, “I’ve heard some of your matches on the radio!”

“Now that you mention it, I think I caught the end of one of your matches the other day!”

“Wow!” They both exclaimed, laughing along with each other, before letting it die down, turning into nervous sighs as they realized how close they had drifted towards each other. Bolin cleared his throat as they both took a step backward. Pabu chittered sadly.

“Soooo…” Yubi forced herself to look away from Bolin, shifting her gaze up to Pabu instead. “Have you made any money today?”

Bolin shook his head. “Not really. I made a bit, but not nearly enough if we’re serious about entering.”

Yubi nodded slowly, pursing her lips. She looked down at the satchel around her waist, then back up at Bolin, then back down at the satchel. She could spare a few yuans, right? After all, it was for a good cause. Pro-bending brought her so much joy, it was only right of her to share that joy.

Yubi reached down into her satchel, producing ten yuans, holding them out to Bolin. “I know it’s not much, but-“

Bolin gently pushed her hand away. “I can’t take that, you just said you were trying to raise your own entry money!”

“It’s really fine, I can spare a few yuans!” Yubi thrust her hand out again.

Bolin shook his head fervently, pushing her hand away again. “I’m not taking it!”

“Come on, Bolin!” Bolin seemed to freeze as Yubi said his name. “I just wanna see what you can do in the ring! How am I supposed to do that if you won’t take the money?”

Bolin, still frozen, only shook his head again. Yubi let out a dramatic groan as she yanked on his hand, pulling him closer. He nearly dropped the box he was holding as he let out a yelp. Once his face was level with Yubi’s, she scowled at him. “Take the money.”

Bolin gulped, his face flushing again. “You’re stronger than you look.”

“You have no idea.” Yubi beamed, the scowl melting away. She looked down at Bolin’s empty hand and took it in both of hers, prying it open and placing the money in it. Bolin’s face was red once again as her hand slid over his.

“There!” Yubi closed his hand and gave it a pat. “No take-backs!”

As if to further her statement, Pabu crawled down Yubi’s arm and onto Bolin’s closed hand.

Bolin gulped again. “Fine. I will take the money. Thank you.”

Yubi gave a small shrug, a sly grin forming on her face. “It’s no big deal. You’re gonna wish I hadn’t given it to you when we beat you, anyway.”

“You are so scary.” Bolin sighed out, with a dreamy look on his face.

“Wait ‘til you see me on the field.” Yubi winked, reaching up to scratch behind Pabu’s ear. “Nice to meet you, Pabu! And you too, Bolin.”

“Yeah, good to meet you too.” Bolin called, as Yubi had already started walking away. “So good.”

lok taglist: @hughstheforcelou (let me know if you’d like to be added to my lok taglist!)

[phoenotopia]

2020 October Update

So... we've launched. And our launch was... actually kind of... bad...

This is a dev blog, so I'll speak on it. But before that, we do have the game's steam page up. If you're anticipating the PC release, please do visit the steam page and add it to your wish list. It would help us a lot.

VISIT STEAM LINK

...

So what didn't go so well?

1. We launched in Nintendo's Americas and Europe territory. If you've been following the release, you'd know that America got the game first. We didn't move to launch in Europe at all since I thought the EFIGS languages (English, French, Italian, German, Spanish) were pre-requisites for Europe. By the time I learned that this wasn't necessarily the case, and attempted to course correct, the damage was done. We had half the allotment of keys to do outreach, and maybe some European outlets that would've covered us, did not.

2. When the game launched, rather than a victory lap, what we experienced was more of a public lashing. We did get some reviews that praised the game highly, but just as many reviews lampooned the game for its high difficulty or other failings. I've since released two patches (or 3, depending on how you count it) to address the difficulty. A lot of overnighters. If you recall in the last blog post, I thought it'd be a good start if we got 20 or so reviews on Open Critic. But we've only 8 as of this writing, and the aggregate score isn't so hot. So that's a fail by my metric.

3. A publisher reached out to us because they were interested in physically printing the game! Yay! But... to advance our talks, they wanted to see the game's sales numbers to ensure that there's a good chance their investment could be recouped. And unfortunately, the game's sales numbers are pretty low. They backed out :(

Some hard lessons were learned. The biggest lesson for me concerns how well we playtested the game. Looking at the original playtester list, it's a short list. You may recall from a previous blog post that our ability to test was severely hampered by technical limitations. Add to that, a lot of people on this list are objectively really achieved players. We're talking power ranked in Smash Bros, regular tournament goers, and people who've played and bested every Souls game. And as the maker of the game, I am most blind to the game's challenges.

Now, I'm definitely more of the opinion that you prioritize PC development first. I still have some reservations about some stages of PC development. But if you do PC/Steam first, you have the great benefit of being able to do Early Access, which gives you access to a greater testing pool. I now view it as an invaluable part of the equation. If we had been able to do Early Access for 1 or 2 months before release, we probably could have ironed out most of the game's difficulty and balance problems. Hard lessons, indeed.

There were a lot of other notable events that occurred over the past 2 months - the travails of press outreach, realizing my own limits as a developer, feeling defeated and getting back up again, etc. There's too much stuff to chronicle or go into detail. But it wasn't all bad.

Some good things did happen...

We got a publisher to publish for Japan! It came as a huge relief, because clearly, we don't know what the heck we're doing.

The publisher has been an invaluable source of information and feedback. They've recommended some changes to the game to improve user experience. Some of these changes I was hesitant to do at first because they concerned systems I thought integral to the identity of the game. But after trying it, I have to admit, they're good changes.

So a Japanese version of the game was moving ahead. And it looked like that'd be it. I wasn't planning to move forward with any other language translations due to the game's low sales and our funds being depleted. 

But, I was approached by a translator who urged me to move ahead with translations. He told me he was willing to work for only a small price initially and then be paid the rest after from a percentage of the game's sales until the cost of the translation was paid in full.

I was surprised translators were willing to work under such a model since it's entirely likely the game's current low sales trajectory would continue and they wouldn't earn back the full cost of translation. But I was also flattered they were willing to take a risk with me. After that, I approached some others with the same hypothetical deal, and long story short, we're now moving forward with French, German, Spanish, Portuguese and Russian translations. As for why these languages in particular, they were languages for whom I had contacts (because they reached out to me at some point in the past). And also because they were deemed more likely to be profitable based on their home country's gaming market/buying habits. I'd be personally happy to have my native language be represented, but it's not expected to be a profitable territory. But if the game does better in the future, it may justify the costs of translation. There could be a chance!

The plan right now is to get the game supporting these first round of languages and then to patch that into the Switch version as well as launch the PC version with these languages - all in December. A lot of things need to align for this to occur, so a delay isn't out of the question. It'll be busy... I'll update the blog again in latter half of December, probably near the game's PC launch date... OR to announce a delay. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

Fan Support

While the past two months have been grueling, one good thing remains constant - fan art! Thank you everyone who submitted. It means a lot to me and the team!

Big thanks to Pimez who's taken on watching over the reddit community as moderator. He also combs the other communities and makes sure I see every new art piece. Despite juggling his own life and all these tasks, he still found some time to draw.

Pimez's piece reminds us that just because the new game's out doesn't mean we can't still celebrate the original flash game. The jail dog is a dog found only in jail and only in the flash game. I imagine Gail is just tossing a stick, and they're playing fetch.

A new artist to this scene æv draws both the Phoenix logo AND a super cute picture of Gail playing the flute. So precious, you want to pinch her cheek. Even the Sand Drake is enthralled!

Another new artist, beet4ppy arrives on the scene with two pictures! One features a no-nonsense battle-hardened Gail looking stoic and tough! Kinda reminds me of Vinland Saga actually. The other, a more cheerful group composition - I must say I'm a big fan of Fran's classic anime-style eye!

A returning artist, Cody G, returns with a picture depicting the tribulations of cooking. Gotta love Gail's frantic expression! I've heard the complaints, which is why we've added an option to slow the cooking mini-game down. An improved button font is also on the way.

Gamesing with two undertale x phoenotopia crossovers. Thomas being a robot builder makes sense taking a role similar to Alphys. But why is Alex dressed like a clown? Perhaps there is a hidden meaning here... 

A new artist, Warotar, draws both a pooki wearing Gail's clothes and Gail wearing pooki clothes. Awww. The pooki is a bit scary - it kinda reminds me of a tragic event in a certain anime. But the Gail is adorable!

POL#5655 submitted this one to KM's discord which made its way to me. Here, a stylized Gail appears unnerved by the dark red eyes stalking her in the background. Are they bats or something more sinister?

A new artist, MilesCPW, arrives on the scene with three rare well-vectorized arts! Love it! One scene depicts Gail balancing a bomb on her head - that's a speedrunning trick I only learned about recently after someone emailed me a video O_O

The other drawing gives us new insight into Katash - he could actually look cute if he wasn't trying to kill you.

And the bees... Okay, this one got a chuckle from me :D

A returning artist roccy_chair draws this heart-warming scene from the beginning of the new game. Aww. Mika doesn't get much screen time for story reasons, so it's nice to see her represented.

UnrealWorld_32 returns with another drawing of Gail in Panselo, this time capturing a more idyllic time. I like the tranquil nature of this piece. And Gail does in fact play the guitar, denoted by the guitar in her room.

Returning artist shafiyahh draws a nice portrait of Prince Leo - looking regal and princely. I like the storybook art style of this piece. It made me immediately think of "the Little Prince" - one of my favorite books actually!

Negativus Core returns with a beautiful group composition of Gail and the gang - flying from a Switch shaped window - totally sensible considering the game is only Switch right now. As usual, I'm impressed by Negativus Core's use of challenging angles to frame a more dynamic shot of the characters. Great job!

And it wasn't only artists bearing the banner. I'd like to give a big shoutout to everyone in all the game's little communities (from the reddit to the discords to this tumblr). I've seen this community help newcomers with gameplay and walkthrough advice, discussions, updating the wiki, and so on. It does bring a smile to my face. Thank you everyone!

[purplesurveys]

1273

What was the longest time you’ve had the hiccups for?  Maybe for half an hour? Mine are never that bad.

What type of TV shows are your favourite?  Not a big TV show type of person to begin with since it seems as if my attention span wasn’t built for once-a-week, season-breaks kind of content haha. I do like sitcoms, I guess...bite-sized ones like Friends, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Big Bang Theory, etc. Drama shows I’d bite into if the plot is extremely intriguing to me or relevant to my interests, like The Crown or Breaking Bad.

Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything?  I was before then I wasn’t for a very long time, then I came back just recently with this BTS shit I got myself into.

Do you know anyone who has died in battle?  Hmm. I don’t think so. My great-grandpa lived a few more decades after the war.

When was the last time you went on an adventure?  July. My friends and I spent the whole day driving around and stopping by sooo many spots around the metro. It was a lot of fun and we were fucking b e a t after.

What brand is your vacuum cleaner?  I dunno. My mom mainly uses ours.

Are you good at rapping?  I have a number of songs and verses memorized that I can recite quite okay, but I can’t write any of my own.

Name one world issue that upsets you.  Racism.

How do you feel about tanning?  I never saw the the big deal. I will say tanning beds and salons are such a culture shock to me, though. Are some people really that obsessed with modifying their skin tone?

Have you ever given a public speech? Hmm, just the one time I was entered into a public speaking competition and was given a topic to talk about on the spot. That was honestly a lot of fun and I wish there were more opportunities to do that exact same thing.

Do you read comic books?  No. I tried getting into that whole thing, but didn’t see the appeal.

Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved?  Not always but if I’m starting to feel left out or awkward, I will start to ask a question here and there to ease my way into the conversation. But if the topic is clearly none of my business then I do stay out of the way.

Kiss with your eyes open or closed?  Closed.

Do you believe you can change someone?  This isn’t a black and white matter, I think. The idea of changing a person can have a lot of layers; in my org, for instance, I got to pick up a few quirks and behaviors from my friends just by being around them for a long time – in that sense, I changed. But you can also strive to change someone who’s struggling and try to make them become happy, which I tried to do with my ex – which of course I learned the hard way that you can’t change someone if in that context.

How did you react when your first pet died?  I was bummed out but didn’t throw a fit.

Have you ever drawn anime?  No.

Can you use a pogo stick?  I’ve never even seen one in real life. I’m dying to try it out just once.

When’s the next time you’ll see the person that you like?  I don’t like anybodyyy.

Do you like bathing/showering?  I mean...yes? Like I’m not obsessed with showering, but it’s a necessity that I have to regularly do anyway lmao.

Have you ever considered entering a race?  Sure! Just give me a couple of weeks to practice because my endurance and stamina are embarrassing.

Rihanna or Lady Gaga?  Rihanna.

Who was your first good kiss with?  My ex.

What accessory do you want in your bedroom?  SHELVES

What do you take the most pictures of?  My experiences.

What are you always in the mood for?  Starbuuuuuuckssssssss.

What is something that you never turn down?  A day out with friends. I’ll always make time. What is something that you always turn down when offered?  Food, if I’m a guest at someone else’s place.

Name something sexy about your significant other.  I don’t have any.

What is one of your hobbies that you refuse to give up?  Surveys, I guess. I enjoy them too much and have been doing them for nearly a decade.

If you could be a professional in any sport what would it be?  Tennis.

If you could be a professional at any instrument what would it be?  PIANO.

Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician?  Surgeon. I would be too terrified seeing dead people, anyway.

Have you ever been on a subway? Nope.

Are you in love?  No.

Do you like having your lip softly bitten when you’re kissing?  Sure. Softly, roughly...both are fine hahaha.

Do you want to get married when you’re older?  I hope so. I want my turn, too.

What was the last band shirt you wore?  Eh, I don’t own any. I wore a fanmade V-themed shirt yesterday, if that counts.

You can have a milkshake right now. What flavor do you choose?  OMGGGG that sounds so fucking good rn. Chocolate chip cookie dough.

Have you ever given someone flowers?  Mhm, I used to give my ex bouquets whenever it was our anniversary.

What day of the week is usually your busiest day?  Monday like 98% of the time, so I hate them. It ultimately varies, though. Sometimes some days are a hell of a lot more hectic than others.

Do you have any concerts coming up? I mean...obviously not.

Do you like or hate the smell of fish?  Oh yessssssss. The smell of seafood/ocean always makes me fucking drool.

What’s your favorite brand of chips?  Pringles, or this local brand of salted egg chips that I love to get.

Have you ever written a poem and then read it aloud?  Yeah, once. We had to write a poem as our homework and my teacher picked out a couple that he thought were the best-written, and one of them was mine even though I still firmly believe I did a shit job.

Do you like pineapple?  Oh god no. One of the worse fruits I’ve had.

Does your house have a dishwasher?  No. It seems to be just a Western thing.

Do you know anyone who has a flower tattoo?  I probably do, but I just can’t give you a lineup of names. Flower tattoos seem to be trendy these days, especially in the line style.

How many different languages can you say goodbye in?  So I have goodbye, paalam, 안녕히 가세요, adios, auf wiedersehen, sayonara, au revoir...so that’s 7.

Agree or disagree: You like Adam Sandler movies.  Ummmm definitely childish and I can feel that the humor tries so hard sometimes but I do enjoy some of his movies, like 50 First Dates. 

Have you ever had to get a tooth pulled? If so, what for?  Yeah, I mentioned this on a previous survey.

Have you ever dated anyone while they were in jail?  No, I’ve never dated anyone who’s been imprisoned.

If you’ve ever babysat, do you like it?  I ‘babysat,’ but technically all eldest Asian daughters are expected to look out for their younger siblings and cousins anyway. I didn’t actively enjoy it, but sure, it was fun playing with them and it’s always nice to be viewed as responsible.

What is your favorite flavor on sunflower seeds?  I don’t eat sunflower seeds. I don’t dislike them, I just really never seek them out.

Do you get cold easily?  Yes.

Do you get a lot of spiders in your house?  Hmm no. If we do get visited they are almost always too small to be seen.

Do you admire nature?  Yeah, I try to be around it as often as I can.

Name one naughty thing you’ve done.  Had sex while a few people were in the same room. I pay for it now hahaha; those friends who had the misfortune to be in that situation have never let me live it down and it’s one of their go-to stories when I’m being introduced to new friends.

Name two of your favorite things as a child.  I loved everything Bratz. I also liked Play-Doh.

Do you own a Pillow Pet?  No, I’ve never even heard of that.

Do you tend to solve problems with violence?  Never.

Have either of your parents gone to jail?  Nope.

Do you know a hoarder?  I heard my grandma had been one, but I didn’t see traces of it when I used to visit her. I guess she had been when she was younger and stronger. I show traces of hoarding too, but I don’t think it’s at a concerning level; I literally just threw out a bunch of shit in my room I’ve hoarded over the last five or so years.

Do you wax, pluck, or leave your eyebrows?  I don’t touch them; I’m never all that worried about my appearance. On very rare instances, I will shave some of the excess hair off. Do you have any interesting scar stories?  None of them are interesting tbh, just results of my own stupidity.

Do you hate the texture of meatballs?  I don’t hate their texture but I also just don’t enjoy meatballs in general. I find them boring, which has always led me to think if they’re really supposed to be just boring clumps of meat or if I’ve just always been served average meatballs.

Do you get migraines? Yes, I usually get one after work. They’ve decreased in frequency now but one will drop by every now and then to give me a shit time.

Do you like guns?  No.

Are turtles amazing creatures? All animals are. :') < Yes! Except cockroaches.

How much time do you spend taking surveys?  I dedicate an hour or so every weekend. I often wish I can allot more time, but I also have other hobbies and interests I would usually want to catch up on during the weekends. 48 hours is just too short :(

Would you rather visit: The Eiffel Tower or Egyptian Pyramids? Pyramids, in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even need to think about it.

Would you like to work at a candy shop?  Uh no. If I had to, it would be on the back-end, maybe in the corporate side of things lol.

Do you have feelings for someone?  Nope.

Which one of your guy friends is the best looking?  JM.

Do you have anything to say to your ex bf/gf?  No.

Which band do you have the most of on your iPod/music player?  I don’t use music players anymore but my Spotify always reminds me of how much I listen to BTS whenever they do one of their quirky listening habit reports lol.

Which song describes your mood at the moment?  I want to go with RM’s Bicycle just because I’m feeling quite content and relaxed at the moment.

Which movie(s) do you quote the most?  Eh, I’m not a big movie quoter.

Which one of your best friend’s friends would you most likely date?  I honestly don’t see any of them as date-able.

Would you ever let anybody else drive your car?  Sure. I’ve let Hans and Gab drive it countless times when I’ve had too much to drink. It’s a small car and is fairly easy to use and navigate. I would let Anj use it too at some point, but I want her to perfect her u-turns first hahahaha.

Which one of your friends will be the most successful?  It’s already one of my friends to begin with but I’m not naming names. They come from a privileged background to begin with and their godfather already handed one of his companies down to them, so. They were also told the CEO position is already a sure slot for them.

What store did you last shop at?  I wanna say NCAT, this Korean-themed store that sells trinkets and jewelries and plushies and stuff. They also sell BTS albums so Anj and I dropped by to check out and touch all the albums we can’t afford yet HAHA

Do you think telepathy is real?  No.

When did you last draw something for fun?  Last Saturday when I played an online drawing/guessing game with my uncles and aunts.

Who makes the most in your entire family?  My dad.

Do you like writing essays?  I love essays, it’s my favorite writing piece to make.

Do you think plastic surgery is no big deal?  It turns into one when it gets obsessive, like when people get excessive plastic surgeries specifically to look like another person. I’m looking at you, fucking Oli London.

Do you take your trash to the dump or have it picked up?  It’s picked up.

When you sneeze do you sneeze into your shirt or your hands?  I look away and just sneeze. Sometimes I’ll put up my elbow.

Do you usually have sex in the morning, noon or night time? Erm, I usually had it at night. I only had morning sex when we would spend the night; and I nearly never had noon sex.

Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test?  No.

Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?  Gun to my head, Lil Wayne.

Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently:  Reena!!! I’m so grateful Angela introduced us to each other :) We both tend to get shy so we don’t actually actively get chatty when we see each other irl, but I love her presence and I love that she is my friend. I make up for it by being super friendly and wacky in our group chat haha. Does your car have a sunroof?  No. We used to have a car that did, but we had to sell that during the peak of the pandemic.

Are you closer to your mom or your dad?  Dad.

Have you ever had a friend with benefits? No.

