#i hate finals season!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i also have two papers to write

[treecakes]

wanted to work on assignments tonight but my migraine won’t go away

[lincolndjarin]

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 

“My entire Christmas bonus.” 

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 

“Please, Steve.” 

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 

Javier P. 

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 

Every single woman, except you. 

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 

Red chipped paint. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 

Probably. 

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 

Jesus. 

You know way too much about him. 

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected. 

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 

Javier traded for your name? 

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 

Javier’s office. 

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 

What a foolish question. 

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 

“So this is about the secret Santa.” 

Of course he wouldn’t get it. 

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 

Jesus you’re soaked. 

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

I hate you, too

Summary: Ruby is your acting rival as well as your sworn enemy. When you’re cast in the same movie, you struggle with the fight choreography, an area which your co-star excels at. What will you do when you have no choice but to swallow your pride and ask her for extra help?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, some adult humor, kissing, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, walked in on while changing, non-sexual knife play, clumsy!reader, publicity tweets, there was only One Trailer

Word Count: 6.6k (told you it’s a slow burn)

A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction, RPF Guidelines still stand. Morally, I refuse to write smut for Ruby Cruz. That being said, I miss writing smut!! Dying to write some Kit Tanthalos smut after this, if anyone has a request feel free to send it in. That being said, Ruby is always super fun to write for, and I hope y’all enjoy! :)

———

If you never saw Ruby Cruz again, it would be too soon.

You first encountered her shortly after moving to Los Angeles to pursue acting. During a meeting with your agent to discuss a contract, she entered unannounced, as if the office belonged to her.

“Hey Estelle, I’m here to pick up the ‘Mare of Easttown’ audition sides,” she stated, barely glancing in your direction.

Estelle handed her a stack of papers before introducing you. “This is Ruby Cruz, one of my regular clients. You two will likely be seeing a lot of each other.”

Ruby finally turned toward you, assessing you with her bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul. She gave you a curt smile, and offered her hand.

“Nice to meet you. Estelle’s the best; you’re gonna love her.”

You shook her hand as Estelle chuckled at the flattery, shaking her head and modestly dismissing it.

“Ruby has an audition next week for that ‘Mare of Easttown’ show… which reminds me! I think you could also be a good fit for that. We can discuss more later, but for now, let me at least get you the audition sides.”

Estelle began to gather nearby papers into a stack, stapling the corner before handing them to you. Excitement bubbled in your chest at the thought of acting in a show as notable as ‘Mare of Easttown.’

Ruby hummed, clucking her tongue as you flipped through the stack of papers. Glancing up at her from your seat, you could have sworn you saw her eyes squint, almost as if she now saw you as nothing more than competition.

“In that case, hope you break a leg.”

With a wave goodbye to Estelle, she left the office. You couldn’t place it at the time, but something about her tone felt… off.

The audition came and went, and it was just your luck that Ruby ended up landing the role. Of course, it became her breakout role, one that juiced up her resume and propelled her career.

Initially, it didn’t bother you that much; after all it was just one audition. However, given that you were both conventionally attractive actresses in the same age range, Estelle frequently recommended you for the same roles. You began to see her face at every single audition, and frankly, you were sick of it.

That’s not to say you lost every role to Ruby Cruz; sure she was your competition, but you both had your share of the limelight. She was Hazel Callahan in “Bottoms,” and you were Harper McCallington in “Out & Uncool.” While she was busy filming for “Willow” as Princess Kit Tanthalos, you starred as Empress Kian Thorne in a limited series entitled “Cottonwood.”

You were a tad jealous that Ruby landed a continuing series while yours was limited, so when you found out about “Willow” being abruptly canceled after one season, you couldn’t help but revel in the schadenfreude.

Despite your individual successes, you harbored a deep dislike for Ruby. Yes, she was pretty, with pale blue eyes and dark hair that offset her ivory skin, but watching her stride into every audition wearing that all-too-familiar smug smile only fueled your resentment and made your blood boil.

Several months after moving to LA, one particular audition day commenced with a morning from hell. You woke up groggy with your hair in a rats nest, and spent the majority of the morning battling with the bathroom mirror in an attempt to render yourself presentable. Once you could actually run a comb through it, a quick glance at a clock revealed you were running late. Hastily, you grabbed your resume, poured some of your roommates' leftover coffee into a travel mug, and dashed out the door in a race against time.

Curses flew out of your mouth while you sat in the infamous LA traffic, fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel while your eyes darted towards the clock.

Arriving at the audition site, you parked haphazardly and rushed to the entrance, coffee sloshing against your mug with every step. Pushing open the doors, you immediately caught sight of the very person you knew you would see but secretly wished you wouldn’t.

There was Ruby, sitting in the waiting room, too focused on studying her audition material to even notice you had walked in. She wore a white blouse with floral patterns, jeans, and white converse—an undoubtedly effortless outfit that looked so good on her, it genuinely annoyed you.

Shaking your head, you tried to push aside any thoughts of Ruby and focus on the audition. As you stepped towards the sign-in table, your notorious clumsiness struck as you mis-stepped and tripped over your own foot. Fortunately, you managed to catch yourself before face-planting, but you lost control of your mug, ending up spilling coffee all over your sworn enemy.

Ruby stood up in shock, the lukewarm liquid staining her white blouse and smudging the ink on her papers. She lifted her head, glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

“What the hell!” She exclaimed.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open in shock. “Shit, Ruby, I’m so…”

“You did that on purpose!”

The brewing apology halted at her accusation. Indignation swelled within you, and the urge to defend yourself took over.

“Excuse me? It was an accident! Jesus!”

“You don’t think I know you don’t like me?” She spat back. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?”

By now, everyone else in the waiting room was watching the two of you, while the stage manager at the sign-in table desperately tried to de-escalate the situation.

You felt your face flush at the unwanted attention as you attempted to lower your voice. “Ruby, I may not be your biggest fan, but I would never do something like that on purpose.”

“Oh please, I know your type. You would do anything to land a role, even if it’s underhanded!”

“For fucks sake, Ruby!” You rolled your eyes, exasperated at this conversation. “I land roles just fine on my own. Not everything is about you!”

“You’re seriously standing here telling me that ‘not everything is about me’ when you’re the one who ruined my blouse right before an audition?!”

“What is the meaning of this?!”

You and Ruby turned your heads toward the unidentified voice to see what appeared to be the director of the project standing in the doorway. He peered down at the two of you with an icy glare, while the stage manager stood next to him with her arms crossed.

A gulp involuntarily forced its way down your throat. You looked over at Ruby, who stood frozen with all the color seemingly drained from her face. Both of you waited with baited breath for the director's next move as his nostrils flared.

“Both of you. Out. Now.”

“There’s good news, and bad news.”

You and Ruby stared at Estelle from across her desk, shame and embarrassment radiating from the both of you. Last week's altercation at the audition made headlines on LA Twitter news, prompting her to call an emergency meeting to discuss next steps.

“You already know the bad news,” Estelle sighed. “Word got out about your little ‘stunt.’ As of right now, neither of you have great reputations in the Hollywood eye.”

Estelle turned to look directly at you, making you shrink in your seat. “Not many people want to work with an actor who would sabotage another actor’s audition to get a leg-up.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but immediately closed it upon seeing the look on Estelle’s face. She looked away from you, focusing her attention on Ruby next.

“And no one wants to work with a hothead who causes scenes and goes on public cursing sprees.”

Ruby squirmed under Estelle’s scrutiny, looking down at her lap to avoid eye contact.

Estelle leaned back in her chair, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “Fortunately, there is some good news.”

Your ears perked up at this, curious as to what kind of good would come out of this kind of publicity. Glancing over at Ruby, you noticed she raised her gaze while still keeping her head lowered. Estelle continued.

“Another director caught wind of the situation and contacted me immediately. Apparently, he’s been toying with this idea for a movie about two rival mafia bosses who go undercover as high school cheerleaders. He is adamant that the two of you play the leading roles.”

Shock painted your features as you attempted to process what Estelle just told you. You looked over at Ruby, who seemed just as bewildered as you.

“So, this director wants to work with two people who can’t stand each other?” She inquired.

Estelle shrugged. “I’ve been told he’s very… method. Authenticity is everything to him, no matter what the consequences. Still, people say to trust his process because he’s extremely brilliant.”

She pulled out a couple business cards and handed them to the both of you, his name in thick black font jumping out from the white background.

Calvin Cunningham. Film Director.

Calvin Cunningham turned out to be quite the character.

He was brutally honest, always saying exactly what he thought of something. He engaged with the cast and crew as if they were his best friends, but if something wasn’t up to his standards, he never hesitated to voice his dissatisfaction.

His methods were eccentric and unusual, with an unwavering commitment to authenticity. They were unorthodox, but if they proved to be effective, he couldn’t care less about the cost.

On the first day of shooting, after being given your trailer assignment, you were about to go inside when you saw something that made you stop dead in your tracks. There, hanging on the back of the trailer door, was a big gold star with two names engraved into it.

Yours… and Ruby’s.

Outraged, you turned and marched towards Calvin, only to find him already in conversation with a head of loathsome brunette locks.

“This has to be some mistake,” cried Ruby. “I can’t share a trailer with her!”

“Ditto.” You piped up, moving to stand next to your rival.

Calvin shook his head. “No mistake. You guys can’t stand each other, and I want to maintain that energy throughout filming. I figured some forced proximity could help to fuel that fire.”

“Please, Calvin. I will literally share with anyone else,” you pleaded, words falling on deaf ears as Calvin simply turned and walked away from the two of you.

Ruby turned to glare at you with shrunken pupils, and you reciprocated with a side-eye right back. As you both began your way over to your shared trailer, you couldn’t help but acknowledge: this might be the first time you and Ruby actually agreed on something.

Filming was going well, all things considered. You and Ruby spent your days on set, hashing out all your hatred towards each other in front of the camera, and then pretty much ignored each other otherwise.

Changing could be slightly awkward, given the shared trailer, but you and Ruby had an unspoken agreement to keep to yourselves. Nevertheless, the trailer was a tight space, allowing you to see everything within your peripheral vision. Despite your disdain for Ruby, you couldn’t help but admire the delicate curve of her tapered waist and how it contrasted against her toned stomach. Even you could appreciate how her hair became disheveled every time she lifted a clothing item over her head, prompting her to shake it out until her short tresses tumbled over her shoulder.

You chalked it up to vanity, but sometimes you swore you caught her checking you out from the corner of her eye, too.

One day, while checking your schedule for the upcoming week, you noticed a choreography rehearsal planned for the big knife fight scene towards the end of the movie. Dread immediately consumed you, settling in your stomach like a boulder reaching the bottom of a hill.

It wasn’t because you were worried about getting into a knife fight with Ruby; you knew the weapons were harmless props and posed no threat to your safety. You dreaded any kind of choreography rehearsal, as you were notoriously an uncoordinated klutz. It was like you bore a curse of delayed reaction times and two left feet—a burden that weighed on your shoulders like an anchor.

On the day of the rehearsal, you walked into the stunt room to see Ruby already there, stretching in yoga pants and a crop top that hung just below her ribcage. Calvin stood in the corner conversing with the choreographer, Lucas: an effeminate man with a muscular build that offset his short stature.

Minutes after you started stretching, Lucas blew his whistle, calling you and Ruby over to the center of the room.

“Hey guys! Hope you’re as excited as I am to do some fight choreography.” He chirped, flashing a toothy grin.

While Lucas spoke, your attention shifted to Ruby. She stood confidently, her hands resting on her hips as she listened for instructions. You rolled your eyes. Of course she was confident, she had plenty of combat training during “Willow,” and even more during “Bottoms.”

As much as you hated to admit it, this was one area where Ruby outshone you.

“In this scene,” Lucas explained, handing each of you a prop knife labeled with your characters names. “Quinn and Gia both realize they’re from rival mafia families, and draw their weapons at the regional cheer competition.”

You turned the knife over in your hand, running your thumb over the “Quinn” sticker on the handle. “Is this… a real knife?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes, but it’s been dulled for your safety. Don’t worry.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing your lack of coordination posed less of a threat now.

Lucas continued. “For the first part, Quinn, advance towards Gia with the knife raised, like you want to slit her throat. Gia, sidestep and dodge her attack.”

You positioned your knife and lunged at Ruby, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding after she successfully avoided the blade.

Lucas nodded in approval. “Great! Now Gia, advance towards Quinn with your weapon, and she’ll block and engage.”

Ruby lunged at you, but when you tried to block her attack, the knife slipped from your grip and fell from your hand. Your face flushed as you stared at the blade, now lying on the plush mat.

“What was that?” Calvin interrupted, still watching from the corner of the room.

Lucas shot him a sheepish grin. “It’s ok, Calvin. It’s just the first rehearsal.”

Calvin grumbled incoherently as you bent down to pick up your knife. You noticed Ruby’s lips curl into a subtle smirk at your mishap, provoking an eye-roll from you.

“Let’s try that again,” Lucas stated. “This time, Gia, why don’t you try advancing a little slower?”

Ruby nodded, and moved towards you seemingly in slow-motion. This time, you managed the block successfully and engaged your weapons without issue.

Lucas beamed in approval. “Great! Let’s move on.”

He went on with instructions, leading you through the engagement of your weapons. Despite the slow pace, you repeatedly made a fool of yourself throughout the entire rehearsal. Sweaty palms hindered your grip on the knife, and you even managed to confuse your left from your right. Calvin stood fuming in the corner, while Ruby’s initially smug demeanor gradually turned into one of annoyance.

“Alright,” Lucas started, wiping his brow and forcing a tight smile. “For this last part, Gia, focus on disarming your opponent, and then tackle her. Quinn, this should be pretty easy. All you have to do is keep yourself open and fall.”

You gulped and assumed the ‘ready’ position, locking eyes with Ruby. She advanced, carefully redirecting your blade before grabbing your shoulders to push you onto your back. Unfortunately, as you were going down, a misstep caused you to lose your footing. Your arms flailed out of instinct, and in the search for stability, you inadvertently dragged the blade across Ruby’s cheek, leaving a bright red cut in its wake.

Startled, she hissed and dropped you onto the mat, hands moving to cradle her injured cheek. “Ouch! What the hell?!”

Calvin and Lucas rushed to Ruby’s side while you stared at your freshly-bloodied knife and tried to process what had just happened. “I thought you said they were dulled!”

“Well yeah, but they’re still real knives!” Lucas exclaimed, moving Ruby’s hand to see the cut.

A stream of apologies flew from your mouth immediately, but Ruby only responded with an icy glare and Calvin mumbled something about the makeup artist before storming out of the room. A lump rose to your throat as you blinked back tears, humiliated and filled with guilt. Once again, your clumsiness managed to ruin things for the people around you.

As you got up to leave the room, you looked back and met Ruby’s gaze. This time, instead of annoyance or anger, her face held only a look of pity as she watched you walk away.

At the end of the day, after you and Ruby were no longer needed on set, you found yourself standing outside your shared trailer, hands wringing in anticipation for what you were about to do.

Despite your best efforts, you knew your struggle to grasp the fight choreography was impeding production. Ruby, on the other hand, excelled at stage combat. You needed the extra practice, and Lucas had already gone home. After several hours of contemplation, you resolved to set aside your pride and seek help from your sworn enemy.

With a deep breath, you entered the trailer. Ruby was already inside, dressed in yoga pants and a sports bra, clearly in the middle of changing. You felt your cheeks flush as she spun around, revealing a neon green band-aid on her right cheek.

“Ever heard of knocking?” She spat, covering herself defensively.

Your brows furrowed in disbelief. “It’s my trailer too!”

She scoffed, turning around to finish putting her shirt on. You sighed, knowing the odds were already not in your favor.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” you began, prompting her to look back at you, puzzled. “Not about the trailer, but about the knife, and the coffee, and just… everything. I know you think I’m out to get you, but I’m not, I’m just really accident-prone, and for that I’m sorry.”

Her gaze softened slightly, and she nodded, silently accepting your apology. You continued, avoiding eye contact for what you were about to ask.

“Listen… I need your help.”

Your words took her by surprise. “With what?”

“Fight choreography,” you pressed. “I know we don’t really get along, and I wouldn’t ask if I had literally any other option, but you’re incredible at stage combat. Please, I could really use the practice.

“No argument there,” she snarled. “But why should I help you?”

“Because we’re co-stars, if I look good, you look good. Besides, do you really want to risk another one of those?” You gestured to the band-aid on her cheek.

Ruby touched the bandaged wound, wincing from the pain.

Defeated, she groaned. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only on two conditions.”

She stepped closer until she was inches from your face, close enough that her warm breath grazed your skin. You felt the sharp jab of her finger in your chest as she locked eyes with you.

“First, during training, you do everything I say, exactly as I say it. And second…” she moved back, crossing her arms with a smirk. “…you owe me a favor.”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “What do you want?”

“I’ll let you know when I think of something,” she replied. “As of right now, we have a fight to train for.”

You followed her to the stunt room, now fully unoccupied as most of the crew had gone home. Ruby switched on the lights and made her way to the props table while you took your spot on one of the mats.

“Hmm,” she scrunched up her nose as she picked up the knives you had used to train earlier. “I really don’t trust you with a weapon right now. No offense.”

“None taken,” you replied, pleasantly surprised at the lack of offense.

Ruby moved around the room in search of a safer substitute. She ended up at a supply cabinet, and sifted through it until she proudly held up a miniature pool noodle.

“Noodles!” She announced, grabbing one and handing you another.

“Perfect,” you exhaled, relieved.

Ruby assumed the ‘ready’ position across from you while you mirrored her stance, gripping the pool noodle as if it were your knife.

“Alright,” she started. “Why don’t we skip the exposition, since there’s no issues there. Let’s jump to the weapon engagement.”

You stepped forward, engaging with Ruby’s noodle. She nodded in approval before continuing the choreography.

“Left, right, no… right. Wait… do you not know your left from your right?”

Embarrassed, you dropped your gaze to the mat. “I do… I just… have to stop and think about it sometimes…”

Ruby chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I am totally going to give you shit about that later, but for now, let’s just work on muscle memory.”

She moved behind you, reaching around to take hold of your wrists before leaning into whisper. “Is this ok?”

A shudder traveled down your spine as her breath tickled your ear, a subtle expression you prayed she didn’t notice. “Y-yeah… you’re good.”

The way her fingertips brushed so gently against your skin felt like a million tiny shocks of electricity, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she guided your dominant hand through the movements. “Over, under, around and right.”

She repeated the sequence once more before letting go of you, stepping back to observe. “Show it to me.”

You demonstrated flawlessly, earning a beam of approval.

“Good. Let’s move on.”

From there, Ruby continued to guide you through the combat sequence in its entirety, stopping repeatedly to work out the kinks and offer helpful tips. She taught you where to hold your body weight so you didn’t stumble, and even showed you how to look like you fell on purpose, if necessary. As much as you hated the girl, you had to admit, she was a pretty good teacher.

Eventually, after hours of training, you reached the last step of the routine. Both of you were drenched in sweat and panting hard, but determined to make it to the end.

“Now…” Ruby rested her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. “Last but not least: the fall. So to start, I push down on your shoulders…”

She placed her hands near your collarbone and gently pushed, causing your arms to flail and smack her with the pool noodle. Immediately letting go of you, she took a step back with her hands up. You froze, expecting her to yell at you, but to your surprise she threw her head back in laughter.

“And that…” she pointed to the band-aid on her cheek “…is how this happened.”

You forced a nervous giggle in response as you stared at her hysterical disposition. Her laugh was crisp, almost melodic, like windchimes in a summer breeze. You weren’t quite sure what she found so funny; perhaps she was so tired from the long rehearsal, she collapsed into a state of hysteria.

Ruby calmed down after a minute or two, wiping away a tear as her breathing subsided. “So, I’m guessing you don’t like having your shoulders touched?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I guess it just feels constricting to have someone pushing me while I’m trying to fall safely.”

She clicked her tongue, seemingly deep in thought. “Hmm… why don’t we modify it a little bit? I could push you by your hips, let you fall, and then pin you down.”

“Can we do that?” You asked, concerned about getting into trouble again.

“Yeah, it’s not a huge change. I’m sure Lucas won’t mind. Besides, actor safety is always number one priority… and that includes my own.” She gestured to her cheek again with a lopsided smirk, prompting you to grimace apologetically.

You centered your body weight as she approached you, grasping your sides before letting her fingers wrap around your hip bones. She met your eyes, searching for approval.

“Better?” She asked.

Your voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper. “Yeah. Much better.”

“The most important thing,” she explained, “is to keep your body open.”

She moved her hands from your hips up to your arms, positioning them until they were spread out on each side, as if you were preparing for a big hug.

“When I disarm you, move your arms to the side like this. That way, you’ll have more control over a fall, and I’ll have less chance of getting cut.”

You nodded in understanding as she took a step back, preparing for the attack.

“Slow motion, ok? No rush.”

She carefully walked towards you and grabbed your hips, pushing with gentle pressure. Keeping your body open, you fell safely to the mat, back flat on the floor and arms spread out to your sides.

Ruby stood over you wearing a look of pride and satisfaction before offering out her hand to help you up from the mat.

“Wow,” she exclaimed with a breathless chuckle. “I’m a really great teacher.”

You rolled your eyes at her familiar cocky attitude. “Mhm… so, is that it?”

“Not yet. One more time, from the top. Let’s put it all together.”

“Full speed?” You asked, getting into position.

She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, breathing heavily as she moved to stand across from you. “Don’t you dare hold back.”

On her count, you lunged at her with your noodle before she sidestepped and dodged the attack. She reciprocated with an advance of her own, prompting you to block it and successfully engage your props.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she called out. “Over, under, around and right.”

The two of you continued sparring, each movement now pristine and polished. Droplets of sweat scattered from your skin as your props flew at lightning speed, every advance met with a clean block or countered with the appropriate attack. It was like your bodies were in perfect sync, months of built up tension finally surfacing to glide seamlessly through combat.

As you reached the end of the routine, Ruby expelled your weapon, disarming you and prompting your arms to extend. She seized your hips, fingertips pressing into your plush sides, and pushed until you could fall safely. Back now flat against the mat, she crawled on top of you, straddling your hips while planting her hands on either side of your head.

Time seemingly froze as Ruby hovered above you, keeping you trapped underneath her. Her face was close, so close that you were panting into each other's mouths. You stared up at her, noticing her bright blue eyes had turned significantly darker, and you swore, just for a split second, you saw them glance down at your lips.

“You…” she panted, breathless. “Y-you…”

Your heart pounded in your chest, flustered from the mix of adrenalines. “W-what about me?”

“You… you smell… so bad.”

With that, she immediately picked herself off of you, leaving you lying in a heap on the mat.

Annoyed and confused, you sat up to glare at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she turned away from you and cracked her back. “We’ve been in here for awhile, and you really need a shower.”

“Look who’s talking,” you spat back. “Your hair is literally sticking to your forehead!”

She reached up, awkwardly brushing her hair out of her face while mumbling something incoherent. It was like the air around you had suddenly turned thick with tension, neither of you daring to speak up for fear of saying what you were both thinking.

You decided to break the silence. “What time is it?”

Ruby glanced at her watch. “Almost 1am.”

“Shit,” you responded, not realizing it had gotten so late. “Guess we should…”

“Yeah,” she cut you off.

Without another word, the two of you gathered your things to leave for the evening. On the way out, neither of you offered a “bye” or “see you tomorrow,” but both of you turned to glance back when the other wasn’t looking.

For the remainder of the week, you and Ruby avoided each other like the plague, but not necessarily in the way you had previously. Before, there was always a palpable negative energy looming between the two of you, something Calvin could exploit for the cameras. Now, your scenes read awkwardly, both of you too preoccupied the events of the other night to properly engage in animosity.

This shift in dynamic didn’t go unnoticed by the cast and crew, especially Calvin, who never hesitated to hide his frustration. He desperately sought chemistry, and realized that forcing you to share a trailer wasn’t cutting it anymore. At this point, he was willing to do whatever it took to reignite that spark.

One day, Calvin informed you that lunch would be served in the stunt room. It seemed odd, food being served in the industry equivalent to a trampoline park, but Calvin typically had some rationale behind his unconventional ideas, so you didn’t question it.

When lunch break rolled around, you walked into the stunt room to find it completely dark and empty, aside from Ruby, who stood in the center of the room looking confused. Upon seeing you, she froze.

“Uh… hey.” She muttered, pointing her gaze to the floor.

“Hey yourself,” you replied awkwardly. “Uhm, did Calvin tell you lunch was being served here?”

“Yeah, actually,” she furrowed her brow, glancing around the room. “But I haven’t seen any caterers or anything.”

“Weird, I wonder why he would-“

Suddenly, you were cut off by a door slam, followed by the sharp click of a lock. You and Ruby stared at each other, panic-stricken on your faces before rushing to try the door handle.

“What the… hey! Let us out!” Ruby shouted, pounding on the door after the handle wouldn’t budge.

As you watched Ruby struggle against the door, realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “Calvin!”

“What are you talking about?” Ruby growled.

“Think about it,” you explained. “He’s been frustrated with us all week, our scenes have sucked, he lied to both of us…”

Giving up on the door, Ruby leaned against it and turned to glare at you. “You think he locked us in here on purpose?”

You shot her a knowing look. She groaned frustratedly, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her head back against the door.

“That is exactly something he would do,” she exclaimed.

“Someone’s going to sue that man one day,” you huffed.

Ruby snickered in agreement. “Why don’t we?”

“Pretty sure that would require us to actually talk to each other.”

Silence fell between the two of you, as what was supposed to be a lighthearted joke turned into you accidentally addressing the elephant in the room.

“It’s not like we ever talked much before…” Ruby muttered, breaking the silence.

“That’s not true,” you argued. “We used to bicker constantly. Now we’re just… weird.”

“This whole week has been weird.” Ruby agreed.

“Why?” You pushed, squinting at her. “You helped me out with a fight scene, and now we’re like two twelve-year-olds at a middle school dance. How does that make sense?”

“I don’t know! I just…” Ruby sighed exasperatedly, and put her head in her hands.

Your gaze softened as you realized the brunette was struggling with her words. Usually, she radiated confidence, an attribute of hers that made you burn with jealousy. Now, she exuberated hesitance like you’d never seen, with her body backed up against the door and her face covered with her hands.

You took a step towards her, and spoke softly. “Ruby, you and I both know we’re not getting out of here until we start talking.”

Realizing you had a point, Ruby groaned and dropped her hands. She refused to look you in the eye, instead opting to stare at your feet while she searched for the right words.

“When we were… fighting,” she began, chewing on each word as if it were molasses. “There was a moment where… I had you pinned…”

She swallowed involuntarily at the blatant description. Your face flushed, but you nodded in an attempt to coax more out of her.

“I was looking down at you… and… I guess… I just realized… maybe I don’t… hate you… as much as I thought I did.”

The moisture drained from your mouth as her confession caught you completely off guard. Half of you had the urge to make fun of her, and the other half just wanted to grab her shoulders and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

Instead, you decided to probe on. “You don’t?”

“I don’t think I ever did,” she confessed in a half-whisper. “I never really got to know you before, I think I just… saw you as competition. I mean, you were at every audition, how could I not? I think my mind just filled in the blanks? I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you know?” You asked, moving closer and causing her breath to hitch as she was caught between you and the door.

“I think… no, I know… you don’t… hate me either?”

She apprehensively searched your features for an answer, as what was supposed to be a statement came out as more of a question. You nodded, prompting her to exhale in relief before continuing.

“I know that I don’t have to see you as competition. I know that it may have taken me a while to realize it, but the time we’ve spent together on set has been the best month of my life. I know that I hate feeling vulnerable, so if you ever tell anyone about this I’ll deny it… and then I probably actually will hate you.”

You chuckled at her joke, and she began to relax as a warm smile spread across her face. By now, you had moved close enough that your faces were mere inches from each other, and you could just barely hear her breathing over the pounding of your heartbeat.

“So… what now?” You asked, secretly hoping for one specific answer.

She glanced down at your lips, eyeing them hungrily as she hesitated. “I, uh… I think I know… what I want that favor to be.”

Your eyes widened, surprised at her sudden bold demeanor. But as you gazed at her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and eyes filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension, you knew there was nothing in the world that could stop you from fulfilling that favor.

Grabbing her jaw, you brought her face closer and crashed your lips together. A small gasp escaped her lips at first, but she soon grasped at your sides and started to kiss back. Her lips were soft, but her kisses were rough and passionate, something you weren’t surprised at given her usual fiery personality.

Her middle finger wrapped around one of the belt loops on your jeans, giving her leverage to pull you closer to her. A quiet whimper erupted from the back of your throat, the feeling of her body pressed against yours being enough to make your knees buckle. You grabbed onto the back of her neck for support, simultaneously pulling her towards you even more and spurring moans of approval from your newfound lover.

