#still learning how taglists work and basically lots of stuff on tumblr

[momobani]

Fire Brigade

THE WAY I hate YOU - chapter 4 - 11.4k

&team Nicholas x fem!reader - arranged marriage AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Sum: as you settle into married life, you learn a lot about what it’s like to share your life with someone else. 

Warnings: swearing, sarcasm, mention of food and alcohol, they’re both cranky goofs in the morning idk, allusion to questionable parenting?, depiction of drunkenness  

Soundtrack rec: You’re So True - Joseph Arthur (Shrek OST) [there’s just something about this song, i can’t pin point it, just listen. i can just see a montage of their moments together as this plays haha] 

Taglist: @nichoswag @seokka0o @sseastar-main @hyuckslvr @ssshasssh

A/N: i know it’s been 84 years, i’m sorry but life was hectic - for some reason my note keeps getting eaten by tumblr (fu!) but basically - life = hard, nicho -> nico (as per his own request on weverse lol), enjoy <3

Being back in your new apartment was strange.

It felt like you’d never moved in in the first place before your honeymoon. You cleaned up a little after you returned, going grocery shopping together for the first time instead of singularly getting your own food and sticking it in the fridge. 

At the cashier, you almost asked to pay separately but then you realised how weird that would sound because you were so obviously involved and like who does that really? Nicholas whipped out his card before you could unzip your purse so you let him pay this time.

At least you drove there and back, happily abandoning the firetruck (Ferrari) in the underground parking, much to Nicholas’ pouty dismay.   

You still had several days off, mostly because there was a weekend when you returned and you’d strategically planned your time off to encompass that without burning your vacation days unnecessarily.

You had to admit, sleeping in in the morning was nice. 

In the morning you took time to watch some TV, sipping your coffee in front of the screen. You decided that you really needed to catch up on some work related stuff because you were going back to the office on Tuesday and you’d better be prepared. 

So you spread your papers out on the kitchen table, opened your laptop and got stuck in. It was fairly quiet in the apartment and you thought Nicholas was probably still sleeping. 

It’s a surprise when he walks through the front door some time later, a little sweaty and wearing basketball shorts and a sleeveless tank top. There’s a water bottle in one hand and you immediately know exactly where he’s been and what he’s been up to. 

“Hey,” he greets you, depositing the bottle on the counter. “what are you doing?” 

“Working,” you say, only glancing up at him. “what’s it look like I’m doing? Writing a novel?”

“Well, it could be but I doubt a novel-” he wanders past you and peeks over your shoulder. He gets kind of close and you can feel the heat radiating off his body. “-requires a contract for the sale of pharmaceutical supplies.”

“Y’know, you’d be surprised.” you reply. 

“You still have days off, why do work?” he asks, genuinely confused. You again imagined what kind of utopia Nicholas’ office must be if he really doesn’t get it. 

“It’s not a big deal, it needs doing ASAP anyway. Mind your business, dude.”

“Fine,” he raises his hands in surrender. “but I invited company, I didn’t know you were working.”

“It’s fine, I’ll move.” you say, marking where you’d left off and starting to sort things.

“Okay, but we might be quite loud. The guys are coming over.” he explains. “Are you sure that’s not going to disturb you? We can hang out in my room instead.”

“It’s alright, I’ve lived with pack animals back when I decided to have an authentic college experience.” you shudder, remembering the shit you’d been through. You wanted an experience, and oh boy, did you get one. Between the constant revolving door of strangers invading your apartment to the loud roommates you had, you’d really gotten used to noise.  

“Sometimes I really wonder what kind of life you’ve lived.” Nicholas muses, looking at you curiously, as if you were an animal at a zoo exhibit.

You shrug just as your buzzer goes off. Nicholas presses the button that unlocks the downstairs door. You take the first pile of papers and crap to your room, realising you’re going to need two trips to get everything. 

You put the first pile in your room but accidentally knock the first stack of maybe twenty pages down.

“Shit,” you mutter, crouching to pick it all up. You shouldn’t have taken the big clip off it. 

By the time you come back for the second pile of stuff and your laptop, your doorbell goes off and Nicholas opens the door. 

You watch as a group of dudes roll into your apartment, all in their uniform of shorts and t-shirts or tank tops. You recognise their faces from meeting them at your wedding, but you couldn’t match all the names you knew to the faces, except maybe for Jo, who had got the first-come-first-remembered privilege. 

“Oh, hey!” one of them notices you and greets you too as they come in. He has a big smile and several ear piercings. You try to place him to a name, he was either Yuma or Fuma but you can’t be sure. The rest of them notice you too and all offer you various greetings. 

“Maybe this a good time for proper introductions.” Nicholas suggests. “Guys, this is my wife, YN. YN, these are the guys.” he says unhelpfully. You raise your hand in a wave. 

“Hi,” you say. “you must be the fire brigade.” you smile. The room full of confused faces almost makes you laugh. Nicholas does ask them to introduce themselves individually though, probably his attempt to dispel your sarcastic take. 

So the guy who greeted you was Yuma, not Fuma, who’s ironically standing next to him in a cute Pokemon t-shirt. There’s also Euijoo, who you recognise as Nicholas’ best man, Jo, who shyly gives you a tiny wave, and Kei beside Jo, which makes the two look like twin towers. Make that triplet towers, since Euijoo was next to them too. You wondered if their clique had a height requirement or something because most of them were giants.  

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say, finally gathering your things and taking your exit. 

“We’ll save you some meat!” Nicholas calls after you.

“Thanks.” you say over your shoulder. 

You’re halfway through the corridor when you hear the exclamations fill the room. It reminded you slightly of teenage girl behaviour and you thought it was funny. 

“Wow, you guys are getting on better than we thought!” you hear possibly Euijoo say.

“Dude, you didn’t say your wife was so hot!” you think that’s Kei’s voice. 

“Kei, you were at the wedding?” Yuma chimes in.

“Yeah, but he was too busy flirting with everyone else to notice.” a deeper voice comes in, probably Fuma. 

“Well, I had to entertain myself somehow, the whole thing went on for hours.” Kei replies. 

“Yeah! It’s not Kei’s fault he was born a pathological flirt.” Euijoo says in solidarity. 

“Bro, never talk about another man’s wife if you want to live.” Nicholas warns, only half joking. You can’t help but crack a smile as you close your door to their ridiculousness.   

You kept working, the noise level mostly okay since you were a fair distance and closed door away, but occasionally you could hear their excitement, loud laughter and yells travelling through the apartment. 

You wondered when it got incredibly loud, what they were doing, howling at the moon or something? Who knows, it was a group of grown men; who really understands the mysteries of dude-bros hanging out together?  

*

Some weeks passed without incident, your lives finding routine sleeping, eating and working, as you manoeuvred around each other every day. Despite you being worried about living with a roommate again, for the most part you led your lives separately but not completely severed from each other.

You went to work at your respective companies then came home and occasionally had dinner together, sometimes you even watched TV together or did your recycling. There were days when one of you went grocery shopping and asked the other if you needed anything, days where you cleaned the whole apartment, splitting off chores so you could be done quicker. 

You were lured into a false sense of security, you had to admit. 

And being relaxed didn’t hurt, but accidents did happen. 

Like the day of the most important meeting of the calendar quarter. 

You were meticulous, setting your alarm, preparing your materials and picking out your attire. Going to bed the previous night was smooth sailing and you conked out with no anxiety in your chest for once. 