Who’s the last person you cuddled with?  My ex.

Are you friends with any of your teachers on Facebook?  Yeup.

[elaboratedbee]

Bigby x Reader

Pairing: Bigby Wolf x Reader (i changed this to be gender neutral!)

Summary: bigby deals with his rapidly growing feelings for the new Fable that moved into the apartment above his, a nymph. (alternatively, you give bigby flowers)

Rating: E (hella fluff)

Word Count: 4208 (idk how it got long it just did i’m so sorry)

Note: hey guys, this is my second imagine! :) I just love this wolfman rn and I literally cannot wait until s2! i’m a new blog so pls feel free to interact, or request something, bc corona has given me hella free time ;)

You Belong Among The Flowers

You

As you set down the last box in your new apartment, you let a sense of accomplishment wash over you. It hadn’t been easy to save enough money to afford an apartment in the Woodlands, but you worked hard managing your business, growing flowers and owning a florist as well as growing fruit and vegetables which you sold to the grocery stores in Fabletown. When Snow had informed you of the two new apartments that had become available, you couldn’t help but fall in love with the idea. The place you were living before was a little sketchy (read: it was a total shithole, and you were definitely close to getting stabbed on several occasions). 

This way, you would be closer to the allotments you had managed to buy right at the edge of Fabletown, closer to Snow who you had thoroughly enjoyed getting to know during the first couple of months of her deputy mayorship, and it was a hell of a lot safer. The Woodlands had the extra insurance of being the home of the big, bad wolf. Fabletown harboured some pretty stupid criminals, but there weren’t many people stupid enough to target the apartments across the hall from the Sheriff. 

The place needed some life in it, as soon as was possible, however. The stark and empty room made you uncomfortable, and as soon as you set your first fern down on one of the shelves, you immediately felt better. The best part about the place, which really convinced you to part with most of your savings, was the balcony. You couldn’t wait to have it bright with life, a practical jungle on your doorstep. A flower nymph with no flowers was not a happy being, so that was the first thing you got to work on, planting your seeds and setting out your pots. 

It was already falling dark by the time you were done, but you were more than content to spend the night on a mattress in the middle of the floor now that you were surrounded by, at least the beginnings of, a flower garden. 

Bigby

By the time Bigby reached his cramped, little apartment in the evening, it was usually long after darkness had fallen over Fabletown. As he turned the key in the stiff lock, a sigh escaped his lips. He’d been tracking a car thief all day and had not been successful. The detective hated going home with a case hanging over him; there was no way he would be able to get any real sleep while all of his thoughts and theories were racing through his head. 

Bigby opened the door, dim yellow light from the hallway seeping into the room. The lingering smell of smoke from his Huff and Puffs and the scent of whiskey hit his nose even harder once the door was opened, and even he grimaced slightly at the smell. He flicked on the light and took his phone off of the ringer, a habit that he’d developed long ago. It was nice to be enveloped in peace and quiet in the evening. It was the way he liked it, he told himself. Somewhere in the very back of his mind, he knew that he really made himself unavailable because that way he could pretend that being alone was a conscious decision that he made.

Making his way to the small window in his living space, he opened it in an attempt to allow some fresh (well, as fresh as it got for New York city) air into his apartment. Bigby froze as an unexpected scent was the first to hit him, and he inhaled deeply. It was a floral scent, different kinds of mingling together. Some overpowered the less aromatic ones, but Bigby’s sense of smell was heightened enough that he could pick out each individual smell and he traced it to somewhere above him. The pitch-black darkness outside made it a futile goal to find out where it was coming from, so he simply stood and basked in it, sure that it would be gone in the morning. He assumed that someone in a nearby apartment had received a bouquet of flowers and had left it on their windowsill. It was concerning that they had left their window open, he noted, even the Woodland building wasn’t particularly safe. 

A bittersweet pang of homesickness ran through his body like a shiver, pooling in his chest and making his heartache. Mostly, he avoided thinking about the Homelands, as it always resulted in the sad longing that he was feeling now. But with the scent in his nose so reminiscent of the beautiful woodlands and sprawling idyllic spaces that they had once called home, there was no way he could avoid it now. Once the initial sadness passed, he allowed himself to relax into the sense of security and joy that were stronger than any negative feelings when he thought back to their home and all of its splendour. Although the person, or monster, that Bigby had been back then was a source of regret, he could not deny that he’d do almost anything to trade the dirty, concrete cityscape outside of his window for hills and mountains, forests and rivers. 

For the first time that he could remember, he didn’t reach for a cigarette or a tumbler of whiskey when he sat down in his chair to rest at last. Instead, he inhaled deeply, and let the smell of flowers lull him to a restful sleep. 

When he awoke, he was pleased to find that the pleasant smell persisted, which made him considerably more optimistic about the day ahead. There was one lead that he thought to chase up, but he figured that he ought to fill in Snow on the recent happenings before making his way out. She was much busier now, since the Crooked Man. Things weren’t perfect, he didn’t think they would ever be, but they were certainly better. Snow was making changes, just like she had promised to herself and everyone that she would. When Fables came through the door of the business office, their wishes weren’t always granted, but they were always heard.

Bigby thought that was a step in the right direction. 

After showering and getting dressed, he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the correct floor. The line for the business office was already fairly long, despite the early hour of the morning and he resolved not to take up too much of Snow’s time. Ignoring the eye rolls and general disgruntlement from the Fables in the hallway as he bypassed the line, he made his way into the office. Snow was busying herself with a stack of papers, looking rather stressed at it all. He didn’t like to see her that way, but he did prefer it to the look of frustration and helplessness that he caught glimpses of when she was working as an assistant. 

Opening his mouth to announce his presence, he promptly closed it as something took him by surprise. On Snow’s desk was a vase of flowers, a big and beautiful bouquet. Proud white roses were peppered with baby's breath, all sitting on a luscious green bed of eucalyptus and hydrangeas. It was perfect, it was if it were an incarnation of Snow herself. He looked at it and realised, at that moment, exactly why people gave each other flowers, he had never had a reason to consider it. 

He must have been staring for a lot longer than it felt like because what finally broke him from his reverie was the sound of Snow’s laughter, soft and musical. Frowning at the sight of her mocking him, he flipped her off, which only made her laugh more. “Who’s the secret admirer?” He inquired, “I’ll need their address too, you know, just in case.” 

Snow glared at him.

“I’m kidding.” Bigby placated her, raising his hands in mock surrender. The smell of this bouquet was different from the one coming through his window, telling him that it was a different set of flowers, but surely the giver of these was also the source of the others. It seemed like far too much of a coincidence, otherwise. 

With a pointed look, Snow said, “you already know it. I told you last week that someone new was moving into the Woodlands! Since Crane is gone, we renovated his hideous penthouse into two new apartments.” Even the mention of his name raised Bigby’s hackles and got his blood boiling, so he could only imagine the disgust that his friend must feel whenever he’s brought up. 

“Right,” Bigby agreed, hazily recalling the conversation that he had definitely not paid his full attention to. It was no wonder that Bigby had missed them moving in, considering that he usually leaves the Woodlands in the early hours of the morning and returns in . . . the early hours of the morning. Yikes.

“I told them about the apartment, so they sent me these as a way to say thanks,” Snow explained, gesturing toward the flowers.

He wondered what their connection was to the flowers, whether they just liked them or whether they were a part of their history, their story. Once again, Bigby opened his mouth only to be interrupted by an inpatient sounding knock on the door. Snow jerked her head towards it before throwing an apologetic smile towards the Sheriff. “I’m sorry, Bigby. I have a lot to do. I should probably get going with these meetings.” 

That was his cue to leave, so the wolf nodded at her and made an exit from the office. He was busy, too, and things were never really peaceful in Fabletown, so it was probably for the best that he got going, but he couldn’t help but wish he had asked for a name.  

He was soon to find out, however, only a couple of days later. Taking a long drag from his cigarette, Bigby used his free hand to open his mailbox. It was more of a tradition at this point, considering he couldn’t actually recall the last time he received a letter in the post that wasn’t a bill. 

An out of tune ding announced the arrival of the elevator but Bigby didn’t turn around, not wanting to invite conversation. He had just placed the car thief into custody, and Snow was going to arrange a trial for tomorrow. The system was much fairer now, more democratic and he liked it that way. Being the final authority on the Crooked Man last time was some heavy stuff, and there was no way to make everyone happy. Now, there was a jury, a real trial, fair sentencing. Fabletown was slowly but surely dragging itself off the ground and trying to become a more just place, a more safe place. If Bigby could do anything to make sure of it, he would. 

Finally looking up, he turned his head to see which of his neighbours had joined him at the letterbox. It was you.

He almost choked on the cigarette in his mouth as he regarded you, and when he took it out and crushed it underfoot, he could smell you, too. Without the overpowering scent of smoke under his nose, the floral scent that he had been succumbing to every night since the first overtook him and he felt a strange constriction in his chest.

You were beautiful, ethereal, but in a much different way than he could usually describe. It was the quirk of your mouth as you offered him a grin and the glint behind your eyes that suggested you were laughing at your own joke internally. “Sheriff.” You addressed him by his formal title and Bigby was torn. He wanted to hear you say it again, over and over. Sherriff. You said it with respect, with admiration even. It wasn’t an insult, a sarcasm, unlike when most of the Fables addressed him with his title. But he also wanted to hear you say his name. It was this desire that returned his ability to speak.

“Call me, Bigby.” 

You closed your mailbox, holding your letters in your hand and smiled wider, introducing yourseld in return.

“I’ll see you around, Bigby.” 

You were walking away, and Bigby, for the first time, was struck with the desire to stop you, make you stay, talk just a little longer. 

“I, uh, I like the flowers.” He managed to growl out. You looked a little taken aback at his tone and he cursed himself, but you recovered and offered him yet another smile. He noted how you gave them out like it cost nothing. 

“Oh, Snow’s?” You prompted him for more information. 

“Yeah, and I can,” he made a vague gesture towards his face, “smell the ones you have in the windowsill. From my apartment.” 

Your eyebrows raised a fraction in surprise, and he felt a weird sense of pride. What the fuck is wrong with you? He thought to himself. 

“Really? I’ll keep them there,” you were so sincere, you made such a simple comment sound like a promise. He nodded, unable to think of yet another reason to delay you and altogether confused about why he was freaking out the way that he was. You stepped into the elevator and was gone. 

