#but don’t worry!!! they’ll spring a surprise visit on you!!! after she’s just spent weeks in a care center and the hospital!!!

[lavender-femme]

So so so fucking stressed that I hung up the phone on my mom because I can’t fucking do this shit anymore. It’s putting my brain right back in March and you know where I *really* don’t want to fucking be???? March 2022. Put me any fucking where else but there thanks.

[sparring-hyena]

mac and cheese with ketchup.

because the recent chapter was... something, i felt like i had to write this piece before i write anything else. i’ll be addressing what happened in the chapter, so a trigger warning for a brief mention of harassment does apply.

-

it’s after midnight when AJ’s phone pings. it’s Zoey checking in. asking if she’s safe and if she wants some company. AJ reaches for her phone and types a quick response out.

[12:24am] AJ: i’m fine. just felt like being alone for a bit. don’t wait up.

[12:24am] Zoey: okay. be safe. call if you need to.

[12:24am] AJ: i will. thanks.

AJ tosses her phone back onto the table, sinking back in the booth, and tipping her head back. she lets her eyes fall closed and for the first time in since everything happened, actually lets her mind wander.

she hates the image that her mind decides to conjure up. that god-awful shrine in the back of Benji’s closet. it makes her shudder. but still. she keeps her eyes closed. forces herself to think about it. to remember it. because maybe if she thinks about it, it won’t bother her as much.

“refill, love?” a voice, a warm and older voice, says.

AJ snaps her eyes open, heart thumping against her rib cage. she takes a moment to refocus her attention. remind herself of where she is: some 24 hour diner with pale yellow walls, dim lights, and tattered grey booths lining the walls.

“what?” AJ says, shaking her head free of the image.

“refill?” the woman says again, nodding to the empty mug, still patient and with a warm smile that reminds AJ so much of her mother back home.

“oh, uh, yes, please.”

the woman fills AJ’s mug and looks at AJ a lot like a mother would look at their daughter. “you okay?”

AJ forces a smile. it doesn’t quiet reach her eyes. “just tired. had a busy few days.”

the woman nods, doesn’t seem to believe it, but doesn’t push for answers. “get you anything to eat?”

AJ’s about to decline. but then she has an image of home. an image of late nights spent in the kitchen with her sister where they’d make some of that box mac and cheese after a particularly shitty day. “do you have mac and cheese?”

“sure do.”

“could i just have a bowl of that, please?”

“of course.” the woman writes the order down and disappears into the kitchen.

it’s probably ten minutes later that a warm bowl of mac and cheese is placed down in front of AJ. and normally she’s not one to add ketchup to her mac and cheese, but her sister is, and right now, AJ misses her sister. so she pours some ketchup over the mac and cheese, and even though it kinda ruins the meal for her, she feels a little less alone.

she pays the bill not long later, leaves a generous tip on the table, and steps out onto the dark and cold street. a quick check of her phone tells her it’s getting closer to one o’clock. she should really go back to her dorm and try get some sleep. she’s got a class tomorrow. but she can’t. she can’t bring herself to walk back onto that campus.

she’s about to start walking. maybe try find a bar she can sit at for a bit. but just in her peripheral vision she sees someone. Poppy.

AJ sighs. of course she’d run into Poppy.

they lock eyes for a moment. stand in the orange glow of the street light. and then AJ just turns and leaves. she walks down the street and buries her hands deep her in pockets to fight off the chill that’s starting to set in.

“AJ, wait,” Poppy calls out, and she even jogs to catch up.

“what?” AJ snaps when Poppy catches up. “can’t we just pretend that we didn’t see each other?”

“i just...” Poppy sighs. “i’m sorry.”

and that... AJ hadn’t been expecting that.

“i shouldn’t have said that you made it up. that you’d lied about what he did. and all the other stuff i did too. that was cruel and completely uncalled for.”

“well... thanks?”

and Poppy actually looks surprised, maybe a little confused and... offended?

“that’s it?” Poppy says.

AJ shrugs. “yeah? what’d you expect me to say?”

“more.”

“you want ‘more’?” it’s AJ’s turn to look offended. “you were horrible to me! i don’t care if you want ‘more’. that’s all i can give right now.”

“i apologised,” Poppy says, her tone cold.

“so?”

“i don’t apologise.”

“well, i think you really need to figure out why that is before you start asking for forgiveness.”

they stand in the silence for a moment. a cab whooshes past and AJ can see a few people stumble out of a bar a few blocks up.

“for what it’s worth,” AJ says, “i’m sorry too. for everything i did to you. but i think it might be a good idea if we stay away from each other for a bit. you’ve got stuff you need to figure out and i just... i think i need a break from everything for a while. so, thanks for the invite to your party, but i’m not going.”

and then AJ leaves.

the weeks drift by and AJ keeps mostly to herself. she only really leaves her dorm for class, to pick up food, and the occasional dinner out when Zoey suggests they get off campus for a bit. she goes back to the dinner a few times. always by herself and always to eat a bowl of mac and cheese with ketchup. she watches movies with Zoey even though they both have a mountain of work to do. it’s nice. it makes remembering what happened with Benji a little easier.

“i think i’m ready,” AJ says late one night, movie credits rolling on the screen.

“ready?” Zoey says, looking up from her phone.

“to go out.”

a hesitant smile begins to bloom across Zoey’s face. “are you sure? because there’s not rush.”

“yeah. i think it’s time. and besides, i kinda miss it.”

and then that hesitant smile turns into a real smile and Zoey’s talking so fast AJ’s having a little trouble keeping up. she does catch something about a party the football boys are throwing at the end of the week.

Friday comes and they go to the party. it’s fun and easy and AJ really loves that no one’s mentioning that this is the first time she’s been out since Benji. she dances, talks, laughs, plays some games with everyone, and has something to drink too.

Poppy’s there too, AJ realises about half-way through the night. they stare at each other from across the backyard. they don’t say anything. simply offering a polite nod before they both go back to doing what they were doing.

after that Friday night, AJ starts easing back into her old routine. she still sees Poppy a few times a week around campus, but neither of them offer more than a simple nod.

it’s a few weeks later when, along with the polite nod, AJ offers Poppy a genuine smile when they see each other across the quad. a smile which Poppy returns with one of her own.

the months drift by. winter comes and goes, and now they’re about half-way through their spring quarter. AJ’s okay now. she still has days where the memories are too much, but she knows how to deal with days like those.

she still visits that diner with the pale yellow walls, dim lights, and tattered grey booths. enjoys a bowl of mac and cheese with ketchup each time she visits because it makes her think of home. of her sister. and even though she goes to the diner to be alone and think. she needs some kind of reminder that she’s not completely alone in this world.

she’s at another party now. can’t quiet remember the reason the hosts decided to have it. maybe just for the hell of it. that seems like reason enough.

it’s the end of the night and AJ’s in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and munching away at the bag of chips she found in a cupboard. they’re a little stale, but she’s a little drunk, so she doesn’t really care.

then Poppy walks into the kitchen, red solo cup in hand, and they both freeze in place.

“hey,” AJ says, suddenly feeling a lot more sober.

“hi,” Poppy says.

“fun night?”

Poppy shrugs. “it’s okay. you?”

“it’s good.” AJ clicks her tongue, figures they need something to fill the silence. “want some?” she offers the bag of chips to Poppy.

“no thank you.”

AJ nods and then jumps down from the counter. “well, i’ll let you get back to it.” she turns to leave but stops when Poppy speaks.

“i figured it out.”

“what?” AJ turns back to face her and moves a little bit closer.

“why i don’t apologise. there are a few reasons, but i think the main one is that i don’t want to be seen as weak. like, if i admit that i’m wrong or concede to someone, then they’ll walk all over me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“what are the other reasons?”

“i’m stubborn.”

“i could have told you that.”

they both smile at that, because they both know what she’s talking about. that night they shared in Poppy’s room all those months ago, and Poppy had insisted on trying those beauty products on AJ.

“and,” Poppy says after a moment, suddenly serious, “i also don’t want to be less than perfect. i can’t be less than perfect. my parents, they’re...” she trails off, hopes that AJ can fill in the blank for herself.

“oh.” AJ swallows and wrings her fingers together. “do you wanna talk about it?”

Poppy shakes her head. “i don’t think here” —she gestures widely to the party— “is a good spot for that.”

“right.”

“but maybe some other time? when we haven’t been drinking?” Poppy says, her voice hesitant.

“yeah.”

then they both offer each other shy smiles as they go their separate ways.

they start to talk after that though. nothing serious. just small trivial stuff. everyone else on campus seems to realises that they’re no longer at each other’s throats, but aside from a few whispered comments, no one really makes a big deal about it.

AJ likes that.

it’s towards the end of the semester when AJ lays awake in bed one night, drumming her fingers against her stomach, and watching the shifting pattern of the moonlight against the ceiling. she makes a split second decision and texts Poppy. sends her an address and tells her to meet her there.

AJ climbs out of bed and pulls on some clothes before slipping out from her dorm quietly so she doesn’t wake Zoey.

she sees Poppy standing under the orange glow of a street light as soon as she turns onto the block.

“is everything okay?” Poppy says, sounding concerned and worried for her friend as AJ jogs up to her. “why’d you want to meet here?”

AJ doesn’t say anything. just smiles and takes Poppy’s hand in her own as she pulls her into the diner with the pale yellow walls, dim lighting, and tattered grey booths.

“evening, AJ,” the woman says, offering one of those warm maternal smiles.

“hi, Cath,” AJ says as she leads Poppy to her favourite booth.

it’s a few minutes later, once Poppy and AJ are both seated across from each other, that Cath comes up to their table. AJ orders her regular and Poppy says she’ll just have whatever AJ’s having.

“why did you bring me here?” Poppy says once they’re alone again.

“i wanted to share it with you.”

Poppy leans forward a little. “is that the only reason?”

she’s fishing for answers. AJ knows that. what they have has always felt a little more. more than friends. more than casual hookup buddies.

“no.” AJ says. “can we talk about that later though? i really want to just have a simple and easy meal with you here.”

“okay.”

Cath comes back then. two bowls of mac and cheese in hand and a bottle of ketchup held under her arm. “enjoy, lovelies.”

Poppy eyes the food and then watches with abject horror as AJ adds ketchup to her mac and cheese.

“what?” AJ looks up at Poppy, as though she’s completely unaware of the wrong she’s doing.

“why?”

“why what?”

Poppy nods to the ketchup bottle in AJ’s right hand.

“i know it seems kinda weird, but it’s good. really.”

“i doubt that.”

“just try some.”

“no.”

“please.”

Poppy concedes and takes a forkful of food from AJ’s bowl. and it’s... good. surprisingly good actually.

“well?” AJ smiles, hopeful.

“i like it.”

and then AJ’s beaming.

they talk a little bit while they eat. but mostly, AJ’s just happy to eat in silence, and enjoy that Poppy is sitting across from her, eating mac and cheese with ketchup, in the diner with the pale yellow walls, dim lighting, and tattered grey booths.

[cupcakemolotov]

Feel Like Home

Had a really strange dream last night and @goldcaught talked me into giving it some shape and writing this out.  Just a quick little thing, will expand on it if I have time/the muse for it. Not really a huge number of warnings for this one. Does reference past potential sex but no details. Just magical shenanigans and Bonnie and Caroline being besties.

Caroline bit her lip, studying Bonnie’ face. Her best friend rarely wore such a worried expression anymore, but in this case she couldn’t blame her. In less than forty-eight hours, she’d dropped whatever her witchy business had been, gotten a cat sitter, and hauled butt to New York City. 

And all because Caroline had called her with an SOS. 

Fingers curling into her palms, she glanced around the high rise apartment they were currently camped out in. The space was gorgeous, all warm wood and wide open windows with lush furniture that invited you to linger. The floor was saved from being chilly thanks to a collection of gorgeous rugs, the art work on the walls tasteful and heart-breakingly gorgeous. The bathroom had been copy/pasted directly from her dreams and the tub was gorgeous and everything she wanted in life. 

It was an apartment that she coveted, and one that was millions and millions of dollars outside of her price range. Just the view of New York City alone was a multi-million dollar addition. But her favorite fall jacket had been hanging in the closet, she’d found her awesome, weekend date to-go bag on the side of the bed. It had included a change of clothes and kick ass underwear. She felt safe here, welcome, and had absolutely no memory of how she’d gotten here or whose cologne lingered on the sheets.

“Okay,” Bonnie said finally, rubbing the wrinkle line between her eyebrows tiredly. “I’m really, really glad you called.”

Caroline eyed her doubtfully. “You don’t look happy.”

Bonnie waved her hand. “That’s not about you. Not entirely, at least.”

“Well, I’m not sure who else I’m going to call when I wake up in the middle of supernatural shenanigans, but I’m glad I called you too.” Taking a deep breath, Caroline looked at her beseechingly and tried not to panic. “How did I get here? I couldn’t find any texts explaining and we both know I'm a serial texter. How did I not send you fifty messages about my underwear choices for my date? My shoes? My dress? There isn’t a single hair check selfie on my phone, Bon. That’s impossible. I don’t just let someone talk me into visiting New York without at least a pro/con list two pages long.”

“Oh, I am aware,” Bonnie muttered. Running a hand down her face, she grimaced. “You can look at my phone for evidence later. But, Caroline. You’ve lived in New York for six months. You have a super cute closet for an apartment. I have pictures of that to prove it.”

“I…” her words died at the sincerity on Bonnie’s face. Blowing out a breath, because Bonnie Bennett would never lie about something like this, she cast her thoughts back and slowly nodded, relief heady. “Okay. Yeah. This spring. I remember packing my things in my rental and mom looking both relieved and tired.”

“Yeah, she’s wanted you to spread your wings for a few years. After the bout with cancer, you were being stubborn.” A lifted brow. “It was such a surprise. You. Being stubborn.”

Caroline gave her a disapproving look. “Do you have to say that like it's a bad thing?”

A small smile touched the edge of Bonnie’s mouth. “I guess it depends on what you are being stubborn about. Do you remember that big fancy PR party you were being forced to go to about six week ago?”

“No,” the word was said with great reluctance. “I feel like I should though.”

“Oh, you definitely should.” Bonnie drawled. “I didn’t attend and I know a great deal more about it than I would like. Clothes, shoes, departmental involvement and the dick from accounting who spends way too much time looking at your ass. Your boss, who insisted you go because she keeps thinking if she plays nice you’ll one day introduce her to your ex-werewolf boyfriend.”

Caroline did not want to talk about Tyler. “Your point, Bon?”

“You don’t remember Klaus.”

The name tugged something in her chest, a sense of awareness she couldn’t name, and Caroline frowned in concentration. “Who is Klaus?”

“The Black Dragon of New York.” At Caroline’s blank expression Bonnie sighed heavily. “Well, that confirms some of it at least.”

“Bonnie…”

“You moved to New York six months ago with a job offer for a Public Relations firm that specializes in supernatural reputations.” Her lips twisted in something like an amused grimace. “Your… history with witches and werewolves left you overqualified for the entry level position, as did your original internship in Chicago.”

Caroline pursed her lips. “By overqualified, that better be a comment on my personal awesomeness and not that they hired me because I dated a werewolf. That would have annoyed me. Why didn’t I remember that? I should have remembered that.”

“Because you don’t remember Klaus.”

Which made absolutely no sense to Caroline.

“Do I need to open wine? There was quite a collection that I am going to have no qualms drinking if that would absolutely help me understand the words you are saying.” Caroline threw her arms open wide. “I’m sure whoever lives here can afford it.”

“Spirits, if I thought it would help, I’d have brought tequila.” Bonnie looked heavenward and slouched backwards, something like gallows humor darkening her face. “Klaus Mikaelson is a dragon. A black dragon, specifically. He has been on top of the food chain for centuries, Caroline. He picked New York as his seat of power this century because he was bored in Europe. When he got here, he ate half the witch council, flattened three werewolf tribes, and casually made alliances with the necromages as if they were cute but annoying pets. He owns New York. He rules North America with a very, very short temper. Hell, I think he built this tower to his exact specifications because he now lives exactly one foot higher than every other building in New York. You would not believe how that man likes to lord over people.”

Caroline tried to recall the differences in dragon color and why that might be important and came up blank. “You’d think I’d know who he was with my job description,” she said faintly. “That seems like the kind of detail I would pick up on. And did you say this tower?”

Was there a floor above her? She hadn’t really spent a lot of time looking out the windows. She should have located the elevator and checked to see if it listed the number of floors. Figure out which one she was on. Something to do later then. 

“This tower. But more importantly, you’d probably have remembered that you tossed your drink in his face six weeks ago at said PR Party.” Bonnie’s expression grew even more pained. “I’m told the flowers he sent you after that were very nice.”

Caroline tried to suck in air. “I did what now?”

Bonnie nodded, motioning with her hand towards the bedroom. “Two days ago, you went on what I’m pretty sure was your third date. And you apparently stayed over.”

Eyes widening comically, Caroline glanced around the apartment again, trying to comprehend was she was seeing with new eyes. “Bonnie Bennett, I would remember fucking a dragon.”

Bonnie snorted, slapping a hand over her mouth as she visibly struggled not to laugh. Her shoulders shook, breath escaping in faint, choking noises. 

“This is not funny,” Caroline rasped, launching to her feet. Meeting her best friends watering eyes, she waved her hands dramatically around them. “You are telling me that I have been sleeping in Klaus Mikaelson’s bed for at least two days? And no one has been here to chuck me out? He hasn’t asked me to leave? Did he go on vacation? If he bailed on me like that and didn’t even so much as leave a note, I don’t care how hot he is, that was probably our last date.” Her eyes narrowed. “I even packed my cutest underwear. He did not deserve them.”

“You can keep the underwear thing to yourself,” Bonnie said hastily, voice still trembling with laughter. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “And to answer your question, no one knows where he is. That’s the problem. Forty-eight hours ago, the witch council announced they had successfully overthrown his hold on the city. Two hours later, you called me and said you couldn’t remember where you were or how you got here, but you had a really strong feeling that you shouldn’t leave.”

Caroline sat back down slowly. “What does that mean?”

Bonnie shook her head. “I don’t know. But what I do know isn’t… great.”

Caroline tried to smile. “That’s not really comforting.”

Bonnie ignored her. 

“Klaus brought you back here, to his… for lack of better word, lair. You probably had sex.” Bonnie’s nose wrinkled, but she kept going. “Dragons are possessive at best, Caroline. I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but it took him over a month to sweet talk you into a date and yet you are keyed heavily enough into his wards that you were able to invite me, a witch, into his home without either of us getting fried.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. You also feel safe enough here that you didn’t bolt home in a walk-of-shame after waking up alone and suffering from amnesia. ” Her eyes were solemn, not a hint of tease on her face. “Whatever spell was used, it has wiped Klaus from your memory and life so thoroughly you don’t have so much as a text or picture linking back to him. So either you were caught up in the crossfire of the spell that took him out or the entirety of New York has also forgotten him. And none of those options are good ones.”

Caroline swallowed past her suddenly very dry mouth. “What does that mean?”

“I have no idea,” Bonnie said with a sigh. “But his magic is here, you're here. Which means he is alive and we are probably going to have to find him. And we will have to be careful, because if anyone from the council realizes that you’re probably the key to finding him, they’ll try to kill us. I’m already not super popular with some of the older factions, I cannot see this helping matters.”

“What, wait?” Caroline said up straight. “Why do we have to find him? Aren’t there other people who can do that? Didn’t you just say he rules this city? Surely he has like, minions or something that can do the heavy lifting?”

“If only.” Bonnie nodded towards her wrist. “But why us? Because you’re wearing his magic, Care. And while I definitely do not approve of dating a dragon, no matter what I think about it, there is no way his magic would cling to you if you hadn’t agreed to it. Probably. Which means when you aren’t dealing with a weird jedi mind wipe, you care about him. For some reason. And the Caroline I know doesn’t leave people behind.”

Caroline glanced down at her wrist and swallowed hard. Now that Bonnie had pointed it out, she could see the gold shimmer of a mark she couldn’t decipher beneath the familiar blue swallow on her right wrist. That mark felt… right. Familiar, as if she should have known it was there the entire time. Blowing out a breath, she glanced back at Bonnie’s unhappy face and grimaced. 

“I bet we can find tequila if we look hard enough.”

[stubbedbakutoes]

Nervous Wreck

Shoto overwhelms (y/n) with his loving words on a ride to visit his family.

pairing: Todoroki x fem reader

word count: 1k+

genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff

masterlist

Waking up on a weekend, you’d expect a calm and collected (y/n) silently making her own tea and enjoying the beautifully intricate fullness of the morning silence with her back against her boyfriend Shoto’s front, unbothered by all the negativity of the outside world – not today.

Because this particular Saturday may end up being low-key uplifting or deadass the worst day of her life. She’ll be paying a quick visit at Shoto’s family home for the first time; hence her getting herself so worked out to the point where she’s tugging at her hair in a matter that’s got to genuinely hurt. She doesn’t let her boyfriend see though; she reckons her nervousness will subside on its own, until twenty minutes later when they’re on the road and Todoroki’s driving.

“I can do this.” She exclaims out of the blue. She doesn’t realize she had said it out loud until she hears her boyfriend’s giggle beside her. “Love, stop worrying!”

“Sorry, baby. I just really want to make a good impression, you feel me?”

“Okay, first of all; you have nothing to worry about, my mum loves everyone.” He clarifies, placing a gentle hand on her thigh. “And second; my parents have always said they don’t care who I date- as long as I believe that she’s truly it for me.”

“You do, don’t you?”

“Without a doubt, (y/n), so cut yourself some slack. You’re doing better than you think.”

They fall into a comfortable, calm silence again and Todoroki speculates she’s finally assured that his loved ones don’t bite until her panicked voice fills his ears. “But what if they think I’m only here for the money and the fame?”

He leans toward her and smooths his thumb over her forehead, pressing out the lines that have set in there when the car came to a halt because of the traffic. “’S gonna be fine. They’re gonna love you, everything about you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do, too. Look, I would always go for someone who could get on with my parents. It’s important to me that my family likes you too, maybe not immediately, but then I know they’ll really get to like you because your personality is so attractive.”

(y/n)’s stunned at how easily just a few touches and some words from him can put her mind at ease. “Yeah?”

He laughs, taking his eyes off the road for a brief second to look at her. “You’re too good to resist.”

(y/n) can’t help smiling. She kind of knows in the back of her mind that there’s no such thing as a smooth ride and that she’d feel absolutely gutted the second she steps foot in Shoto’s family home, but she has a feeling that she’d be okay – as long as he would hold her hand under the table

//

“Should I do a no make-up look or go for something cakey? Would she --” Rei cuts herself off with a gasp when some thought hits her. “Oh no — I forgot to shave my legs!”

Todoroki’s mother Rei has been up for hours, since long before her morning alarm went off, doing some housework around the house; wiping, dusting, mopping, vacuuming – you name it. When her daughter Fuyumi made plans to have Shoto and (y/n) over for lunch, her heart leaped in her chest, just as it had every time the thought of today would slip into her mind since the two confirmed their relationship three weeks ago.

“Okaasann, stop getting yourself so worked up.” Fuyumi props up on the edge of the counter near the box of beauty products Rei’s leafing through. “How long have you been up?”

“Just couldn’t bear inviting guests over in a messy home.”

“Something tells me it isn’t just the house you’re stressing over. You’ve spent the whole morning primping in front of the mirror.” Fuyumi utters when she notices her mother pull out a pearl perfecting mask and set it down next to a charcoal nose strip pack.

“Well, this is how I unwind after basically spring-cleaning.”

“Whatever you say, Okaasann.” Fuyumi taunts when her mother pulls out a hair mask, both knowing full well that she could barely stand sitting still for 10 minutes, much less thirty. “But hear me out on this, from the texts (y/n) and I exchanged yesterday, I’m sure she isn’t breaking out in a cold sweat, so why should you?”