The morning you had your monster shot coffee and a crispy yet perfectly soft inside bagel while you reviewed the notes you left in the margin of the document drafts. You cleaned up, purposefully leaving the small of stack of papers on the counter where you would see it before leaving the house and take it with you, while you got dressed. 

While you did your hair, you did happen to think of something more to add, so you wandered to the kitchen, your hair half-pinned up with clips while you styled it. 

Except the pile was gone.

Your jaw dropped open. How could it be gone? It was right there not even fifteen minutes ago. It can’t have just disappeared, could it? 

Panic started to rise in your chest as you looked around the kitchen; maybe Nicholas moved it so it wouldn’t get dirty on the counter. You deduce he’s been in the kitchen since you’d left because there’s a washed bowl on the rack beside the sink that you didn’t put there. 

You don’t find the pile after a minute of looking, opening drawers, cabinets, scanning the tables and whatever else there was in your kitchen. 

There was simply one conclusion - your papers were gone. 

You could hear Nicholas was in the bathroom and you decide to just ask him instead. 

“Wang Yixiang!” you yell, trying to get his attention. Not a moment later, the door of the bathroom is thrown open and hasty footsteps echo down the hallway, the perpetrator probably horrified of your tone. 

Nicholas bursts into the kitchen, still in his pyjama bottoms and a hoodie with nothing underneath; he did that a lot as a random habit of his that you’d noticed. There’s a spattering of shaving cream on one side of his face and the razor is still in his hand. You had no idea what he was shaving off though; he never seemed to have anything on that stupidly handsome face of his.

“I’m sorry! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” he says hurriedly before he’s even entered the room. He was clearly on the verge of freaking out at you calling his government name.  

“Did you happen to see a pile of papers that was on the counter?” you ask, cutting straight to it. 

“Papers?” he seems confused at the idea. 

“Yeah, I left a contract here, it was a small stack and had notes in the margin and tabs, but now it’s gone.” you say, starting to feel yourself grow desperate. 

Nicholas thinks for a moment, clearly unsure of what exact you’re talking about. How could that be though? He’s the only other person who could know what happened to it. 

“Hmm, let me see, I came to get cereal, got the milk out the fridge, then I hit my elbow, ate the cereal and after that I took out the trash since it’s trash day- oh no.” you look at each other in horror, then to the empty trash can beside the counter, brains putting in the missing pieces.

“Oh my god.” you breathe out. Then it hits you for real. “It’s trash day!” you exclaim, feet already moving of their own accord. You had to find that contract before it got taken away. 

“Don’t you have a copy?” Nicholas calls out, razor discarded while he stayed on your heels. 

“No! I told you, there was notes in the margin, and they’re super important and I have to have it with me today.” you were practically running down the corridor after you’d exited your apartment.

The two of you reached the elevator and you pressed the button, anxiety starting to make you sweat. 

“No time, stairs!” You announce, head spinning already, and turn when the elevator doesn’t come. You take two steps but Nicholas grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Are you crazy? We live on the tenth floor!” he snaps, holding you hostage. Before you can rebut, the elevator dings and the door opens. “See? C’mon!” you let him drag you in there, almost jumping out of your skin when you see your reflections in the mirror pane opposite the door.

Your hair was flying in all different directions, half of it styled, the other forgotten, while Nicholas paled as he swiped at the remaining cream on his face with a hoodie sleeve. 

“Just so we know what we’re dealing with here, hypothetically, if you didn’t have this contract…?” he says, trailing off. 

“The world won’t end but I may as well walk in there wearing a rainbow wig and a big, red clown nose and kiss this deal goodbye.” you describe. “Then I’ll have to answer to my parents, board of directors, and the entire department will be on my ass by the end of lunch because ‘nepo baby’ managed to fuck up the one job she had.” 

“They call you that?” Nicholas asks. You look away, counting down with the numbers of the floors that go by.

“Yeah, they do. Even though I have to work hard like them, it is my parents’ company. They’re right though, I’m not even sure what I’m capable of if it wasn’t for my parents making me work there.” you hated that you’d gotten to this subject, especially right now. 

“You still worked hard though, getting to where you are tod-”

“C’mon!” you ignore what he’s saying when the elevator finally dings as it got to the first floor and you drag Nicholas out as soon as the door opens.

You race toward the garbage storage space, heart thumping loudly; if Nicholas could just remember where he left the bag, in which container -

You open the door and find the garbage collectors already on the scene, rolling the large metal containers toward the street, where their truck was waiting. 

“Where did you throw it?” you ask desperately, looking around and seeing that some of the containers hadn’t left the premises yet. Nicholas looks like he’s about to faint. 

He doesn’t say anything but points in the general direction of the containers that are already sitting near the truck. You gulp thickly, realising what that meant. Somehow, it doesn’t disgust you and you act without thinking. 

“Excuse me!” you call out, trying to get one of the men’s attention. “Hi, sorry to bother you, but is it okay if we have a look at the trash? We threw away something important and it might still be around.”

The man hears you, turning around, giving you a once over, most definitely confused at your request. He considers it for a moment, then shrugs. 

“Knock yourself out.” he says. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Nicholas asks you as you drag him toward the containers. “Tell me we are not dumpster diving.” 

“Oh, but we are, roomie, we are.” you hum. He stands still in shock. You throw open the first container and flinch at the explosion of smell coming from the numerous black trash bags. 

“Are you deranged or something?” Nicholas shrieks when the smell hits his nose. 

“Listen, here:” you whip around to glare at him. “I am getting to that meeting with my contract, if it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. Now, dig, gremlin, dig!” you say through gritted teeth, turning back to the container. 

“You know what, don’t answer that. You must be.” he corrects when he sees you grab hold of the side, step up with your leg, and pull yourself up so you can reach inside the container. 

Now, normally you’d be so grossed out that you might have thrown up by now, but seeing as you could envision the embarrassment, tirade of disappointed faces of your parents, and sneering jeers of your colleagues, you started feeling up the trash bags without a second thought. You were going to worry about everything else later. 

Desperation makes even the most cowardly of dogs brave.

“What are you waiting for?” you bark back at Nicholas, who was just standing behind you, blinking dumbly. “Get in there and start looking!” you instruct. That seems to do it and Nicholas rushes over to the side of the adjacent container and flings it open, gagging at the smell but obediently rummaging around the bags.

There’s a tense minute while you try and feel your way through the container, looking for anything that might indicate paper on the inside, but you’re struggling to find anything. 

“Y’know,” you vaguely hear Nicholas grunt as he feels up a garbage bag. “I was just starting to like you but nevermind, I think I hate you.” he says as he squeamishly pushes away yet another bag. 

His comment doesn’t make you stop but it strikes a nerve. You knew he was probably talking shit because the two of you were practically knee and elbow deep in trash - in a reversed situation, you would too - but you were a little mad at him for not being more careful in the kitchen, and worse at yourself for ever leaving anything in there in the first place.  

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.” you reply, just as huffy as him. 

You keep digging but find nothing, your world suddenly becoming bleaker and bleaker. You had already decided to call in late for work and try to remedy the situation before the big meeting later in the day. You could think of some of the stuff that was written, but you’d lost some of the most important details. Not to mention your concentration and preparation had all been flushed down the drain.  

“Hey, we’re going to have to get going now.” you hear the garbage man say behind you. You glance over your shoulder and he seems like he couldn’t care less about your situation.

“Yes, right, sorry. Just a second.” you plead, desperately reaching into the container in vain.

“We’re already behind schedule, ma’am, I’m going to need you to step away from the trash.” he replies. You realise you’re being a nuisance but you can’t help it.