You

You stepped off of the elevator and into your apartment, placing the letters down onto a table. The place wasn’t huge but you had made the best of it. The walls had a fresh coat of white paint, making the place seem more open and bright, the furniture was simple, mainly second hand, but it fits. Best of all, your beloved balcony. You guessed that’s what the Sheriff had confused for the flowers on your window-sill.

Great, leafy ferns and potted plants adorned your apartment all over, but the balcony was the centre of it all, and it was only just beginning. You had planted all manner of things, and you were only getting started. Due to your being a  flower nymph, they grew faster, strong and healthy, and the seeds that you planted mere days ago were beginning to form buds, and even open up. The scent was sweeter. The plants were happier, but you couldn’t really explain that sort of thing to another Fable. They would laugh at the notion, but you could feel it.

Moving to the city had been hard for you, really hard. The nymphs were the caretakers of the homelands, the trees, rivers, lakes and plants. The animals, too, even if they didn’t always know it. To have it ripped away was more painful than anything else you could have experienced. It wasn’t just a home that had been taken from you, it was a part of yourself that had been left behind. 

Your mind drifted to your recent interaction as you watered them with care, and you felt your heart rate pick up when you thought of the Sheriff. He was tired, you could tell, but he seemed kind enough. It was a common mistake that nymphs only took care of the plants in the forest, when really they guarded the animals, too. It gave you more of a read on the beastially inclined residents, and you could almost feel the weight on Bigby’s shoulders as you stood next to him. 

I like the flowers. 

The compliment played over in your mind. It had taken you by surprise, considering what all of the other residents had told you about the big, bad wolf. You trusted Snow’s word above the others when she told you about him, that he was a man that wanted to change, had changed. He wanted to make this place better, she had told you, just like her. But even Snow had grumbled to you a few times about how stubborn, how hot-headed and how harsh he could be. 

Over the next couple of days, he was stuck on your mind. You paid far more attention to the coming and going of the wolf than before, realising for the first time that he was rarely home at all. Could this really be the same man that everyone complained about downtown? The one that Fables still questioned as to whether or not he really cared at all? Every time you passed him, you sensed his exhaustion, his frustration. His loneliness. But there was something else when you passed him, too. This little spark of joy and excitement. You knew it must be the scent of the flowers, what else could it be? He had already remarked on it.

Deciding enough was enough, you went about making him the perfect bouquet. 

Throughout the week, you worked on your gift. You arranged it untraditionally in a long, thin wooden box which was overflowing with greenery. Succulents and hydrangeas were scattered amongst them like stars in the night sky. Wild berries shone like jewels, clinging to their stems. Most importantly, bright white lily of the valleys hung like bells. You picked them because of their sweet scent, hoping that the wolf would enjoy them. They were common in the homelands, and you wondered if it would remind him of the place. 

Finally satisfied, you picked up the arrangement late one evening and stepped into the elevator. Am I being crazy? You thought to yourself as your grip on the box tightened. You just thought that all of the things the Sheriff did for Fabletown deserved a little recognition. It was the least you could do say thanks, right? 

Arriving at the correct floor, you took a deep breath before knocking on Bigby’s door. It was a little late for a house call, you realised, but he wasn’t home at any other hour. The wolf opened the door, scowling until he saw you. Confusion replaced the general displeasure on his face until he noted what was in your hands. “Oh,” his voice was full of realisation, “I can hand those to Snow if you want, but if you just wait until tomorrow, she’ll be back in her office,” he explained to you. 

What? You realised quickly that he thought the flowers were meant for Snow and you shook your head, a little saddened that he didn’t even think that they could be for him. 

“Actually, Sheriff, they’re for you. For your windowsill.” 

The man’s face went completely blank while he processed the information, which was kind of scary. The guy really didn’t give anything away. 

“For me?” He repeated, sounding almost suspicious as he raised his hand to his mouth and removed his cigarette, seemingly wanting to inhale the flowers instead.

“Yep.” You assured him firmly, “you said you liked the scent of them so I thought you might like some of your own.” With your words, the energy of the wolf changed. The exhaustion and anger faded substantially and he finally seemed warm, almost as happy as your flowers. You seized the opportunity. “You mind if I come in? I can tell you about watering them and stuff.”

Bigby failed to hide his face a little more this time, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I don’t have anything to offer you, and the place is a real shithole.” He warned you. 

“I didn’t come for anything, I just want to bring you these,” you answer and he relents, stepping backwards and opening the door to allow you in. You expected the smell of cigarettes to be worse, but he had an open window that seemed to be helping with that. You set the flowers down on the windowsill and turned to face him. He was closer than you had expected, and a blush broke out onto your cheeks at the proximity of the wolf to you. You are overwhelmed with the desire to step even closer, but you stay put. The man was already freaked out, he didn’t need your crush to make it any worse.

“Why?” He seemed reluctant to ask like he had been trying to answer the question himself but just couldn’t figure out the answer.

“To say thank you. You do a lot for us, especially those of us who live in The Woodlands. I think of how much safer this place is just because you live here. And you said you liked them.”

“I don’t exactly do anything other than be the Big, Bad Wolf.” He points out, and you catch a cutting undertone to his argument.

“Bullshit.” He seems surprised at your choice of words and raises an amused eyebrow at you. “You get up at the crack of dawn and you get home little before then, sometimes not at all. You single-handedly protect all of the Fables in this town. You deserve a hundred flowers.” You pointed this all out casually, shrugging your shoulders but Bigby looks deeply uncomfortable. You wondered why he was so tense as you pointed out all he does. 

You wondered if anybody does.

Bigby

He thought that if you come any closer to him then he won’t be able to stop himself from kissing you. He also thought that he can’t move away. 

The scent of the flowers, your scent, was making him feel almost dizzy. It was hard to believe that you were in his apartment, that you brought him flowers. You brought him flowers, you brought him flowers, you brought him flowers. Ever since they spoke, such a small, meaningless conversation, he hadn’t been able to get you off his mind. Sure that you had forgotten it by the next day, he felt like such an idiot replaying it in his mind before he could fall asleep at night. 

But you hadn’t. You had remembered what he said and brought him flowers. 

“Thank you.” He realised he hadn’t even said that yet, and he turned away to admire them, and so that he didn’t have to look at you anymore. Clenching his jaw, he implored himself not to ruin this already, to just control himself, like he had with Snow once upon a time. But this time, it seemed impossible.

Then, you touched his arm. 

He was so acutely aware of your hand on his skin the whole time that it was there that he could barely hear what you were saying. All of the nice things you were saying about him, falling on deaf ears. God, he felt pathetic. Was that really all it took to turn him stupid? One compliment, one touch.

He hadn’t been touched in a while, though. Not like this. By someone who wasn’t trying to hurt him, or calm him down. Not by someone who just wanted to be close to him. 

Fuck it, he thought, and stepped closer, leaning into your touch. There were inches between you now. 

You

All of a sudden, he was in front of you. His skin was warm to your touch, and his eyes were simmering with something. You think back over the last couple of days. The way you had watched him, the way you’d thought of him. How you had spent hours finding the perfect flowers, arranging them just so. That wasn’t gratitude or friendly admiration and you knew it. You wondered if he knew it.

You looked up and met his eyes, they were almost gold now that you were close, more than brown. That’s the last thing you remember thinking before you weren’t thinking anything, but feeling the wolf’s mouth on yours. His hand comes up to cup your face, holding you close and the other hand moves to your waist. It’s needy, and almost desperate as the both of you simply give in to whatever desire you were pushing back. 

His face was rough, and you delighted in the coarseness of his hands, a shiver running through your body. He invaded all of your senses, occupies all of you for the minutes, or hours that the two of you are interlocked. The sharpness of his teeth on your bottom lip, gone as quickly as it came prompted you to gasp ever so slightly, allowing his tongue passage into your mouth. When you finally pulled away, air a terrible, evil necessity to you now, you dared to open your eyes and reassure yourself that you weren’t dreaming. Bigby was still pressed up against you, his eyes a brighter gold than they had been before and his breathing urgent.

“I like the flowers,” he chokes out, “I really, really like the - “

You cut him off by grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down towards you once again, rolling your eyes slightly at how awkward he was. You’d figure it out. Kissing him breathless, you finally released him and met his eyes. “I like you too, Bigby.” 

The wolf shared a genuine smile with you, one that reached all the way up to his eyes and flashed his sharp incisors. You wanted to see it again, a million times.

You were going to need more flowers. 

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

Is it okay if you write a fanfic about Peter living with Tony and with a high fever. This leads him to be delirious and attacks Tony because he thinks he a villain that is trying to kill him. I'm sorry if it's too much to ask, it's just hard to find a good fanfic with a similar plot to that.

This took me a few days, but I’ve got you!  

Fever Terror -happyaspie (also on AO3)

Warnings: None    Rated: T    Wordcount: 4290

Tags: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Sickfic, Fever Dreams, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parkers Parental Figure ...  ....

The morning light was just starting to peek through Peter's cracked curtains when the alarm on his phone rang out pulling him from sleep.  Without ever lifting his head that was still faceplanted into his pillow, he haphazardly felt around on his bedside table in an attempt to get ahold of the device so that he could quiet the annoyingly disruptive noise.  After knocking several papers to the floor and tipping over a thankfully empty cup he managed to get a hold of the phone only to drop it instantly into the space between his bed and the nightstand.  "Fantastic," he grumbled to himself while reaching his arm into the tight space to fish out the offending item and finally shut off the alarm.

Once the room had grown silent again, Peter's eyes began to drift closed again.  The peace only lasted for a handful of minutes before May was knocking on his door.

"I'm up, Aunt May" he mumbled and then forced himself to sit up, scrubbing his hands up and down his face as he did so.  Soon after, he realized that he was more than a little groggy from a lack of sleep, he was sore from his head to his toes and there was a dull ache settling behind his eyes.  He vaguely wondered if he was coming down with something and wondered if he should stay home from school.  A glance at the date on the cracked screen on his phone made his decision for him.  It was Friday.  Not just any Friday, it was an 'internship' Friday and that meant spending the weekend with Tony.   On top of that, it was the day his class was meant to be taking a fitness test in gym.  He couldn't miss class.  His gym grade was iffy already.  He'd gone a little overboard in his attempts to hide his enhancements.  He was only a handful of points away from failing the class and really, who fails gym?

