#someone once told me that if you use a lot of salt it means you're in love

[restinslices]

Okay I have a request. Can you please do MK1 Earthrealm men headcanons in bullet point format reacting to a 2 week sex ban? 🤭 You can come up with reasons why there was a ban in the first place. Also would the reader fold or the men first?

Took a lil minute since I had irl shit but I finished

Johnny Cage

Johnny's big mouth is the reason the ban happened 

Johnny is big on PDA and he shows you affection a lot. It's cute, but it makes some people wanna barf 

Someone would make a comment calling you both gross and asking why Johnny had to be on you like that, and Johnny would defend himself 

“It's not me! It's them! They couldn't function without me touching them”

This would result in a confrontation and you saying it's the complete opposite and then it'd lead to how much sex you have and then you'd challenge him to a ban 

At first Johnny is super confident 

Two weeks without sex? Piece of cake! If worse comes to worse, he could always sneak away and use his hand 

For the first couple of days it's pretty easy. He's not THAT feral 

Once the first week passes, he's struggling 

Everything seems to turn him on and he can't get any privacy. It's like you can read his mind because every single time he tries to sneak away, you're right behind him. He's real close to asking if you have a power you haven't told him about

So naturally, he tries to get you to fold first 

He tries everything. He flirts more than usual (which is already a lot), compliments you, rubs against you, kisses you longer than need be, anything and everything 

You never break and it frustrates him beyond belief 

How are you completely fine when he's struggling like crazy?

“You can go two weeks without having sex with me? That's insulting” “No it's not. You're just a big baby”

Needless to say, he doesn't make the two weeks 

If you wanna be nice, you can make him apologize then have sex with him after 

If you wanna be mean, you can make him apologize but still make him wait the 2 weeks

He's begging you to be nice 

Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi is the one who brings it up 

You're all over him and he's ok with that, but you both should be focusing on training. Liu Kang is choosing a champion for Earthrealm soon, but you seem too busy jumping on him 

He told you that you two should be focusing more, and you argued that you are focused 

You are? Alright. Prove it. 

And that's how the sex ban happens 

It's not that Kenshi isn't struggling. He is. His determination is higher tho

Remember this is when he's at the Academy and he's trying to restore his clan and get his sword back from Johnny. So he's real goal oriented right now 

When he gets frustrated, instead of going to have sex with you, he just tries to think about his goals and the outcome he wants 

Your frustration also pushes him to keep going. As asshole-ish as it sounds, it's hilarious to him 

Watching your attempts to seduce him and trying to get him to give up genuinely makes him laugh 

Salt in the wound because IMAGINE rubbing against him and he laughs at you

Sickening 

The more frustrated you become, the more determined he becomes 

At some point you tell him you give up 

Now I see this going 1 of 3 ways 

A) He accepts your defeat and gives you what you want 

B) He makes you go on and on about how his focus is better than yours, and he still refuses to have sex with you and makes you wait 

C) He has sex with you but doesn't let you finish since you lost 

Depends on the day and his mood 

Kung Lao

I can see his situation being similar to Kenshi’s but not exactly the same 

Let's paint the scene 

You're at the Academy and Kung Lao isn't really focused. He's so convinced he'll be the Earthrealm champion but he keeps slacking off 

When you mention this, he dismisses it. Yeah, he spends a lot of time under you but he trains too! 

That's when you say that if he's not chosen to represent Earthrealm, then he can't touch you for 2 weeks 

Him not being the chosen one? Yeah fucking right 

… 

… 

Well shit-

Surely you're not serious though- oh you are? 

He tries to find loopholes and convince you to drop it 

“It's not like we had a contract” “Come on, you can't be serious” “Two weeks? That's excessive! Two days tops” “It's not like I just want sex. You want it too. I won't be the only one suffering”

You don't budge 

He's frustrated because he didn't get the damn lightning amulet and he wants to let it out but you're not letting him 

And his hand isn't the same 

He tries to convince himself that he's fine. It's not a big deal. He can make it. Yadyadya 

I can see him making it through the 2 weeks but he's so visibly unhappy 

And do not laugh. He'll wanna kill you 

It's so obvious he's dying on the inside. His eyes linger way too long on you 

He took the L at the mini tournament and now he feels like he's taking an L now. Back to back slaps in the face 

And you lecturing him about how he could've possibly beaten Raiden if he focused more irritates the life outta him 

He gets it! Damn! Let it go and touch him 

You do not and he's forced to wait the 2 weeks 

Be aware that once the clock strikes midnight, he'll be on you immediately 

Raiden

Aight y'all I'm lowkey running out of reasons 

And because of that, imma say he just heard about the shit on google. Maybe someone was saying it could benefit the relationship. Idk. 

He brings up the idea and you agree to it 

Now I don't see Raiden wanting to have sex all the time so I don't think 2 weeks would be that difficult for him 

Does he struggle somewhat? A little 

And I mean a little 

It's not on his mind all the time and when he’s in the mood he reminds himself how little time he has left 

He's also training new recruits at the Academy so that keeps him busy and distracted 

He definitely wants to have sex at some point but it’s not something pushing on his shoulders

It’s not bothering him the way it bothers the other Earthrealm men

As for you, I believe in you making it as well 

Like I said, Raiden doesn't want sex all the time so it's not like you're fucking like rabbits. So 2 weeks ain't that bad 

He's also gone for some time so it's not like you're seeing him all the time and wanting to fuck on him 

If you're training new recruits as well, you're both busy and fucking around new recruits ain't a good look 

The two of you make it through the 2 weeks. Congratulations! 

Your prize? There is none

Just a little fun for the two of you to do

Maybe you'll do it again and try to go longer 

I think overall he can probably last around a month

Liukang

Before I even say why this happened, let me just say you are NEVER winning this 

This man has incredible patience. This is the same guy that rebuilt society and waited hundreds of thousands of years for his friends to come back. Do y'all really think he'll struggle with not getting his dick wet for 2 weeks? 

Now why does this ban happen? I'm so glad you asked and I'm definitely not grabbing at straws here- (or is it grasping?)

Now idk the timeline and how much time passed in the game so excuse me if I'm wrong 

Let's say the bullshit with the other Shang Tsung happened over the span of 2 weeks 

When shit started picking up, Liu Kang thought it would be best for the both of you to have space 

He doesn't mean like, a breakup type of break. He just means “hey, we can't be distracted. We should try and give each other space so we can be more productive”

You can be around each other but things like dates, and sex aren't happening until shit is fixed 

Now, like I said, Liu Kang is fine 

He's thinking about everyone's safety. Not sex. 

And that doesn't mean he doesn't wanna have sex with you. He just knows he needs to focus right now 

Trying to convince him that he can spare a few minutes to be alone isn't gonna work with him. 

“This'll help you too. Your will, your resolve, your-”

Insert other monk type shit he'd say

You can try and try and try to convince him but he'll always say no

He'll hug and kiss you but that takes a few seconds 

You can tell him that he spends more time sleeping than fucking but he'll disregard that 

You can try to flirt with him and touch him but he'll seem unmoved 

In reality, he's definitely hormonal when you do that but he's not clawing at the walls. He could last a lot longer than 2 weeks 

Once the bullshit is over he'll do what you want for as long as you want 

Might bring up doing it again as a joke but you seem like you'll try and kill him so it never happens 

[howlingday]

Jaune's Shampoo

Seer

"DAMMIT, NORA!" Jaune opened his shower door. As he exited, he noticed his body had drastically changed. Using a mixture of his shampoo and experimental goo found at the fiendish Dr. Merlot's laboratory, Nora had unwittingly created a mutagen just to prank her team leader.

Jaune flopped his uselessly long arm against the shower handle. Where once was an arm with bones and meat that connected to a hand with fingers was now a black, boneless tentacle underlined by suction cups. At the very end was a sharp, piercing, uh, stabby thing. As he gripped the handle, he heard an awful scraping sound.

It was his hand, er, tentacle. Within the suction cups were sharp spikes. Stepping free from his confined space, his arms slapped against the tiled floor of the bathroom. Looking down, his "feet," which were smaller tentacles with just as many blades to match. He didn't know how he was hovering, but right now he didn't care.

He had to get out and figure out a way to cure himself! The less tentacley the better! And he would do that... as soon as he opened the door! The knob proved slipperier than the handle.

"Come on!"

"Are you okay in there?"

"Hey, who is that?" Jaune asked.

"It's Blake. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but... I'm not feeling too good!"

"Was it the fish?" Blake inquired. "I didn't think it was good either."

"No, no, it wasn't the fish." Jaune replied. "This, uh, is something new."

Blake was silent for a moment. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No, no, you can stay! It's just... Can you promise not to be weirded out if I get this door open?"

"If?" Blake asked.

"My new hands need some training."

As Blake pondered what he meant, the door gave a click. She stepped away, letting Jaune make his way out of the bathroom. Blake had seen many strange things in her life, but a person with black arms twice the length of the body hovering atop diminished legs, also black, and a red cloud briefly passing around his head? Definitely tops the list now.

"Uh..." Blake quirked her brow. "I have a few questions."

"I'm pretty sure Nora is responsible for this."

"...Well, that's at least one of my questions answered." Blake stepped aside as Jaune floated to the closet. "May I ask how?"

"I used shampoo that turned me into this." He slapped his appendage uselessly against the handle.

"Couldn't you have used a different shampoo?"

"Like what?" Jaune asked, choosing to slip his singular digit into the hole. "Use Pyrrha's shampoo, or maybe Ren's?"

"Would that be so wrong?" Blake asked. He gave no response. "The answer is no, so long as you told them."

"Ah." Jaune nodded, opening the closet door at last, and looked through his options. Unfortunately, none of them accounted for "red-smokey-head" today. On the upside, he was getting used to his arms.

"Snf, snf, snf." Jaune turned and saw Blake leaning close to him. Her eyes shut as her nose twitched slightly. She gave a soft hum before she opened her eyes, where she blushed and lept away. "Excuse me."

"What, do I smell bad?" Jaune asked. "Like, fish or something?"

"No, you..." She cleared her throat. "Your smell reminded me of my home. It's like coconuts, sea salt, and fresh fruit."

"Like apples?"

"Like mangoes, and pineapple, and..." She gave a soft smile before swiftly turning to a frown. "Sorry, I shouldn't have invaded your privacy like that."

"No, no, it's fine!" Jaune raised his tentacled arms. "I mean, it's not fine fine, but I think I understand why you got really close. You're homesick, right?"

There was a long pause before Blake gave her answer. "In a way, yes." She sighed. "But it's more like I miss what my home used to be. Before the White Fang."

"Oh." Jaune nodded. He didn't know much about the Faunus supremacy group, but he understood what he was told by Ruby. Blake did a lot of bad things, but for a good cause, a good reason. Then things got bad until she couldn't stay anymore. He hated seeing someone looking so upset, so he had an idea.

"Hey, uh, Blake?" She looked to him. "If you want, you can, uh, smell me whenever you want." His face tinged red, though it wasn't the red cloud floating about. "Uh, sorry if that sounded weird, but-"

Jaune was cut off as he felt himself ensnared by the faunus girl. He reciprocated by giving her a hug in response. He'd never been this close to a girl before and it felt... nice. Until-

"Ow!" Jaune looked down to see Blake nipping at him. "Uh, B-Blake, could you- Ouch!" He tried to free himself, but found both arms wrapped around himself, rendering his escape impossible. Meanwhile, Blake continued to pant and nibble on his bare skin.

"Ow! B-Blake! S-Stop~!"

"Oohoo! Kinky~!" Nora said from the window. She looked to her constitutent hanging off beside her. "See, Ren? I told you it would work~!"

[historicalasiandramas]

CLJ Recaps

PSDs in this post brought to you by @xiaolanhua! Thank you!

A lot of really emotional things happen really quickly in this ep.

DFQC!Orchid bites Changheng's hand when he reaches out and then tries to force Orchid!DFQC to kiss to switch back. She makes him promise not to hurt Changheng, or she'll kill herself and trap him in her body forever.

And while all this is going down, Xunfeng is revealed as the front man to the coolest metal act in Cangyan Sea.

Back in the forest, DFQC uses Orchid's face to ask Changheng the question that separates a hero from a villain:

This entire time the Moon Supreme had no idea why Orchid would want to go back to a place where she was ridiculed and overlooked. And now Changheng can't even promise that he'd protect her from Yunzhong. Even the real Orchid is saddened to hear Changheng's silence.

Changheng will always put his duty above his feelings. That's all the answer DFQC needs. In her hopelessness, Orchid accidentally makes a sound and reveals her hiding spot to CH. Before he can reveal her, Rong Hao appears and blocks CH. He smiles gently down at Orchid in DFQC's body, showing her that he's already aware of the switch.

Meanwhile, XF has stormed Silent Moon Palace and his killing everyone in his path. I actually really liked this scene, because you get to see 1) Xunfeng's power and 2) how his fighting style differs from his brother.

Orchid tells CH that there's no way for him to lift the curse and says that he should leave. CH refuses to give up and comes up with a different plan: extract Orchid's soul and use self-renewing soil to create a new body for her.

But before Rong Hao can deliver the killing blow, Orchid intervenes kisses DFQC, making them switch back. It's amazing how with a few expression & mannerism changes from their actors, I fully believe that these are two different characters!

DFQC is ready to show Orchid that he's willing to destroy those who don't value her, but she reminds him of his promise not to harm CH. His hellfire subsides, but he's not done rubbing salt in CH's wounds yet! He grabs Orchid and kisses her in front of Changheng. Obviously CH is pissed but before he can do anything rash in his state, Rong Hao teleports them away.

Orchid is angry at the forced kiss and runs off. DFQC has bigger things to worry about than following her: such as Xunfeng's coup. He confronts his brother in the throne room and XF can immediately tell from bearing & expression alone that this is actually DFQC.

As a person with brothers, I can confirm that this is possible! Growing up with someone means you also pick up on their mannerisms. Someone once told me that my younger brother and I sound exactly the same, despite the fact that I'm afab.

The music in this scene is exquisite. DFQC's steps match the beat and the choir kicks in as XF flies down to attack.

I'm personally a huge fan of when DFQC's lightning eyes activate! It was also really sexy of him to stop XF in midair and then chokes him. I'm so sorry Xunfeng....

Ronghao manages to get CH back to Shuiyuntian. Unfortunately, no one can know that he disobeyed orders and went to Cangyan Sea. The only option is for Ronghao to give up some of his life. Danyin offered herself, but Ronghao says that she doesn't have enough power. It has to be him. He's willing to sacrifice for CH. As he shares cultivation with CH, Ronghao's hair begins to turn white.

Unless there's a spell to disguise that, I don't think his Lord of Haishi City mask is gonna work anymore! Anyway, I love a man desperate to undo something that was his own fault to begin with!

Here's the golden brown gown with some important questions:

It's funny how flippant he was about Xunfeng wanting to kill him. If you don't have siblings, wanting to kill them is normal even if you're not the leader of a country with super powerful magic!

DFQC astutely comments that if Ronghao wanted dominion over the Moon Tribe, he could've done it at any time while DFQC was locked way. All this talk of usurping has the Moon Supreme curious and he asks Shangque why he didn't kill his master.

DFQC realizes that Orchid was right about SQ and about him not understanding human emotions.

And finally!!! We get to see my Die Yi! Like Shanque, she is loyal and probably at least a little bit in love with Ronghao. She's distraught seeing him weakened.

She tells Ronghao that she wants him to regain his cultivation, but he says that even if she used up her entire life, it wouldn't work.

Die Yi demands to know why she can't use her life for Ronghao when he used his cultivation for Changheng. This literally sounds like a lover's quarrel. "Do you love him more than me?!" Yes. The only person alive Ronghao cares about other than himself is Changheng.

And yet despite showing his weakness to Die Yi, Ronghao refuses to admit that he saved Changheng out of love. "I know you're not heartless!" WELL MAYBE HE WISHES HE WAS! Let him have this villainous moment even if no one is fooled.

Die Yi collects herself to report on Silent Moon Palace. She asks if they should kill Xunfeng, but Ronghao is convinced that DFQC will do it for them. After all, he killed his own father. What's a brother to him? UNFORTUNATELY you miscalculated! DFQC has Orchid with him and while you're settling into your villain arc, Moon Supreme is s l o w l y entering his redemption arc :)

Changheng is awake now and determined to leave, but is stopped by a summons from his brother. Yunzhong has found him out and questions Changheng. Fortunately, Danyin & Ronghao are there to intercede and say that he was merely eager to kill the enemy. CH grudgingly says they're right and YZ seals his power and puts him back under house arrest.

Speaking of house arrest, it seems like Orchid is back in her gilded cage again. Though this time SQ is watching her to report back to DFQC. I absolutely love the image of him in the golden robes, reading in front of the fire. It gives off such a soft and domestic feel, which is new!

While he's wondering why he acted the way he did when the Jade Ring should be suppressing Orchid's emotions, SQ enters.

DFQC notices something strange in Shangque's report: he's started calling her by a more respectful title. It's translated as Fairy Orchid, which doesn't feel right but I don't know Chinese and thus am not sure what he's actually calling her.