Meanwhile, (y/n) extends her hand up to the doorbell and quickly brings it back to her side before she could actually ring it. She’s about to go off on a spiel about every worry running through her head right now when Shoto slides his lips gently over hers in a kiss that she can sense in every nerve, relieving her with all of the poise he has. (y/n) lets out a deep breath before bringing her hand up to the doorbell again and rings it before taking a step back.

The sound echoes around the house deafeningly, making Rei double over and away from her mother’s grasp as she looks at her still bare face in the mirror. “It’s a no make-up look, then.”

//

“See? Even Fuyumi says so!”

“Oneesama, you’ve only read the first chapter!” Shoto whines with a smile playing on his lips. “Maybe the first few pages were garbage, but overall, it’s an awesome book.”

“It was horrible way up to the end, no one can change my mind.”

“(y/n)’s right Shoto, sorry.”

Rei chuckles on her arrival to a heated discussion in the living room as she works on clipping her earrings in. “It was the worst, yeah.”

“Todoroki-san!” (y/n) instinctively says on the first time seeing her. “Hi, how’s your day going?”

“It’s been wonderful.” (y/n) smiles at this and leans forward to peck Rei’s cheeks as a friendly greeting. Shoto follows, mumbling an “Okaasann, I'm home!” before wrapping his long and toned arms around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest.

“Alright Shoto, enough of this sappy stuff, I wanna show my future sister-in-law books on my shelves that are actually good.”

“I like the sound of that.” 

She nudges her elbow with (y/n)’s who is surprised at how comfortable this feels. She expected to be on edge the whole time instead feels as if Rei’s known her longer than she’s been Shoto's mother. (a/n: i like over exaggerating things lmao.) The same goes with Fuyumi who gave her a very warm and enthusiastic welcome.

Definitely would be hella honored to have them as in-laws.

[imagine-loki]

The Arrangement

TITLE: The Arrangement CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 9 AUTHOR: the-resal10 ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being in an arranged marriage with Loki. You aren’t too unhappy about it, but he is and is at times rude to you. You two argue and bicker a lot before you both begin to fall in love. 

Imagine you are marrying Loki. It was an arranged marriage and you are not too happy about it. Loki is quite happy as he has always secretly liked you. But he sees how unhappy you are and plays along. RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:

Chapter 9: Butterflies

“Hello.” Loki greeted with a smile as he looked around, “Thank you for having us here. We apologize for my brother, Thor and his wife, Josephine’s absence today. There was an urgent matter that needed their attention, but I can assure you that both are doing well. My wife, Rosalind and I have taken their place instead.”

Loki continued his speech as Rosalind began to zone out. After a minute or two the crowd broke into an applause, Loki finished his speech. She joined the crowd and clapped, watching as Loki returned to her side with a smile that she didn’t return.

The couple walked together through Vanaheim’s annual festival. They spoke with the people of Vanaheim, all were happy to see the two enjoying themselves in the festivities.

As the sun began to set, the two met with Josephine’s father, thanking him for having them and promising they’d tell Josephine and Thor to visit whenever they were free. With that, they were brought back to Asgard by Heimdall.

Their horses were waiting for them on the rainbow bridge. They mounted them then slowly made their way back to the palace. After minutes of silence, Loki decided to start a conversation.

“Did you enjoy the festival today?”

“Yes.” She answered plainly.

“Is something wrong? You’ve been quiet all day.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You haven’t been yourself all day, Rosalind.”

“You’ve only known me for four months, you know nothing about me.” she snapped back.

“Why are you acting like this? Did I do something?”

She looked at him before gently kicking her heels against her horse’s side, quicken her pace. Loki watched as she raced back to the palace without him.

X

Thor and Loki decided to spend the day together. The next morning, the two went hunting alone, only bringing down birds, nothing big. It didn’t matter to them as long as they got to spend some time with each other.

After hours of finding the same thing, they led their horses to a stream, allowing them to drink. Loki pulled out two apples from his bag and tossed one to Thor, who caught it and took a bite out of it.

Loki pulled out his knife, cutting off pieces of the apple and feeding them to his horse, while taking a few bites out of the fruit as well. His horse nudged him with his muzzle for more of the delicious fruit, making the Princes laugh.

After some time, Loki and Thor sat on the grass, next to the stream. Loki decided to break the silence, “she’s mad at me. Rosalind.” 

Thor looked at him, “whatever for?”

“I don’t know. She won’t say.”

“Did something happen yesterday while you were in Vanaheim?”

“No, I don’t think so. Everything was great, but she wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Maybe it was one of those days, maybe she was tired.”

“She fell asleep early last night and still didn’t say anything to me this morning.” He said, making Thor chuckle. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because I’ve never seen you act like this for anyone. Loki, it’s not a big deal, people get upset with their partner and it’s okay. It’ll pass in time.”

“What will help speed up the process?”

“I don’t know, a gift? Give her something special, surprise her with flowers or her favorite meal.”

“The butterfly garden.” Loki thought aloud. “Mother’s butterfly garden.”

“I almost forgot about the butterfly garden. Rosalind would love that.”

He smiled, “Yes, she would. I’ll take her tomorrow, after lunch.”

X

Rosalind laid on her stomach in bed, hugging the pillow under her head, lost in her thoughts. Mika entered the room again, getting on the bed and leaning down to kiss Rosalind’s bare lower back all the way up to the back of her neck.

She turned her head, meeting his lips with a kiss. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He smiled, “sleep well?”

She nodded, “What time is it?”

“Almost three.”

“I’ll need to leave soon.”

“I thought you had all day.”

“I need to be back before dinner.” She lied, “If I’m not there, the king and queen will know.”

“Fine. Speaking of, the king hasn’t said who will ascend the throne?”

She turned on her back. “No, but let’s hope it’s Thor.” She picked up his hand, lacing their fingers, “I could finally be with you.”

 He smiled, “I’d love that.”

“So would I.”

“So why don’t we do it?”

“Do what?”

“Be together.” She looked at him in confusion so he clarified, “let’s run away together.”

She sat up, “What?”

“We could go far away from here, anywhere you want.”

“Mika, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because of my responsibilities. I’m married to the prince of Asgard, the possible king of Asgard. To run away with you…”

“You don’t want to.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but I can see it in your eyes.” He sat closer, taking her hands in his, “I came here to Asgard because I love you and want to be close to you, but I feel like I’m losing you to Loki.”

“Why, because I’m married to him?”

“He’s at the palace with you everyday. You eat together, sleep in the same bed every night… How could you not grow feelings for him?”

“Because my heart belongs to you.”

“Well, it doesn’t feel like I do.”

“I’ve been disloyal to my husband since even before we got married. I tell you that I love you and that I would be lost without you, and I just spent a whole morning with you. I would spend all night with you if I could but you know I can’t.” She wrapped an arm around his neck, hugging him. “You will never lose me. As long as I love you, I’ll always be here for you.”

He hugged her tightly.

Soon, Rosalind got dressed and gave Mika one last kiss before saying bye. She slowly made her way back to the palace as it began to turn dark outside.

Thor and Loki made it back to the palace as Rosalind entered the palace. Loki quickly dismounted his horse and followed behind his wife.

“Where are you coming from?” He asked, making her look back.

“Oh, Loki. You’re back. I was out all day.”

He reached out, lightly grasping her forearms, showing complete concern. “Are you alright?”

She slowly pulled away from him, “Yes. I just needed to clear my mind. Sorry. Something happened the other day, I had to think about it but we went to Vanaheim, so I took the time today.”

“I hope everything is okay.”

“I hope so too. Anyway, how was your day?”

“It was good. Listen, I was wondering if we could spend some time together tomorrow.”

“What for?”

“Just to hang out.” He smiled, “what do you say?”

She looked up at him, a smile creeping on her lips, “sure.”

“Good. Well, I’m gonna go shower real quick. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” She watched as he continued down the hall alone.

X

After breakfast the next morning, Rosalind followed Loki out of the palace. She asked where they were going and he told her it was a surprise, so she offered to take their horses but he insisted they walk. She obliged.

They walked together through the fields close to the palace. They stayed on the dirt path leading to the forest. As they got closer, she noticed how excited he looked. He couldn’t stop smiling, his eyes were lit up and it almost looked like he had a spring in his step.

They continued down the path into the forest, but stopped suddenly. Rosalind was about to question when Loki grabbed her hand and asked if she was ready. She answered yes and with a wave of his other hand, a secret door creaked open. It was disguised to match the scenery of trees and leaves by magic.

Loki pushed open the door where a bright light caused them to squint their eyes. Rosalind followed him in and after a few blinks, she saw the surprise.

Green grass, rose bushes, flowers everywhere, a bench and water fountain in the middle, butterflies of different colors were everywhere. It was a butterfly garden.

Loki watched Rosalind’s expression as she looked around in awe. His thumb softly stroked the back of her hand, catching her attention. They looked at each other and smiled.

“Do you like it?” He asked.

She answered happily, “I love it. It’s so beautiful.”

“It’s my mother’s butterfly garden.”

“Frigga’s? Well, it’s certainly beautiful, without a doubt.”

They looked around, watching the different butterflies land on the flowers or flying right in front of them. They sat on the bench, admiring the sight.

After a few minutes, Rosalind looked down at her hands on her lap, “why did you bring me here?”

“To apologize.” She looked up at him, “I don’t know what I did to make you upset with me but I just want to say I’m sorry.”

“Loki,” she sighed, “you did nothing wrong. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“Can I ask why you were upset then?”

“I just… I thought about everything that’s going on in my life right now. The good and bad. The choices I made. Sometimes I just wish there was a day where I didn’t feel so overwhelmed, like I don’t have to worry about everything, just me.”

“Perhaps there is. If you’d like, I could take you to the mountains for a week or two, a month even.”

“And do what?”

“Nothing. No duties, no work, it’ll just be us.”

“What about our duties now?”

“We’ll get them done and out of the way.” He placed a hand on hers, “you’re my friend, my wife, and I only want you to feel happy. We could ask the Allfather and ask the Allmother to convince him to let us go.”

“Where in the mountains would we go?”

“The family owns a cabin up there. The only thing is that it’s snowing there.”

“When would we go then?”

“Next week.” He answered simply, “we stay for two weeks, how does that sound?”

“It sounds nice.” She agreed. “Are you sure they’ll let us go?”

He nodded, “and if they don’t we’ll still go anyway.”

“Loki, I don’t want to get in any trouble.”

“Fine, we’ll ask. They’re gonna say yes, though.”

“You seem so sure.”

“Yeah, because they like you.”

She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, “Thank you.”

Loki was surprised at first, but smiled after. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

[2manyfandoms2count]

#MarichatMay Day 21+22

Embracing the French culture today, I liked the challenge of making our two lovebirds kiss on Bastille Day rather than on New Year’s Eve (the only two moments we get fireworks in Paris)! I hope you like it, thanks for all the support! xxx

@marichatmay

---

Day 21: Fireworks + Day 22: Kiss

There are two teams in Paris for Bastille Day: on the one hand, the people who go on holiday in July, shunning the famous Eiffel Tower fireworks for a less urban scenery, generally on one of France’s coasts where the heat is less oppressive. On the other hand, those who holiday in August, by choice or otherwise, or those who simply don’t, who take all the celebrations as a compensation for not being able to escape. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste were on the latter team. Due to the success of her parents’ bakery, Marinette generally only got away from the City of Lights for one week at the beginning of August, business being slower as the Juillettistes returned and the Aoûtiens left. As for Adrien, it had been a while since his father had taken a holiday; the only travelling any of them did was strictly for business, and generally never in Summer. They were virtually the only people in their class left in the capital. 

Although aware of the other’s presence in Paris, neither knew how to reach out to suggest spending time together. And with both of their main wing people, Alya and Nino, away, it seemed like contact wouldn’t be made anytime soon. Unbeknownst to the two teenagers, both had considered visiting the other as their alter ego, and had even tried. Marinette had chickened out when she’d seen him sitting at his desk, not knowing how to justify her presence, and fearing she might reveal herself if she spoke with him. Adrien had simply not found her as he repeatedly swung by her place right after patrol, hoping to bump into her. 

Having seen Chat Noir snoop around outside her room, obviously looking for her, several times in a row, having made it to her place before she could, Marinette decided maybe she should take action before Chat could connect the dots. Feigning something about relatives coming into town, Ladybug bailed on him for patrol on the 13th of July, and Marinette made sure to be obvious on her balcony. She didn’t know what he wanted with her, but knowing she would be seeing him made her feel all giddy inside. He was pretty much the only person she talked to in person these days, apart from her parents. They both seemed slightly reticent at the thought of leaving each other at the end of patrol, and the thought that she could get some extra time with her (male) best friend made her feel better.

“Well hello, there, Purr-incess!” Chat’s smile was as bright as sunshine as he landed next to her. “I was starting to lose hope that I’d see you before the end of the Summer!”

“Awe, that’s cute, you really came to check on me?” She opened her eyes wide, exaggerating her surprise. She liked playing slightly dumb with him, although the more time she spent with him, the less she was inclined to do it. Something about wanting to impress him somehow? Had she not been thinking about Adrien so much she might have started thinking she was developing feelings for her partner.

“Well, you know, the bakery’s open, things had moved in your room between the first and the second time I came around... Just thought you might be there.” He shrugged as he scratched the back of his head slightly sheepishly.

“You must have been around when I was visiting my grandfather.” She half-lied. She did see him every other day, but generally in the morning, to make pastries with him. “Had I known you’d be coming, I would have changed my schedule around, though, it’s not like much is happening right now.” She smiled tightly, her gaze falling on the empty street below them. There were usually a comfortable flow of passer-bys at this time of the evening.

“I know exactly what you mean.” Chat sighed, leaning his elbows on the railing, his back slightly slumped. “I miss school.”

“You don’t mean that!” She gasped. “They’ll hear you and give you holiday homework.” She half-whispered, suspiciously looking around them. It brought a smile to his previously pouting lips.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” He turned around, the railing now against his back as he looked at her, affection seeping from his eyes.

“Tomorrow? For the Quatorze Juillet?” She tilted her head, pretending to think when she knew the plan would be the usual, staying in with her parents, and catching the fireworks from the exact place they were standing in later. “Nothing in particular, why?”

“Want to watch the fireworks from a rooftop claw-ser to the Eiffel Tower?” Chat Noir had intended to ask Ladybug that exact question, but it was her loss for not showing up tonight. And he wasn’t going to invite her along, he had some catching up to do with Marinette.

“Sounds great!” She grinned, her smile spreading to her pretty blue eyes. 

“I’ll pick you up at 7pm then?”

“Can’t wait!” 

Chat left with a slight spring in his step, excited to spend time with his good friend. And also imagining how pretty she would look in the dappled coloured light of fireworks. 

---

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised by the fact she was carrying a basket full of provisions when they met up the next day. Leave it to her to think of all the little details that made events like this one perfect. His stomach rumbled at the thought of the T&S bakery quiche he could smell thanks to his excellent cat senses. He had reached for the basket (obviously to carry it for her, not to eat from it), but Marinette had flicked him lightly on the nose with a smirk at the sound, asking him to be patient.

Her confidence and playfulness had wavered slightly as they landed on top of the Agreste’s hôtel particulier. It was a prime spot to watch the show, being quite literally at the foot of the main attraction.

“Are you sure we can be here?” She asked, afraid to move too much. What if they were caught? What if Adrien caught them? 

“Paw-sitive. Adrien and his father are at an event tonight, no one’s Home.” Ha. She still looked slightly flustered at the thought of being in someone’s property, especially someone she knew. He wished he could tell her that actually Adrien was here, speaking to her, and that’s how he knew the others had a day off (Gorilla) or were in Tokyo (Gabriel and Nathalie). “I asked Adrien, don’t worry, he’s fine with us being here. And we agreed not to tell his father.”

The information seemed to appease her. Marinette smiled brightly at him and got the picnic supplies out, spreading a blanket at their feet to set their makeshift table on. He helped her lay out the food, amazed at the quantities contained in the basket. He couldn’t wait for the passion fuit macarons he’d spotted. 

They chatted as they ate, Chat happy to finally talk to someone about something else than his schedule and his piano rehearsals. He liked seeing Marinette so relaxed, and was glad the holidays helped her loosen up a bit. She always seemed quite stressed when they interacted at school, probably because of the amount of work they had. It checked out: Chat generally visited her at the weekend, when she had a little more time on her hands to unwind.

Marinette was happy to be with Chat Noir. She felt comfortable sitting close to him on the roof. The fact it was Adrien’s roof had quickly slipped her mind as he told her all about his adventures with Ladybug. She liked hearing him talk, he seemed so passionate and happy. Which wasn’t always the case when Ladybug met up with him.

The pair had shifted closer as the evening went by, to the point where they sat next to each other, facing the Eiffel Tower when the fireworks started. The sudden crackling, slightly deafening in contrast with the peaceful bird chirping and laughs that came from the nearby Champs de Mars, made Marinette jump and laugh in surprise, her shoulder now touching Chat’s arm due to their height difference. She instinctively leaned her head on his shoulder, marvelling at the light show. Chat’s arm automatically wrapped around her waist, as his head tilted to rest on top of hers.

“Do you know why the sound is delayed?” He whispered in her ear, bright colours erupting in the night sky before their associated ‘boom’ could be heard.

“No?” She answered, turning slightly towards him. His warm breath near her ear had sent butterflies flying in her stomach. Fireworks, she corrected herself, the innocent image of butterflies tarnished by Hawkmoth in her mind. 

“It’s because light travels faster than sound. So by the time sound reaches us, more lights have have had time to make it in the sky.” Said lights reflected very handsomely in his masked eyes.

“Interesting.” She smiled. Like the fact your lips look very kissable right now. She mentally shook her head at the thought. “You know, I never pegged you as a scientist, Kitty.”

“Physics is actually my favourite subject.” He smiled. 

“I guess there’s a lot I still don’t know about you.”

Their faces had inched closer as they spoke, not only because of the ambient noise.

“You know, I’d really love for you to know more about me.” Chat whispered, his lips mere centimetres from hers, taunting her. 

She gave in. 

It wasn’t much. Just a brush of their lips, really. But it caught both of them by surprise. Marinette felt frozen as she pulled away, her heart rate having risen far beyond what she thought was possible. She avoided his gaze, her cheeks burning. 

“I- I’m sorry, I don’t-”

Chat’s lips suddenly on hers interrupted her mid-sentence. His kiss was gentle, yet deep, tentative, yet just right. His hands, which had tilted her head up tenderly at first, now cupped her face, his gloves much softer than she would have expected against her skin. One of Marinette’s hands tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck, the other rested against his torso. She was glad to feel she wasn’t the only one whose heart had gone haywire. She smiled as his chest vibrated in a purr, momentarily masking his heart rate.

The fireworks around them were nothing compared to that inside of them. In fact, they didn’t even notice when the former stopped, too lost in their own bubble, on a Parisian roof on a hot Summer evening. 

[unfragilelove]

when all is lost, then all is found.  (1/1)

This is the idea that’s been knocking around in my head and refusing to let me rest until I spat it out on paper.   I hope you all enjoy.  <3 (begins post-Frozen 1, and ends post-Frozen 2.)

Frohana/Kristanna    ||   No warnings/rating    ||    ao3 link

“If you don’t mind my asking, why did you travel with ice harvesters as a child?   Why didn’t you live in an Arendelle orphanage?” Kristoff just shrugs.  “Because there isn’t one.”

aka:   The royal family establishes the first orphanage in Arendelle, and the children are not the only ones who find a home within it's walls.

Arendelle has always prided itself on being well-run kingdom, fortunate enough to have an abundance of resources, plenty of trade, a fairly stable economy, and residents who rarely disturb the peace.

Which is why it comes as such a shock to Anna and Elsa when, in a conversation with Kristoff, full of quiet admissions and tales of their childhood, the topic comes up:

  “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you travel with ice harvesters as a child?   Why didn’t you live in an Arendelle orphanage?”

  Kristoff just shrugs.  “Because there isn’t one.”

  Anna’s jaw drops and Elsa looks a combination of surprised and uncomfortable, both of the women falling silent for several long moments, seemingly at a loss for words.

  “There isn’t one?”  Anna speaks up first, her voice incredulous, “Not anywhere in our entire kingdom?”

  “No.   But, to be fair, it’s not like there are a lot of displaced kids in Arendelle.”

  “But when there are,”  Anna says, her voice rising with her building emotions,  “When it does come up, and there are parents who can’t take care of their baby, or a kid whose parents die,”  Elsa and Kristoff both wince a bit at that, and the waver in Anna’s voice speaks for itself,  “We don’t have anywhere for them to go?”

  Kristoff presses his lips together in a tight frown, unable to find the words to ease her mind.  Admittedly, it does bother him, too— the thought of other children growing up without homes, and perhaps not ending up as fortunate as he did.  (Trolls they may be, but they’re his family, all the same.)

  “I feel awful, for not even knowing.”  Elsa says, her voice quiet and eyes pensive. 

  “Up until a few months ago, you two spent your entire lives inside the castle walls.  It’s not your fault that you don’t know every inch of Arendelle yet.”  Kristoff says, looking at the two downtrodden sisters, and hoping to assuage some of their guilt.

  “But we can change that, right?”  Anna asks, though her voice leaves little room for argument.  “We could create a place where kids can be safe.  Somewhere that they can stay until they find home and families, somewhere they don’t have to be alone anymore.”

  None of them seem inclined to disagree.

  It’s a fairly small thing, Arendelle’s Home for Children, but it’s plenty homey, with plush blankets on warm beds, and boxes full of toys, and a view of the fjord through the dining room window.   It’s located right outside the castle gates, too, which makes overseeing the building process all the easier.   (They all play a role in it’s creation, Kristoff helps with a lot of the hands-on work, Elsa oversees the plans, and Anna is the creative force behind it all, offering ideas and helping in any way she can.)

  The demand for an orphanage was not immense, but it's a cause that proves itself more than necessary.

  This rings particularly true, when it hasn't even been a week after they finish painting the outer walls, and they are approached by a woman, tears rolling down her face, a young toddler in her arms.   A child that is not hers, but her brother’s, who went out for what was supposed to be a two-day trek into the mountains and failed to return alive, and she simply can’t raise the boy herself anymore, she’s sorry, so sorry--

  (It isn't long at all before a couple-- two lovely women, both skilled blacksmiths-- tentatively come into the Home.   They’ve wanted a child of their own for years now, and considering the way the couple’s eyes well up with tears when the two tiny hands reach up toward them,  Anna, Elsa and Kristoff all have no doubt they made the right decision.)

  As time passes, the amount of children in the Home ebbs and flows— thankfully, they’ve rarely had more than five residents at any given time, and in the two whole years since it’s been open, they’ve said tearful farewells to almost a dozen children who’ve found happy homes with new parents.

  Turns out, there are kids in Arendelle who need a safe place to live, but there are also plenty of couples--  same-sex couples, or ones who cannot bear children, or individuals who simply want to adopt a child into their life--  who are equally grateful for the opportunity to expand their family.

  It may be far from a lucrative business, but it’s brought them far more fulfillment than any amount of coin could.

   When they first opened Arendelle’s Home for Children, Gerda had offered her assistance in running the place.   Anna, who remembered how kind she was to her as a child, knew she’d be as good a fit as any.   And now, coming up on two and a half years into the endeavor, it still rings true.    However, while Gerda remains the primary live-in caretaker, the royal family’s presence has been far from absent.

  Kristoff spends a fair amount of time down in the Home, often bringing Sven, who happily brays and lets the kids hang off his antlers, or ride on his back.   He can’t help but talk for Sven, too, which almost always makes the younger children giggle and squeal in delight.    