 "You could have scheduled a retake on the fitness test, you know," Ned unhelpfully stated as they slowly exited the boy's locker room.  

Peter sighed and nodded his head.  "Yeah but I'd rather get it over with and if I'd stayed home then May wouldn't let me stay with Mr. Stark.  Besides, I have a healing factor and super strength, I'm sure I'll be fine.  I just need a nap or something," he said, thankful that the coach started issuing instructions before his friend could say anything else.

As it were, taking the fitness test while not feeling well was both a blessing and a curse.  He ended up not having to do a whole lot of faking it when it came to downplaying his abilities.  After easily finishing the mile run at a leisurely human pace, intentionally letting go of the rope before making it to the top and jumping just slightly higher than Ned, he found himself unexpectedly sweating and struggling to complete the required fifty sit-ups in the allotted time frame.  

"What's the matter, Penis?" Flash snarked from beside him.  "You can't finish fifty measly sit-ups?  Even Ned managed to do more than that. Might need to change your name to Puny Parker."

"Knock it off, Flash.  We all know you lied on your exam card.  There's no way you did ninety-eight sit-ups in five minutes," Ned defended and Peter was grateful, he still needed to do at least seven more sit-ups and he wasn't sure he could do that, deal with Flash and breathe at the same time at the moment.  As such, he continued to only focus on getting his abdominal muscles to cooperate with him, missing whatever Flash had sneered in return.

The remainder of the exam was blessedly easy.  A few stretches and a BMI measurement were manageable.  Even so, the moment they were released to change clothes again, Peter thought he might actually cry.  He was just glad that gym was the last class of the day.  Once he was rinsed off and in his regular clothes, he sat down on the bench, closed his eyes, and drained the water bottle he'd just refilled.

"Dude, you look like crap,"  Ned observed as he plopped himself down beside his friend on the bench.

"Thanks, man.  You're the best," Peter grumbled in response.  When he looked beside him and saw the worry on his friend's face, he sighed.  "I'm fine.  I just tired.  I'll sleep in the car on the way to Mr. Stark's and feel better by the time I get there," he said with a wave of his hand.  Ned gave a dubious look but dropped the subject and soon enough the bell was ringing, signaling the end of the day.

The nap in the car did nothing for Peter's aching body.  It also did nothing for the pain behind his eyes or the mild nausea that had been building since the beginning of the car ride.  That didn't stop him from putting on a happy face and bouncing into the lab, though.  "Hey, Mr. Stark!  What are we going to be doing this weekend?  Do you think we'll have time to look at the web-settings in the suit?  I think I might have an idea for a new combination that would-" he rattled off while dropping his backpack and crossing the distance between himself and his mentor.

"-Are you sick?" Tony interjected before Peter could finish his rambled request, "Because you look like crap."

Peter stopped dead in his tracks.  He wasn't sure why he thought he would be able to hide anything from Tony.  The man noticed every detail of every little thing but that didn't stop him from making excuses.  "I had gym and we did this really stupid fitness test.   Maybe I need a shower before we start," he stuttered, then turned on his heels and rushed out of the room before Tony could comment.

Looking into the bathroom mirror, Peter finally understood Ned, Tony, and surprisingly, Happy's concerned inquiries.  His hair was still damp with sweat, his cheeks were both bright red and pale at the same time and his eyes looked glossy.  He really did look like crap.  He hoped the shower would help with that or at minimum, ease the soreness in his joints.  However, neither of those things happened.  He stepped out of the shower looking just as miserable as he had when he'd stepped in.  Maybe even worse.

As Peter walked out of the bedroom he spotted Tony sitting on the couch and was slightly taken aback.  He'd assumed the man would stay in the lab and wait for him.   "Mr. Stark?" he asked as he rounded the corner.

"Hey, kiddo.  You-" Tony began with the intention of asking the kid if he was sure he was feeling okay but he paused mid-sentence when the teenager flopped down beside him and leaned into his side already proclaiming that 'he didn't feel good.'

"Yeah.  I thought not," Tony replied with a soft smile as he allowed the boy to burrow into him.  "That's why I came back up here to check on you."

As much as Peter wanted to tell the man that checking on him hadn't been necessary, he didn't.  Now that he was sitting beside him, he was actually really glad his mentor was there and he didn't have to trek all the way back down to the lab.   He wasn't sure why he felt so terrible but for some reason, having Tony's arm wrapped protectively around his body made him feel a little batter.  He sat there quietly, soaking up the comfort for several minutes before sitting up with a sigh.    "Can I have some juice or something please?"

"You know you don't have to ask, Buddy.  Just go get what you want," Tony returned with a laugh.  He found it amusing that the kid had been coming over for months and still asked permission to get anything out of the kitchen.  Every time.  

When Peter returned moments later and curled right back up on the couch beside him, Tony sighed.  Clearly he wasn't going to be getting any more work done in the lab.  "I guess I'll start up some movies, we can work in the lab tomorrow if you're feeling up to it, alright?" he siad more than questioned and it was no shock to him when Peter nodded his head and requested Star Wars.

Two movies, another glass of juice, and a bowl of soup later, Peter was more than ready to go to bed.  The problem was it was Friday and going to bed at ten on a Friday was practically unheard of.  Usually, he took advantage of the weekends and stayed up entirely too late.  Especially when he was with Tony.  It was rare for them to go anywhere near a bed before one or two in the morning but when he could no longer keep his eyes open he finally gave. "Is it okay if I go to bed now?" he asked.   "I'm sorry, I'm-"

"You're sick, kid.  If you're tired you should sleep," Tony replied before Peter could finish his unnecessary apology.   "Let's check your temperature again before you head off, though," he added before sticking the digital thermometer under the kid's tongue for what was probably the eightieth time in the last several hours.  "That's not too bad," he said with a half-smile as he read the numbers to himself.  "Here, take your fever reducers and I'll wake you up so we can check your temperature again before I go to sleep, deal?"

"Mhmm" Peter agreed even though he felt like the constant temperature checks were ridiculous.  His fever hadn't changed since he'd taken the first dose of medication after his shower. He wasn't going to argue though.  He simply took the pills, said good night, and laid down in his bed, where he fell into what to become a restless and uneasy sleep.

__________

Peter was sitting on the edge of a highrise casually eating a hotdog while looking over the familiar Burrough.  It was cold outside and after some time he was starting to wonder why the heater in his suit wasn't working.  He could feel the chill starting to crawl up his spine, making him shiver.  He threw the mask back over his head so that he could contact Tony and let him know it needed to be repaired when out of nowhere, someone grabbed him by the legs and tied him up.  He tried to shoot his webs at the unseen assailant but they weren't' working either.  He began to flail leading him to unwittingly fall right off the edge of the building.  With no way to catch himself, he landed on the cement, sending shockwaves of pain through his body.

He lay there for several seconds, spitting out the blood that was pooling in his mouth from where he'd bit his tongue,  before realizing that there was a shadow looming over him.  The person was back-lit and he couldn't see their features but he assumed it was the same person who had tried to capture him up on the roof, so he rapidly sat up and started to scramble backward as best he could but his legs were still bound.  Once he'd hit a wall, he whimpered as the shadowed figure kneeled in front of him and reached towards his face.

He knew that without functioning web-shooters he was going to have to rely on his strength and immediately started swinging.  Within seconds he was able to strike the person's face and for the first time ever, the sound of his balled-up fist making contact with the other person's skin made his stomach clench and vomited without warning.  

As he continued to gag into his own lap he could hear voices but he was able to look up to see where they were or what they were doing.   All he was able to determine was that one was male and one was female.  When his stomach had finished contracting he sat there and squeezed his eyes shut waiting for someone to grab ahold of him as he tried to catch his breath.  Just as he was sure that the anticipation was going to kill him, he heard the sound of Iron Man's thrusters approaching.

Mere seconds later he felt the cool metal of the armor grab his shoulder and opened his eyes.  Relief washed over him and he was just about to fall into Tony's arms when the faceplate lifted.  Though rather than seeing the welcome face of his mentor, he was met with the piercingly green eyes of the Vulture and he panicked.  Somehow The Vulture had stolen Tony's suit and was going to use it against him.  He began to kick his legs and throw punches but the grip on his shoulder didn't loosen.  Instead, it held tighter than ever and he quickly realized that he was being lifted up and practically dragged to a new location.  

He frantically looked around himself trying to figure out where they were going and how he was going to get away.   Knowing that he couldn't let the Vulture take flight, he went limp, dropping his full weight to make himself harder to transport,  all the while grasping at anything he could get his hands on in order to anchor himself.  Expect everything he grabbed slipped through his fingers.  He resorted to squeezing and kicking the armor instead.  None of that worked and the next thing he knew he was being thrust under an outpouring of freezing cold water.  

The icy water came as such a shock that he pulled a gasped breath in and was unable to release it for several seconds.  He was drowning.  He couldn't breathe, the Vulture was using Tony's suit to hold him under the relentless spray and no matter how much he fought and thrashed he couldn't get free.  It took a while but the second he felt like he could take a breath, he started to scream.   "Tony!  Help me!  Please!  Mr. Stark!" he shouted over and over again until he no longer had the strength to get the words out and was forced to fall silent.  At that point, he stopped struggling.  He had nothing left to give.

As his body fell lax against the stolen Iron Man suit Peter closed his eyes and whimpered.  Normally the armor made him feel safe and comforted but know who was inside left him feeling lost and afraid.  He tried to pretend that it was Tony in the suit and mumbled his name.  He was surprised when he heard the man's voice calling back to him saying 'You're safe, Pete.  I've got you.  Mr. Stark has you.'  

__________

Tony had been in his bed casually propped up on the headboard, reading through a few proposals when FRIDAY alerted him that Peter was in distress.  Without further clarification, he bolted out of his own room and down the hall towards the kids.   He opened the boy's door just in time to see him tumble out of the bed and onto the floor.  Noticing the sheet wound around Peter's legs and the blood trailing past his lips, he kneeled down to untangled him and inspect his mouth for injury but before he could get close enough to make contact the teenager's breath quickened and he backed himself up against the bedside table.  