Apparently, the servants also respect Orchid and even say that she saved DFQC. And she did! Just not from Xunfeng. The palace maids want to throw a banquet for her, but aren't sure that DFQC will allow it. He lifts her house arrest and says Orchid is allowed to go wherever she wants within his realm. No one is allowed to stop her, be rude to her, or hurt her. Otherwise - you guessed it! - he will kill them :)

SQ thinks that Orchid choosing to save DFQC shows how loyal she is, but DFQC seems to be a bit riled up before that conclusion. What did you think he was gonna say, buddy? ;) He gives leave for the palace maids to throw the banquet but says that a gathering of women is inappropriate for him to attend.

BUT THEN HE GOES AND SPIES ANYWAY! Interestingly, the maids are calling Orchid elegant and pretty even though when she was first brought back, the courtesans said she was rather plain. DFQC creates a breeze to rustle the petals off the trees, knowing that this would make Orchid happy.

And here is where I died: he removes his ring.

You know, the thing that he was so desperate to get before because it isolates the mind and helps him deal with the Heart Curse? THAT ring. He then closes his eyes and basks in Orchid's joy.

If he's already addicted to joy, imagine what he'll be like when he falls for real damn!!

[goggles-mcgee]

i used to like u but whyre u still into hp? jkr’s transphobia and racism are so bad in those books

There are many problems with the books, movies, etc and the person who wrote them I will never and don't deny that.

I don't know why you felt the need to tell me you used to like me. That just...you could have simply asked the question without trying to put me down. I'm not buying the new game, I don't buy any kind of memorabilia, I don't but new books, I didn't go to see the new movies...I don't support JK Rowling. I don't support putting money in her pockets.

If you have or did follow me, then I would think you would see I'm no stranger to critiquing things or just plain pointing out things that I hate or that annoy me in a media I am consuming. I legit write salt because of how mad shows have mad me because I wanted things to go different or because I thought some things could have been handled much better.

HP is not different.

I like to come up with funny little ideas for it, maybe even in the future angst or something like a rewrite. Why? Because I hate what became of it and the author herself.

Me writing little ideas is not benefiting JKR in anyway. Those who write HP fanfic or draw HP fanart don't do it because they support JKR, they do it for the media they fell in love with once upon a time and many acknowledge they don't support JKR. Some even do so in a defiant nature against JKR.

HP was something I loved in my childhood but I did grow and acknowledge all it's faults as I did. Growing is sometimes learning and acknowledging mistakes or wrongs. JKR will never do this but guess what? Past fans have, but instead of burying a past love in shame many take to pointing out the wrongs and mistakes with their fics or their redesigns. To make it better.

I'm not going to hide being into what HP could have been/should have been. Because overall I'm just a fan of what other fans did with it. I don't want to feel shame about it but others really want me to feel ashamed.

The fact is I do feel shame. I feel shame for the little me who was so in love with the HP world that I never saw the wrongs until I grew up. I feel shame for all the gifts I got that were HP themed, I feel shame for the books I was given despite being only 10. I feel shame for things that were beyond my control because there are people who love to shove the old love fans of HP have in their faces despite repeated attempts to tell them we do not support JKR.

I could go on and on about me being LGBTQ+, I could go on about family members and friends being LGBTQ+ who are just like me and feel that shame, who hat JKR, etc.

But really I'm just going to end this ask with everyone needs to just stop this shaming. Everytime someone posts HP fanart they don't need someone in their comments shouting at them about why they would do such a thing. Everytime someone makes a fic they shouldn't be waring with themself if they should or shouldn't because they fear the reactions. The fans do not reflect the author.

There are so many fandoms out there that the media they are part of are problematic or the creator is and yet they aren't as heavily shamed, and I get it, HP is much bigger than a lot of them but it's still not right to attack the fans.

I know you're not attacking me. I know that. But it still doesn't feel nice to be told you used to be liked before someone even asked yo uyour opinion on something. It hurts when someone assumes.

I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you feel bad, you simply asked a question but I've gotten a lot more negative anon asks about this directed towards me and this way the most...polite and I felt it was the best to say my peace with all this.

[imsupposedtobearesponsibleteen]

Quick sidenote, I've since figured out im actually aroace and not bi, but me and Jay still had a thing going on. They were respectful af though, and if I didn't know them, I wouldn't have gotten to where I am now. However, I'm going to leave the figuring out I was bi in, because its okay to be wrong, and I was working with the information that I had at the time.

I was raised in the Methodist Church in Britan, who in the past few years have voted to allow the "God in love unites us" Bill thing that basically means that "same sex" couples can get married in Methodist Churches. However, it is up to the individual Church to decide whether or not they will allow for same sex couples to get married in their Church. The Church I attended voted to allow them to get married on the premises and so did another Church in my circuit where there was a relatively well known same sex marriage (one of them is training to become a Methodist minister and they both came to my Church for a period of time, I say its relatively well known, but it might just be my little bubble that makes me think it's well known, idk).

Anyway, in the church circuit I grew up, there was a gay minister. Apparently when I was like, 4 , she was due to do a service at my church. Now I'm too young to remember this so I'm just going off what my mother has told me, so this could all just be a load of codswallop, so take it with a pinch of salt and season your food with it, but apparently there were some people in the church that gave a good amount of money to the church that told our minister that they weren't happy, walked out and left the Methodist Church altogether. Now, this was a good 15/16 years ago, but my mother has repeated this story to me numerous times since. I've only seen this minister at the church i grew up in 2 times in recent memory. One for a district council meeting and one for a leaving do, and she only spoke for 30 minutes between the two occasions.

From what I can recall, there has only ever been one service dedicated to LGBT issues in the church that I grew up in, and that was in the weeks leading up to the God in Love Unites Us vote. The steward that day said before the service, and I'll never forget this, "please do not become hateful to those speaking on these issues, and the opinions of those who are speaking on this issue are not necessarily reflected in the service unless otherwise stated." I can remember the steward that it was and who was delivering the service. Anyway he went on about the science and stuff and then he was going on about his biblical opinion. He was basically all for voting for the Bill to come through the church, but he wouldn't want to perform the wedding of a same sex couple, and this is the chair of the district that had this opinion, so a lot of people in the church in my district will listen to him. Not everyone agrees with him, some for different reasons others. That is the only time we've ever had a dedicated service. I can remember my mother saying to the steward before the service, "I'm quite happy with gay people, just as long as the don't try and make me one of them."

My mother has always made me feel unsafe when it came to my identity. We were once on the bus and there was a set of 3 seats next to each other facing sideways. My mum was on the outside seat, I was in the middle seat and then there was a man in the other outside seat to my left. He got up and got off the bus before we did, but there were people stood up so one sat down to my left. My mum looked at him and then whispered to me, "he's gay" and then pulled a face. 10 year old me was sat there like "and?? What's you're point?" There wasn't one. She just found it amusing that someone would go outside if they were in fact *potentially* gay, and yes, you can (according to my mother) usually tell by looking. My mother once found out that a police officer that she was talking to (there'd been some sort of incident outside the house and she was a witness. For some reason, me being autistic came up, and the police officer said "oh my girlfriends nephew is autistic". When my mum was telling me this, she stopped at girlfriend and pulled a face, to which of course I pulled her up on it. She said that she "just found it interesting that she had a girlfriend and not a boyfriend, and why she would choose that lifestyle". We then argued about her opinions on the LGBT community, and how her language was harmful. There's a trans woman in a church in my circuit. My mum went up to her and said "so you're a man that thinks he's a woman?" Afterwards, she told me that this woman needed a hair transplant and that she clearly needed help (but it is important to not that she misgendered the woman).

When i was 10, I started to figure out that something was going on with my gender and sexuality. I didn't have the language to put to this stuff, but all my anxiety that I'd had before that had come, in part, to me trying to suppress these feelings. I was depressed, anxious, had suicidal thoughts and tendencies and was hurting myself multiple times a day, 7 days a week. However, I couldn't express why this was, because I did not have the language provided to me to express this, and I knew that if I did, the consequences could have been catastrophic.

I figured out I was bi when I was 12, but didn't tell anyone I knew in real life until I was 15. I had about 30 Internet friends that knew, and loved me and accepted me.

For a few years, online, I would tell people I didn't know that I was a boy, even though that label felt off sometimes. There were times I felt 100% male, then sometimes I was more 50%, other times I felt genderless. There were times that I felt 50% male and 50% nonbinary, or 50% male and 50% agender. Sometimes it was more 60/40, or 80/20 or 70/30. I knew male wasn't the right term, so when I found the term agenderbi was delighted. I clung to that term for 7 years between 12 and 19. I had a partner at the time and we both identified as agender. I don't know if they still use that label, we broke up in 2021. We dated for 6 years and they were a good partner and I wish them all the best. I hope you're doing well, Jay. You deserve the world.

Jay was the first person I came out to as agender and they definitely knew I was bi. We met in a group chat on kik to do with eating disorders, and that's how we first bonded. They were the first person who found out my name that I use now and we went through so much together. Whilst this was happening I met one of my best friends to this day on either Kik or Wattpad. We still talk regularly and I love and appreciate him so much.

Within the last 12 months, I came across the label that was right for my gender. Genderfaun. It comes under the genderfluid umbrella, but never encompasses female or feminine genders. However, i have been given advice that you can identify as agenderfaun at the same time as genderfaun, as I do still experience being agender at times. At the moment, I'm not concerned about adding another label to my gender, however instead of switching between he/him and they/them like I used to all those years ago when I was desperately trying to figure out who I was and what I was going through, he/they both feel right to use. It was such a relief to finally figure out who I was.

My friends are, without a doubt, the reason that I'm still alive. They are the reason I don't beat myself up over who I am anymore, they are the ones who taught me what pride is, to live as authentically as i can and be as unapologetically me as possible.

We need pride, because tonight, someone out there thinks that they are better off dead that being themselves.

That's why I needed pride. That's why others need pride.

My mother probably won't accept me if I come out to her as trans to her. I don't need her acceptance. I need my acceptance. My friends accept me.

There is a church near where I lived before I moved to uni, they did this roundtable thing, it was for the LGBTQIA community. It was a Church of England church.

I have never felt so much love from a church before. I was accepted and loved. Church can be a loving place when God isn't being used as a scapegoat for hate.

Don't kill your congregation when trying to preach to the choir. We're not all singing from the same hymn sheet.

I grew up with so much adversity around my gender and sexuality that I didn't go into here. But I promise you, if that's what you're facing, there are people that will love you and support you. We care for you. It's not going to be easy right away, but you have a community around you that want to see you thrive.

Stay safe. We all want to see you make it. We all want to see you thrive.

[the-firebird69]

The Rock surprised my dad with his dream truck😊 #family #shorts #love #p...

I don't know the guy is it's me no. It's a guy who is mourning someone and it's not Trump and he knows the guy and he's a warlock and he gave him his truck because he was having a hard time and The Rock can get transportation. What you say is when he skips a lot of words and he says that I wish I could see my dad and I have to bring him flowers cuz he's in the ground. He let the guy just stew and I heard about it and it came up and said we didn't do it and we know it's them they're having a hard time with us too and they can't seem to get up there and they can't seem to figure out what to do and he says they know what to do and I'm trying to get it out and he was astounded and he says what is it it seems like that movie is splinter and it says what do you mean so they're small ones and it came off tributaries of the big ones and yeah they were using people you get really face down Saturn if they armed it but you can get up there at certain times and you can go on the side of it and if the ships big enough you can penetrate the planet deep enough so they have plans like that and they don't think it's at that stage yet but those weapons on the spheres are very dangerous and the type of stone is different and he got really upset this is how long have you done that I said who you talking to so he said oh it's like talking to a pile of idiots you don't let him remember anything he's skipping words he he has a paragraph to say it says two words because you keep on pushing him under and suffocating people and you're completely out to lunch all day long you're you're playing hooky and having a great time yeah all these plans and they have nothing to do with what's happening. Honest to God you led by your nose just something really simple I don't know everybody has their own thing he's going on and on so he says there's a town called westborough I grew up there I was living there doing all sorts of things trying to educate myself and my dad was doing a lot of great work and I thought okay not much of the town I was born in Concord that's a huge town someone told me westborough was the center of the revolutionary war that you guys were parked there that blew my mind then I started noticing things like that happened on certain days of the month we're happening again from the revolutionary war once you start researching all these dates and figuring out what's going on you're going to see that you're not in control of your lives. And he said this and this guy started looking and he went wow that's crazy one of the big things he said was we were all in westborough and we knew what we were doing then and we didn't know that they took it this way this is why I heard you didn't take it this way but the thing is the westeros I could transfer of another place and they keep on trying to run this certain program and so he goes what do you think it is and say they're trying to take Saturn and Jupiter and they're trying to get impractical ships and they're trying to get thorium answer trying to run it into it in a cycle and technology and back then the technology was like a bottle rocket made with water pressure that's what it was and he said that's amazing so that I came up with a design now and it disappeared and it didn't put it back there and it's you put these bags of your radium into it and you ration your salt and it's up to like 80,000 PSI roughly in the stone shift and he said holy crap that'll move anything I said yeah that'll move the Earth if you connected engines to it on one side they're massive they they're going to be 15,000 miles across it's going to move the planet and he said I'm going to be quiet now that's just going to be out and so so I started working and they're fighting these things and we have to publish

Mac daddy

Olympus

Good for you this blows but really I can't stand this this guy is complicitous in harming us and it's a gifted guy and he doesn't understand and you mean the gifted guy and I understand he doesn't get it and these guys are kindling

Camilla

The kindling but they discovered that Saturn might be held instead of something they can grab and they tried to grab it so they missed once or twice and I don't think they were ready for that and they found other things and it's not that it's not part of their plan they have stone chips and they were planning to use them it's just a the plan of the clans looks a bit more in depth than they thought

Zues Hera

We are hearing it they keep asking how deep does it go and how much different things and I'm saying I don't know he was on his own and he can really really big and he can get really really big I enjoy you keep messing with them and they're smart and these people are stupid and you're in trouble

Camilla

We have had enough of this no, we're in trouble these things are huge I've never seen stuff like this and he says it's really the job and it has to be and now I'm starting to follow something we have bosses who know about it and they're pushing people way past it and you can't stand it at all and he might have some of this and he can squash the entire bunker complex and we don't want to hear from them if that's the case

Brock Lesnar

You're fighting each other it's terrible it's been going on for a while and it's pretty rough and it's real but this is way worse these people are Adam bothering him and they don't know what they're getting it's really bad so he says if they buy the beer I make a lesser beer they're going to know what they're getting and I get what he's saying

Hulk Hogan and yeah it helps they actually they calm down a little it makes a little more dangerous but holy s*** they're a bunch of spasmodic assholes they don't even have the right stuff in their head

Olympus again

[rockingrobin69]

Losing, lost

Salt. Draco looked at the list, the one he spent over ten minutes writing, and which now comprised of two items: garlic and soy milk. What was the other—right, salt. And shampoo. The lemony one that Potter commented on, if he finds it again. And tomato sauce. Maybe spaghetti, so he can try to make—salt, he still didn’t write salt. Draco sighed, rubbed his eyes.

Focus, gods be damned. Fo-cus. This wasn’t so fucking hard. He had to finish here, so he could take a bloody shower, go to the shops and then… well. Who knows.

Even though he decided strictly against it not even fifteen minutes ago, Draco put down the pen. Reached for his pocket. Gave the black screen a little pet, for luck, took a deep breath… oh. Still nothing.

Fine. He didn’t expect anything yet. Didn’t expect anything, at all; it was Potter who came to him, Potter who said, it can only be us. That if he had any hopes of fooling the press, it had to be Draco’s hand in his, for whatever idiotic reason.

Even if he did wink afterwards. Even if he failed to explain exactly what this harebrained scheme would entail. Even if it’s been three whole weeks, and Draco was losing his absolute mind—

Urgh. He sighed, elbow sliding down the table till his cheek rested on the wood. The list, right in front of his nose, glared at him two itemed-ly. He still didn’t write salt.

Draco closed his eyes, about to embark on the worst five-minute wallow cruise, party of one, when the world erupted into flames. No, just his mobile, with the horrifying ringtone Potter set up. His hands shook so much that the entire thing jumped, hitting the table and then down to the floor; he dove after it, cursing quietly all the while, and when he finally hit the tiny green key he was on all fours.

“Po—Harry? Hello? Hello?”

“Draco?” his voice was crackly. The mobile slipped and fell a final time, with a thud. “Draco? Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, I just, gods,” Draco’s head thunked on the floor next to the cursed device. It was so dirty down here. He really needs to hoover more. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Hmm? No. nothing.”

But he could swear he heard something. If Potter was laughing at him, he will be sorry.

“Listen—”

“Hey, so—”

Draco hit his head again for good measure. “What? Sorry. You go.”

“I just wanted to know if I could come by later?”

“Erm. Why?”

“Wh… what do you mean, why?”

“I mean, why.” He was already on the floor, already out of his mind, so why not finally, finally ask. “There are no cameras in my flat. You said—the whole idea was to present an act, right? In front of someone?”

More muffled sounds. “Draco… can we talk about it in person? I can come over, and—”

“No.” He’s been playing the fool for too long. Losing sleep, losing focus and his goddamned mind. Losing, loser, lost. “Tell me now.”

“I... fuck. I dream about that lemony smell.”

“Pardon?”

“Your—the shampoo. I dream about it. Every night. Wishing I had… that you were with me. Draco? You still there?”

“Yes.” But he had no idea what to say. What to make of this without being delusional, without breaking his own heart. “I don’t know what that means.”