“YN, c’mon, just give up, we can’t find it.” Nicholas materialises next to your container. He sounds tired and hopeless, just as you feel. 

“But…I,” you attempt, heart sinking. You know they’re right, you need to go. 

“C’mon,” Nicholas steps up to the container and holds out a hand to help you get down. Your shoulders slump but you let him pull you to the edge and practically lift you out of the dumpster, his strong arms wrapped around your waist as he guides your feet to the ground again. “Sorry for the trouble.” he mumbles to the garbage man. 

You’re too numb to say anything so you just sort of nod politely at him as Nicholas steers you away and back into the building.  

“Ugh, I stink so bad.” he groans, voice cracking. You wait for the elevator and when it comes, your neighbours file out, doing a disturbed double take at the sight and smell of the two of you. You don’t care about keeping up appearances right now, your dejection running too deep. 

What were you supposed to do now?

After a moment of silence when you get into the elevator, you feel Nicholas look at you, hesitating at probably how hostile you must look right now. You were fuming, mostly at yourself. 

“I’m sorry.” he says gently. “I really am.” 

You soften ever so slightly but can’t help the tenseness in your voice. 

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring back the notes, but thanks for trying to find them.” you say curtly, coldly even. You know it was an accident but it still made a mess. “I’ll make do with what I have.” 

You get back to your apartment, Nicholas heading straight to the bathroom but you stop him. 

“The smell won’t come out with water.” you warn.

“Then what do you propose?” he asks, genuinely curious. 

“Vinegar.” you state. “We’ll dilute some with water since it might be too strong and clean the smell off before showering.” It was an old home trick for getting rid of smells; vinegar was practically a miracle worker. 

And you do.

Armed with a cloth each, you stand in your bathroom trying to scrub yourselves clean from the essence of trash that crawled on your skin. It had permeated your clothes so those had gone straight into the washer, leaving you in your underwear. 

“Can you get my back?” you ask Nicholas, when your arms fall short of reaching behind you with the cloth. 

“Sure.” then his hands are in your hair, moving it to sit over your shoulder, while one rests there to stop it from moving back into the line of vinegar. He swipes the cloth over your skin, quickly reaching from the waistband of your underwear to your shoulder where he lingers. “You’re so tense, jeez.”

“Whatever, just keep go-” he doesn’t give you warning before starting to massage your shoulders.

You groan out loud as he teases out a knot in the muscle immediately. There’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks at the noise that just escaped your lips but Nicholas doesn’t seem to care as he keeps kneading your shoulders with his large hands. You contain most of your noises but a few quiet sighs leave your mouth as he works your shoulders.

“Can I move these?” he asks, tapping on your bra straps. Your brain has already shut down so you just nod.  

It was unexpected and even though your first instinct was to stop him and tell him to quit it, your body had its own opinion on the matter, shutting your mouth and relaxing under his touch as he slipped the straps off your shoulders. 

Your eyes flutter closed at one point, your body swaying in the direction that your husband applied some pressure to your back. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, the warmth of his hands on your skin as he massaged your shoulders. 

“Feel better?” he muttered, mouth but a few inches from your ear, as he finished up.

“Much, thanks.” you sigh, coming back to reality. You do feel a little more warm in your cheeks than you should but you show no reaction. You reach for your straps but Nicholas beats you to it, sliding them back up your arms softly, his fingers grazing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. 

“Okay, now shower before you kill someone with that hair.” he chuckles, lightening up the mood. 

“What about you?” you turn to look at him. He shrugs, the bulk of his bare shoulders rising and falling.

“I have nowhere to be, don’t worry about me. Just get that smell out of your hair.” he instructs before vacating the bathroom. You’re left staring after him. 

You’d been mad at him just a smidge about the contract but he’d managed to ease his way back into your good graces with an apology and a massage. You guess it made sense; Nicholas was your friend now, and if any of your other friends did the same thing, sure you’d be a little mad but you’d forgive just as easily.

But there was something about the way none of your other friends would have done what he did, touch you like he did, stand close like he did. 

You banish the thought and scramble into the shower, aware of the ticking of the clock before your meeting. 

*  

You wondered why you’d agreed to come to family dinner at your house alone on Friday night. You should have really dragged Nicholas there so he could suffer with you, although of course, the hope was that with his presence, your parents would lay off you and focus on him, their precious, angelic son-in-law. 

He had let you know he’d made plans with the guys and offered you an alternate to family dinning, which you’d regretfully declined because you knew that your mother would never just let it go and would instead invite you to several consecutive family dinners and/or events to make up for the loss. 

You really were better sacrificing yourself for one evening than signing yourself up for a plethora of others.  

Regardless, you should have known better than to hope this would be a marginally pleasant evening. Without Nicholas there, your parents, mainly your mother, had taken to grilling you over entrées. And the main course. And you predicted dessert.  

“Are you being good to Nicholas?” your mother asks. “Have you been cooking and cleaning enough around the apartment?” she continues without pause. 

“Yes, mother.” you say. You weren’t lying, it’s just that you had an agreement to share everything fair and square with Nicholas, including all the chores, bills (mortgage too, naturally) and other expenses. 

“Are you sure?” she continues. “He’s got no reason to be mad at you, has he?” she inquires, her eyes unnaturally wide.

“No, mom, he doesn’t.” you say, regretting your decision to drive because now you couldn’t at least drown out some of the nagging with alcohol. 

“Then why didn’t he come along for dinner? You invited him, didn’t you?” 

You almost roll your eyes but hold back because she’s watching you. If she looked away more often, you’d probably get a headache from rolling your eyes. (Growing up under her roof, it had been the most common cause of your headaches. That and tension headaches.) 

“Yes, of course I did, but he made plans way before so he couldn’t cancel.” you explain for the tenth time. 

“Well alright then, I suppose.” your mother concludes. 

Finally, you think. 

The whole scene was eerily starting to resemble an episode of Gilmore Girls and you were in the role of Lorelai, fending off your mother.

She was practically treating you like devil spawn and Nicholas as if he was their own son and you had stolen him away and trapped him into a heinous marriage. You half wondered if you had dinner alone with the Wangs, was that how they’d treat you too? You could only guess they weren’t incredibly fond of you either from the way you’d initially refused to marry their perfect son. Clearly, parents, your own or other people’s, didn’t seem to like you very much.  

Your father and Maki were also at the dinner table, minding their food, and possibly fearing for their lives. You knew what they were like; if they were chewing, their ears seemed to close off. 

By the time you got to the main dishes, you’d fielded questions about Nicholas from your mother, and the apartment, but also work questions from your father, which you skilfully managed to not go into any detail on, lest he pick up on something being wrong at work. 

Maki helpfully tried to steer the conversation away too, asking random questions about the company, which your father was more than happy to answer because his youngest was taking an interest in the family business. You were grateful to Maki but you worried this might give your parents the green light into throwing him in there with you. 

Your father was plenty capable.  

He’d probably also hear about how your meeting had gone in the office - there’d been a lot of back and forth (which you’d instigated) to avoid getting to anything too serious while you still hadn’t recovered details of the contract you’d lost.

It had resulted in scheduling another meeting some time later, giving both parties time to reconvene and finalise their sides of the deal. 

By the time you finished the main course, your mouth was dry from all the bullshitting you had to do. As soon as you finish your portion of dessert, you figure it’s time to jet. 

“So, I should get going and go home, y’know, to the husband you picked out for me.” you start only half-sarcastically. “Thanks for the dinner,” and the shakedown, you think. “could I take some dessert for your beloved son-in-law? He likes this kind of thing.”