Eventually, you pulled apart, both of you gasping to catch your breath, but neither of you letting go of the other. As you stood there, wrapped in Ruby’s embrace, you couldn’t help but survey her features. Her eyes had darkened from overwhelming desire, and her lips were pink and puffy, coated with your saliva. Her originally shiny brunette locks were now disheveled, stray hairs sticking out from the static electricity of being thrust against the door.

She was a mess, but in that moment, you swore you had never seen anything more beautiful.

A breathy chuckle left her parted lips, breaking the silence. “I, uh… I was actually just gonna ask if you knew how to pick a lock.”

Your jaw dropped in shock as you stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”

She shook her head no, erupting into laughter at her own joke. You glared at her, unamused, but soon found yourself stifling a giggle. Enemies or otherwise, Ruby was always going to be a sarcastic hothead, and nothing could change that.

“Wow…” she sighed breathlessly.

“I know…” you agreed. “Guess we should thank Calvin, huh?”

Ruby began to chuckle before her eyes suddenly widened in horror. “Shit, Calvin!”

“Yeah?” You questioned, confused at her change in demeanor. “What about Calvin?”

“He casted us together because we hated each other,” she whisper-screamed, eyes darting between you and the locked door. “Everything he’s done has been to fuel the fire: forcing us to share a trailer, locking us in here! He wants us to hate each other, he doesn’t care what it takes! If he finds out about this…”

Panic washed over you as your mind swarmed with possible things Calvin would do to taint your relationship if he found out about your feelings for each other.

“Shit,” you exclaimed. “What do we do?”

Ruby pursed her lips, deep in thought as she racked her brain for ideas. Suddenly, as if a lightbulb went off in her head, she turned to you with a wicked grin.

“We’re actors,” she replied. “We act.”

Gripping your shoulders, she walked you backwards before letting go and returning to her original position. Confusion painted your features; you didn’t know what Ruby was up to, but you were curious to find out.

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” she exclaimed loudly. “In fact, you’re the last person I’d ever want to be stuck filming with!”

Her sudden shift in attitude left you puzzled and a little hurt, but you quickly understood her intentions after she shot you a sly wink.

“Oh yeah?” You retorted, playing along. “Right back atcha! In fact, if I never saw you again, it’d be too soon!”

Ruby stifled a laugh before quickly getting back into character. “I hate you!”

“I hate you more!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

At this last remark, the sharp click of the lock sounded again, and the door swung open. Calvin stood in the doorway, a huge ear-to-ear grin spread across his face.

“Welcome back, you two.”

He left the door open, and motioned for you to follow him out. You started to exit the room, but as soon as Calvin’s back was turned, Ruby grabbed your wrist and spun you around to capture your lips in hers once again.

A sharp inhale echoed against the back of your throat as she took you by surprise, but you pulled her close and kissed her back in a heartbeat. This kiss was different from the last, with the newfound excitement mixing with the terrifying prospect of being caught. The rush of adrenalines had never tasted so sweet.

Ruby pulled back with haste, immediately looking over her shoulder to make sure Calvin didn’t see. When the coast was clear, she turned back to you with half-lidded eyes.

“I hate you,” she muttered, a goofy grin spreading across her face.

You giggled, covering your mouth to suppress the sound before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“I hate you, too.”

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Two

Summary:

You really want to get Astarion back for making you feel so flustered, but as a result you find yourself in a bit of an uncomfortable position.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 3.7k Tags/Warnings: unprotected p in v sex, under-the-desk blowjobs, semi-public sex, vampire bites, modern au, college/university au, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, poor gale doesn't deserve this

Oh shit she's writing? I had like six other things planned but I can't keep away from this world. Once again thank you @zipzoomzaria for the beautiful screenshots and also the inspo for Professor Astarion, and @aw11tht33tha for the beta!

You don't need to have read part 1 for this part to make sense, but it does help.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

Ever since you slept with Astarion - or, perhaps more accurately, he fucked you mercilessly over his desk - you haven't been able to get him out of your head. It's been a little embarrassing, frankly. Every time you pass him in the hallway, a single glance over those round wire frames has you suppressing the moan that bubbles in your throat. One whiff of his fragrance and your pussy clenches in a Pavlovian response.

You're standing in front of your mailbox in the main office, reading some memo from the chair about season selection for next year. It's always a tedious process where no one can agree and you somehow all end up with shows you hate.

You smell him before you hear him, and you can feel your ears grow hot. He comes up behind you, standing closer than is probably necessary, and reaches above you to empty his own mailbox.

“Pardon,” he says politely, but you feel like he’s going out of his way to brush against you. A shiver runs down your spine as he very gently grazes the back of your neck while shuffling through the papers. 

He turns and starts chatting amicably with Grace. How can he stay so cool when you're practically in shambles? You pretend that you're still reading the short memo just to collect yourself. When he finally leaves the main office, you manage to turn around and imitate some semblance of a normal person. Grace catches your eye and frowns.

“Are you feeling okay? You're looking a little flushed,” she asks, genuine concern coloring her voice. You twist your face into a smile, hoping that it reads like gratitude rather than annoyance.

“Yeah, I'm fine, thank you. Probably just a little dehydrated,” you say, putting a little extra rasp in your voice to sell your story.

“I’m about to leave for lunch, I can grab you something from the student union, if you're thirsty.” She smiles sweetly, fully unaware of the double entendre.

“I'm good, I have some water back in my office. I appreciate the offer, though.” The smile is now plastered to your face as you move to leave the office. You bump into Karlach while trying to make a hasty exit.

“Gods, soldier, you okay? You look like you just got out of a sauna.” She claps you on the shoulder and your knees buckle. The technical director had spent 10 years in the army, so you can't really fault her for the nickname, or the smack to the shoulder, for that matter.

“Just a little thirsty, is all,” you reply, continuing to scoot your way out of the office. 

“Yeah ya are!” She points two finger guns at you and flashes a big suggestive smile. You freeze for a half second, then realize she’s making a generic lewd joke and not pointedly calling you out for your current condition. You awkwardly finger gun back as you finally slip through the doorway and book it to your office.

You sit down at your desk and grab your water bottle, taking a long sip. It's unbelievable how much of a hold he has on you. What you wouldn't give to be able to fluster him as much as he does you. Have him struggle for words. Make him look like an idiot in front of your colleagues.

You think back to your bathtub fantasy from a few days ago. You could not have predicted the dynamic more incorrectly. You really thought that you'd be the one in control, that you could have him coming undone for you. The image of him whimpering beneath you still sets your heart racing, though it can't be further from the truth. Your breath hitches slightly as the scenario plays out vividly in your mind, like your own personal erotica.

“It must be rather exciting, whatever's got your blood going that way.” His sultry voice interrupts your debaucherous thoughts and you yelp in surprise. You glare at him leaning in the doorframe, hands in his pockets and collar casually unbuttoned, looking like an absolute treat. He chuckles and saunters into your office, settling into one of the chairs across from your desk and crossing his lithe legs. Despite your newfound attraction, he's still an arrogant little shit.

“I thought you couldn't come in uninvited,” you scowl, keeping your voice low for fear of someone overhearing.

“I don't recall being invited last time, but you didn't seem to mind,” he says with a laugh, and you squirm under his piercing red gaze. “Regardless, the rule only applies to homes, not individual rooms within a public university.”

Your frown deepens, unsure if he's being condescending or not.

“Is there something I can help you with, or are you just here to frustrate me?” You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, trying to imitate his casual authority. You're not terribly successful.

“You seem to be doing that perfectly well yourself, the way I could hear your arteries pumping from down the hall.” His smile widens, flashing just a hint of fang, and your resolve weakens. He stands and stretches his arms above his head, his shirt raising just enough for you to see a sliver of porcelain skin. You’re positive he’s just doing this to annoy you.

“Well, when you have a free moment, stop by my office, I have something to show you,” he drawls, an almost bored lilt coloring his tone. “And do try to keep that pulse of yours under control, it’s distracting to the point of vulgarity.” He glances at you over his glasses one more time before retreating into the hall again.

You cross your legs, trying to ease the ache between your thighs. He's absolutely insufferable. And he’s so much worse now that he knows he has this power over you.

You gather your materials for Voice and Speech, plotting ways to enact your revenge.

***

Against your better judgment, you find yourself walking toward Ancunín’s office after class. You take a moment before knocking on the door, smoothing down the front of your dress and tousling your hair to give it a little more volume.

Suddenly the door opens and Mol comes barrelling out in a huff.

“D’you believe this berk? Gettin’ on my tail for ‘academic integrity.’ Ain't nobody more integrous than me!” she grumbles, adjusting her bag angrily. She turns her heated gaze to you.

“Can you talk to your boyfriend and tell him to leave me alone?” she spits and you splutter involuntarily.

“Mol, we’re not–”

“Come off it, miss. Everyone sees the way you look at ‘im. Just work your magic so I can get back to gettin’ a college education.” And without another word, she's off. You blink, trying to make sense of what just happened. Are the students talking about the two of you?

Shaking your head, you knock on the door frame as you walk into his office. It's just as cozy as last time, warm light emanating from lamps in every corner to compensate for the blackout curtains over the windows. Honestly, how does anyone not know he's a vampire? You can almost hear his excuse, something about how “direct sunlight is ruinous to one’s skin.”

“Destroying students' lives by keeping them academically honest?” you smirk as you gently close the door behind you with your foot. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I swear, that girl is too clever for her own good. I'd almost respect it if she didn't get on my last nerve,” he sighs, putting his glasses back on and glancing up at you. His expression softens for a second before quickly shifting to mischievous. You slide over to him, leaning against the edge of his desk as you face him.

Any animosity you may have held dissolves as he looks up at you, his hand absentmindedly stroking your thigh just under the hem of your skirt. You shiver as you try to keep your voice steady.

“You said you had something to show me, professor?” You emphasize the title with the gusto of a young porn star. He smirks and pulls you down until you're straddling his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and grind your hips into him, feeling the beginnings of an erection. He lets out a little puff of air that can almost be mistaken for a moan. He buries his face into your tits, running his nose along the neckline of your dress and slides his hands under your skirt to cup your ass. You breathe in sharply, your breasts rising to meet his lips.

Then a knock at the door.

You both freeze and stare at one another. You hear a muffled voice on the other side.

“Dr. Ancunín, do you have a minute? I have something extremely important to tell you,” Dr. Dekarios from the School of the Weave shouts through the door.

Astarion instinctually replies, “Just a minute!” and the two of you share a wordless exchange.

-What the fuck are you doing?

-I don't know, I panicked!

-What am I supposed to do?

-Hide, perhaps?

Without thinking you slide off his lap and under the desk. Just in time, too, as Dr. Dekarios doesn't wait for Astarion’s permission to open the door and waltz right in.

“Dr. Ancunín, thank goodness, I hope I'm not interrupting anything.” You can hear the Arcana History professor rush in and eagerly sit down in the red velvet lounge chairs across from Astarion’s desk. You groan internally as you realize that you might be stuck here for an unbearably long time.

“Actually, Dr. Dekarios, I was on my way out,” Astarion says as he starts to stand before quickly reversing that decision. You realize with a smug sense of satisfaction that he’s still slightly aroused.

“Completely understand, I'll keep this brief, then. So, the other day, you and I spoke of the use of bardic magic and its position amongst playwrights in Renaissance England.”

“Yes, I recall,” Astarion responds through gritted teeth. He sinks back down in his chair,  resigned to sitting through this conversation.

“And how it was common practice at the time to use magic from the college of swords as decreed by Elizabeth? Ben Jonson, Marlowe, Beaumont and Fletcher, they all used college of swords magic.” Dr. Dekarios’ voice increases in pitch with his excitement. You suppress a sigh, preparing yourself for a long wait in this cramped space. It’s not particularly comfortable, especially with trying to keep out of the way of Astarion’s long legs.

Although…

You might not have to keep out of the way. Maybe if you just… brushed your hand along his leg…

Astarion coughs to hide the sudden intake of breath your touch causes. He crosses his legs and you smile knowing it's to give himself a little reprieve. A feeling you know all too well.

“Yes,” Astarion says, his voice frustratingly steady, “I recall your enthusiasm in telling me this.”

You're trying to read his response. Is he into this? Is this a game he wants to play? You test your luck again, dragging your fingers up his thigh more deliberately. His leg quivers and he shifts his posture as the Arcana professor continues.

“Well, I had a thought. Consider this: Shakespeare brought about a major shift in how we think of the Western theatrical canon as it pertains to bard magic, correct?”

You scooch forward and press your tits into his knees that are now pinched tightly together. You slide your hands up his inner thighs, prying them apart slightly. You lean into his legs further as your hands continue their journey upward, squeezing as they get to the top of his thigh.

He kicks suddenly, a soft thump into the back of the desk. Is he telling you to stop? You pull back and glance up at him, the top of the desk obscuring most of his face. He's stiffly nodding along to Dekarios’ rambling.

“And remind me, what other major storytelling convention did Shakespeare also shift during this time?” You honestly can't tell if he’s actually asking, or giving Astarion a mini exam in his own specialty.

You wait for a response from him. He lets his thighs fall open and gently nudges your hip with the side of his shoe. No, his foot.

This mother fucker is playing footsie with you?

Oh he is definitely into your little game.

You push his legs open again, this time sliding your hands all the way up to his cock, and you feel it twitch beneath the wool of his pants. You gently stroke him and his hips give a subtle twist into you.

“I'm not sure–” Astarion begins, but stops short when his voice cracks. You nuzzle his bulge,  running your lips across it as it hardens. You slip a hand under him and give his balls a gentle squeeze. You can hear his breath stutter, but it's unlikely Dekarios can as he quickly answers his own question.

“The humors, correct? My understanding of non-magic literature isn't fully up to snuff, but I am correct in remembering this, yes?”

You lick a fat stripe across the fabric and you hear a metallic click above your head, like his watch just made sudden contact with the surface of the desk. You can imagine the veins in his hands bulging as he clasps them together tightly.

“Hm, no, ah yes, you are correct. Most English Renaissance playwrights understood characters as a balance or imbalance of the four humors.” Astarion manages to keep his voice relatively even, and you know you need to up your game. You reach up to undo his belt buckle as quietly and efficiently as possible. Luckily, you’re able to hide the noise within Dekarios’ exclamation.

“Yes! That's exactly what I was thinking! So, hear me out. What if these two shifts were related? In moving away from college of swords magic, Shakespeare felt less constrained by the four humors. Or perhaps the other way around?”

You reach into his pants and free his cock, now fully hard, and tease your fingers along his shaft. His hips buck a little more forcefully, as though controlling his movement is growing more difficult. You grip his pelvis tightly, holding it in place, and relishing the fact that you have the control for once. You flick the tip of your tongue across his slit and his hips twitch again under your hands.

“Could be…” is all Astarion can manage to reply. Hopefully at this point Dekarios is in a full-on oration and he won't need to contribute much, if at all.

You pop the head of his cock into your mouth, working the underside of it with your tongue. You clamp your arms down on his thighs, pulling them closer to you and pushing them into your tits. Your inner thighs grow damp as your own arousal quickens. You squirm as a miniscule moan works its way into your mouth. Not loud enough for anyone to hear, you hope, but you're certain that Astarion can feel the vibration because his hips jerk again. His torso and face above, or at least what you can see of it, gives little away.

“And this could even,” Dekarios continues, showing no sign of awareness of anything else happening in the room, “signal the shift into realism, could it not? Beginning with Shakespeare and culminating with Chekhov and Ibsen in the nineteenth century?”

You take in more of him, relaxing your tongue and letting him fill your mouth, discovering his taste. He almost lifts off his chair in his attempt to thrust into you, and you use it as a way to take him in deeper. Your jaw is beginning to ache with how slow you're going, but it's worth it to feel Astarion’s frustrated discomfort.

You can hear him take a slow breath before speaking again.

“You know who would absolutely love this discovery of yours?” His voice is low, smooth, as you bob your mouth on his cock. “Tav, the classical theatre professor. Her office is right down the hall.”

You choke and he deftly covers the sound of your gag with a cough.

“Bless you,” Dekarios says after a fraction of hesitation. He continues as though there was no interruption at all.

“Then I shall share my findings with her! Down the hall, you say?”

“Room 208.”

“Excellent!” Dekarios stands and you wrap your hand around the base of Astarion's shaft, letting some saliva dribble out of your mouth to lubricate it. You can hear the wizard quickly make his way out the door.

“Gale!” Astarion yelps as you twist your hand and swirl your tongue in tandem. He clears his throat and corrects his decorum. “Dr. Dekarios, the door, please.”

“Oh, of course! Apologies,” he says with slight chagrin, and then you hear the latch on the door click. Astarion rolls his chair back and grabs your hair, pulling you out from under the desk.

“You saucy little minx,” he growls and you stumble forward and into his lap, your lips crashing into his. He easily tears through your leggings and underwear, exposing your dripping cunt to the open air.

This man is wracking up quite the clothing bill.

He slides two fingers into you, roughly stretching you out and you groan into his ear. 

“You didn't seem to mind,” you manage to squeak out, repeating his words from earlier with significantly less dignity. You grind onto his fingers with his cock trapped between you, and your clit slides against his shaft. Another shuddering breath rockets through you as your whole body clenches around him.

He yanks his hand out of you and you whimper at the sudden emptiness, but you don't need to wait long for him to grab your waist and sink you down onto his cock. You can feel the skin toward your perineum tear slightly but the stinging pain is nothing compared to the delicious stretch that comes with him bottoming out. He shoves his fingers in your mouth and you arch your back into him, the taste of your own juices flooding your tongue.

He keeps his other hand firm on your lower back as he thrusts up into you. You cling onto his neck, pulling his mouth toward your breasts as they rise and fall with your stuttering breaths. He takes his hand away from your mouth and slides the hem of your dress all the way up to your chin. His lips latch on to your nipple poking through the soft cotton of your bra.

“Gods, fuck,” you groan as you continue to roll your hips into his, and he flicks his tongue against your tit. You push down even further onto him and pull the cup down, pushing your now bare breast into his teeth. His eyes flicker upward, glasses sliding down his nose slightly. You bounce harder on his cock and grip the back of his neck tightly.

“Fuck, please, bite me,” you whine, aching to feel every part of him in you. He doesn't need to be told twice and he sinks his fangs into the sensitive flesh around your nipple. You cry out but try to stifle the noise by pressing your open mouth into his hair. You can smell that citrusy fragrance he wears and your fingers claw into him.

He sucks your blood out from around your tit, and with every swallow he laps his tongue against you, over and over. You're certain his devil tongue will be your demise.

Your pace increases and it becomes harder to suppress your moans. You clamp your mouth shut and bury your face into his ear. He releases your breast and roughly kisses you to keep you quiet, the taste of iron filling your mouth.

You come with an explosive cry that gets swallowed into his kiss. As you're still riding the wave of your orgasm you can feel his, his hips rutting as his dick throbs with the pulse of his semen.

The two of you finally slow, the sticky mess between you squelching lewdly. You listen intently past the sound of your heavy breathing to try to hear any indication that someone overheard. When you deem it safe, you let out a sigh of relief that dissolves into giggles. He drops his forehead into your shoulder as the hem of your dress gets overtaken by gravity and slides down your front

You disentangle yourself from him, wincing slightly at the feeling of him sliding out of your sore pussy. You get a better look at him, your blood still smeared on his lips and chin, his now-flaccid dick slumped above his waistband. You're certain you can't look much better, dress rucked up around your waist, hair mussed and sticking every which way. 

You methodically put yourselves back together, Astarion stuffing his wet dick back into his pants, you straightening your dress and hair. You catch his gaze again and somehow he still manages to make you blush, his crimson eyes peering over his frames. He reaches out to tuck a wayward lock behind your ear.

“Maybe next time we’ll have sex in your office,” he chuckles. You swat his chest playfully only to find yourself drawn into him, not wanting to pull your hand away. It's strangely romantic, and if you were able to think clearly, his hands snaking around your waist might bother you. But your head is still spinning and your cunt is still throbbing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and little could upset you right now.

That is, until the doorknob turns and Dekarios pops his head back in.

“Looks like she’s not–” His voice dies off quickly when he realizes what he's walked in on. He coughs, mumbles an incoherent apology, and backs out quickly.

“I swear to the gods I'm getting a scroll of arcane lock for that damn door,” he growls under his breath, and you lean your forehead against his chest in deflated embarrassment.

[eww-y-tho]

The hypothetical debates surrounding the whole "Lady and Lord Whistledown" vs "Colin and Penelope Bridgerton" make me wither because

Lady and Lord Whistledown.

I'm telling you, this shit would be so fucking funny. I can picture it in my mind's eye: Bridgerton season 4, we get a quick shot of Colin and Penelope talking shit and giggling like crazy in the background, maybe with some PDA to match because Colin can't keep his hands off her, only to hear a male voice actor of a similar calibre to our angel Julie Andrews join in sometimes while Charlotte picks up the paper and cackles. Obviously, the reveal would happen, but I want to believe that our Queen would be down for Whistledown to continue as long as it doesn't get too personal. It would be kind of unfair and a bit indicative of the period, monarchy and all, but Charlotte being in on it would amp up the comedy points. Plus some ~historical cultural commentary~ would just be that final flavouring of spice.

It would kind of feel like Colin's turning to the dark side because we've already seen quite a few scenes where he seems possessed by Lady Whistdown's attitude and I love the idea of him coming from hating Lady Whistledown's guts to protecting her and joining in because it's fun and it activated his little shit reflex. Plus the subtextual implications of just how much Colin and Penelope actually are best friends and are connected beyond normalcy would just be *chef's kiss*

I would also love it because it feels very partner-in-crime vibes, giving another aspect to their relationship that would be fun to see. Combined with the power Lady Whistledown has on the story, we'd be guaranteed to see our beans quite a lot. Also a "Hello, my Lady," followed by a "Hello, my Lord" after a particularly steamy scene would literally have me shaking crying giggling dancing kicking my feet.

As for Penelope, it honestly depends on how you view her character and her relationship with Lady Whistledown. If the person in question thinks that Lady Whistledown is a vital part of her personality, an aspect of who she is, limiting her by making her quit would just feel really, really sad, man. Lady Whistledown has caused Pen a lot of grief, however, and we see it a lot throughout the story, so I think Colin being there, sharing the secret and partaking would make her feel much more comfortable in her own skin.

Anyway. Love the idea, and would perish if it happened, but probably won't.

Colin and Penelope Bridgerton.

This one's more cute than anything else. Two writers as a couple release solo and joint works sometimes while establishing their reputation as respectable authors and leaving Lady Whistledown behind them. I can see another scene in my mind's eye, Colin and Pen are sitting across from each other on their respective writing desks, writing and then handing each other their work to review and give opinions, paired with a kiss after they start teasing each other about their writing. Considering that the designated Sexy Desk Scene has already been taken, this would have to be in a secluded area or in their bedroom. And then shots of people buying their books and enjoying them would ensue.

With the amount of journals and letters and things Colin's done, he's practically primed for an author's role. Maybe they can be more exposed to Colin's love for travel in this version. Having Penelope with him on his trips while writing their little hearts out would be adorable. Sadly, though, this would mean that they would probably have less screen time.

If you see Lady Whistledown as an outlet for the suffering Penelope was going through throughout the story, she wouldn't need Lady Whistledown anymore and abandon the alias because she's served her purpose as Penelope's coping mechanism, and Colin and Penelope would find their fix through other means. Maybe continuing to gossip but only between the two of them, going back to the beginning of the series and the final link to their relationship.

It's been established over and over again that they both love reading, writing, gossiping, and discussing all things philosophical. And each other for enjoying those qualities. So, I think this dynamic would be particularly interesting because it would be yet another way to connect. They could probably also make each other all hot and bothered by leaving random sexy letters sporadically, which would just be so fitting, tbh. However, that would also work for the Lady and Lord Whistledown dynamic so it's kind of a null point. It would be hot, though.

And, yeah, that's how I see those hypothetical dynamics playing out and how that would affect the characters. But now for the negatives. While I love the Lord Whistledown idea, I do think that Colin is a bit too nice and cute for that, and it would probably be a bit OOC, especially because of his personal experiences with Whistledown, it would be a bit weird if his tune suddenly changed to "yeah, I know gossip can ruin someone's life, but I like it now, so I don't care." But I also just can't fathom Bridgerton without Lady Whistledown, and this idea hinges on literally removing the narrator and source of all the tea, as well as making us lose our angel Julie Andrews. At least the Lady and Lord Whistledown idea fulfills almost all fronts of their relationship dynamic.

Again, as the GIF demonstrates, both are good, and I love both of them for the different ways they would take the characters, but let's be real, a combo would be really fun as well. Like Pen keeps up with Lady Whistledown while Colin writes his own books or smth.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Bye.

[synthetickitsune]

Vanishing Act ✧ y.jh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x gn!reader Genre: angst Summary: He's a coward. Knowing he's doing the right thing means little when he's doing it in the worst way possible - but it's the only way that Jeonghan's able to do it. Word count: 2.3k Warnings: abandonment, running away before the wedding A/N: On today's episode of why am i doing this to myself... ♫ Prásknu Bičem - Štěpán Kozub, Jiří Kohut ♫ What Could Have Been - Sting, Ray Chen

The morning mocks him.

Since when is it this bright this early?

Must be the ending spring. The season is slowly coming to an end and the blossoms fall, the colors step back to make room for the lively green. The animals will raise their young now.

He feels his heart in his throat. No, not his heart. More like a lump of something that's long since died and went cold. On a second thought, though, isn’t that what his heart is? Isn’t that what it feels like? Perhaps not entirely, but things would be easier if that was how it is.

His palms are sweaty, he's all sticky and disgusting with cold sweat. His own heartbeat is rushing in his ears. He can't hear anything. Everything he sees is a blur. Then again, that one is his own fault as he madly, almost hysterically keeps shaking his head and frantically looks around the room for anything that he could grab. Just one thing would be good enough.

He’d do anything to avoid looking at you but you’re all he can see.

The car will be here in about ten minutes. 

He needs to get a move on, but then he would need to focus and all he can focus on is you - still fast asleep and unaware. Right up to the last moment.

He went to great lengths to ensure it would stay that way.

He knows it’s cruel. He hopes it will make you hate him enough to forget everything.

He spots the note on your bedside table. The pieces of paper torn from his journal; the couple pages that he wanted to fill with words but that ended up empty, safe for a pathetic i'm sorry.

His hand still itches to reach for the papers, for pen, to write and to explain. He doesn't let himself give in. He knows the words would continue to evade him even if he tried. It’d be impossible to write anything that would justify the annihilation he's about to cause if he was the greatest poet to ever live.

Asking for forgiveness would be pointless and the greatest sin.

He doesn’t want you to hate him. He truly doesn’t. But he sees no other way this could end, and he understands. He’s not stupid. So he doesn’t ask for you to forgive him, yet even just those three lonely words seem like cowardice.

Because he is a coward.

A pathetic, no good coward that can't even look at you.

He knows if he did he wouldn't see you - not only you.

He would see the venue. 

The beautiful flowers you've spent weeks picking come to mind first. You’ve never fought, it was always you two having conversations and discussions that he wouldn't hesitate to call downright study sessions. It felt like going back in time to when you were students as you've set over books upon books on flower language. You both wanted the blossoms to be meaningful. 

Going through the final list in his head now, he has to bite down on his own fist to avoid screaming, to muffle the choked and broken sob tearing itself from his throat.

There are so many eternities, confessions of the purest forms of love, hopes and promises - all of them now empty. Or that's how you will see them, and maybe that's for the best.

Looking at you, he would also see the simple yet elegant white decor of the venue. The white that will turn into the color of sadness that it is. He will never get to see it filled with guests. And you will never get to wear the beautiful surprise he has to see - that he won't get to see for he’s not a masochist enough to look into the other room where it lies hidden. He won’t do that to himself. Though he supposes if it’s white you’ve decided to wear, it still might, appropriately, serve function as a mourning gown.

Will you choose to hurt yourself more? Not on purpose. He knows you won’t be able to help your curiosity. You won’t resist the dread. There, of course, will be no reason to trust him anymore, or he might’ve added to the poor imitation of a goodbye letter to not look for him, to stay away from the venue altogether. 

Why would you try to search for him, though? Isn’t his i’m sorry telling enough? Will you think he’s only teasing? He hopes not. He would never be so cruel as to joke about this. Even if he supposes it will look like this - your relationship, the next step you were supposed to take - was all a joke to him.

It wasn’t.

He wants you to know that, but he knows even if he tried telling you, you wouldn’t believe him. Not after what he’ll have done.

Every new thought feels like a punch to the gut and it makes him nearly double over. Will you walk down the aisle? Will you be crying? Of course you will, and it makes his heart shrivel up thinking about you looking for him, uselessly, with tears streaming down your cheeks. Will your parents be there? Will they hold you so you don't fall apart instead of guiding you forward to entrust you to him?