Potter sighed. It was so loud in his ear. “It means I’m not just doing it for the press. That it was never actually…”

“Come over, then,” Draco said before it all becomes too much. “Tonight. I can cook, that spaghetti you liked. I’m going to the shops, could pick up… yes?”

“Yes.” He sounded relieved. Something in Draco’s belly writhed with dreadful joy.

“Good. See you later.” He had to finish the list, take a bloody shower. Then maybe get to the bottom of this whole thing. Draco picked himself up from the floor, sat back down, grabbed the pen. Okay.

Joy was a very distracting feeling, it turned out. He never got salt in the end, but they never actually noticed.    

For my dearest @phoebe-delia, 700 words for ‘It can only be us’. By the way, you can prompt me too!    

[missblissy]

Glad you're back!! Miss you! I see about your post, can I have some modern AU maybe of Human! Alastor x reader going to an aquarium? Maybe a cute date? Haha thx amazing to have you again

(( QwQ/ It's good to be back! And I would be honored to do that. I had a lot of fun with this. I hope you enjoy!!))

It was hinted with salt filling the air. Misty and warm, the summer sea winds rolled off the coast and into your hair. The Long Island sound was picture perfect, just as you remember in your childhood dreams. You were staying in a quaint little town your familly use to visiting summer after summer when you were a child. And it was the perfect place for you to bring yourself on a long over due vacation. Work had been too much to handle this past year, and now you could spend the next week relaxing on the soft sandy coastal beaches of Long Island. 

However today you had plans to take the ferry across the sound to the aquarium. Sure... you were going by yourself but... So what. You didn’t particularly have many friends, nor a partner in your life. But so what? You were an introvert natrually and a social gathering over five people where never your thing. 

You had just made it to the ferry docks. As always, you were fifteen minutes early. You couldn’t bear to be late, especially since you considered “on-time” to be late. You were sitting on a public bench facing the sound. Dozens of other people have started to gather around the same place as you. You were just about to take one of your favorite books out of our bag when someone approached you.

“Do you mind if I sit?” You saw a man standing before you. He had a pleasant smile. A soft one that just barely met his eyes. You took one second too long to peer at him.

“Uh-...” You tore your gaze from his soft brown hair and to his polished shoes. They were out of style yet he somehow managed to pull it off, “Yea-.. I mean no...! Help yourself.” You tried to return his smile but you were far more awkward about it. This man had some strange sense of fashion. He looked oddly in place, however, he seemed like he was trying to live in a time long since past. 

“Are you waiting for the ferry too?” He asked, making simple conversation to fill the void of silence. 

You glanced at him quickly a second time and made a nervous little laugh. His dark complexion matched his brown eyes hidden behind perfectly circular glasses, “Oh... yes.” You remember you had your ticket in your hand, “It shouldn't be much longer until it arrives,” 

The stranger nodded his head slowly, “Have you ever been on a ferry before?” You nodded your head to his question, “Ah, first time for me. They don’t have ferries where I’m from.” He said with a cool expression.

He seemed chatty for a stranger. Most of the time when strangers tried talking to you, you’d brush them off. But this man was lucky that you thought he was rather... stunning in the looks department. That, and he seemed rather harmless as of right now. So you indulged in his conversation, “Where are you from?” You asked. 

The man paused only slightly then turned himself to face you. He held out his left hand for you to take. You were hesitant but you still reached out, “Alastor,” He said, “I’m from New Orleans. I’m guessing you’re a local?” You wouldn’t have ever guessed that, he didn’t have any kind of southern twang or drawl to his tone.

You shooked his hand but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing a little at his question, “No, no,” You waved your hand a little, “Uh- aha... I’m (Y/N). And I’m not from here, but my family and I use to come here all the time for summer vacations.”

“Well, it’s certainly a lovely place to visit. I’m here for business though so I can’t say I’ve gotten the real experience of it all yet. Today was my day off, however, and I thought I’d go see this aquarium one of my friends keeps telling me to go to. She’s rather annoying about it, truly, spoiled even and quite the nagging little thing. But she is my friend after all and I’d rather not deal with the consequences of not listening to her.” 

There was a moment there went you felt your heart stop for a minute, “That’s... really ironic.” You said slowly.

“Oh? You have a bossy friend too?” He jested with a smile. 

You laughed for a second then shook your head, “No, I mean that it’s ironic that you’re going to the aquarium,” You paused for a second then reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. You showed Alastor and said, “I’m going too.” 

He peered at the e-ticket on your phone, the pushed his glasses up on his nose with a deep laugh, “What a small world!” He laughed, then laughed some more, “How truly ironic indeed!” Then without a second to waste, he faced you once again then asked, “Would you like to go together?”

The question startled you. You didn’t expect that. He was very bold, wasn’t he? You had only just met and he was asking to spend probably what would be the rest of the day with you. You were flustered suddenly, then you were tongue-tied, lastly, you cracked your voice as you answered, “S-Sure! Yea- um--....” You felt your cheeks turn a little pink, “Sorry. It’s just... That was unexpected.” Just as you said that the loud horn of the ferry screamed as it pulled into the docks. 

Alastor stood up while smiling down to you, “Life wouldn’t be life if what you expected happened all the time.” 

He then held out his hand, offering to help you up from the bench. You took a moment, sitting there and taking everything in for what it was. Alastor stood before you, looking as though he was some kind of mathematician, or professor, now that you got a good look at him. His red tie was tucked behind a brown sweater vest that stopped just shy of his belt. His hand was offered to you, while the wind dusted his brown hair around in the breeze. And that smile on his face, it was soft yet firm enough to show that he was pleased to help you up. 

So you decided then... why the hell not? He was right, life wouldn’t be the same if it was exactly like what you expected. You took Alastor’s hand and pulled yourself to your feet. The two of you chatted while boarding the ferry, and then stood beside each other while leaning along the guard rails of the top deck.

The both of you talked about all kinds of things. You found out that Alastor was some kind of internet personality, not really. He had a podcast he ran and owned with some friends of his. It was apparently very popular and well known, though not that well known because you’ve never heard of it before. And to say that didn’t hurt Alastor’s ego a little would have been a lie. Apparently, Alastor also had a strong taste for liquor, because at one point he went to the ferry’s indoor bar and came back with two rum on the rocks.

You told him it was only noon, to which he replied, “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” And laughed before taking a sip of his drink. You decided to have the one he got you and told yourself it’d only be one which Alastor stayed true to. He didn’t wander off for another drink once he finished the one he had. There was another point that you learned that Alastor had the habit of ignoring his phone, to the instance where he got annoyed with it and turned it off. It seemed he only wanted to focus on talking to you and listening to what you had to say.

Alastor and you talked the whole ferry ride, which was just under an hour long. And when you docked, you both walked side by side down the three and a half blocks to the aquarium. It wasn’t a massive place, but it was a good size with a decent amount of animals. You originally came here with the idea of looking for inspiration within sea life. For you were an author, after all, writing stories for a living came with its ups and downs. For instance, right now, your much-needed vacation wasn’t really a vacation. The current book you were working on took place in late century seaside town, much like this one. And you had run into the worse possible writer’s block you’ve ever been in. 

As you and Alastor had finished passing the entry gates and showing your tickets, you wondered why Alastor would want to come here with you. Maybe because he realized how terribly awkward it would be if you continued to cross paths all day. You also thought about how you wouldn't be able to focus on working with him around now. You also didn’t really want to out yourself, or your current story. 

But that would soon be unavoidable. You and Alastor had just made it to the open exhibits of the aquarium. You had stopped on an old wooden bridge to briefly look out at a beautiful koi pond. Alastor leaned over slightly while resting his arms on the bridge railing. He had a soft smile that was barely on his lips, “This one oddly reminds me of home,” He sighed. 

You learned along the railing as well, looking over the swampy like pond. It lily pads all over, with a dark green water filled with dead trees and moss. You couldn’t see them, but you could hear the bullfrogs chirping away. Seeing it gave your a sudden surge of inspiration. Something about it made you get several ideas for your book. You couldn’t let them slip away, so you reached into your bag and grabbed your notebook.

While you became lost in your own world, scribbling down idea after idea, Alastor quietly watched you. It wasn’t in a way that you noticed, because he’d only take a side glance here or there. But after a moment or so, he finally asked, “Forgot something to add to your grocery list?” 

It was meant to be a joke but it went right over your head (Mush to Alastor’s dismay).

“O-oh..” You then laughed weakly, “No... It’s for a story I’m working on.” 

Alastor turned to face you slightly while still leaning on the rail, “Oh, like an author?”

You took a dry swallow then glanced away and shrugged, “Yea,” You didn’t want to egg him on. But of course, he asked anyways. 

“Are you published?” He seemed genuinely interested. Yet there was a reason you wanted to avoid it. Oftentimes when you told people about your books, the general reception wasn't that good. There was a reason you wrote under a pen name. 

However, Alastor wasn’t from around here, and you weren’t on New York Time’s Best Selling List yet, and probably never would be. So there was a chance he wouldn’t know or ever heard of your books. 

So you took the chance and said, “Yeah. I’m the author of Sea Rise.”

“Oooh,” Shit. “That book series about the pirates?” Dammit. 

You felt your cheeks burn as you took in a deep breath and nodded your head, “You’ve heard of them?” You wouldn’t look at him though. You just kept your gaze on some turtle resting on a log. 

“Yeah, never read them,” He gave a slight chuckle, “But the girl I work with-”

“You said her name is Charlie, right?”

“Yes- Well, she reads ‘em. She’s a big fan. I’m under the assumption that it’s about fictional pirates?” 

You took in a small breath then sighed, “Pretty much. It’s... not that amazing or anything. It’s okay.” You noticed that Alastor pushed off the rail and started to walk again, but slower this time.

“Tell me about it.” His words surprised you enough to look at him with a shocked expression. He laughed at you while giving a small wave of his hand, “Only if you want to. I’m sure you can’t talk much about spoilers.”

You blinked, then let out a shaky laugh, “I-I don’t know. It’s... A long story. This is for my fourth installation.”

He hummed with a slight chuckle, “Well it’s a good thing there is a snack bar over there.” He pointed to one not that far away, “And plenty of places to sit too.” 

There was something that flickered around in your chest. You felt butterflies you always wrote about in your stories. You peered at Alastor finding it hard to stare at his face. You glanced up from his shoes and got caught in that tilt in his smirk. Heat ran to your cheeks and spread across your nose, you gave a sharp nod of your head then awkwardly stuttered out, “O-okay!” With maybe a little too much excitement. Who knew that today, of all days... You’d run into someone like him. 

[haruharuz]

FAQ

No one asked I just want to add this for ease of access in the future ! Lots of rambling ahead. Everything from personal to strip club shit.

Race/Ethnicity?

White as shit. I don't know much about my background (?) But most people I meet think I'm from Russia or Scotland. I'm very pale! I met someone like two days ago who thought I was mixed ?? I was like good sir do you see how white I am. I look like a bag of powdered sugar.

Religious views?

None. I was raised Baptist & Pentecostal back and forth. I am no longer religious and believe in energies and that everyone is entitled to their own views.

Political views?

FIRMLY leftist. Anti-racism, anti-homophobia. Very open to listening to views, but I have a few I won't even think about budging on.

Languages?

English : C2 (fluent)

Korean : A2 (Beginner-intermediate)

Japanese : A1 (absolute beginner)

Spanish : A1 (absolute beginner)

I know the tiniest bit of dutch (only reading) and can recognize a few mandarin characters and some German words.

Thoughts on white clubs vs black clubs?

These can also be referred to as gentleman's club / urban clubs. I've worked in both. Both are good. But if you run into an urban/majority black club with ugly braids, no skill etc you're gonna look like a fool. Stay respectful and open to advice always.

Gentleman's clubs are "soft hustles" and often are more about sitting with a client, getting to know them, and selling a VIP if possible. There's often lots of women with sugar daddies here. Couples will come in more often looking for a unicorn. Competition is at a moderate level unless it's a higher class club, in which you're going to be hustling for your life. Stage tips can be mediocre, while lap dance and VIP money thrives.

Urban clubs are a "hard hustle" meaning youre going to do a LOT of dancing and it takes lots of skill. Generally these clubs are better for section work & stage work. While stage money is good you're less likely to sell a VIP from just talking and having a few drinks. More likely to meet rain makers & do table dances! The reason it's called hard is because of how much work goes into the amount of skill you need here. If you can't shake your ass, make anything jiggle, grind, know absolutely ZERO on the pole etc then a busy urban club is going to be difficult for you.

How do you learn pole?

Girls at the club teach you or you go on YouTube/IG and try it. Start with the basics (hook, jamilla, climb, pole sit, chair spin) and work your way up. The closer you are to the pole the faster you will spin. Remember that.

How to help bruising?

Soak body in Epsom salts, apply arnica gel to bruises, foam roll entire body. But overall your body just gets used to it over time.

Do you have to be pretty/hot to dance?

Yes. You can try doing it but if the club accepts you and you don't take care of yourself, you're likely going to run straight into being offered 304 money. Your body will change throughout dancing though.

Strip club pet peeve?

Being told what to do by women who are 304s. Nothing wrong with being a 304, but in the club, I've seen girls do the absolute most for bare minimum prices. Fucking up the game. And then they tell me I need to "get out there and make money".

How do you get motivation?

I don't. I just do whatever I need to get done anyways if I can.

Razor burn help?

I use a Venus Gillette pubic hair razor & serum. I stopped getting razor burn all together once I started using that.

What's with all the SheIn stuff?

I simply like the site. It's very useful for those who need things on a budget. Ive bought plenty of lingerie, bikinis and more from there. I'm not sponsored at all, though.

What do I need to start dancing?

Money. You need heels (stripper heels, not normal heels. You will get HURT in normal heels). Three bikinis, a dress, g strings, t back thongs, baby wipes, dry spray deodorant, perfume, body spray, etc. Oh and two bags and a lock. One bag to carry with you and one to go in a locker.

Oh, and confidence.

[bill-y]

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄

Peeta Mellark x male reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part three: Click this, Rumtumtugger.

Part four: you're here, jennyanydots

Part five: Clicky dicky here, buddy

Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass

Those words left my mouth without much thought. I wasn't thinking of the damned consequences at the moment.

Behind me was Kunal, an iron grip on my leg, bawling his eyes out. "Y/N! NO! NO! YOU CAN'T GO!" he pleaded, his cries getting louder by the second. 

My hand ruffled his strawberry blonde hair, messing it up. "Let go, Nal," I said in the calmest tone I could muster. He shook his head, tears running down his cheeks, I cleared my dry throat, gulping down nothing. My mouth was dry as if I just ate a handful of salt, which was honestly a luxury.

My face remained stoic, the moment I show a sign of distress I know the people in the Capitol would eat it up like good bread. It entertains them, our suffering entertains them. 

His hands slipped from my leg, gripping on my pants before he was finally taken away from me. "Up you go, Owl eyes," said Gale, his voice trying hard to remain steady. Beside him was Katniss, who was holding Kunal by the shoulders. She nodded, "Good luck, Y/n,"

I nodded, before looking back at the temporary stage. "Oh well, Bravo!" Effie exclaimed. "That's the spirit of the games!"

She was thrilled, finally seeing some action from this district. It made a pit in my stomach, I clenched my jaw. If only the roles were reversed, Capitol people fighting for their lives instead of us.

Oh, how funny that would be.

I strode to the stage, trying my best to look collected. The foreboding feeling in my stomach only grew with each step I took, my hands sweating as if they've just been dipped into water once I finally took my place.

"Do tell us your name," Effie said, her grin widening as she nodded, encouraging me to talk. It took all the will power I had to not strangle her.

"Y/n Greyback," I replied dryly, hoping it would set her off.

“I bet my buttons that was your brother. Don’t want him to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let’s give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!” she trilled, making me clench my fists.

Her words were met with silence. No one clapped, not a noise can be heard. Even the ones who would usually bet on who would wound up as a tribute didn't do anything.

I held back a smile, a surge of hope flowing through me. This was the most rebellious thing they could do without getting punishment of any sort. Silence.

Silence doesn't mean fear or that we're cowards. It meant that we do not accept this, we do not condone.

Just as my father always said, one does not need to shout to make a change.

The next thing that happened was even more of a surprise. Maybe it was because I was a son of a "rebel", maybe they pitied my family or maybe it was because I talked to the mayor's daughter.

Just one, then two, then a group almost all of the crowd put the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and held it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.

My tense hands relaxed a sense of calm washing over me. We were united in a strange way, something I thought would only happen in my dreams.

"Look at him! Look at this one!" Hollered Haymitch, throwing an arm around my shoulder. His arm was quite heavy, understandable, he's a wreck. "I like him!"

The scent of alcohol from his breath was strong, or maybe he just smelled of alcohol. "Lots of. . ." He paused, trying to think of a word.

I cringed as he slightly swayed around, trying my best to not touch him. "Spunk!" he declared triumphantly. "More than you!"

He released me, staggering to the front of the stage. "More than you!" He declared once more, pointing towards the camera.

Was he talking to the audience? Or maybe he was addressing the Capitol. I wish it's the latter, that would be funny.

Just as he opened his mouth to continue, he fell down the stage, knocking himself unconscious in the process. I snickered slightly, my face scrunching up right after.