"It's just me, Buddy," Tony said before pulling the sheet away and reaching out to take hold of Peter's chin.  Only before he could make contact the frightened teenager began to thrash and one of his haphazardly thrown punched ended up hitting him solidly in the eye, sending him toppling onto his back.  "I should have expected that," he said to himself, knowing full well that he shouldn't have tried to touch the kid while he was panicking without some sort of acknowledgment.  He took a second to reach up and touch where his eye was starting to throb and hissed through his teeth.  While he knew the teenager had enhanced strength, he'd never been on the receiving end of it before.  He wasn't convinced that his eye socket wasn't fractured.  There wasn't much time to consider it before he heard kid wretching and he managed to look up just in time to see the boy vomiting down his shirt.

"Shit," Tony said to himself.  He'd come into the room, he'd seen that the kid's eyes were open and had assumed that he'd fallen out of bed while having a nightmare and was still trying to recover.  The fact that he'd gone to bed sick hadn't crossed his mind until that very second and at that point, it was all starting to click.  "FRIDAY?  What's his temperature?" he requested despite the fact that he would have preferred to use a thermometer even though he had an advanced AI that was capable of making a similar assessment.  He liked to think that sometimes, the best tool for the job was the simplest.

It only took a few seconds for FRIDAY to read off a number that had Tony cringing with concern.  It seemed that the kid's manageable fever had spiked as he slept.  Knowing that the boy wasn't likely to be cooperative in the state that he was in and not particularly wanting to end up with a second black eye, he opted to call for a suit.  With the servo assistance, he figured he could get them into the shower and cool him down enough to get him back to his senses.

With the armor in place, Tony reached down and grabbed Peter by his shoulder.  He was taken slightly by surprise when the boy's breath slowed at the contact.  Then thinking the worst of it was over he lifted the faceplate only to be met by the kid turning as white as a sheet screaming as though he'd seen a ghost.  "Hey, hey, hey.  Easy, kiddo.  It's just me.  I'm going to pick you up," he announced before hoisting the teenager up onto his feet.

As Tony began to walk Peter became more and more aggressive.  He'd already stopped bearing any of his own weight and had knocked over several things, including a bookshelf in an attempt to get away from his grasp.  The kid had already gone so far as to grab ahold of his armored arm and squeezed so tightly that the suit has warped under the pressure.  He was sure it would bruise and was glad that hadn't been his bare arm.  

"In we go, kiddo," Tony said before firmly grasping the kid around the waist and pinning him down under the spray of the shower that FRIDAY had started for him.  At first, the water was pelting them in the face but after a few struggled adjustments, he was able to readjust their position so that it was landing on their legs and chests instead.  At that point, Peter seemed to find his voice again and began to shout, 'Tony!  Help me!  Please!  Mr. Stark!' repetitively at the top of his lungs while trying to free himself.

Tony offered constant reassurances.  The kid's frantic pleas were causing his heart to ache.  He didn't know what else he could do to help ease the terror that had taken over the boy's consciousness.  That's how they spent the next ten minutes.  Peter screaming for Tony and Tony trying to convince him that he was already there. Though the most heartbreaking part of the whole ordeal was when the boy had finally run out of steam and fell limp onto his chest, still whimpering his name.  "You're safe, Pete.  I've got you," he whispered into the kid's ear.  "Mr. Stark has you."

__________

The moment Peter heard Tony's familiar voice saying 'Mr. Stark has you,' his eyes snapped open and all at once things started to clear up.  Gone was the dark alley and the spout of ice water that had been pouring from a pipe.  Instead, as he looked around, he realized he was in the bathroom that was attached to his bedroom in Tony's penthouse.   He was suddenly unsure of what was real and what wasn't.  When he looked down, he wasn't in his suit, he was in a pair of stained sweatpants.  He tentatively looked behind him, bracing himself for the worst.  He could feel someone holding him and was still unsure of who it was.  His breath quickened for the only moment when he saw the Iron Man armor but relaxed instantly the second he laid eyes on his mentor's face.

"Hey there, Buddy.  You with me now?" Tony asked, not loosening his grasp even after Peter had nodded back at him.  "FRIDAY? Is his temperature back down out of the rafters?" he asked next and when the AI relayed that the kid's temperature was still elevated but no longer dangerously so, he released his hold.  

"What happened?" Peter asked as he shifted his body so that he was laying chest to chest with Tony and curling up in an attempt to avoid the tepid water that was still falling against his back.

"Fever dream," Tony said wishing that he could retract the armor without having to force the kid to get off of him.  "Well, fever terror in this case, I think."

"Am I going to die?" Peter asked with a shudder.  Despite the lowered fever, he still hurt all over and was so exhausted that he could hardly breathe without effort.

"No, Buddy," Tony chuckled before reaching down to push the dripping curls off of the kid's forehead.   "I think we should probably get out of this shower and get you into some dry clothes, though," he said and Peter nodded, though he made no effort to move.   "You've gotta let me up, kiddo," he quietly spoke before helping the listless boy rise to his feet and step out onto the bathroom rug.

After being wrapped up in the giant towel, Peter got his first good look at Tony's swollen eye and bruised arm causing him to panic all over again.  "Did I do that?  Did I hurt you?" he asked, his eyes having gone wide and his lip quivering with feverish emotion.  

"It was my own fault, Kid," Tony said with a half-hearted smile.  "You were panicking and I should have known better than to try to touch you right then."

"I'm so sorry.  I don't- I didn't know it was you.  It was like I was somewhere else and the Vulture was in your suit instead of you and it felt so real," Peer said in an attempt to explain to the man why he'd lased out.  "I thought he'd stole your suit and was trying to drown me."

Tony just nodded his head and wordlessly helped the boy into some pajamas and because Peter's room still reeked of sweat and vomit, he guided his past the mess and down the hallway.  He could feel the boy stiffen under his hand as the entered the master bedroom but he assured him that a bed would be more comfortable than the couch.  When the boy relaxed he helped him under the blankets and handed him a bottle of water and some more medication.  Then after some minor debate, he decided to got find himself an ice pack and lay down on the opposite side of the bed.  He couldn't stop himself from smiling when the kid instantly pressed up against him. "Comfy?"

"Mhmm.  'M tired and you're warm," Peter replied, snuggling in a bit closer.  He was still chilled not only from the prolonged cool shower but the lingering low-grade fever as well.  

Tony chuckled and wrapped his arm around the boy to offer a little bit more warmth and comfort.  "Is that all I am to you?  A warm body?" he quipped but when Peter struggled to answer he had mercy on him and gave him a gentle squeeze.  "I was teasing, Pete.  It's fine.  Go to sleep."

Rather than going to sleep as asked, Peter lay still for several minutes.  He couldn't get past the fact that he'd hurt his mentor.  The man's assurances that he'd been out of his mind when he'd done it were of no help and the guilt was eating at him.  "Hey, Mr. Stark?" he asked, knowing he would be unable to fitfully sleep until he managed to quell the nagging remorse.

"Hmm?", Tony asked, caught slightly off guard.  He'd thought the kid was already asleep and had been on his way there himself.

Peter hesitated for a second and then sighed.  "I'm still really sorry I hit you," he said, turning his head just slightly so that he could see Tony's face.  Though, all that did was cause more guilt to wash over him when he saw the half-melted ice pack still resting on the side of the man's face.

"Yeah well, you can replay me by going to sleep," Tony replied with a smile, "-and not waking up until at least ten.  Preferably fever-free."

"I'll do my best," Peter promised before closing his eyes again.  He still felt awful about the entire incident but Tony was smiling at him and for the time being, that was enough.  He decided he could make it up to him properly when he was feeling more like himself.  Maybe by repairing the armor he was sure he's ruined.  Maybe by swearing to stay home from school the next time he felt like crap.  Maybe both.  He wasn't sure yet.  His thoughts had been cut off by a hand gently threading through his hair, soothing him into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

[solastia]

Tuqburni | Finale - Healing

Pairing: Yoonmin x Reader

Word Count: 5,308

A/N: Here we go, the “Official” ending. I will still eventually put out “Finale: Heartbreak” as an alternate version for those that wanted her to move on, as well as a small epilogue later on (will be nice and smutty and set in the future). For now, though, this is the end. It has been a very long journey with this fic as life often got in the way, and I thank (most of you) for being patient with me. I hope you learned a few things along the way. Each and every one of you is important and precious, never let anyone make you feel like you are a second choice or inferior. All relationships are complicated and communication is key no matter your dynamic. But especially so in polyamorous relationships. If anyone ever makes you feel like “the other” or “the third,” talk to them. If they won’t listen, leave. Your worth is not based on other people. You are worthy all on your own. Also, the weekly plan that my character follows is a real system that works. It was given to me by my counselor who I thought was a nut herself at the time, but it worked so well. I’m still working through a lot of stuff myself, but this weekly routine saved my life. 

It had only been a few months so far, but it felt like a lifetime. 

Seokjin and Namjoon had tried to talk you into staying with them, but you’d decided it would make you feel too guilty to rely on them like that and invade their space. Instead, you were now renting your own apartment. It came furnished and the lease was month to month so you could leave at any time. It felt nice though, having your own space, even if it didn’t allow pets. Especially once you’d been able to reduce Jin’s visits to no more than three times a week. 

Taehyung and Jungkook, friends of all of yours and signed to the company you worked for as idols, finally came back into town a few weeks after “the incident” while you were still staying with Jin. You’d forgotten they were due back and only discovered they were here when Yoongi and Jimin both showed up with black eyes and bruised cheeks. You had assumed they came from Jungkook - who had always looked up to you like an older sister - but you were pleasantly surprised to learn they had been inflicted by his boyfriend Taehyung instead. He had proudly admitted it during lunch one day while demanding a turn at petting your hair, and you wondered if he too saw you as a sister or a pet. Either way, you were touched that he thought enough of you to try to “defend your honor.” 

Still, it wasn’t like you never saw Yoongi and Jimin. You still had to work with them, obviously. Jimin worked on the other side of the building, but he had taken to eating his lunch with you, and you were usually joined by Namjoon and Jin so you didn’t feel too pressured. There was still the looming cloud of ‘someday’ that scared you, but without being forced to pretend to be and feel a certain way every day you were able to look at him in a new light. 