What will they think? Will they curse the man who hurt their baby? They should. They should curse him. Burn all the memories of him - the photos, gifts, all that he’s bound to forget or simply leave behind because he physically can't remove everything that’s his or that will remind you of him but oh, he would if he only could.

Your parents should finish the job if he can't. For once, they should ignore your cries and just do it.

Let him burn and turn to ashes for breaking your heart, for causing hurt so deep and irreparable that he knows you’ll never fully recover from it.

Jeonghan will carry the scar too, deep on his heart and soul.

How can he do this to you?

He can't think about it. He can't. He will lose his mind.

His fingers are pulling on the roots of his hair and he barely feels a thing even as some give way.

He’ll hurt you so bad.

He knows.

He wishes he didn't but he knows. He knows how much it will hurt. He’s suffering too, he’s hurting too.

But he has no right to hope for relief or to complain.

Knowing he's doing the right thing brings no comfort when he's doing it in the worst way possible. It's the only way he can do it, though.

He's been living in despair, he's driven himself crazy thinking about how to do this - how to hurt you as little as possible. There's no such way; nothing he can do to make this anything but destructive. And there's no other way to do it that he could pull off either. No other way he could go through with this without backing out.

How pathetic is he?

Sitting, collapsed, in the corner with both hands covering his mouth so that he doesn't wake you up, choking on his own sobs. He can't see through tears, and he has no right to, yet all he wants is to see you one final time.

He wants to see you so much. His heart can’t break any more. 

He needs to see you. 

Even though it means seeing all that will never come to be, all that he will regret not being able to give you.

Jeonghan knows what everyone is going to say about him - that he’s heartless, a sadist, and an asshole the world would be better off without.

He knows.

And they will all be right.

Then again, however, wouldn't the alternative be equally as cruel?

Because Jeonghan also knows that he could go through with the wedding. He could stay, he could live with you, could spend the rest of his life with you - and he’s helpless because he wants it so much it hurts.

He wants to keep waking up with you, he wants to keep coming home to you, wants to keep holding you, wants to feel your fingers in his hair.

He wants all of that, forever.

And perhaps that’s the problem.

No matter how much he wants it, he doesn’t feel it. Perhaps he just wants to be able to stay complacent in the life that seems like it’s been all laid out for him. The one route he could take and never have to worry again.

He wants it - for heaven’s sake he wants it so much, he wants it but it’s like he’s forcing himself to walk on burning embers. And that’s not what he wants. He wants it to be like before, for everything to flow naturally, not like he’s forcing it down his own throat only to satisfy everyone but himself.

He can do it for long enough, but he can’t do that for the rest of his life. 

His heart breaks, and he breaks, and his damn tears won't stop so he could look at you.

He wants so much.

But Jeonghan is anything but selfish.

As cold as the nights without you will be, they won't be as bad as the dread and the sinking feeling in his stomach that he got every time you’d talk about the future.

He doesn’t know where it came from, nor is he sure when it started.

All he knows is that he can't give you what you want.

Maybe it's just that the concept of marriage, all that it’s supposed to mean and be, is putting too much pressure on him. Maybe he's just not ready.

He doesn't know - he wishes he did, he wants to know what's wrong so bad that it’s killing him. Because if he knew, then he could solve it. He could ask for more time to work it out but while he wants you, imagining the married life makes his heartbeat race in a way that makes him nauseous and his throat closes up. He panics so bad that he can’t feel his limbs and gets paralyzed. All he can think of is running away somewhere; somewhere home where he will be isolated from time and the world.

Perhaps it's just that he only loves the idea of ‘you’. Someone familiar, loving, safe.

When did it all go wrong?

He wants to go back to when his love for you was bright and warm, not anxiety- and nausea-inducing.

He tried to change how he feels but he is only a flawed, imperfect human and some things are just beyond his control. If he thought about it deeply enough, he could figure out the pieces and recreate the bigger picture of how it all came to this. He could, it’d be so easy - but he's not strong enough.

He can't do anything but swallow whimper after whimper because his vision finally focused for long enough to see you.

You, who’s still sleeping so peacefully, relaxed and happy and satisfied. You’re almost glowing. Will you be able to ever lit up like that again? In your dreams, you must be married to him already. He must avoid robbing you of that as well.

He’s already taken, taking, so much.

Watching you, the list gets longer and his eyes overflow again.

You've always talked about having a family. 

Who's going to give it to you now?

It's nonsense but his eyes that are barely able to make out shapes through tears drift to the empty spot between your chest and your arm. A baby, a cat, a puppy - you’ve never decided properly - would fit there so nicely and snuggly. It would feel your warmth and the reassuring safety your embrace provides. He’d know.

It's just another thing he can't give you.

Another reason he needs to leave. To disappear.

You need to move on and forget him.

You need to hate him so much that you will make your life the best one out of pure spite.

He knows that's not how it works but he needs to pretend.

As the final act of self-preservation he needs to persuade himself you can be fine without him even if it will take a while. 

And he truly wants to believe that.

He can’t live in a world where he broke you without any hope of you ever getting better.

His phone starts buzzing in his back pocket and he wipes his face furiously before grabbing his backpack and the couple bags he’s packed and bolting out the door without looking back. If he turns back to steal one last look, he knows he will stay and doom both of you.

He only allows himself a second to close the front door gingerly, leaning his forehead against the wood for another second.

He will miss the home you've had.

It was a good one - the best one he’s had, actually.

He doesn't meet Seungcheol’s or Joshua's eyes once he gets into the car.

It's obvious from the tense silence that greets him that they want to yell at him some more, try to make him talk to you about it like the one extra scolding would make a difference. 

And to be perfectly honest Jeonghan isn't sure he could stand his ground in his current state - but that's precisely the reason why his friends keep their mouth shut.

They only share a concerned look.

For as tough and determined as Jeonghan seemed telling them about it and asking for their help - because he couldn't trust anyone with his life like he could these two - he is a mess now it all came to a head.

Seungcheol turns the key and starts the car without a word.

The engine roars to life and as they drive away, Jeonghan can see the window to your bedroom getting smaller and smaller, the sun reflected in it dying with each meter.

But that's okay.

Something inside him is dying too.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Spitfire | iii

Jake still can’t seem to get the girl from the bar off his mind, even after his time in Baltimore was long forgotten to everyone else. He spends his free time getting to know her, realizing quickly that she’s everything he’s dreamed of. She makes fast at showing him that not everyone is interested in him solely for the fame, but he’s still puzzled at how she pushed him to the brink of falling in love with her in only a mere few weeks.

Read part two here

Read part four here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: university exams/exam season (🤢), drinking, smoking (weed & cigarettes), long distance, annoying brotherly activities, fluff, mentions of provocative text messages, not really a whole lot w this one, but sorry if i missed any!

hi! here’s part three :) this is mostly a filler to advance to the main story, but i wanted to throw in some long distance fluffiness because i love hurting my own feelings! lots of dialogue to set the scene/relationship/emotion. as always, enjoy, and please be kind and ignore any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻🫶🏻 also disclaimer I am no longer a science student at university so some of the science-y stuff may not be perfectly accurate, no hate pls

~

An incoming call shook you from your focus, your eyes quickly darting down at your phone to see who it was from. You removed your glasses for a moment, rubbing your eyes to wake yourself up. When you put them back on, you noticed that Jake was the one causing the disturbance. A small smile crossed your lips as you picked your phone up, swiping across the screen to accept the video call. His face appeared after a few seconds, a beaming grin plastered on his cheeks. His hair was damp, likely from him showering after the concert he’d just had. A few hours earlier, he promised he’d call when he got back to the hotel, and it wasn’t like Jake to forget a promise.

“Hello, beautiful.” He said before you had a chance to greet him. You let out a small laugh, clicking the lamp on that was sitting on your computer desk. You placed your phone against the screen of your laptop, propping it up so you didn’t have to hold it.

“Hello, handsome.” You greeted back. “But, I am far from beautiful right about now.” You dismissed him, taking your hair down from its messy bun and putting it back up, neater this time. “I think this paper is going to kill me.” You truly meant it. You were in the midst of writing your final thesis paper for your undergraduate degree. After doing a research credit all year long, the paper proved the most difficult of the whole process.

“I think you’re going to ace it.” He said, taking a seat on the hotel bed. “What’s it on, anyway? You never actually told me.” He was right; you’d been working on it the entire time you’d known him, but never dived into the specifics with him, too afraid of talking his ear off about your year-long journey.

“Um,” you gave a small chuckle, pulling out your draft report. “The study of blood-glucose measurement based on blood resistivity.” You muttered the title before tossing the book of paper back down. His eyes widened a bit, trying to process what you were saying, but he covered it up quickly with a supportive nod.

“I love it when you talk science to me.” He sighed, a note of humour radiating from him. You let out a giggle, happy he’d called to ease the tension between you and your work. “But, you know, could you give me a refresher on what exactly that means?” He asked, leaning back against his headboard. You noticed he was shirtless, feeling a small flutter in your stomach at the sight.

“You mean to tell me you can’t tell me all about a diabetic study based off voltage and curve fitting?” You asked, an incredulous look in your eye. He laughed, giving a shrug.

“I’m a bit rusty.” You admired his features, how beautiful he looked when he was happy. You also noticed he looked tired himself, his eyes drooping slightly.

“I’ve been doing a research credit for my degree. I read a study about something similar way back in high school and it stuck with me, because my father’s side of the family struggles with diabetes. My dad and two of my brothers have Type 1. I decided to take a deeper look into it for my thesis.” You explained. He gave you his full attention, humming an agreement to assure you he was listening. “But basically what I’m doing is experimenting to see if we can measure a persons blood-sugar level in a non-invasive way. I studied pulses with electrodes and compared the voltage to different blood-sugar levels on a curve to see if it’s a suitable way to calculate it.”

“Did it work?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Well, sort of.” You scratched your head, furrowing your eyebrows slightly, trying to find the best way to explain it. “There’s definitely a correlation, and I think if it was studied further, it could genuinely get somewhere. It would be pretty cool if it did. Blood-sugar level tests are extremely troublesome in general. They take time, they’re painful, and super expensive in the long run. I know my family spent thousands of dollars on Will and Sam when they were kids, and we had good insurance. It was really interesting to look at. I’m glad I picked it, but almost seven months of study is a lot to compile into one report.” You chuckled. “It’s required to be 40-60 pages long.”

“I think you’re a genius,” he said as a matter-of-fact “and I know that whatever you put down on that paper is going to be fantastic.” He assured you. You gave him a smile, appreciating his words.

“I can only be so much of a genius with a recycled idea,” you reminded, sitting up in your chair. “But I’m almost done the bulk of the work now, so I can forget about it soon enough.”

“When is it due?” He questioned.

“Friday.” You sighed, looking at your calendar. “Three days to go and I’m officially done.”

“See? That’s not so bad. I’ll read it when you’re finished and tell you how amazing it is. I probably won’t understand any of it, but I do know how to give you a compliment.” He flashed the smile that you’d been missing so much. And he was right, he sure did know how to compliment you. It was his favourite pastime, even when you looked as run down as you did in that moment.

“And I would be more than delighted to share it with you.” You watched him again, more interested in him than you’d ever been in your schoolwork. “Anyway, enough about me. How’d your show go, rockstar?”

“I don’t think I can ever get enough of you,” the cheesy line was accompanied by a goofier grin. You rolled your eyes, both of you knowing you weren’t really annoyed with him. “It was good. The crowds are always amazing. We played really well, but I am tired though.”

“Of course you are; it’s hard work to put on a good show.” You sympathized. You could tell how much he loved what he did, but he was always exhausted when he called you at night, which was a common occurrence. He’d been gone for almost two weeks, now, and if he absolutely could not call you during the day, he texted as much as he could. Communication was never ceased, in turn, never leaving you wondering if he meant everything he’d told you. It only took him the length of the plane ride to use your number after he left, claiming he didn’t stop thinking of you once while he was flying away from you. Now, the end of your semester was quickly approaching, which meant the end of your bachelor studies as well.

The day you’d so conveniently ran into him at the coffee shop had sparked a beautifully blossoming relationship. That evening, both went back to your house, where he’d met your roommates (well, officially, at least) and you all had dinner together. You’d given him the house tour he’d been so eager for, and eventually you went back to his hotel with him. Much to everyone’s disbelief, it was completely PG the whole night, aside from a few kisses. You’d met his brothers, spent some time with them and were lucky enough to get to know them, even if it wasn’t much past the surface level. You and Jake spent the night talking, listening to music and really getting past the superficialities.

Not once did he make an advance, proving to you even further that he meant what he’d told you. You shared a bed with him night, falling asleep wrapped in each others arms with no intent for sex or any other hidden implications. It was something you’d never experienced before. When you woke, you got breakfast together. You went with him to the airport to see him off, and he’d kissed you. That’s where the intimacy ended. Now, you had to see him through a phone screen or a camera, always aching to be held by him again. It was the most peace you’d ever known from another person.

You were still nervous, finding it hard to integrate another person into your daily routine in such a way, but the process was made so much easier because of the type of person he was. He was understanding of your timidity, always kind and gentle, he was quick with his words and they were always sweet, and he was gorgeous. Making Jake a part of your every day life had been easier than anything you’d ever done. Nothing was official; it was mostly just phone calls and texting, even if it was constant. A lot of it was innocent, asking about each others days, or mindless chatter that you would never bother to share with anyone else. No matter what you had to say, he always seemed to want to listen. Occasionally, the flirting would take over. He was usually very respectful, he didn’t like to initiate until he knew you were okay with it, but every now and then, he’d send a risky text or picture first. Nothing too graphic, just enough to let you know he was thinking about you. You’d never admit it, but they were some of your favourite texts to receive. Sometimes you would send one first, particularly when it was a bad time for him, just to be an asshole.

You were still processing the entire situation. You’d never been in a relationship or a ‘situationship’, as some say, without it starting with sex, or at least the intent of only having sex. It was nice, knowing him so well before he knew you so intimately. The emotional intimacy felt way nicer than any physical gratification you could imagine. You felt yourself really falling for Jake, despite being so evasive of the idea when you first met him. You truly felt like he was someone you could love, or he was someone who could love you like you’d always wanted.

“When is your ceremony?” He asked. Your eyes shot up to the screen, breaking out of your thoughts.

“Uh, what, sorry?” You cleared your throat, feeling a bit embarrassed for zoning out.

“Your graduation ceremony?” He asked again, not bothered by having to repeat himself.

“Oh,” you looked at your calendar again, eyes tracking the days. There was a big red circle with the word ‘freedom’ scribbled in it. You chuckled to yourself, remembering when Eve had written it. She was over the moon for you when you submitted your credits for review to graduate. She was taking her degree slow, likely to finish in five years rather than four. Knowing that you would still be there with her while she finished, or that she wouldn’t have to leave you behind when she moved away, made both of you relieved beyond measure. “The 24th.” You clarified.

“I have a show that day.” His voice was sad. You felt a bit of disappointment at his words, but you understood. Besides, you’d only known him for a couple weeks; you couldn’t expect him to drop everything to go to your graduation when he barely knew you.

“That’s okay.” You assured him. “I didn’t expect you to go anyway.” You realized how harsh your words sounded after they came out. A solemn look fell across his features. “No, Jake, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” You rushed out. “I just meant that we’ve only been talking for a few weeks. I would never expect you to drop your whole life to come and see my ceremony.”

“You say that like you’re not important to me.” He said, fidgeting with something behind the screen.

“I know I am, Jake.” You assured him. “And you’re important to me, too. I just know that life is busy. Especially for you, rockstar.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe Eve will be generous enough to do a video call with me.” He suggested. You nodded, thinking that wasn’t a bad idea at all.

“I’ll have to ask her, but I’m sure she would. I think she likes you.” He let out a small laugh.

“Well that’s good, I guess.” His attention was disrupted by a knock on his door. “Hold on,” he mumbled, getting out of the bed. He continued holding the phone, not wanting to miss a moment of time talking to you. You heard his hotel door open, only being able to see his shoulder on the camera.

“Hello, brother.” You heard a voice say. You could recognize it as Josh’s. He’d joined your calls a fair few times over the last few weeks, just the same as Danny and Sam. You were slowly getting to know all of the boys, which was really making you feel like Jake was serious about this whole thing. “Care to partake?” You heard a laugh fall from Jake, warming your heart. You were certain that it had become your favourite sound in the whole world.

“Yeah, but she has to join, too.” Jake informed his brother.

“Oh, is that y/n?” Josh asked, his excitement growing. “Actually, I don’t think I even have to ask.”

“Hi, Josh!” Your voice echoed from the phone. You saw a struggle on the screen, hearing muffled bumps and noises, until eventually Josh’s smiling face popped into view.

“Hey, mama.” You could hear Jake arguing with his brother, trying to get his phone back. Josh seemed to be walking down the hallway, now, away from his twin. You couldn’t help but giggle at the interaction. “You wanna get drunk with us?” He asked. You eyed your laptop screen, internally debating if you should or not.

“You know, you guys are awfully bad influences.” You teased.

“Is that a yes?” You could see Jake approaching in the background of the camera, now. Josh raised his eyebrow at you in anticipation. He was still evading Jake, picking up his speed as he ran away from him.

“Josh, don’t pressure her into it.” Jake scolded. He sounded far away, you could barely make out what he was saying. You were having a hard time holding back your laughs, now. The whole situation was perfectly comedic and seemed to be exactly what you needed to feel better.

“Yeah, I’d love to, Josh.” You agreed. He let out a triumphant noise, halting his movement completely. Jake finally reached him, grabbing his phone back. You finally lost control of your laughter when you saw his grumpy expression appear in the frame. “Hi, honey.” You joked through bouts of giggles, wiping away a tear that had fallen.

“I’m glad you think he’s funny,” Jake tried to sound annoyed, but he was failing miserably, unable to stay upset while seeing you so happy. “Try being around him all of the time.”

“Oh come on, he’s not that bad.” You comforted, catching your breath.

“You have no idea.” He grumbled, making his way back to his hotel room. Josh appeared behind him, holding a liquor bottle in his hand. You stood yourself, throwing a hoodie on over your tank top. Jake watched you silently, admiring you. He thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, even when you were doing the most mundane tasks. You grabbed your cigarette pack from the desk and slipped it into the pocket. “Are you sure you want to stay on the phone? I can let you go, I know you have work to do.” The concern was dripping from his words.

“I’m okay, I want to talk to you guys. I wasn’t getting much work done, anyway. I think I just have to take a break, start fresh tomorrow.” You were lying, but only slightly. Your work was not going fantastic, but you were making progress. Still, you’d rather put the last bit of your report off until tomorrow if it meant you got to spend time with Jake, even if it was virtual.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Jake said, a note of warning in his tone.

“She wants to hang out with us, Jake. Don’t convince her to change her mind.” You could practically hear Josh’s eye roll in his statement.

“What, I’m not- you know what? Get out.” Even as he said it, there was a smile on his face and a ghost of a laugh in his voice. You thought it was sweet, how close the two boys were. Twin thing aside, they really were best friends. They knew each other better than anyone else, and they were always functioning on the same wavelength. Even when they were mad at each other, they were never really mad.

Almost nightly you’d see an appearance from Josh in your FaceTimes with Jake. He’d instantly added you on his personal social media’s, wanting to know you just as bad as Jake did, but for a different reason. You remembered back to a few days after they left, how Josh had sent you a message telling you that ‘if Jake talked so highly about you, he had to know you, too’. The instant acceptance was heartwarming. The boys reminded you of your own brothers. You were excited for them all to meet, eventually. They’d talked on the phone a few times, but you couldn’t wait for them to all be together and really know each other.

Just as you were exiting your room, your phone began to vibrate again. A grin pulled at your lips. Your brother Sam was calling, too. “Hold on, guys.” You said, clicking the hold button on your current call and answering the video from your sibling. “Hello, spawn of Satan.” You greeted as soon as the call connected.

“I’m really starting to question if you love me or not.” He shot back. You chuckled.

“Oh, I do love you, brother dearest, but it’s because I have to.” You teased. “Hold on, I’m on the phone with Jake. I’m going to merge it.” You informed him. He gave a nod. You clicked into the other call, pressing the merge button. Within a moment, the screen was shared between Jake and Sam. It took Jake a moment to realize what happened, but when he did, his eyes lit up.

“It’s other Sam!” He said. Your brother cracked a smile, probably larger than any one he’d ever given you.

“What’s up, rockstar?” Sam asked. Josh peeked his head into view, not wanting to miss out on any of the conversation. “Twin rockstars!” Jake and Josh got a chuckle out of it. You’d instantly told Sam about Jake, calling him right after you got home from the airport. Sam, being a nosy little shit, did a deep dive of him on all social media’s. Within a few days, all of your brothers knew about him, and were begging you to let them meet him. So, you thought you’d ease the transition by allowing them on a few of your calls with him. Sam had taken to him immediately, especially upon learning he also had a brother named Sam. According to him, it was fate that you and Jake ended up together. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wanted to date Jake, too.

“Glad I’m so easily forgettable.” You rolled your eyes, making your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. Ally was sitting at the table with a bowl of soup and her laptop in front of her. She looked like she’d been crying, staring down her final assignment with a look of disdain on her face. Exam season always put a damper on the household mood. You walked over and gave her a supportive shoulder pat, knowing you were close to the same mental state. Sam found himself chatting away with the other two boys, completely ignoring your comment, which only proved your point further. “M’going outside, if you wanna join.” You told her. She shook her head, barely being able to formulate words.

“I have to finish this.” She groaned, relaxing into her chair. “Due tomorrow.”

“Stuck?” You asked, peering down at her screen. She nodded. You gazed at the question that was left answerless, the last one on the page. “Is this Calc III?” She gave a nod. “Okay, where’s your work for it so far?” She pointed out a paragraph.

“I just can’t seem to get the numbers to work out.” She let out a long sigh, throwing her pencil down on the table. You looked over it for a minute, studying the numbers she was using.

“Okay, it’s a relation between a flux and a line integral, right?”

“Yeah, it is.” You turned the volume down on your phone a bit, not wanting to distract her while the boys talked.

“You remember the unit where you talked about the three main integral theorems?” She gave a hum, seeming to get what you’re saying. “One of those has an equation that will solve this question. And you’ll need to remember it for the exam, too, because there’s a couple questions about it.” You told her. She looked like she was wracking her brain for an answer, desperate to remember what you were talking about. After a moment, it seemed to click.

“Stoke’s theorem!” She exploded, catching the attention of all of the boys on the phone call. She noticed the lack of noise, a blush rising to her cheeks. You held up your hand for a high-five, helping her forget about her outburst. “Thank you.” She whispered.

“No problem,” you assured her “now, if you want to join, I will be outside getting fucked up. I am trying to forget about my thesis.” She let out a small laugh.

“How many pages?” She asked.

“I am on page 51, if you must know. Nearly there!” You cheered yourself on. “I should be able to finish it tomorrow.” You went to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of wine and a container of cut up fruit someone had bought at the grocery store.

“I believe in you.” She said, turning back to her laptop. “I might be out in a bit. I haven’t seen Eve all day. Not sure if she’s alive or not, so I’ll have to check on her first.” You saw Sam perk up at the mention of Eve’s name. He probably hadn’t heard from her, either. She was fully immersed in studying, more so than anyone else. She took her exams extremely serious. With a smaller course load, she wanted to ensure her marks were as best as they could be. You were proud of her for it. She worked really hard, but you did miss her presence during exam weeks.

“Saw her this morning drinking orange juice from the bottle, haven’t seen her since.” You informed her. The two of you shared a laugh. “She’s alive, just in hermit mode.”

You parted ways, opening the front door after putting on a pair of slippers. You moved over to the patio chairs placed around a table on the porch. It was a closed porch with large glass windows and another door leading to the street. You thought it was peaceful, finding it your favourite spot in the whole house. You sat down, resting your feet on the table. You pulled out a joint and a cigarette from the cardboard box in your pocket. “What did I miss?” You asked them, now focusing on your screen again.

“We were actually just talking about how much we hate you,” Sam said, a hint of fake sympathy accompanying his words.

“Mmhmm,” you mumbled, joint now between your lips and your lighter setting the tip ablaze. You took a large inhale, the cherry glowing red in the dim lighting. A billow of smoke flowed from your mouth as you exhaled. Almost instantly, you felt the tension melt off your shoulders. Josh seemed positively buzzed, his cheeks burning red and his smile never leaving. Sam looked as though he was ready for bed, eyes heavy and bloodshot. You were sure he’d been high for hours. Jake was sipping a drink silently, but his eyes never seemed to move from the camera.

“Alex and I are flying in Friday morning.” Sam said. Your eyes lit up, a course of adrenaline flowing through your veins.

“Really?” He gave a nod.

“Yeah, we decided to come early, spend some with with you before mom and dad got there. I think our flight leaves here at five.” He explained. “So you better have all of your shit done, because we want to party.” He warned.

“It will be, don’t worry.” You promised. “I think I’ll have my report done by tomorrow. I just have to type the conclusion and my entire novel of sources.” You chuckled to yourself, looking down at the joint between your fingers. “I’ll get Ally to proofread it; she said she would a few days ago. After that, I’m a free woman.” You announced, feeling proud of yourself for getting this far.

After that, the chatter died down. Sam eventually hung up, telling everyone he was tired and wanted to go to bed. You bid your goodbye, already feeling the anticipation begin for his arrival. You and the twins continued on with mindless conversation, sipping away at your drinks. When you cigarette pack was down to the last three, and the bottle of wine was threatening the end, Josh was ready to retire for the night, too. He was dozing off in Jake’s bed every so often, a small snore falling from his mouth periodically. You were caught up in Jake, not caring that the rest of the company had dwindled down. He was exhausted but still immersed in your conversations about nothing, and everything.

It wasn’t too long before Josh stumbled away to his own hotel room. He gave a solemn goodnight, telling you that he wished you were there with them, before he toddled away. Your cheeks were warm in the cool night air, the liquor and weed weighing heavily on you, but not any more than your tiredness.

When Jake settled into bed under the covers, as much as sleep wanted to become him, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. “Are you going to bed, beautiful?” He mumbled. You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. He was barely formulating the words, head buried so deep in the pillow you could hardly see him anymore.

“I think you probably should.” You told him, concern becoming you. “We can talk tomorrow, rockstar.”

“Don’t want to,” he mumbled “just want you here with me.” Your heart ached, hating to admit to yourself that you felt the same way.

“I know, I do too.” You finally mustered out. As much as you enjoyed talking with Jake, and as aware as you were about your feelings for him, the opening up part was proving quite difficult. You had no problem with the flirting, or the endless conversations, or even the sex talk, but telling him how you truly felt was troublesome. You weren’t sure if it was because you were scared of rejection, or because you were just scared of falling in love with him. “I miss you.” You whispered.

“I miss you too, beautiful.” He seemed more alert now, energized by the fact you’d made that proclamation first, this time.

“When can I see you again?” You picked at some frayed strings on your pants, avoiding looking at him.

“Soon, I promise. Once you finish school, I’ll take you around the world with me.” His smile brought your attention back to him. You found it impossible to look anywhere else. Your chest burned at his statement, wondering if he was being truthful or not.

“You mean it?”

“Never meant anything more in my life.” He assured you. “I hate sleeping alone, now, ‘cause I know what it’s like to sleep next to you.” You stood to go back inside, butting out your last cigarette of the night before entering through the front door and locking it behind you. You didn’t answer him until you were in your bedroom with the door closed.

“Don’t make promises you don’t mean, rockstar.” You took off your sweater and your pants, climbing into bed. The alcohol was buzzing through your veins, making your head feel a bit fuzzy. You were more than ready for bed.

“I’ve never told you anything I didn’t mean, baby.” The pet name rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, like he was meant to call you that all along, but it hit you with such an impact that you were sure it had stopped your heart for a moment. He’d called you plenty of other names, more in a compliment context, but such a domestic title was something very new. He didn’t even notice the effect it had on you; he was laying there with his eyes closed, phone only showing half of his face in the frame. When you didn’t answer, he opened one of his eyes to see what was going on. “I’m sorry, did that bother you? I wasn’t thinking,” he rushed out.

“No, Jake. It’s okay.” You reassured him. “I liked it.” A small smile creeped onto his face. You couldn’t help but return it. “I think I’m falling for you, rockstar.” You breathed after a moment too long.

“I already have, witchy woman.” His eyes were open again, watching the blush spread across your cheeks. That was the best way he could say it, because he was afraid he’d already fallen in love with you. He was glad he could at least tell you a sliver of what he was feeling for you. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Soon,” you said, curling up into your blankets.