Thankfully, the cameras were all pointed towards him, watching as they whisked him away into a stretcher. I took this moment to glare back into the distance, watching the scenery.

There was the hill that me, Katniss and Gale were just at. It looked so peaceful, contrary to my day.

"What an exciting day!" Effie warbled, trying to fix her tilted wig. It looked ridiculous. Why would Capitol people, no, why would anyone wear that?

It looks ugly, like a beaten up squirrel. Though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't eye-catching, though, beaten up squirrels are also eye-catching. “But more excitement to come! It’s time to choose our next tribute!” she continued, putting one hand to the second bowl.

Her fingertips grab the first slip it encounters. I hoped it wasn't Gale or Katniss. I didn't want to kill them, not that I'd ever stand a chance.

Katniss was extremely skilled with the bow, she could probably shoot my head from miles away. Gale, on the other hand, was strong, compared to him, I had the strength of a broken twig.

"Peeta Mellark," She read. Oh no. Why him? Of all the people in this district. His father just "introduced" me to him this morning, not just that, I knew him.

I watched him make his way up the stage, I had a clear look at him this time. He had a stocky build, medium height,  ashy blonde hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the situation registered on his face, though you could tell that he was alarmed by the way his blue eyes looked.

Like a prey knowing it'd be hunted.

Despite this, he still manages to climb up the small flight of stairs calmly.

Effie Trinket then asked for volunteers, but no one spoke up. He has two older brothers, I've seen them. But one is probably too old to volunteer, and the other just wouldn't. This was standard family devotion, what I'd done was a radical thing.

The mayor began to say the same old words he always says every reaping day. I couldn't help but think, why him?

I remember it all too well, that day, it was raining up a storm, the wind was howling. My mother and my brother were left at home, I was tasked to find food for us since my mother couldn't bear to show her face to the district.

How could she? Her husband has been executed for rebellion against the Capitol. One of the peacekeepers found weapons under his possession and he was killed. He managed to convince them to spare us, though sometimes I wished it hadn't worked.

Within a week of his death, we began to lose money, and therefore, food. Nobody wanted to help us, nobody wanted to associate with the family of a tyrant.

Shame, the family name bared shame. My mother didn't have the gall to go out and sell any of my father's things, my brother was too young to even understand what was going on.

I was angry. How could they have just taken everything away from us that easy? Who gave them the right to do that?

But at that moment, I couldn't afford to sit still and wallow in my resentment. That was a luxury I couldn't afford. not many could afford it either.

Starvation was a fairly common thing in district 12, though the amount of covering up the peacekeepers do no one a favour and fools no one.

There I was, a boy who wasn't even old enough to be registered into the pile walking around in the harsh weather, stripped away from my dignity and whatever money we had.

I found myself in the Mellark's bakery, being told off by the baker's wife, who was tired of having brats from the Seam paw through her trash. I would've screamed back then, but I didn't want the Peacekeepers called on me.

So I left without another word, sitting at a tree for some sort of cover from the harsh rain.  I remember the snorts of the pigs beside me, and that was when I realized I'm no better than cattle; the people of Panim were no better than cattle.

My knees buckles as I collapsed onto the wet grass, shuddering from the cold and the harsh reality. Maybe I had gone insane then, but I vaguely remember talking to the pigs, ranting to them.

They didn't listen, they were too busy rolling in the mud. Looking back, I find this extremely funny, but maybe that's because I don't want to pity myself.

I didn't even notice a boy until the pigs actually rose to eat the pieces of bread thrown at them. I stared at him for a long while, mainly because of the burnt bread, the crust was scorched black.

But a red mark on his cheekbone caught my attention. Had they hit him for burning the bread? My parents have never hit me, I couldn't even imagine what that would feel like.

He took one look at the bakery as if checking if the coast was clear before he turned back to the pigs. Though instead of feeding the pigs he tossed the loaves of bread to me.

I watched him walk towards the bakery and closing the kitchen door tightly behind him. All I could do was stay silent, before shoving them up to my shirt, muttering a broken thank you as I ran home.

The loaves had cooled by the time I got home, but that didn't matter. We had something to eat. Mother looked at me, relieved I didn't die. She hugged me, apologizing.

I didn't care though, we had food, that's what's important.

And for the first time in weeks, we had a proper meal.

I was thankful, the fact that he'd probably burnt the bread on purpose never occurred to me until I crawled onto the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. An act of kindness, someone still cared.

It was as if spring came overnight, fluffy clouds, blue sky, the warm sweet air. At school, we would always catch each other's gazes. I felt a tad bit bad, his cheek was swollen and his eye had blackened.

I couldn't come up to say thank you, instead, I watched him from a distance, contemplating whether I should. When I went to fetch Nal, out eyes met once more, I was about to mouth a thank you until Nal tugged my shirt.

He handed me a dandelion. He's always loved flowers. His love for it made me realize how I would get the food we needed. All that time I and my father spent in the forest won't be for nothing.

To this day, I still feel as if I owe my family's life to him. I had honestly given up, but he gave me something. Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread and the dandelion, both gave me hope.

Maybe if I had said thank you all those years ago I wouldn't be feeling so guilty now. I could always say it but something about thanking him whilst I'm practically holding a knife against his throat seems dishonest.

The mayor finished his speech, telling us to shake hands. His were as warm and firm as those loaves of bread. He squeezed me as if reassuring me. Or maybe those were just nervous spasms.

We turn back to the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.

There are twenty-four of us fighting in that arena, as grim as it is, let's just hope someone kills him before I'm forced to. I don't wanna kill the reason I've survived all those years.

Word count: 2026

Tags:

@nin3s

Sorry for the late update my exams are next week and im rushing to finish my requirements at school. :"

[thatesqcrush]

Christmas Confessions

Rafael Barba x Reader. @itsjustmyfantasyroom requested: Hey lovely, may I please have a Bryan Kneef or Rafael Barba or both 😉 x reader for your holiday bingo for the mistletoe square. Semi public would be delicious 😘

Ask & ye shall receive. I went with Barba. This is super fluff with a hint of sexy. Timeline wise this is after The Undiscovered Country, but Rafael never left - pretty current to s.22 (spoiler warning: with Kat having joined and Carisi is an ADA.)

WC: 1235

--

"You have no choice, you have to come.” Sonny commented to his mentor who was busily scribbling on a yellow notepad.

"You really are like a dog with a bone, Carisi. I said no, I'm not up to it. Besides, I have back logged reports to work on that Hadid said that she needed ASAP.” Rafael replied as he continued working, not bothering to look up at the younger ADA.

"Don't give me that crap, Barba. I'm not buying it. You're just looking for any excuse to not go.” Sonny replied, crossing his arms against his chest. "Just come for an hour; pop in, get some punch and say hi. Besides…" he continued, "Y/N is there now."

Barba grunted before taking a sip of his lowball glass filled with scotch. "What makes you think I want to see Y/N?"

"Barba, you seem to forget that I used to be a detective. And now, I’m an ADA. if I can't tell what's going in someone's head then I am doing a pretty shitty job. Sonny replied honestly. "She doesn't know.” He added for good measure, not wanting his friend to stress.

Rafael looked up at Sonny, letting out a deep exhale as he did so. "If I go will I get you off my back?"

Sonny cheered. "Carmen owes me twenty bucks; she told me that I'd never be able to convince you to come."

"It's great to know that my emotional well-being feeds gambling addicts.” Barba muttered sardonically. He looked at the pile of reports he had to finish. “I’ll go for one drink, say hello, and come back.” He told himself as he grabbed his phone, camel wool coat and scarf.

**

The 16th precinct - SVU division was brightly decorated with gaudy holiday decorations that looked like they came from way back when God walked the Earth. Holiday music filled the room as people chatted and laughed.

Rafael walked in slowly, following behind Sonny. Rafael scanned the room in search of you and he sucked in breath as you appeared in his line of vision. You wore a snug red top which accentuated the swells of your breasts and a black leather mini skirt – the look complete with knee high boots and a Santa hat adorned on your head. You were busy chatting with Kat and Fin when you caught Rafael out of the corner of your eye.

You smiled brightly at Sonny and Rafael, waving them in as you did so. "Merry Christmas guys! Sonny, I see you managed to drag Rafael out of his office. Carmen owes you what? Twenty-bucks now?"

Sonny laughed, "Yeah, something like that."

"Care for a drink? I made my famous coquito.” You turned your attention to back to Rafael.

"You made coquito?” Rafael questioned; his eyes were wide. “Uh, yeah that would be great. I haven’t had that in ages.” Rafael found himself suddenly parched. He assumed it was his nerves getting the best of him. He watched you saunter off, your hips swaying suggestively, and Rafael wondered if you knew how much sex appeal you dripped on a day to day basis. He hadn’t meant to fall for you – the fresh detective that came straight from the Academy since SVU had been so short-staffed after Sonny left to join the DA’s office.

**

What was one drink – turned into many more. Hours later, Rafael found himself enjoying the holiday party, though he assumed it was mostly due to the fact that the coquito was spiked with a lot of rum. Watching his colleagues get drunk around him was amusing. He had always had a high tolerance for alcohol, so it took him longer to feel any effect, especially since the drinks were served in bitty paper cups. But still, he felt pleasantly relaxed.

You made your way over to Rafael who was lounging on the sofa that was brought out from the breakroom. You plopped yourself into his lap, but your balance was off. Rafael was quick to steady you onto his lap. You scooched a bit to make yourself more comfortable and Rafael silently groaned.

"Whoa!” You giggled. "Thanks Rafael."

"Not a problem.” Rafael replied flustered. "Too much to drink detective?"

"No, not at all. High tolerance runs in my family. We're champs.” You rambled and Barba arched a brow at you. He had had more than one conversation with you to know that was a lie if he ever heard one.

"Sure…" he agreed, knowing disagreeing with someone under the influence always led to bad repercussions. You snuggled herself against his chest, your legs dangling over his.

"I just love the holidays.” You mused. "What about you Rafael?"

"Uh, not necessarily.” Rafael replied as honestly as he could. “It’s become over commercialized and it’s true meaning has been lost. And as a lapsed Catholic –”

"That's a shame.” You replied mournfully cutting him off. "Oh!" you suddenly interjected, your previous thought and emotion quickly forgotten. "What did you ask for this Christmas?"

"Nothing.” Rafael replied. "You?"

You chose to ignore his question by further probing his lack of want this upcoming holiday season. "Were you a naughty boy this year Rafael Barba?" You wagged your finger, and made a disappointed sound.

Rafael coughed, startled by your loaded question. "No, I was… fine; my usual self."

You pondered his comment thoughtfully. "Well, then you deserve something for your efforts."

"Such as?" Rafael wondered out loud, his brow cocked once more in your direction. He hadn't realized it until that very moment, but you had placed his hands on the tops of your thighs. He was positive that you could hear feel his pulse racing but apparently you either didn't notice or didn't care. He was unsure and preferred to not misinterpret your actions.

You bopped him on the chin and pointed above. Rafael moved his gaze from you to where you were pointing and sure enough, mistletoe had been hung from the ceiling.

Rafael returned his gaze towards yours, feeling his cheeks burn. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. The kiss caught Rafael by surprise initially, but soon he found himself kissing you back. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance and you opened your mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You let out a low moan as your lips tangled passionately. You ran your hands through his salt and pepper hair, gripping the back of his head. He nipped at your bottom lip which earned him another moan, this one more earnest.

Silence reigned the room as the onslaught of lookers watched in shock. The gossip tonight would be tomorrow's headlines around the precinct.

You pulled away and lowered your lips to his ear, "“Like I said, you deserve something for being such a good boy.” Rafael didn’t miss how your voice was laced with lust.

He chuckled as you rested your forehead against his. "Excuse me?"

"I know about your feelings for me; I've known for a while.” You confessed before pressing a quick peck on his lips.

"How about we get out of here?" You suggested. “I could use some fresh air.” Rafael nodded, helping you up. Rafael helped you with your coat and then grabbed his. You both left, hand in hand and the party continued to stare dumbfounded at what they had just seen.

"Damn.” Sonny replied as he took another swig of his beer. “Carmen owes me a lot more than twenty bucks."

FIN.

**

Tags: @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @rampantmuses​ @jazzyjoi​ @caked-crusader​ @rachelxwayne​ @prurientpuddlejumper​ @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @bisexual-dreamer02​ @madamsnape921​ @averyhotchner​

[secretlyatargaryen]

I really am surprised that when I went into ATLA I knew absolutely nothing about Zuko as a character other than that everyone on tumblr kept saying he had the greatest redemption arc ever. I didn’t even know if it was like, a villain to hero redemption arc or a jerk to less of a jerk redemption arc or a redemption equals death arc or whatever (and I’m not going to get into how one of the problems with how tumblr discusses redemption arc Requirements is that there is never an acknowledgement that there are so MANY different ways to write a redemption arc), but I did know that there was a redemption arc, so I did pick up on a lot of the early groundwork that the show lays to make Zuko sympathetic even as a villain, but even so there were some things that I didn’t expect that ATLA does in interesting ways, and one of them is the reveal of how Zuko got his scar.

The scar is brought into the narrative early on, first by virtue of the fact that it’s hard to not notice, although it’s kinda easy to dismiss at first as just something that makes him look scary and like a villain, but by the third episode we’re given some context for what the scar means to Zuko through his confrontation with Zhao.

Zhao: You can't compete with me. I have hundreds of war ships under my command and you? You're just a banished prince. No home, no allies. Your own father doesn't even want you.

Zuko: You're wrong! Once I deliver the Avatar to my father, he will welcome me home with honor, and restore my rightful place on the throne!

Zhao: If your father really wanted you home, he would have let you return by now, Avatar or no Avatar. But in his eyes you are a failure and a disgrace to the Fire Nation.

Zuko: That's not true.

Zhao: You have the scar to prove it.

Zuko: Maybe you'd like one to match!

Zhao: Is that a challenge?

Zuko: An Agni Kai. At sunset.

Zhao: Very well. It's a shame your father won't be here to watch me humiliate you. I guess your uncle will do.

Zhao walks away. Front view of Zuko, with Iroh in the background.

Iroh: Prince Zuko, have you forgotten what happened last time you dueled a master?

Zuko: I will never forget.

At this point, I don’t know what an agni kai is but it sounds like some macho BS, and given how much of Zuko’s interaction with Zhao is a dick-swinging contest, it’s easy to assume that this is more of Zuko just being an Angry Villain. There are some interesting things that are revealed in this conversation, though.

Zhao is competing with Zuko for Angriest Villain, which is usually a good set up for Villain Redemption. So far, so good.

Zuko’s a prince but he’s been banished. His father doesn’t want him. Zuko disagrees. Loudly and Angrily. Zuko is most definitely wrong. We get a feel for why Zuko is doing what he’s doing.

Wow Zhao way to rub salt into the wound. The show has already told us that Zuko is a teenager, but this is another scene that emphasizes just how young Zuko actually is. We see Zuko disrespect Zhao in typical spoiled royal teenager fashion but then we get this adult being unnecessarily cruel to a kid, including expressing joy at the idea of humiliating him in front of his parent/parental figure. This also emphasizes how little respect Zuko gets within even his own nation as royalty.

Zuko’s whole persona of “I’m the prince and also a scary villain and I definitely do not need to calm down, uncle!” is not really working out too well for him.

We learn the scar is somehow connected to his status as disgraced royalty.

Okay, so an agni kai is a duel, and that’s definitely how he got the scar.

The story behind the scar is vaguely alluded to here. What I assumed going into this based on this conversation was something like, Zuko challenged a master to a duel and lost (gaining the injury which resulted in the scar) and was thus disgraced and banished.

What’s kind of interesting about this is that upon my watch I assumed that this was something Zuko had done wrong. Since so much of Zuko’s early personality is I Am Ready To Fight, it’s easy to assume from this conversation that what happened was that Zuko challenged the wrong person to prove he was big and bad, faced someone who was more big and bad, and lost. Macho BS. I also assumed it had something to do with succession because Zuko really cares about "his throne" and was politically disgraced as a result of what happened, so I imagined that Zuko tried to go for a petty power grab or something. Probably the kind of thing that happens all the time in Evil Fire Land.

This is standard character building, especially for a sympathetic villain, or an antihero, or just a jaded character. Sometimes this literary device is referred to as “the wound,” or the thing in a character’s backstory that drives their psychology and inner conflict. It’s usually done in either one of two ways.

Character was a Terrible Person and made a Terrible Mistake and is Paying for It

Character was once a Bright and Sunny Innocent Child but then Everything Turned to Shit

What’s interesting about how ATLA reveals this with Zuko is that they do a kind of bait and switch, where it appears to be the first one but is actually revealed to be the second one. For other examples of this trope in the show, Iroh is pretty clearly the first one, and Aang is pretty clearly the second one.

Remember how I thought that Zuko had challenged the wrong person and lost because he’s a macho idiot teenager?

Gather ‘round and I shall tell you the tale of how Macho Idiot Teenager was once an Adorable Ponytail Unicorn

Here it comes, the Macho BS. You are a Baby step down.

“You know I don’t really think that we should be using new recruits as human meat shields. That’s kinda evil.”

Well, that's reasonable, actually. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, though!

In Evil Fire Land we solve all of our conflicts with a Duel to the Death, of course! Fight a military general? Yeah, I got this! Ohmygod, calm down, Prince Fight Everyone

What’s happening now, Oh my lord

You know, I don’t really think -

Sir, this is a child.