  There’s one little girl there, Sylvi, with pale skin and tangled blonde hair, who mostly keeps to herself— she’s nonverbal, and hasn’t quite warmed up to any of them yet, curling away from any sort of physical contact. 

(They’re not sure if she was born that way, or if it’s a coping mechanism, or some combination of both. They know next to nothing about her past, but they’ll do everything they can to ensure her a happy future.)    

  She still remains rather closed-off, despite being at the Home for a few months now.   But then, on a crisp Spring morning, something incredible happens-- Kristoff breaks out in Sven’s voice, and Sylvi’s face lights up like a Christmas tree.   She smiles-- the very first smile they’ve seen cross her face in all the time she’s been there-- and she wanders over to bury her hands happily in the thick texture of the reindeer’s fur.   It’s the most progress they’ve seen her make thus far, and Kristoff has never felt prouder.

      Meanwhile, Anna spends any free time she has at the Home, too-- enthusiastically telling the kids stories of her adventures, (usually with Olaf at her side, reenacting the scenes with equal enthusiasm.)   And she’s almost always bringing the kids more toys. (“Your highness, how many times must I insist there are already too many toys to keep the place tidy!”   “Oh, come on Gerda, how am I supposed to be considered a kind and generous princess if I don’t spoil my favorite little Arendellians!   Plus, Kristoff and I already started building them bigger toy boxes, don’t worry.”)   

  There’s a boy there, Fredrik, with wild curly locks and a gap-toothed grin, who always runs and flings himself into Anna’s arms.  He, too, always has a new story to tell— of he and the other kids playing pirates, or this baby rabbit he saw in the woods, or the way he swears there’s a sea monster in the fjord.    Sometimes he’ll stop himself mid-sentence, as though realizing he’s rambling, and stumbles over an apology-- in a way that feels painfully familiar to Anna.   But she’ll be damned if she makes a child feel any of the same inadequacy she did.    With a shake of her head and a smile, she’ll urge him on, “Well, don’t leave me hanging!   You’ve gotta tell me what happened next!”   

The way his face always brightens in response is worth more than anything in the world.   

    Elsa stops by frequently, as well— though at first it had taken her a bit longer to get used to being around children, mostly due to the fear she still wasn’t fully in control of her powers.     Once she had begun to visit, though, the children quickly grew on her, and she’ll often make them little flurries and piles of snow to play in during the hot summer months.   There’s an older girl in her late teens, named Runa— who starts to sit next to Elsa while the younger children play.   Runa is mostly blind, but she often requests little ice sculptures from Elsa, a smile always gracing her face as she runs her fingers along the frigid curves of each figurine.    Of course, they have plenty of wooden toys that could serve the same purpose.  So one day, Elsa can't help but to ask, “Doesn’t the cold bother you?”  

Runa shrugs,  “I’ve never minded it.”  

  Perhaps it’s not so much the ice figurines she enjoys, as much as it is the company and kindness of another.

   Of course, all the children who have come into the Home hold special places in each of their hearts.   It’s a complicated sort of love, as every farewell they have is a bittersweet one (it means they’ll see the child far less, if at all--  but it means they've found a real home, which is so, so good.)   

  And on a similar vein, every child they watch get passed up by potential families breaks their hearts.   

  It's Autumn when a lot changes in an incredibly short span of time.   By the time the dust fully settles in Arendelle, Anna’s both engaged and coronated as Queen, Elsa lives in the Enchanted Forest with the Northuldra, and there’s an entire chunk of their kingdom’s history that needs retelling.    For Anna, in particular, the queendom comes incredibly natural to her— but the journey it took to get there, the mass of secrets their family kept, holding Olaf as he perished, the gripping fear that she was truly alone , followed by nearly dying on the dam--  well, that all is a bit harder to come to terms with.  

  Eventually, though, things calm down enough for them to fall back in to a mostly normal routine, and they waste no time visiting the Home regularly once more.   There, they find a couple new residents, and, unfortunately-- three familiar faces who’ve yet to find homes.

Sylvi, despite most families passing her by, makes great strides-- she warms up to Kristoff through her comfort around Sven, and begins to trust the sisters, too.   Elsa, with her calm and composed demeanor, seems to put her at ease.   And Anna, though far more excitable than her sister in nature, is always careful to not to overstimulate or stress the child out.   Eventually, the first time Sylvi makes proper eye contact with someone is with Anna, her curious little eyes becoming absolutely fixated on the princess’s face as she tells her a story.    The little one doesn’t even seem to realize she’s doing it, and yet it takes Anna all the willpower she can muster to stay focused on the tale she’s weaving, and not start to cry right then and there.

  Fredrik, meanwhile, is a lovebug with just about everyone, as outgoing as ever and never seeming to run low on energy.   He loves nature, always asking to ride Sven, or picking up little snails off the cobblestone path and moving them to safety, or doodling different plants he finds throughout the town.   He can almost always be found running around playing with Olaf, or dragging the other children into games, or asking Kristoff and Anna to take him on hikes, or running headfirst into a snow pile Elsa made-- (to which she quickly has to add extra snow to cushion him from hitting the ground beneath, and dear gods , these children will never fail to keep their reflexes sharp.) 

  Elsa, although no longer living there, still visits Arendelle rather frequently.   While it’s their family game night that keeps her coming back weekly, she makes time to visit the Home, as well.    Despite it being a regular occurrence, Runa’s face never fails to light up when she hears Elsa’s voice.   It always makes her heart feel full-- that is, until the day Gerda pulls her aside and shares that they haven’t had many potential adopters, lately, and those that do visit are almost never interested in Runa.   

“Beyond being blind, she’s nearly an adult, in most people’s eyes.” Gerda tells her in a whisper, her voice thick with sadness.  “And I fear she may not find a family before that day comes.”    

  It sticks with Elsa, the words ringing in her ears and refusing to grant her peace.   She feels like it’s the siren’s call all over again, something nagging in the back of her mind, except instead of being mysterious and exciting, it’s an echo of a far more grim reality.   She returns to the Enchanted Forest that night, and it’s several weeks before she visits the orphanage again.

  “You came back!”  Runa exclaims when she returns, “I was starting to think you forgot about me.”

  “Quite the opposite, actually, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.   There’s something I need to speak to you about.”  A sharp breath, and then:  “How would you feel about coming to live with me and the Northuldra?”

  A few more months pass, and while the newest children have come and gone from their system in nearly record time, Sylvi and Fredrik still remain.   It’s just the two of them in the Home now, and with the holidays only days away, it doesn’t appear they’ll find homes before the new year.

  As a result, Kristoff and Anna, in addition to the time they spend with them during the day, have taken to inviting the kids for dinner with them in the castle, most nights. (“They deserve to eat in a proper home, you know?” “Of course, and I’m sure Gerda will enjoy having the afternoon off--”  “Right, and Fredrik didn’t get a chance to finish telling us about how he saved that baby bird!”

“And really, no child deserves to feel alone this time of year.”)

It’s not the first time they’ve all eaten in the castle together, but there’s something about the way Sylvi erupts into a fit of loud giggles when Fredrik puts a carrot up his nose to imitate Olaf,  or the way Kristoff feigns shock to amuse the kids each time he looks away only to find more and more brussel sprouts being snuck onto his plate,  or the way Fredrik, with a belly already full of hearty food, looks at the dessert tray being brought in and says, “Man, I love you guys.”   

  The moments are happy ones, and yet Anna’s chest aches  while watching how well these two children seem to settle into their everyday life.  The Home would continue to keep them safe and comfortable, yes, but it’s still not… well, a home .

  The short trek back to the orphanage that night is a heavy one, as they know the kids need to be back in their own beds, but find that it’s getting harder and harder to say goodbye each time.   Sylvi tucks her nose into the crook of Anna’s neck as she carries her, no longer terrified of touch as she once was (at least, not from Kristoff and Anna.)    And Fredrik sits on Kristoff’s shoulders, his boundless energy finally waning as his eyes droop closed.  

  They tuck them in and say their goodnights, returning home to a castle that suddenly feels far too empty.

    It’s only a few hours later, when Kristoff and Anna decide to retire to their room for the night.  The two of them are quietly getting ready for bed when Kristoff speaks up, his voice tentative.  

  “Anna, do you, uh-- do you still want to have kids?” 

  “I do.   Why?  Wait, are you having second thoughts—“

  “No, no, definitely not!   I still do too.  I really do.”

  Anna watches him, her fingers playing absent-mindedly with his hair as she waits patiently for him to get to the point he’s clearly trying to build toward.   He takes a deep breath, and then:

  “Do you want only... biological children?”

  Her heart swells as it occurs to her where he’s heading with this, and she wonders how she got so lucky, to find someone whose soul aligns so perfectly with her own.

  “Not at all," Anna says, and oh, she can already feel the tears building in her eyes,  "I’d be happy raising a child with you, however they come into our life.” 

   “So say there was a boy with curly hair and a kind heart, as feisty as you, to slide down the bannisters with--”

  “Or maybe a little blonde like you, who trusts us more than anyone, quiet but brave as can be, who comes out of her shell more and more every day--”

  “Or both?”   He asks with a sheepish, yet oh-so radiant grin, and Anna mirrors it tenfold.  

  “Yeah.  Both sounds good to me.”

[randomoranges]

i’ve had this idea in mind since summer. it’s a combination of things. it continues the narrative of étienne visits ed and cal over spring 2020, it’s also a prize fic for @allbeendonebefore who is the only one in the friend circle to have completed the dictation challenge and wanted something with succulents and it’s also a reflection on long distance whatevers and how when they’re away it all feels fine bcs you get used to it, but when they’re back errthing feels so much bigger and when they leave again you’re crushed it’s over.

anyways.

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Early June 2020

 Edward makes himself comfortable and swings an arm around Étienne’s shoulders. He likes the way Étienne curls up around him and furrows his face in his chest and lets out a content sigh. He likes how Étienne comes to him for these things – how he doesn’t hold back as much – how he’ll seek him out for hugs and cuddles when he wants them. He likes that they’ve grown closer around each other over the past few weeks and that some of their stilted attempts at normalcy have gained fluency.

 Shame it ends in the morning, really.

 But, Edward tries not to think about that.

 Instead, he focuses on the now – on the last few moments before it all ends.

 To be honest, Edward thought for sure that Étienne would stay a little longer, but he’s also not surprised that his boyfriend has decided to head back home. It’s summer, after all, and despite everything, Étienne still feels the pull and call to go back – to soak up the rays and recharge as much as he can before winter strolls in again with its harsh winds and long and dreary nights. He knows the good summer does to Étienne and knows how important it is for him to reconnect with his land.

 Still, it stings a little.

 It’s strange, he thinks, but after a few weeks of Étienne being back home, he gets used to it again. He falls into his own routine, picks up a new one with his boyfriend where they text and video chat every so often, but every time they see each other, Edward realises how much he misses him and how great it is to have him around. It’s as if his feelings and emotions are cranked to the max and time seems to slip through his fingers. And then, just as he’s getting used to having Étienne around, just as they start making plans and start developing a different type of routine, the trip is over and Étienne is yanked out of his reach.

 It’s the same thing tonight.

 He sees it with Étienne’s half-full suitcase.

 At least, this time, he’s had more than a few days hastily thrown together. It’s more than he can say about the state of the suitcase. Maybe, if he hides a few of Étienne’s possessions, Étienne will stay a little longer. It’s wishful thinking and it can’t hurt.

 “Hey, I can hear you thinking, what’s up?”

 Edward blinks and looks back down to gorgeous green eyes he’s already missing. He offers Étienne a small smile and bends his head to peck his lips. It’s a welcomed distraction and he goes willingly when Étienne pulls him down for something with a little more feeling and a little more heat. He wonders if he’s not the only one ruminating this departure that feels both sudden and planned and tries not to think too much about it even if it’s hard.

 “Thinking of nefarious ways I can keep you back here,” He admits with a chuckle. Étienne rolls his eyes at him, but it’s soft and so very fond. His boyfriend levels with him and rests his forehead against his own.

 “I’ll miss you too, Eddy,” Étienne says and Edward holds him a little closer than necessary and a little tighter than needed for more than a few seconds.

 He remembers how it started, a few days after Étienne’s birthday. He remembers sitting out on the back porch with Étienne, quietly staring at the chickens and the dog. It had been another quiet day; another quiet morning and it looked as though it would be nice and sunny. They hadn’t been saying much, enjoying each other’s company and the pleasant weather, when Étienne had spoken, nearly startling him.

 It had been a quiet sentence spoken to no one in particular, but there to be heard if anyone cared to. It seemed to be the other man’s new way of doing things – stating things softly as if addressing the blades of grass that grew in the gentle breeze of the wind and the caress of the sun. Étienne’s vigor and energy were still a thing of the past and Edward not only feared, but also wondered if he’d imagined them all along.

 Yet, Étienne had simply said that he thought it was time to go home and he was thinking of leaving by the end of the week.

 Edward had been – shocked.

 Edward is still shocked.

 They’d talked about it. Étienne had explained that for as much as he still didn’t feel one hundred percent and even though he was eternally grateful for Edward’s (and even Calvin’s) hospitality, he needed to be back home. He needed to be there for his people, for his sister – and for himself. He wished things could have been different, but at least, they had gotten this time out of it.

 So, Étienne had purchased his ticket and had quietly and slowly started packing.

 And now it’s their last night together.

 Edward feels like there’s so much he still wants to do and say to Étienne. He feels like he’s run out of time and the fact of the matter is that they both don’t know when’s the next time they’re going to see each other. He supposes that’s the real kicker – that there’s no real planned next visit – that they don’t know if they’ll be able to. They got this, but will they get more? He knows Étienne’s been thinking about it – about whether or not it’s wise to go home, not because of the caseload back home, but of potentially not being able to come back. But – there used to be a time when the only thing they had was letters. At least now, there’s technology to make the cold, lonely nights a little friendlier.

 It’s something.

 They’ll manage.

 They always do.

 They’ll find a way.

 “I have something for you,” Edward blurts as he disentangles himself from the cocoon of warmth. Étienne gives him a puzzled look and even Mercury raises her head to see what the commotion is all about. Edward excuses himself and leaves the room to retrieve the three items. He’d thought of the best time to give them, had figured they could do as birthday gifts, had decided against the idea and had gone back on it ever since, but – now seems like the best of times.

 He returns to the guestroom and lets himself get pulled back under the covers, wrapped around Étienne’s legs and arms, trapped in the best of ways. This time, Étienne sits up, curious as to what this is all about and Edward grows a little shy and quiet. These presents feel a little lame, now that he’s holding on to them and he hopes he hasn’t built up any hype that will be met with disappointment.

 Étienne brushes Edward’s worries away as he grabs the small bag out of his hands and eagerly opens it up. He pulls out a first box and sets the bag aside to open it up. The curious expression and smile on Étienne’s face vanish and Edward thinks he may have gone overboard with the gift, considering his boyfriend has grown silent.

 Étienne looks up at him, clutching the key and the key ring tightly in his hands and a myriad of different emotions play in Étienne’s eyes that Edward briefly reads.

 “I thought – you gave me yours back in February, I figured it would only be fair if – you could have your own – for real, this time – I want you to have your own key to my place – for you to use whenever you visit.” Edward remembers a time, what feels like ages ago, when he’d made a key for Étienne. When he’d purposely made one for him, even though at the time he – hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of others seeing him with Étienne – with his friend visiting – and he’d never told Étienne he could keep the key. Étienne had obviously only used it during his few and far between stays, but – it had hurt Edward when Étienne hadn’t kept the key or absconded with it, as though Étienne was pushing him away or shunning him, even though Edward had never specified. Now, however, he is being clear with his intentions. He wants Étienne to have a key. To feel that he could come here whenever. That he is welcomed. That this is a safe place for him. A port in a storm and such.

 He wonders if Étienne is aware of all of its significance, and he must, for Étienne’s eyes mist over for a moment and he grows serious as he brushes a finger over the grooves and ridges of the key.

 “It’s yours,” He reiterates. “I want you to have it and use it. You come here anytime you want – you’re welcome here. I want you here, okay? And you can come back whenever – I don’t care if you make it home, wake up the next day and realise you want to return. You do that. I don’t want you to second guess yourself and wonder if you need to check first. You can stay here even if I’m not here. This place – my home – it’s – I want you here. You’re part of it. I –” He tries not to get choked up on his words, but he stumbles halfway through and gets thrown off balance when Étienne near topples them both off the bed when he semi-launches himself at him and hugs him tightly and closely. Only Mercury seems disgruntled by the sudden shift, but she settles back down.

 “Thank you,” Étienne says with all the sincerity of the world and Edward watches as he clutches the key tightly in his hand. He then puts it back in the box and moves on to the next present.

 This one is wrapped in tissue paper and doesn’t weigh much, but – Edward has spent ages on it. Months, really, and has made his best to finish it in time.

 It’s a mask, Étienne finds out, black fabric with intricate needle and beadwork motifs on the front.

 “I know you’ve been making your own and have quite a few,” Edward starts, as if he wants to defend his going away presents, “But, I liked the idea behind this one...”

 “Did you make this?” Étienne asks to be sure as his fingers dance over the carefully placed stitches and beads that form the motifs of his flag – the thistle, the shamrock, the lily, the rose, and the yellow pine. It’s an ode to him – to some of his roots and either Edward spent time making this for him, or he commissioned someone for it.

 “I – yeah, I did,” He admits.

 Étienne is quiet as he looks at the intricate details, still carefully feeling the beads and the stitches under his gentle caress as though worshiping the artisanship that went into it. Edward had been inspired by a local native company that had launched its own sets of masks and figured he could give it a go. It had been tedious work, but he enjoyed it. At first, his intention had been to mail it to Étienne, but once Étienne had shown up on his doorstep, he figured he could gift it to him at some point. Working on it while Étienne wasn’t around had proven a little difficult, since he wanted to keep it a surprise, but he’d managed.

 “It’s beautiful,” He says, voice filled with awe. Edward’s cheeks pink at the comment, but he’s pleased. He worked really hard on the design and the mask and he’s proud of the result. Now, he’s glad Étienne likes it. “I’ll wear it tomorrow,” He ads and Edward’s insides do a funny loop at that. There’s something alluring about the thought that Étienne wants to wear the mask he made and will actually wear it.

 “You didn’t have to go through all the trouble, though,” He says as he puts the mask carefully back in the bag.

 Edward sighs. He’s heard Étienne tell him he didn’t have to go through all the trouble for many things over the past few weeks and he’s quite frankly tired of it. “It was no trouble. None of this was any trouble. Having you over was not a trouble. I did everything – I keep doing everything I do – because I enjoy it. Because I like doing things for you and because you’re worth my time, okay? Now please get it through that thick mass of curls of yours or so help me.”

 Étienne offers him a quiet smile in return and Edward thinks it’s all worth it just for those little quiet smiles.

 “What’re you gonna do if it doesn’t get through then?”

 Edward recognises the teasing edge hidden behind Étienne’s words and he rolls his eyes fondly. At least Étienne teases back now. At least he’s on the road back to his regular self. At least, Étienne feels safe being himself around him again. Less and less of that guarded glass personality. No more polite smiles and empty conversations. They’re back to something similar to what they’d had before, friendship wise anyways. They’re working on the rest, but Edward feels confident about this. If anything, this month and a half or so has sped up the process. Helped mend a few bridges along the way and such. He’s thankful for that, if nothing else.

 “I don’t know, I might just have to force it down, for starters.” He offers back.

 There’s a spark in those pretty green-brown eyes he loves so much and it’s lit up with with mischief. He likes this version of Étienne – likes the playful edge he has.

 “Yeah? How so?”

 Edward scoffs and leans over so that he can claim Étienne’s lips with his own. He thinks he’s going for a surprise attack, but Étienne had seen it coming and wraps his arms around him and pulls him in for something much deeper. Edward sighs against his boyfriend’s lips and changes the pace for something much softer but lingering.

 This, by far, has been the best thing about Étienne’s prolonged stay with him; the exchange of plush kisses that never seem to end or quench his burning desire for more. There are still decades worth of catching up to do, but now they have time to make up for all those lost opportunities.

 The gifts are momentarily forgotten and Edward silently thrills as Étienne wraps his legs around his body and manages to dip his hand underneath his shirt to caress warm skin he’s ever so fond of. They don’t do more than heavy kissing, at least, not now, but it doesn’t matter; Edward feels more connected with Étienne than he ever did before and he’s content to stay here with him, even if all they do is talk and curl-up tight around each other.

 “Did that help a bit?” Edward asks when they pull away, later, faces flushed and lips kiss-swollen. He thinks Étienne looks beautiful this way and should always look like this with his tousled curly hair and pretty pink lips.

 “A bit. Might need a few more lessons before I leave, though. It would be such a shame if I went back home and forgot all about it.”

 Edward pecks the corner of his lips as a response, “Of course; it would be a pleasure.” He ads for good measure.

 Étienne takes the bag again and pulls out the last of the presents. It’s heavier than the other two and a little bulkier. Edward warns him to be careful with it and Étienne wonders what could possibly be in the box. He opens it with gentle, careful hands and moves the tissue paper around, until he finds the smallest of clay pots holding what seems like the tiniest of little plants.

 The plant looks both foreign and similar and Edward remains silent to see if Étienne will come to some conclusion. He touches the delicate leaves, deep in thought and Edward rubs his shoulder.

 “I can hear you thinking,” He parrots back to Étienne. His boyfriend looks away from the plant and up to him and Edward sees the questions running in his eyes.

 “It’s a plant. I’m trying to figure out why and I’m also – it looks familiar. But – I know it can’t and I’m probably misremembering something.”

 Edward beams and is relieved that Étienne more or less figured it out.

 “Indulge me, why does it look familiar?” He presses on and Étienne goes quiet again, looks at Mercury who is back to snoozing at the foot of the bed for now and then back up at Edward. His cheeks are a little pink and he looks a little uncertain.

 “I’m probably wrong. And – it’s fine if it’s not that. But – my sister gave me a succulent, ages ago. You came over once and a leaf snapped off. I was going to throw it out, but you wanted to keep it. Said you’d read something about how you can start a new plant with the leaf. Asked if you could keep it to try it out. I said to knock yourself out. I – we – shortly after that we – didn’t see each other much and neither of us brought up the leaf or the plant. Mine died, eventually. Either gave it too much water or forgot to water it once too many times. It – looks like that plant. Sort of. But – it can’t be.” He pauses, “Right?”

 Edward grins and presses a kiss to the top of his head. God, but he loves this man a stupid amount. “What if I told you that I got that leaf to develop into a plant and that I still have it?”

 Étienne blinks, “Impossible.”

 “It’s in the living room. You’ve seen it. Many times.”

 Étienne looks completely baffled and Edward can’t help but laugh. He has indeed seen the plant. Knows exactly which one Edward is referring to, but Étienne had never thought it was the same. Hadn’t even given it much thought. “This just goes to show you that there’s always hope – somehow. Even if you think something is over – that it’s gone for good – sometimes, things have a way of coming back – stronger than before.”

 “Who the hell gave you this much insight and what have you done with Edward Murphy?” Étienne says as a deflection from his thoughts that keep crashing in his mind, as he tries to make sense of all of this.

 Edward laughs, deep and rich and Étienne cracks a smile at that, “I’m just saying, it’s a good perspective to keep in mind.”

 Étienne nods and settles back against him, cradling the plant in his hands, “So, this is a cutting of it?”

 “An offset of it, yeah. I cut off a few of them in early April and then with you coming over and everything else, I thought it would be a nice gift.”

 Étienne examines the plant for a moment longer, before he carefully puts it back in the box and then the bag. “It is – thank you; I promise I’ll try my best to look after it.”

 “That’s all anyone ever asks – to do their best.”