“Can we stay on the phone tonight?” He asked. “I don’t want to hang up.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” You turned over, plugging your phone into the charger. You set your phone on your nightstand, propped up against a book so he could see you. He shuffled around, doing the same thing. This wasn’t the first time you’d fallen asleep with him on the phone. You hadn’t done it in a few days, though. It was nice. When the days permitted, sometimes you even got to wake up to him before he had to go. He usually waited as long as he could before hanging up so he could at least try to say good morning. If you were awake first, you did the same. You really enjoyed the little routines you two had been building together.

You both settled into your beds, rustling in the pillows and blankets to find the comfiest position. You watched your phone, wanting to soak in every second of seeing his face. “Goodnight, beautiful.” He mumbled, sleep calling to him. “Sleep well, I’ll see you in the morning.” He said it as if it were a promise.

“Goodnight, rockstar.” You whispered. His eyes fluttered closed as he bit his tongue, holding back any other words. The ‘L’ word was always so dangerously close to slipping out of his mouth. He felt so stupid, wanting to say ‘I love you’, when he’d only known you for a few weeks, but he felt like he really did. He’d never met anyone else who made him feel like you did, and it started from the minute he saw you.

Before you closed your own eyes, they drifted to the wall behind your computer desk. The record sleeve of one of Jake’s albums stood so beautifully prominent, his signature illuminated by your desk lamp. Your gaze lingered over the sharpie marks, stomach fluttering at the memory of him writing it. You fell asleep with a smile, already excited to wake up to him in the morning.

~

Tag list: @gvfpal @jakesgrapejuice

[kipperlillyforpresident]

Okay so number one. Super cool that you wrote your paper on the American dream. Single-handedly it is my favorite antag from any season.

And two. Well it is true the back to back filming probably definitely made them have less nuance for this. I absolutely agree with your statement. If your players can't engage in a story something is probably wrong. Honestly I've just come to the conclusion that the reason that episode 19 felt so weird. Is because it felt more like it was the intrepid heroes killing the rat grinders. Instead of the bad kids killing the rat grinders. Like I don't know if I'm just going crazy here?? I know it happens where your characters blend together so much in your mind That it's hard to differentiate the character from the player. But things felt so mean spirited in like a unique way. Like a unique way that you can only get from hating a villain as the viewer. Instead of like the character. Because besides Kristen trying to see if Buddy was still in there. It felt as if, the bad kids. Who have notoriously all been put into difficult situations at different times because of various adults. Saw what is basically just them without the support system. And hit it with a nuke. It's not like a Johnny spells type thing where You can be like "this guy sucks. kill his ass." Cause besides Kipper Lily. We don't actually know any of the rat grinders motivations. Like people can say that the rat grinders were just power hungry All they want. But the more likely answer is probably, Porter saw a group of vulnerable children who were actively unsatisfied with the situation they had been put in. And prayed on that!

It's frustrating definitely. But there is always fix it fics. And these final episodes aren't going to stop me from loving the rat grinders. I do not care what anyone in the fandom says. Because half of the time they're just spitting the same misogynistic bullshit we got with saccharina frostwhip. I'm genuinely hoping That at least the adventuring party clears up some things??. But my hopes are low unfortunately. Mary Ann forever though. She got that dog in her

a) IT WAS REALLY COOL!! i also wrote a final paper in a different class about the cubbys . Communications is kind of fake as hell as a major (if youre thinking of becoming a comm major dont </3 its great for student athletes who dont need jobs. as for me. um. well. 1 year out of college no new job), but it meant I was able to write a lot of interesting papers and my professors gave me room to run with it.

b) That's a really interesting thesis, and I haven't thought about it before, but that honestly makes a lot of sense...? Like, in that Really Uncomfortable Speech that was given before Ruben died, he was blamed for wasting a season on him. Which is an extremely meta/IH thing. It makes no sense for Fig to say that. But it does make sense for Emily to say that.

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

Winter pt. 2 | JJK

Hello darlings!!!

Pairing: royal guard!Jungkook x princess!Reader, prince!Jimin x princess!Reader (ft. Yoongi & Hoseok)

Summary: In which you, princess of the Gyeongdong Dynasty, were in the middle of wedding plans. An arranged marriage that would guarantee your father's bloodline to stay on the throne.

Or in which you are assigned a new royal guard that swore to protect you with his life. Jeon Jungkook. That's his name. A name you could never forget. A name that, slowly but surely got engraved not only on your memories but also in your heart.

Love, politics, betrayal and desire. All in ancient history. A love that never should have happened, two souls that wouldn't be allowed to be together.

Warnings: angst, fluff, implied smut, pregnancy, descriptions of delivery, pregnancy complications, arranged marriage, blood, character death, heartache, yearning, forbidden love, more angst, Jimin is a sweetheart, heartbreak, fainting, heart disease, Jungkook writes poetry, funeral, mentions of reincarnation, ANGST (WARNINGS APPLY TO BOTH PARTS!) (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 13, 152k words

A/N Hi, darlings! It's been so long since I posted Autumn for you guys and I am so terribly sorry for the months wait. I really hope you will like this third part of "Four Seasons"!

I've been working on this for months now but lately I've found new inspiration to finally finish this and trust me, it will be a total roller coaster! Thank you so much to the people who commented on the other two parts as they all gave me such motivation to return to this story!

A/N I had to divide Winter into two parts because apparently Tumblr doesn't like to have too much paragraphs in one post! The two parts of this long chapter are linked on the masterpost of this series! Please let me know what you thought of this part, I really hope you will like it and it leaves you yearning for more! Without entertaining you further, happy reading, everyone!

💜 Boraghae ARMY 💜

~Taglist for Four Season: @valhallawhispers @lovingkoalaface @seokout @ackercute @jksusawife

Isn't it beautiful how the seasons change?

Isn't it beautiful how you never do?

For you are that summer flower I once saw.

Dressed in delicate petals of love.

You are the snow that freezes my heart.

You are the soft breeze on an autumn day.

My sun during summer and my flower during spring.

But I cannot touch you. I cannot hold you like my soul wishes to do.

My darling. My love. My woman. My soul.

What did I do to not have you by my side?

Is love a crime?

Then I am a criminal, even when it was you who stole my heart.

I miss you. I want you. I need you.

I cannot breathe without you near me.

I prefer death than a fate where we can't be together.

My moon. My sun. My Queen. Owner of my being.

Jungkook jumped in his seat when the door to his room slid open. He placed his brush aside before standing up to face Hoseok.

"The Queen requests your presence in her chambers, Jungkook."

The younger man nodded and placed his papers in order before he left his room following Hoseok through the large corridors of the palace.

It has been three days since you gave birth to Prince Ha-joon. Three agonising days in which he hadn't seen a glimpse of your existence. And it was killing him. His memories of you were too far to grasp and take console in them.

Jungkook didn't recall having to walk all the way from his room to your personal chambers. He didn't remember when Hoseok announced his presence, for he was brought to reality when you spoke his name. Your voice being the only thing that could bring him back from his thoughts.

His eyes met your own in a dance of emotions that he had to clasp his hands in front of him to stop them from shaking.

"You called for me, Your Majesty."

He bowed down at you and you sighed, realising how much you hated when he bowed at you when you'd go on your knees with only a word falling from his lips. He had that power over you. That way to command you. To make you feel.

"Jungkook."

The man before you lifted his gaze and your eyes met his once more. Had it been within any other circumstances, you'd have smiled and ran toward him. How you wish you could embrace him, how you wish you could kiss him and declare your love for him. How you wish you could love him freely.

You were sitting between blankets and cushions, taking rest after the hard labour. The prince lied next to you as he slept soundly while being wrapped up in luxurious fabric.

"I haven't seen you in a while."

He smiled. Not that smile that reached his eyes or that warmed your insides. It made you shiver with the sadness within it. Like a cold breeze on a winter day.

"I was told you were to rest, my Queen. Captain Min ordered me to give you some space, at least until you are feeling better."

You smiled, gesturing for him to sit in front of you, which he did. A moment of silence passed between you both. Your gaze lingered on his handsome features, drawing a map of him in your mind.

"I missed you."

He sighed at your whispered confession. Those words clawed at his heart with nothing but a heavy guilt that existed within him.

"My Queen... please."

You took a deep breath at his pleading, his begging. You looked aside as your heart constricted in your chest.

"Forgive me."

He looked at you with eyes full of emotions you weren't quick enough to grasp. Why must love hurt so much? Jungkook shifted his gaze from your figure, focusing on the little bundle where the prince, your son, slept peacefully.

"Congratulations on your baby. May prince Ha-joon live a long and happy life with his family."

His words weren't cruel, you should have thanked him for his blessings but it only caused you bitterness. Because Jungkook wasn't a part of that family. You had made your life without him and that realisation sank within the caves of your soul in that moment.

All those times you had dreamed, wished, pleaded and imagined your future, Jungkook was always in the picture. He always stood next to you. But fate was a cruel force. That was only a dream. Your reality was different from what you had once wished and still desired deep in your heart.

A life with him. An opportunity to love. For him. For you. To love Jungkook.

"Thank you."

Those words left your lips in a soft whisper. Afraid of speaking any louder, afraid of facing reality once more. There existed enough pain in your life, you didn't want to add salt to the wound but it kept happening. Every time you saw Jungkook you were reminded of your love for him and that distant dream of the future you once saw yourself dancing in.

Life in the palace continued. The days passed, weeks turned into months, months turned into years as the seasons changed. Time was frozen while it escaped at the same time. It made you remember, it made you forget. It made Jungkook let go, it made him yearn.

He guarded you, protected you like he had vowed to. You smiled in your solitude, dreamed in your agony.

Petal of a yielding flower.

Host of my mind.

Lover of a taken heart.

Queen of my life.

I see my universe in your eyes.

Life is not fair,

but neither is death.

For I live in a world of lies.

I own you my smiles,

my tears are yours to be held.

And when I wish my time would end,

I remember what it was to love such beauty on this earth.

My sunrise. My light. My dusk. My night.

Cradle me in your embrace.

Let me live in your heart.

Grant this wish to this poor man.

Or end my life;

for in death shall I find peace from this cruel destiny.

Jungkook sat against a tree, watching you from afar. Your baby boy just turned two years old this summer. Now it was autumn. The leaves were dying, the air was cooler but his love for you still existed in his heart.

You were with Jimin, the both of you were in the garden playing with Ha-joon. Jungkook saw you smile and laugh from where he stood. The jealousy and bitterness he once felt toward the king had melted like ice on a summer day. His soul was filled with the remnants of his feelings. A melancholy lived inside him about the "what if's" of his life, of what had happened.

Jimin had taken some time from his busy schedule to spend it with his little family. He loved seeing you smile, he was happy at that moment. Everything was perfect. Everything was like he had once imagined it to be. His son was already walking around, a bit clumsy but he was too cute to not stare at the little prince.

Ha-joon had your eyes, he had his father's lips as well. He was a really cute combination of his parents who loved the little boy too much.

You watched as Jimin lifted Ha-joon before the both of them fell into a pile of dry leaves. You chuckled, crouching down on the ground after having been running around the place. You panted with a soft smile on your face, printing the image in front of you into your mind forever.

Your husband picked up the little boy in his arms before walking back to where you were. He offered you his hand and you took it as you stood up from the ground.

"Are you fairing, My Queen?"

He asked, a bit of concern behind his words. You nodded, brushing your skirt with delicate movements.

"Yes, I'm just tired of running all around the garden."

Jimin chuckled, looking down at Ha-joon who clung to his neck, also tired after playing for some time now.

"Let's get back then."

His hand grabbed yours as he began to lead you back to the small tent in the garden where a table with fruits and tea rested. It was near a large tree where Jungkook stood writing his poems with words carried by the wind. He saw how the king began to approach and put down his papers and brush before standing up.

He bowed when you and Jimin entered the tent. Your husband handed Ha-joon to one of the damsels with care and soft delicacy.

"Put him to sleep, he's tired."

The young woman nodded, taking the little prince from the king's hold before she left with your son in her arms. You sat down on the soft cushions with Jimin by your side, he poured you a cup of tea with elegance. Just like he had done many moons ago when he was only your fiance.

You thanked him with a soft smile, taking the cup as your fingers brushed his with the motion. Jungkook watched as you took a sip of the hot beverage, his eyes travelled down your profile, taking in how beautiful you looked at that exact moment. Not that you had ever looked ugly to his eyes, but in that precise fragment of time, you looked ethereal. Mesmerizingly beautiful. He didn't have enough words to describe your beauty at that moment.

Jimin was about to take a sip from his own cup of tea when Captain Yoongi came jogging toward the tent. He bowed down at you two before speaking, his voice laced with urgency.

"My king, may I have a quick word with you?"

Your husband sighed silently, putting his cup down on the table before standing up. He glanced down at you for a second only to then walk away with Yoongi by his side. You saw how they discussed something in the distance but you couldn't tell what it was as they were both out of earshot.

You let out a deep breath, putting your own cup next to Jimin's before you looked up at Jungkook.

"Do you want some tea, Jungkook?"

Your question brought him back to reality as he savoured the way his name sounded on your lips. It was the sweetest melody he had ever heard.

But he shook his head. Not allowed to show any emotion on his features.

"No, thank you, My Queen."

The response he gave you sounded dry and it made your heart clench with desire.

"Are you alright? You've been... distant as of lately."

He looked down at you but this time, you didn't see the storms of emotions hidden in his doe eyes. You didn't see anything. And it pained you to know that perhaps he didn't love you anymore. Because you still did. With all your heart.

"I am merely doing my job, Your Majesty."

You wanted so bad to reach up to him and hold his hand, to feel him. For him to ease your chaotic heart.

"Then don't. Please, Jungkook, do not distance yourself from me."

He sighed. It didn't matter how much distance he put between you both, if it were in words or even an ocean in the middle of you two. You always managed to pull him back.

"I have to, My Queen. Otherwise, I won't be able to resist the temptation. I could harm you. I could burn you with the flames of my love. I could destroy the life you have now. I could taint you with my carnal desires. I could do things... unforgivable things and the only wish I have in this life is for you to not be harmed. And for that to happen, I must put distance between us, even when my heart screams your name."

Your eyes filled with tears at his confession. At the revelation of his heart, his desires, his yearning for you. He still loved you, he still wanted you. He would always be yours.

"My heart is yours as well. Do not deny me the pleasure of existing next to you. Your existence is more than enough to soothe my wounded soul, Jungkook."

He bowed at you softly, eyes glazed with his own tears as emotions swirled once more in his dark orbs.

Jimin began walking back and you had to blink back the tears in your eyes. You distracted yourself with your cup of tea as he sat down next to you again.

"What happened? Captain Min looked serious while talking to you."

He smiled at you, eyes closing with the action before answering. His voice was soft and calm, like a summer breeze.

"Nothing to worry you about, Queen of my heart."

You sent him a tight smile, placing the cup on the table. Not feeling in the mood of drinking more tea.

"(y/n), you're bleeding."

Jimin said, causing Jungkook to look at you alarmed as you felt something trailing down your nose. You wiped it only to see that your fingers were painted in crimson. You wiped again and again but the blood continued to flow.

Your husband grabbed a soft handkerchief and pressed it to your nose.

"It's nothing. I probably ran too fast while playing in the garden.

But the king wasn't tranquil with your response. He felt something, as if words were whispered in his ear to not let it be unattended.

"I'll call for a physician."

Your hand grabbed his, something Jungkook didn't miss from where he stood. He watched your tangled hands with your marriage rings on your finger as you stopped your husband from getting up.

"I'm fine, Jimin. I promise. This has happened to me since I was a child. Don't worry, please."

That seemed to calm him down a bit as he settled back on his seat next to you. Holding his handkerchief below your nose as the bleeding began to stop gradually.

"Be careful, alright?"

You nodded at his words, your eyes shifted momentarily to Jungkook's wide gaze and you tried to reassure him as best as you could without a word leaving your lips.

The days were colder with the arrival of winter. Such beauty fell from the grey skies, a beauty that burns with ice.

Jungkook was reminded of your wedding day as he strolled down one of the corridors. The weather, such coldness invaded his mind, his thoughts, his heart; just like that day. When he witnessed you become the wife of another man. When he watched you lose your freedom and your life changed forever.

A feeling of melancholy suddenly invaded his heart, squeezing it with the cold claws of fate.

He took a turn, his mind lost in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the voices in the hallway. Jungkook felt how something suddenly crashed into his legs and he was quick to react and grab the hand of the little boy who was running absentmindedly. The little boy who was your son. The prince of the dynasty.

Ha-joon looked up and Jungkook saw his resemblance to you. He had your eyes. He smiled softly to the boy until Hoseok came jogging to where they stood.

"My prince, come on. Don't run away like that again."

Hoseok said, his eyes trained on the little prince who looked at him and then shifted his gaze back to Jungkook. The younger man let go of the kid's hand and Hoseok was quick to pick him up.

"He's a handful sometimes."

Jungkook chuckled, remembering those summer days when you walked in freedom through the gardens. He saw you in your son as memories swam in his hand.

"I can imagine. Kids at his age are always curious and full of energy."

Hoseok let out a soft laugh, looking at Ha-joon in his arms and also seeing the resemblance of you in him.

"Thanks, Jungkook. He suddenly ran away from me."

"It's no problem. Take care of him, Hoseok."

The older man nodded before he turned around and walked back down the corridor.

"Kook!"

The little prince exclaimed with a wide smile, his lips were plump like his father's and his cheeks puffed out cutely with the motion. Jungkook smiled and waved at the prince who waved back with his little hand before disappearing around the corner in the arms of Hoseok.

He sighed. Once more being left alone with his cold thoughts on a winter day. With frozen hopes and a blurred future.

You were in your room watching how the snowflakes fell slowly to the gardens. Your embroidery was left forgotten on your lap as your mind got lost in your memories.

A knock in your door interrupted your train of thought. You cleared your throat and straightened your posture before saying in a steady voice.

"Come in"

The door slid open and Hoseok entered with Ha-joon in his arms. You smiled at the sight of your child and your best friend set the toddler down as he ran clumsily towards you.

"Mummy!"

You hugged the little prince when he crashed into you and you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. He was too cute to resist. He began playing with your embroidery as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, tracing his little fingers over the drawings.

"My Queen, the little prince is very eager to explore the palace. Do you want to take him to the gardens and let him play in the snow? Maybe that'd tire him out a bit so that he can sleep soundly tonight."

Your hand caressed your son's dark hair, taking in its softness before you turned your focus back to Hoseok.

"I'm tired, Hobi. I don't think I'd be able to run around in the gardens."

He nodded, eyes shifting to Ha-joon whose world now rotated around your elegant embroidery.

"Do you allow me to speak freely, Your Majesty?"

You nodded at him.

"Of course, I've told you many times that you do not need to ask for such a thing. You are my best friend."

He smiled lovingly.

"Those words are simple formalities, my Queen, but what I wanted to say was that maybe you could accompany us to the gardens. Have some fresh air. I can play with the little prince, but he misses his mother."

You smiled, looking down at Ha-joon who returned your gaze with big eyes.

"Alright then, hand me my coat please and tell one of the damsels to dress the prince warmly."

You stood under the palace roof, a heavy coat over your shoulders as you sipped on some hot tea while watching Hoseok play in the snow with little Ha-joon. A soft smile graced your lips at the sight and the sound of your little boy's giggles.

A shiver ran down your spine when a cold breeze blew your way, strands of hair flying with the wind. Hobi let himself fall on the snow with a dramatic yell, making you laugh as Ha-joon went to lay on his chest.

"Up, up."

The prince said, trying to get Hoseok to stand up and pick him up but the man layed there panting softly.

"I'm tired, my prince. Hold on."

You watched them both fondly, your eyes lowered to the tea in your cup until you felt how your heart skipped a beat.

"Kook!"

Ha-joon had said. Your hands felt cold against the warm cup, your soul froze when you looked up. There he was. Jeon Jungkook. You hadn't seen him in days. And before today there were only small peaks here and there followed by short greetings.

Jungkook turned to look at you, your eyes met his from across the garden. You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the mere sight of him. Your hands trembled around the cup, forcing you to put it away.

He bowed down at you slowly yet his eyes never left yours. Emotions invaded your body as you stood up from your chair. Hoseok noticed your actions and sat up, Ha-joon left his side and ran with his little legs where Jungkook was.

Your royal guard smiled down at your son and Hoseok stood up from the ground, walking the steps to where you stood.

"Your Majesty, are you alright? You look pale, should I walk you to your chambers?"

But you shook your head, your eyes following Jungkook's figure as he approached you with Ha-joon by his side. The little prince was telling him something that you couldn't hear and he smiled widely. Flashed him that bunny smile you loved so much and had missed just as fiercely.

Jungkook bowed down at you once he stood in front of you. Ha-joon looked up at the man next to him and mimicked his actions. Your heart clenched at the sight. Having the man you loved and your child who was your husband's son before you was too much for your heart.

It clenched inside you, it burned, it ached.

"Your Majesty."

Jungkook acknowledged you. You nodded softly at him and he rose to his full height. Ha-joon doing the same.

"Kook! Play, together."

Hoseok watched the interaction from where he stood. His own heart clenched at the sight of your hidden pain. You have always been an open book for your best friend. You had been able to hide your love from your father, even from your husband but not from Hoseok. He had known you for his entire life. He knew you, he knew the core of your heart. He knew your unspoken words. He knew.

"Only if the queen allows it, my prince."

Jungkook's eyes found yours once more. A sad smile painted his lips. Ha-joon was a clear resemblance of you but also of his father and Jungkook was reminded once more of what he had lost the day you married Jimin. Of that dream that he wished would become his reality was instead a mountain of ashes. Of burnt dreams and wishes.

You smiled tightly at the pair in front of you, not wanting to deny sweet Ha-joon of his free days and innocent happiness.

"You may play, but please be careful."

Jungkook bowed down and your little son once more mimicked him with a sweet giggle that would have made you smile had you been in another circumstance. Ha-joon's small hand curled around Jungkook's fingers as he "dragged" him further into the garden. The man clearly gives in to the desires of the child. Not without glancing your way one more time.

You took a deep breath when they were both far away from you. As if you were suddenly able to breathe when he was not near you but playing in the snow as the giggles of your prince were heard. You blinked back the tears that had gathered in your eyes, you wouldn't cry now. It was not the time for that.

"My Queen, please take a seat."

You refused Hoseok's suggestion with a shake of your head. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn't tear your gaze away from Jungkook and Ha-joon playing together.

If only fate had been different.

If only you hadn't been a princess.

If only your story was written with another ending.

Then the scene before you would have been a happy one. But Jungkook was not the father of your child and you didn't want to question your fate with Jimin. It wouldn't be fair to him when he loves you just as ardently as you love Jungkook.

Time slipped from your fingers like water from a river. Cold to the touch. Liquid to the memory. You watched them play and laugh while your heart teared apart within you.

Soft footsteps were heard from your left but you didn't shift your gaze from your giggling little prince.

"My Queen,"

The voice of one of your damsels spoke and you didn't have to look at her to know she was bowing down at you.

"His Majesty requests your presence in the Main Hall."

You took a deep breath, the cold air of winter burned your lungs with the motion but despite the action, you still felt as if you were being suffocated.

"Queen (y/n)."

Your eyes met the worried gazed of Hoseok as uncertainty painted his dark orbs.

"It's alright, take care of Ha-joon for me."

Hoseok bowed down at you as you straightened up your posture and looked at Ha-joon and Jungkook for a moment before you forced yourself to walk away. You weren't aware of the concerned look your best friend gave you nor the longing gaze Jungkook sent your way.

He watched you walk away and despite all the times he had witnessed the same sight, his heart still clenched upon seeing you leaving him behind.

You didn't look back. You couldn't. Your heart wouldn't be able to take it. Each step you took forward hurt like an arrow piercing your heart over and over again. You closed your eyes, taking in the pain in your chest.

Fate gave you the cruellest gift you had ever received. A glimpse of your dream life only to be shattered by reality like ice against a wall. It hurt. Your hands trembled even when you clasped them in front of you to keep them warm. It was useless.

You lived in an eternal winter. Your heart was frozen, your soul had crumbled to a pile of white snow tainted with the ashes of your dreams. It was fair. But life has never been fair to you. To anyone, actually.

But you weren't a victim here. Not anymore. If fate didn't want you and Jungkook together, you'd fight in each and every lifetime to meet with him again and complete your story next to him. You owned it to him, to his love, his devotion. His innocent heart that carried the purest love within him.

Tears clouded your vision and a lump grew in your throat. You weren't a victim, but that didn't mean you couldn't cry about your misfortunes.

The tears began rolling down your cheeks, feeling how your heart ached for a man who would never be yours and a future you couldn't live.

You had to cover your mouth to quiet the sobs that threatened to spill from your lips. For it had been too much for your soul to endure. You had gotten to your breaking point, the point of no-return. It hurt. The mere thought of Jungkook was enough to make your heart clench in your chest.

You took a deep breath, tried to calm yourself as you walked down the large corridors. Your hands wiped your cheeks but the lump in your throat stayed, the pain in your chest didn't fade. Almost as if it had found its home within you.

You were about to meet your husband in the main hall of the royal palace. You couldn't be seen crying and less for another man you yearned so fiercely for. You were the Queen. Mother of the Crown Prince. Wife to the King of Gyeongdong. Daughter of the dynasty.

You had to be strong.

You could cry in private later. But not now. It wasn't your place to do so. A Queen doesn't cry. A Queen is strong. A Queen fights. You sighed, taking strength from your own aching heart to continue walking, to face your reality. To live in this written fate.

Even when your mind was elsewhere, even when your hands trembled and your feet itched to turn back and run into the arms of your lover. Even when your chest didn't stop hurting, you held on. Just like every other time before.

You just held on.

The king sat on his throne, the ministers had just left the large room after their council and he had a deep desire to see his wife. Jimin let out a sigh, his mind going back in the seasons, remembering. Going back in time in his mind.

He remembered your wedding day, he remembered the cool autumn day when he saw you for the first time. He had heard the princess was beautiful but no words were enough to describe your beauty in front of him.

The sound of your voice was forever engraved in his memories, your smile was sweeter than any candy in the world. He had fallen in love with you. He loved you, all of you. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than to spend his life with you. His queen. The mother of his child. The owner of his heart.

Maybe he loved too quickly. Maybe he trusted too soon. But he didn't regret it. Jimin was happy. He was living the life that was planned for him since birth yet he was happy with the fate painted before him. He wanted it. He craved it.

"You're wearing it."

Jimin's voice brought you out of your thoughts. Looking up at him with a confused look, he elaborated while a chuckle escaped his lips.

"The hairpin. You are wearing it. I'm glad you like it."

You nodded at him with a small smile.

"It's really beautiful."

You weren't going to lie about that. It was truly one of the best jewellery pieces you'd ever seen. The Prince's cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink, a shy smile over his lips. He stopped out of a sudden and you halted in your steps. Looking up at him with curiosity, Jimin grabbed one of your hands between his and said while his eyes were glued to your joined hands.

"I'll speak without formalities for once as this is something I need you to know not as a Prince but as your fiancé."

You nodded and he continued.

"(y/n)..."

Your name in his lips was sweet, said with such delicacy and devotion. A sweetness similar to your favourite fruit.

"... I'm so glad it is you who I am going to marry. After we get married and the coronation ceremony is completed, I want you to know that you will always be my equal as the Queen of Gyeongdong. I know we were arranged but I sincerely hope we can grow something from this.

You will always be treated fairly, I promise. And I'm so lucky to have such a beautiful fianceé."

You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips. It was a grateful smile. You knew he wouldn't force you to do anything, he would always respect you and give you your place. The Prince of the Park family was a good man with a noble soul; a gentleman who was going to become a great ruler.

"Thank you, Jimin. I really appreciate that."

He smiled. His eyes closed with the action and you couldn't help but think it was cute. He had a pretty smile, you had to admit that.

The memory flashed in front of his eyes in a second. You still wore that hairpin he had given you. You liked it, he had watched you admire it and it fueled his pride as your husband.

“What are you all doing standing here? Don´t you know she could get sick with this?”

Growled the prince at a nearby royal guard who cowered at the imposing tone of the man. Jimin was seen among the palace staff as a sweet and loving personality who was made to receive and give love in each of his lifetimes. That’s why the guard felt suddenly so intimidated as the prince had never acted nor spoken in such a way. 

“We are aware, Your Royal Highness. But the Princess ordered us to not interfere. She said she'll kneel until the counsellor's son is safe. There was no way of persuading her!”

Jimin cursed under his breath as his feet carried him towards you. He didn’t care about the rain, about the stares of the maids and staff, he didn’t care about anything else other than you. 

You were kneeling on the cold stone floor. The palace was in front of you in all its glory but you could only care about your best friend. Why was life so complicated? When has your life tangled itself up with these kinds of problems? 

Why did summer end so suddenly? 