That’s...really intense.

So yeah. I thought Zuko got banished for fighting but he actually got banished because he didn’t fight. I thought he got into a fight because he was being an idiot but he actually was being a Good Person. Obviously I didn’t think the Fire Lord was going to be a nice person but you gotta be a huge dick to burn the face of a crying, surrendering thirteen year old just for having morals. Also it’s your son and heir and you do it in front of a huge crowd. This is before we find out about all the Bad Shit going on in the First Fire Nation Family which Kinda Explains It.

This is one of, if not the most intensely disturbing scene in the show and it manages to be that in a show that’s entirely bloodless (take note, Game of Thrones) and doesn’t even show you the actual scarring scene. It helps make Zuko sympathetic but not just in a This Character Has Suffered way or a This Character Was Once a Nice Person way (because the indications that Zuko has more to him than just macho badness are peppered throughout the first season), it also helps explain Zuko’s personality and motivations and you can actually see that the thirteen year old boy and the bald ponytail jerk are the same character, whereas lesser characterization would increase the contrast between the two characters for dramatic effect. The effect here is actually more dramatic. One of the things that makes Zuko redeemable is that we aren't just privy to how he became the way he is, we get to see that he is actually still the same character in a lot of ways as the child who spoke up in defense of his nation's soldiers, and that his bad actions are motivated not just by that deep emotional wound but by extreme psychological conditioning. I've talked a lot about Zuko and cognitive dissonance because it's strongly tied to what makes him a believable and interesting character.

Also Zuko didn’t just not fight because it wouldn’t be honorable to fight dear old dad, his father actually manufactures the whole situation so that there was really no way Zuko was going to be able to fight back. I’ve written about how Ozai is manipulative before because I don’t see a lot of discussion of that and the show gets it across in some subtle ways, and this action by Ozai is as manipulative as it is brutally violent. That’s something that hits you as you learn more about the dynamics in Zuko’s family. Zuko isn’t just sympathetic because he is a Sad Woobie who Once was Innocent and Good, his family really did a number on him, oh my god.

[beebubbly]

Ever After

Prince Ethan x MC  

A twist on A Cinderella story 

SUMMURY: Casey, a beautiful young woman, is treated as a servant by her stepmother and stepsisters. One day, she crosses paths with Prince Ethan, heir to the kingdom, who falls in love with her.

There are those who swear that Perrult’s telling of Cinderella with its fairy godmother and magic pumpkins would be closer to the truth than many of the other versions, one including the legendary slippers to be made of fur.

Perhaps its time to set the record straight; what’s that phase?

Once upon a time...

There lived a young girl who loved her father very much. Her father was a merchant who went abroad and often brought a tribute back for his darling daughter. Casey missed him terribly when he was away, but knew he would always return. 

Casey’s mother had passed away not long after Casey was born. Her father had started to believe it was time for change, hopefully for the better. Upon his travels he met and fell in love with Baroness Rodmilla de Ghent and the two married quickly making their little family complete with the addition of Rodmilla and her two stepdaughters.

But like all stories, there is an unhappy event. One day as Casey’s father was leaving for a new trade, he had a heart attack and sadly passed away. It would be ten years before another man who would enter her life, a man who was still a boy in many, many ways.

In the years that passed since her father’s passing Casey became more of a servant than a member of the family. She worked hard, allowing the hard chores as a distraction from the grief of losing her father.

Luckily, she still had the other servants who she had grown up with and loved like family. Unfortunately, Rodmilla was used to the luxurious lifestyle and the household fell into debt, one of the servants- Elijah had been sold in attempt to pay off some of the debt.

Casey found herself in the forest that was near the house, she picked apples for the household to enjoy. Casey picked an apple and was studying it when the sound of hooves caught her attention. The palace guards rode past her paying her no heed.

Once satisfied with the apples Casey made her way back to the house when a horses whining caught her attention. Curiously, she paused in her walk.

“Come on, you stupid beast” she heard a man’s voice follow.

She watched as a man on the back of one of the families horses jumped the hedge and galloped near.

“Oh, no, you don’t” Casey shook her head running towards the man, dropping most of the apples from her hold.

Taking one of the apples Casey threw it hard at the man effectively knocking him from the horse. The man tumbled from horseback and fell into the hay. Casey grabbed more apples from the ground.

“Thief!” she yelled at the man, attacking him with apples. “This will teach you for trying to steal my fathers horse!”

Another satisfying hit to the man, who attempted to scrambled to his feet, a cloak covered his head and face.

“Please, my own slipped his shoe. I have no choice” The man said as Casey attacked him with more apples.

“And our choice is what? To let you?” Casey asked him.

“I was borrowing it!” 

“Get out, or I’ll wake the house” Casey warned him pelting him with another hit.

“Ow!” 

The man managed to get the cloak from his head, and stand up enough for Casey to see his handsome face, dark hair and blue eyes. Imminently, she recognised him to be the prince. With a gasp, Casey fell to her knees, dropping the apples.

“Forgive me, your highness. I did not see you” Casey said bowing her head to the ground, not daring to look up at the man before her. Prince Ethan looked down, realising he was wearing the royal coat of arms- clearly visible.

“Your aim would suggest otherwise” Ethan said, rubbing at the welt that was forming on his head. She had a powerful arm.

“And for that I know I must die” 

“Then er-” Ethan hesitated, he was not about to be caught by his guards. “speak of this to no-one and er- I shall be lenient”

Ethan climbed back onto the horse, he glanced down at the young woman. She had long dark brown- almost black hair with a thin braid. She glanced up at him for a split second.

“We have other horses, Highness” she told him. “Younger, if that is your wish”

 “I wish for nothing more than to be free of my gilded cage.” he found himself telling her. “For your silence”

He tipped a number of gold coins onto the ground in front of her, with one last look at the young woman he clicked his tongue and rode off.

Casey looked up watching the dark haired prince ride off with her horse. She wondered what had brought him to  run away from home. Glancing down at the coins before her, Casey sucked in a deep breath.

There was a lot of money, quite possibly enough to buy back Elijah! But the only problem was her stepmother, if she caught wind of money- it would be gone in a heartbeat. Casey picked up the gold coins, carefully tucking them into her dress before she stood and started to pick up the apples.

This might just be her lucky day, first the prince speared her life and now she would be able to help her family, with Elijah back, his girlfriend would be reunited with him and that would mean the world to her.

Casey made her way quickly to the house once she finished picking up the apples. She had just entered when she heard her name being yelled by her stepmother.

"Coming!" Casey called back, tipping the apples into a basket.

"Ooh, she's in one of her moods." Jackie warned her as she entered the room with the two older women.

"Did the sun rise in the east?" Sienna asked looking at Casey's bright smile.

"Yes, Sienna, it did" Casey said tipping the gold coins onto the table. "And it is going to be a beautiful day."

The two women gasped at the sight, taking a step closer to the table.

"Look at all those feathers! Child, where did you get this?" Jackie asked.

"From an angel of mercy. And I know just what to do with them." Casry smiled at Sienna.

"Elijah?"

"If the baroness can sell your boyfriend to pay her taxes, then these can certainly bring him home." Casey told her. "The court will have to let him go."

"But the king has sold him to Cartier. He's bound for the Americas." Sienna shook her head.

Casey moved around the room, picking up a cup of salt and the bread.

"This is our home, and I will not see it fall apart." Casey told her firmly, putting a hand to her shoulder.

"We are waiting!" Rodmilla called.

"Oh, take heed, mistress, or these coins are as good as hers." Jackie warned her putting the coins back into Casey's dress handing her another plate.

"Morning, madam." Casey greeted as she entered the room where her mother and two stepsisters sat eating breakfast. "Marguerite. Jacqueline."

"Hello." Jacqueline replied softly.

"I trust you slept well."

"What kept you?" Rodmilla questioned as Casey put the salt carefully on the table.

"I fell off the ladder in the orchard, but I am better now." Casey told her.

"Someone's been reading in the fireplace again. Look at you, ash and soot everywhere." Marguerite commented in distaste.

"Some people read because they cannot think for themselves." Rodmilla said as Casey put the bread onto the table.

"Why don't you sleep with the pigs, cinder-soot, if you insist on smelling like one?" Marguerite told Casey.

"Ooh, that was harsh, Marguerite. Casey, come here, child." Rodmilla grabbed Casey's hands. "Your appearance does reflect a certain crudeness, my dear. What can I do to make you try?"

"I do try, Stepmother. I do wish to please you." Casey told her. "Sometimes, I sit on my own and try to think of what else I could do, how I should act-"

"Oh, calm down, child. Relax."

"Perhaps if we brought back Elijah, I would not offend you so." Casey suggested.

"It is your manner that offends, Casey. Throughout these hard times, I have sheltered you, clothed you and cared for you." Rodmilla said. "All that I ask in return is that you help me here without complaint. Is that such an extraordinary request?"

"No, my lady."

"Very well. We shall have no more talk of servants coming back. Is that quite understood?"

"Yes, my lady." Casey nodded as she turned to leave.

"After all that I do, after all I have done, it's never enough." Rodmilla turned to her daughters as Casey left the room.

If Rodmilla wasn't willing to help get Elijah back, then she was going to do it herself. Casey had a plan.

Dressed in a nice light blue dress and her face clean, Casey made her way to the castle where she knew Elijah would be. She spotted the cage where men were being pushed into. It set off.

Casey ran up stopping the men from leaving by grabbing the rein of the horse.

"I wish to address the issue of this gentleman." Casey told the man on the waggon with the cage, motioning to Elijah.

"He is my servant, and I am here to pay the debt against him."

"You're too late. He's bought and paid for." The man told her.

"I can pay you 20 gold francs."

"Madam, you can have me for 20 gold francs. Now drive on!" the man ordered but Casey stood her ground.

"I demand you release him at once, or I shall take this matter to the king." Casey demanded.

"The king's the one that sold him. He's now the property of Cartier."

"He is not property at all, you ill- mannered tub of guts." Casey said furiously. "Do you honestly think it right to chain people like chattel?"

"I demand you release him at once." Casey repeated stepping closer to the cage.

"Get out of my way!" the man yelled in her face.

"You dare raise your voice to a lady, sir?" a voice called out to them.

Casey turned to find Prince Ethan sat on a horse watching them. She bowed her head at him respectfully.

"Your Highness." the man chuckled. "For- Forgive me, sire. Uh, I meant no disrespect."

"Uh, it's just, uh, I'm following orders here. It's my job to take these criminals and thieves to the coast."

"A servant is not a thief, Your Highness, and those who are cannot help themselves." Casey turned to look at Prince Ethan. The attention of the many people were now on them.

"Really? Well, then, by all means... enlighten us" Ethan motioned a hand for Casey to continue.

"If you suffer your people to be ill- educated, and their manners corrupted from infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them" Casey told him passionatly.

"What else is to be concluded, sire, but that you first make thieves and then punish them?"

"Well, there you have it. Release him." Ethan ordered the man after a moment.

"But, sire-"

"I said release him."

"Yes, sire. The man nodded getting down to release Elijah. Casey followed behind, but sent Ethan a thankful smile over her shoulder.

"I thought I was looking at your mother." Elijah said as he hugged Casey, she handed the man the bag of gold coins.

"Meet me at the bridge." Casey whispered to Elijah.

"Prepare the horses. We will leave at once." Casey announced in a louder voice. Elijah, curious nodded and walked off quickly.

Casey made her way over to Prince Ethan, she curtsied slightly.

"I thank you, Your Highness." she told him sincerely before she set off wanting to get away in case he recognised her or someone realised she wasn't a courtier.

Ethan climbed down off his horse and followed after the woman that had peeked his intrest.

"Have we met?" Ethan frowned at her.

"I do not believe so, Your Highness."

"I could have sworn I knew every courtier in the province." Ethan told her.

"Well, I am visiting a cousin" Casey said thinking quickly as Ethan walked alongside her.

"Who?"

"My cousin."

"Yes, you said that. Which one?"

"Th-The only one I have, sire."

"Are you coy on purpose, or do you honestly refuse to tell me your name?" Ethan almost huffed.

"No. And yes."

Casey paused for a moment before she continued walking briskly.

"Well, then, pray, tell me your cousin's name, so that I might call upon her to learn who you are." Ethan said walking in front of her and backwards so he could still see her.

Ethan stopped for a moment letting her brush past him.

"For anyone who can quote Thomas More is well worth the effort."

This made Casey stop and turn to face Ethan. She was intrigued that he knew of the book.

"The prince has read Utopia?"

"I found it sentimental and dull." Ethan told her as he took a few steps towards her.

"I confess, the plight of the everyday rustic bores me."

"I gather you do not converse with many peasants." Casey noted as Ethan stepped closer again.

"Certainly not. No, naturally." Ethan gave a light scoff.

"Excuse me, sire, but there is nothing natural about it." Casey shook her head lightly, frowning at him as she walked away.

"A country's character is defined by its 'everyday rustics,' as you call them. They are the legs you stand on, and that position demands respect not-"

"Am I to understand that you find me arrogant?" Ethan raised an eyebrow as he stepped in front of her again, standing close to her.

From this distance Casey could see the prince had bright blue eyes and feel the warmth from his body.

"Well, you gave one man back his life, but did you even glance at the others?" Casey glanced back at the others who were still imprisoned, Ethan followed her gaze.

She had a point.

Casey started walking again making Ethan follow.

"Please, I beg of you. A name. Any name."

"I fear that the only name to leave you with is Comtesse Sophia de Lancret." Casey told him.

"There now. That wasn't so hard." Ethan smiled at her.

"Ethan!"

The pair paused again for a moment, Ethan turned to find his mother heading their way.

Casey used this distraction to slip away from the prince. A small smile stayed on her face as she and Elijah made their way home.

[letsperaltiago]

as long as you're with me it's always the time of the year

🌟 HAPPY 6TH OF DECEMBER: DOOR ONE 🌟

Welcome to door one of four! 

Behind my Christmas calendar’s first door is a... pre-relationship Peraltiago Christmas oneshot! ♥️ And I bet you have this series overall “theme” figured out now 😙If not then I guess you’ll have to tune back in in another six days! Until then I hope you can enjoy this first fic in the Christmas calendar/oneshot series!

Summary: The only thing Jake likes about the holidays is the Nine-Nine's annual Christmas party. This year, perhaps, he will come to prefer Amy's misfortune and company. Takes place somewhere between S02 E09: The Roadtrip and S2 E011:The stakeout.

Rating: G  Words: 6k

Read on AO3 here

🎁⬇️OPEN DOOR ONE HERE ⬇️🎁

The smell of pine trees, cinnamon and every other Christmas spice imaginable hangs over the precinct when Jake walks in on his day off. Normally he’d never set a foot near work on one of his holy days off, but today is the precinct’s annual Christmas party, and that he of course isn’t stupid enough to miss. Who would want to miss out on happenings like Boyle bringing some unknown Christmas-snack no one would ever want; drunk-Amy making an appearance; Gina hustling secret Santa gifts from young beat cops? Not Jake, that’s for sure.

This year’s party is being held on the third floor, the Special Victims Unit’s floor, and the second the elevator doors open before him Jake is met by the loud buzz made up of Christmas music, and people talking and laughing. Colors are everywhere; from the different, ugly shirts and Christmas sweaters people are wearing to the familiar, cliché Christmas decorations which have probably been reused for the past twenty Christmas parties. It’s horribly perfect, Jake thinks. Perhaps he hates the holidays, yes, but he does love the messy parties they bring along.  

“Jakey! Welcome!”

The detective has just barely stepped out of the elevator, onto festive grounds, when Charles appears right before him, holding two mugs of what appears to be some hot liquid. Jake is by no means very religious although he still prays to higher powers that said hot liquid is not that mulled Norwegian fish-wine his friend brought last year. Charles hands over one of the mugs and Jake is seriously afraid to look or, potentially even more hazardous, breathe in the toasty steam rising from it.

“Hey, bud. What’s that?”

“Mulled wine!” Charles takes a sip of his own mug meanwhile Jake can’t stop eyeing him, suspiciously so, because if there is one thing Jake doesn’t trust his best friend with then it’s primarily and definitely anything food and drink-related.

“Actual mulled wine or fish-wine?”

There is no getting around the fact that Charles is obviously hurt by the lack of trust his best friend is showing, when the little man’s face falls deadpan. “It happened once , Jake. One time.”

They start walking towards the briefing room, one much bigger than the one on their floor, where the life of the party is.

“I threw up for two days straight after last time - just saying, bud!”

Jake dares to smell the beverage and it does actually smell like actual mulled wine, so he hesitantly takes a sip, just in case it turns out he’s been betrayed. Alas the flavor tells him the liquid is indeed normal mulled wine, which makes this yet another cracked case for Peralta.

Inside the briefing room that is crowded with people, both some he knows and a lot that he doesn’t, a Christmas tree and all kinds of snacks and drinks, it’s hard to tell who is from what department and honestly? Jake doesn’t care. As long as people seem to be a good time and are willing to laugh at his hilarious charms then he’s down to clown. Or down to Santa - whatever Christmas-saying is more suitable.

“Has Gina scored herself some gifts yet? And how many drinks is Santiago at?”

Jake awaits an answer while his friend pours himself some more of the warm wine, and puts the time to good use by removing his leather jacket before hanging it on a random chair nearby. The party will be hot, literally, he figures.