 --

 When Edward wakes up the following morning, there’s already pleasant sunshine streaming through the curtains and he feels as though the weather is mocking him. He obviously knows that Étienne wouldn’t spend the rest of his life here in Edmonton with him, but – it would have been nice to have more time. He tells himself to be grateful for what he got and that’s how he starts the day.

 Breakfast is a quiet affair even if Calvin tries to liven it with his usual jokes and trivial talk. Normally, he welcomes the distraction, but this morning it feels out of place and Calvin must get it, for he stops as well and keeps to himself.

 Étienne excuses himself after he clears his dish and returns to the guestroom to finish packing before the drive to the airport. Calvin volunteers to take Mercury for a quick walk and Edward secretly wonders if Calvin isn’t giving him some space with Étienne before it’s time for him to go. Regardless, he’s happy for the diversion and thus finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed as Étienne throws in the last of his things, while making sure he isn’t leaving anything behind.

 “You’ll just have to come back and get them,” Edward says and he wants it to sound light and funny, but it comes out a little heavy instead. He’ll miss the bugger. Miss having him around and stealing hugs and kisses from him. Miss the late night talks and just being able to share the same space without rush.

 “Or, I can just drop by unannounced and crash. I have a key now, Murphy and I intent to use it.” To prove it, Étienne fishes out his own set of keys from the front pocket of his backpack and there, with Étienne’s set of house keys, Edward spots the keychain and key he had given Étienne the night before. The idea that the keys will be together – that the key to his place will be so readily accessible makes his heart flip this way and that.

 “You better; I would be extremely disappointed if you didn’t.”

 Étienne puts the keys back in the bag and then moves across the room to tackle Edward into a tight hug. Edward is only a little surprised and holds him close for a good long while.

 “Thank you, for absolutely everything,” Étienne tells him with all the sincerity of the world when they pull away slightly. “I promise I will call and do my best not to fall off the face of the earth.”

 “If you don’t, I swear I’ll find a way to track you down.” It might be a joke, but there is also truth behind the words. Edward will worry. It’s in his nature and he also genuinely wants his boyfriend to be all right. Not to spiral out of control and such. He hopes he won’t. He fears he will. Not because he doesn’t believe in Étienne, but because he knows how Étienne can get, despite his best intentions and the last thing he wants is for Étienne to feel as though he’s stuck in a situation he can’t get out of. Scared he’ll do something rash and irreversible. Scared Étienne won’t reach out to him and that he won’t be able to help.

 “Hey,” Étienne says and it brings him out of his own mental nightmare. Étienne reaches out for him and cards his fingers through his hair. Edward leans into the contact and lets out a deep breath. “I was going to take a shower,” He pauses for a moment and then offers him a kind smile, “Wanna join?”

 Edward chuckles, but nods and then gets up from the bed and follows Étienne to the washroom.

 --

 When they get to the airport and unload the car of Étienne’s luggage, the three of them hover by the truck, not really wanting to make it to the door of the airport, knowing that once they get there, this will truly be the end of this venture. It was agreed upon that Calvin would wait in the car, what with the new restrictions and not really knowing if “such a crowd” would be accepted. This way, at least, they can go through with the proper goodbyes without having to wear their masks or risk getting whisked away.

 “Y’know – if things quiet down some and we’re allowed to have fun again, you can come visit me this summer.” It’s a nice thought to have – something to look forward to, maybe and even if it doesn’t happen, it’s nice to know that Étienne wants him over and that he hasn’t grown tired of him after spending over a month and a half in his presence. “And – you’re invited too, Calvin – you’re both welcomed to my place any time, yeah?”

 He sounds a little unsure of himself, as if afraid he’s offering too much too soon but wanting to anyways and Edward’s heart swells. He’s ever so thankful that both Calvin and Étienne are trying. That they haven’t asked him to chose between one or the other and that they’re doing their best. He’d honestly feared at some point that it wouldn’t work out – that Calvin wouldn’t get it or that Étienne wouldn’t be able to get along with Calvin, but maybe even this little has helped the other two, in its own way. He can’t say that Calvin and Étienne have reached best friend status, but they’re slowly getting to know one another and it’s already a good enough start. With time, he hopes, they’ll get closer, but for now, he’s glad that the two men he loves most have decided that the best course of action is not to shun him for the way he feels about them both.

 “Yeah – I’d like that – it would be great to visit,” Calvin says, a little surprised by the invitation, but Edward can tell that he’s touched by it and would really like to visit as well.

 “Guess I’m off now, thanks again for everything,” Étienne reiterates for what feels like the millionth time that day. He steps up to Calvin first and Edward watches as Calvin goes for a handshake, but then Étienne swats his hand away and instead pulls him down for a hug. Calvin’s eyes widen in surprise, but then he quickly recovers and wraps his arms around Étienne’s waist.

 “Better take care of him, McCall. I know how to find you.” Étienne whispers to Calvin and Calvin knows that it’s a threat to be taken seriously.

 “Promise I will. You look after yourself as well – he needs you in his life too.”

 They part after that and after Calvin says goodbye to Mercury, Edward and Étienne, along with Mercury, head off towards the departures entrance. Étienne reaches out for his hand a few steps in and if they hold on to one another’s hands a little tighter than necessary, they don’t comment on it.

 “Text me when you get in?” Edward offers as a final platitude, trying to come up with something clever to say.

 “Text me whenever you think of me?” Étienne counters and Edward smiles and pulls him in for what might be the last hug for a long while.

 “Sure you can handle that many messages from me?”

 “From you, always.”

 Edward is, once more, taken aback – in all the good ways, by Étienne’s words and their sincerity. He settles instead for a caress to Étienne’s face and before his emotions get the best of him, he kneels in front of Mercury to say goodbye to her as well.

 “You take good care of him,” He tells her and whether or not Mercury understands, she acknowledges his recommendation by licking his face.

 “Come on, off with you, before you miss your flight.” He warns Étienne once he’s standing again.

 “I’m sure you wouldn’t object to that.”

 “I wouldn’t, but I know you really want to go home and – maybe the sooner you go, the sooner you’ll come back.”

 Étienne gives his hand a tight squeeze and finally, after a last goodbye, he heads towards security check.

 Edward watches them both go for a moment longer and waves to Étienne one last time, before he heads back towards the truck. He wonders if his heart will ever not feel this heavy when he’s at an airport with Étienne, but by the time he gets to the truck, he laughs when he finds a message on his phone from Étienne.

 “I know I’ve said it a million times, but really, thanks for everything. And not just this time. I’m really lucky to have you in my life. Miss you already and talk soon. I love you <3”

 His heart feels ever so full as he reads and re-reads the message and, as he gets into the truck, it gives him hope that really, things will end up working out.

 FIN

[everlastingcaptainswan]

Contractual Attraction (1/?) 

Enchanted Forrest AU 

Notes: Okay so I have been working on this for a while and I am super excited to share it with you guys! This is story is one of enemies to lovers filled with magic, war, betrayal, love, and loyalty.  I hope you guys like it. 

@teamhook here it is, hope you enjoy!

Thanks to @granny-snek-7673​ for help with the title! 

Summary: The war had raged on for many years, the people of Misthaven would say too many, and there was only one way to end it, only one way to quiet talks of rebellion. Princess Emma of Misthaven would have to marry the enemy, Prince Killian of Montave. 

FF           Ao3        

Chapter One: The Proposal 

Emma paced back and forth around the war room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her skirt flowing out behind her. There had to be another way. This simply could not be the way to end the war. He’s their enemy, their forces were in a stalemate and have been for months now, neither side showing any weakness. All the while men are dying on both sides. Far too much death. There had been talk in the villages if the war was even worth it anymore. The war against the kingdom of Montave had been dragging on for almost thirteen years now. Most of Emma’s life had been spent in wartime and not peace time. There were many ways to end a war, but Emma couldn’t imagine this could be the best way, the only way. 

Emma turned on her heel to face her parents. How Queen Snow and King David, the epitome of true love, could bring this to their own daughter was beyond Emma. The war had aged them significantly. Snow had salt and pepper hair and crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes that weren’t present when this war began. David’s blond hair had been able to hide the gray hair more efficiently, but he was injured in the early years of the war and required a cane to move about the castle. 

“There has to be another way!” Emma threw her hands in the air. This was not the answer to all their problems. It couldn’t be. 

“Emma,” her mother said reproachfully. 

“Whose idea was this anyway?” Emma’s eyes flitting between her mother and father. 

“Theirs, a message came from Queen Elsa,” David said, bitterness in every word. Elsa, who used to be their ally. That was until Montave surrounded Arendelle’s capital and Elsa surrendered to protect her people. She was married off to the King of Montave and Arendelle was absorbed into Montave. The castle was kept in Arendelle for Anna to live in, and supposedly the married couple visited her often. At least that was what the Misthaven spies reported. 

“That’s not what I was referring to, which one of you thought I should accept this?” Emma asked her father. 

“Emma, this war has to end. If it doesn’t the people will turn on us if they haven’t already. Everyday more men return home to be buried. They cannot take much more and I’m not sure I can either. This is the only clear way out!” Snow pounded her fist against the old oak table. Her mother’s words struck Emma. It seemed silly that a marriage could end a war, could lead them to peace, could change their world. 

“Emma, we always wanted you to choose like we did, but I’m afraid choices aren’t the same in wartime as they are in peacetime. We need you to marry him for the kingdom, but more importantly for our family. The people will revolt and kill us soon, if this is allowed to continue on,” David said sternly. Her shoulders slumped, if her father, her greatest protector, the biggest champion of her freedom was telling her to do this then there were no other options.

Emma looked down at her scarred, right arm, the black and blue markings trailing down from below her elbow to the palm of her hand. She clenched her fist before clearing her throat, “Send a message stating that I accept the terms of the treaty and will marry Prince Killian in an attempt to unify the kingdoms.” Relief washed over her parent’s faces, but before they could say another word Emma stormed out. 

 Emma left Misthaven two weeks later on a ship with a small crew and a couple knights headed for Arendelle. The two kingdoms agreed to meet there since David refused to send his only daughter to Montave’s capital. Emma was to sign the treaty in Arendelle as Misthaven’s representative, then return with Prince Killian for a royal wedding which would occur in the spring when the King and Queen of Montave could attend (Elsa is with child at the present moment and cannot travel outside of the kingdom in her current state). The thought made Emma’s stomach roll. She knew soon she’ll be expected to bear the prince’s children, they’ll be the future bloodline of Misthaven after all. She pushed the thought out of her mind for the moment. Many hard choices had been made in this war, but this choice had been the hardest of all for Emma. If this truly stopped the needless bloodshed, she’ll do it. The kingdoms had agreed to a ceasefire while the treaty was being signed, that gave her some small shred of peace.

Her knights, August and Graham were sent to ensure her safety. Graham had been adamant that this is an elaborate trap to kill Emma, heir to Misthaven’s throne. Emma still isn’t convinced it is a trap, but she definitely felt better with them by her side. 

Their journey was lengthened at sea when a storm threatened to capsize them. The ship’s crew is talented and vigilant and guided them through to the best of their ability. The ship met Arendelle’s shore just ten days after their departure from Misthaven. Emma nearly threw up when they docked because she finally has to meet her fate, she has to marry her enemy. Before the war she only met Montave’s royal family once and she barely remembered the dark-haired brothers who grew into their roles as Prince and King of Montave. She only knew them as her enemy, as the ones who killed her people, burned their crops, and sunk many of their ships. Now, she has to marry the enemy. She almost laughed at the notion still, it’s ridiculous that she has to marry a man who has caused such harm to her people. Perhaps he felt the same way about her though. 

Emma collected herself enough to place a tiara in her hair and pull on the white gloves to cover up her scars. She finally left the ship and found a welcome party comprised of Anna and her fiancé, Kristoff, a duke from up north who has improved ice trade with Montave’s capital. 

“Emma!” Anna cried out practically jumping up and down, “It’s been too long. You’re so beautiful! I’ve missed you and I know Elsa has too. You’ll see her at dinner. You brought knights?” Her rapid-fire speech screeching to a halt, one eyebrow lifted. 

“Anna, it’s good to see you. Yes, I did. Don’t worry your King approved them,” Emma said with her shoulders thrown back, her stance tall and head held high. 

“I’m not worried about that. Emma, you’re safe here, you didn’t need to bring them.” Anna shook her head in disbelief. Anna had always been a little naive, but Emma can’t believe that Anna had managed to keep that during the war. Of course, Emma needed them! Emma didn’t feel safe here. Not anymore, she’s in the middle of enemy territory. The war changed that. Montave changed that.  

“Your Highness, King David wanted to ensure Princess Emma’s safe passage. He meant no offense.” Graham kindly came to her defense when words failed Emma. Anna smiled at this. 

“Oh of course, how silly of me. By the way this is Kristoff,” Anna introduced them as they walked down the docks and toward the castle. Anna’s gaze kept flitting to gloves, curiosity growing.  

“Nice to meet you,” Emma nodded to him. 

“You as well, Anna has been excited about your arrival. She considers you a friend,” he said kindly. 

“I wasn’t sure after all this time, but I’m glad she does. I’ve always considered her and Elsa to be one as well.” Kristoff nodded and he and Anna led the way in. Anna still talking at a mile a minute. Graham and August fell in line with Emma. Graham’s hand brushed hers, catching her attention. 

“You can’t freeze like that again. This peace is fragile, and you will not die on my watch,” he whispered. 

“Her naivete surprised me, I don’t know how it lasted through the war. It won’t happen again.” Emma kept her gaze forward; she couldn’t look at him now. They stayed silent so Emma could answer all of Anna’s many, many questions. The eager princess led them through the castle doors. 

“I had them place you in the west wing, it has a beautiful view of the harbor and your knight’s room is next to yours of course. The west wing is also where Prince Killian’s rooms are,” Anna informed her. Emma nodded and made a mental note of that. She could feel the gears grinding in Graham’s head. 

“Have you met him before?” Anna asked her as they walked down a long hallway. 

“I think once when we were little at one of Ariel’s balls. Not that I remember much I couldn’t have been more than seven.” Emma frowned, unsure. They came to a stop at the end of the hallway. Emma’s room was the last door with Graham and August’s room being the one before hers. No sign of Prince Killian’s room, thankfully. 

“Oh well you’ll officially meet everyone at dinner. I’ll let you rest until then, it’s good to have you here.” Anna hugged her and Emma tentatively patted her back. Kristoff simply waved goodbye before vanishing with his fiancé. Graham and August led the way into Emma’s suite, clearing it making sure no one was lying in wait for her. When the door shut the three of them breathed a little easier. 

“So far no attempts on your life, that’s good,” August mumbled to himself. 

“They could be lulling us into a false sense of security. Keep your guard up,” Graham warned them.

“That’s enough,” Emma told them, “I’m going to lie down until dinner.” 

“Of course, Princess,” they both nodded before leaving her suite. None of her trunks were there yet so she’d have to wait to change into her gown for the night. Emma took off her tiara and set it on the vanity, hoping to catch a quick nap, hopefully that would help her collect herself. 

Graham insisted on walking her to dinner and Emma found it completely ridiculous and a little insulting. 

“Graham, I can walk on my own, do you think my future husband will strike me down the moment he meets me? They need this as much as we do.” Emma placed her tiara back on her head, the metaphorical weight of it bringing her down. 

“He might, cannot be too careful with these Montavians,” he bristled. Emma stood from her spot at the vanity, smoothing out her silk, pale green dress. She quickly pulled on the pearl colored gloves that covered the blue and black scars that creep up her arm.  

“You’re ridiculous, but fine do what you want.” Emma shook her head, unsure what had gotten into her most trusted knight. 

“I will do what it takes to protect you.” Emma had no response to this because she expected nothing less from him, he’s stubborn and not afraid of her and that was the exact reason her father sent him with her. They stalked out of her room in silence. They met no one along the way and don’t see a soul until they descend the grand staircase. The duo were directed by a valet to a sitting room with Anna, Kristoff, Elsa chatting in one corner and King Liam and Prince Killian whispering by the fireplace. All eyes rested on Emma. No one moved for what felt like several long moments. Emma stood before her enemies not on the battlefield as she had imagined many times, but in her old friend’s castle in a dress about to have dinner with them. The choices made in war will never stop shocking Emma. 

Anna clapped and rushed over to Emma, “Oh Emma, you’re beautiful! I mean of course you were earlier, but this dress is much nicer than your traveling one.” Oh, if only Anna knew how wrong she was, Emma thought to herself. Not many outside of Misthaven have seen her scars, not many knew how they marred her pale skin. 

“Princess, I’ll be leaving you now,” Graham whispered, and she nodded. The door clicked shut behind him and Emma turned back to the room. She noticed that Elsa stepped forward, one hand over a small baby bump. 

“Thank you, Anna. You look beautiful tonight as well,” Emma forced out a smile. Elsa held out a hand. 

“Old friend, how long has it been?” Elsa asked her as Emma moved forward and accepted her hand. Emma squeezed her hand. 

“Too long, you look well. Motherhood will suit you I can already tell.” In the past years she had missed Elsa dearly. Hopefully one good thing from this marriage will be she’ll gain back friends she thought were long lost. 

“You’re too kind,” Elsa blushed slightly before turning to her husband, “I’ll be making the introductions it seems. King Liam of Montave, Great Protector of the Sea and of course my husband this is Princess Emma, heir to Misthaven’s throne.” Liam walked forward, no emotion discernible on his face, his curly, dark hair is neatly trimmed, and his eyes are a piercing blue. Emma curtsied and Liam took Emma’s gloved hand in his. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty. Thank you for your warm welcome and generous hospitality,” Emma managed to get out without sounding hostile. He dropped her gloved hand gracefully. 

“You are most welcome, thank you for making the journey. Now, Killian will you please stop sulking by the fire and meet your bride,” Liam said only in the way an older sibling could. 

“There was no sulking, merely standing out of the way of His Majesty,” Killian jested as he swaggered up to the trio. Anna and Kristoff stood back, quietly watching and waiting. 

“Your Highness may I introduce, Prince Killian of Montave, Chief Commander of the Seven Fleets and your future husband,” Liam said slyly. Emma curtsied then Killian took her hand and brushed his lips across the back of her gloved hand. One of his hands had an expansive scar across the back of it. Emma almost laughed maybe they are more well matched than previously thought. Killian is a little shorter than his brother, his hair is straight where his brother’s is curly. His dark, almost jet-black hair somehow making his deep blue eyes seem brighter than possible. Everyone failed to mention how attractive the enemy was. 

“A pleasure, Princess. Ready to bring peace to the realm?” he asked her. 

“Yes, war is an ugly thing.” Killian dropped her hand and gave her an appraising look. A look that made one feel like they were about to be sold off to the highest bidder

“Elsa, you underplayed how beautiful she is,” he teased. Emma had to restrain her eye roll at his attempt at flattery. This was a political marriage he didn’t need to seduce her. Would he still want this marriage when he realized he was getting a scarred bride? Would the end of the war be worth it to him or did he merely want a pretty face? Elsa swatted at his arm. 

“Killian, I did no such thing and you know it.” That’s when it dawned on Emma that Elsa may not have been forced to marry into this family at all, she may have wanted it. Thankfully a valet came in and told them that dinner is ready. This was only the beginning of her trip and Emma knew it would take all her considerable wit and charm to make it home. 

[timehealsfanfictionbka]

Time Heals.....Chapter Forty-Eight

“Erin! Erica! Your parents are here!” Joyce exclaimed as she opened her front door to let Chris and Robyn inside. They each hugged her then moved to the living room. Joyce grabbed Robyn’s hand and tugged her towards the kitchen as Chris sat on the couch.

“Mama J is something wrong?” Robyn asked as she sat down at the island. Joyce moved back to the stove, stirred something in a pot then turned to lean on the island across from Robyn

“Mama?”

“Child, everything is fine. We haven’t girl-talked in a while so what’s going on?”

“Nothing really. We’re just taking everything one day a time.”

“One day at a time, huh? Guess I’m not getting any more grandbabies anytime soon.”

Robyn chuckled and shook her head, “we are nowhere near that, Mama.”

“Why not?”

“We’ve barely dug ourselves out the mud from our past, I think we should give it more than few weeks to make sure this is going the right way.”

“And what does Chris think?”

“Chris is thinking about marriage and I’m not there yet. He understands that.”

“What’s holding you back?”

“I spent my entire teenage years watching him chase girl after girl. Watched him get married and everything else. Me and Chris have been friends for years but we’ve never been lovers and we have to learn and get used to each other in those roles.”

“That’s understandable but-”

“Mama, I know you mean well and I’m honored that you want me to be your daughter in law but I’m not doing it until I’m sure it’s the right move for us.”

“Firstly, you are already my daughter in law and have been for years. Secondly, I just don’t want you guys to get comfortable shacking up and not making a full commitment.”

“Mama, we don’t live together.”

“That’s not what the twins told me.”

Robyn sighed, “Me and Chris had a bet and if I lost, I had to spend the week with him. That’s all.”

“Uh huh. He just trying to ease you into it.”

“Mama, that’s not it, I swear.”

“OK. How was the week?”

“It’s going good. Got a day or so left. He hasn’t driven me crazy like I expected and watching him with the girls is really cute.”

“That’s good. Think you’d do it again?”

“Probably not. I definitely don’t need him getting comfortable with me being around too much.”

“You could never be around too much. You know how much he loves you.”

“I know. He tells me every chance he gets.”

Joyce chuckled, “how are you feeling?”

“I’ve been ok. Working and taking care of the girls.”

“Taking care of yourself?”

“Working on it. Still training myself to leave my work at work and stop bringing stuff home.”

“I know how hard that can be. So before you two jet off, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“What you need, Mama?”

“I have an event that I’m catering and I need some help setting up.”

“That’s not a problem. When is it?”

“Saturday afternoon. I’ll only need you for about an hour or so.”

“Cool. Are you gonna need help taking things down or anything?”

“I don’t think so but I won’t know until that day, just in case something happens with some of my people.”

“That’s my free day so I’m available whenever.”

“You’re not gonna be with Chris?”

“Mama, I don't spend every weekend with Chris. Besides that’s his weekend to have the girls.”

“I’m surprised y’all even have them split up, it’s not like y’all aren’t dating.”

“Doesn’t mean I want him around 24/7 besides it’s more so he can have uninterrupted time with them.”

“Wait, so y’all don’t normally have the girls together?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“No, I just figured whenever he has them, you’re normally with them

“This week is the first week that we’ve had them together. I’m not gonna pretend like I don't like it but I also don't want the girls to get too comfortable with it happening. We aren’t married or living together so I don't want them to get the wrong idea.”

“You know how much they want you together.”

“I do but that doesn't change anything for me. I will always do what's best for my children and I give them what they want to a point. They are still children and have no idea how this works.”

“Well that is true.So since you have a day left what are you guys up to?”

:Tonight is my night to cook dinner so Chris is gonna drop me off at the house while he takes the girls shopping for art supplies.”

“I’m sure they’ll love that. How’s the family?”

“Good. My mother is begging for me to bring Chris out there but I don’t have the time right now.”

“I mean Spring Break is coming up soon, why not then?’

“We promised the girls to take them to Disney since they didn’t get to go to Italy with us.”

“Italy? Now how was that?”

Robyn giggled, “it was good. We needed to get away. I thought I told you about it.”

“Nothing outside the fact that yall went.”

“Oh I’m sorry about that, Mama. I could’ve sworn I spoke to you about it.”

“No need to apologize so how did things go?”

“Surprisingly well considering how it started.”

“What you mean?’

“Well Chris stopped speaking to me two weeks before the trip because we got into an argument.”

“Lord, that boy.”

“Mama, it was ridiculous. The first time I saw him was at the airport and the first time we had spoken since the two weeks.”

“Really? I’m surprised he didn’t just cancel the trip.”