Your tears rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the pouring rain that fell from the greying skies. A chilly breeze made a shiver run up your spine but you weren’t going to leave. You weren’t going to surrender that easily so you stood firmly, ignoring the pain in your knees, ignoring the coldness in your skin. Ignoring the sadness in your heart and not minding the tears that escaped your eyes. 

But suddenly, you didn’t feel the rain any longer. The chilly air didn’t attack your back any more and you had to look up to find the source of such a blessing only to be met by the profile of the Prince of the Park family, he was looking forward not seeming to mind the cold rain that was quick to drench him. His right arm extended his outer robe over you, keeping the rain from cooling you any further.

He looked down, feeling your gaze on him only to be met with your drenched figure. Your eyes were red and puffy, filled with tears. And he felt his heart clench at the sight of your pain. If he was able to take it away he would do it in a heartbeat. You didn’t deserve such a burden. Such pain. 

And he made a silent promise to himself that once you both got married, he would move mountains for him to see you smile. 

You deserved it, after all. 

Everyone deserves happiness. Even you, the beautiful Princess everyone thought had it all but in the end, you were just lonely. Broken by the mends of society. 

Jimin took a deep breath, memories of you began to flash in front of his eyes like raindrops. Unstoppable. He felt a sudden need to see you, be with you, hear your voice. So he stood up from his throne and walked out of the main hall in hopes of meeting you in one of the main corridors.

Urgency carried his steps, feeling a darkness enclose his heart in cold ice of desperation. He needed to see you. Jimin didn't know why such urgency had taken control of him but he couldn't fight it. He walked and rounded a corner, seeing you standing on the other end.

He smiled.

A window was behind you, the white gardens stood in the background as he took in the image of you. You just stood there, not even looking at him but lost in your mind. At least that was what he saw, he began to approach you.

He saw you frown and he halted in his steps for a second. But that second dictated his fate once more as he submerged in a cold river, surrounded by water of fear that froze his bones.

Your hand went up to your chest as you pressed onto it. You gasped, feeling how your heart ached within you. But this time it was worse, worse than the subtle pain you felt there every time your thoughts drifted to Jungkook and that lost future living in the land of dreams. This pain was different.

Your hand clutched the silk of your dress as you took a step forward, your other hand grabbing a table resting against the wall with a vase on it to try and find your balance once more.

You heard footsteps from your right and you turned only to see Jimin walking down to where you stood with worry on his face. Tears gathered in your eyes due to the pain.

"Jimin..."

He could barely hear his whispered name leave your lips before he saw you take a step towards him but you tumbled, hitting the table and making the vase fall and crash against the wooden floor as you collapsed before him.

He rushed to you in panic as fear wrapped around his heart. Jimin cradled you in his arms as he checked for a pulse, tears gathered in his eyes at the sight of you but he couldn't help but sigh upon noticing you were still alive.

"My darling... (y/n), open your eyes. Please..."

Yoongi was rounding the corner when he gasped at the image in front of him. He was quick to approach the desperate king with fast steps.

"Your Majesty, what happened? Is she alright?"

Jimin didn't turn to look at the slightly older man, one of his hands caressed your face delicately, as if you were a soft summer flower.

"I don't know, call the physician. I'll take her to my quarters."

Your husband felt his heart clench at the sight of you so vulnerable and weak in his hold. Captain Min bowed down at the king before he stood up and ran in the opposite direction.

Jimin picked you up in his arms, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as he held you tightly against him. The scene he had just witnessed was something he'd never forget, for it had been horrible to see you in what he could guess was pain. He hated to see you like that and now, as you were being cradled in his embrace, a fire burned within him.

Flames of fear combined with fuel of anger at your state. He pressed an almost harsh kiss against your temple, murmuring in your hair words only meant for you to hear.

"Hold on, My Queen. You'll be alright. I promise."

Jimin laid next to you, supporting your body in his strong hold. The royal physician was examining you. He could feel his heart squeezing in his chest. Worry fueled his soul and fear set it aflame.

Time tickled by slowly, everything was moving too slow. Everything felt too hollow. Everything was colourless. The royal physician held her breath as she took your pulse. The room stilled. No-one dared to move, let alone breathe.

She let out a sigh and retrieved her touch from your soft skin. Jimin looked up in anxiety. Waiting, expecting, needing to know what the elderly woman had to say.

"What is it? Is she alright? Speak, woman!"

She didn't flinch at the king's desperate tone as she kept her gaze low while clasping her hands in her lap.

"Your Majesty... it's a heart disease. I think the Queen has always had it but since her rather difficult birth... it came alive, so to speak."

Jimin didn't know what to say, his soul ached at the sight of you in his arms as endless possibilities came rushing to his mind like lightning during a storm.

"Can you cure her?"

He already knew the answer to that question. A hand of his came to caress your cheek softly while tears gathered in his brown eyes that gazed lovingly down at you. He knew the answer to his own question yet your husband held onto that last sliver of hope his soul refused to let go.

"I can give her something for the pain, My King."

Was the physician's answer. Her voice delicate, words being carefully selected.

"Yes, but can you cure her?"

Her eyes met the intense gaze of the king as he turned to look at the woman dressed in a blue hanbok. A tear escaped his eye as it rolled down his cheek slowly while his heart was beating wildly in his ribcage.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty."

If someone had stabbed him with a thousand arrows Jimin was sure would have hurt less than those four words that left the woman's lips. He cradled you against him, pressing your limp form to him as if he could prevent the horrid fate that awaited you from taking you from his side.

"Leave. I want to be alone."

The royal physician stood up and bowed down at the broken man along with the maids and guards in the room at the whispered command of their king.

The door slid shut and silence drowned the room. He was left alone with you but this wasn't a joyous moment. Jimin lied you down on the bedding beneath you as tears rolled down his cheeks. His hand held yours with a delicate touch as his eyes roamed over your figure.

"You cannot leave me, (y/n). You can't. You belong here, with me, with Ha-joon. You cannot leave me alone."

But those words didn't reach your ears. You didn't hear his begging, his pleading. And he only held you tighter. Wishing that this was just a sick nightmare of his.

"Please... Queen of my heart. Do not leave us behind."

One of Jimin's hands fisted the soft fabric of your dress, needing to ground his thoughts, to be in the present and stop his mind from picturing all the horrible scenarios in his head.

"Do not abandon me in a world without you by my side."

Fate was cruel. Jimin loved you but now you were going to be robbed from him. He didn't know when, he didn't know how much time he had left with you, he didn't know how much pain you'd have to endure. He didn't know he'd have so little time next to you and that fact pained him beyond words.

"I need you, Queen of mine. I love you."

Words weren't enough to change fate. He knew it. He knew everything yet he still tried. He pleaded to the heavens to not take you, to not rob you in such a cruel way.

"I love you, (y/n)."

But love wasn't enough to save you from death. Love wasn't strong enough to keep you next to your husband. To watch your son grow into a fine prince that would rule the kingdom one day. Love wasn't enough. It had never been.

Jimin knew that but he still cried. He still pleaded, he still hoped.

Snow fell wildly outside, the wind could be heard when you opened your eyes and found yourself in Jimin's room, rather than your own. You had been resting in his bedroom for some days now, not really sure how many.

Hoseok was by your side the next second as he helped you sit up, he didn't speak a word and your heart shook within you at the sight of your distressed friend. You watched as he prepared your medicine, silence fell into the room as the candles flickered in the middle of the night.

"Please take your medicine, My Queen."

He spoke, holding the spook with the tonic you had been taking for so long, it seemed.

"Don't make me take it again, Hobi. It's too sour."

He sighed, eyes lowering onto his lap but still holding out the spoon to you.

"Please, Your Majesty. It'll help you get better."

You took a deep breath as you leaned forward and opened your mouth, taking the medicine like your friend wanted you too. Even when you shut your eyes shut and scrunched your nose at the taste, you managed to swallow it.

"I won't get better, Hobi. You know it too."

You weren't a stranger to your disease, Jimin told you himself about your predicament. You remember how your heart broke at the sight of his distress, his eyes were red and puffy, shining with new tears that he refused to let go. His hands shook as they held yours.

Hoseok sighed and the soft noise brought you out of your thoughts. He put the spoon and bottle aside as his eyes locked with your own and you were able to see the sorrow in his usually cheerful gaze.

"I know. I'm sorry, My Queen."

Your hand rested atop his as a soft yet sad smile was painted over your lips.

"Don't apologise. Don't be sad. Don't cry. Why don't you bring me some fish-shaped pastries and you tell me what Ha-joon did today?"

He nodded with a smile that didn't reach his eyes before standing up without saying a word. Hoseok walked down the corridors back to the king's chamber where you were resting with a round container in his hands where the pastries rested. He couldn't help but let his mind wander back to those summer days when you were still a princess and your worries revolved around what silk to choose for your next dress.

He wanted to go back to those golden days when the sun shone brightly and warmth filled the palace.

"Princess!"

You turned around at the sound of the voice of one of your closest people in the palace. The royal counsellor's son and a dear friend of yours, Jung Hoseok.

When he arrived next to you a smile was painted over his lips, he bowed down at you making you frown a bit.

"Stop it, I've told you many times before that you don't have to bow in front of me."

He chuckled, his hands behind his back as he straightened back up.

"Yes, I have. There are so many guards and court ladies that could see and that wouldn't be good for me, princess."

You sighed at his answer. He had said it time and time again but you just wanted to have a normal friendship, was that too much to ask? Maybe it was. At least for now.

"I'm sorry, you are right. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble because of me."

Hoseok smiled and that made a small smile paint over your own lips. That was a power only he had, he would smile and it would make you smile too.

"It's alright, I can be sneaky when I want. Especially to the kitchen. They never knew when I was there."

That made you let out a snort before laughing completely. Forgetting about proper manners or who could be watching you at that moment, you just lived that fragment of time. Enjoy it how it should be enjoyed.

"Speaking of..."

He continued, bringing his hands in front of him only for you to notice the small package covered with white fabric. You smiled widely at him.

"...I managed to sneak out some fish-shaped pastries."

You let out a squeal while Hoseok unwrapped the package and opened the lid for you to see he had bought your favourite dessert.

"Thank you, Hobi! I've been craving this since last week!"

With that, you took one and immediately began eating it, savouring the sweet flavour inside your mouth as you closed your eyes for a moment.

"Why didn't you just order for the maids to bring some pastries to your room, your highness?"

You sighed, swallowing the sweet treat only for then to say, your joyous face turning slightly sombre when the bubble of happiness was suddenly popped with reality.

"I am not allowed to eat anything like this, at least not until my wedding day. King's orders."

Hoseok's eyes widened in surprise at your words. Panic flared through his features as he came to the sudden realisation that he was disobeying the king's direct order. He looked around frantically, searching for people nearby that had witnessed him giving you the pastries while you continued to munch on another bite of the sweet treat.

The next thing he did, however, made your eyes widen as the remainder of the fish-shaped sweet was taken from your hand rather abruptly only for Hoseok to throw it in his mouth at the end. It all happened too fast you were left staring at your best with a dumbfounded face.

"Yah! Why did you d-"

You cut your sentence when you spotted one of the court ladies followed by a group of maids appearing in your peripheral vision. You quickly straightened your back while Hoseok hid the package he was holding behind his back, swallowing the remains of the pastry he took from your hands.

The court lady bowed when she stood in front of you, the other maids mirroring her actions. When she stood back up, she said, her voice cold and her attitude as strict as always.

"My Lady, His Majesty; The King, has requested your presence at the main hall."

You curtsided softly, a soft smile on your face.

"Thank you, I shall go there immediately."

And with that, you turned around and began walking along the large gardens with Hobi following you at a proper distance. When you rounded a corner and were out of the court lady's sight, you sighed. Hoseok caught up to you and you smiled at him.

"Thanks, Hobi."

Those whispered words made him smile, he looked back before saying.

"I should probably go back, I'll see you later, princess."

You nodded at him with a soft smile over your beautiful features and he bowed slightly at you only for then to fast-walk to the opposite direction from where you stood. You were left alone again and took a deep breath before you continued on your way to the throne room where your presence was requested.

The memory flashed in front of his eyes in an instant. His heart filled with melancholy at the lost memory in the past before he slid open the bedroom door and found you asleep on the bedding.

Hoseok sighed, putting the pastries aside as he went to blow away some of the candles to let you sleep peacefully.

If only he could take away your pain, your disease, he would. For he remembered how you saved him from death when he was falsely accused of treason, he remembered your desperation. Hoseok was your best and only friend in the palace and he only wished he could repay the favour of saving his life with now saving your own, even if he knew that was not possible.

"The Queen hasn't left the King's chambers for a while."

"I wonder if she's alright."

"I've seen the royal physician go in and out a couple of times."

Jungkook had heard this and more rumours around the palace. He wasn't going to lie, he was worried about you. He hasn't seen you since that day when he was playing with the little prince in the white gardens.

Maybe she's pregnant again.

That was his main thought and final conclusion. Not wanting to ponder on the idea that much to save himself the heartache. He entered the guard's palace, going straight to his room. Dusk had already settled and the night was cold.

"Yah! Jungkook! Do you know what happened to Her Majesty?"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, seeing a bunch of younger guards eating some ramen in the corner of the common hall.

"What do you mean?"

He asked. A frown adorning his handsome features. One of the guards stood up from the small table and walked over to Jungkook.

"Do you know why the Queen has not been seen around anymore? Rumours said she is pregnant again."

Jungkook looked past him at the bundle of men gathered in silence to listen to what he had to say.

"Why would I know? I've been taking care of His Highness as of lately."

The man in front of him scoffed, looking back at his peers before glancing back at Jungkook.

"Aren't you the Queen's royal guard? Shouldn't you be with her at all times?"

Jungkook sighed, feeling his patience leave his body quickly. He turned around, waving a hand to the man who wished to pester him with his questions.

"I don't have time for this."

"Why? Are you the prince's babysitter now?"

Jungkook closed his eyes, wanting to disappear from that exact second.

"What's going on here?"

Captain Min's voice boomed around the common room, making everyone go silent, even the men who were only watching and snickering in the corners.

"Nothing, Captain."

"Nothing."

Jungkook and the man in front of him answered at the same time. Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Go back to your table, Kwon. Jeon, come with me."

The latter nodded, sending a final glare to the man whose surname was now to his knowledge. Yoongi dragged Jungkook to another room with more privacy. He turned around, eyes softening at the sight of his friend.

"What is it?"

Yoongi's question was delicate, a soft tone only certain people had heard of the stoic man.

"I haven't seen her in days, Yoongi. I don't know what is going on and it's killing me on the inside."

The older man let out a sigh, pondering if he should tell Jungkook about your condition or if that information would only stress him further.

"You know, don't you?"

Yoongi looked up only to meet Jungkook's big and sad eyes.

"Yes. But I do not know if you should be aware of her situation or if it will cause you more harm."

Jungkook's heart constricted in his chest with those words. A part of him didn't want to know. He didn't want to risk the heartache, so many possibilities swarmed his head that it made him dizzy.

"Tell me. Please."

He whispered and Yoongi sighed once more. He knew of Jungkook's innocent yet strong feelings for you and he'd hate to break his precious heart but his wish was his right.

"She's sick, Jungkook. The physician examined her a couple of days ago and she said the Queen was born with a weak heart and her long labour worsened her condition. She said there was no cure."

A tear escaped his eye slowly, his heart ached deep within him at the information. You were sick? If you had had it since birth, why weren't you more careful? But all those thoughts did nothing to alleviate his pain.

"I'm sorry, Kook."

Said Yoongi with a heavy voice. In sympathy for his friend for he knew this kind of pain. He was no stranger to heartache. He understood.

"Would you like me to stay or do you want to be alone?"

"I want to be alone, hyung."

His response was empty. Colourless. Cold. Yoongi nodded without saying another word. He quietly walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Jungkook closed his eyes as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. He took it all in. The pain. The heartache. The distress. The despair. He welcomed it all and allowed himself to cry in his solitude as snow fell from the sky on a cold winter night with no apparent morning sun to warm his soul.

A couple of days later you were still in Jimin's room. Hoseok was playing with Ha-joon as you watched them fondly. You didn't have the energy to stand anymore. The disease was deteriorating you, killing you. A part of you believed it was due to the heartache you had gone through that now you were being punished with a heart disease.

How ironic, isn't it?"

Ha-joon laughed, distracting you from your sombre thoughts. You looked at your son, watching as he laughed and enjoyed his time. The little prince hadn't seen you for weeks since you fell sick and he missed you immensely.

"My prince, come here."

You spoke, opening your arms for the little boy. His eyes lit up as he left his toys on the ground and ran towards you. The impact of his little body against yours was enough to leave you breathless.

Hoseok watched as you embraced your son with pain, as if he were to leave and you didn't want to let go.

"I love you so much, you know that, right?"

Ha-joon nodded in your chest before he gazed up at you with a cute smile. You smiled as well, trying to blink the tears that began to moisture your eyes.

"You'll be a worthy Crown Prince one day and the most respected king of Gyeongdong when you grow up. I love you so much, my little prince."

"Mummy..."

Ha-joon put his little hand on your cheeks, lovingly gazing into your eyes as your heart broke into a million pieces realising you weren't going to see him grow and become a great man. Your time in this place was slipping through your fingers like water in your hands.

"I love you too, mummy."

You hugged Ha-joon as your eyes met with Hoseok's sad gaze. He offered you a smile and you did your best to return the gesture, even when your heart was aching, from the disease or from your own pain you couldn't tell anymore.

It had always been a similar pain.

Always there, always cold. Always present in your life.

That night was cold. Hoseok had taken Ha-joon to his own room and verified he was sleeping before returning to tend to you. Jimin hadn't arrived yet as he was busy tending to some ministers and political matters you were no longer aware of.

"The prince fell asleep quickly, Your Majesty. I left Eun-ah to watch him during the night."

You nodded with a smile. Feeling your eyes drop with tiredness. You were already settled for the night, ready to close your eyes and sleep even when your exhaustion wouldn't leave your body.

"Thank you, Hobi. You should go and rest too, you look tired."

For he did. His skin was paler than usual and bags rested under his eyes. You could see it and it pained you to see your best friend so tired and sad all the time.

But he shook his head, a melancholic feeling swam in his warm eyes as he looked at you.

"I would like to wait until His Majesty is with you, My Queen. I do not wish for you to be alone."

Your hand rested over his and he turned to look at you meeting your eyes filled with tears.

"Hobi... what would I do without you?"

He only smiled, not saying a word. Not wanting to break the soft moment so you continued.

"Thank you for being my friend all these years. Thank you for always being by my side and for giving me your friendship."

A tear left his eye and rolled down his honeyed skin at your words. Realising that this was your goodbye to him.

"Please take care of Ha-joon for me. He is really fond of you, Hobi."

He nodded, feeling how his emotions choked him. It pained him to even think of you leaving his side. You, his best friend. His only companion, his princess since childhood.

"I promise, sweet Queen of mine."

You smiled at his whispered promise, squeezing his hand softly. The door slipped open and entered your husband. Hoseok let go of your hand as he stood up in a swift movement. He bowed down at the king before he left the bedroom in silence.

"How are you feeling, Queen of my heart?"

Jimin asked as he knelt in front of you. You smiled. Feeling how your heart ached in the cage that was your body.

"I'm fine, my King."

He knew you were lying. He knew your words weren't true to your reality. He knew it all. He knew you. But he chose to not mind your lies for he didn't know how much time he'd be gifted by your side. He smiled, allowing his hand to cradle the side of your face as he looked at you with pure adoration in his dark eyes.

"Say it. Let me hear my name on your lips. Grant me that wish, grant me that honour."

You swallowed, knowing how much your condition was killing your sweet husband from the inside.

"King of my existence. My Jimin. My sweet husband."

He smiled sadly. His hand left your cheek and took your hand instead, feeling how you gripped weakly onto it.

"I love you, (y/n)."

You could only smile fondly at his declaration of love. His eyes twinkled at your reaction.

"Do you also share my sentiment?"

He asked almost shyly, looking down at his hand that covered yours.

"Of course. How couldn't I?"

Jimin's eyes met yours as he smiled. His gesture was priceless for your words of affirmation was the only thing he cherished to hear, the only melody he wished to always remember and a verse of a poem that would never end.

"Didn't you have an important meeting with some ministers?"

Your voice broke the silence that hung in the room. You sat facing a large mirror, staring at your own reflection while Jimin was behind you brushing your hair with a golden comb. Your back rested against his chest, your hair rested over your shoulder as he brushed it with delicacy.

"I have more important things to attend to right now. Do not bother yourself with such thoughts, Queen of my heart."

You blushed softly at his words, looking down at your hands resting on your lap. It wasn't snowing outside but the room was cold, shivers ran through your body from time to time despite the closeness of your husband and the many blankets around you two.

"Jimin, can you promise me something?"

He didn't allow the frown that threatened to appear between his brows mark his soft features. He nodded, eyes searching your own through the mirror despite you having your gaze down.

"I'd give you the moon and stars in a golden tray if they were mine to possess in the first place."

You smiled softly, hating to break his heart with your next words. Hating your own fate and feeling your heart constrict within you at the mere thought of his pain the next moment you were to speak. 

“Please don’t lose your smile after I’m gone.”

His eyes lost their spark. The softness in his features disappeared like a burning flame splashed with the water of reality. Your hand grabbed his and at his silence, you continued. 

“Tell Ha-joon that his mother loved him so much.”

Tears gathered in your husband’s eyes, his mind realising this was your goodbye to him but his heart refused to believe his time with you was this short. He didn’t accept that he’d have to let go this sudden. 

“And live every day as if it's your last.”

The crystalline pearls of sadness rolled down his cheeks, his hands squeezed yours as his eyes locked with your own. 

“I’ll find you in my next lifetime, Queen of my heart.”

Jimin brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your skin. As if wanting to seal his love with that small gesture. 

“Thank you, Jimin. For your love and your respect. Don’t lose your spark, don’t cry those precious tears and allow your heart to heal if I broke it without wanting to. Forgive me.”

He sobbed, not wanting to let go of your hand as if that could prevent you from leaving his side. The sound of his sobs and cries shattered your heart and tears of your own began leaking down your cheeks in silence while you witnessed him mourn your fate.

"There's nothing to forgive. I could never be mad at you, not even if you were to kill me with your own hands."

His hands pressed you against him. Needing to feel you close to him. Needing this moment, this memory to be engraved in mis mind and soul so that he could seek solace in it when his heart cried in the darkness. 

You closed your eyes, leaning back against your husband who cried his heart out, whose world was going to be taken away from him. You mourned his sadness while your heart broke at the thought of leaving your little family behind. Leaving your life, your love in a cruel world. 

The apple of my eyes.

Woman of my heart.

Enchantress of love.

Mistress of my soul.

The days are longer.

I miss you. I need you.

My love gets stronger.

I cry over my solitude.

Did we ever have a chance?

Do I deserve the happiness you bring to this world?

Am I worthy of your hand?

Am I enough to a jewel like you?

Do I deserve your devotion?

Is it cruel of me to want you?

Ever so fiercely. So fully.

My darling. My Queen. My lover. My everything.

Live in my heart forever.

Stick in my mind to eternity.

Don't leave this man to suffer with your absence.

Don't leave me to burn in my own ashes.

A sudden knock on his door made Jungkook break out of his trance, he put the brush down and stood up as the door slid open and he was met with Hoseok. His eyes were casted down, not meeting the soft gaze of the royal guard.

“Jungkook, the Queen requests your presence in His Majesty’s chambers.”

The younger man’s heart sped up at the thought of seeing you. He hadn’t been able to even get a glimpse of you since that day in the gardens. His soul was desperate to see you, his heart screamed at him to go and search for you. It was torture, to separate two lovers, that is. 

Jungkook nodded, not missing the way Hoseok’s demeanour was different. He looked sad, worried. Cold. He wished he could ask him what was wrong but feared he’d be overstepping a line with the slightly older male who was a dear friend of yours. 

 "Thank you, I'll go there immediately."

Hoseok nodded with a soft movement before he stepped out of the room. Jungkook sighed, arranging his papers correctly before heading out the door.

His feet carried him along the large and cold corridors of the palace. His heart was in his throat as nerves bubbled in his stomach. 

Jungkook was a brave soldier. He has fought many battles as scars adorned his body. He has been on the verge of death several times before but ironically, right now was when he felt more nervous than when he was holding a sword in his hand. 

He took a deep breath, standing in front of the King's chambers. He hesitated for a second, not knowing what he'd hear from your lips at the other side of that door. He didn't know how he would react after not having seen you in so many days he has already lost count of. 

He knocked only to hear your command for him to come in. Your voice was soft, weak even. But that didn't matter when butterflies erupted in his stomach at the mere sweet sound of your voice.

Jungkook entered the room the next second, he slid the door closed behind him while he kept his eyes trained on the dark wood below his feet. 

"Jungkook."

His name coming from your lips was the sweetest melody he has ever heard. He had missed it. He had missed you. His eyes locked with yours and he nearly gasped at the sight of you laying on the soft bedding, your skin was paler than usual, your eyes were tired and your body was beyond weakened.

"Your Majesty."

He acknowledged you. Bowing softly at you without tearing his gaze from you. He saw you shift in your position, laying on your left side so you could see him properly. You smiled and in an instant his dark world was lightened by your existence. 

"Come closer, Jungkook. Come here."

Your hand extended towards him as if trying to reach him. He couldn't hold himself back any longer upon your innocent request as his legs moved with a mind of their own. Nearly jumping until he was kneeling by your side, his hand holding yours ever so softly.

“I heard… I heard that you are sick, my Queen. Is it true?”

Jungkook asked almost shyly. Not meeting your eyes as his own gaze was fixed on your joined hands. 

“It is.”

He sighed at your response. Feeling how his heart clenched within him. Tears watered his dark eyes and a lump grew in your throat at the sight of his sadness. 

“Don’t cry, Jungkook. Don’t waste your tears over me.”

He looked up at you, his expression hurt with your words. A frown was between his brows, eyes watered with his materialised sadness and a soul that he could no longer carry on his own. 

“How can you say that to me? I am dying with you, my Queen. Only you are capable of causing me the greatest pain yet it is you who eradicates it as well.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling your chest aching. Your mind was shutting down as you gazed at the man you loved with your entire being. 

“Forgive me.”

He shook his head, refusing to let his tears roll down his cheeks as his eyes roamed over your face as if trying to memorise all your little details in his mind. 

“It is I who should beg for forgiveness. I cannot protect you from this, I have failed you. I cannot prevent you from leaving me.”

A tear left the corner of your eye as you looked at him with so many unsaid things and raging emotions you were never able to pour out. It was too much. Too much love. Too much longing. Too much sadness. Too much anger. Your heart couldn’t take it any more.

“Maybe you can’t make me stay, but you gave me the opportunity of knowing what it was to love. Even when we couldn’t be together in the end, I still love you. I will always love you, Jungkook. In each… in each lifetime.”

Both of his hands squeezed your own, feeling your grip on them weaken by the second. What kind of punishment is this? To love you so fiercely, so wholeheartedly only to be snatched from him like this? What did he do in his past life to deserve such pain, such misfortune, such punishment? 

Is love a crime?

“You still wear it, huh?”

He asked, sniffling softly while his eyes locked with the small red braided bracelet he had given you that autumn day. When life was kinder. When it wasn’t as cold as winter. When he still held hope for happiness. When life was simpler...

 “I never took it off.”

You whispered, smiling up at him as your eyes traced his features. 

“I love you, Jungkook.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks, not being able to stop them any longer. He smiled through his tears, needing to say the words back to you. 

“And I love you, (y/n). I’ll love you in every lifetime, in every form, in any timeline. I will always love you.”

You chuckled softly, squeezing his hand with all the strength you had left in your body. 

“You’ve said it. Thank you.”

He smiled down at you. Remembering how you once pleaded to him to speak your name, to hear it come from his lips. He could no longer deny you such pleasure. He wished he had said it that time. 

“I’ll see you again. I’ll see you in my next lifetime.”

Jungkook nodded, taking a deep breath while not being able to look away from you. He wouldn’t dare to. 

“I’ll find you. I promise.”

You smiled. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Your eyes closed as you relished on the feeling of his lips against your skin. 

“I love you, my Queen.”

That was the last thing you heard before darkness fully enveloped you. The smile from your lips disappeared as your hand fell limp in Jungkook’s grasp. He sobbed, pressing your hand against his cheek only to feel your skin already cooling down. His other hand caressed your cheek with delicacy, his lips trembled and his tears couldn’t stop from leaving his waterline. 

A pain in his chest settled forever. Dying would have been more merciful than living like this. Jungkook lived in an eternal winter. The coldness was taking everything from him. Freezing his heart, leaving his memories covered with frost. Everything was cold. Your hand, his heart, his life. Everything was cold. That was the only thing he could feel. Only the coldness of his reality was covered in a deep and thick layer of white snow; the colour of sorrow. The colour of nothing. 