The Jimin that you saw now was one that you had caught glimpses of before. He was sweet and kind, but quick-witted and prone to just enough wicked humor to make him interesting. Unfortunately for you, he seemed to also be a natural flirt and making you flustered was as easy as breathing for him. After a couple weeks, you finally started to flirt back and the results were incredible. He would blush and act so shy that he would practically duck under the table. Seemed he could dish it out but couldn’t take it. Honestly, you were beginning to really look forward to your time with him every day. 

With Yoongi, it was naturally a little harder. Your first day back to work had gone a long way towards smoothing things over a little. Yoongi had actually dropped to his knees and bowed along with his apology. He apologized for the way he’d spoken to you that day, as well as for dragging you down into the mess that your relationship had become. The two of you had cried together and hugged, and he promised to go to counseling as well when you mentioned you had signed up to see someone. Anything, he promised. 

“I’ve been horrible and selfish, but not once did I ever stop loving you. I think I’ll love you until the day I die. I’m going to work hard to deserve even the scrap of affection you might still have for me. If you decide that you want to move on, that’s fine. Whatever makes you happy. But know that I’ll always be here loving you and you can come to me for anything at all.” 

Those words felt like a tattoo on your heart. A promise of forever if you ever wanted to reach out and take it. 

But first, you needed to learn to love yourself before you could accept it. You needed to learn to be strong and figure out more about you as a person before becoming a part of something so complicated again. Maybe then you would believe that you were an important part of the relationship, rather than a side piece or someone that they settled for. 

The first step was signing up for a therapist. She was a little pricy, but out of the four other people that you’d talked to before settling, she’d been the only one that made you feel genuinely comfortable. You were pretty self-aware of your flaws and why you had them in the first place, so it wasn’t like you needed someone to hold your hand and drudge up every painful memory. You just needed help trying to get past it all and get to a place where you were comfortable with yourself. 

The therapist was chill enough that even you thought she might work for Jimin and Yoongi as well, and they quickly made appointments with her when you told them. You obviously weren’t able to know what they were talking about with her, but you’d noticed after a few weeks that both of them seemed a little lighter. Jimin practically sparkled whenever he joined you at lunch and Yoongi was quick to smile when he joined you in your combined studio, sometimes sneaking a coffee onto your desk that was just the way you liked it. He’d even started bringing your dog Holly to the office every day so that you could spend time with him. 

Jimin and Yoongi admitted that several of their sessions have been as a pair since they had the added trauma of Yoongi’s prior attempt on his life. They asked you to come to a couple yourself since you were part of it as well. You were the one to find him and help him through all of it, and they felt that it would help any lingering bitterness or fear from the incident would be helped that way. You agreed and started attending once a month as a group. 

She was wonderful for you, you thought. You never felt judged, not even when you brought up the relationship with Yoongi and Jimin and how it was handled. She simply let you talk and then asked you what you wanted. To close your eyes and envision what you hoped was waiting for you at the end of this journey. 

Yoongi’s face was the first thing you thought of and wasn’t surprising. That Jimin was right there next to him and holding out a hand towards you was. You wanted this to work. You wanted to be happy, and you wanted them to be happy. Without you, if that had to be it. With you would be even better. Somehow Jimin had slotted himself a place in your vision of the future.  

One of her biggest things that she preached was finding a routine that made you feel happy and safe while building your sense of self. She claimed it was an essential part of healing for many, especially those dealing with past trauma like you. That while many of the tasks she wanted you to do seemed silly or self-indulgent, that in the end you might discover more about yourself and develop healthy habits. So, she assigned you a weekly routine to follow. 

There was Me Monday, in which you spent the entire day “dating” yourself. It was a little difficult considering your work, but the day was essentially pampering yourself as much as possible. You eat what you want to eat, you watch what you want, when you get out of work you go do what you want. You use that day to get massages or pedicures. She said it was to teach you that it’s okay to be a little selfish from time to time. That taking care of yourself and putting yourself ahead of someone else on occasion wasn’t a crime. It was healthy because at the end of the day no one else can live your life but you. 

Try Something Tuesday was essentially what it sounded like. You take that day to try something new. You tried out new hobbies, new activities. Anything that you had once said no to because you were scared, this was the day to do them. So far you’d gone to dance classes and discovered you were actually pretty good, went to play laser tag with Jin and his friends, and started biking almost daily with Namjoon. Jungkook has been trying to talk you into going skydiving and the fact that it terrifies you tells you it’s probably going to happen eventually. 

Work through it Wednesday was the day you went to see your therapist. You’d work through the list you had to make throughout the week of things you wanted to cover. A lot of what you went over was stuff that you pretty much knew inside your head, but she would drag it out of you and once it was out there and being spoken about by another person, it helped to see it in a new light. She covered everything from your abandonment issues to the fact that you had never fully put your trust in Yoongi in the first place. That you had always expected him to drop you at any moment and when he brought Jimin in, for you it was simply confirming what you had been telling yourself all along. That you weren’t worthy of being loved and no one would want you. When that came out, she essentially told you to snap out of it. That you shouldn’t let your anxiety win. There was a lot more to it, but you were working on it. 

“Them” Thursdays were one of the more difficult days. Since she counseled all three of you and all of your ultimate goals were to someday find your way back to each other, she allotted you all one day to spend some time all together. Nothing romantic or sexual - simply re-learning each other and discovering how you work together. The first few Thursdays had been borderline painful. You’d all met in a cafe for coffee and awkwardly sat around the table. Jimin would try to talk about funny things he saw on the internet or some anime he was watching in an attempt to kill the silence, while Yoongi usually seemed content to listen while he stared at you like a lost puppy. When it was obvious that something needed changing, your therapist suggested other locales. Places that would give you all a shared experience and something to break the ice. 

The spot that finally worked its magic on all of you was the cat cafe. On your first visit, it was obvious as soon as you all walked in that Jimin was in heaven. He cooed at and cuddled every single one that would let him. You’d never thought of Yoongi as much of a cat person and figured he would just lay around and nap somewhere while you and Jimin played. He did lay out eventually, but was soon joined by at least six cats that all decided he made a perfect bed. 

“Look, they recognize one of their own,” Jimin had giggled to you. 

It soon became a place of comfort for the three of you. Somewhere that seemed to make you all happy and comfortable enough to talk. You were all very careful not to make promises, as that’s not what these visits were about. They were about healing. About getting to know each other on a new deeper level without the pressure of romantic entanglements.

It wasn’t like you all weren’t still attracted to each other, obviously. There were still moments where you would be laughing and glance over at Yoongi only to find him piercing you with hooded eyes, biting his lip in the way that you knew from experience meant he was holding himself back from kissing you. Even Jimin would sometimes flip a switch and go from a giggling dork to running his hands through his hair and looking like sex personified as he stared you down.

Of course, it probably also didn’t help that - unless they were lying - neither of them had even touched each other like that in months. They claimed they were staying in separate bedrooms and didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize everyone’s healing. You mostly believed them because Jimin was always free of hickeys or other marks. Yoongi always left a mark. This made you feel both relieved and guilty. Relieved because that would mean if you decided to start over with each other, it would be from the beginning for everyone. You wouldn’t feel left behind. But you also felt guilty because it seemed like such a selfish thing to expect from them. To expect them to not fuck around when you weren’t even promising getting back together seemed messed up as hell. However, it was Jimin’s idea in the first place and Yoongi had completely agreed with it, so you supposed it was up to them if they wanted to continue that or not. It’s not like you’d know if they did do something since you didn’t live there anymore. 

After “Them” Thursdays was Friend Fridays. Once you began to talk to your therapist more, you realized that your life had pretty much revolved around Yoongi to the point where you hadn’t even maintained or started any friendships outside of the ones you met through him or work. Which wasn’t too bad in your mind, since that meant you had Jin and Namjoon as well as Jungkook and Taehyung, and they were the best friends anyone could ever ask for. However, your therapist recommended seeking out friends of your own that wouldn’t be thrown into the middle of a war should your relationship ever go south again. Friends that were just yours that would have things in common with you and that you could count on to be there for you. This was all easier said than done, as it was hard for adults to make friends outside of work. But you did your best, chatting up other people that you met through your dance classes or other activities. You had a tentative meetup on your next Friday with some girls you’d met at the park. Yoongi was going to leave Holly with you after work and you were going to meet them there and have a meetup with all of your dogs. It wasn’t bad for a first step, you thought. 

Sensual Saturdays was...well, pretty much how it sounded as well. It was your day to convince yourself that you were attractive and desirable. During your sessions, you’d apparently compared yourself to Jimin far too often. You often mentioned how much more beautiful you thought he was than yourself, how you wouldn’t be surprised for anyone to pick him over you. How compatible Yoongi and Jimin were in bed. So, in order to help you cease - or at least lessen - how often you talked down yourself and get you to view yourself in a new light, a day was set aside for you to work on precisely that. You would buy yourself lingerie and walk around in it at home until you were comfortable enough to actually begin to admire yourself in it. You bought a huge mirror for the back of your bedroom door and played with yourself in front of it, curiously watching your expressions as you imagined it was Yoongi’s fingers instead. It was definitely a work in progress and you weren’t sure you’d ever be considered on Jimin’s level realistically, but you were beginning to at least find it more believable when someone complimented you on your appearance. 

Silent Sundays was a day you took to recharge. You left your phone on silent, you kept the TV off, and you ignored everyone. You spent the day writing in the journal you had to keep for therapy, going over everything that happened that week and how you felt you had changed versus what you felt you still needed to work on. You’d also read or draw, sometimes write lyrics, maybe do some baking. It was usually on Sundays that you missed your little house the most, as you pictured a Silent Sunday spent there instead. You’d probably spend it outside working on the garden in the backyard. Holly would walk back and forth between you in the garden and Yoongi muttering curses as he built something on the patio. Jimin would probably come outside to bring you both drinks and peck you on the cheek before he rushed back inside to watch his show, not wanting to stay out in the sun too long. It was such a believable scenario and you could see it so clearly that your chest ached with longing. 

The fact that Jimin was always right there whenever you pictured going home wasn’t lost on you, either. You were beginning to accept fully that somewhere along the line you had dropped your wall of bitterness long enough for him to charm his way through and you were as whipped for him as everyone else was. For every thought you had of Yoongi, one of Jimin followed soon after. You’d imagine Yoongi’s sexy smirk and intense eyes, then Jimin’s lips and strong muscles. You’d think of Yoongi’s quiet thoughtfulness and warm heart, then Jimin’s kindness and cheerful energy.