“Same thing I said but after glaring at each other for an hour, we finally sat down and talked before we got to board the plane. I mean nobody wants to sit on a plane for thirteen hours to someone they’re mad at.”

“Very true. What was the argument about?”

“Him always buying and setting me up for stuff without asking. He planned this whole dinner and weekend night out which wasn’t too bad but then he called my job, requested time off and everything.”

“Wow.”

“Yes. And he never asked me if I had plans or anything, just started rearranging my life like it was nothing.

Joyce shook her head, “you know he meant well.”

“I know but I already told him how much I didn’t like when he did that and he kept doing it. It just needed to be addressed then he got all pissy about it and stopped talking to me like a child. It was just annoying.”

“I can imagine. But y’all made it by time you got to Italy, right?”

“Yea. He paid for this really pretty hotel room and we did some sightseeing and went to a few nightclubs. It was really nice. I got drunk and he had ot take care of me for a night but other than that, nothing major happened.”

“That’s great.”

“And the last night he rented a boat for an overnight stay on the water,” Robyn said as she grabbed her phone and opened her gallery to show Joyce the photos they had taken.

“Aww Angel, you guys look so beautiful and happy.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m glad everything went so well, you know going away with people can turn bad sometimes.”

“That was my biggest fear. I mean there were no kids to be a buffer for anything.”

“True. Have you learned anything about this week together?”

“Other than I can tolerate him for an extended period of time? No.”

Joyce laughed and rubbed Robyn’s hand, “I’m really proud of you two.”

“For what?”

“For how you’ve handled all of this. I’m especially proud of you.”

“I mean I didn’t really do anything.”

“Robyn, you did a lot and you know it. You put your anger aside and got way more than you expected but I’m glad to see you happy again. I missed that smile and that glow.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

“Thank me once I get some more grandbabies.”

Robyn chuckled and shook her head, “I wouldn’t have made it without you these past 8 years.”

“Angel, you’ve always been able to handle anything that’s why I never worried about you especially being with my son. I knew if anybody could train him, you could.”

Robyn laughed, “I’m trying, Mama. I’m trying.”

“Trying what?”

They both looked up to see Chris standing in the doorway of the kitchen with Erin and Erica handing his hands. Chris let them go and they rushed over to hug Robyn. She kissed their foreheads and held them to her side as Chris walked over to stand next to his mother. He kissed Joyce’s cheek and winked at Robyn, “what y’all been in here talking about?”

“You.” Joyce replied, “problem?”

“No Ma’am.”

“Just as I thought. You’re gonna have the girls tomorrow by yourself.”

“Why?”

“Robyn’s helping me with a catering job, I’ll probably need her all day.”

“And I get no say so. What if I had something planned?”

“Did you ask her?”

Robyn stifled her laugh as Chris gave her a look.

“I’m waiting on an answer, Christopher, “Joyce said.”

“No Ma’am, I didn’t ask her.”

“Then you don’t have anything planned. The twins told me that Robyn is spending the week with you.”

“She is. She’s supposed to be going home Sunday but I’m trying to get her to extend her visit.”

Robyn moved to lean her face into her palm as she rested her elbow on the island, “and how do you purpose you do that?”

“I’ll figure something out by Sunday,” Chris replied as he kissed her fingers and pressed them to her lips, “you ready to go?”

Robyn blushed, “yea, I don’t want y’all to miss the art store.”

“They’re open on the weekend so if we miss them today, we can go tomorrow.”

“Did you decide what you want for dinner?”

“You took out some steaks right?”

“Yea.”

“That works for us. Do you need anything while we’re out at the store?”

“I don’t think so.”

Chris hugged Joyce, “well Mommy, we’re gonna get going back to the house. You need anything?”

“Nope, I’m good. It’s always good to see my babies.”

Robyn hugged Joyce then kissed her cheek before moving back so the twins could say goodbye. A few moments later they were on their way home.

Robyn looked back at the twins and noticed they were busy on their tablets with their headphones in.

“Chris?”

“Yes Baby?”

“Did you have something planned for this weekend?”

“Oh no. I was just picking with my mama. I told you that I would start asking before planning so I would’ve let you know.”

“Ok.”

“Did you want to do something this weekend?”

“Not really, I was just wondering if you said that for a reason.”

“Nope. You ok?”

“I’m good. You?”

“Great. Were you and my mother really talking about me?”

“Yea, don’t we always?”

Chris laughed, “you weren’t trying to get me in trouble or nothing, were you?”

“Of course not. Besides I don’t need Mama’s help to discipline you. I can handle this.”

“You haven’t been letting me handle you all week.”

“This week wasn’t supposed to be about sex, remember?”

“I meant that for our date night, I did not anticipate it applying to the whole week.”

“When we get time alone, we'll talk about it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Chris pulled into the driveway and parked before leaning over to kiss Robyn’s lips, “we’ll be back in a little bit. It shouldn’t take long.”

“We got time, Babe, no need to rush back.”

“If you need anything, just call me and I’ll get it, ok?”

“Yes Sir.”

Chris rolled his eyes, “Get out, Robyn.”

She chuckled as she poked his dimple then climbed out of the car. Once she closed the door behind her, Chris pulled out of the driveway and left.

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

Robyn frowned as she went through the playlist Chris had his stereo system set up to. The R&B music she played during her shower was cool but she needed something of a slower tempo to cook to. She preferred a quieter sound once it started to get dark outside. She scrolled through his library and saw he had a Jazz playlist.

She shrugged her shoulders and pressed play.

“When did Chris start listening to Jazz?” She murmured to herself as Charlie Parker’s I’m In A Mood for Love came through the speakers.

She pulled her hair up into a ponytail as she left into the kitchen to start cooking.

As Diana Krall crooned, Robyn swayed her hips and put seasoning on the freshly steamed vegetables she was taking out of the steamer. She giggled as she felt arms wrap around her waist and the body attached to them started to sway with her.

“I can hardly wait to hold you. Feel my arms around you. How long I have waited. Waited just to love you,” Chris sang softly in her ear.

“Where’s the girls?’

“Upstairs, putting their stuff away.”

“You didn't need to help them?”

“Nope but I really much want to help you. You need something?”

“A kiss would be nice.”

“Would be my pleasure.”

Chris turned Robyn around to face him and smiled, “hi.”

“Hi Christopher,” Robyn replied as she settled more comfortably against the counter. Chris smoothed the back of his hand against her cheek and she blushed, “are you gonna kiss me yet?”

“In a minute. Just wanna look at you for a second.”

“Chris, our children will be back down here any minute.”

“So? You don’t want them to see me kissing their mommy?”

“Not if you're gonna kiss me like you normally do.”

Chris chuckled and leaned in so their noses touched, “I missed you today.”

“You did?”

“I did.”

“That’s interesting since it’s only been a few hours.”

“I know but I really like coming home to you.”

“Don’t get too attached, Mr. Brown.”

“I’m trying not to but it’s hard, you know.”

“I can agree with that.”

“So you do like being here?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Always gotta be a smart ass.”

They paused in silence for a moment and Chris smiled before grabbing her hand to pull her from against the counter, “I like this song. Dance with me.”

“Chris, I have to finish-”

“Robyn, everything is finished, even I can see that. Don’t be a party pooper.”

Robyn sighed as Chris pulled her into his chest and they started to sway around the kitchen together.

“And since when did you start listening to Jazz?”

“You pick up a lot of habits hanging with older people.”

Robyn giggled, “this is a good song though. What’s it called?”

“My Funny Valentine by Chet Baker.”

“Nice.”

“I don’t know how I'm gonna do this.”

“Do what?”

“Let you go home Sunday.”

Robyn smiled as she took her free hand and pressed her palm against his cheek, “you’ll do it because you trust that I’ll come back.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier letting you go.”

“Am I gonna have to sneak out on Sunday?”

“You might.”

Robyn laughed and pecked his lips, “It feels good to be wanted, I will say that.”

“I always want you, you know that.”

“I know.”

“So what’s for dinner?”

“Steak with baked potatoes and steamed vegetables.”

“With curry seasoning?” Chris said with a raised brow.

“Yes with curry seasoning. You are addicted to that stuff, huh?”

“What? It’s really good, Babe and I can’t duplicate it to save my life.”

“I can’t either. Mama Fenty makes a huge batch and mails it to me.”

“Really? I thought you made it up.”

“Nah, it’s all Mama.”

“I need to ask her for the recipe.”

“Good luck, you might be able to charm it out of her because I sure haven’t been able to.”

“If I do, I’ll share with you.”

“You better.”

Chris pressed his cheek to hers, “you going to bed early?”

“No. Why?”

“I want to show you something after dinner.”

“That works for me.”

Chris kissed her cheek and tucked his face into her neck. Robyn giggled as his breath blew over her skin, “Babe, where are our children? They should’ve been down here already.”

“I don’t know. They’re in the house so it’s not a big deal.”

“Chris, they do need to eat.”

“You wanna go get them?”

“We’re already here, Daddy,” Erin said

They pulled apart and saw Erin and Erica sitting at the kitchen table with plates in front of them.

“How long have y’all been in here?”

“A few minutes,“ Erica replied, “y’all were really cute dancing.”

Robyn pressed her face into Chris’s chest as she laughed.

“Y’all could’ve said something,” Chris replied, “you ready to eat?”

“Yes.”

Robyn moved to the refrigerator as Chris grabbed the steaks and placed them on the table, “Babe, can you put the vegetables on the table too?”

“Got it.”

Robyn set two bottles of juice on the table then sat next to Erin. Chris set down the platter of vegetables and baked potatoes before sitting next to Robyn, “you wanna say grace?”

“Can I do it, Daddy?” Erica asked.

“Sure Sweetie.”

“Everybody hold hands,” Erica waited until they were all holding hands before closing her eyes, “God, thank you for this food. Thank you for my family. Thank you for my sister and for bringing my Daddy into our lives. Thank you for helping my Mommy to come home and for the best week of my life. We say thank you for all this in Jesus name. Amen.”

[emospritelet]

Twisted Fate - prompt #1: It's all my fault.

Chapter 11 is up, in which Belle and Gold go shopping. Please send me a prompt from this list or this list to fuel the angst and smut

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] 

[AO3]

x

When she had found out that she was pregnant, Belle had gone through a range of emotions. The first was panic, closely followed by denial, then by bitter anguish. She had spent much of the day of the test results crying in the university restrooms and lamenting the day she had ever decided to go to bed with Alexander Gold. For a brief moment, she had been tempted to call him to give him the news, just so he could share in some of her misery, but the thought of his cold disdain was too much to face, especially after her father had practically disowned her.

She had made up her mind almost immediately that she would keep the baby, which was one less decision to fret over, but that meant that a number of other choices had to be made, and made quickly. She had the test result confirmed, was given an approximate due date, and had talked to the university about deferring completion of her studies once the baby arrived. She had sought advice from Emma about what to expect throughout pregnancy, had read every book on the subject that she could find, and had tried to ensure that she ate a balanced diet. When she could keep her food down. Overall, she felt that she was about as well-prepared for motherhood as a single woman in her early twenties making minimum wage and with no family to support her could be. Which was not very prepared at all.

Belle had assumed that having Gold tell her categorically that he intended to help out both financially and physically with the baby would make her relax, but in reality it only caused her more anxiety, and she was unsure why that was. Certainly having the apartment had given her some security, and waking up in its large and comfortable bed every morning was like letting out a deep, calming breath. She was free of the constant worry over money and making ends meet, of the landlord knocking at the door to demand rent that she didn’t have. And yet, she still felt an ongoing, exhausting sense of stress, an acidic ball of iron that had settled in her belly and refused to leave. 

He was true to his word, picking her up from outside the university in his Cadillac and driving her to the new clinic for her check-up. Belle sat in silence, hands folded in her lap as they went, and once they had parked up Gold offered her his arm. Taking it felt strange, but she tried to put it from her mind, focusing on the doors of the clinic, and beyond them the gleaming waiting area with its plush leather seats and fresh coffee. 

There was paperwork to fill out, and tests to be run, but it was nothing she hadn’t been through before. Gold seemed anxious as the doctor held the consultation with her, but Belle was unfazed by the questions asked and the measurements taken. She had expected this first visit to take a little longer, given that she was a new patient. Dr Jekyll was a nervous-looking man who blinked a lot, but he seemed to know what he was talking about.

“Well, the baby seems to be developing as expected,” he said at last. “You’re a little underweight, though. You could do with eating a little more, if you can manage it.”

“I’ve been trying to tell her that,” put in Gold, and Belle glared at him.

“Yeah, well, there’s only so many hours in the day,” she muttered. “I have work and study to take care of, alongside everything else.”

“Then try to make sure you get as much nutrient-dense food as possible,” said Dr Jekyll kindly. “Carry snacks with you as you go about, and make sure you don’t go too long between meals. Building a baby is hard work, you need to make sure your body has the fuel it needs.”

“I’ll try to feed her up,” said Gold.

“Good, good,” said Jekyll vaguely, looking at his notes. “I don’t expect there to be much change between now and next week, but try to make sure she eats a range of quality foods, not just sugar.”

Belle bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from snapping at both of them.

“Well, the good news is there’s not long to go now,” said Jekyll, peering at his computer screen. “You’re due on May fifth, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“A spring baby,” he said, glancing at her over the top of his glasses. “This cold weather will have cleared up by then. A little sunshine to welcome the new light in your life.”

He smiled at her, and Belle couldn’t help smiling back. Yes. She was looking forward to the baby being born. Quite how it would change her relationship with its father was still to be seen.

x

After the doctor’s appointment, they went to buy paint. Belle had chosen the colours she wanted: lilac and pale blue for the nursery and terracotta for the kitchen. She hadn’t made a decision on the lounge and bedrooms yet, and Gold said it could wait until she was sure. He bought paint trays, rollers and brushes, along with a set of painting overalls for her to wear and several large sheets to spread over the floors and furniture.

“Thanks,” she said, as they packed everything into the trunk of the car. “You know how clumsy I am. I’ll probably track paint all over the apartment without these.”

“I could still get professionals in to paint the walls,” he said.

“Thanks, but I’d like to do it myself,” she said. “It - it would help to make the place feel more like mine, you know?”

“I understand.”

Gold closed the trunk, taking a step back.

“I can always help you out, if you like,” he ventured, but she shook her head.

“Emma and Neal have already said they’ll help,” she said. “We’re gonna have kind of a paint-the-apartment party this weekend.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Well, if there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”

He flashed her a brief smile, the light catching in his eyes. He looked very handsome with his short hair, and she looked away, pain making her mouth twist. She hadn’t been lying when she told him she couldn’t move past him. How long would it take for her to fall out of love with him? Forever, she imagined, if he continued to act like a decent human being. Damn him.

x

As the afternoon wore on, he continued to treat her with a gentle solicitude, insisting on taking her for tea at a nearby deli and watching as she ate a piece of pumpkin pie with cream that had been laced with cinnamon and whipped to soft peaks. Pumpkin pie probably wasn’t what Dr Jekyll had had in mind when he told her to eat more, but it was so delicious she didn’t really care. Gold waved away her offer to share, merely drinking a black coffee, and she wondered if he had appointed himself her nutritionist. Chief engineer of the baby-making machine. The thought made her frown to herself, but it didn’t stop her from eating the pie.

After the deli, Gold took her to a large department store that she had never before set foot in due to the prices. Inside was a beautiful glittering paradise of sleek synthetic marble and polished wood, filled with the scents of hundreds of perfumes and toiletries. The baby section was large, a sea of pink and blue and white, and she felt out of place in her scuffed boots and five-year-old coat, although she tried not to let it bother her.

Gold seemed almost animated by the shopping trip, having lengthy discussions with the sales staff about items to purchase and displaying a surprising amount of knowledge about what babies needed. Belle largely left him to it, wandering along behind him with the little shopping cart and only giving input when he asked. They agreed on a set of furniture in pale grey and white, a chest of drawers and dresser with a large, well-cushioned chair in which she could sit and feed the baby. It was a strange thing to think of, that the child inside her would very soon be on the outside, in her arms and looking for her to feed it and keep it safe. It was overwhelming if she thought about it too much, so she tried to put it from her mind. Low-level terror over being responsible for a tiny human would have to wait.

“So, the furniture can be delivered on Wednesday afternoon,” he said, making her look up. “Is that alright?”

“Uh - can we make it Thursday?” she asked. “I have to work Wednesday.”

“Ah. Well, how about next week?” he asked. “You’ll have stopped working by then, right?”

“Right.”

“And I suppose it’ll be better, because the nursery will have been painted,” he added. “You can just take everything for the baby in there, rather than store it elsewhere in the apartment.”

“Right,” she repeated.

“I’ll tell them when it comes to paying for everything,” he said. “Let’s keep looking.”

He hurried off with what was almost a spring in his step, and she watched him go, a wave of sadness washing over her. She became more withdrawn as they made their way around the section, and responded with unenthusiastic murmurs to his suggestions. Gold eyed her with a slight frown on his face at first, which made her bristle, although she tried not to show it. 

“I have a crib,” she told him, as he was looking over the third one that afternoon. “Emma was going to lend me Henry’s.”

“Our child doesn’t need hand-me-downs,” he said dismissively. “Besides, what if she chooses to have another baby? She’ll need it back.”

“I think that’s highly unlikely in the middle of her studies, don’t you?”

“I think babies come when they come,” he replied.

Belle sighed, and left him to it, merely nodding when he asked if she agreed with his choice. She could feel herself getting ever more anxious and resentful, and while she told herself that he was stepping up and supporting her as she had wanted, and that she was therefore being unreasonable, she couldn’t seem to shake her negativity. The reactions of the staff didn’t help.

“Are you and your husband finding everything okay?” chirped the third sales assistant in ten minutes, as Belle pawed listlessly through a rack of romper suits. Gold was some way ahead, his free arm filled with clothing in a myriad of colours.

“We’re not married,” she said coldly, and the sales assistant beamed.

“Oh, sorry! Still, plenty of time for that. I guess you’ve been concentrating on preparing for baby, right?”

“I’ve mostly been concentrating on not killing him,” said Belle flatly, and flourished one of the suits. “Do you have this in any other colours?”

“Uh - let me check out back.”

The sales assistant wandered off, and Belle heaved a sigh of relief.

“What about these?”

She looked around to see Gold holding up a pair of patterned booties with pom-poms hanging from strings. He shook them at her, a wide smile on his face as the pom-poms bounced.

“Adorable, hmm?” he said. “How could you resist them?”

“What are you doing?” she demanded, and he looked puzzled.

“Picking out baby things.”

“No,” she said. “No, I mean - I mean what are you doing?”

His confusion only seemed to increase.

“I don’t understand.”

“Forget it,” she sighed, snatching the booties off him and dropping them in the cart.

She could feel him staring after her as she walked off, but to give him his due he soon caught her up, dropping his choices into the cart and making quiet suggestions as to other things they might need. It felt as though he had picked up on her mood and was trying to placate her, which only made her more irritated, and then annoyed at herself for being irrational. It was a relief when he announced that they probably had enough to be going on with, and went to pay for everything. She was silent on the way back to the apartment, and the atmosphere between them was heavy and dark, making her feel awkward as she plucked at the skin on the back of her hand: a nervous, repetitive gesture. 

Gold could sense that Belle was annoyed with him, although he wasn’t sure why that was, other than the massive fuck-up that had led to them being in this situation in the first place. She didn’t seem to want to talk about it, though, and he didn’t know what to say, so he endured the painful silence on the journey back to her apartment. He helped her carry up the tins of paint and the bags of brushes and rollers, and she thanked him quietly as he set them on the kitchen counter. She had stepped back, towards the window with its view over the park, and was looking out of it and chewing her lip.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” he asked, his voice seeming loud in the tense silence, and she shook her head. He heaved a sigh.

“Belle, you seem upset with me,” he said wearily. “I don’t know why, besides the obvious, so can you please tell me what I’ve done?”

“You haven’t done anything.”

It was said automatically, and in something of a monotone. He wasn’t sure she believed it any more than he.

“Please,” he said again. “I know this is a difficult time for you, and I know the baby’s arrival must be making you nervous, so if there’s anything I can do…”

He left it hanging, hoping she would help him out and tell him what she needed. Belle seemed to wriggle uncomfortably, sucking her teeth a little.

“It’s - it’s hard,” she said eventually.

“I know,” he said carefully. “That’s why I’m trying to make sure you have as little to worry about financially as I can, and why I wanted to get everything the baby might need.”

“No,” she said. “It’s hard - it’s hard having you around.”

She wasn’t really looking at him, her eyes darting furtively to him and then away, her shoulders hunched a little. It felt as though a heavy weight had lodged in his throat and was making its way slowly down towards his stomach.

“Oh,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else. You’re a fucking idiot. Of course it’s hard. Why would she want the person who broke her heart back in her life? Moron!

“It feels—” Belle screwed up her nose, glancing away. “It’s like when we’re out shopping together and people treat us like we’re a married couple or something, and it’s like a slap in the face every damn time.”

“Why do you care what people think?”

“That’s not the point…” She ran her hands over her face. “It’s not what they think, it’s - it’s what it is. Maybe I’m not explaining it all that well. I’m not sure I even know what I mean.”

“Okay,” he said, bewildered. “Well, in that case, why don’t you tell me what you need?”

“I need you to go,” she said decidedly, nodding.

The weight settled in his lower belly, spreading outwards and anchoring his feet to the floor.

“Right,” he said, his voice hollow. “Right. Then I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

She was hugging herself now, arms folded protectively over the top of her swollen belly. He wanted to hug her himself, to take her in his arms and hold her close, to offer her comfort and reassurance. It hit him hard in the gut, a painful, breathtaking blow as he realised that he had never done so. Not once. He tried to think of a time when he had shown her some intimacy without them having sex, and couldn’t. God, no wonder she hated him! He swallowed hard, his mouth dry.

“Can I still take you to your next appointment?” he asked, his voice sounding eerily calm in his head, and she nodded.

“Of course.”

“There’s still the matter of seeing my lawyer,” he went on. “Perhaps we can schedule them both for the same day.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Right,” he said, for what felt like the hundredth time. “Then I’ll see you next Monday.”

She nodded again, dark curls bouncing around her shoulders, still hunched against him, shutting him out.

“I’ll go back to Storybrooke,” he added, figuring it would do her good to know he wouldn’t be in the city. That he wouldn’t be haunting her, stalking her from the shadows as she tried to go on with her life.

“Thank you,” she said again, and hesitated. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologise,” he said, his tone wry. “It’s all my fault, after all.”

She hung her head a little, as though she agreed with him, but didn’t want to say it aloud. He could feel his hand beginning to ache from gripping the cane handle, and loosened his grip. 

“Well,” he said. “I’ll see myself out.”

She nodded, giving him one final glance. Her blue eyes were filled with sadness, and guilt, and regret. He could feel his own emotions rising up inside him, wanting to burst out and drown him, and so he nodded stiffly and turned away, heading for the door with a slow and heavy tread. She needed space. He could give her that, at least.

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Summer in New York--Ch. 4

Chapter 4

           “Are you sure you’re up for this?” Chris asked, a faint smile on his bearded face. His hair was a little longer than I’d ever seen it. He’d spent the last month in South Africa filming a new movie, and he’d come back tanned and scruffy-haired. In a way, I would hate to see it all disappear.

           “Of course,” I said, settling one hand on the wide curve of my belly. The spring had quickly bled into summer, the days lengthening even as my belly began expanding. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

           He leaned against the counter, drying his hands with a bright blue towel. His blue eyes went slightly sad. “Last time, it didn’t go so well.”

           My heart lurched even as I moved to put my arms around his waist. “I know. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make it right, Chris. They’re your family, and I want to be part of that.”

           Chris sighed, taking me gently by the shoulders and pushing me back so that he could look me in the eyes. “You are part of my family now, Tati. And I think they understand things better now.”