All in an eternal winter of pain with no spring in sight. His hopes died with you, he had died with you. Only his heart was still beating. But death had claimed him as well, cursed him with the coldness of sorrow and a lost love for eternity. 

The funeral was held three days later. Ministers and people from the village were all mourning their Queen. They all dressed in white robes, standing in the large palace gardens as they knelt on the cold ground. 

The king walked in the middle of the golden path with Ha-joon by his side. His small hand in his own as the both of them walked toward where your casket was. Some of the people were crying, others were praying as they all shared the king’s sorrow. 

Hoseok, Yoongi, Jungkook and your father were guarding your casket, waiting for your husband to arrive and complete the ceremony. Their hearts were heavy, the skies were grey as little snowflakes fell down from the thick clouds. 

Ha-joon ran to where Hoseok stood, burning his face in his robes as he began to cry silently. Jimin’s heart clenched at the sight of his son mourning the death of his mother. He placed a red rose in between your hands, accommodating your red bracelet on your wrist. He had seen you wear it everyday so it should stay with you in your final resting place. He turned to look at the people, his face cold, missing your warmth next to him. He could no longer cry, his tears were gone only leaving a deep hole in his heart.

“Let’s give the Queen the goodbye she deserves.”

Jimin spoke to his people who all rose to their feet. Yoongi and Jungkook along with two more guards began carrying your casket made of crystal with golden details down the palace entrance. A tear rolled down Jungkook’s cheek when he spotted the bracelet he made for you still attached to your wrist. 

The king was walking in front of them while Hoseok walked with Ha-joon behind them. The slightly older man was crying silently while holding your son’s hand in his. 

“I miss mummy.”

Jungkook closed his eyes at the prince’s words. Hoseok sighed and picked the child up in his arms, hugging him to his chest while continuing to walk down the frozen path. 

“We all do, my prince. We all do.”

That night, Jimin found solace in the darkness of his room. He sighed at the empty feeling of the place he once shared with you. Ha-joon was sleeping in his bedding, neither of them wanting to be alone after your passing. A lone tear left his eyes, rolling down his cheek slowly.

He looked to where Ha-joon was sleeping soundly and let out a deep sigh. Jimin knew facing this new reality was going to be tough for him as a husband who lost his wife and for Ha-joon who lost his mother while the kingdom lost their Queen. 

He felt his heart freeze with the remnants of your love. No other woman would ever be in your place while he lived. No other woman would ever sit next to him in the throne and Ha-joon won’t call another woman “mother”. He couldn’t betray you like that. He couldn’t discard his love for you that easily. 

Winter settled in his heart, frost covered his heart and memories. There were no more summer days and spring was never going to arrive in Jimin. For he was also cursed by the coldness of sorrow forever.

The moon rose high in the sky that night, being the only source of light for Jungkook as he left the palace grounds in silence. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He was going to leave that place of golden memories for they were now shattered in fragments of ice. You were no longer there to warm his days in the palace. You were no longer there to smile at him from a distance. Your absence killed him. Froze him. 

His footsteps got covered by the snow falling from the skies, his silhouette was soon lost to the eye as he walked among the snow and the darkness of the night. 

I’ll find you, I promise.

His own words resonated in his mind. With each step he took, he felt how another layer of ice covered his heart. No other woman would ever enter his heart for he was sealing it with the chains of his sorrow. 

No-one ever saw Jungkook after that night. Some people said he went to a little village to live between his solitude and his poems. Others said he married a woman with great semblance to the late Queen. Others said he died, either by his own hand or by a heart disease. 

No-one exactly knew what happened to First Officer Jeon Jungkook after the Queen’s funeral. Not even Yoongi, who found his friend’s room empty the next morning. Everything was placed neatly and only a single sheet of paper laid on his wooden desk with a poem written on it. 

Yoongi folded the paper and put it in his pocket, feeling loneliness creep up into his heart at Jungkook’s leaving. Yet his friend’s heartache was stronger, he had to leave and Yoongi understood. He knew he’d never see Jungkook again so he could only wish him luck in whatever he may venture in next. His love poem was kept in his possession for all his life. Reading it from time to time and feeling Jungkook’s pain through the only thing he left behind, his words. His heart poured out on a sheet of paper. 

You have poisoned me with your love.

Like a drug.

An addiction only you can control.

And now you are gone, taking my life with your own.

I am dead in ever sense of the word,

yet my heart still beats inside me.

What kind of punishment is this?

I prefer a thousand times to die by your hand than to live a life without you by my side.

You exist now only in my memories.

My most precious treasure.

My love will be known through centuries;

because meeting you was my biggest pleasure.

Queen of mine,

wait for me in your next life.

Maybe you had left this world

but you still live in my heart.

Forever shall I remember you,

may this letter be a proof of my devotion to you.

Sultana of my mind.

Owner of my heart.

Lover of mine.

October/28/2023

~Masterpost

**I do NOT give my consent for this or any of my works to be posted or translated into any other platforms or languages. 

[nahoney22]

Hey! Hope you’re enjoying the new season!

So, who are your top ten clones. GO!

this is gonna be tough and I won’t lie, I can’t pick 10 so it may be top 12 lmao

But, here’s my top 10(12) 😆

10th. Cody - Handsome dude and did break my heart in the prequels. Good soldier, sassy, and would return my lightsaber. 😊 hope he’s safe.

9th. Waxer - my first love and first heartbreak of TCW. Absolute sweetie and would be a great dad. I miss him 💔

8th. Joint at 8th place is Dogma and Fox - two slight controversial characters for some but absolute angels to me. Love writing for Dogma and Foxiyo until I die is what I say. Would smash.

7th. Wrecker - tricky placement. Cute. Handsome. Looks like a cinnamon roll, is a cinnamon roll and could kill me. Bit too loud for me sometimes though. Would cuddle 🤗

6th. Hunter - my type on paper to a T. Handsome and kinda but also moody. Coolest tattoo. Some choices are questionable but a morally good guy imo. Would brush his hair for him ❤️

5th. Wolffe - bark fucking bark. Or howl maybe. Handsome, moody, and a proper son to my favourite Jedi Plo. I need to and have to write/read more fics about him (open to recommendations pls)

4th. Rex - because how can there ever be a top 10 list without him? An OG. A legend. Sweet and a great leader and loyal to a fault. Again, would like to read or write more about him in fics. I’m not into blondes but for him? Yes.

3rd. Fives - oh my beloved fives. The nightmares are finally over. I have never hyperventilated over a characters death before until his. A legend, handsome and funny. I miss him a lot and wish there were more callbacks to him. Nobody would ever know if it wasn’t for him.

2nd. A hard spot to place but for me Echo and Crosshair are joint here. Two big personalities but very different and complex. I do think Echo is my favourite character to write about out of anyone and Crosshair is just… Crosshair. I like a bad guy but also a grey character in my eyes. Would give them both a kiss on the head and a cookie. 🍪

1st. Tech. Tech. Tech. Tech. Surprise surprise. A personal comfort character for me who I miss alot. Could not rewatch the show because of his death and I miss his big stupid brown eyes 😭 handsome, has the coolest gear, would marry. Either love him or hate him. For me, it’s love and beyond.

There you go 😆 again, this is just my personal favourites and I’m sorry if someone you hate is up there or if someone you love isn’t. It was a difficult choice.

Curios to see everyone else’s so feel free to RB and give me your top 10… or 12… or more! Reasons not necessary 😊

Thanks for the ask!

[deathisararemercy]

Sacrifice

Death x Reader

The center of town was where the real party was at. A small scaffold was set up in the plaza. White lilies were set in baskets around it in dazzling grandeur. On the scaffold was a grand table, set with a brilliant spread. Only one person was seated at it. Out of all the people in the town, they were the only person dressed head-to-toe in black. Muerte couldn’t see their face as a veil covered it, but he could tell their head was bent as they picked at their final meal. This year’s sacrifice.

A/N: I always write these when I'm sleepy, y'know? Not just the fics but also the author's notes in general. I think writing the notes are my favorite part. Do people even read these? Tweedledee-tweedledum- alright. Let's get into it, shall we? This is actually a lot cuter than what the title would suggest, but it also has such an ending with some different interpretations. This is a tiny tiny bit Halloween-y and out of season, but I swear I'll try to write something for Valentine's Day. That fic will definitely be cute and fluffy, I promise.

The fire was dying out.

Not that it mattered much anyway. He was Death; things like the cold, rain, or snow didn’t affect him. Building this campfire at the edge of the dark wood was wholly unnecessary. It was probably going to attract unwanted attention to himself. But watching the dancing sparks from the campfire was a nice distraction from seeing whatever it was that was going on in the town just down the hill. He could feel it in the air and the way the stars glared down at him. Muerte wrinkled his nose. The air smelled sour like rotten onions and inevitable death. But also lamb. He liked lamb.

He stomped out the dying embers of the fire and checked that the area was all nice and clean. The wind hummed a bit. He whistled in response. Satisfied, the wolf drew his hood and began the walk into town.

For what must have been a century now, the villagers of this village held a festival to “keep Death at bay” every year due to a horrible plague that once passed through the town. It had been an awful year with a poor harvest and horrible disease. Muerte could still remember the exhilarating smell of their constant fear. He never experienced anything like it; it was like walking through an electrifying haze for days that left him in a constant state of adrenaline. Despite that, he felt guilty each time he had to take a life during his stay. And there were many.

He was silent and solemn each time he arrived at someone’s deathbed, trying to be gentle. But the way the families screamed and begged, their wails and sobs as he grimly cut the cord tethering their loved ones’ spirits to the mortal realm, haunted him long after he left the town. The spirits had hated him too, pleading for him to send them back, just so they could live a little longer, just so they could say goodbye, and cursing him when he said he could not.

But Death is a promise, not a bargain to be made.

And the villagers had been terrified of El Lobo Muerte ever since.

Since then, each year, they’d put up torches that would burn all through the night and offer one person as a sacrifice, leaving them in the center of the largest field. One hundred years later, the festival was more of a celebration to keep away illness for the coming year and dress up in costume. Little decorations would be pasted up like wolves and skulls. Sickles would be painted red and hung up next to the fields of crops.

In reality, Muerte couldn't control when people died. He was just there to release the dead from the mortal realm and send them on their way to the spirit world. But it was cute, seeing the little paper skulls they pasted up, the decorated gourds, and- oh that smelled good. They were selling chopped pieces of lamb on skewers this year. His red eyes darted to the stall where they were selling them. A small crowd had gathered there. He’d come back and buy two later.

The center of town was where the real party was at. A small scaffold was set up in the plaza. White lilies were set in baskets around it in dazzling grandeur. On the scaffold was a grand table, set with a brilliant spread. Only one person was seated at it. Out of all the people in the town, they were the only person dressed head-to-toe in black. Muerte couldn’t see their face as a veil covered it, but he could tell their head was bent as they picked at their final meal.

This year’s sacrifice.

Muerte leaned against a stall, watching them try to take another bite of food before pushing away their plate. They grabbed a golden chalice and took a long drink.

“Steeling your nerves. Interesting.’’

“What?”

The wolf looked around. He was leaning right against another lamb stall. This one was selling mini-pies. The cook looked up at him in confusion, not fear. Well, it looked like even after just a century, no one bothered to tell anyone what Death looked like.

The wolf grinned, baring his teeth. “Oh, it’s nothing. Say,’’ he leaned down to take a peek at the wares. “Could I have two of those please?”

==x==x==

The procession began at eleven bells. The town suddenly fell silent and solemn as a committee of hooded figures approached the scaffold. The sacrifice trembled as they rose, whether it be from fear, fatigue, or drink Muerte didn’t know. When they reached the bottom of the scaffold, a bouquet of lilies was procured for them by one of the hooded figures. The figures then surrounded the sacrifice until Death could barely see the top of their head. And then, they began to walk.

The crowd parted silently as the hooded figures led the sacrifice out of the village, closing the gap as the procession left. Their pace was horribly slow, but they did need to fill up an hour of time. Muerte followed the procession from a distance.

When they reached the edge of town, where the crowds were thin, the light grew dim, and the stars seemed a bit brighter, one of the hooded figures spoke. “This is the final time you will step foot in this village. Once you leave the light, you are to be led into the dark. With your back to the light, you walk into the cold embrace of death in order for the light to continue to burn bright for all those you leave behind.”

With that, the sacrifice was blindfolded, their veil covered their face again, and their hands were bound. They linked arms with one of the hooded figures and the small procession continued to the village’s largest field. The moon was full and beautiful, and the winds hummed a little tune. The wolf whistled quietly in response.

Muerte walked softly and silently, undetected by the mortals. His eyes glowed red as he tried to see further in the dark. The figures were just leaving the sacrifice there. No final words, no last requests. The figures led them to the center of the field, cleared away except for a cut tree stump, on which they seated the sacrifice. Then they just…left.

Something in Muerte’s chest twisted, his lip curling in disgust as he watched them leave the poor sacrifice alone. In the distance, the village bell tower rang twelve bells. He could faintly hear the person hold their breath expectantly. That was his cue.

“Well, well,” the wolf smirked as he pushed away the crops and stood in the clearing. “If it isn’t this year’s little lamb.” The person stood up suddenly, hopelessly trying to see the wolf in the dark. “Relax,” he chuckled, “I’m not going to eat you.”

“But-”

“Here.” He swiftly removed their veil and blindfold. The wolf suddenly hesitated. Those terrified eyes were…prettier than he expected. If he looked at them any longer, he just might-

Muerte spun them around, grabbing their shoulder so that they wouldn’t trip and fall. Their body was small and warm beneath his cold paws and firm grip. Could he just think clearly for one-

He drew one of his sickles and slashed the rope binding their wrists together. The villager yelped at the sudden release before righting themself. They turned around, and Death focused on staring at the point just between their eyebrows. Their eyebrows knit together as they examined him in the moonlight. Adorable.

“Are you…Death?”

“Yes. Yes, I am. And you are?”

They hesitated before giving their name. “My, my, my. What a beautiful name.”

“It’s the same as any other name,” they scoffed. He could see the faintest flicker of a smile flash across their face.

“Well, it’s the name of the person this town foolishly gave up this year. So I think it’s fairly important. Lamb?”

“Yes?”

The wolf howled in laughter, echoing through the silent night. If there was another villager out there, they’d surely be terrified. Muerte reached under his poncho and pulled out the pies, wrapped up in cloth. “I was asking if you wanted a lamb pie, cordero.”

Their face reddened. They snatched one of the pies away and turned their back towards him. “I- I knew that! I was just saying ‘yes’ as in ‘yes! I’d like a pie!’ you stupid lobo.”

Muerte placed a hand on his chest, gasping. “You dare call Death a stupid wolf! You better watch what you say. You never know what will be your final words.” The villager cast a glance back over their shoulder, gaze meeting Death’s. The two of them laughed.

Muerte sat down on the ground next to the stump. The villager stared at the stump before deciding to sit on the ground next to the wolf. They each ate their pies in silence, chewing thoughtfully. The wolf finished first, licking his lips. “You all outdo yourselves every year. That was delicious.”

The villager smiled, wiping their mouth with the back of their hand. “Thanks. We try to make it nice for you.”

Leaning his head on his hand, the wolf shrugged. “At this point, it’s less about me and just having a nice new year. But you know, I enjoy seeing all the cute costumes. A little kid dressed up like that Puss in Boots, running up to me with a stick sword.” His eyes narrowed suddenly, looking at the villager’s face. “Hang on.” They stiffened. He leaned in closer, close enough to smell them and feel them breathe. “You have something…right…there.” He gently wiped away a stray crumb of pie from their face.

“O-oh. Thank you!”

Was that pushing it? He narrowed his eyes again as he looked between that beautiful face and the crumb stuck to his fur. He licked his paw clean, eyes trained on the villager. Their face reddened again. He could feel them trembling a bit, though Muerte was fairly certain it wasn’t from fear.

“Say,” he began slowly, testing the words out, “Do you think I really eat people?”

They were startled and hurriedly responded, “No, of course not! At least…I hope not.”

“Well your prayers have been answered,” Muerte said, rising to his feet. The villager quickly followed. “I don’t really eat people. Neither does that Big Bad Wolf people tend to confuse me with.”

“But the others,” they said slowly, “the others from the previous years. What happened to them?”

The wolf shrugged. “I always bring food because I know they’ll barely be able to eat anything from the nerves. Then, I take them wherever they want to go, that isn’t this village.”

Their eyes widened. “You can do that?”

“Mm, yes. Granted, not everyone likes the way I travel. And the universe isn’t particularly keen on me doing this. But I don’t kill anyone. And they usually survive the trip.”

“‘Usually’?”

“I’m joking, cordero pequeño.” Muerte grinned. “So what will it be? Where would you like to go?”

The little lamb paused. “I…I don’t know.”

“Come on. You can go anywhere in the world. Just say the word.”

“I think I just want to be able to see you again.”

That took Death aback. He blinked rapidly. “What?”

“Was it weird? Sorry, I just- Listen. I want to see you again.” The mortal gestured around the field, ethereal under the moonlight. “I know I said I don’t think you eat people, but I also didn’t really expect to be alive past midnight. I don’t know where I want to go or what I want to do. But,” they added, stepping slowly towards the wolf, “now I think I want to get to know you more. You’re a pretty funny guy, Lobo Muerte.”

His heart fluttered in his chest. Well, mierda. The moonlight was caught in their hair, and they smelled sweet and full of life. Muerte bent down, reaching behind the stump to pick up the discarded bouquet of lilies. Quickly before it could wilt under his touch, he pressed one flower to the mortal’s chest. He smiled softly, tapping the tip of their nose. “We’ll find a place for you. And I'll be sure to visit before your time comes for real. I’d like to see you again too. Is that alright?”

They grinned. “Yes, of course.”

“Alright then.” The wolf unsheathed his scythes and thrust them upwards, cutting through the air. A shimmering door of light opened in front of the two. He smiled seeing the wonder on their face. “Let’s go.” And he whistled as they went.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Paper Flowers & Hearts Made of Glass

A/N: Warning, Karen does do some inappropriate things with Billy. It doesn't go into detail. If you don't like it, don't read it. It sheds a light on how weird Karen's attraction to Billy was. It's a big of a long one-shot. Also, anti Billy Hargrove, but Karen was the adult in this situation. She should have known better.

Summary: Pre-season 3 Au, After Nancy walks in on Karen with Billy, Nancy struggles with the fallout and the change in her family dynamic. Luckily, Jonathan and Steve are there to help her.

Nancy huffed as she checked for the batteries in her purse. Jonathan tapped his fingers in time to music as he waited for the light to turn green.

"We have to go back," Nancy said.

"What? Nancy, we're going to miss the movie," Jonathan said. "You wanted to go, right? Write about the Hawk Theater because it's close to closing, get some attention, and hopefully, Tom will finally put one of your articles in the paper."

"Okay, first of all, I don't care if I get attention in the paper. I care that yet another local business is in danger of being closed because that stupid mall went up," Nancy said. "I care about the truth, and second of all, I left the new batteries for my walkie on my dresser."

"We'll only be gone a couple of hours, Nance," Jonathan said.

"And you know as well as I do that a lot can happen in two hours," Nancy said. "The walkie is dead, and my house is closer than yours."

"Wait a minute . . . If you hate the mall so much, why did you go last week?" Jonathan asked.

"Holly needed a new dress, and mom was busy," Nancy said.

"Right, Holly needed a new dress," Jonathan scoffed.

"What?! She did!" Nancy exclaimed.

Jonathan knew exactly why she went. She wanted to catch a glimpse of Steve in his Scoops Ahoy uniform. It should have made him jealous, and if it hadn't been for him picking up Will from the mall a couple of weeks ago, he probably would have been. The wind had been picking up quite a hit that evening, the clouds darkening with hints of the arrival of a storm. Jonathan had been waiting in the parking lot when Steve came out of the mall in full uniform with the hat and everything. He almost started laughing until his eyes caught sight of the shorts that hugged his thighs just right and the very high socks that completed the look. It should have been just as ridiculous, but Jonathan had liked it. A little too much.

He then proceeded to watch as the hat flew off his head, the winds whipping his hair and his shirt furiously. Jonathan had seen the sliver of skin that showed as his shirt was pulled by the wind. Steve yelled and went after the hat. Jonathan laughed. He couldn't help it. Finally, the hat stopped, and Steve bent down to get it. The shorts hugged him tighter, and Jonathan couldn't help the thought that flew through his mind. Steve’s ass looked really good in those shorts. Steve set the hat back on his head and caught sight of Jonathan. He grinned and wiggled his fingers at him just as Will slid into the car.

"Jonathan!" Nancy's voice broke through the memory.

"Right," Jonathan gulped.

How could he explain to his girlfriend that he was having non-straight thoughts about her ex-boyfriend? It wasn't a conversation that Jonathan was ready to have yet. The light turned green, and he started driving back to Nancy's house. When they pulled up to her her house, they were too focused on their thoughts to notice the car parked down the street.

"Are you coming in or staying here? We both know Mike and Will are Lucas's. Holly is having a playdate over at the Simons'. You don't have to worry about my dad. He's out of town for work," Nancy said.

"Why would I worry about Ted?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't know, it doesn't seem like you two have a lot to talk about," Nancy said.

"He's just a man of few words, Nance," Jonathan said. "I like that about him."

"You don't have to say that," Nancy said.

"I'm really not, and he did try to show an interest in photography when you were with your mom. It was awkward, but then again, so am I, and if anyone understands what it's like to be afraid of putting your foot in your mouth that sometimes, you just say nothing, it's me. Also, he actually has really good taste in music," Jonathan said.

"That's true," Nancy said softly and looked at him fondly.

She kissed him and got out of the car. She walked into the house, a smile on her face. Nancy hurried up the stairs and rushed to grab the batteries. She shoved them into her purse and left her room. She stopped when she heard her mom moan loudly. Nancy peddled back to look through the open gap of her parents' bedroom door and froze at the sight. Her mother was writhing and bouncing naked on a man who was most certainly not her father if the blond hair was any indication. She couldn't see his face. . . At first. The man's head moved up, catching a glimpse of her and giving her a good view of his face. Billy Hargrove. Her mother was in the throws of passion with Billy Hargrove. Nancy felt sick and then grew angry when Billy smirked at her. She turned back towards her room and grabbed a bag before quickly throwing clothes into it. She wasn't going to stay here tonight. Nancy had been doing it so quickly that she hadn't realized she had been doing it loudly as well. Suddenly, her mother was bursting through the door wearing a robe.

"Nancy! You're home. I thought you were going to a movie," Karen said, and Nancy glared at her, making her realize that Nancy had seen. "Nancy, it's not - "

"Don't," Nancy said sharply and brushed past her.

Nancy ran down the stairs, racing past Billy sprawled out in her mother's bed smoking. She heard Karen chasing after her.

"Nancy, your father and I haven't been happy for - "

"SHUT UP!" Nancy yelled.

The anger in her heart grew along with the nausea in her stomach. Billy was the same age as Nancy. His mother might have been pregnant at the same time Karen had been with her. How could she do that? How does that not immediately turn someone off? Nancy burst out the front door, gripping her bag as a wave of dizziness took over. Nancy vomited all over her front lawn, and she was vaguely aware of Jonathan getting out of his car to approach her. She had seen more disgusting things than this, but yet, this made her vomit. Maybe it was because their mother had done it right there in their home. . .the place where her kids her slept. . .in the very bed that she had conceived her kids with her husband.

"Nancy?!" Jonathan asked.

She wiped her mouth and straightened up, grabbing onto Jonathan as tears welled up in her eyes. Karen walked out the door.

"Nancy - "

"I hate you."

Karen stepped back as if she had been slapped. Billy chose that moment to lean against the open front door wearing nothing but her father's pajama pants. It looked ridiculous. Her father was a lot taller than him, so he had to roll up the bottoms.

"Who's your daddy, Nancy?" Billy smirked.

It didn't take much for Jonathan to put two and two together. His stomach churned.

"Bring me to your house. Please," Nancy said.

He didn't have to argue with her. He helped Nancy to the car and quickly pulled out of the driveway. No one was home when he pulled up to his house, which he was thankful for because it meant that Nancy could cry as loudly as she wanted. . .scream as loudly as she wanted to. Thirty minutes later, Nancy had cried herself to sleep in his arms without saying a word. It was at that moment that he heard his mom walking through the doorway with Hop complaining loudly about El and Mike. For once, though, they weren't glued at the lips which he was thankful for. Jonathan pulled himself away carefully and walked into the kitchen. Whatever they were about to say, it stopped when they saw Jonathan.

"I thought you and Nancy were going to see a movie," Joyce said. "It's not over already, is it?"

"No, mom, we never went," Jonathan said seriously. "I was wondering if Nancy could stay here a few days."

"Now, Jonathan, I don't know if her mom would be okay with that," Joyce said.

"Fuck her mom!" Jonathan blurted, scowling.

"Jonathan!" She exclaimed, shocked.

"Did Karen do something to Nancy?" Hopper asked.

"Well. . . It's more like Nancy walked in on her mother doing something to someone else," Jonathan said.

"So, she walked in on her parents having sex? It happens," Hopper laughed.

"Hop. . .Ted's out of town," Joyce said.

"Goddamnit," Hop cursed and then his face softened. "Poor kid."

"It's worse. . ." Jonathan trailed off.

"How?" Joyce asked.

"She slept with Billy," Jonathan said.

"You mean, Billy Graham from the hardware store?" Hopper asked and then frowned. "Never thought he would be the kind of man to cheat on his wife, but then I didn't think Karen would cheat."

"No, not that Billy," Jonathan said.

"Billy Burke? That old firefighter?" Joyce asked. "I don't think he can walk. Let alone. . ."

"No, I wish," he muttered.

"You know, I think there's a Billy on the force. He just started. A bit young," Hopper said.

"Nope!"

"Okay, well, the only other person that I can think of is Billy Hargrove, and Karen wouldn't be that stupid," Joyce laughed, and then she saw Jonathan's face. She gasped. "No!"

"Oh! For fuck's sake!" Hopper exclaimed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Doesn't she know that he's the same age as her own fucking daughter?"

"I don't think she cares," Jonathan muttered. "Mom? Can Nancy stay?"

"Yeah, sure, is she here now?" Joyce asked.

"She's asleep in my room," Jonathan said.

"Okay, I'll call Karen, and then I'll call Sue," Joyce said. "You should go be with her."

Joyce hugged her son tightly and smiled at him softly. Jonathan shuffled off back to his room.

"Well, I'm going to get out of your hair," Hopper growled. "You have your hands full."

"Hopper! You can't beat up Karen!" Joyce yelled and paused. "But I can!"

A couple of days later, Nancy hasn't really said anything about it. She was still going to the paper and doing her job, but she was quiet throughout the day. Normally, she would complain about Tom and the others but not this time. Although there were times when he woke up and he found her talking with his mom at the kitchen table. It was a good thing. A mom was what she needed right now, and his mom was always good at making someone feel better. Mike and Holly were staying with them too, but they weren't sure why. Joyce had gone to his house and gathered some clothes for them. She had also gone to talk with Karen. When she came back, her face was sad but also angry. Jonathan didn't know what to say to Will or Mike whenever they asked what was going on.

"I have to tell Mike," Nancy spoke.

They had just gotten home from the paper. Nancy was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at him.

"Are you sure?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't want to keep lying to him, and he's just going to keep asking," Nancy said and stared at the spot on the floor.

"Nancy?" Jonathan asked.

She got up and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you for being here for me," Nancy said.

"Always," Jonathan said and kissed the top of her head.

"Mike in Will's room?" She asked.

"I think they're coloring with Holly," Jonathan said.

Nancy sighed and pulled back a little to look at his face.

"I hate her for doing this," Nancy said.

"Me too," Jonathan said.

"But she's my mom, and I still love her," Nancy said softly. "It's weird feeling both of that at the same time. I'm not ready to forgive yet, but. . .there's a part of me that wants to."

"Whenever you're ready. I'll be here even if you decide to never forgive her," Jonathan said and paused. "I think you will, though."

"Why?" Nancy asked.

"Because she's your mom, and you love her. And you forgave me after what I did," Jonathan said.

"Yours wasn't intentional. Besides, karma came in the form of Steve breaking your camera, and then you made up for it by risking your life against that demogorgon. You and Steve both," Nancy said. "He fucked up too with the Hawk and what he said. We forgave him too. I just need time with this because this feels bigger than all of that, but at the same time, it doesn't. I don't know! I just don't know!"

Jonathan kissed her forehead and rubbed her shoulders as she sighed.

"How about we take the kids out for ice cream after we tell Mike?" Jonathan asked.

"To Scoops Ahoy?" She asked.

"Yes, I know seeing Steve in his outfit will make you feel better," Jonathan said.

"What?!" Nancy exclaimed with wide eyes, and she blushed. "I don't - "

"Don't lie to me, Nance," he said in amusement.