“Hmm, last time I saw Gina she was up to two already…”

“Noice,” Jake nods in approval, mentally noting to check in with his friend later. This has to be the year she beats her record of eights gifts in one evening.

“... And Amy was up to one.”

“Not good enough.”

“We’ve only been here for an hour, Jake.”

Jake pauses. With the winter sun setting so early, he thought he’d missed out on hours of partying when in reality Boyle is right: it’s just barely 6.30 and he’s missed out on so little.

“Fair. I’ll give her that. Where is she anyway?”

Boyle turns just in time to see his friend scouting the room in hopes of finding his partner.

“Someone’s eager to hang out with Amy.” Just as his facial expression, rocking cocking eyebrows and a knowing smirk, Charles’ voice is laced with teasing tones. It’s no secret that Jake commiting to his feelings and acting on them, especially now that both him and Amy are single (and totally into each other, if you ask Charles) is at the top of the older detective’s wishlist - no matter how creepy it is.

“Shut up. I have a girlfriend.” Images of Sophia flash before him, the face she made when he promised her he didn’t like Amy anymore, and deep down Jake feels guilty. The feeling is quickly pushed aside though; he’s done nothing wrong and will do nothing wrong. He’s with Sophia - not Amy. “I just need to laugh at someone and Amy just so happens to be the perfect candidate.”

“Just like she’s perfect in every other way?”

“Boyle!” Jake lightly punches his friend on the arm and it almost causes Charles to spill the hot beverage. Just barely, he manages to restore the liquids balance and keep it in the cup.

“Hey! You almost made me drop my glühwein !” Leave it to Charles to pronounce the foreign word perfectly , and leave it to Jake to, as per usual, roll his eyes at it.

“Anyways, are you going to tell me where Amy is or not?”

The two friends stand back, facing the crowd in an attempt to comb through it, however everyone’s outfits seem so alike - ugly and colourful - and so it quickly hits them just how pointless the mission is.

“I don’t know about know, but last time I saw her she was by the women’s bathroom talking to Rosa. Haven’t seen her since.”

“Hm, okay,” Jake mumbles. “I’ll be right back. I just wanna say hi.”

“Sure you do.”

Quickly decoding the way his words are drenched in a certain teasing tone, Jake doesn’t even need to look at his friend to know there’s a knowing smirk plastered across his face. There’s no doubt: it’s easier for him to just walk away without looking back - so he does.

Boyle is a fool if he thinks he’s got a thing for Amy - that ship has long sailed. In the past, yes, he did have feelings for Amy… But that was before. Before Teddy and Sophia; before realising they were better off as friends; before, before, before. Sure, he’d felt something flare up inside of him that night at the inn with Teddy and Sophia when it was suddenly revealed that Amy used to like him, perhaps still did? He’ll admit that. However that entire trip was crazy, all kinds of emotions on display, and anything that said and/or happened there should be taken with a pinch of salt. Yes, he used to like Amy, ‘used to’ being the keyphrase. Now he was happy with Sophia and couldn't possibly have feelings for Amy. At least not romantic feelings, no. Friendly feelings, the sensation of being happy when around her? Sure. Now, months after said roadtrip to hell, things were back to normal: they were partners and friends, without any weirdness or doubt about the fact. That was it and the way it would stay, no matter what anyone said - especially Charles.

Suddenly he spots her, across the room in a corner with a cup in hand, talking to someone on the phone. The iconic red cup causes a smile to grow on Jake’s face as he is granted an early Christmas wish: drunk-Amy is going to make an appearance tonight. He appreciates all sides of Amy, although drunk-Amy is extra fun - especially ever since Gina let him in on the Santiago-drunkenness scale.

It takes her a second to pick up on his approach, but the second she sees him he receives a smile in return. Her hair is loose and shiny as alway. For tonight’s occasion it has a silvery head band holding it in place. To no one’s surprise, even less Jake’s, she’s wearing what he recognizes as her famous Santiago-dress pants. Although the blazer and usually colored shit has been replaced with a neatly ironed white shirt. The silver headband along with the white shirt? Of course Amy would go for an angel-look instead of a tacky red Santa or a green elf like many of their colleagues. Then again: white does look good really good on her, Jake admits to himself, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Charles’ words were stuck on repeat in his mind then maybe he would’ve told her. A nice, friendly compliment like… “You look pretty” or whatever other nice, not inappropriate thing he could say. It’s easier to say nothing at all, he figures.

The crowd around him is loud but he can hear her talking as he closes in on her. He waves to her and she half-mindedly waves back clearly focused on the conversation she’s in the midst of.

“Okay, yeah…”

He stops next to her and sips on his drink while she finishes up.

“We’ll go meet Santa on Sunday then… Yeah, I’ll meet you there. Bye.”

Although he hates to admit it, Jake is happy to see her hang up. It means she can switch her attention to him.

“Tinder date?” He asks.

She looks up, from putting her phone away, with what Jake considers the iconic ‘ you’re an idiot’-grimace, as a consequence reminding him of the one thing he has a hard time admitting - even to himself: she looks really cute doing just that and he likes that he’s the one person that can bring it out of her.

“Ha. Ha.” Her fake laugh is drier than the failed Christmas cookies she brought last year. “What do you think I do on Tinder-dates?”

“Meet Santa - apparently.”

It’s clear as day that the young man takes immense pleasure in the easygoing banter, the special kind he can only have with Amy, and even though his mouth says and shows one thing then his shining eyes definitely don’t agree. Infatuation is the word although he would never dare to call himself out on it. That was Charles’ job, but luckily no one, to Jake’s advantage, would ever believe the always way too excited little man.

“I can’t believe how funny you are, Peralta,” Amy retorts, voice stuck in the same still flat tone that tries to make believe she isn’t very amused and delighted by the fact that Jake located her just to tease her. It’s a special kind of attention, one she at times has dreaded but with time slowly and surely has come to like - a lot. Even though she pretends not to.

“I can’t believe you go on Tinder-dates, Santiago.”

“I never said I did? You did.” She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow in objection.

“Right, right… Forgot you used to have feelings for me, which means you must’ve cut off all dating in hopes of me coming around one day.”

In all honesty Jake can’t, for the life of him, figure out why he says what he does sometimes. Although, apparently, there must be somewhat truth to it considering how Amy feels her palms heat up against her cold drink, blood rushing to her face where it quickly takes apparent form as a rosy color tinting the apples of her cheeks. Jake, even though it’s so very tempting, tries not to think any of it. Replaying in his mind is the look of confusion and pain on Amy’s face when it was brought up that Amy used to like him. Perhaps it was true but if bringing it up, in a context that wasn’t just for fun and banter, would cause Amy the same troubled feelings from back at the Maple Drip Inn, then it definitely wasn’t worth bringing up again. He shouldn't have said that. Amy didn’t have feelings for him anymore - chapter closed.

“Sorry. Bad joke.”

“It’s fine.” She tries to chuckle it off but he knows a genuine Amy-laugh and this isn’t it.

“Anyways,” Jake takes another sip of his drink leaving the word hanging in the air for a few seconds, aspiring for a change of subject, in case his partner wants to take advantage. She doesn’t though. His turn, he figures.  “If not a mystery man, then who was it?”

She shakes her head smiling at his persistence. “It was my brother Anthony. Him, Christian and I are taking my nephews and nieces to meet Santa.”

“Wow, all five hundred of them?”

Amy has to laugh at this, a genuine laugh this time, one with no snarky comment because he’s kind of right: her family is huge and she appreciates him taking note of it even though the number is horribly wrong.

“Almost… Just the ten of them.”

A shared chuckle between the two settles a nice and comfortable atmosphere around the two; one where the rest of the room disappears into the background and it’s just the two of them laughing and poking at each other as if there’s no half-awkward and delicate taboo to dance around.

Sadly the moment isn’t meant to last for much longer. Jake is halfway into one of his crazy stories, making Amy laugh louder and louder with every sip of her first drink. Out of nowhere, a heavy figure, certainly bigger than Amy’s, comes tumbling into her from the side and it to no one’s surprise results in her drink flying out of her hands, splashing all over her. Amy lets out a whelp, time stands still, everything seems to go silent as everyone around Amy, Jake included, stares in horror at the sudden mess.

Her drink, an unknown clear liquid mixed with melting ice, meets her previously so white and crisp shirt immediately soaking it - there’s no saving it.

“Oh, shit.” The stutter comes from the young man of the hour, someone Jake quickly recognizes at the loud and ruthless - and that’s coming from Jake - beat cop, Officer Miller. Jake finally snaps out of his daze, surprise and disbelief having him thrown completely off track. It’s then he really notices the look of horror on his partner’s half-drenched, very disappointed face, and even though he’s not to blame and it’s barely been ten seconds since the moment of collision, he wishes he’d reacted sooner.

“Oh my gosh,” Amy spits out, the sad remains of her drink plastered to her lower face and clothes.

“Fuck,” Miller adds another stutter to the list of pointless doings, right amidst the act of just standing there completely incapable of anything at all. From his point of view, Jake is witnessing the hopelessness play out before him -  Amy frozen, in shock, and Miller simply staring in disbelief at the consequences of his own acts -  when he suddenly notices how the young officer’s eyes shamelessly wander, from where they were looking at Amy’s face, downwards. Why whould he-

Jake’s eyes trail along, ingeniously, but quickly fly back to where they were looking at the offender - this time with rage in them. Miller’s eyes are still gawking at one specific area on Amy: her torso where her previously nice, white shirt - one Jake can picture Amy spending hours ironing and being excited to wear - is now very much see-through.

“Hey, what the hell, man!”

Jake is by no means a violent person, nevertheless he can’t contain himself. Not when Amy is right before him looking like a lost puppy. He lightly punches the other man’s shoulder.

“What the hell, yourself! Don’t touch me!” Miller, having finally snapped out of his perverted daydream, defends himself and takes a threatening step towards Jake.

“Jake, it’s okay-” Just like all the seminars have taught her, Amy tries to interrupt the escalating conflict; one that’s somehow partly her fault but at the same time not at all. However, feeling very exposed, starting to feel anxious, she doesn’t force anything. Left to do is nothing but to stand back and watch Jake stand his ground - even when the younger but notably taller man steps up to him.

“How about you have some decency and apologize to my partner?”

Jake is enraged, obviously by the drink-incident itself, but mostly by the young officer’s disrespectful reaction that followed suit. On the occasion that he wouldn’t much rather use his energy on listening to and helping Amy then maybe, just maybe, he would’ve engaged further. Inside his head he counts down from ten, still glaring with fiery eyes at Miller, and not moving before he’s reached zero. As if on cue Amy breaks the silence.

“Jake… Let it go. It was an accident.”

She’s too good for her own self, he thinks. Her voice is shaky, not disturbingly so but just enough to get Jake to turn around, and his reasoning is confirmed: his energy and time is better spent helping her, however he can. The crowd around them has once again started buzzing, as if nothing ever happened, and the only thing Jake has eyes for is Amy and the distressing way in which she has her arms crossed before her in an attempt to hide herself. Her body’s posture obviously translates to her facial features, the anxiety starting to show, so of course Jake wastes no time; without further hesitation, he pulls off his iconic blue hoodie and makes sure to help it onto her, shielding her from the rest of the party. Once in a while he throws a glance at her face, and he can tell the very second it hits her that he must’ve seen it too since he knows what’s going on.

“Don’t worry about it. Except for that idiot, no one saw anything. Don’t think about it… Okay?” He reassures her, hopefully putting her mind at ease, and makes sure to catch her eyes before continuing. Hopefully she believes him.  

“Thank you,” she whispers as they stand face to face while Jake makes sure his hoodie is covering her properly. He wants to smile, be the good in her dreadful situation, but still feeling too pissed he can only muster a nod before he wraps a protective arm around her shoulder. “Come with me, Amy. Lets go fix this.” It’s his way of telling her to come with him, that she can trust him and that he’ll take care of it. He can feel her follow him, thus guiding her to the elevator.

❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄

Still in a somewhat trance-like state, Amy lets Jake guide her, arm safely around her shoulder and small-talking to keep her calm, down the dimly lit hall of the basement and into the Nine-Nine’s men’s locker room. Her soaked shirt has slowly started soaking through Jake’s hoodie, the wet tips of Amy’s hair dripping onto it as well, and there’s a very good reason Jake has brought her where he has. He doesn’t waste a second and gently sits her down on the bench in the middle of the many lockers.

“Just sit tight, Ames. I’m going to fix this.”

She nods instead of breaking her silence, still feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the embarrassing situation which has unfortunately triggered an anxious part of her that she most of the time can keep in check. Alas this situation was too much, understandably so, and all she has to cling onto is her partner rummaging rather aimlessly through what she hopes is his locker. Must be; the inside of the door is covered in a Die Hard poster, and Amy feels herself smile a bit at the sight. That is so very Jake Peralta. Even more so when, during the intense search, all kinds of random items accidently fall out of the locker. Everything from packs of gum and old receipts to DVDs and lonely socks.

“Aha! Knew I had it in here!”

Jake pulls a chequered item from the depths of his - very messy, Amy can’t help but shudder - locker before turning to her with a wide, proud smile that lets her know: mission accomplished. He puts a red flannel on display for her and his smile never falters. “On top of being clean and warm it’s also red. Very christmassy, Santiago.”

“Have you just… always had that in there?”

“Probably since I transferred here,” Jake chuckles as he throws all the things that fell out during his search for the flannel back into the chaos of the locker. “Red is not my best color, so I just keep it in there in case I need a change of clothes…” he trails off as if he’s considering his next move, then his head whips around to look at her. “... Or, like, in case my best friend is in trouble. Might not be up to Santiago-standards but I promise it isn’t gross or anything.”

Amy can’t fight it as tiny butterflies break free in her stomach at the sight of her caring partner, someone she could potentially see as more but alas she’ll never say out loud, send her that small, mischievous yet shy smile of his. Instead of saying anything, too baffled to say anything coherent, her eyes will secretly sparkle and heart do a double take. A joke can perhaps do the job, she thinks, hating how Jake-like she’s become over the years.

“Best friend? I don’t see Boyle in here.”

“What a silly thing to say, Santiago.” Having stuffed all of his randomness back into the locker, he turns back to look at her. “You know very well that you’re my best friend, too.”

Silence, more intense than their usual comfortable ones, fall over them as their eyes stay in touch. It’s as if someone’s supposed to say something, supposed to confess, but nothing of that nature presents itself. Instead Jake clears his throat.

“Now take your wet shirt off and put this on.” He hands her the flannel and for a second their eyes lock again. She takes it from him and keeps their eyes locked, for just a second too long as if she’s trying to communicate through the stare. A tension, one made of something unspoken, once again connects them. Too bad Jake’s quick to divert the situation by clearing his throat, she think, even though she also knows he’s right.

“Uhm, so yeah… Put that on and I’ll wait outside. There’s another hoodie in my locker, uhm on top, if you’re still cold.”

“T-thanks, Jake.”

A small smile is sent her way before he disappears out into the hall and closes the door, allowing Amy to let out a deep breath. Damn Jake Peralta for being so amazing.

❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄

“Tadaaa.”

Jake’s head flies up, from where he was looking down at his phone, to witness a sight he definitely shouldn’t be loving as much as the butterflies in his stomach tell him he certainly does. There’s apparently something about Amy Santiago in his flannel and hoodie that does something to him; sweaty palms, speeding heartbeat and all that jazz.

“How do I look?”

Beautiful. He thinks but doesn’t say it out loud. There’s a teasing glint in his partner’s eyes, one he wants to fall and dive right into so badly, but he’s too aware to give into it. Amy does a pageant twirl and it couldn’t be timed any better, Jake thinks: it’s the perfect occasion for him to throw in a joke and break the spell that he seems to be under.

“Stunning,” he jokes and prays to some higher power that it’s enough to drench them in that never-that-serious, goofy energy they seem to be all about, even after the most serious and intense moments. “Like looking at myself in the mirror.”

She scrunches her nose and smiles, a face she always makes when he says something funny, and Jake doesn’t complain. “Ouch.” She says, pretend-hurt.

“Hey! I’m very handsome, thank you very much…”

“Whatever.” She shakes her head. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles, genuinely as only he can, and Amy wants to thank him for so much more than just tonight. She wants to thank him for always being on her side, always making her feel good in every situation imaginable, even the bad ones, and she wants to thank him for truly being her best friend. That would come off as a very emotionally loaded confession though, so instead she bites her lip.

“Anyways… I think I’m gonna head home. I’m not really feeling like going back there.” She confesses.

All at once the light and cheery Amy, the Amy that jokes and rolls her eyes at him, seems to be switched off and once again replaced by the hesitant Amy he rarely sees. The few times he has witnessed said hesitant and insecure Amy, without hesitation or questions, he feels a somewhat irrational need to help her, take care of the thorn in her side, whatever that might be. Although now, with a girlfriend, one that isn’t Amy, weighing down on his conscience, he isn’t quite sure of how to act. The thought of her sitting at home all alone while he and everyone at the Nine-Nine parties doesn’t fall on fertile ground. No way he’s just letting her walk out.

“I’ll head upstairs with you and grab my coat, say goodbye to the squad, and then I’ll be off before I can embarrass myself again.”

“Ames!”