           “Even if they don’t like me… they’ll love her, right?” There was no hiding the nervousness that turned my voice small.

           “They do like you, Tati. And they are going to love you, just like they did before. And when this one shows up,” he said, pressing his palm on the side of my belly, “they’re going to be the most loved baby in the world. I promise.”

           Smiling, I leaned my forehead against his. For a brief, perfect moment, time stood still.

---

           I stared at myself in the mirror, surprised to find that I looked almost normal again. True, my face was a little puffy and I could tell I’d gained weight, but my eyes weren’t as sad as they’d been during those long weeks without Chris. The smile on my face wasn’t a fake. For the first time in a very long time, I felt happy again.

           After wriggling into some leggings and pulling one of Chris’ Henley shirts over my head, I took the time to braid my hair and wrap it up around the top of my head. My face showed pink and clean after a quick scrub. I looked ready to face the Evans family once again.

           I heard them coming in downstairs—first Lisa and Scott, their voices muffled as they spoke quietly with Chris. There was a faint huffing followed by Chris’ excited voice. I assumed it was Dodger.

           When there wasn’t much else I could do to calm my nerves, I took a deep breath and headed down the hall to the stairs that emptied out in the living room. Chris sat next to his mom, Dodger’s head resting on his knee while his ears got scratched. Scott wasn’t far away, sitting on the arm of one of the battered sofas we’d brought from the “bro-pad.” It took a moment for them to notice me, even if I did come waddling down the stairs with a good bit of groaning.

           Scott was the first to see me. His easy smile momentarily slipped away, hidden behind a furrowed brow and worried eyes. It was gone and back again in the blink of an eye. In its place was a faint, polite smile—as if we’d never met before.

           “Good to see you again, Tatiana,” he said coolly.

           I forced myself to smile, to make it as genuine as possible. “You too,” I replied. “Would you like something to drink? I think there’s some leftovers from the spaghetti we made last night for dinner if you’re hungry.”

           “No, thanks. I ate before I got here.”

           I bit the inside of my lip, trying hard not to cry. Where once Chris’ family had welcomed me as one of their own, suddenly there was this feeling of being entirely on the outside. It was as if they were happy with me when I was just Sebastian’s cousin, visiting from overseas. A winter-time fling. Perhaps what happened when spring came around had soured them on me, but it seemed that the moment they heard the words baby and marriage they began to suspect the absolute worst of me.

           Did they honestly think that I had done all of this just to move to America? I had a life I was proud of back in Constanta. Yes, it had been quiet and small, but it had been mine and it meant something to me. The only reason I would ever have given that up was because of Chris and how I felt about him.

           Chris glanced up just as Dodger wriggled out of his grasp. The dog bounded over to me, his tail wagging and his jaws agape in a canine smile. He bumped his nose against my shin, then looked up for confirmation that he was, in fact, a very good boy.

           I reached down to pat him on the head, unable to do anything more while I was still on my feet. Satisfied that he’d gotten approval, Dodger began to sniff at my belly, leaving dark spots of drool wherever he went. I giggled. It tickled.

           “Hey, Dodger,” I said, a truly happy smile on my face for the first time that night. I flopped into a wide chair and leaned as far forward as I could, cradling his face in my palms as my fingers scratched just under the bottom of his ears. His tongue lolled, big doe eyes closing in contentment. “I’ve missed you, buddy.”

           “He’s missed you, too, momma,” Chris said from a few feet away. His blue eyes danced, even as his brow furrowed in a silent question of concern. I wondered if he could see how my fingers trembled, how it was only Dodger’s warm presence that kept me from going to pieces just then. “It’ll be good to have him here with us.”

           I glanced up, trying to even out some of my joy. “Oh, but won’t Stella and Miles miss him?”

           “They can come visit. And we’ll bring him when we head to Sudbury,” he replied, his steady voice a balm to my frayed nerves. It was a wonder the baby didn’t sense my terror. Perhaps he did, but he was just as strong as his dad.

           “Tatiana,” Lisa said at last. She turned away from her son, facing me with her hands splayed out on her knees. She looked so perfectly motherly, just as she had the first time we’d met when Chris had brought me up for a visit that first time. “I’m very sorry about how things happened the last time you visited. It wasn’t fair of us to have any conversation like that without you and it’s embarrassing that we let ourselves think that way. You make Chris happy, and that’s all that matters.”

           The words were kind, and I was relatively sure that she meant them. But I couldn’t help how hurt I’d been that night. How hurt I still felt.

           “Go ahead, Tati,” Chris coaxed softly. “You can say whatever you need to say. We’re going to figure this out.”

           I sighed, drew a deep breath, burrowed my fingers into Dodger’s warm fur. “What did I do to make you think that I… that I didn’t love Chris?”

           Lisa looked away, clasped her hands together in her lap. “Oh honey, we never thought that. You were never anything but good to him, even when you two had your little… misunderstanding. It all happened so fast, to be honest. Chris, well, when he loves, he goes all in. Quickly. And after everything that’s happened to him… none of us want to see him hurt like that again. So I think we just assumed the worst and tried to talk him out of it so he wouldn’t get the raw end of it, you know? But we didn’t do a very good job. Instead, he ended up going weeks without speaking to any of us. As a family, we messed up, Tatiana. And we’re sorry.”

           Bile rose against the back of my throat. I didn’t know whether I wanted to vomit or scream. Instead, I looked directly at Scott, who had been so very quiet. “You feel the same way?”

           Chris sat up a little straighter, puffing out his chest. Dodger growled low in his chest, the rumbling sending soothing vibrations through my fingers.

           “I overreacted,” Scott replied, deadpan.

           I glanced at Chris. It seemed as if his shoulders had gotten even broader as he straightened. Something heavy sank into my stomach—the realization that I’d never be completely accepted by the Evans family now. Not with Scott as such a staunch holdout, regardless of how Shannon and Carly felt.

           “You acted like an idiot is what you did,” Lisa said firmly. She looked back at me. “Honey, I completely understand if you think we’re the worst sort of people. This has made me think that perhaps we’ve got a bit of soul searching to do as a family. But I want you to know—and I mean every bit of it—that I am so happy to have you here with us. And if you and Chris want us to be, we’ll be part of your lives as much as you’ll let us. I promise you both that we will be better.”

           Chris rested a gentle hand on his mom’s shoulder. I blinked back tears, trying to find the right words to say. I didn’t want Scott to think that his behavior was forgiven, but I didn’t want to be one of those people who holds a grudge. If Scott continued to have a problem, then it would be his problem and not mine.

           “I think that’s wonderful,” I said at last. Dodger harrumphed before plopping down onto the floor, his warm body settled over my feet.

           Lisa started to cry, just a little, and I couldn’t help but get misty eyed myself. Chris gave me a faint smile and a whispered thank you before getting up to bring the two of us something to drink. Scott sat on the arm of the chair looking less than happy, but it didn’t matter. As long as Chris and his mom were good, I could deal with just about anything.

________________________________________________________________

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[drawacharge]

so this started off as a drabble inspired by @hoppnhorn’s fic where hopper sees steve & billy fucking on camera lol read it here and turned into that + like a slight hopper introspective?? which i didn’t mean to do but whatever, enjoy anyway???

He’s late.

He’s late because he’s still technically on the clock and caught Tommy Hill speeding so he had to pull the kid over, give him the Required Lecture, and stick him with a ticket that his father would just pay off. Hopper would have loved to just over look it this time, but Hawkins is small as shit and the last thing he needs is the teenagers to stop fearing him. According to Joyce’s oldest son everyone thinks he’s made up of pure anger and spite.

Really, he’s just exhausted. 

And like. Maybe he enjoys terrorizing the teenagers of Hawkins just a little bit. But no one can prove it, so.

Anyway, it means he arrives at the cabin late, to a pouting little girl whose arms stay glued across her chest during the entire car ride to the Byers’. 

Thing is, Hopper’s trying, he really is. It’s just.

Being a cop-- much less the chief of police-- is kind of an unpredictable job, even in Hawkins, but Jane’s only twelve so she doesn’t get that. She just sees a guy who keeps breaking promises. A guy who kept her locked away in a remote cabin in a thick forest for an entire year, after she was kept captive her entire fucking life by some psycho scientist. 

But he’s trying.

He’s been looking at places to live that aren’t in the middle of fucking no where. He’s been going through the motions to sign her up for school. He’s been letting her see her friends more. He’s even been fucking reading Lord of the Rings to her at night, because her friends bought the series for her and her reading comprehension isn’t there yet. 

And it’s a boring fucking book, so.

Like, seriously. Ninety percent of it they’re just walking. 

He even does voices. 

Two weeks ago, she went to the mall for the very first time and he let her buy whatever she wanted. She chose a pink dress-- which like, fine, whatever-- but she also really wanted a leather jacket that was kind of too expensive but Hopper bought it for her anyway. He sacrificed a months’ worth of buying beer for it. Not that she knows that.

She also bought a stuffed teddy bear because she said it reminded her of him, which was... kind of cute. She named it Jim, too, which is less cute and more confusing, but whatever. 

A month before that was the start of summer and she went to the quarry for the first time. Jane doesn’t have the best history with deep water, so she spent the first hour clinging to either Hopper or Mike, making them promise to not let go. But, eventually, she explored on her own.

With floaties on her arms, of course.

So, yeah, he’s trying. But.

He still feels a little bit like a failure. He’s still too angry, too impatient. His voice still gets too loud even when he doesn’t mean for it to. 

Couple weeks ago, he confessed to Joyce over a midnight joint that he felt like he was becoming like his father. Joyce-- who vividly remembered Hopper’s father from when they were teenagers-- looked positively offended at the notion and went, “Don’t be ridiculous, Hop. You’re nothing like him.” Which, like, yeah.

He doesn’t hit the kid. He doesn’t tell her that she was worthless, or stupid. He’d rip out his own tongue or cut off his own hands before ever doing any of those things, but.

That doesn’t mean he’s a good dad. 

And, christ, that kid deserves a good fucking dad. A great one. A god damn superhero, even.

And that’s... not him. 

But he’s trying.

So, she doesn’t talk to him the whole way there, but, when she hops out of the car she still takes the time to hug his hip before grabbing her bag and running in. It’s stupid how much better that makes him feel.

By the time he follows in behind her, she’s in the living room talking excitedly to Mike about something or other. He’s looking at her with his stupid googoo eyes and Hopper-- not for the first time-- wants to kill the kid just a little bit, because his girl is too fucking young to have some twerp sniffing at her heels, but she likes him too apparently.

Besides, if Hopper learned anything from his teenage years it’s that the more parents don’t like a boy, the more the girl does.

( something he used to his advantage far too much back then )

Everyone’s there already, but not everyone’s staying. Henderson is talking too loud-- basically yelling-- in front of Steve Harrington, going, “C’mon, why do you wanna go to a party with him instead of hanging with us--” and the him in question here is Billy Hargrove, who is standing a little farther back from everyone else, closer to the door. Hopper can’t help but agree with Henderson’s sentiment, even if the thinks the kids are just headaches waiting to happen. But.

He doesn’t like Hargrove. The only adults who do, seem to be housewives, but Hopper’s reasoning is a little different from everyone else’s. 

See, Hargrove reminds Hopper too much of himself at his age. He seems angry all the time, rage bubbling underneath his skin like he’s always looking for an excuse to lash out. He walks through the town like it belongs to him, flirts with housewives even though he’s a fucking kid. Sometimes it’s like Hopper’s looking in a fucking mirror. Shit, even some of the rude shit he says reminds Hopper of the shit he’d say at his age. Closed minded kind of shit. 

You’d probably think all these similarities would make him more empathetic to the kid but, nah, not really. 

Maybe, if his kid didn’t like him. Maybe, if he wasn’t starting to hang around the group of people Hopper has almost died to protect twice now.

People Hopper would still die to protect in an instant. People he cared about. People he kind of considered family.

Right down to the rich kid who used to be a real fucking thorn in his side.

( still was, on occasion )

He’s been able to stand Harrington a lot more after he started dating Nancy Wheeler. She was a sweet kid and kept him out of trouble, influenced him to be good rather than the party boy he was before her. They weren’t together anymore, and while Hopper never gave enough of a shit to find out why, he was worried that’d mean Harrington would go back to his old ways. 

So far he hasn’t, not really, but he did start hanging around Hargrove sometime in the spring. 

Unlike everyone else, Hopper wasn’t too surprised when they started hanging out. It wasn’t unusual for two guys their age to get into it then end up becoming friends some time later. If Hopper hadn’t been friends with anyone he fought at their age he wouldn’t of had any friends. Boys will be boys. They’ll fight, they’ll draw blood, and after that they’ll get a fucking beer and forget about it. Shit, even grown men did that from time to time. 

But, Hargrove could easily be the catalyst that makes Harrington go back to his old ways. It hasn’t happened, but--

“What’s this about a party?” He sounds gruff, but when Harrington turns around he smiles at Hopper with the same kind of smile he’d give after getting pulled over for speeding, or for the staunch smell of weed coming from the open window of his BMW. “I hope there ain’t gonna’ be any underage drinking at this party--”

He knows there will be.

“Nope,” Harrington says, all innocent acting, Ray-Bans over his eyes even thought he’s inside and it’s fucking dark out. He was such a ridiculous kid. Hopper would have probably punched him too when he was seventeen.”Just soda and fruit punch, sir.”

“Don’t push it,” he mutters, but waves off the conversation, heading for the kitchen to say hi to Joyce real quick. 

On the way out he hears Hargrove hiss, “You wanna invite him to the fucking thing too?” and Harrington goes, “Relax, he doesn’t care.” Which like, Hopper does care, but he also knows teenagers will be teenagers and if he spent all his time shutting down parties he’d never fucking sleep, so. 

Joyce has her back to him, stirring something that smells real fucking good in a pot while her two boys help. The radio is playing softly and Jonathan’s singing to his mom as he pulls what looks like ( and smells like ) garlic bread out of the oven. Will is standing on a stool, getting plates, and Hopper walks over to help him when he starts to wobble.

The kid offers him one of his soft, grateful little smiles and Joyce goes, “Oh, Hop,” in greeting, “When’d you get here? I didn’t hear the door.”

“Just a few minutes ago.” He makes sure Will can handle the rest then looks over her shoulder to take a peek at what’s in the pot, “What cha’ makin’?” He reaches for some bread and she smacks his hand with a spoon.

“Chicken parm with spaghetti and garlic bread--” his stomach growls at the thought, and he’s not sure if she heard it or not but she goes, “You’re gonna’ stay and eat some with us, right?” so either she did or she just knows. 

He wants to. He really fucking wants to, but. 

“Can’t. Still on the clock technically.”

Jonathan and Will take the plates and what food is finished to the other room while Joyce frowns at him. “You work too much.” And he might, maybe. But so does she, which he says. She smiles real gentle at him in response. Joyce always looks so much younger when she smiles like that.

“Try and stop by after then?” She asks, tilting her head back to look at him better. They’re closer than Hopper realized. They always seem to be closer than he realizes. “I’ll save you a plate and we can talk while the kids are asleep.” 

Thing is, Hopper probably visits her at night far too much for it to be appropriate. If she was married and he did that, her husband would have every right to punch him, but. 

She’s not married, and neither is he, and.

And that sounds real good, so, “I’ll try and make it.”

Which makes her smile even more, and Hopper likes making her smile. She’s been sad for too long and too often over the last couple years, and if anyone in this town deserved to smile it was Joyce Byers. 

“Good. See that you do.” She pats his chest. “Now go do your job. I’ll be waiting.”

And that sounds real good, too. Joyce waiting up for him.

Like real good. 

So, he finds Jane and ruffles her hair in good-bye, glares at Wheeler a little, and heads out the door, noticing that the BMW is still in the driveway but Harrington, Hargrove, and Hargrove’s Camaro are long gone. 

He’s almost done with his patrols, heading down to Lover’s Lake to make sure no one’s trying to get pregnant out there. He’s dreaming of Joyce’s chicken parm ( and a little bit about Joyce, too ) when he sees the missing Camaro parked at the edge of the lake, lights off and silent, and audibly sighs. 

It’s not the first time he’s caught Hargrove and some girl out here, and he’s kind of getting tired of the kid blatantly ignoring his warnings, so he shuts off his cruiser, gets out, and walks real quiet like toward the car just so he can have surprise on his side and put the fear of god into Hargrove and whatever poor girl he’s charmed into his backseat. 

Okay, so, maybe he enjoys this part of his job. Terrorizing horny teenagers was kind of fun. He now understood why the cops before him did the same fucking thing. Nothing like wide eyes and shit shit shit as limbs flail and clothes fly around to give you a good chuckle.

He hears moans as he gets closer, nose wrinkling because, christ, they left the fucking window open. Do they want the whole fucking town to hear them bumping uglies, like-- 

He pulls out his flash light, leans down, and flicks it on, “Alright, you two--”

Well.

Shit.

There’s two forms, and the one on bottom is most definitely Hargrove, naked from the waist up, hair a mess and a very angry looking red mark on his throat, but the girl on top-- well, the girl on top isn’t even a girl.

It’s fucking Harrington. 

Hopper’s world goes a little sideways and he stands there looking a little stupid, both kids staring at him with wide, terrified eyes before Hargrove’s shoving Harrington off him unceremoniously, a look of pure panic on his face. Harrington hits the seat with a grunt-- far more naked than Hargrove was-- and scrambles for his pants thrown over the middle console behind him. Hargrove’s muttering something like fuck and shit and i’m so fucking dead while yanking his shirt over his head and Hopper--

Catches up around the time Steve turns to him, out of breath and looking almost as scared as Hargrove, but infinitely more desperate. “Hopper,” he breathes, trying to smile like he did back at the Byers. It falls a little flat this time. “Hi, uh--” he glances back at Billy who is now just staring forward at the head rest of the front seat. His back is rigid, and that look of fear is still on his face. “-- it’s not... what it looks like. I uh. We. I--”

Hopper’s caught him like this before, but with girls, and Harrington’s always been much more composed, sometimes even smug. Now he looks about ready to piss himself, voice almost trembling and christ. 

Hopper gets why.

Like, it’s Hawkins. And--

He hasn’t always been the most outwardly accepting guy, even as an adult. He’s said shit before that he probably shouldn’t, but. That’s changed. He’s gotten better, because he has Joyce, and Joyce has Will, and Will--

Well, he’s not sure what Will is, but he’s pretty sure he’s not normal-- er, straight. Whatever. He’s still learning. Point is.

It’s not his thing, and he might not ever, like, get it, but. 

He knows what pure fear looks like, and Hargrove looks like that but worse. He’s green like he might throw up, and Steve only looks a little bit better, but not by much, so.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he hears himself sigh, and Steve goes still, so he adds. “I can’t believe Hargrove left his fucking car out here empty and unlocked. It’s illegal--” 

See, he should probably talk about it. He should probably tell the boys that it’s okay, or it’s natural, or some other liberal shit that Joyce would probably say, but he can’t. Doesn’t want to even, because that sounds fucking awkward as shit, and he isn’t even ready to have the talk with his kid, much less two queer teenage boys--

So this is his best option.

And they both look confused, which is fair. “God only knows who could find it,” he continues. God only knows who could find you. “He better get back here and leave soon.” You better get out of here. “It’s dangerous.”

Then he steps back, flicks off his flashlight and adds, “I’m not gonna’ report this,” which sounds stupid to say out loud, but he wants the kids to know he’s not going to tell anyone. That even if he doesn’t understand, he still fucking knows anyone finding out could mean either of them getting fucking dragged down a country road by a truck, and even when Hopper was at his worst he didn’t think people like them deserved that shit, so.

He gets back in his truck, heads back down the road, parks behind some trees, and sits there until he sees Hargrove’s Camaro fly by. Until he knows they’re safe, and hopefully not planning on doing that ever again.

Then he heads back to the Byers’, smokes a joint on the porch with Joyce, and eats chicken parmesan and garlic bread until he can no longer recall what Steve Harrington looks like butt ass naked. 

[meggie-stardust]

I saw some of your Jason/Percy writing on ao3 and i really liked it, so if your doing prompts could you write a Merman AU where Percy is a merman and Jason is a mortal?

Thank you for the prompt! I’m sorry it took ages for me to get it done. It kinda got out of hand... oops. 

Title: Lake OlympusFandom: Percy Jackson and The Olympians/Heroes of OlympusParing: Jason Grace/Percy JacksonNotes: Merman Percy, Camp AURead on AO3

“You’re not from Camp Jupiter, are you?” Jason asked. Then his eyes narrowed as another thought occurred to him. “Camp Half-Blood campers aren’t supposed to cross the cove,” Jason said.

The boy shrugged and then gestured to the diving platform. “You should join me.”

“Uh, thanks, dude, but I should get back,” Jason said, nodding back towards the west shore. “And you probably should, too.”

The boy just shrugged again but didn’t show any sign of leaving the platform.

Of all the activities at Camp Jupiter, Jason hated lifeguard duty the most.

When he was refereeing capture the flag or leading a hike he was an engaged participant in the activity. Hell, even the time he had to take over arts and crafts for a week because Hazel had gotten poison oak all over her arms when she took a wrong turn sneaking back from Frank’s cabin in the middle of the night… Even then he was able to convince Leo to teach the campers how to build tiny robots out of springs and other scraps of metal.

But lifeguard duty?

During lifeguard duty, though he sat in a designated chair on the dock, there was no rest. He couldn’t read, he couldn’t enjoy the water himself. All he was able to do was make sure the little shits on his watch didn’t drown themselves or each other. And there was always one camper who was determined to do both.

After pulling one of the Stoll twins off the other one for the fifth time, Jason finally declared that free swim was over, and that all the campers were to head back to their cabins. It was as he was pulling in the lane lines that were supposed to prevent the campers from swimming too far away from shore that he noticed something in the water.

At first he thought it was a weird glint of light. Then a second later he thought it might be a floaty that had gotten loose. But as he pulled his sunglasses on, and squinted out over the mostly still lake and there it was again: movement in the water, and way further out than the campers or any of their gear could have gotten under his watch.

Jason knew that it was probably just a fish, or a piece of trash that had floated out into Lake Olympus, but for some reason he was compelled to investigate. Perhaps it was from the hours of just sitting there staring at the younger campers having fun, but for whatever reason, Jason found himself pushing away from the dock in the canoe that had been tethered nearby.

It look him about 10 minutes to reach the center of the lake, where an old diving platform was buoyed. Once he was out there, he felt dumb. He looked back at the flurry of activity back at camp for a moment, wondering if anyone had seen him paddle out.

He sighed and started to turn the canoe back towards the camp. That’s when he heard the splash.

Jason spun around back towards the platform and watched someone pulling themselves up out of the water.

Jason sat stunned for a moment as the boy emerged from the water and then flipped around so he was sitting on the edge, face tilted up towards the sun, feet still dangling in the lake.

“Hey!” Jason called.

The boy looked around and smiled. “Hey,” he called back.

“What are you doing out here?” Jason asked in full counselor voice.

“Just enjoying the sunshine,” he replied.

Jason paddled closer pulled up right next to the other boy. He didn’t recognize him and it was dawning on Jason that he was likely not from Camp Jupiter.

“You’re not from Camp Jupiter, are you?” Jason asked. Then his eyes narrowed as another thought occurred to him. “Camp Half-Blood campers aren’t supposed to cross the cove,” Jason said.

The boy shrugged and then gestured to the diving platform. “You should join me.”

“Uh, thanks, dude, but I should get back,” Jason said, nodding back towards the west shore. “And you probably should, too.”

The boy just shrugged again but didn’t show any sign of leaving the platform.

Jason shook his head, turned the canoe around yet again, and started to paddle back to camp. About half way there he turned back to look at the platform, but the other boy was gone.