“Well, YN, I’m glad you’ve learned what he likes.” your mother says. You wait for her to finish her sentence before having any hope of even a tiny compliment. “You may take some home, but next time just bring him here for dinner, instead of taking home scraps and left overs, it’s embarrassing. As if you can’t afford a full meal.”

“Mom, I told you, he really had plans and I did beg him to come.” you fib, hoping it sells. 

“Alright, alright, I believe you.” she concedes. “But you shouldn’t beg your husband for things either, it sets for an awkward relationship and it’s embarrassing.” she continues. 

You should have known something mildly positive would be followed up in this manner. You sigh and wait for the house keeper to bring you a box for the dessert. 

You get up and get your things by the door, then hug Maki goodbye and ruffle his hair, whispering a quick “Hang in there, kiddo.” to which he just looks at you blankly, dimples popping. You felt bad leaving him there with the hyenas (your mother). “You poor thing.” you lament, patting his arm, as you put on your shoes.      

“Drive carefully,” your mother says after you say your goodbyes. “and don’t forget you have that charity event in a couple of weeks. You have to go with Nicholas.”

“Yes, I know. You told me several times already. It’s in my calendar.” you take the box of dessert and open the door. “Goodnight.” you call and leave before anyone can say anything more. 

As soon as you get inside your car, you let out a frustrated grunt, hitting your steering wheel with the palms of your hands, releasing a sound that would compete with wild animals. You just needed to get that out of your system because there was only so much pent up frustration you could take.

Once you calm down, you start the engine and go on your way. The dessert sits in the passenger seat as you precious cargo as you drive through the night, windows down, playing some songs you’d curated specifically for after family dinners. 

You sing along because the roads are empty and no one’s around to hear you sing like a strangled cat. It’s the exact catharsis you needed, expelling all that energy while the moon hangs full in the sky, so you’re in an improved mood by the time you walk through your front door. 

After you kick off your shoes, you go to the kitchen, slippers smacking loudly against the floor as you walk. The sound of your arrival must have alerted Nicholas because he appears while you’re getting a glass of water after depositing the dessert in the fridge. 

“You’re back earlier than I thought.” you observe, putting the glass down with a ‘click’ on the counter.   

“Yeah, the thing with he guys didn’t last as long as we thought so I came back early.” he explains, plopping down to sit at the counter. “How was dinner? You seem disgruntled.”

“Excellent observation.” you frown, thinking of the best word to describe the ordeal. “It was rather disagreeable.” you attempt. 

“Oh? That is most unfortunate, Mrs Wang. Something happen in particular?” he listens attentively. 

“Your mother-in-law says hello and sends her regards. Need I say more?” you raise your eyebrows at him. He’s wearing a loose grey t-shirt and looks sleepy already, which you note is odd because if you had learned anything about your husband, is that he was, by personal preference, nocturnal. 

“Ah, lovely.” he nods in understanding. “Sorry, I let you fly solo.”

“I wasn’t totally alone, Maki was there, but he can only say so much.” you say. “Anyways, I got you something.” you remember to bring out the dessert from the fridge again.

“Ooh, what’s that?” Nicholas perks up at the sight of the box. You almost laugh at his sudden rejuvenation.

“Dessert. The one with the strawberry sorbet.” you hum smugly when his eyes light up. 

“Wah, that’s great. Is it my birthday?” he smiles as you open the box and offer him a spoon. He seems to change his mind in a split second and his face falls, suddenly becoming serious. “Are you trying to poison me?” he interrogates, face full of suspicion.

You tilt your head sarcastically. “Totally. Tis part of my elaborate scheme to become a young widow.” you deadpan and start to take away the spoon but Nicholas stops you and accepts it. “Trust me - if I was going to poison you, you wouldn’t know about it.” you add, gulping down the rest of your water. 

“Well, that’s reassuring.” he hums while looking at the contents of the box.

“Bon appetit!” you give him a toothy smile and breeze past him. 

*

To say that mornings with Nicholas were a pain, would be a gross understatement. 

From what you’re seen on your honeymoon, your husband was most certainly not a morning person, but you had yet to see in detail just how grizzly the situation could get.

It was kind of ironic because Nicholas was a well put together guy; he knew what he was doing, worked hard at it and did it without a fuss. He seemed like the ultimate catch - young, rich, tall, handsome (others would say sexy too and you would agree, objectively only of course), funny, smart, polite, respectful, well mannered - but of course, nobody’s perfect and it didn’t take a genius to work out that mornings were Nicholas’ weakness.  

For the most part so far, the two of you had differing schedules and you barely ran into each other in the mornings, mostly taking turns in the bathroom if anything and giving each other a heads up if you were particularly in a hurry that day or the next day or whenever. 

Today however, you had a meeting of the boards of directors for your two companies. It was mostly oversight for the progression of the merger and a chance to hear from the heads of the companies to brief you on the vision for how the merger should go. Your and Nicholas’ presence was without a doubt mandatory and possibly even the highlight since everyone would be talking about you two. 

You woke up like clock work, a couple minutes before your alarm and stretched out like a cat before getting up to hunt for coffee (your cavemen ancestors would be shocked). You walked past Nicholas’ room and heard his alarm going off, relieved that supposedly he’s awake. 

Supposedly. 

The coffee machine whirs quietly as you prepare two cups since you figured Nicholas would want coffee too, but you don’t hear his door opening or in fact, any noise from his room. You pad over to the corridor to listen out and pick up the sound of a second alarm. It sounds promising so you don’t think too much of it and go back to drink your coffee.

It’s been ten minutes when you decide that something is wrong with Nicholas. 

You leave your half drunk coffee and his untouched one on the counter and go knock on his door.

“Yo, Nico, you awake?” you call out. You strain your ears to hear a response, leaning onto the door itself. You hear an unmistakeable groan. “I know you’re alive and in there, now get up!” you shout, hoping the louder the message, the more likely it is to get through to him. 

You leave to finish your coffee but when he still doesn’t get up, you roll your eyes and stack your cup on the pile of dirty dishes waiting to be put into the dish washer. 

“That’s it.” you mutter, determined to make him shift. You fill a glass with cold water, stopping by the freezer for ice and then make your way back to Nicholas’ room. 

You were starting to worry that you were going to be late for that stupid meeting since it was already a quarter to eight.   

You bang on his door almost violently. “Wang Yixiang, get your dumb ass up or else!” you call to another groan of what sounds like ‘go away’. Your blood pressure spikes and you snap. “I warned you, I’m coming in.” 

And you yank the door handle and enter the room. 

You find Nicholas in just pyjama pants, sprawled face first in his bed, blankets and sheets tangled up like a war zone while he hugs an extra pillow and a wolf plushie sits on the opposite side of the bed against the headboard. His hair is a mess and splays all over his face and pillow as he still dozes despite your loud attempts at intervening. 

You hesitate for a second because he looks so peaceful, then you remember that you have somewhere to be.  

“This is a warning shot.” you say and dip your fingers into the water to grab hold of an ice cube.

You launch the ice cube unceremoniously and it plops onto Nicholas’ bare back. He jolts at the contact and a low moan sounds from the back of his throat. Your eyes widen as you feel a wave of queasiness wash over your lower abdomen. 

What the fuck did you just do? Did you press the wrong button? Is he malfunctioning? Does he need to go for an MOT check like a car? 

The noise sent you reeling and you wanted to run away but the ice cube did nothing. It just sort of slid off of his back and he shuffled a little, getting comfortable again. You sigh and nod to yourself. You hoped it wouldn’t need to come to this.