Barely turned on her heels, Jake is significantly faster and manages to block her way to the elevator. In the depth of his brown eyes Amy, surprised to say the least, can see something unravelling. She’s frozen on the spot where he cut her off.

“Jake?”

“Stay? We can have a fun night without going back up to the party.” He flashes a shy smile that reminds her of the kind she and her brothers always used to flash at their mother whenever they knew they were bargaining for an unreasonable cause. Much like that Jake Peralta is indeed a child disguised as a grown man.  

“Stay?” There’s that stupid cute frown of hers again, he thinks and he actually isn’t quite sure of the answer. Jake had a bad case of blurting out ideas before being fully sure of what said idea fully was, and this was no exception. All he knew was that Amy couldn’t leave to be alone; he couldn’t have her spend the night doing nothing.

“Uh- I… That’s not what I meant.” It kind of actually was, but he can’t force her to stay if she wants to go, which genuinely seems to be her preferred plan. “Let me follow you home - at least.” Nice save, he thinks to himself.

Her frown slowly melts away like snow on a spring day and, if he isn’t completely delusional, Jake can see a small smile rise on her lips instead and his new idea is actually a good one.

“I would lov-” her voice hitches in her throat when she accidently looks right back into her partner's eyes, momentarily thrown off track, but in true Santiago-style she makes a quick comeback. Keeps the feelings abay and packed away like a pro. “That would be nice, Jake. Thank you”.

“Cool cool cool.” Skin against skin can be heard rubbing against each other, an unusual sound, and it confuses Amy for a second until she notices that Jake’s palms are rubbing against each other. A nervous mannerism on his part that has Amy wonder why . Not for too long though. Jake is quick to save himself.  

“Let me go grab our things upstairs. We can meet on the first floor. I’ll tell everyone you feel sick.”

“Thanks, Jake. My coat is-”

“Navy blue, gold buttons and black handbag. Got it.”

So far from a question as could be, a sentence that is more matter of factly than most things Jake says, Amy can only go silent and nod in agreement. The man is very right, after all and she feels fuzzy at how seamlessly it fell from his lips. They enter the elevator in a comfortable silence and after having stepped off on the first floor, Amy can only smile to herself as she sees the elevator doors close between her and what is probably the best partner in the world. Best friend, she corrects herself, reminiscing about Jake’s words from down in the locker room.

❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄

Snow crunches under their feet, the white powder covering every street in Brooklyn, and tonight the otherwise hectic city looks abnormally peaceful. Amidst the winter wonderland, two figures make their way through the drizzling snowfall, both imagining that this is the way things, perhaps, could and should be. Alone, together the two of them, in the world.

Turns out that focusing on the story Amy is currently telling is, even though very interesting, very hard when snowflakes caught in her hair makes it look all glittery and pretty. Also soft, he thinks, and he hates that he wonders what it would feel like to run his fingers through it. Maybe as they were snuggled up on their couch, under blankets, as they watched those stupid Christas movies that he knows she loves. This trail of thoughts is a dangerous one, he’s aware. Luckily Amy herself comes to his rescue, her laughter shattering whatever parallel universe his mind was forming. Of course he laughs along even though he can safely say that he doesn’t know what he’s laughing at. Alone the sound of her laugh is enough to make him want to join. She’s contagious like that - in every way imaginable.

“Hey, Jake?”

She stops and him likewise. “Yeah?”

He turns around to catch her looking longingly at the building they’re currently in front of; a nicely decorated little café. “This place has the best cocoa. Wanna get some? My treat - now that you’re missing out on the party because of me.” She looks back at her partner for some kind of approval, shyly tugging her hair behind her ears in the process and there’s no way Jake can say no - even if he wanted to. The light coming from the café creates an aura-like effect around her figure and Jake swears to himself that she’s an actual angel.

“Sounds good. Mostly because you’re paying,” he manages to snap out of his daydream just in time to come off as nonchalant, teasing, and the two enter the warmth of the café. Inside it’s buzzing with families and couples celebrating the season in each other’s company, and Jake briefly wonders if that will ever be him sitting with a toddler in his lap, allowing it to taste its first hot cocoa as him and the mother witness it with wide smiles on their faces? And with who? Sophia, maybe? Or maybe- no. Definitely can’t go there.

“Two hot dark chocolate with marshmallows, please.”

“Dark?” Jake frowns suddenly back in present time where Amy has made it her task to order their drinks.

“Yeah, they have different kinds but the dark is the best. Trust me.”

“With my life.”

They share a smile and to everyone else in that room, or at least the ones that care enough to pay attention, they could be a couple - foolishly into each other. Before they know it they’re back outside in the cold, although they quickly forget as their respective cups of cocoa warms their hands, and soon after reach Amy’s apartment building. It feels like forever since they left the precinct, when actually, Jake notices when he checks his phone, it’s only been about an hour. Darkness does that to his already questionable sense of time.

His deed is done, he knows; Amy is home safe, and he can head back to the precinct and party with a bunch of people he doesn’t really care about. Or at least cares just a bit less about than Amy. Suddenly the urge to party, act like an idiot and get drunk surely doesn’t sound tempting - at all. Maybe it’s the few hours he’s spent hanging out alone with Amy; perhaps it’s the taste of dark hot cocoa stuck on his tongue, the one he’d moaned about “indeed being the best he’d ever had” just minutes ago… He can’t figure it out but something from within the last two hours has him hating the thought of being anywhere else but here with Amy. If he asked her to hang out outside in the snow, he would.

“So... “ Amy breaks the silence. “Thanks for walking me home… And the shirt and hoodie.You’ll have it back, washed and everything, tomorrow. Promise.”

Consistent as always, Jake thinks and smiles with amusement radiating from his eyes. “Yeah, I’m really going to need that back asap. It’s not like I have the exact same outfit, like times ten, at home… Like some cartoon animal.”

She laughs, throwing her head back and Jake feels the snow beneath him melt.

“Good to know.” She straightens back up, arms crossed to keep her warm, even though Jake is certain her smile must radiate enough warmth to keep them both warm.

“No worries.”

Silence swallows them and all there is to be heard is the sound of the forever and always buzzing Brooklyn; cars, people yelling, jingle bells, dogs barking and everything that makes Brooklyn oh so very Brooklyn.

“Sooo…” Amy shuffles on the spot nervously creating small patterns in the before solid snow. “Are headed back to the party? I bet Charles misses you.”

They share a chuckle, both well-knowing she isn’t joking.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right but... “ He hesitates to say it, nervously biting his lip as the hands in his pocket’s shuffle around for nothing at all. “I don’t think I’m gonna head back. I’m just gonna head home. Everyone’s probably all buzzed by now and I don’t think I’m up for the challenge of catching up.”

“Oh… I- uhm-”

The shuffling only grows worse and it’s as if the young woman can’t find peace, bit by bit aggravating the guilt she’s suddenly feeling - a guilt he’d never intended her to feel. “Jake, I’m so sorry if you felt like you had to skip the party to follow me home. You should've just stayed behind and had fun with everyone. I would’ve been just fin-”

“Ames.” He gently grabs her by the upper arms, stopping her from spiralling completely. “Shut up.” He makes sure to smile when he says it. “I’ve had way more fun hanging out with you than I would’ve with those bazillion strangers back at the precinct.”

He can feel her shoulders drop, relaxing, before she flashes back a smile. A snowflake lands on the very tip of her nose and Jake smiles even wider. Little does she know why. “First of all: bazillion is not a real number. Second of all: if it was then I don’t think that many people work at our precinct,” she argues with a glimt in her eye that matches the snowflakes on her face.

“How can you know if bazilion is not an actual number? A bazillion might be like.. 85?” He tilts his head in that challenging way he always does when he knows he’s got a point.

Silence.

“You might be one of the Nine-Nine’s best detectives but, my God,I swear sometimes you’re so stupid,” she finishes with an affectionate chuckles.

“No doubt.”

They both laugh it off and it’s so them, they both can’t help but think.

“Anyways… Feel free to say no, but wanna come up? We can finish our cocoas and watch a Christmas movie, maybe?”

There’s nothing he’d rather do. Without a doubt.

“I would like that.”

“Okay then,” she agrees and unlocks the door to her building. “I’m not watching ‘Die Hard’ though.”

“Aw, come on, Ames!” he whines.

“It’s not a Christmas movie and if you try to convince me otherwise, then I will prove you wrong. I have a list of arguments saved on my phone - solely for this very occasion.”

“Challenge accepted!”

They end up watching ‘Home Alone’ instead, huddled up on Amy’s couch with each their blanket and hot cocoa, a friendly distance between them, of course, and if you were to ask them, they both had the best Christmas party-evening. They laugh their way through the movie and each other’s company, no complications in sight, and how they both wish, deep down, that everyday could be like this.

The end. 

❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄

[peachymess]

I was gone for a quite some time and you're pro AA now? /gen! No hate but all I remember was your posts about how their interactions aren't about AA but about Armin alone and how he could be affected by Bert. What changed? Also glad you're well now awesome!

Hei, anon! A lot does, indeed, happen, over long periods of time. I wasn't a big fan of AA (though, it was never on the NOTP list, or if it was, it was nowhere near the top). And it's still not my cup of tea to actively ship - I just think it's neat. I've gone from finding it boring and a little forced, to loving that it exists. Sure, in the posts where I expressed my disinterest in the past, I'd sometimes tagg it "anti-ship", but this was so pro-shippers didn't have to see unfavorable opinions of something they liked; not because it was active hate. (And I didn’t even talk about it unless I was asked.)

Anyways, I've gone from feeling like Armin can do better - because Annie as a character didn't particularly impress me - to now being grateful for them finding together because it looks healthy and happy and built on mutual respect. I couldn't think of a better match for him now that we look at everything in retrospect. Because as I've always said: in the end, I want what's best for him, I want what makes him happy.

Now, when you say scenes, I'm assuming you mean scene, because I don't think I've talked exessively about their other scenes, just the crystal one. Because I never thought ALL AA scenes were "about Armin alone". No, of course the scenes are there to build on Annie as well. I might have made the point that the scenes weren't romantic in my eyes, but never "about Armin alone". Now, the crystal scene I DID analyze the scene to be about "Armin BEING alone". Almost wonder if you have me confused with someone because I only spoke about that one scene, only when asked, and I did NOT agree with the Bert theory at ALL. I was asked several times on my thoughts about the scene where Armin talks to Annie's crystal, and I felt strongly that in that scene, what Isayama was showing us, was Armin's isolation. Not budding romance. I won't reiterate that whole analysys, but I feel like the first part still stands. That scene, without the shippy aspect, still stands as one that's there explicitly to tell us several more important (imo) and relevant things.

(And for the record, I have always been vocal about my distatse for the Bertolt theory. If you saw me talk about it, I'm sure it was to explore the different possibilities; "either Armin did X because Y, or because of Z - but in that case, then---". I've always expressed how problematic that theory would be to the characters' agency. I actually big time hate that theory, and I'm almost upset you would think I advocated for it. I HATE hate that theory and always have.)

However, the ship part also turned out to be valid! Not only that, but there was so much AA that I flat out didn't hear about! It's only recently that I was even told about it all! See, I stopped reading the manga years ago, because my nerves couldn't take it. For good chunks of the archs ever since 90, I have only read summaries of. Always kept an eye on it, but yeah. I needed to take a big step back for my health. And oh boy, there was actually a (basically) explicit AA confession scene in there! I felt like a big idiot when I learned that, because some time ago, I was asked if I thought "the confession scene" was actually romantic. Like, did it canonize them. And I thought they meant the scene where Armin talks to the crystal, and that the "explicit confession" was when he said: "I wanted to see you" or whatever it was. And I even ended up "arguing" in the notes with someone that no, it hadn't been a very "clear" romantic confession. They meant it was obvious. ... When in reality, there was an actual confession scene and we were talking past each other. If I could re-do my answer, I'd tell the answer this: YES, that confession scene seemed romantic to me! ...I still don't think AA pre-timeskip + cystal scene is enough to make for a thoroughly built interest. They'd need more content for me to go "ok, Isa has established AA enough now that I buy it if they get to together". So me not believing it at the time of the crystal scene,... well, I stil lstand by that.

Over time, more AA content happened, making for stronger and stornger arguments, so I was won over in the end. Though, my dear anon, here's a kicker for you: I might have been less against it o begin with, if you aren’t just basically fed content ONLY from the ships you like. Because you see what you looking for. And, not being the AA community, I didn't come into contact with a lot of content that would have swayed me. I've always been big on canon. I started loving eremin for its canon bond. ... And for the same reason, I struggle to ship it now, based on later canon. For once in fandom history, a shipping community actually did what we ask them to: stick to their lane. Nobody from the AA community ever "bothered me" by showed me the video of Marina talking about Annie being Armin's obvious girlfriend, from way back when. Nobody told me the english translation of "you're actually a sweet person" or whatever it was, was much softer and sweeter in original. Etc. What I'm saying is there's a lot more AA content than I ever thought. And that has a lot of power to sway. ... Yet, I think what sold it for me, anon, was when Mikasa left Armin to die on the battle field (if that has been Eren, just saying...). His "childhood bestie" left him to choke and die... While, upon being told, Annie, said "I'll get him back" and went for it. That was the moment she started growing on me. It's actually... I'm actually obsessed with that moment. I'm so grateful to Annie, I can't stop obsessing over it. Fucking thank you, Annie. THANK you. I'll never not be upset that Mikasa and Levi left him there, and I'm lowkey shocked that not more people in the fandom had a reaction to that. I don't have as much of a need to discuss the manga online anymore. I have my opinion and I don't feel the need to make others agree. So I hesitate to even pop the lid on this can of worms, but yeah... Honestly, there's a lot of EMA salt there for me and Annie stands as the safe haven and someone who actually, *truly* sees Armin in the wake of the ending... so... I'm very glad he has her.

... So, what can I say. I recently learned Armin was a total gentleman when Annie ate pie, they had a sweet goobye, Armin landing in Annie's palm, the way she looked at him when he stepped up at the end, a CONFESSION, and such leveled normal dialogue, etc. There's more reason to accept AA into my heart now than "a long time ago", anon. I was wrong, AA was endgame and I'm happy about it.

[fleckcmscott]

To Have and To Hold

Summary: Y/N makes an oversight at work. The resulting extra hours with Arthur delight them both.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

Words: 4,272

A/N: This story had been kicking around in my head for about two months, but I hadn’t been sure if I was going to write it. Then I read @sweet-nothings04‘s amazing Hand-in-Hand (which you all need to check out, if you haven’t), and knew I had to put it on paper. Thanks to her for the inspiration to finally develop this, and for the title, too!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open! 

Perhaps it was the sunshine that stirred her. Or the horns of traffic on congested streets. The hammering of a distant construction site. The chatter and occasional yelling of passersby.  The hum of Gotham awakening.

Y/N blinked in confusion - how could it be so bright this early? - and squinted at the clock at Arthur's side of the bed. No numbers greeted her, just its blank, plastic display. Stretching, she reached to her left for her watch, in its spot by the beige rotary phone on the nightstand.

"Shit!"

Nearly knocking over her glass of water, she clambered off the mattress. Arthur had warned her the lights could go off in his apartment. Not often and not for long. But enough to annoy. Naturally, his building's shoddy electricity had to mess with the alarm today. When she'd stayed up too late. When he'd had to leave ahead of her to commute to the other end of the city for a rare winter gig. When her body had chosen to oversleep in the coziness of his blankets.

Her nylons had never been yanked on with such haste. Arthur had made coffee but she skipped it in favor of brushing her teeth. Pausing on her way out, she took a calcium supplement and grabbed a note from the counter. She read it while riding the wood-paneled, graffiti covered elevator: "Your presentashin will be great. You snored a lot. Good thing your cute. - Arthur." He always signed his name. As though she wouldn't recognize his scrawl. As if anyone else wrote her sweet, sassy missives. She grinned until she hopped on the for-once punctual subway.

The presentation he'd referred to was set for that afternoon. She was expected to discuss the evidence and court file for this week's contested hearing. Last night, she'd sat at Arthur's breakfast bar to compile the case's final details and finish prep sheets. Gently, she'd rebuffed his subtle advances. His attempts to draw her attention from work to him.

Excitement had been palpable as he'd hovered near her. She was fairly certain she knew the cause because it enthused her as well. In three and a half short weeks, he'd be moving in with her. They'd officially begin traversing whatever the future held for them together. Hesitation had been clear in his posture, his drawn shoulders when (after plenty of convincing on her part that yes, she really, really, wanted him) he'd finally accepted the key to her place. But since he'd added it to his own keyring, he'd brightened. Strode a little taller. Walked a little prouder. Touched a little bolder. As though the weight he carried had lessened, at least by a couple cinder blocks' worth.

At his slight pout, she'd decided to find a way to involve him. He'd perched on the stool next to her, rested his cigarette in the pink ashtray to the left, and taken the proffered exhibit stickers with a quirked brow. Y/N had handed him papers, which he'd added labels to for her to write on. Then she'd stacked them in four different piles according to type. It had taken longer than usual - she was faster alone. But the intimacy of sharing the professional elements of her life with Arthur (besides the office wear he liked, claiming it showed how "smart" and "pretty" she was) had tightened her chest. And the curved-up corner of his thin lips had reflected how pleased he was, too.