*

A few days later Jason was once again on lifeguard duty, and while he was ostensibly reffing a chaotic version of a water polo match, his eyes kept drifting towards the greenish smudge in the center of the lake that marked the old platform. He couldn’t stop thinking about how weird it was to find someone way out in the middle of the lake, way past the bounds of either of the camps that were nestled on the east and west shores of the town of Lake Olympus.

And on top of that, the guy out there had been so carefree, and so unconcerned about Jason. And yet Jason couldn’t stop thinking about the whole encounter. It was so bizarre, he was beginning to doubt that it had even happened.  

When the camp bell signaled that it was the end of activities for the day, and the campers now had an hour of free time before dinner, Jason lingered at the dock. Usually Jason took this time for himself, rushing off as soon as the last camper was out of the water. But today he took his time making sure everything was put away, and finally when he couldn’t stop himself, he slipped into the canoe.

Now that he knew where he was headed, the trip to the center of the lake was much quicker. As he approached, it felt like his heart was thumping in anticipation with every stroke of the paddle. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find; the odds that the other boy would be here were pretty slim, but then again, he also wanted to reassure himself that he wasn’t crazy and that he hadn’t imagined the whole thing.

It happened in the blink of an eye as he approached: one moment the diving platform was empty, and the next the sun flashed in his eyes, and when he could see again, there was the boy. Jason flailed and nearly capsized before he was able to steady himself with the paddle.

“Oh, you’re back,” the boy said, looking over his shoulder at Jason. “Are you going to actually stay this time?”

“I shouldn’t,” Jason said automatically, still in disbelief that he actually found the other boy out there again. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to disturb you.”

The boy tipped his head back and laughed. “I would’ve believed that the first time.”

Jason felt his cheeks heat up slightly. “I’m just gonna––”

“No, no,” the boy said, still laughing. “Come on, join me. Please.”

Jason looked back at Camp Jupiter one more time before pulling the canoe up to the platform and carefully climbing out, tethering the canoe to a hook on the side. He kicked his sandals off into the canoe and then crossed the platform and sat down next to the boy, letting his bare feet dip into the water.

“I’m Jason.”

“You’re from that camp?” the boy asked, looking over his shoulder back towards the shore.

“Yeah, one of the counselors at Camp Jupiter,” Jason said. “And you?”

“Percy,” he said. “Hey, why do you keep coming out here if you’re so worried about being out here?”

Jason blinked, somewhat taken aback by Percy’s straight forward question. “Why do you keep coming out here?” he asked instead of answering.

Percy shrugged and tipped his head back to look up at the sky. “I like it out here,” he said finally.

“Ok, dude,” Jason said with a slight laugh.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Jason was surprised at how much he enjoyed just sitting there with another person, even if that other person seemed to be a little odd.

“So, where are you from originally?” Jason asked eventually.

“Hmmm? Oh, here I guess,” Percy said, brow furrowed like he was confused about the question.

“You’re a townie?” Jason asked in surprise. “I would not have pegged you for a townie. I’m from near San Francisco, so being out here is a nice change of pace, but I can’t imagine living here full time.”

Percy seemed to perk up at this. “By the coast?”

“Yeah, I’m sort of between the ocean and the bay,” Jason confirmed. “It’s nice. Different than here.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit,” Percy said, “but I’ve never left Lake Olympus.”

“Hey, look, I didn’t mean it about the townie thing,” Jason insisted. “I was just surprised. But, obviously, I come back to Lake Olympus every summer, so it can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Yeah, well, you can make it up to me by telling me about where your from,” Percy suggested.

“Sure, I can do that,” Jason said with a smile, and launched into an explanation of his life in and around the San Francisco bay area.

Percy asked a lot of questions, mostly about Jason’s time spent on the coast, and Jason found himself getting lost in the easy flow of conversation once it started. In fact, he was so absorbed, he was startled when he could hear the faint sound of the Camp Jupiter bell announcing dinner time.

“Oh shit, I gotta go,” Jason said, scrambling to his feet.

“Really?” Percy asked.

“They’ll notice if I’m not with my campers at dinner.” He pulled his sandals on and started untying his canoe. “Don’t you have to make it back for dinner as well?” Jason asked, and for the first time realized that there wasn’t another canoe or boat around.

“Maybe I’ll see you later,” Percy said instead of answering.

“Yeah, dude. Maybe,” Jason agreed, and pushed off the platform, paddling as fast as he could back towards Camp Jupiter.

When he finally reached the shore, secured the canoe, and sprinted to the dining hall, dinner had already started. Octavian, the head counselor, glared at him has he dashed past, taking his seat with the rest of his and Leo’s campers.

“Where have you been?” Leo whispered, elbowing Jason.

“There was an issue down at the lake,” Jason said carefully.

“Octavian his hella pissed, dude,” Leo said.

“Whatever,” Jason said, and grabbed a role off Leo’s plate, shoving it in his mouth and ending the conversation.

He could deal with Octavian. The owners of Camp Jupiter loved him, so who cared if the head counselor hated his guts. The worst that would happen was that Octavian would schedule him for more lifeguard duty, knowing it was Jason’s least favorite activity.

Jason smiled to himself. Maybe more lifeguard wasn’t such a bad thing.

*

Over the next few weeks, as the end of summer approached, Jason found himself returning to the old platform more and more frequently, and every time he found Percy there waiting for him.

Jason wasn’t sure why he kept returning, and why paddling out to the center of the lake at the end of the day was something he started looking forward to. Sure, Lake Olympus was beautiful, and in the summer evenings it felt fantastic to take in some quieter moments in the middle of the serine lake. But it was was beginning to dawn on Jason that it was Percy that was drawing him out to the lake.

The first few times he was out there, Jason could have rationalized it as just curiosity. The next few, he could maybe argue that he enjoyed the company and friendship––though he still considered Leo to be his best friend, the other boy was caught up in his own camp projects and his new girlfriend. Eventually, as he paddled out to the platform for the fourth time in one week, Jason realized he was attracted Percy.

This thought struck him out of nowhere, mid stroke, and he nearly dropped the paddle. Jason had never really thought about another guy like that before. He had had a few girlfriends in the past, and he and Piper had and on again, currently off again summer romance every year at camp. But when he thought about his behavior of the past few weeks, and when he realized that his heart speed up in anticipation as he approached the platform each day, the only explanation was that Jason was into Percy.

Of course, now that he had realized that about himself, he didn’t quite know how to act around the other boy. He tripped getting out of the canoe and nearly face planted into the platform, he fumbled tying up the canoe, and when he finally did sit down next to Percy, like he had been doing for the past few weeks, he had no idea what to say.

“Are you ok?” Percy asked after a few moments of silence.

Jason was staring down at his feet dangling in the water, and sitting stiff and awkward.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Jason said, keeping his eyes on the water.

Percy wasn’t wearing a shirt. Percy had never once worn a shirt during their encounters, but now Jason was incredibly aware of Percy’s chest.

Percy frowned. “Sorry. You just seem like somethings on your mind,” he said, reaching out a hand to place on Jason’s shoulder.

Jason immediately jumped up, as if he was shocked.

“You know what? I actually have something back at camp that I have to get to,” he said, scrambling back to the canoe. “I’m sorry, Percy, I just––”

And that’s when Jason’s foot missed the canoe, and he tipped backwards, arms flailing wildly, and hit his head on the side of the platform.

*

Jason’s eyes flew open and his body went into panic mode. He tried to gasp for air, but received only a mouthful of water. Bright bursts of light started to flash in his eyes before his vision started to tunnel. And right when he thought he would pass out again, Percy’s face floated into view.

Percy’s face came closer and closer, until he was the only thing Jason could see, and then he was sealing his mouth over Jason’s and exhaling deeply, pushing air into Jason’s lungs.

As Jason’s lungs filled with the air they were so desperate for, a mix of profound relief and confusion kicked in.

He wasn’t dying.

He wasn’t dying.

Percy had saved him.

He wasn’t dying.

He wasn’t dying.

Percy was breathing into his lungs again, bringing more sweet relief.

He wasn’t dying.

He wasn’t dying.

They were still underwater and Percy was still breathing for him.

He wasn’t dying.

He wasn’t dying.

Why wasn’t he dying?

Pulling away finally, Percy grabbed Jason’s from under his arms, and began swimming towards the service of the lake, pulling Jason with him. When they broke the surface, Jason gasped, and scrambled to grab on to the edge of the diving platform.

“Jason, are you ok?” Percy asked, treading water next to where Jason was clinging to the platform.

“How?” Jason said in between gulps of air. “How did you…”

“Why don’t we get you out of the water, and make sure you’re ok first.” Percy said.

“Yeah, ok,” Jason replied automatically.

“Here, let me,” Percy said, helping Jason pull himself on to the platform.

Jason flopped down on the platform, laying back and staring up into the twilight, taking deep breaths. After a few moments, he lifted his hand and gingerly touched the back of his head, wincing as his fingers brushed the welt that was already forming.

“Seriously, are you ok?” Percy asked, leaning over Jason, and once again filling all of Jason’s vision with his own face.

“You saved me,” Jason whispered. “You gave me air.”

Percy’s cheeks tinted slightly pink. “Of course I saved you. I couldn’t just let you drown.”

“How were you––” Jason began, but trailed off as he felt something solid and wet flop on to his legs. “Uhh…”

Jason struggled to sit up.

“Hey, hey, slowly,” Percy said, easing Jason into a sitting position.

“Either I hit my head harder than I thought, or you have fins,” Jason said, staring down at the place Percy’s feet should have been.

“Jason,” Percy said, slowly reaching out to hold Jason’s hand, “you know that I’m a merman, right? Like, you know I live in the lake.”

“I’m sorry, you’re a what?”

“I thought I was pretty obvious about that point,” Percy said, furrowing his brow.

“How the hell could you have been obvious about that?”

“We always met on the platform, and I was either in the water, or at least had my feet always submerged. That’s where my fins are, as you can see,” Percy said, flipping one of his long greenish fins. “I mean, you asked me where I was from, and I literally said the lake.”

“I thought you meant the town of Lake Olympus!” Jason countered. “You know, like most people mean when they say they’re from here.”

Percy shrugged and Jason laughed a bit hysterically.

“OK, I am obviously suffering from a massive head injury here,” Jason said.

“Well, if that’s the case, then how was I able to help you breath underwater?” Percy asked with a smirk.

In the shock of seeing fins, Jason seemed to have forgotten that point, because suddenly the memory of Percy’s mouth on his flashed in his mind, and his face flushed red.

“I… You…” Jason spluttered.

“You seem a little short of breath again,” Percy joked.

Their eyes locked, the air felt charged, and suddenly it wasn’t a joke anymore.

Jason swallowed and nodded, and then Percy was leaning in again, and brushing his lips against Jason’s. Jason reacted immediately and wrapped his hand behind Percy’s head, and pulled him closer, kissing the other boy as if he really was breathing through him again. It was desperate and raw and Jason tried to put all of his feelings for Percy into the kiss.

Jason began to shake slightly and Percy pulled back and leaned his forehead against Jason’s.

“You scared me,” Percy said, “The sound your head made when it hit the side… I didn’t think I would get to you in time.”

Jason surged forward again. “I’m sorry,” he said against Percy’s mouth. “I’m sorry.”

And then he proceeded to show Percy just how sorry he was, without having to say anything more.

*

Later, when they were both naked and sweaty, and wrapped around each other, staring at the stars that had risen over the lake, and the urgency of the past few hours had faded away, Jason was beginning to realize that he had no idea what would happen next. He let out a sigh, and scrubbed his hand over his face.

“What’s wrong?” Percy asked, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at Jason’s face.

“I’m just gonna be in deep shit when I get back to camp,” he said. “I’m out way past curfew at this point.”

“I thought you were a counselor-thingie at that camp?” Percy asked.

Jason laughed. “That doesn’t mean much, dude.”

Percy considered this. “I’m sorry you’ll get in trouble.”

“It won’t be that bad. They really can’t do much, since summer’s almost over…” Jason trailed off.

“What?” Percy asked.

“Summer is almost over,” Jason repeated slowly. “That’s when I have to leave.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“What if you don’t?”

“Don’t what?”

“Leave,” Percy clarified. “What if you stayed here.”

“Like at camp?”

Percy rolled his eyes. “No, I mean here. With me.”

Jason blinked. “I can’t.”

“Why not? What happens after camp?” Percy asked.

“Well, I go back to San Francisco.”

“And then what?”

Jason frowned. “I don’t really know,” he answered after a long moment. “I…uh… Well, I turned eighteen in July, so don’t technically have a home to go back to,” he continued awkwardly.

Percy looked confused so Jason pushed forward before Percy could ask any questions. “I come to camp here every summer because I don’t really have parents,” he confessed. “My foster parents send me here to get a break, but I aged out when I turned eighteen and I guess I was gonna try to get a job or start at city college, or…” he shrugged. “I guess I really don’t have much go back to.”

“Then stay,” Percy insisted. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I mean, I do have to go back to camp,” Jason said. “Obviously, I have to go back. My cabin and my friends are there. I’d have to finish out the summer,” he finished with a laugh, surprising himself that he was actually considering staying.

“Right, but after that,” Percy persisted, “you can come here.”

Jason blinked up at the other man, taken aback with how simplistic he was making it all seem.

“You don’t really have anything to back to, I don’t want you to leave, so just stay,” Percy said again.

Jason laughed nervously. “I can’t live in the lake like you do,” he said.

Percy flopped back down on his back next to Jason and burst out laughing so hard and for so long that Jason eventually propped himself up and looked down at Percy.

“What?”

“That’s what’s holding you back?” Percy asked between fits of laughter. “I know you’re human!  But clearly I can keep you safe underwater––”

“Yeah, but––”

“But,” Percy continued ignoring the interruption, “I can also go on land,” he finished, fluttering his legs. His fins shrunk down to normal feet size, and the greenish tinge faded into the tanned skin that covered the rest of Percy’s body.

“Oh,” said Jason.

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll stay?” Percy asked.

Jason leaned down and kissed Percy deeply before pulling back. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

--

send me a prompt

[synoir]

Seasons: Autumn

Fourth addition to the Seasons series

Read in order: Seasons: Winter | Seasons: Spring⎪Seasons: Summer

Sirius Black x Hermione Granger | Muggle AU

Warnings: Coarse language.

Thanks to @thornweed who beta−read this final part!

Read on FFNET (Rating: M): Chapter 1 – Chapter 2 – Chapter 3 − Chapter 4

Sirius moved towards Hermione and put his hands on her shaking shoulders. The rain was tapping on the window relentlessly, and his girl was holding back tears. He knew she was more angry than sad, but it did nothing to make him feel better.

"I'm so sorry Sirius," she said in a tiny voice. He put a kiss on where the neckline of her dress met with her skin, in hopes that it would be reassuring.

"You've got nothing to apologise for," he said meaning every word. She didn't need to apologise for she had done nothing wrong. "I can handle a little scrutiny from your parents, love. They worry about you and your future. I admit their method is a bit unsavoury but... They'll come around."

Hermione shook her head and took the apple pie she had put on the counter to cool. She had been trying to cook a perfect pie since she had heard her parents were coming to visit them from Australia. Hermione wasn't a good cook and was an even worse baker, but she was stubborn and the result was perfect like everything else she had put on her mind to achieve. Sirius hated that after all her hard work she had done for her parents' visit everything turned so gloomy.

On one hand, Sirius understood their concerns, he really did. He had the same concerns after all. Although his were for more selfish reasons, he couldn't blame her mother and father to want to talk to her about moving in with a man nineteen years her senior. He just didn't expect them to be so callous about their disapproval. He didn't want to think about how the rest of the two weeks of their planned visit would resume.

"They should at least try to be polite," Hermione said with an air of righteous indignation then she sighed dejectedly. "Can you grab the plates?"

Sirius left another kiss on her shoulder before doing as he was told and following Hermione to the dining room.

Sirius had left for work in the morning. After the disastrous dinner, they had decided she needed to talk to her parents alone, so Sirius claimed he needed to go the bar that he owned to check something.

"He doesn't even arrange a day off the first morning we are here?" Catherine Granger asked as she sat down on the living room sofa. Her father had gone for a walk as he did every Sunday morning after breakfast since she could remember, so she was alone with her mother now. She put down two mugs of tea on the coffee table and turned to her mother with a saccharine smile.

"He did actually, but I asked him to give us space so we can talk," she explained. Her mother sighed and nodded her head picking up the mug nearest to her.

"Very well," she said primly. "I don't approve of your relationship with him. Please don't ask me to pretend like I do."

"I don't ask you to approve Mum," Hermione said seriously. "I can't control your feelings. I expect you to be polite towards him in his own home. I expect you to respect the decisions I make for my own life. I honestly thought you would be opposed to it to a degree−"

"He is old enough to be your father," her mother interrupted her.

"But he is not my father," Hermione returned, just as fast.

"Darling, you can't hope to have the same expectations in life as him. You two are clearly very different people. What about your academic career? You had a perfectly good house and a life plan. And now you suddenly throw it all away for a man who has made very different choices than you in such a short time. That isn't like you."

Hermione had promised herself not to get agitated and start to shout, but suddenly that didn't seem possible to her. Still, she took a deep breath to calm herself.

"He is very supportive of my academic career," she said. "Didn't you see the study he made for me? That was his birthday gift to me, you know. Not chocolate and roses and a dinner outside. A study with wall-to-wall bookshelves. He cares for me. Yes, he didn't make the same decisions in life. And yes, he is much older than I. We know.

"But you see, that's why it's him. Because we talk about our worries and we work on them together. Because he respects my decisions on a level no one else does. He doesn't treat me like a little girl. He isn't with me because of, what was it that you so elegantly put, A mid−life crisis."

Hermione stopped herself from talking more before she lost the control of her voice. She wrapped her cardigan more firmly around herself and glared at her mother. She gritted her teeth as her mother sighed one more time in a way that screamed you are making a mistake, Hermione. She could hear the unspoken words so clearly in her head she wanted to scream.

"You'll see," her mother said. "One day you'll realise you wasted your youth with an older man and you'll regret it."

"Until that day," Hermione began. "You will accept him. You don't have to like him, but Sirius and I have a serious relationship. So you either accept us or you won't be a part of our life. And I expect you to treat him with decorum in his own house too, while you are here."

"Hermione!" her mother exclaimed, clearly shocked. Hermione didn't blame her. She had been living in Australia for the last couple of years and no longer knew what kind of a woman Hermione had become.

"Alright," came the voice of her father behind them. She turned and looked at him. He must have returned from his walk and now was standing in the living room.

"Dad," she said and her father walked in and sat down on one of the chairs without even taking his coat off.

"I do not approve of it. But alright."

Maybe taking his girlfriend's parents, who had decided to dislike him, to a lunch without the buffer offered by the said girlfriend was not the wisest of decisions. But Sirius was not a child, hadn't been one for a long time, and he wouldn't take it sitting down when his peers tried to belittle him because of the decisions he had made in his private life. Even if those peers were the parents of one of those decisions.

The polite and strained conversation about the day and their plans could have been the only topics that they talked today. But Sirius hadn't invited them out when Hermione was at the university to talk about how good the weather was in Australia during this season.

"You know," he began as he took a sip from his ginger ale. "There is a great chance that I won't go anywhere."

The sudden change of topic was effective, he knew. It was one of the things that disarmed people and showed their immediate response. In this case, it was two pair of eyes looking at him in surprise that soon morphed into scowling. He wouldn't complain; that's why he took them out of the house. So they would be in a mutual territory.

"You should," Matthew Granger said. "You must know she deserves someone –"

"Younger?" Sirius questioned then he smirked. He knew his face must look predatory. It was an expression he had learned at a very young age. "Richer? Although I must admit that would be overly ambitious of you..."

"Excuse me?" Catherine's indignation was almost identical to Hermione's, yet it had the opposite effect on Sirius.

"I understand your worries," he said then. "But I don't care about them. I invited you here to tell you that I will do my best to remain a permanent part of Hermione's life. And I don't mean remaining friendly if this thing between us doesn't work. I mean that I will make it work."

Hermione drove her parents to the airport after a torturous fortnight spent with them in her new home. Visiting for her birthday... What a crap excuse. They hadn't come to visit her for her birthday since they retired and moved to Australia. They usually would send her a plane ticket, and she would have to arrange her life accordingly to visit them. When they did the same this summer and Hermione told them she couldn't because she was moving in with her boyfriend they suddenly decided to make the trip themselves. She would have liked to think that it was because they wanted to see her. She should have known it was to come and convince her that her chosen partner was not good enough.

They didn't like Sirius. Which would be acceptable for her if they had actually made an effort to get to know him. It was worse since they were forced to spend fourteen horrible days in the same house.

Her mother hugged Hermione, and she returned the gesture stiffly.

"You know, you can come and visit us whenever you want," her mother said.

"Well, it would depend on Sirius' schedule, Mum."

Catherine Granger didn't like that answer, not that it surprised Hermione. "You could always come alone."

Hermione snorted. "Like you go abroad without each other," she said pointing at the space between her mother and father.

"Well, we are married, pumpkin," her father said unnecessarily.

Hermione stiffened her shoulders and looked at them. "Well, Sirius and I are as good as married. We live together, pay the bills together, and plan our life together." She shook her head. "And considering how rude you were towards him in his own house, I don't think I will be asking him to visit you in yours anytime soon."

"Are you cutting us out of your life, Hermione?" her mother asked with surprise and her father seemed angry.

"No." Hermione's answer was quick and loud. "Of course not. But I have different priorities, now. Mainly, him."

"Hermione, moving in with someone is not the same thing as being married."

Hermione took a deep breath. "It is for me."

Hermione took out her key and opened the door to her home, their home. She was tired. Now that her parents were gone, she felt the loss of their disapproving presence like a ghost ache. She had apologised to Sirius and he never accepted it, and now she was at a loss on how to make him forgive her. She could have declined her parents when they wanted to visit, but she didn't know how, so Sirius had to listen to her parents' objections and their criticism of his life. He had to listen to them ask about her ex−boyfriend Mark and whether Hermione was still in contact with him, Mark was such a gentleman, after all, and no point in cutting ties because you had broken up. Or they would complain that motorcycles were too dangerous.

Or that whether he ever regretted his tattoos.

Why was he never married?

Oh, his parents were dead? Was it old age?

Hermione smiled remembering Sirius' answer. "Father died because of Mother. She died out of spite. I don't remember actually when... would have to check the date on the death certificates."

Well, that certainly didn't make the Grangers love him more, but Hermione wasn't about the get angry with him because of that. At that point, Hermione wished Sirius retorted with sarcasm to everything they said. But instead, he had held his tongue so as not to increase the tension. She had later warned her mother that Sirius' family was a private and tense subject and she would appreciate them not bringing it up again. So whenever they were alone Catherine Granger lamented on the importance of family and having well-established roots.

So, yes, Hermione was tired. She wanted to open a bottle of wine, take a long bath and then, if she felt rejuvenated enough, probably shag Sirius loudly. She was also tired of keeping it silent. It was a good plan. She knew that Sirius would appreciate the loud sex.

She wanted to skip the living room and climb the stairs toward the bedroom but stopped when she noticed the warm light that was coming from there. She pushed the French doors that divided the area and slowly walked into the room where Sirius was throwing wood into the fireplace, his face glowing as the flames moved in their confines. Crookshanks was right next to Sirius, undoubtedly enjoying the heat. He seemed unaware of Hermione's presence and she liked the small time frame that gave her to watch the man she loved. She noticed the wine bottle opened to let it breathe on the coffee table and the selection of dried fruits and cheese on a plate. She sighed contently. He knew her too well.

Sirius must have heard her sigh because he lifted his head and looked at her. He poked the fire one last time to place the wood properly and got up to walk towards her.