“Right.” you say. Without another moment to lose, you hold out the glass over Nicholas’ bare torso and tip your wrist so the water comes spilling out.

The water splashes all over his back and it sends Nicholas flying up with a piercing screech. 

“What was that for!” he yelps, shaking off the water off his back and reaching for a blanket to wipe it off. You would stay to have a full conversation about this, but you’re already on your way out. 

“You’re late.” you chastise. “And if you’re late, then I’m late. Now get up or I’ll come back with a bucket.” you warn as you sweep out of the premises.

“You know you’re meaner in the mornings!” he calls out after you. 

“Thanks!” you reply over your shoulder. 

Needless to say, you usher Nicholas into your car ten minutes later, him almost dressed as he finishes buttoning up his shirt and does his tie in the car, then styles his hair in the passenger seat using your overhead mirror. You try your best to avoid a pothole but manage to run straight over it by accident. Your car jolts and Nicholas groans in frustration when his hair swishes in a different direction. 

“You couldn’t let us be fashionably late.” he mutters. 

“I’m never late. Fashionably or otherwise.” you inform him. “Get used to it, hubby; you roll with me now.” you say as you manoeuvre the steering wheel. 

“Alright, got it, Sergeant.” Nicholas holds up a hand as if swearing an oath.

“Next meeting, we might even make it on time.” you sass back as you pull up to work and exhale. 

This was going to be a long day. 

*

Before you could blink, it was the last day of the calendar quarter and you were dreading it because it’s the day that you and your uncle gather to have coffee and talk about work, less in a boss and employee way and more of an uncle-niece thing. It was the first time you’d ever felt apprehensive to talk to your uncle since he’d had a part to play in your arranged marriage and you were still disappointed in him.  

You’d always been closer to your uncle than your parents as far as you could remember. Probably because he didn’t keep you on a leash and command you around but respected your independence. He’d even tried to stop you from going to law school unless it was definitely what you wanted. You had no idea why he’d done that at the time (you were still in high school), but after a few years, you now appreciated the gesture.

Now, you weren’t so sure what he was going to be like after letting your parents push you to Nicholas. You still remembered his face that day; impassive as if he didn’t care about you at all. There was a still a lingering feeling of betrayal when you thought about what your uncle had done.

You took your normal route to company rooftop, your coffee mug hot in your hand as you made your way outside. 

Your uncle was waiting at your usual table, the tiny one at the end of the row closest to the edge of the rooftop balcony. From there, you could see out to the city and watch the sun set. It was just after work hours officially ended so the cafe at your company had closed already but you each bought a mug from your offices and sat down.

You walk up to the table as briskly as your coffee would allow you and sit down in the empty chair. 

“Hi, uncle.” you attempt. He half-smiles, his fond demeanour unchanged as always. 

“Hello, YN.” he replies. “Are you ready for a chat?” 

The question hangs in the air, for some reason, you feel it entails more than your usual this and that about work. 

“Sure.” you say, cautious. 

You end up telling him about some of the finalised negotiations you made this quarter and catching him up on some of the cases you’d been assigned. After a while, it feels natural and you confess that you’d messed up a little with that contract but you don’t tell him it involved Nicholas.

In fact, you don’t mention Nicholas at all and try to move on as if there was no massive elephant in the room. It’s definitely starting to annoy you, skirting around the subject but you try to stay steadfast despite how it irks you.  

Your uncle figures it out anyway. 

“Something bothering you, dear?” he asks, voice totally unintrusive.

“Not really,” you lie, but your eyes shift to your half-drunk coffee. Your uncle sighs and puts his mug down.

“Listen, YN, I’m not a fool, we should talk about it.” he says. “I know you’re probably displeased with me for pairing you up with Nicholas, but you’ll just have to find it in your heart to accept it.” he continues. “I am not expecting your forgiveness, although I would be relieved to hear it. What was done was for your own good. I hope one day you’ll be able to see that.”

It hurts to hear the same rhetoric from your uncle as it came from your parents; the whole ‘for-your-own-good’ thing made you want to pull your hair out, yet you realise that coming from him, it feels all the more painful. 

“I understand that you’ll keep giving me a cold shoulder and I’m okay with it, I suppose, but I need you to remember that everything is temporary.” he meets your eyes. You sense something odd for a moment when he says that, but you don’t react. “Besides, you might even end up liking Nicholas, he’s a good boy.” 

That seems to spur you into action.

“Uncle, it’s not about that.” you reply adamantly. “Nicholas is great, he’s really not the problem. The problem is that you still let my parents dictate such a huge decision in my life - I trusted you to not do such a thing. You’re better than that.” 

Your uncle pauses for a moment. “You agreed eventually, didn’t you?” he asks simply. 

“Well yes, but it was because I was scared they’d do something to Maki. You know they would pick on him if it wasn’t for me.” you argue. 

“YN, your parents are complicated people, but they’re not quite as evil as you believe them to be.” your uncle says gently, the way you try to talk to little kids and rationalise a situation which they find stupid (and usually have a right to find as such).  

“Well, you’re related to one of them, you kind of have to say that.” you remind him, rejecting his philosophy.  

“I’m saying it because it’s true. Try to understand them a little more. Alright?” he pleads. 

You look at your uncle and see that he’s trying - he’s trying to be the bridge in this family and you have to give him something to work with. 

You nod reluctantly, not because you agree with him or want to understand your parents, but because you wanted to go easy on him for the sake of not creating issues in your family as a whole. Sometimes you couldn’t have compromises and you needed to be more patient and the bigger person. 

You knew where he was coming from; of course people are complicated and do things for complicated reasons, including hurting their loved ones. You believed that it was possible that it could be true they weren’t so bad but also true that some people just weren’t nice, weren’t kind, weren’t understanding by nature. 

In that line of thought, it wasn’t even about the specificity of your situation. It was that you knew there’s truly nothing completely black and white in the world - your relationship with your parents had always been full of greys, differing shades of blurriness contorting your feelings towards them for your whole life. 

You put the topic down quietly and resumed chatting about this and that, the whole thing weighing you down just a bit before you concluded and bid your uncle goodbye, going home immediately after that, although you’d planned to stay longer. 

“Fuck overtime.” you hum as you get into your car. 

The rest of your evening is fairly quiet, you cook dinner for yourself after Nicholas sends you a text about a haphazard night out with his friends and to not wait up for him. It’s completely fine by you since you really needed some time alone to stew about everything; your conversation with your uncle had sent you spiralling.

Were you being unreasonable? Should you be less angry at your parents for setting you up with Nicholas? You’d meant it when you said he was great, not that you’d say that to his face ever and watch it become smug and delighted. 

The thought passes as quickly and fleetingly as it had come. You were dead set in your bones to resent your parents because what they did was wrong - it was about your autonomy as a person and they’d violated that on some level. You acknowledged your agreement only to the point of technicality - yes, you’d gone through with it willingly despite hating the situation. 

That was then. Now it was a couple of months later and the extremity of the feelings had died down and you were occasionally forgetting their misdeeds, so your meeting with your uncle had served as a reminder that you shouldn’t forget or really forgive it just because nothing awful had happened. Or at least yet (you knew nobody was insured about anything).  

It gets late around midnight before you hear your front door unlocking.

You were just sitting on the couch, watching TV, a rarity in your busy life, when you hear several sets of footsteps stumbling into the house. There’s hushed voices shushing after a particularly loud noise. 