Nancy deflated. Frowning, she collapsed back on the bed.

"Okay, so, maybe I still having feelings for Steve," Nancy said. "Shouldn't you be upset about that?"

"No, and there's a reason why, but I'm just not ready to say it outloud yet," he said.

"Okay?" She asked, and then she sighed. "I'm a terrible person! I'm just like my mom, and you're just okay with it. You're better than me."

"This isn't a contest, Nancy, and our situation is different. For one thing, we're all the same age and two, we're not married. Although this is a relationship. You haven't cheated on anyone yet. . .I mean, there was some overlap between me and Steve but that was a weird situation. Another thing is, we're young and we're going to fuck up but clearly having feelings for Steve was never a mistake and me getting into your head about it was the wrong thing to do because in reality, I also - " Jonathan cut himself off.

"What?" Nancy asked.

Jonathan opened his mouth again, trying to say the words that would reassure Nancy. His stomach fluttered like there were a thousand butterflies eating away at him.

"I, uh - "

Suddenly, Nancy's eyes twinkled with understanding. She got up and touched his cheek with her hand. Jonathan sighed and leaned into her touch.

"Whenever you're ready," Nancy said softly and kissed him.

"I love you," Jonathan said and then frowned. "I don't know why I'm having trouble saying this outloud."

"I love you too," Nancy said and hugged him tightly. "It's okay."

Nancy and Jonathan walked into Will's room. The three of them were lying on the floor, coloring and drawing. Will and Holly were teaming up together to tease Mike about his artwork.

"It's not that bad!" Mike exclaimed, but even he couldn't even stop the smile from spreading across his face.

Nancy really hated to interrupt this moment, but it needed to be said sooner rather than later.

"Hey, Holly, why don't you color in Jonathan's room? I need to talk to Mike. If you do that, we'll go out for ice cream," Nancy promised.

"Yay! Ice cream!" Holly shrieked, and she ran out of the room.

"Do I need to leave too?" Will asked.

"You might as well stay, Mike's probably going to tell you anyway, and it's better that you're here," Nancy said softly.

"Does this have anything to do with why we can't go home yet?" Mike asked.

"Yeah. . .the other day, Jonathan and I were supposed to go to the movies, but I had forgotten something at home. When I got there, I saw mom. . .I saw mom having sex with another guy," Nancy said.

"What?! Mom cheated on dad?!" Mike yelped and he jumped up. "No, there's no way. . .I mean, I know things have always been strained between them, but she would never do that!"

"I'm sorry, Mike," Will said softly as he stood up as well.

"I saw it," Nancy whispered, tears in her eyes.

"Do you know who she slept with?" Mike asked as he began pacing.

"Yeah," Nancy said.

"Who?" He asked.

"Well. . ."

"Nancy, who was it?" He asked.

He stopped pacing and turned to face her. Will was looking at her now. Nancy bit her lip.

"Billy Hargrove," Nancy whispered.

"No," Mike said, horrified. "There's no fucking way that mom would sleep with that racist abusive piece of shit!"

"I'm sorry," Nancy said.

"No way! You're lying! You're lying!" Mike yelled at her, his voice breaking.

"I'm not," she said.

Mike turned away from them all and placed his head in his hands. Will placed his hand on his shoulder, and Mike shrugged it off at first, before turning around to hug Will tightly. Mike's heavy, stuffy breathing slowly began to calm down, and he pulled away. He sniffed before turning towards his sister and hugging her. As Nancy held her brother, she realized she had to stand on her tiptoes to do it. When the hell did her brother get so tall? Mike pulled away.

"I'm sorry that you had to see it," Mike said.

"Me too," Nancy said.

"Ugh. . .Billy's the same age as you," Mike realized and screwed up his face.

"Yeah, I threw up on the lawn when I left," Nancy said.

"What are we going to do?" Mike asked.

"I don't know, but Jonathan and I figured that we would go get ice cream. Are you too upset to eat ice cream?" Nancy asked.

"I am never too upset to eat ice cream," Mike said.

"Are we all going?" Will asked.

"No, we all took votes and decided that everyone but you would go out and have fun," Mike told him, smirking.

"Asshole," Will said, his face splitting into a wide grin as he shoved him.

Everyone laughed as they walked out of the house, Holly wrapping herself around Mike's leg. He laughed and peeled her off his leg, holding her tightly.

"Are you upset, Mikey?" Holly asked.

"Better now that we're getting ice cream," Mike said and kissed her forehead.

When they walked into Scoops Ahoy, Jonathan and Nancy were both disappointed to find that Steve was in the back dealing with inventory. Robin was nice enough, though. Also, Max and Lucas spilled in not long after them. Mike led them to another booth to fill them in what happened. Max cursed more than Lucas, of course, and then tried to apologize for Billy. Mike wouldn't let her, though. It wasn't her fault that Billy was an asshole. After that, Holly moved from Nancy and Jonathan's table to Mike's, where she became enamored with Max's red hair. Nancy ate her ice cream as she played footsie with Jonathan under the table and jumped when Robin yelled.

"Hey, dingus! It's your break time. . .also, your children are here!" Robin yelled.

"Jesus, again? Weren't they just in here?" Steve asked from the back.

He complained loudly, but he hurried out of the back quite eagerly. His eyes lit up for a brief moment before hiding it behind annoyance. Nancy and Jonathan shared an amused look before turning back to Steve. If anyone was a cat in human form, it was Steve. It was a no and a sarcastic comment before he proceeded to do exactly what someone he cares for asked him to do. . .well, mostly. Nancy never blamed him for being scared of going up against the lab. She knew it wasn't just the monsters in the dark and the gateways that they came through, but people who were in positions of power with money much like Steve’s father, who could hurt whoever they want with it and cover it up. He never talked much about his father, but when he did, he always made him sound shady.

"Well, for whatever reason, your children either like this place or they really like you," Robin said.

Nancy watched as Steve took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and rolled his eyes. There was a hint of a smile on his face, though. It told Nancy that this kind of back and forth happened on a daily basis. She got up and leaned against the counter, watching his eyes light up at the sight of her.

"Well, I know one who is clearly in it for Steve’s hair care secret," Nancy teased.

"Nancy! Hey!" Steve exclaimed. "And Jonathan's here too!"

"Come join us," Nancy said.

"Okay," Steve said.

Nancy pushed him to slide in next to Jonathan before sitting down next to Steve. He was now wedged in between them. He didn't even question it when they started playing footsie under the table with him.

"So I'm guessing you guys didn't come here to get into the theater?" Steve asked.

"What? Why would you say that?" Jonathan asked.

"No reason," Steve scoffed and didn't meet his eyes.

"Well, we came here for the ice cream to cheer us up," Nancy said. "Seeing you here was just an added bonus."

Steve smiled for a moment and looked at Jonathan, who smiled shyly back at him. Steve turned back to Nancy with a frown in his face.

"Wait, what did you need cheering up for?" Steve asked.

"Well. . ."

And Nancy proceeded to tell him everything, from walking in on her mom to now. Steve sat in silence and stared at her.

"Fuck. . .Nance, I'm sorry. . .," Steve sighed and then scowled. "Fucking Billy of all people! I unfortunately know what it's like to walk in on one of your parents doing something like that."

"You do? Of course, you do! You told me!" Nancy exclaimed and slapped her forehead.

"I told you my father's a cheater. I didn't tell you that I was eight when I walked in on him. My mother was with me too," Steve said. "It wasn't the last time that we would walk in on him either. It happened a lot. It almost seemed like he was doing it on purpose. I think the fucker got off on it."

"Jesus," Jonathan muttered.

"Yeah," Steve said.

"It fucking sucks," Nancy said with tears in her eyes.

"It does," Steve said, taking her hand. "My father is different than your mother, though. I don't think she's the kind of person who would hold something like this over your heads or to intentionally hurt you. I think she just got lost, and I'm really hoping that this was a one-time thing."

"Why do you have so much faith in her?" Nancy said softly.

"I don't know. . .she's your mom," Steve said. "I didn't think she would ever act on something like this."

"What does that mean?" Nancy asked.

"Well, sometimes she could be a little flirty, but it was harmless," Steve shrugged.

"What the fuck? She flirted with you when we were together?" Nancy asked.

"I mean, it was just things about how handsome I am and how if she was several years younger, she would steal me from you," Steve shrugged. "It's just weird things older adults say."

"You know, she always hugged me a little too long, and she always said how lucky Nancy was. . .very, very lucky," Jonathan would say. "And she would stroke my collar whenever she straightened it. She'd say shit like to me, too."

"I can't believe it!" Nancy shrieked.

"Shit, Nance, I'm sorry - " Jonathan started to say.

"I can't believe that neither one of you told me that my mom is a pervert!" She yelled before storming out of the ice cream parlor. "I'm going to talk to mom."

"We should go and apologize," Jonathan frowned.

"Man, I don't think it's us she's mad at," Steve said.

"Still. . .should we buy her flowers?" Jonathan asked.

"Ooh, even better," Steve said. "She's a writer. We're going to have to make flowers."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Of course, Nancy wasn't mad at them. All of those situations sounded harmless. . .or did they? Was Steve wrong? Was this who her mother was? Maybe the thing with Billy was just a one-time thing. Nancy had ended up walking right out of the mall and marching right towards home, not caring about the glaring beating down upon her. By the time she got to the house, Nancy was drenched in sweat. She barged into the house to find her mother sitting at the kitchen table with Billy.

"Unbelievable," Nancy scoffed.

Billy stood up suddenly. The chair he was sitting in came crashing to the ground. He brushed past her.

"You got what you want, princess," Billy scoffed, tears in his eyes.

"Don't tell me you actually had feelings for her," Nancy said.

"And if I did?" Billy scowled.

"I wouldn't believe you even if you weren't an asshole," Nancy said. "I don't like you, but my mother was the adult in this situation, and I'm not saying that you can't make your own decisions but my mom was old enough to put her foot firmly down and told you no."

"You're acting like you're better than her when really you're no different. Keeping both Byers and Harrington on the leash. . .playing with both of them. . .what makes you better than me. . .better than your mom?" Billy asked as he got close to her, practically spitting in her face.

"It's different," Nancy said.

"How?" He asked, and she couldn't think of anything to say to that. "That's what I thought."

He stormed out of the house, the front door slamming loudly behind him. Nancy whirled around to face her mother. She looked ashamed and extremely sad. Her face was red and puffy. She had been crying. Was she sad that her weird twisted relationship with Billy was over, or was she upset that she hurt her children? That this would hurt Dad?

"Dad didn't deserve this," Nancy said.

"I know," Karen said softly.

"You know, there were so many better ways that you could have relived your youth. I mean, I hope that's what you were doing," Nancy said. "Because if it's not, then Mom, you have a bigger problem."

"I think that's what I was doing," Karen said. "I don't know."

"You had to use Billy to do it?" She asked.

"You don't understand, Nancy, I was so young when I married your father - " Karen started to explain.

"Sue and Charles were young when they got married, but Sue doesn't regret marrying him," Nancy snapped. "Nor does Sue want to fuck the guy who tried to kill her son."

"It worked for them!" Karen yelled. "I thought I was in love with your father. I thought I knew what I wanted then."

"What do you want now?" She asked.

"I don't know. I was flattered by his attention. . .it was thrilling, and I just stopped thinking," Karen said. "I thought he was what I wanted, but I know now that he was a mistake."

"Was Dad a mistake too? Were you ever in love with him?" Nancy asked.

"There were times when I got close," Karen said.

"When?"

"When you kids were born and he was in awe of you. He never wanted to let you guys go in the beginning. So, I decided that I wanted to go to work when you were born and he would stay home with the kids. He really loved you, but I also missed you, and he saw that. He went to work, and I stayed home with you then with Mike, then with Holly. He hates working so much and being away from us. He always loved me more than I loved him, and I didn't know how to deal with that. When he got too tired to show his affection with me, I didn't think I would miss it so much," Karen said.

"I do remember when he was around a lot. He was really great," Nancy said softly. "He wasn't afraid of letting me practice putting make up on him."

"He's a great dad," Karen said. "I'm just a shitty mom."

"You're not a shitty mom. A shitty wife, maybe," Nancy sniffed, with tears in her eyes. "Is this thing with Hargrove actually over?"

"Yes, it was a mistake," Karen said. "I never should have started it."

"No, you shouldn't have," Nancy said. "I just don't get Billy of all people. He's the same age as me, mom! Not only that, he tried to kill Lucas and nearly killed Steve!"

"He told me about that. He was looking for his sister," Karen said.

A white fury filled Nancy. . .just as she was close to maybe forgiving her mom. She wasn't there for the aftermath of Billy. Nancy and Jonathan had come in to check on the kids while Joyce had gone with Will to the hospital. The kids were conversing about what to do with Billy while Steve sat on the couch, barely conscious. He had looked so bad, especially when he was struggling to breathe. Nancy and Jonathan had taken care of him and managed to convince him to go to the doctor just as Hopper walked through the door. He had taken care of Billy while they had taken Steve to the hospital. It was so bad that Steve had passed out again, and it had scared the shit out of Nancy. Jonathan, too. Nothing justified the damage that Billy had done to Steve. . .whether or not he cared what happened to Max. Nancy doubted he cared about her at all.

"I didn't think you were stupid enough to fall for his bullshit. Sleeping with him for his looks. . .as shallow as it is. . . I get, even if you can somehow manage to get past his ugly behavior which I can't," Nancy said.

Of the things that Steve and Jonathan had done, they would never do what Billy had done. They would never harm a child, and the thing that's also drastically different from Billy was how much they were both willing to learn from their mistakes. Despite both of their awful fathers, Steve and Jonathan had both managed to not continue their circle of abuse. It was the one thing that made her realize that her situation was different from her mother's and thankfully so. She would never fall for someone like Billy Hargrove.

"You don't understand, Nancy," Karen said.

"I don't understand?! You don't understand!" Nancy exclaimed and then paused as she looked at her mother. "Oh my God, are you in love with him?"

"You can't help who you fall for," Karen said softly. "You know that."

"Are you talking about Jonathan?" Nancy asked. "I can't believe you're throwing that in my face."

"It wasn't my intention to hurt Ted or to fall for Billy, just like it wasn't your intention to hurt Steve and fall for Jonathan," Karen said.

Like we're in love?

Bullshit.

Tell me.

What?

That you love me!

She remembered the way she laughed because, didn't he know? Shouldn't he just know how much she loved him? But she had also loved Jonathan. Nancy was angry. Technically, what Karen had said was right. She never meant to hurt Steve. Hopefully, that will be amended soon if Steve had the same feelings that Jonathan did. It should have happened back then. . .if she had just talked about how much she wanted both of them. In that way, she was like her mother. She had been too afraid to talk about her feelings.

"You hit on my boyfriends!" Nancy blurted out.

A feeling of excitement shot through her as she called them both of her boyfriends, even if it was only for that moment.

"Steve and Jonathan?! I would never! I mean, sure, I thought they were handsome, but I would never do that to you," Karen said.

"Why don't I believe you?" She asked.

She wondered if maybe they had been just thoughts that her mother never would have acted upon. Maybe that's why she did what she did with Billy. She spent so long keeping everything in and trying to be perfect. Suddenly, the sound of the front door startled the two women, and they both heard Ted come in. They heard the loud thumping sound of him throwing his suitcase down, and then he appeared in the kitchen.

"I couldn't stay there another day with those assholes. I told them I was going home to my family whether they liked it or not," Ted said with a heavy sigh, and then he looked at them. "Okay, usually it's hard for me to read a room, but it seems like you guys are upset. Did I miss anything?"

Suddenly, Nancy was throwing herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. They weren't normally huggers, but this called for a special occasion. Nancy hadn't realized how much she had taken her dad for granted or how much she really didn't know about him. How hard did he work just so he could come to them. . .only to be exhausted by the time he did? How many times did he enjoy the sounds of Nancy and Mike arguing or Holly curling up against him to tell him all about a story she had made up? How many times did he fall asleep comforted by the sounds of his family and not tell anyone? Nancy vaguely remembered the times she had a nightmare and the couple of times that she felt a comforting hand in the darkness on the back of her head, like he was doing now. She recalled a deep voice, reassuring her that she was okay and that she was safe. Did he get up in the middle of the night and hear her in distress? How many times did he do that? As Karen watched them, she burst into tears. Because of her own unhappiness had she unknowingly projected it onto her own kids and put a wall up between them and their father? Nancy might have been wrong. Not only was she a shitty wife, but she was a shitty mom, too.

"I missed you," Nancy said and she really did.

"Oh, I missed you too. I would have thought people would have been glad I was away," Ted said as he tried to pull off his self depreciation as a casual joke.

"No, Daddy, of course not," Nancy said and pulled away. "We love you."

"What's going on? Why is your mother crying?" Ted asked and moved over to her. "Karen?"

"Are you going to tell him or should I?" Nancy asked Karen.

Meanwhile, Jonathan had taken the kids back to his house after Holly had fallen asleep. He had waited a long time for Nancy to call and say that everything was alright, but she had taken too long. She hadn't even come back even when Mom came home from work.

"Where's Nancy?" Joyce had asked.

"She, uh, went to talk to her mother," Jonathan said.

"She didn't want you to go with her?" Joyce asked.

"Well, she was kind of mad at me and Steve. I don't think she wanted us to follow her," Jonathan said. "I'm supposed to go over to Steve’s house later to make flowers. . . Whatever that means."

"What happened?" Joyce asked.

"We kind of implied that Billy not might have been the only one that Karen had hit on. I don't think she was comforted when we said that we didn't think she was ever going to act on what she said or did," Jonathan said.

"Who else did she hit on?" Joyce asked, and he paused. "Jonathan?"

Just as he was about to say something, the front door opened, and Nancy came into the kitchen with tears in her eyes.

"I fought with my mom just as my dad came home early. My mom told him what happened. They fought about it, but they've decided to get a divorce. Now they're arguing about who should move out. Dad volunteered to do it but mom said she should because she's the one who fucked up. I had to get out of there," Nancy sniffled.

"Oh, sweetheart," Joyce said softly.

Nancy cried and hugged Jonathan tightly while Joyce rubbed her back soothingly. After a while, Nancy pulled back and smiled gratefully at them.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said softly.

"It's been a long time coming," Nancy said. "I just didn't expect it to come like this."

"You look exhausted. Do you want to go lay down?" Joyce asked softly.

"Yeah. Jonathan?" Nancy asked.

"You don't even have to ask," he said softly. "After our nap, do you feel like going over to Steve's? I sort of told him that I would go over there and that we would make flowers to make it up to you."

"You guys don't have to do that," Nancy said softly. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Well, we want to do something nice for you," Jonathan said. "I told him to keep the uniform on too."

"That's really nice," Nancy laughed. "And completely unselfish of you."

"What are you talking about? There's nothing at all in it for me," Jonathan teased, flashing her his dimples.

Nancy laughed as she fell into bed with him, curling up on top of him.

"I love you," she whispered, promising herself that she would tell him more and mean it.

After she had a much needed nap, Nancy got up with Jonathan. She fixed her hair and makeup before threatening Jonathan with her eyeliner. She chased him around the room before trapping him on the bed and holding it over his eye. They were both laughing, and she could feel his laughter through her legs that were straddling his stomach.

"Please?" Nancy pouted.

"Fine," Jonathan laughed.

She knew why he was saying yes, but Nancy would happily take advantage of that, and so, she did. She giggled as she put eyeliner, blush, and lipstick on him. Nancy really couldn't believe that he was letting her do this. Once she finished, she sat back to admire her work. He looked pretty, but that was true either way. She stared at him, and her heart warmed at the sight. He would be beautiful to her no matter what gender he was. His heart had always called out to her, just like Steve’s had. As she thought about it, it really was the same with Steve, too, or with anyone. Nancy leaned down to kiss Jonathan, but he stopped her with a grin.

"Nancy, you're going to ruin my pretty makeup," Jonathan said.

"I'm going to ruin you," Nancy said and attached her lips to his neck.

"We do not have time for this," he said.

"Fine," she said and playfully rolled her eyes as she got off of him. "You going to take that off?"

"And ruin all that work you did to make me look pretty?" Jonathan asked.

"Just say you like it," she said teasingly. "And for the record, you're always pretty."

They walked out of Jonathan's room, giggling and into the kitchen where Joyce sat with the kids.

"We're going to Steve’s," Nancy announced.

"Why is Jonathan wearing makeup?" Mike asked.

"Because he loves me," Nancy beamed and Joyce laughed.

"You look beautiful, Jonathan," she grinned. "Have fun, you two."

"You look like a pretty princess, Jon!" Holly exclaimed happily.

"Thank you, Holly," Jonathan said in amusement as everyone laughed.

"Can we have a tea party later?" Holly asked.

"Absolutely," Jonathan laughed.

"And after can we play Reporter? I port like Nance, and you can be my sistant?" Holly asked.

"Yeah, whatever you want," Jonathan said and kissed the top of her head.

Nancy smiled softly at him as they said goodbye to everyone else. They sat in comfortable silence all the way over to Steve’s house. When they did arrive and Steve opened the door, wearing his Scoops outfit. He looked surprised to see Nancy. Jonathan had forgotten to call ahead. Steve’s eyes moved from Nancy to Jonathan. Steve smirked.

"You look pretty, Jonathan," he said.

"You're just saying that because I'm wearing makeup," Jonathan replied, his facing heating up.

"Yeah, no, I always think you're pretty," Steve scoffed. "Come on in."

Jonathan touched his shoulder gently on the way past to thank him silently. He squeezed it and let go. Jonathan and Nancy followed Steve into the kitchen, where there were stacks of paper waiting for them. There were also stacks of snacks.

"So, are we making flowers with paper or with food?" Nancy asked in amusement.

"With paper because you're a writer," Steve said.

"Thank you, Steve," Nancy said.

"It's not a problem," Steve said. "I just wanted to do something to make you feel better. I'm sorry I never told you about what your mother told me when we were together."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Nancy said. "It was my mother who I was mad at."

"I figured, but still, you're upset, and I wanted to do something," Steve said.

"You're very sweet," Nancy said and squeezed his shoulder in the same way that Jonathan did. "So, how many are we going to make?"

"As many as you want to," Steve said as he sat down to show them how to make them.

"How do you know how to make these?" Jonathan asked.

"I got bored in class one day. We were reading To Kill a Mockingbird, which I've already read," Steve said. "I was playing around with a sheet of paper, and then it just sort of happened."

"You already read the book?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, I enjoy reading every now and then," Steve shrugged.

"I didn't mean to sound so surprised," Jonathan said.

"If that surprises you, you should see him in his glasses," Nancy said.

"Nance!"

"Okay, I'm going to have to see that," Jonathan said and widened his eyes. "Please?"

"Put those eyes away, I'll have to take out my contacts," Steve said and left the room.

Steve came back wearing a pair of round thin gold frames. Jonathan felt his chest grow warm, and he blinked rapidly.

"Sexy," Jonathan blurted out, and he sliced his finger on a sheet of paper. "Fuck! Paper cut!"

Steve pulled a first aid kit out of one of the cabinets and grabbed his hand. He held eye contact with Jonathan as he stopped the bleeding and put medicine on the cut. After he wrapped it, he placed a kiss on the band-aid.

"Better?" Steve asked.

"Better," Jonathan gulped.

"You really think so?" Steve asked, blushing suddenly. "The glasses?"

"Yeah, definitely," Jonathan said. "You should wear them all the time."

Nancy smiled at both of them. Steve had always been insecure about his glasses, despite what she told him, and that was clearly still the case.

"I don't know," Steve shrugged.

"Do I have to get on my knees and beg?" Jonathan laughed, and then he realized what he said. "I mean . . . You know these paper flowers aren't going to make themselves. . .shut up, Nancy."

It only made her laugh harder, and for Steve’s smirk to widen. Jonathan flicked on the stereo that was on the counter, hoping it would drown out their amusement. He was having a hard time hiding his own, though. Steve wedged himself in between them and started making more flowers. Steve hummed along to the music and swayed his hips. Nancy and Jonathan glanced at him every so often, smiling. She really was enjoying making these flowers. The company certainly helped. The three of them made plenty of flowers, but they didn't want to stop as the music flowed through them. Nancy knew they were done, however, when a Bob Seger song came on. Steve immediately dropped his unfinished flower and picked up a finished one. He put it behind his ear and began to sing. Jonathan was surprised when Steve slipped his hand into his and pulled him into his arms to dance. Jonathan was stunned at first and wasn't sure what to do, so he just let Steve lead the way. Eventually, he started laughing when Steve had them dance wildly about the kitchen.

"Still like that old-time rock 'n' roll! That kind of music just soothes the soul! I reminisce about the days of old! With that old-time rock 'n' roll!" Steve sang.

Jonathan and Nancy laughed harder when Steve dipped him. The last few days had been nothing but heartache for Nancy, and she felt lighter than ever as she watched her boys dance around the kitchen. Jonathan eventually pulled away, and so, Steve turned on Nancy. She laughed and shook her head.

"No, absolutely not!" Nancy giggled.

She didn't stop him, however, when he pulled her into his arms. She tilted her head back and smiled, letting some of the things that had burdened her fade away. She wasn't pretending that things weren't complicated, just letting go of some of the things that she couldn't change, the things she didn't have any control over. Life was short, and she wanted to live while she could. The song changed into a slow one, and as Steve started to pull away, she pulled him back.

"I'm sorry," Nancy said.

"For what?" Steve asked softly.

"You deserved an apology back then for what happened. You didn't deserve that. I should have talked to you about how I was feeling," Nancy said. "I just didn't know how. I should have told you that you weren't a shitty boyfriend."

"I wasn't exactly good at talking about how I was feeling either," Steve said.

"Maybe we were both just stuck in a shitty situation," Nancy said.

"It's certainly a lot for people to handle, let alone teenagers, isn't it?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I think the fact that we managed to get this far is a miracle," Nancy snorted.

"On top of having screwed up parents too," Steve said.

Nancy used to think that her and Steve were drastically different people. He was a jock and she was a nerd, but there was a lot more there, wasn't it? Both of their parents lacked proper communication, one of their parents had an affair, and their distance from each other had unknowingly caused a strain on their children. There's nothing Steve and Nancy wouldn't do for their little found family. The difference between their parents, though, is that Nancy had faith that her parents, while not together, would still come through this on top as a family. Just because you're divorced doesn't mean you're still not family. . .right? Nancy hoped that was the case. She could see that Steve had the same hope for his own mother, maybe not his dad, but for whatever reason, Nancy was glad that she had someone there who understood. Even Jonathan understood, even though he lost faith in his father a long time ago. She was glad they were both there.

"Thank you," Nancy said softly and kissed his cheek.

"For what?" Steve asked.

"For everything," she said softly.

Jonathan had been watching them, his heart growing with fondness for the both of them. Nancy wrapped her arms around Steve before yanking Jonathan into the hug as well. He laughed. He had a lot to be grateful to Steve for as well. Jonathan moved to kiss Steve’s cheek like Nancy did, but of course, Steve had to move his head at that exact moment. Jonathan and Steve's lips bumped together. They both froze for a moment before Steve started to move his lips against Jonathan's. He didn't waste a second returning the kiss. His lips were perfectly plump, and they felt just as right as Nancy's did. Their arms were still wrapped around Nancy as they kissed, and a jolt of arousal shot through Jonathan when she made a soft moan at the sight of them. The sound had spurred Steve on as well because he deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue inside Jonathan's mouth. This time, it was Steve and Jonathan who were moaning as well as they gasped eagerly into each other's mouths. They pulled away at the same time, breathing heavily.

"That was . . . ," Steve trailed off.

"Great!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Yeah," they agreed.

Jonathan stared at Steve, the sight of Jonathan's lipstick smeared on his face. Now he knew why some people wore lipstick. The sight of Steve’s swollen lips with something Jonathan had worn spread across them was definitely doing something to him. Steve looked throughly kissed, and it was because of Jonathan. It had done something for Nancy too because a moment later, she pulled Steve in for a kiss. They were both eager, but while Steve went in soft, Nancy went in aggressively. It wasn't like before he saw them kissing in the hallways at school. There was no jealousy this time. Maybe the jealousy back then hadn't been because Jonathan wanted to be in Steve's place, but because he had wanted to be with both of them. Nancy pulled away.

"I still - I've always loved you, Steve," Nancy said softly. "I just never knew how to tell you that I loved Jonathan too."

"I still love you," Steve said and paused. "Both of you."

The three of them held each other in a comfortable silence. Nancy swallowed.

"Can we stay?" Nancy blurted out and looked at Jonathan. "Do you want to?"

"If Steve wants us too," Jonathan said, swallowing thickly.

"Please, stay."

The next day, Jonathan brought some of the flowers home for Joyce, Holly, Will, and Mike after dropping Nancy off at her house. She wanted to see how her parents were doing. When Nancy walked in with a paper flower in her hand, she found her father sitting at the kitchen table. His glasses were off, and his face was in his hands.