Hermione didn't move, instead, she let Sirius come to her, with steps unhesitating yet not fast. Like a man who knew where he was going, like a man who knew who he was going towards. Hermione's heart filled with familiarity and attraction towards him. He stood when he was in her personal space, and he belonged there like a limb of hers. His hands moved up and his palms pressed onto her arms, gently squeezing and climbing up towards her shoulders only to climb down again.

Her eyes teared up. How did her parents not see how much they belonged together? How easy it was for them to just be when they were together? Even fighting was easy with Sirius. It lacked the fear of being judged or misunderstood because all that he shouted and got angry and frustrated, he was there and he would hear her. It was easy to laugh with him because he wouldn't keep it down, he would reach the very peak of joy and take her with him. It was easy to make love to him because they hadn't stopped learning each other, and their curiosity was mingled with a passion that was born of physical attraction and wants they shared. She watched Sirius' every move like the man was a poem that decided papers were too confining and he broke free of them, and as sappy as that sounded Hermione didn't think she would ever get tired of reading it.

When Sirius' right hand reached up to her face to cup her cheek and his thumb moved right above her cheeks to take a teardrop Hermione realised she was crying. A second later she was enveloped in his arms, their bodies touching each other over Hermione's thick coat and his wool jumper and jeans, but it felt as if there were no restrictions at all. Familiar. He was familiar.

And he smelled like home.

"Sirius," she began raising her head to look at him and his arms squeezed her firmer in reassurance. She wanted to apologise for her parents' treatment of him, thank him for putting up with it. She wanted to say that he came first now, that she loved him and that he was a part of her; a permanent fixture that her parents would have to accept. She could probably talk about what she thought, what she wished for and what she felt. The words that came out of her though were different, and even though she hadn't planned for the words to be spoken she wasn't surprised when the question left her mouth and became a breath shared by the two of them.

"Will you marry me?"

Sirius' heart leapt.

Did he hear her right? Did she just ask what he thought she asked? He looked at her face, focusing on her eyes. There were no tears anymore, just the shine that was left from them. The tiredness had gone from her posture and instead, she had that stubborn stance that he loved so much, shoulders raised and chin up, like it was not a strain on her neck when she looked at his face but a natural posture. The decisiveness and a lack of fear that he found in her face warmed his heart. It wasn't a romantic uprising towards her family in search of rebellion, and how dare he think such things about Hermione, anyway? Did she ever say anything that she did not firmly believe in?

"When?" he asked then took a deep breath. "Yes. Hermione," he leant in and put a kiss on her lips, barely holding himself to not tremble. "I will marry you. Just say when."

She smiled at him and kissed him once again, rising on her toes and holding herself with arms placed on his shoulders. "Anytime."

Sirius nodded and grinned leaning to hoist her up in his arms and moved her to the sofa. He gently laid her there and followed her body with his. "I think autumn is a great season for a wedding."

Hermione's following laughter was a thing that should have been bottled for an eternity. The humankind surely would miss out on not hearing it over and over again. "I agree. October is my favourite month. And it's right between our birthdays too, very convenient."

He hummed in approval and kissed her cheek and then her ear. "James owns this great house north of here. It belonged to his parents. It's fancy and big enough for a small wedding."

Hermione sighed lightly, pleased and Sirius put an open-mouthed kiss right below her chin, a place he knew she liked. Sure enough, she let out a small moan. "I think I could find a nice dress by the time. Silver and midnight blue for the wedding colours, I was thinking."

Sirius chuckled. "Were you, now?"

Hermione shrugged. "No, but blue is my favourite colour and white is too boring."

Sirius made a sound to show her he agreed. "I like it. Chocolate for the wedding cake?"

"Of course," Hermione said immediately. "That place we discovered, Honeydukes? I love their chocolate cake."

Sirius moaned as he thought of the promise of that particular flavour and kissed her full on mouth to reward her for the amazing idea. "We should ask Luna to make the invitations. I have a feeling that she would make it weird enough to fit us both."

Hermione grinned as Sirius started to take off her coat. He struggled a little with the thick material and when he was done her hands wormed their way underneath his jumper. "Open bar?" she asked hesitantly and was surely considering the expense of such frivolous wishes.

"Oh, love, you know how to excite me," he said and settled between her legs and as if they were waiting for the cue they hugged his waist. "I think I can arrange that, yes. I'll ask Narcissa for a catering company for the food."

"Oh," Hermione said but Sirius couldn't be sure if that was a testimony to the closeness of their bodies or an agreement to his idea to let the Malfoys handle the food. "That would please the masses, I think."

"Would it please you?" he asked with a firm move of his hips that pressed onto her core.

"Yes... yes it would," was the content response from his woman.

Sirius grinned and kissed her again moving his body in sync with her heated responses, and finding a rhythm to remind her how good they were together. He watched her face as her eyes fluttered close, like a promise of things to come. The light from the fireplace was turning her wild hair that was around her head into a fiery halo and warming the lines of her face. "I love you."

Hermione hummed and pressed her chest firmly against his, arching towards him. "And I love you," she said and he kissed her with all his being.

And it was like magic.

The End

This had been a joy to write although a little bit slower than I would have liked. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I will as usual tag some of you here. If I have forgotten someone know that it wasn’t intentional.

[nomadmanager]

What Happened To Jen Horn? : The Year And A Half That Has Passed - A 2016 Review (and 2017 so far)

For a long time, I stopped writing.  I stopped writing for me. 

Apart from my annual review/preview + letter to self, there was not much other writing I’ve done for personal release (as people did back in the Livejournal days, for those of you old enough to know it) in the past 4-5 years. And I’m months overdue on this year’s letter to self and my 2016-2017 review/preview. 

What’s held me back all this time (apart from the excuse we like to tell ourselves that we’re busy, etc.) is that I was avoiding writing things down, largely because I was afraid to admit to myself of how little I had accomplished of the goals I had set for myself in 2016, and furthermore, how little I knew of what I wanted to happen in 2017. I was hiding from the world because I didn’t want to have to admit failure or be forced to aspire to do more merely because of social pressure (even when that was imagined).

About a week ago, I started a half-assed effort of writing again. I wrote word vomit that I kept to myself, because I feared judgment from those who might read my words. I would be exposing my private, personal thoughts that I felt have nothing to do with the work I do, and I felt it would do little to help others in the world. I was still hiding.

But then, I’ve always felt and written differently when I imagined at least one another person reading my words, so I thought it was still essential that I post this publicly. And who knows, maybe you can relate to it a little bit and find a nugget or two to be useful in your own life. 

And to give myself added courage, I reminded myself: 

“Jen, this is for your personal blog. Who cares what other people think? You’re afraid they’ll judge you because you were fearless enough to put your honest pain, joy, fears and dreams (or lack thereof) out there for their possible consumption? Then they have a problem, not you. This is your space. Use it for your catharsis if you wish. There are plenty of other places in cyberspace where they can choose to spend their time. If they don’t like your self-indulgent whining or whatever, and yet they continue on reading, then they’re the idiots, aren’t they?” 

And so, here we are. You may go, or you may stay. 

If you choose to stay, prepare for a looooot of possibly incoherent word vomit about what’s been up with Jen Horn (though I tried to organize the following 4,000 words a bit) and a looooot of my personal story and feelings. If you go, ciao. 

THE YEAR (AND A HALF) THAT HAS PASSED ^ That being considered, this post is still pretty short. 

So much has happened since the beginning of 2016, and simultaneously, it also seems I was stuck in certain aspects of my life. If you’ve wondered what’s been happening with Jen Horn lately, here it is. 

For a good part of the past year and a half, I spent it wavering, doubting what I ought to do next with Muni, and my life in general. It was obvious to me that I remained lost in figuring out the right business model to keep running it sustainably without sacrificing values of sustainability and social good. It was also clear to me that I was losing the steam I once had in the earlier stages of Muni – back when it was an informal movement, up to its earlier stages as a formal institution. 

ACT 1: GERMAN WINTER & MANILA SPRING (CLEANING) 

The DO (and Don’t) School + Dealing with Cancer 

I had joined The DO School’s Entrepreneurship for Good program in January 2016 in Berlin with the hopes to get clarity and growth for Muni. Instead, the unintended effect of it making me reassess things, is that it made me cast greater doubt in Muni and in my desire and motivation to continue with the status quo vs. going off to start something anew. 

While I was in Berlin, in February, about a week after my birthday, I found out my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. I tried to be there for my mom, even as I was 10,000 km away. More importantly, I tried talking to my dad, so that he could support her vs. stress her out, because I do know how they can get, especially when they don’t see eye to eye and want to impose their own ways on the other. 

Upon my return to Manila from Berlin in March, I dove right into family + work -- with my mother’s dilemma on how to deal with her cancer + MUNI Market 2016 already pre-scheduled to happen in Nuvali in May. 

If you were in my wormy brain in late 2015, then you’ll know I had already been rethinking Muni back then. So by this time in 2016, I was becoming increasingly fatigued by the thought of the work, wanted a more full time team but couldn’t afford it (nor commit to affording it), and I missed creating and traveling and doing things for me. And frankly, my mom’s situation made me rethink my own life and what I valued while I was trying to help her realize what brought her meaning in her life.

Healing of the body (which we did explore with several doctors) has a lot to do with healing the mind and heart, through meditation and such (not as popular with most doctors, if not done alongside other conventional means), and I was exploring some of that with her from April to June with various meditation apps, books, checking out some local meditation classes or retreats. She wasn’t into all of that, save for the occasional Headspace session, but I tried to lighten her psychological-emotional burden or stress when I could, even in other ways like just talking (or listening) to her.

On Firing Up Motivation vs. Being A Vegetable

Shortly after the Muni Market concluded on May 21, we also organized a Muni Meetup on Motivation on June 9, to revitalize demotivated dreamers and doers who we believed should still have the courage to go on. 

The truth is, it was as much for myself as it was for the Muni community. And even when we got raving feedback about how it encouraged and inspired attendees to act boldly and soldier on, it did not seem enough to lift my own spirits. I felt like I lacked the motivation to go on and I didn’t know how to gain it back. I had called for a planning meeting with my core team after that meetup. However, instead of discussing next steps, I wound up breaking down in unexpected tears. I asked what would happen to Muni without me? Would they soldier on? And is it even really valuable or was I just being self-important?

For two weeks in June 2016, I was pretty much a vegetable. I went on ridiculous Netflix binges, until I finally resolved to get my shit together. I de-cluttered my physical and mental spaces; sold more of my unwanted / unneeded belongings; booked myself in a Vipassana meditation retreat in August (because ironically, while exploring meditation more for my mom, I found that I was revisiting it more for me too), all to help me really reassess what I valued.

ACT 2: SPANISH SUMMER 

Eat, Pray, Love (in 17 days, with parents – lol)

The 10th to the 27th of July 2016 would also find me in a surprise trip to Europe, a 17-day whirlwind trip through some parts of Spain (Barcelona, Madrid, Seville), France (Lourdes) and Portugal (Lisbon, Fatima) with my parents. They had been initially scheduled to go with other friends in March, but had to postpone the trip when they found out about my mom’s diagnosis. 

 Worried about traveling alone with my dad, my mom wanted a younger and more travel-savvy person to accompany them (since they were no longer traveling with their other friends), and I suddenly found myself in the continent again. It was not a trip I was supposed to be on. And while the thought of going around Europe (this time on holiday) was appealing, I was also worried about extended travel with my parents given our history of stressful family trips. 

Somehow, we survived each other. It was a relatively stress-free family trip considering the duration of the trip, unfamiliarity with the countries, and constant moving around. It was actually really good. 

The Day I Had For Me 

In the days leading up to the end of the trip though, I felt myself getting antsier, not because of parental squabbles, but more of just me wanting some of my own time away from them during this trip. 

And so, on day 15, I managed to find a long stretch of alone time, and meet someone (let’s call him L) who would largely shape the year to come. I’ll spare you the cheesy details, suffice it to say, it was a connection that I had never had before. And we were determined to see each other again somehow. Maybe the next summer, who knew? 

More Days I Made For Me 

On the 27th of July, I left Spain, and by August 3, I would finally push through with a 10-day Vipassana Meditation Retreat, after 4 years of putting it off. 

I had hoped I would get me more balance, clarity on Muni and what I want to do with my life. What I emerged clear about was that I wanted to go back to Europe before the year was over. If the connection I made with L was still present (or stronger). It was. And so I made plans to. 

Not long after I had gotten out of Vipassana (a few days after), he also paid me a surprise visit in the Philippines for a week. It was possibly one of the happiest times of my life. 

“I think anybody who falls in love is a freak. It’s a crazy thing to do. It’s kind of like a form of socially accepted insanity.” – Amy, Her (2013) 

And so, I told my closest friends and my Muni team about our story, and my intention to go see him for a couple of months. They were supportive of the insane pursuit of love, and agreed to hold the fort from November 1 to January 11, as we only had one scheduled meetup for December. 

I kept the reasons for my trip from majority of the population secret because I still find it mildly cringe-worthy that I, Jen Horn, strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man per se and has her own thing going for her, would travel that far, and essentially put her life on hold for a couple of months for a boy, well, a man, but you know, a boy. 

But it was the only thing that made sense in life at the time. 

From August to October 2016, I would then run a few more events for Muni (our scheduled workshop series) and do some marketing/event consultancy, while also selling more stuff on Carousell to augment my income and declutter at the same time, and spending as much time with family as I could. 

ACT 3: ITALIAN FALL 

A Life Without Muni 

For a long time (read: about a decade, give or take – so yeah, a long-ish time), I’ve gone back and forth between with the desire to live for something greater than myself, and the desire to live according to my whims and desires, or whatever I thought they could be, even if it was: “to get by through life with as little effort as possible”. 

To create something greater than one’s self requires commitment, something I wasn’t sure I still wanted to give by the time I had my mini-meltdown in June, as I felt like maybe I wanted to do different things already. They (motivational speakers, life coaches, and peddlers of The Secret) say we can attain what we want for as long as we have clarity, or a solid purpose. I wasn’t sure if I wanted the same things I thought I wanted before. 

In 2012, when I had my pre-Muni quarter life crisis, I thought I had found it when I came up with Muni. I wanted to be a brainwasher for the good of the planet. I wanted to share what accessible solutions were out there so regular folks could shop, eat, travel and live more sustainably by creating content, a community, and a gathering similar to what the Muni Market has become today. 

I wanted to connect like-minded individuals, and start conversations that paved the way for paradigm shifts and an empowered way of thinking of our impact, in spite of the bleak state of the planet. I wanted people to rethink their preconceptions, speech, habits and behaviors, and in turn, influence others to take up more conscious choices as well. 

That was good enough for me.

It would seem that I had more or less accomplished what I sought to do with Muni (though it didn’t help that I didn’t set quantifiable goals from the beginning), but generally, I felt at peace with moving on. Doing more consultancy work instead of forcing the issue on getting cash sponsorships for Muni events. There’s a lot of other things I could do with my skill set and my network in the Philippines that could provide more decent pay with less risk (because I wouldn’t be independently mounting an event and just praying it break even). 

The Blue Pill

From the time I left Berlin in March to my mini-meltdown in June, I hadn’t figured it out. I gave myself time to think about it more. Besides, I had other things that were keeping me happy in the meantime.

I was off to Europe to spend time with someone who made me feel the happiest I had felt so far. I was high and hopeful.

Normally, I’m guarded when it comes to matters of the heart. I don’t immediately let people in. Neither do I immediately go all out. So, the fact that I let my guard down so easily when we met, quieted my normally over-analytic mind, and traveled 12,000km with the sole purpose of spending time (2 months!) with someone I had spent not more than 8 days with at that point, was crazy.

I had no clue what I would do in Europe apart from be with him and learn more about his daily life, his work, his family, and try to expand my network in Spain (and Europe in general) and look for potential work opportunities. (Admittedly, the efforts I did for the latter were half-assed, and I know I could have tried harder.)

We had a glorious time. In November, we spent a couple of days in Paris (then I spent some days with the Philippine delegation for COP22 in Marrakech), and several days in Naples, Rome and Venice, until finally going back to Madrid where we played house for a little over a month. It was one of the best times of my life, up until the final days before my pending departure, when we dread having to be apart.

From the get-go, a long distance relationship was not something either of us wanted. And prior to me going to Europe in November, neither of us had really thought through what I might be doing on that side of the world. Between L and I, he had the more stable gig, which required him to be in the continent. So the question was always, what would I do in Europe if I moved there?

The Red Pill

I still had a lot of what I felt was unfinished business with Muni, and with my country in general. We still had the upcoming Muni Market in 2017, and I wasn’t quite ready to let it go yet.

Other things I was considering earlier in 2016 included the possibility of further studies on Environmental Psychology in the UK (if I managed to get a scholarship), and other creative pursuits like content creation, painting and such, which I could technically do from wherever.

But assuming I got the scholarship, I would have wanted to apply those lessons in the Philippines too. And I still have a hard time aligning with the idea that I could make money with creative personal work vs. doing mindful marketing consultancy or other things related to the work I did with Muni. And for consultancy projects, it would be easier to get them in a country where I’ve already built a considerable network and reputation (and in a country whose language I actually speak).

So as my stay in Europe was coming to a close, and I had no answers yet, I was sad and worried. But I remained hopeful that what L and I had was strong and that we would figure it out. 

ACT 4: TROPICAL DEPRESSION

The Beauty of the Philippines

When I got back to Manila in January 2017, I actively did the pre-work I needed to do for Muni Market 2017 set in April. Good news also came when my mother’s PET scan came out clear.

In February, my love for traveling within the Philippines was re-established when I spent some time with the parents and accompanied them on short trips to Quirino province, and Bagac, Bataan, and also in Subic for a forum on Responsible Travel, which also showcased some great things happening in the country, travel-wise.

It just made me re-realize that, damn, there really is so much to see here, and there’s so much work I could do here too. On top of all that, that month, I found out that I didn’t get the scholarship I had hoped for, and work opportunities I had applied for also fizzled out – less reasons to be in the Europe.

With a renewed appreciation for the beauty of my own country (in spite of the political mess and the bad rep we may have with foreigners as a result), and without clearer opportunities in Europe, doubt had begun to creep into what I previously thought was a stronger fortress that L and I built.

No matter where I went traveling or for however long, I would always regard the Philippines as home. And it seems that even if I did find something to do in Europe and managed to do some work in the Philippines (remotely for a large part), no compromise could be made for me to spend even a couple of months in the year back home.

The Unknown

We also did (or didn’t do) certain things that made our relationship stand on less solid ground, like not having a definitive date to see each other again, or making plans but having work constantly get in the way, or simply not being as present (even virtually) for each other. It didn’t help that we would have these conversations over Skype calls (or worse, through What’s App messages) vs. in person where we could kiss and make up to make each other feel less shitty. Repeatedly watching La La Land did not help either.

There was also the issue of kids, which had been brought up before but not thoroughly discussed. While L would say he didn’t know where in the world he would be or what exactly he would be doing in a couple of years (he claimed he was not a planner like that), one thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to have kids eventually, whenever that would be.

I’ve never been comfortable with the idea of having my own children, so much so that I’d already told my mother years back not to expect any grandchildren from me. Though admittedly, he made me start considering it, thinking maybe I just hadn’t met the right person at the right time in my life yet. This is not to say that I now actually wanted children, or that he was necessarily the right person, or this was the right time, but he actually made me start to really rethink something I thought I had been so sure about for myself.

Lights Out

There were just too many things I would have to reconsider about how I wanted to live my life if we were to make things work. And so, with all these things combined, the fire that burned twice as bright, burned twice as fast. And before February was over, we had decided to break it off.

We busied ourselves with work, coped with the pain of the loss in our own ways. I thought I was okay; I remained fairly productive in the first couple of weeks of breaking up.

Then I struggled with a major logistical / organizational issue for the upcoming Muni Market (a month before it was scheduled to happen), and this really, really stressed me out for at least a good week. And after discussions with the concerned parties left the issue unresolved, I experienced something akin to a panic attack.

At some point during that ordeal, I posted “This too shall pass” as a status on Facebook, which prompted L to ask me if I was okay. I wasn’t.

And while I was glad he was concerned, it also opened an emotional floodgate. I couldn’t imagine life without him. We chatted a bit, but tried to keep some distance. I binged on This Is Us. I sent him a heartfelt email, and we agreed to go on a call when the craziness of the Muni Market was over. 

Limbo

Muni Market 2017, with its well-attended and well-received meetups with topics ranging from fashion, communication, food, travel and waste were a success. And the question again was: “When is the next one?”

When is the next one indeed? This was the second year that I ran it thinking, will this be my last one? Is it time to move on? But each time we run it, and we get feedback from the community that it was such a great experience for them, and that we need more of these, it makes me feel like what we do matters.

I constantly wonder if the work we do could essentially be done by some other groups, since from the time Muni was born, more like-minded groups have come up. But I am constantly told there is value here. It’s just about deciding how I might continue to serve the community while harnessing more of the value for myself as well vs. just getting caught up in the work.

Simultaneously, I felt like I made a mistake and broke up with L too soon, without having more discussions or exploring more options or waiting it out a little longer. And so I reached out, asking if we might continue trying. I gave him time to think. We went back and forth again about when we next be able to see each other. It was not an easy time.

From the time we got together, I had to condition my mind about living life one way, and then the other, and back again, and back again, and again, and again. Not knowing where to stand, and an extended feeling of not being on any solid ground is nerve-wracking and insanity-inducing.

Meanwhile, tired of feeling pathetic and taken for granted and generally not liking the person I was becoming, with a prompt to carry on with life without him (while he took more time to think), I did. 

I sought opportunities locally, and finally settled on a short-term consultancy project for a sustainable tourism project in El Nido, Palawan from May to June 2017. It kept me busy, like, really busy, that I had almost no time to think about my feelings.

By the time my project contract ended though, I thought it was also more than enough time for me to get a more definitive answer from L if I should stay or I should go. In April, I was ready to drop things to try again with him. But the longer it took for him to decide, the less confident I was that it would be a good decision. Perhaps it was just a refusal to let go of something that represented the happiest I had been so far, and an escape from the world as I know it.

And while the week before another fateful conversation in early July, we were making plans to see each other in August, our conversation was about us having our moment, and losing it. We lost it when we didn’t make firm plans to see each other in May. Or when we couldn’t make plans to see each other in March or April. Or perhaps we lost it earlier, when I left Madrid in January.

Whatever the case may be, it seemed that we were right to break up earlier in February. And we simply regressed when we should have been moving on.

With that sealed, clean and clear, I was on a fierce mission to move on. I made month-long travel plans (to leave within a week in a few days after that conversation), got back on Tinder with a vengeance, and sought comfort in the sea. I’ll save the details of that for ACT 5.

Suffice it to say that travel and the sea helps, and as much as I think I prefer nature vs. people, talking to certain people who you meet along the way helps more – whether it be about your heartbreak, or what you would like to do with your life moving forward, or simply learning from them, about them, and their life experiences. Tinder, not so much. Or if it does help, in my case, it only serves to make me realize what I don’t want (even when I thought it was what I wanted).

After a month of visiting friends and traveling through Negros and Cebu, I’m now back in Manila. I’m on the road to recovery from heartbreak, and hopefully sorting my shit out and getting my act together, as I’ve seen myself experience a Renaissance after going through these types of things. The only way out is through. And hopefully, I emerge from it better and brighter than before.

If you’ve read all the way to the end, thank you for sharing your time. I’ve only started to let you in on the story, and my personal, selfish dilemmas. Perhaps more reflections and insight will follow in succeeding posts. 

You may not agree with the choices I made or didn’t make, or how I’ve dealt with things, and you can keep your judgment to yourself. But if you empathize with anything I’ve said, or feel less alone, or possibly more hopeful that things will get better, then I send you love and high fives. 

To brighter days ahead, Jen