“Nicholas?” you call out, switching off the screen and getting up to check out the situation. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Nicholas yells loudly before even seeing you. The tone is shrill and very alarming and makes you freak out immediately.

In the hallway you find a quartet of men, your husband amongst his friends, the fire brigade. Nicholas is standing- no- leaning on Kei, clearly out of his mind, as well as a complementary identical Euijoo and Fuma, the latter supporting the former in his arms. Their clothes all seem to have the marks of some drizzle and you deduce that it must be raining outside.

You make a face, taking in the scene. “What the fuck is wrong with him?” you ask generally to the presumably slightly sober parties, already knowing the answer. There are a couple of guilty looks exchanged between Kei and Fuma.

“He’s drunk.” Kei admits sheepishly. 

“I figured, how bad is it?” you ask. 

“Baby, what are you talking about?” Nicholas interjects, eyes glazed over as he leans his head on Kei’s shoulder. “I feel great!” he grins. There’s a wildness in his eyes that makes you worry. You don’t even spare a thought on the name calling.  

“He had a bit.” Fuma offers but he seems uneasy to elaborate. 

“How much is ‘a bit’?” you push for details, sceptical.

“A glass.” Kei says. 

“Of what?” 

“Tea.”

“What kind of tea?” you interrogate, already knowing the answer.

“Long island ice tea.” Kei mumbles, lowering his eyes to the floor. 

“You let him drink what!” you exclaim, outraged. “Of all the things you could have had, how on Earth did Nicholas end up having a cocktail with four types of alcohol in it?” you shriek.  

You look at Nicholas, who has been clinging to Kei, hanging off him like a little koala. Euijoo cringes at the volume of your voice as he seems to doze off on Fuma’s shoulder.

“We’re sorry. It was kind of an accident.” Fuma says, clearly ashamed. 

You had never drunk with Nicholas before, save for the tiny bit of wine at his parents’ and the sip of champagne at your wedding, so this was a serious shock. Was your husband a serious lightweight? Did you even know him? Clearly you had only scratched the surface of Nicholas trivia if this had never come up till now. 

“Yeah, he’s not really built for alcohol.” Kei says apologetically. 

“But it’s okay, we’ll take care of him, and Euijoo.” Fuma adds quickly.

You look at the way Euijoo is basically sleeping in Fuma’s arms, surprised that Fuma can hold him up so well when Euijoo is a few inches taller. Kei on the other hand seems to be struggling with Nicholas’ affection - while you were talking, there was an attempted piggy back that Kei had to gently fend off. On closer surveillance, Nicholas seemed to be a clingy drunk with a bad case of grabby hands.  

“No, it’s fine.” you find yourself saying. “I’ll take care of him, I did marry this mess. He’s my responsibility now.” you tell the elder two. You couldn’t imagine the ruckus they would collectively make so you decided it was better that you just take over. 

Kei’s eyes light up in gratitude while Fuma seems even more guilty while cradling Euijoo’s head to his shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” Fuma asks, his voice full of concern. You nod reassuringly.

“You guys can go, I’ll make sure he’s okay.” you insist. Despite meeting them for the third time today, you most certainly were strangers and you didn’t really want them hanging around your house, even if they were Nicholas’ friends. 

“You’re a badass, YN, thanks.” Kei gushes while guiding, more like carrying, Nicholas to the couch. You give him a nod of acknowledgement while standing between the hallway and living room. 

Euijoo seems to stir, clearly having some kind of sonar or telepathy or something because as soon as Nicholas is a few feet away, his eyes open and he looks around as if he lost something.

“Noooo,” Euijoo whines, trying to follow. “don’t take my bestie away…” his attempt is curtailed by Fuma, who pats his back gently. 

“Nico’s home, Joojoo, don’t worry about it. You’ll see him tomorrow.” Fuma explains. “Sorry about this, YN.” he says to you when Kei comes back. Euijoo seems dissatisfied with the current chain of events but pouts about it quietly. 

“Right, he’s all yours.” Kei says before going to stand on Euijoo’s other side and take some of his weight off Fuma. “Let’s get you home, buddy.” he puts one of his arms around his shoulder and the three of them start to make for the door. 

You open it helpfully and stand aside, letting the two older men half-carry, half-drag Euijoo away. 

“Thanks for bringing Nico home in one piece.” you say as you bid them goodbye. 

“Good luck.” Fuma gives you a ‘fighting’ gesture with his closed fist in solidarity.

“Thanks, I think I’m going to need it.” you bid them goodbye and close the door, bracing yourself for what lay ahead. 

In the living room, Nicholas has managed to stay where Kei left him, splayed all over the couch like a pancake, staring upwards. You round the couch and assess the situation; he’s very much out of it, eyes unfocused and mouth ever so slightly opened as if he was fascinated with the colour of your ceiling.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” you begin. You decide to get some water and painkillers for the inevitable hangover he’s going to get in a few hours. 

There’s a moment of silence while Nicholas shuffles, sitting up but still leaning into the shape of the back of the couch. He seems to register you talking to him, which by the time you stand in front of him with the glass of water, makes him animate suddenly, his body switching gear. 

“YN!” he says, as if shocked. 

“Yes?” you offer him the glass but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Let’s go dance outside!” he exclaims, his face bright with excitement. He starts to get up but seemingly feels dizzy since he flops back down on the couch, clutching his head. You blink at him, unable to understand the thought process. The request was neither here nor there, really. 

“We can’t.” you say simply. “It’s raining. See?” you point toward the window where the drizzle seems to have escalated and the drops are sliding down the glass. 

“Yeah, well it rains inside too.” he mumbles when you put his suggestion down.

“Y’know, I’m not sure it does.” you hum, amused at the comment while you place the glass on the coffee table. 

“But the shower,” he insists. “it’s inside rain.” he says. You purse your lips, biting back a laugh at how convinced Nicholas seems that the shower is really rain. 

“Okay, alright.” you say, nodding to yourself. “Let’s get you to bed, you need to sleep this off.” you start to lean down to take hold of his arm.

“I don’t want to sleep.” he whines immediately. Instead, he takes hold of your arm and looks up at you with big eyes. “I’m hungry.” he pouts. 

“Okay, what do you want to eat? I’ll make it for you.”

“You will?” his eyes light up with delight. “I’ll eat anything you make.” 

The way that alcohol seems to keep its chokehold on Nicholas suggests to you that you should probably opt for something that will ease the problems that would follow.

“Hangover soup it is.” you state, trying to shake Nicholas off so you can get to the kitchen. 

When he doesn’t let go, you sigh and tug him up by the hands so he stands up. You help him stumble across the room to the kitchen part and sit him down at the counter where he slumps immediately and rests on his crossed arms, looking up at you, the dopey look resting on his face. 

You start to gather the ingredients, which thankfully your fridge contained because you’d been shopping yesterday, but that’s when the babbling starts. 

Nicholas seems to have found some new energy because once his mouth opens, it doesn’t seem to close. 

“Is that beef? Oh my god, it is, I love beef. Are you going to cook the beef? ‘Cause I know this killer recipe for a beef stew and you just have to try it. I used to have it as a kid but my parents never made it for me, it was always this nanny I had and she was awesome. I really miss auntie, YN, I really miss her. She was the best. Are you going to make the beef like she did? Maybe you can get the recipe from her, oh! You should meet her, she’d love you!” and as much as you wanted to listen to everything, your brain sort of switched off when he got on another tirade as you started slicing the cabbage and other veggies for the soup. 

He starts to run out of steam by the time you get to putting the sauce you prepared on the beef and the cabbage and he just sort of leans on the counter, face in the palm of his hands and watches you. 