"Dad?" Nancy asked softly.

Ted looked up. His eyes were puffy and red. Nancy hated how sad he looked.

"Was there anything that I could have done differently?" He asked.

"I think you could have tried your best, and it still wouldn't have been enough. She may not have known what she wanted, but I think she always knew that she didn't want you . . . I'm sorry, that was harsh," Nancy said.

"No, it's the truth," Ted said. "I didn't do my best."

"Maybe, but I think it might because you both knew on some level that it was over. I think you might have been waiting for her to leave, and she was waiting for you to tell her to go. As unhappy as she was, you were safe for her. . . Comfortable, and she had been afraid of stepping outside her comfort zone. . .the both of you, I think," Nancy said softly.

"I got so lucky with Karen," Ted said. "I never would have found someone like her. She's stronger than I ever was."

"Not strong enough to tell you the truth. You both deserve to be with people who are actually in love with you. . .someone appropriate, that is," Nancy said, and Ted laughed.

"Oh God, why am I laughing?" He asked.

"Because sometimes that's the only thing you can do," Nancy said.

"You really believe that there's someone out there for us. . .you don't think it's too late?" Ted asked.

"It's never too late to build something new," Nancy said and placed a paper flower in front of him.

"That's pretty," Ted sniffed.

"Steve helped me and Jonathan make it," she said.

"Steve back in the picture?" Ted asked.

"Yeah, Jonathan still is too," she admitted.

"Something new, huh?" He asked. "They make you happy?"

"Yes," she grinned.

"Good," he said with a smile. "And this is something you know you want?"

"More than anything," she said.

"Okay. . .so, show me how to make these flowers," Ted said.

"Promise me one thing," she said.

"Anything," he swore.

"Everyone in this family has just awful communication skills. . . Promise we'll work on them together?" Nancy asked.

"Promise," he chuckled and paused. "You know, just because we're no longer together, your mother will always be a part of my life even if you don't want her to be. I hope that's okay."

"More than okay. We still want her to be a part of our lives, too," Nancy said softly.

"Good," Ted said and wiped his eyes before putting on his glasses.

They worked in silence as Nancy made another paper flower with her father. She smiled when an idea hit her.

"You know, Claudia Henderson is still single," Nancy grinned.

"Claudia?" Ted asked and paused. "She is cute. . .but I don't know, I never know what might spill out of my mouth. I couldn't do that to her."

"If she can handle Dustin at his worst, then she can handle you," she teased.

"True," Ted said.

"Besides, worst things have come out of Mike's mouth," Nancy pointed out. "I think he gets that from you."

"Well, that's unfortunate," Ted said dryly, and Nancy laughed.

"Plus, Claudia's an animal lover too," Nancy said.

"A boy owns one hedgehog as a kid," Ted said with a shake of his head.

"Please, you know you would have tons of animals if it hadn't been for Mom's allergies," Nancy said.

"Maybe," Ted said, and Nancy laughed. "I just don't think I'm ready for that, Nance."

"Whenever you're ready, I'll support you," Nancy said softly.

A few days went by, and the Wheeler kids were back in their home. Karen had moved out after wearing Ted down. Nancy was awkwardly talking to her mother, but Mike had refused to do so. For him, it was hard, Karen had slept with a man who had hurt his friends. Now that Max was a part of their group, he did it out of loyalty to her, too. Nancy wasn't going to pressure him into talking to her. He would talk to their mother when he was ready for it. Holly didn't know exactly what her mother did, but she knew enough, and like some kids, she was quick to forgive. Nancy wished it was that easy for her and Mike. Meanwhile, the kids were learning more about their father than they ever did, and he was spending less time in that chair. A weight he never knew had been carrying had been lifted off of him. Nancy realized he had always been a good dad. Perfect? Certainly not.

More days passed as June started to turn into July. Word had quickly spread about Karen's affair with Billy, word that Nancy was sure had been spread by the young man himself. Karen had quickly become the town pariah. It was what had started to thaw the ice with Mike, and he had quickly set out to defend their mother even if he was still a bit chilly with her. Meanwhile, Ted had garnered some sympathy with the ladies, and their attention had made him quit uncomfortable. It had amused Nancy and Mike to no end until Ted encroached on his territory.

"No, dad! You can't hide out in the basement!" Mike exclaimed.

"Well, why the hell not?" Ted asked. "I'm just following your example, son."

"Because. . .El's here!" Mike hissed.

Meanwhile, El was giggling at her boyfriend's expense.

"Dustin is right. He is funny," El said.

The doorbell upstairs continued to ring. Ted hid by the stairs.

"Oh God," Ted mumbled, and Mike couldn't help but laugh at him. "It's going to be another goddamn casserole. Why is it always a casserole?"

"You're such a chicken shit, dad," Mike said.

"Hey, you watch your mouth," Ted said. "I mean, you're right, but still. . ."

Ted had eventually put on his big boy pants and told everyone off, leaving a sign on his front door as well. Despite the fact that he and Karen were still getting divorced, both of them were going to therapy together. They wanted some sort of relationship to come out of this even if it wasn't going to be romantic. Because of the kids, they were always going to be connected. Ted was slowly finding that this relationship was becoming better than their other one ever was, even if he was a little sad that it could never be romantic. He was happy that Karen wanted to be a part of his life still, and that was making it easier to let go of their former relationship.

When Nancy wasn't trying to figure out a balance to their new family dynamic, she was spending time working on the paper and spending time with her boyfriends. Ted had casually mentioned that she could invite them over one night for dinner, and Nancy had gladly taken him up on his offer. She enjoyed the look on Mike's face when she told him she was dating both Steve and Jonathan.

"You know, I just realized that Dustin doesn't know about any of this," Mike said.

"He's certainly in for it when he gets back from camp," Steve said and laughed with Mike.

"Too bad Dad's not ready to date. Can you imagine Dustin's expression if he came back and our dad was dating his mom?" Mike snickered.

"Michael," Ted said softly, but he was smiling.

"Sorry, Dad," Mike said, the corners of his mouth turning up.

Nancy watched throughout the dinner as Steve and Jonathan interacted with her family. Steve happily chatted with her dad about sports while Jonathan talked with him about photography and music. Steve also ended up talking with Ted about his love of hedgehogs as well, which surprised Nancy. That was something she hadn't known about Steve. She also didn't know he liked comic books, something that surprised both Mike and Jonathan as well. Of course, Holly had them both wrapped around her finger and dragged them off to play Reporter Princess as she so named the game. It left Mike, Nancy, and Ted to clean up the kitchen.

"I'm proud of both of you," Ted spoke up as they washed dishes. "You're handling all of this so well."

"I could be better," Mike muttered.

"You'll get there when you're ready," Ted said.

"I'm just so angry all of the time," Mike muttered, tears in his eyes.

"Well, that's understandable in a situation like this," Nancy said. "Just don't try to shove it down or pretend that it doesn't exist."

"And when you're ready, talk about it. I'll try my hardest to do my best. This whole talking thing isn't my strong suit either," Ted said awkwardly. "I'm working on it."

Nancy and Mike shared a look. There was one thing that they weren't telling their father. . .the things they wished they could tell. . .if only he knew.

"We're proud of you too, dad," Nancy said sincerely.

A few days later, they were all supposed to go to the fair as a family. . .Ted, Karen, Holly, and Mike. Nancy was going to meet up with them with Steve and Jonathan. It was supposed to be the thing that would slowly begin their healing process, but the other kids never showed up. Ted, Karen, and Holly had waited. They waited some more until finally the time for the fair had ended. Ted and Karen paced, waiting by the phone as Holly drifted off to sleep, blissfully unaware of what was going on. She was also very disappointed that she didn't get to go to the fair. Karen ended up calling the police but the only answer she got was that they were looking into it. Neither one of them got sleep that night. The next morning, both Karen and Ted were watching the news, discovering that Starcourt Mall had burned down.

"Oh God! They were both so mad at me. . .what if they were caught up in the mall. . .what if they can't identify the bodies?!" Karen exclaimed. "They can't be dead. . .I need to make this right, Ted."

"Alright, get your coat. We're going to Starcourt and searching for our goddamn kids," Ted had said.

"What about Holly?" Karen asked.

"We'll drop her off at Claudia's," Ted said.

"Claudia! I didn't think to call her!" Karen exclaimed.

"I don't think any of us were thinking straight last night to call anyone but the police," Ted muttered.

Karen had called Claudia only to find that Dustin was missing too and that she had called the Sinclairs only to find out that Lucas was missing along with Dustin. Karen had hung up and burst into tears. Ted hesitated before putting his arms awkwardly around his soon to be ex-wife.

"It's okay, Karen," Ted said. "We're going to bring them home."

They were just about to walk out the door when the phone rang. Karen had practically dove for it and picked it up. She burst into tears again when she heard her daughter's voice.

"Mommy?" Nancy sobbed.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Nancy and Jonathan were waiting to see their boyfriend. Steve had been admitted almost immediately when they came in, along with Robin. They had both fallen asleep waiting to see him after his wounds had been tended to. Now they were awake, and Nancy was thinking about how Hopper was dead as well as Billy. She hated Billy for everything that he was and everything that he did, but she hadn't wanted him dead even right after she found him in bed with her mother. Her mom. . . She could have been one of the Mind Flayer's victims if Flayed Billy had been able to go after her. She could be dead now, and suddenly, everything was put into perceptive. She wondered if Mike was thinking the same thing. He was currently with El as they looked at her leg, checking to make sure there wasn't any permanent damage. Nancy had called their mother and plopped back down to think. She was so tired.

"Nance?" Jonathan asked and startled her out of her thoughts. "We can go see Steve now."

When did someone stop by to talk to them? Nancy didn't really care. She followed Jonathan to their boyfriend's room. They had both moved as quickly as they could. Jonathan was also injured, and Nancy's body was sore from what they endured. It wasn't really all that fast. They arrived in Steve's room to find him sitting up in bed and looking rather bored. His face lit up at the sight of them. His hazel eyes sparkled, and he smiled so wide that he was showing all of his teeth. Even with his face bruised and beaten, Steve was so unbelievably beautiful and very much alive. Nancy crawled into bed with him and peppered his faces with kisses before pressing her lips to his gently. She straddled Steve’s waist and moved back to let Jonathan lean over Steve to kiss him as well. It was at that moment that Robin came in.

"Can you believe they wanted us in separate rooms? Don't worry, I fixed it. I flashed so many people my ass - woah!" Robin yelled, and Jonathan pulled away quickly. "You left something out."

"Well, Dustin burst in before I could you that I'm still in love with Nancy and also very much in love Jonathan!" Steve exclaimed.

"Well, I guess you're forgiven," Robin said.

Nancy laughed as she slipped off of Steve and the bed.

"Nothing to worry about, I hope?" Nancy asked teasingly.

"You shouldn't, I'm a huge lesbian," Robin said as she plopped onto the empty bed and flashed them a grin. "Not a straight person in this room."

"Well, I don't know about me, but I suppose I never did care about gender," Nancy said thoughtfully.

"Well, even if you were strictly into dudes, you'd still be queer I think, because you're in a relationship that conservatives hellbent on forced conformity would definitely frown against, especially with your boyfriends being in a relationship with each other. So, yeah, even if you only like men, which it sounds like you are open to liking women as well, your relationship is still queer," Robin said as she thought about it. "Although, I'm only familiar with the ways of lesbianism. I am not an all-knowing queer god."

"That would be cool though if you were," Steve said, snapping his fingers at her.

"It would," Robin said.

Nancy was about to ask Robin some questions when her parents and sister came rushing into the room. Nancy moved immediately toward her mother, throwing her arms around her and hugging her tightly. She had never seemed more relieved to see her. Suddenly, what happened didn't seem to matter as much right at this moment. She was just grateful that her mother was alive and she was here.

"Mommy," Nancy sobbed.

As she was hugging her mother, she felt a comforting hand on the back of her head and her father sniffling behind her. Suddenly, she saw Mike run into the room, breathing heavily.

"I thought I saw mom and dad," Mike said.

"Mike," Karen said, relieved to see him.

"I'm sorry, I know I've been an ass . . . " Mike said.

"You had every right to be upset. I'm so sorry for all of it," Karen said softly. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I'm glad you're okay," Mike said, his voice breaking. "Hopper, he died. He saved us. He saved us, mom."

"Oh honey," Karen said.

Mike was pulled into the hug with Karen and Nancy while Holly wrapped herself around his leg. Ted, as usual, was awkward about hugging, but he put his arms around his family anyway. Family, Nancy thought with a silent laugh. There was no such as a thing as a perfect family. Realistically, families were messy and complicated, but they were also there when you needed them. When you were in a crisis, they were there to drop everything to be someone you could depend on even after they let you down. Maybe things couldn't be the same as they were before, but maybe things would be better now that Ted and Karen were more honest with each other. With her boyfriends there with her and wrapped in the arms of her family, as uncomfortable as it was, Nancy felt like she could get through this. . .could get through anything.

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

2023 Writing Cross Stitch Round Up

Thank you for tagging me @ladytessa74 and @alrightbuckaroo

I'm pretty proud of my cross stitch journey this year! 20 finished pieces since April!

April

911 Lone Star- my first Lone Star cross stitch project, created with an image of the Lone Star logo and a free pattern generator I found online. It had been a couple years since I had done any cross stitching. Working on this one was a bit of a painful week because it involved the reestablishment of my stitching calluses on my fingers.

I'm a fireman, our codes are like...fire!- The first in a series where I took a quote from the show and went on Etsy to find a pattern for some kind of image that I thought worked well with the quote. At this point, I didn't have the confidence (or the software) to come up with my own more complex patterns.

Sure, ma'am, but just so you know, I am a homosexual-Still one of my favorites. However, it was early in my cross stitching journey, so when I look at it, a few major mistakes jump out at me. This is such an excellent quote that I think I want to do an improved version at some point.

Is the lizard back?-I did this one in honor of Lou II after I found a perfect bearded dragon pattern available on Etsy.

Firefighters, you really are a smug bunch-I really like this one. I found a firetruck pattern on Etsy and modified it a bit, including changing the number on it to 126.

May

I was peckish and I wanted pudding- This is a simple one, but I created the pattern myself. From the second I heard this line, I knew it had to be a cross stitch.

It absolutely wrecks people- Cow eyes. I like this one except for the fact that I took a horrible picture of it. I think I finished it at night and was so excited to post that I couldn't wait for daylight to get a brighter picture. It's always a struggle to get a picture that's bright enough but also doesn't have the shadow of my phone across it. Luckily, since then I've discovered the perfect place in my house to take cross stitch pictures, even at night!

Did you know that honeybees pollinate a third of our food supply?- I was originally going to have four little honeybees on this one, but the finale had just aired and I was dying to get going on my planned Tarlos vows project, so it ended up just getting one bee.

June

Working on stitching the vows.

July

Tarlos wedding vows- It took 7 weeks and a comically large hoop, but I got it done. I mapped out this pattern before I had pattern making software meaning I did it by hand with pencil and paper. Plotting out the words, making sure everything was centered, making sure it would all fit, etc was quite an ordeal!

Tarlos proposal- This was the first pattern I created with my new pattern making software and it's still one of my favorites. It's love ❤️

126 Firehouse- I was incredibly proud of myself for this one. It was the most elaborate pattern I had created on my own up until that point.

August

Typical TK- I really like this one but I didn't include the full quote for simplicity's sake (leaving out the "of course") and I kind of regret that now.

We make a pretty good team-This one did not turn out the way I saw it in my head, so there were moments that I kind of hated it. Ultimately, I'm ok with it.

September

Working on my elaborate tarloft dining area project.

October

You Have All of Me, Carlos-This is without a doubt my favorite thing I've ever made. It took about 6 weeks and is the most elaborate pattern I've created to date.

November

This is real- A quote from @ladytessa74's incredible fic for her birthday.

Tyler Kennedy Strand-My best attempt at capturing the essence of TK.

Lone Star Christmas Tree Ornaments-4 stitched ornaments for my Lone Star-themed Christmas tree.

Well, he's a wise ass- A piece in honor of my favorite wise ass.

Season 1 Tarlos- The first in my cute little Tarlos series. I love tiny TK and Carlos very much.

December

Season 2 Tarlos-Cute little Tarlos part 2.

I will have at least one more (and maybe two) still this month. Season 3 Tarlos will definitely be finished before the month is over, and depending on how much stitching time I have, I may even get Season 4 done.

No pressure tagging @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @birdclowns @paperstorm @carlos-in-glasses @lemonlyman-dotcom @strandnreyes @fitzherbertssmolder @reasonandfaithinharmony (gif round up?)

[m1edemafc]

blog navigation!

heya, thanks for stopping by my blog! i mostly made this because interacting on ao3 is a bit of a pain sometimes, and it's easier for me to take prompts/requests/questions on tumblr.

i'm so happy to take requests, so feel free to drop any prompts or requests! i'm not inherently opposed to writing anything, but forewarning, i hate every piece of smut i've ever written so it's highly unlikely that i'll publish anything with substantial smut. not ruling it out completely but it's just ~very~ unlikely.

these are my current works, you can find them all on ao3! unless it's a headcannon, my work will only ever be published on ao3. sorry to all the tumblr fic readers out there, but i promise ao3 is fairly easy to navigate even as a guest.

masterlist:

lucy bronze/ona battle

all these people think love's for show, but i'd die for you in secret

tags: established relationship, fluff, domestic fluff, karaoke

status: work in progress, eight chapters

jana fernández/jill roord

my heart has been split open (you see everything i'm hoping)

tags: hurt/comfort, acl injury, angst, fluff

status: coming soon, one shot

keira walsh/laura feiersinger

i just want to know you better (know you better now)

tags: 5+1 things, situationship, getting together, kind of a slow burn?

status: complete, one shot

mapi león/ingrid engen

let our hearts be the only sound

tags: established relationship, proposal, fluff

status: complete, one shot

alexia putellas/jenni hermoso

you'll find that you were never not mine

series: inked on my soul

tags: alternate universe, tattoo artist jenni, footballer alexia, getting back together, jealousy 

status: complete, one shot

fc barcelona femení

bilbao is one hell of a drug

tags: uefa womens champions league, winning

status: complete, seven chapters

alessia russo/leah williamson

hearts collide, souls intertwine

series: country girls universe

tags: kid fic, forced roommates, getting together, potential slow burn (i haven't decided)

status: coming soon

the way the moonlight dances in your eyes

series: country girls universe

tags: kidfic, fluff, literally just fluff, new kit pics!!

status: one shot, complete

caroline graham hansen/marta torrejón

forever is in your eyes

tags: kid fic, post retirement, marriage, domestic fluff

status: coming soon, one shot collection

a little about me:

i'm a 23 year old gemini vegetarian from australia! i've been an arsenal fan (both women and men) for quite a while now, but recently become a barca femeni fan. obviously being australian, i am a huge huge fan of the matildas (less so a socceroos fan tho, but up the boys).

although i love football, i am the least coordinated person and have not ever played football outside of pe lessons in school. i grew up as a competitive swimmer before i quit when i was 16 and i also played a few seasons of club netball during high school (i was not that great). i mostly am a pilates girlie now, but also have decided to start running this year and am running my first 14k race in august (please cross your fingers that i make it out alive).

although i've been an avid fic reader for over a decade across quite a few fandoms, i only started writing fic this year. that mostly happened because i've been on somewhat of a sabbatical for the past few months, and am not currently in uni or working so i've finally had time to actually put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) on all the words that have been floating around in my brain.

in saying that, my self declared sabbatical will be ending in july so i cannot promise any consistency around posting. i don't mind some gentle pushing but please keep in mind i usually take a full time course load at uni, work two jobs and also have a social life, friends, family and also a whole host of health problems so sometimes my life gets a bit too out of hand and it kinda is out of my control.

i really am trying to enter my era of a healthy work-life balance though, so i'm hoping we won't reach the same level of chaos that my life previously has been.

anyways, if you have made it to this point, you are a real trooper and thanks for reading through my rambles!

:))

[isagrimorie]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @curator-on-ao3 for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

48 stories

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

134,192 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Person of Interest, Life (NBC), Firefly, Doctor Who, Glee, Legacies, Fringe, Ranma 1/2, Once Upon a Time, Bunheads, Burn Notice, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Conversations with Dead People (Life, Sameen Shaw )- Shaw can see dead people.

Definitely, Maybe (Person of Interest, Root/Shaw) - It starts with a phone call.

Runtime Issues - (Person of Interest, Root/Shaw) - Root's on a deadline but she keeps running into one consistent problem.

Personal Day (Sameen Shaw, Root/Shaw, Person of Interest) - Shaw is taking a personal day, she's had it all planned. Cooked meal and Bear. But best laid plans are always thwarted.

Dodging Bullets - (Person of Interest/Mr & Mrs Smith Fusion, Root/Shaw) - On paper, Sam Shaw is a successful New York doctor in a stable relationship with a successful software consultant. In reality, Shaw is a Government assassin, a little bored with her stable relationship until a new mission starts shaking things up.

5. Do you respond to comments?

If I do, as much as possible, even though sometimes I feel repetitive thanking people for the comments.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I think it has to be Metamorphosis. Person of Interest -- a little bit of an AU to the finale. Proposing what if Harold didn't make it. But Shaw was there and Root!Machine to see him off.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think it might be the Life (NBC)'s Gethsemane.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think so. At least, I hope not!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I am not confident writing smut, I only did it once in Life. I don't think I moved it from livejournal to ao3.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I do! I love crossovers! There's the one where Dani Reese and Sameen Shaw are estranged twins, unfortunately unfinished called Gemini. And a Person of Interest/Elementary crossover.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I... don't think so. As far as I know but I would welcome it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Oh, I tried but I don't think I've ever finished one. TBF I hardly finish any fic.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

This is so hard to answer because this is... what you would call seasonal. Right now in Trek 90s phase, it's Janeway/Seven. Although I am a multishipper sometimes Janeway/Chakotay sneaks in.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The list is waaay too long. But there's Dodging Bullets, the Mr and Mrs Smith but Root/Shaw, the aforementioned Gemini. The Person of Interest/Elementary crossover.

The Hope/Lizzie Legacies AU where Lizzie decides to stay in season 4 and help Hope during the time Lizzie split from Hope.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do get the character voices right.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I seldom finish a story, unfortunately.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If I find someone who is fluent, I would want to consult with them.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It was an anime called Zenki. It was written in a mix of Tagalog and English.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

There are several:

New Ground (Doctor Who, Rose Tyler) - Rose on Parallel Earth AU before it was jossed by Journey's End.

Six months after Norway, she's moving on and letting go.

The first multi-chaptered story I've ever finished.

Human Landscape (Life, Dani Reese centric)

the sound of the city tonight / keeps my dreams and my demons alive. Reese and Crews solve the murder of two young drug dealers.

The longest fic I've ever written, a Reese-centric story with case-of-the-week elements.

I'm still proud of this because I started the story with an idea and it went through as planned. It's also the first I wrote in a stream-of-consciousness style that would be the style for most of my Life story.

I had such a strong sense of who Dani Reese was and I was gripped with the desire to write Dani's prequel story. And I'm glad I did!

Metamorphosis - (Person of Interest, Harold Finch, Sameen Shaw. Finale AU-ish.)

Once, long ago, when he realized the Machine had handpicked Sameen Shaw to join their team, he found the notes Dr. Shaw’s Chief Resident wrote. It struck Harold how much of a small-minded fool the doctor was to let such a talented and brilliant woman like Shaw go. She was his doctor and he trusted no other doctor than Miss Shaw.

I just re-read this story and I am pretty proud of this. The title is from the Philip Glass music playing in the finale. I love Finch and Shaw's friendship, so I wanted them to have more scenes.

Also, I was never that convinced Harold escaped unscathed. He either escapes but as trade-off, he gets his father's illness, or he doesn't escape.

“I can’t move you, Harold.” There was an edge of frustration in her words. “If I’d made it here sooner–” Shaw never needed comfort nor assurances but Harold regretted… He regretted too many things. Over her shoulder, Harold fancied he saw a woman in Root’s form with a black belted coat. She smiled at him sadly and placed a ghostly hand on Shaw’s shoulder. Sharp and still. Harold placed his hand over hers, his hand was sticky from his own blood. “I understand, Miss Shaw.” Shaw finally stopped moving. She looked at him for a long, long moment, and then she nodded. Harold watched as she wiped her hands on her pants, pulled his glasses from his face, and cleaned them. Miss Shaw's features came to sharp focus when she returned them. And then she sat next to him.

Tagging: If anyone would love to participate, please feel free! Just pick it up and move it along!

And I'd like to tag a few names but please don't feel obligated to participate in this if you don't want to!

@terapsina, @tea-earl-grey, @coraniaid, @explosionshark, @mihrsuri,

[fizzigigsimmer]

i wanna hear about all your fics!! so bachelor au, blinding baby like city lights, news paper au and love aint fair at all!!

Ahh bless you nonny. Some of these are still just outlines but a few have chapters posted.

Starting with OUTLINES

The Bachelor Au: This is still one of my favorite ideas lol, born of my love of the insanity that is the bachelor franchise and the poorly concealed producer plants who are clearly just there for the drama. You can't tell me Billy wouldn't make a perfect Chad. The gist is Steve is the first Bisexual bachelor contestant. An icon, An American sweetheart looking for love. Robin and The Party are crew members and all the stranger things teens are contestants (Nancy, Chrissy, Eddie, Jason, Argyle, Heather) vying for his hand and represent various types of typical bachelor contestants. The funny ones, the good guys, the people there for clout, the people who somehow think they can get away with going on a dating show while still involved in a situationship back home, and the people who decide to do a reality show instead of go to therapy for their bag of issues. Billy is an instagram model hired by producers to be the seasons 'villian' and be hated by the audience. It's just supposed to be a free vacation where he gets to make some extra cash to be his most extra before he's finally sent home. But oops, they fall in love. Leaving them to figure out how they build a life together after the show when there are NDA's involved and they are the most hated ship in America.

Newspaper Club Au: This is a no upside down college fic featuring Billy/Nancy friendship, nerd!billy and jock!Steve. I haven't decided yet whether it's modern, 80s, or an ambiguous setting but the basic gist is the boys meet in college. Steve is there on a sports scholarship and chose California to follow Nancy, now his ex-girlfriend. Billy's an English major who works on the school paper with Nancy (one of his electives). He's pissed when she puts him on the sports column as it means he actually has to attend the games. He starts using the column to flirt with/aka harass swimmer Steve through increasingly ridiculous and suggestive commentary. The campus thinks it's a riot. Steve thinks Billy's an asshole and making him the butt of a joke just because he's a "dumb jock". Nancy plays matchmaker and also saves the integrity of her paper by finagling Billy into helping Steve write an essay for his English literature elective. Billy takes the opportunity to show him he was 1000 percent serious about wanting to know if his dick is even bigger out of the speedo.

Onto the POSTED fics

Blinding Baby Like City Lights: Is a dom/sub au where everyone is either a dominant, submissive, or switch. Basically some people need to dominate to stay balanced and others need to submit, or some mix of the two. And everyone responds differently to different things, creating many different 'types.' Naturally not all types are good for each other. Billy is a masochistic sub, has known it for a long time but wasn't safe to explore it growing up with an abusive sadist for a father. He's managed to claw his way out of his abusive home and become a successful business man who is often mistaken for a dom. He found family in Heather & Chrissy, but never a dominant he can trust enough to handle him and give him exactly what he needs. Steve's a recovering sadist. Too much privilege and neglectful parents lead him to some pretty unhealthy and toxic tendencies in his relationship with his first love Nancy. Losing his sub nearly broke him, but he broke good and has been rebuilding his life with his best friend Robin for the last few years. He just wants to take care of people by making good food, and find someone he can take care of always, without having to be afraid of his own desires. Steve might just be perfect for Billy, and Billy might just be what Steve needs to finally embrace who he is.

*** EDIT

When you have so many WIPs you confuse two of them.

Love Aint Fair At All: Werewolf au + a/b/o dynamics. This is a retelling of Snow White that takes place in an alternate version of Hawkins where magic exists. Some peoples magic makes them Wolf Shifters (people who are born with the ability to turn into wolves) and others use their magic to bend the external elements, these people are called Hags. Steve lives in the Cold Zone, a portion of the country that is suffering under a powerful Hags curse. Billy is a Wolf Shifter, exiled from their former pack in California, he and Neil make their way as huntsmen for hire. But everything goes to shit wen Neil brings the family to Hawkins to serve Steve's cousin Elsie, a powerful and mysterious Hag whose obsession with beauty and power threatens to cover the world in ice. The only thing holding her at bay is an old curse that limits her powers and a prophecy that promised one day an omega child would be born who was fairer than her. Good thing Steve is a perfectly normal bland beta boy - until he isn't.