Whenever you thought of home, you thought of them.

A decision would have to be made soon, but you were pretty sure it was already made in your heart. However, in fairness to yourself, you were going to do one last thing. Try to move on

* 

Jung Hoseok was an absolutely gorgeous man. He was tall and lanky, but with the toned muscles you were used to seeing on dancers. And his smile was dangerous - one moment it was brighter than the sun with adorable dimples, the next it was a smirk lethal enough to melt anyone.  

You had noticed him around the company before, but you’d never really talked to him. He was good friends with Taehyung and Jungkook, and Jin always spoke fondly of him, but back then you were just so wrapped up in Yoongi that only him and those immediately close to him gained your interest. You were a little disappointed you’d never talked to him sooner. 

He was bright and loud and quite possibly the most fun you’d ever had on a date. He was proud and passionate about his work, loved his family and friends, and was absolutely perfect. And yet everything he did, you compared to ‘them.’ Or wondered what they would think. Things like, “Jimin must love this guy.” or “Yoongi would be wishing he would choke on a bread roll just for a moment of quiet.” 

All throughout dinner you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t where you belonged and that he would never be the one. But he was so nice and kept you laughing with his hilariously animated stories that you couldn’t just bail. Instead, you stayed and ordered another glass of wine and giggled as he continued entertaining you. 

An hour later you’re both standing outside of the restaurant making your goodbyes in front of your taxi when his gaze suddenly changes from friendly to smoldering. His eyes rake you from top to bottom and you remember that today was Sensual Saturday. You’d certainly dressed the part. He couldn’t see all the black lace lingerie you had on underneath your red sheath dress, but you’d unquestionably left little to the imagination.  

“So, uh, it’s really unusual for me to ask on a first date, but...maybe we could take this to my place? If you want? It’s just...you are so fucking beautiful and sweet and totally too good to be true. I’ll even throw in breakfast, although I’m a shitty cook. But I’d make it up to you for dinner.” 

“Wow. You have all day tomorrow planned too, huh?” You joke nervously. The two and a half cups of wine you’d had with dinner were settled comfortably in your tummy, warming you in places that made you think that just maybe you could go through with this. You weren’t blind - he was fucking hot as hell - but the thought of being with anyone other than Yoongi, or even Jimin, was terrifying. But your new motto of trying to do things that scare you, along with this being ‘Sensual Saturday’, led you to believe that you really needed to do this. 

“Yeah, kinda pictured a day spent in bed, watching some movies, ordering Chinese...you can tell me to fuck off if you don’t want to or you want to wait. I won’t be offended,” he shrugs, his little grin deepening a dimple. 

You sigh and grab his hand, leading him towards the taxi. “Tell him your address.” 

His eyes widen like he can’t believe his luck and he stutters out his address to the driver. He leans back and buckles in before tentatively reaching over to grab your hand. It’s nice and warm, with pretty fingers. But even then you’re comparing his hands with Yoongi’s beautifully vein-laced ones. 

The building you’re led to is a nice apartment complex - quite a bit nicer than the month-to-month one you’re renting but not fancy enough to make you feel out of place. As he excitedly pulls you into the elevator and onto his floor, you realize the light buzz of alcohol that was clouding your thoughts was slowly easing away, leaving the light thrum of anxiety and discomfort room to grow. 

It definitely wasn’t him. He was sweet and funny and super, super hot - did you mention he was hot? He just wasn’t ‘them.’ 

You steeled yourself, however, because you owed yourself this. You owed yourself a chance to move on, to experience someone else. Surely this feeling would dissipate once you, you know, got going. People did this stuff all the time, why couldn’t you? 

His apartment was nicer than you expected. Clean and bright, with cute little accents here and there that spoke of his colorful personality. It even smelled amazing, which seemed odd for a bachelor pad. Like citrus and vanilla. 

Hoseok knelt down and helped you out of your heels before standing up to take off his blazer. 

“You need a drink or anything?” 

You shake your head, wanting to get started before you can talk yourself out of it. He smirks, obviously thinking you’re just nervously eager for him. 

He walks up and cups your jaw, tilting your face up. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, closing your eyes as he moves closer. 

It’s a nice kiss. Slow and sensual, barely any tongue, and he strokes his thumb across your cheek the whole time. Any other person would feel excited and be touched with how sweet it was. It was like he was silently promising this wasn’t just sex for him. It only served to make you feel guiltier that you weren’t being totally honest with him. 

When he pulls away, his eyes seem a little dazed as he escorts you to his room. Again, nothing to complain about there. The room is nice and clean, smells good, has a few cute Snoopy stuff animals laying around. He’s gentle leading you in and maneuvering you to sit on the bed.  

His breath is shuddering as he slowly leans in to kiss your jaw and work his way down. You can feel a slight twinge of interest since your neck is one of your weak spots, but it dies down again once the expect bite never came. Yoongi was a biter and always left marks that you proudly wore, no matter how many people told you it was tacky. Your neck and chest were his favorite places to do it, so when Hoseok simply traveled around leaving light kisses and maybe a lick or two, you were nearly disappointed. Also slightly relieved because what if the boys saw a mark on you? You could nearly see Jimin’s eyes tearing up now. 

Hoseok inhales and moans, making you jump a little because you’d nearly forgotten about him you’d been so stuck in your own mind. His hand slowly slides down and up, reaching under your dress. His hands are nice enough, but they don’t have the expert feel of Yoongi’s fingers knowing your body like the back of his hand. Or even Jimin’s - thicker and earnest to learn and please. 

You cringe when he slips into your panties because you know he’s going to feel you’re as dry as a desert down there. 

Sure enough, he pauses and his shoulders slump. He slides his hand out and peeks up at you. You can tell he’s forcing himself to smile, but his eyes are soft with understanding. 

“I’m not doing it for you, am I?” 

You rush to explain. “Oh, God...it’s not you. It’s so not you. You are unbelievably hot and funny, just so sexy and I really wish I could get out of my head, but...”

“Yoongi and Jimin, right?” You nod and he sighs, sitting up on the bed next to you. “Jin hyung told me not to get my hopes up, but you are so pretty and sweet that I think I lost my head there a little bit.” 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, turning to look down at the floor. 

“Nah, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t make you feel pressured or like you had to come here with me.” 

“No, of course not. I thought if I just tried I could...with you. You are amazing.” 

Hoseok sighs and smiles sadly, twisting your heart. If you were another you, not so stuck on ‘them’, you’d grab this man up in a heartbeat. 

He chuckles and helps you up. “Fine, but let them know if they fuck up again I’m coming for you.”

You blush and let him lead you out of the room. “Thank you, Hoseok. If it’s not too awkward, I’d like to be friends. Not like the bullshit line people say when they really don’t mean it, but really friends. You can hang out with us in the cafeteria at work on Monday if you want.” 

He looks surprised for a split second before the tension in his face melts and he smiles genuinely at you. 

“You know what? I might just take you up on that.” 

“Okay. Thanks, Hoseok. And I’m sorry, again.” 

“It’s all good. You can still stay the night if you want? I have an extra room and I promise no funny business unless you ask for it.” 

You giggle and slide into your heels. 

“No, thanks though. I’m gonna...” 

“Yeah,” he nods in understanding. “Be careful.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you.” 

You escape to the elevator quickly, ordering a cab on your phone. When you’re done, you lean your head against the wall and sigh. Honestly, you’re not sure if you’re doing the right thing. Hoseok was incredible and had so much potential, but you’re you and you have to do what’s right for yourself. And given how much you can’t stop thinking of two certain people, your path is clear. 

*

The taxi pulls up to the familiar little house and you quickly slide out after paying and just stand there, looking at it. 

Home. 

It still looks the same. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it still looked like home. Yoongi still kept up the yard, though your flowers looked like they might be struggling a little bit. He’d forgotten to put his basketball away again since it was just sitting there in the driveway waiting to get run over. Jimin must have been sitting on the porch reading earlier because one of his mangas was on the wicker table. 

You take a few steps closer, amazed at how your chest felt lighter with each one. As soon as you walk up one of the stairs you can hear Holly at the door, scratching a little and whining. 

“Yah, you mongrel. What’s your problem? You too good for the doggy door in the back now?” 

You grin shakily as Yoongi’s complaining filters through the door. Once you’re close enough to hover your hand over the door you can hear Yoongi shuffling closer to the door. Your heart is pounding and you can feel your eyes filling up and you fight to contain yourself. You knock twice. 

Yoongi cracks open the door, his confused expression morphing into disbelief once he sees you. 

“Hi,” you say breathily. 

He gulps and quietly responds, “Hey.” Holly happily hops all over the place and does circles to try and get your attention. You smile at him then turn back to Yoongi. 

You both are quiet for a moment, looking each other over. His eyes roam over your outfit is wide-eyed wonder. 

Jimin wanders in fresh from the shower, running a towel over his head still. 

“Who is coming by this late?” 

You poke your head to the side and wave a little. 

“Hey, Jimin.” 

“Noona?” He smiles happily, rushing over to join Yoongi at the door. “You look incredible. What’s going on?” 

Yoongi already knows. You can see it in the way his shoulders have relaxed like someone just lifted the weight of the world off of them. A single tear travels down his cheek as he smiles softly at you. 

“We have to keep going to counseling. I’m not going to go back to the way things were. We are going to be better than that. We are going to communicate and talk everything through. If I’m the one not talking about something I should, call me out on it. This is going to be equal and no one is going to feel left out.” Yoongi nods enthusiastically and reaches out a hand that you eagerly grasp. 

Jimin gasps as he catches on. 

“Noona, you’re back?” 

“I’m all in. With both of you, if you still want me.” 

You hold your free hand out to him and his smile grows bright as he accepts it and tugs you inside the house before enveloping you in a hug. Yoongi shuts the door and takes Jimin’s place when the other pulls back. 

He cups your jaw and his face comes so close you can see his lip trembling with barely contained emotion. He sighs and lays his forehead against yours. 

“Welcome home, Princess.” 

Jimin wraps his arms around you both from the side, placing a quick peck on both of your cheeks. You blush and cuddle further into Yoongi’s hold, feeling right for the first time in a very long time. 

You know it’s not perfect yet and you all still have a lot to work on and figure out, but for now, this is perfect. 

Because home was ‘Them.’