Then comes more absurdity. 

Nicholas giggles distinctly and smiles to himself. 

You only react out of concern, putting the lid on the pot. “What is it?” you ask. 

He shakes his head bashfully and doesn’t say anything but continues smiling. 

“Fine, don’t tell me.” you mutter, putting the broth to the beef and adding the cabbage. You’re starting to feel a little paranoid; was he laughing about your cooking? You knew you weren’t a Michelin chef, or even as good as he was in the kitchen, but you weren’t that bad, right? 

“Hmm, I’m happy.” he says, fingers squishing his own cheeks. 

The statement takes you by surprise. 

“You’re drunk.” you correct, unsure what to make of it. 

“Don’t you wanna know why I’m happy?” he leans forward, as if trying to get your attention. 

You shrug on reflex. “Happiness is fleeting and overrated.” (as is alcohol within your system). 

“Boooo! Why are you like this, huh? You’re so cute, you should be happy too!” he insists. You side eye him but let him continue. “My cute wifey should be happy, like me. Let’s be happy together!” he laughs, as if he just solved the world’s problems. 

You stare at him, slightly horrified because a) who the hell was he calling his ‘cute wifey’ ‘cause that sure as hell wasn’t you, and b) how would you be happy together when you were living in a loveless marriage?  

“Nicholas, I don’t-”

“No! Stop it! I won’t hear it, I want everyone to be happy. End of discussion.” he babbles, clapping his hands together once, as if he’s hitting a slate. 

You’re baffled - you’d forgotten what it was like to talk to drunk people.  

You hate the way his words pierce through your thick skin and land somewhere soft where it hurts. You knew he was drunk, but he must be drunker than you thought.

If anything, his declarations made you sad because who knew what the future holds? You didn’t dare fantasise these days, for fear that if you did daydream, everything in your life would fall apart and you really would spend a life time with Nicholas instead of finding the love of your life. Would that bring you the happiness you’ve been brainwashed to expect in life? 

Despite yourself, you held on to the belief that whoever it was, this figurative love of your life person, they were out there and you might still have a chance to find them even if you were or had been married to Nicholas. The thought was a sick and twisted hope as you prepared the soup, quietly hating yourself for thinking it while you were just hanging out with the man that was for the present circumstances, your husband. 

You couldn’t reason with the guilt; its grip was too strong but you were a romantic at heart and nothing that had happened between the two of you had been romantic, at least in your view. Being forced to marry each other wasn’t exactly romantic, was it? 

Your soup is finally ready and you turn off the heat, bringing out a bowl. Nicholas has been lying on the counter, his cheek against the cold surface while he sits in one of the tall chairs surrounding your island. The clang of the lid seems to shake him and he straightens up then stares at you suddenly with a newfound focus. You start to think there’s some dirt on your face. 

“You’re so pretty with your hair like that.” he notes, as if it just occurred to him. You almost spill the soup in your hands as you process the random compliment. You don’t think much of it though, because this is how you wore your hair almost every day so it was definitely some unconscious thought fuelled by that wretched cocktail. 

“Eat up.” you instruct, putting the steaming bowl in front of him. He grins at it, as if it was his first born child. You make a mental note to never bring alcohol in the house. 

“Thanks!” he says happily but instead of digging in, he starts to pat his pockets. 

“What are you looking for?” you ask, sure you were going to have to solve this one. 

“My phone,” he says, searching his pockets to no avail. “but I can’t find it.” 

You sigh heavily and reach to your right, picking up the device and holding it out to Nicholas. It had been sitting on the counter the whole time, but how could you expect his drunk ass to see it?

“Ah! Great.” he says and takes it, holding it up to the bowl. “I have to take a picture, my cute wifey made me a meal.” he giggles. You want to scowl at the new nickname but the goofy way he says it makes it hard for you to fight a smile trying to break through. 

“Watch it or it might be the last meal I make for you.” you warn, no force behind your words. 

You let him eat, just relieved that he’s not saying any more weird things. His battery had run out a while ago so he hadn’t been so bad when he was just resting on the counter. You were already thinking ahead about how you were going to get him to sleep. Drunk people tended to get sleepy after a while so why hadn’t he yet? 

The conundrum bothers you while Nicholas finishes eating. 

“Are you ready to go to bed?” you test the waters tentatively. 

“Nah, I’m not sleepy,” he says while a yawn follows.  

“Oh thank god.” you sigh in relief at the yawn. His brain might be saying he’s not sleepy but his body sure was; you just had to wait for his brain to catch up. 

“What?” he asks. 

“Nothing.” you say quickly. “Well, let’s get you to your room, I won’t make you sleep.” you lie. 

It’s barely a trek to his room but you definitely struggle through the hallway because Nicholas for some reason thinks that he’s the size of a tiny lap dog and you practically carry him to bed. You almost manhandle him to lie down, his body falling limp onto the mattress and you pull the blanket over him before he gets any ideas of getting up. 

“Hang on a sec,” you tell him, going to get the water, painkillers and a bowl in case any of the iced tea or stew makes a reappearance. “Alright, do you need anything before I go?” you ask. 

“There is one thing,” he says after a moment. “come closer.” he says quietly. You worry he might try to snuggle you to death but you indulge him, perching on the edge of his bed. You lean closer, listening. Nicholas looks up at you. “I have to play Mario Kart right now, YN. It’s life or death.” he pleads. 

You straighten up immediately, your blood pressure wavering. 

“Oh, it’s life or death, alright.” you mutter. “Might kill your dumb ass if I ever catch you drinking again.”

That seems to change his mind pretty quickly and you can almost see his non-existent tail curl between his legs.

“Alright, if you need anything, just shout, I’ll leave the doors open.” you tell him. “Goodnight.” you start to get up but he catches your hand before you can step away. 

You’re surprised and think he must have thought of something so you turn, watching him expectantly. 

“Don’t go.” he says in a small voice. It was possibly one of the lowest decibels you had ever heard him talk at. 

“Why? Don’t you want to sleep?” 

“I don’t want to be alone.” he admits quietly. His voice makes something lurch in your chest. You gulp, considering his request.

“Okay, I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” you promise, sitting back down. 

Nicholas nods and cozies up in his blanket, still not letting go of your hand. 

You watch him for a moment; his eyes are closed and his chest is falling and rising steadily as if he’s already asleep but you know better from the python grip of his hand around yours. There’s something peaceful though in his expression despite that, the same tranquillity that had made you hesitate before waking him up some time ago. 

His words echo in your mind and for a second you let your heart break a little because you knew that you were luckier - you had Maki, but Nicholas was the only heir in his family. You were older but you didn’t exactly remember a time that you didn’t have Maki in your life. You wondered what it was like to grow up alone, missing the presence of a sibling.

After a few minutes, Nicholas seems to drift off, his hand loosening but still wrapped around yours. You want to untangle yourself and go but you worry about waking him, so you slide to the floor and sit against the side of the bed instead, predicting that he’d move around in his sleep and you best avoid that or he could wake up from that too. 

What you don’t expect is that you drift off too. 

You wake up in the middle of the night for a second but it’s only to shift around, your brain not registering that you’re sleeping on the floor in someone else’s room. 

The next time you wake up is in the morning, you can tell by the light in the room, but you’re no longer on the floor. You’re lying in a bed, a blanket thrown over you that you’d been snuggling into. You inhale the smell of the pillow and blanket you’re cocooned in and your eyes snap open. 

You forgot this wasn’t your bed.