They hadn't been able to collaborate on everything, however. It was past midnight by the time she'd joined Arthur, who had retreated to the bedroom an hour or so earlier. He'd been sitting against the headboard, half under the cover. The harsh blue light emanating from the old black and white TV at the foot of the bed had sharpened his features. Deepened the set of his eyes. He'd stubbed out his smoke as she closed the door. "I taped The Honeymoon Game. We can watch it when you're here again." A beat. "If you're not busy."

"This is supposed to be my last big project for a month or so." Sighing, she'd gotten her nightgown from her overnight bag. "I didn't mean for it to take all evening." She climbed in next to him and threw her arm across his lap. "I'm sorry."

He'd been stiff. Unyielding. The telltale signs he was miffed or upset. But he'd twined her hair around his finger, let his touch fall to her brow bone. "It's okay," he'd said lowly, adjusting to lie alongside her. "I don't want to be... I'm not being fair."

"You don't have to pretend with me, Arthur. It's all right to be annoyed." Tiredness had pulled at her as she'd fought to watch the rest of Gotham Tomorrow Tonight. The contact of his socked toes to her bare ones had made her smile, though, and she'd nuzzled his bicep. "I missed you," she'd mumbled, then promptly passed out.

The squeal of wheels on metal tracks prompted her to sling her canvas tote onto her shoulder. Shaw & Associates was a short sprint from the nearest station. She was certain she looked ridiculous, running down the street in her high heels. But she managed to slip into the office with two minutes to spare. Once she poured herself a cup of joe and straightened her blazer, she settled in her cushioned chair to get started.

It was only when Matt told her he wanted to meet before lunch that she'd rummaged in her bag. And realized she'd neglected to bring the file. Recalled it was sitting on Arthur's kitchen counter.

Fuck.

Her nails tapped the wood surface of her desk. Excusing herself to the bathroom so she could go retrieve it wouldn't fly. Matt would send a search party. She could try to discuss everything from memory, tell him documents were still being gathered. But he wasn't that oblivious. She settled on owning her error. "It's at home." Her delivery was nonchalant.

He waited until she'd loaded her typewriter with paper, then responded wryly. "You're not supposed to take files home anymore. Remember what happened last time?"

She leaned back as he stepped in front of her. "There was the slew of family cases that came in. With Patricia on leave, I'm handling all our calls and mail. Not to mention paperwork on her filings. It wouldn't have gotten finished if I hadn't taken it." Snorting, she shook her head at herself. Heat bloomed in her neck. "Not that it matters when I don't have it."

Expression softening, Matt stuck his hands in his pockets and jutted his chin at her. "How long did you work on it?"

It was hard to discern if he actually cared about the hours she put in. Or if he merely wanted to gauge the possibility of her doing investigations off the books again, something he'd explicitly prohibited. "I don't know." She waved dismissively. "Three or four hours?"

He let out a huff. "You put in enough time already. Go home at noon. We'll get to it first thing tomorrow."

"I have a lot to do." Her eyes widened at the myriad piles of folders laying around. "And I can't imagine you playing operator."

"I've managed when you've both been in court or at appointments. Besides," he continued as he headed back to his office. "You never take days off."

Straightening, she wheeled her chair to watch him plop down on his leather seat. "I'm taking three days next month," she countered.

His glare contained an unequal mix of mirth and consternation. "Y/N?"

The phone started ringing. She succeeded in making one ear ignore it. "Yes?"

"I know you haven't forgiven me for that whole Renew Corp. thing." She flinched at the casual mention of the company she loathed. Of her failure. But she forced herself to listen. Matt picked up a pen and started writing. “Rather than being stubborn, try saying, 'You're right.'"

~~~~~

Y/N stood in front of the narrow, white stove, stirring the soup she'd thrown together using bouillon, carrots, onions, and pasta. Ingredients she'd found in Arthur's kitchen. Music poured, at a respectable volume, from the radio on the windowsill. Swaying out-of-time, she added a sprinkling of black pepper, one of the only three spices he had (along with powdered garlic and salt). Wearing a content smirk, she sampled the steaming broth.

When she'd left the office, she'd been frustrated at herself. Yes, she was human. Everyone made mistakes. But she wasn't the forgetful type. Particularly if someone was depending on her. However, as she'd stopped in Burnley for another change of clothes, hopped on the train to Otisburg, and pictured Arthur's reaction to finding her in his home instead of having to call to wish her sweet dreams, her disposition had improved. Not only would he have her for an extra night. He'd get a late lunch, too.

The click of the deadbolt and clank of his keys on the entrance table came the second she turned off the stove. She listened to his heavy exhale as his bag dropped to the floor and shut the door. In her peripheral vision he froze, then approached tentatively. She reveled in his delicate hold on the dip of her waist, the peck he planted on her cheek. The smell of greasepaint wafted to her nose. "I hoped I hadn't made this up," he sighed with what sounded like relief. "But your meeting."

She angled herself towards him, gaze roving over his red and blue plaid blazer. The painted-on smile. His irresistible brown curls, mostly flattened by the wig he'd worn. Fidgeting with the petals of the squirting flower on his lapel, she scrunched up her face. "This morning went to shit." She explained the power outage, the clock, her own stupidity at leaving the file in his apartment. "I've packed it. Don't worry."

His posture grew pensive. "Sorry. Maybe- Maybe we should have stayed at your place. Your building's better."

Him thinking her error was somehow his fault had to be nipped in the bud. "No," she said. "You asked to make more memories here before we move in together. I'm happy to do that."

He paused, long enough she could have sworn she'd heard the gears in his head grinding. "Are you in trouble?"

Not unexpectedly, he had put together her mistake and her early dismissal from work and assumed the worst. "If I wasn't fired for trying to stop the Waynes, it's going to take more than an oversight to get me thrown out on my ass." Her brow furrowed. She sneaked a hand under his jacket and placed her palm on his chest. "I just hate that I wasted last night for nothing."

Soft lips, slightly sticky with red paint, grazed her temple. "It's okay," he said. "You're here now. And I got to help you."

The balm of his kindness loosened her rigid stance. His zeal to assist her, to ask questions, to learn about every aspect of her branded her heart completely. She leaned into him, kissed the squishy fold of skin under his chin, and nudged his ribs. "Food's ready. Go change. I want to hear all about your day."

Arthur emerged from the bathroom within minutes, clad in his worn, blue house pants and toweling his hair. Dimples were on constant display while they ate. The glint in his eyes was the one he usually had if his act or a job had gone particularly well, if he was pleased with himself. Was the one starting to be an almost weekly occurrence. Was the one that made his green eyes sparkle and caused her stomach to flip. He inched closer to her with every sentence.

The kids at the new children’s medical center had liked Carnival, he said. They hadn’t minded that he’d "filled in" for Gary. The magic tricks had all gone without a hitch, and the clinic had provided the balloons, which was a savings. The nurses and doctors had been nice; they’d even asked for his card. He’d had to provide a slip of paper with his address and telephone number instead. But he was sure he’d be invited to perform again. And he asked Y/N for help writing Gary a thank you note for the referral, claiming, “You’re better at that than me.”

“You’re the one who journals every day.” Her bowl and spoon clattered in the sink. “And your letter to me was beautiful. Just let me proofread it.”

Soon they were reclined on the sofa, sharing the flat pillow he’d used when he’d had no choice but to sleep there. The tape he’d recorded yesterday was playing. The Honeymoon Game had been a casual watch before, he’d explained. Not a nightly ritual like Murray. Given that he had a girlfriend and was a boyfriend himself, it had become fun to view.

She was only half-focused on the TV’s talking heads. Her mind was drifting to moving day, which filled her with gladness. She examined the plaid walls, the white cream color ceiling, the knick-knacks strewn about in the glow of the setting sun. The lantern with an owl hanging in the corner; the green, plastic drawers by the television; the curio cabinet... They were all a part of 8J, but assuredly not a part of him. How much would he be bringing with him, she wondered. And what would he be leaving behind?

“With one sugar and a shot of milk.” Arthur’s lively voice broke through her contemplation. Ah. He was reacting to the questions posed to the contestants, and making the answers about her, as he was wont to do.

She nestled back into the pleasant warmth of his firm frame. “Three sugars,” she replied, confirming she knew how he took his coffee. They continued to play along, with him showing off everything he’d memorized about her, and her replying with what she’d gathered about him.

Eventually, he shifted behind her. Raised himself on his elbow. “How did you know you loved me?”

Her hum was soft. Short. Possible responses were multitude. She’d suspected she could fall for him early on. When he’d wanted to repay her for doing what anyone should have done on the subway. And the first time he’d had the courage to call her after they’d split a slice of pie, his slight stammer revealing his nervousness. Maybe she’d say it was how slowly he’d drunken his wine during dinner, initially squinting as he sipped, his inexperience with alcohol obvious.

But she chose to go with what she believed was truest. What she assumed he’d hear most keenly. “Before we slept together, I hadn’t been with anyone for four years. And even then, it was different.” His hand splayed on her abdomen, thumb dragging along the waistband of her green leggings. A delightful ache flared in her center. “When I woke up, I felt perfect.”

“You felt like you were perfect?”

“No, silly,” she laughed, batting his forearm. “I knew I hadn't made a mistake. I reached out to your side, first thing - I’d thought of it that way, even then.” At the sensation of his hardening shaft against her rear, she giggled. “You’d made me so happy. You always do. I wanted to you to bed me again.”

The round tip of his nose skimmed her cheek, and she shivered at the dip of his fingers into her panties. “I want to again,” he rasped, paraphrasing her. The grind of his length was making her light-headed, and she twisted her torso to look at him. “I’ve been thinking about it.” Cheekbones glowing, he averted his eyes. “Ever since I woke up.”

“My monthly started,” she said regretfully. His descent halted, and a groan of frustration left him as he lowered his forehead to her shoulder. She mused. While he was becoming more apt to say what he desired, it happened rarely. But she loved it and didn’t want to discourage him from letting himself be assertive. Would he be offended by her suggestion? “I freshened up before we laid down. I have a tampon in. There are other things we can do.” She pressed her lips together, hoping she didn’t sound presumptuous. “If you’re comforta-“

“I’m comfortable.” His mouth quickly claimed hers, opening on a sigh. The tip of his tongue laved at the seam of her lips, and his messy enthusiasm made her whimper. Leaving a scorching trail in its wake, his hand traversed to her upper leg, gliding over the crease where her thigh and vulva met.

Shallow breaths caressed the nape of her neck, stoking the heat threatening to consume her. But the studio audience blaring from the television’s mono-speaker kept wresting her out of her haze. She snatched the VCR remote from the coffee table and hit the pause button.

The tease of his fingertips at her dark curls caused the peaks of her breasts to stiffen. She gasped as the rough fabric of her sweater dragged along them. His fore- and ring fingers spread her outer lips and she shuddered. The leisureliness of his fondling didn’t detract from its intoxicating effect.

Though it was a tad rough. “You’re kinda dry. Hold on.” Swiftly, he brought his hand to his mouth and wet his fingertips. Y/N blinked at him. It was clear he thought nothing of it, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering he’d confided he liked going down on her. Still. Seeing this normally reserved man improvise so he could pleasure her made her center throb with need.

Y/N was doing her damnedest to get her leggings and underwear down. Arthur snorted at her spirited, failed attempt at kicking them away. “It’s okay,” he chuckled, pushing them off her ankles with his foot. Then his touch fluttered at her swollen folds. She arched into him, already feeling as though she would burst. Bent at the knee, her leg lifted until her foot was flat on the couch cushion, allowing him easier access. He took advantage, sweeping forward and back along the rigid line of her engorged clitoral hood. She rolled towards him subtly, her moans getting louder with each tap to her sensitive nub.

Still holding himself up, he cradled her head. "Your sounds make me crazy," he said lowly. Once his hips started following hers, faintly rutting against the flesh of her backside, she closed her eyes. Hurriedly, she reached behind her to yank at his pajamas. "What?" he asked.

"I want to feel you," she whispered. There was a huff and some fumbling. And moments later his cock was settled at the cleft of her bottom. She bit her lip, savoring the weight of him. God, he felt wonderful.

His fingertips whispered over her clit, daring to follow the edge of her inner labia. She heard him gulp. "How does it feel when we're together? When- When I'm in you?"

"Warm. Full. Like you belong there," she replied with a smile. That last part of her response must have been unexpected, given that his grazes ceased and he trembled. "Don't stop," she whined, placing her hand on his. "Please, Arthur. You know just how to touch me."

Groaning, he started anew, deftly swiping quicker and quicker. The undulations of her pelvis hastened unevenly, begging both for release and for their coupling to last forever. She ran her palm up her torso, kneading her breast and plucking at her nipple. He nuzzled at her ear, grunting low in the back of his throat. Winding her fingers into his loose waves, she tugged lightly. Her belly twitched. Her whole frame tingled.

His skillful touch. The love they had for one another. The noises he was making in the crook of her shoulder. They all combined to throw her over the edge, and a wave of pleasure crashed through her. She cried his name brokenly, feeling empty without him inside her. But he kept holding her, guiding her through the crests of her climax. She was gasping, struggling to suck in air. Surely, she thought, he could detect the thundering of her heart against her ribs.

Gradually, the quivering grip she had on his locks eased. The kisses he planted on her neck were open-mouthed, desperate. And he hadn't halted the ardent movements of his hips. Y/N turned onto her other side. Gazing at him, she raked his curls out of his face, caressed his cheekbone with her knuckles. His look was hungry, darkened with need. The creases between his brows deepened as her hand trailed through the sparse dusting of hair on his chest.

There was a youthful charm to this situation, she considered. To them craving each other but not completely joining. It reminded her of being a teenager. When she'd been curious and horny, but nervous and not quite ready to go "all the way" with her ex. Being with Arthur allowed her to do all that again. To relive those experiences, to explore and make discoveries with him. To fall further in love with him daily.

She tenderly pecked the freckles at the top of his sternum, nestled against the notch above his clavicle. "I'm lucky to have you."

He didn't miss a beat, even as she trailed past the ticklish spots on his flank. "I'm luckier."

"I disagree." She outlined the slender muscles of his stomach, the v-lines leading to his cock. Played with the springy, brown curls at the base of him. "Without you, I'd only have my work. Which was enough before. But not now." After a moment, she concluded she was being sappy. She had to change it up. "And I wouldn't be having the best sex of my life."

Clearly flustered, he muffled his laugh. "Really?" His blush was prominent, his grin ecstatic.

"Really." Groans short and sudden, he rocked into her touch when she encircled his ample girth. Her fingers danced along his shaft, marveling at the contrast of his velvety skin with how hard he was. Pumping up and down, she tugged at him, trying to match the speed of his thrusts. He nudged his nose to hers, gazing at her before his hooded eyes flitted to watch what she was doing. Then she looked, too.

The sight of him fucking into her hand made her dizzy with want, even though he'd just gotten her off. The crimson, swollen head glistened, slick beading generously at the tip. Y/N licked her lips and spread it around him with the pad of her thumb. Moaning sharply, he bucked harder. Her motions quickened, flicking repeatedly at the notch on the underside.

Demand was implicit in the grasp he had on her upper arm. And it strengthened as his hips' stuttered, becoming unpredictable. Ragged pants hit her face. "I'm- I'm gonna make a mess.”

"It's all right," she soothed. Keeping ahold of him, she lay on her back. He followed and settled on top of her. Whimpering her name, he rubbed himself against her labia. But she gently pushed him onto his knees and continued palming him, her fingers teasing the ridge on his erection. It wouldn't take long to make him come. She could see it in the clench of his jaw, the tightening cords in his neck, his abrupt, needy cries...

Plunging forward, he held himself in place, grunting, clutching her urgently. His release hit her abdomen, warm and wet, and she gasped, her body curving up towards him. The feel of him spilling onto her couldn't completely distract her, though. Not from the beauty of his parted lips. Not from the relief that gradually spread across his features. Not from the slackening of his muscles as tension ebbed.

Sweat had gathered on his forehead. A droplet ran from the end of a dark brow to his jawline. Then he kissed her, his mouth groping at hers. "I love you," he said. He gave her one last peck and sat up on his knees. Holding onto the arm of the sofa, he retrieved her underwear from the floor and wiped her belly off. "That was fun." He tucked his chin bashfully.

"I concur." She entwined their hands and sat, then stretched as she pushed herself to stand and walk to the bathroom. The washcloth he'd designated as hers hung on the hook by the towels. She cleaned herself, listening as Arthur started the show again.

A new round of questions was just beginning. "When you and your spouse first met," the host started, "what was your first impression?"

Arthur's answer was instant. "Nice."

Y/N said the first thing that came to mind. "Handsome."

She popped her head out of the room to find him leaning on the entrance of the short corridor, beaming at her with hitched giggles. He was probably waiting for his turn to clean up. Like he normally did. But she couldn't stop herself from staring at him. Loving eyes met hers and his brows lifted expectantly. "Yes?"

Smiling, she wrung out the washcloth and put it back in its place. She stepped to him with a smile and smoothed his hair back. The rush of happiness in her soul, one she wasn't even sure she had, enamored her. Not only at what they'd shared on his old, scratchy sofa. But at Arthur being Arthur. At knowing soon she'd get to sleep next to him every night. Build a life with him, one she hadn't dreamed of even six months ago. Nothing she could say seemed adequate. So she went with a kind gesture, one she knew he'd appreciate. "I'll make us some decaf. And I love you, too."

~~~~~

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