You flail about with desperation as you sit up and notice that beside you and the cute wolf plushie positioned next to your pillow like a guard dog, Nicholas’ bed is missing its Nicholas. You glance at the clock on the bedside table and do a double take; it’s around eight, on a weekend, and Nicholas was already out of bed? 

“Did the sun rise in the west?” you wonder out loud, flicking off the blanket and getting up. 

When you open the door of his room and pad into the hallway, you can already hear the distant clattering around in the kitchen. You smooth a hand through your hair and make your way there. 

If it wasn’t for the time of day, the image you were seeing wouldn’t be out of the ordinary; Nicholas did spend time in the kitchen cooking too, knowing his way around confidently. Yet, what you were seeing makes you suspicious. 

Nicholas notices you coming and gives you a sheepish greeting. 

“Morning, you hungry?” he asks. 

“Uh,” you let your brain buffer. It felt like a trick question. “I guess.”

“Good, I made breakfast.” he turns back to put the finishing touches on the meal while you sit down at the counter, hesitatingly. 

On closer inspection, he does seem hungover - his movements are a little slow and his slouch is visible unlike his usually good posture, but otherwise, there’s no sign of last night’s drunken Nico. 

You’re presented with a cup of coffee from your machine, just the way you like it, then a plate of fruit cut up and arranged neatly and finally a pretty large stack of pancakes with a little chocolate sauce that spells out ‘sorry :(’. 

“I really am sorry.” Nicholas adds for good measure, twiddling his thumbs opposite you at the counter. 

You can’t help but smile at the pancakes a little because they really were cute.   

“You’re forgiven.” you say. “Just please never consume alcohol ever again, thanks.”

“You got it.” he promises.  

~

more memes!!! chapter 4 edition <3

A/N: thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated <3 yn finally met the fire brigade! yes i know i didn’t write in taki and harua, that was deliberate, it’s not that i don’t love the babies, it just doesn’t make sense for them to be in this chapter haha, they will appear, i promise. also the vinegar thing is true - it’s good for getting rid of smells, just fyi.

*copyright 2021- © momobani 

[strawb3rrystar]

📝, 🤩, 🙊, 🦉, 🟥, 🤷‍♀️, 🍎, 😱, 📈, ⏳, 😁, 🌷 for the ask game!

(star, pretend like this isn't just you sending yourself an ask, and make it believable)

Oh my goodness! Thank you for the ask anon! (fuck you star, i do what i want)

📝How many words do you have posted?

Across all of my posted fics: 43,547 words

🤩 What's the most meaningful comment you've ever received?

This - post under this fic

Still very confused by this babe! And any and all comments i get really (special shout out to @sweetadonisbutbetter @jgabriel1920 @emgunther & @saints-wrapped-in-plastic)

🙊Your coworkers or classmates stumble across one of your fics, but don't know you're the author. Do you fess up? Or keep quiet?

I might be the only one, but I've told all my irl friends that i write fanfiction. All of them are very supportive of me because fanfiction makes me very happy and i assume they're happy for me. One of my best friends (who's a guy) and practically pokes fun at everything I do, doesn't poke fun at fanfiction. In fact, he's the one who suggested I should start taking commissions because my writing is that good.

🦉Is there another author that helped inspire you to write?

@oleander-nin inspired a lot of my tmnt posts, mostly the yandere ones. As well as many very talented creators in the community. (srry if you don't want to be tagged in stuff like this Ollie, I just really like ur works!)

🟥How long do you spend in edits?

TOO much time. let me walk u through it tho. There's a divider under the title. Then the pairing, warnings, word count and masterlist. The actual header of the fic. A divider under the fics, then Star's notes and my thanks. A divider under that, then the taglist. But then I also have to figure out the word count, add the link to the masterlist, and add tags. And then make it look pretty with all the fancy tumblr tools.

🤷‍♀️ What's a fic you didn't expect to be popular, but really took off?

Hazbin Hotel characters longing for you. Never expected to make it in the HH scene in the first place.

🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic?

Rabbits rarely have heat cycles. So the saying 'fucking like rabbits' when referring to fucking many times in a short amount of time is basically pointless.

😱What's your greatest fear as a fanfic writer?

Dying (aka losing my blog)

📈 Which are your top three most popular fics?

Hazbin Hotel characters longing for you - 1,827 notes

Stop stealing my FUCKING CARROTS BUGS BUNNY - 1,731 notes

Taking him - 1,670 notes

⏳If you could go back in time and tell your younger writer self something, what would it be?

DO NOT WRITE THAT BAKUGO FANFICTION LITTLE STAR!!!

😁What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?

Comments and asks!!

🌷What's one of your fics that isn't as popular, but you hold dear?

Broken promises is one of my longest fics, the best written, and has the same feeling as in the books. Yet it only has 79 notes! But I love it, made me cry while writing it, in a good way.

[strawberrykake]

⎯⎯ ୨ TAGLIST ୧ ⎯⎯

(edited)* reply to this post if u want to be tagged! <3

You will be tagged in: 🍙 reader-insert fics/imagines, 🍓 short headcanons, 🍬 scenarios (basically my main posts)

You will not be tagged in: 🍰 reblogs, 🧀 smaus, 🧃 misc -> don’t wanna spam you >.<

If you’d prefer, you can just shoot me a message instead! :D +anything specific you’d prefer not to be tagged in ++or if you wish to be untagged of course, LMK!

taglist ｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡ @dai-tsukki-desu @crystal-lilac @remajalabill @ashisbored @yuubabe @wonpielle @wakatshi @peachynayeon14

[bukojuiice]

—the lovey-dovey things they do with you while you're both stuck at home during quarantine

ೃ chars: izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki, eijiro kirishima and shinsou hitoshi x gn! reader

ೃ  tags: headcanons, fluff

ೃ  warnings: none!

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr!  

ೃ  if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

katsuki bakugo: cooking and baking with him! it all started on a cozy afternoon in April, you’re mindlessly scrolling through tiktok whilst cuddling with katsuki (your sparky bf practically asleep in your arms) when you stumbled upon some cute and interesting cooking videos appearing on your fyp. katsuki peers through your phone and groggily asks if you want to try out and attempt to make some of them and you immediately say yes!

the two of you start with something simple and basic, dalgona coffee! (even playfully arguing whether or not you should adding more whipped cream to your drinks or not), after that, you then take your culinary journey a bit further by making some baked sushi, cloud bread, and mini donut cereals among many other scrumptious delights! after a while, you decided to buy some matching “kiss the cook” aprons online and even started a tiktok account detailing all of the special twists katsuki made to the recipes (although he absolutely refused to make an account at first, with some probing and dozens of pouty faces and puppy eyes coming from his adorable significant other, he finally gives in) dancing and kisses in the kitchen, spreading flour on each other’s faces, leaving sneaky love notes by the fridge, and making each other coffee in the morning were just some of the little add-ons the two of you would do with each other.

izuku midoriya: online escape rooms and virtual museum tours! the national museum of japan were offering some free virtual tours around the museum and the two of you could not just pass up the opportunity to see all the intricate pieces being displayed in the museum. however, izuku wanted to experience something else that's similar to that and so, after seeing an ad on twitter for an virtual escape room experience, izuku excitedly told you about it. jumping and hopping around like a little bunny and you couldn’t help but agree as seeing him so happy and so excited for something will never fail to make your heart flutter. the two of you immediately book a reservation and even bring out your virtual reality gears for the full immersive experience. you’re clinging to his arm the whole time as you virtually traverse a horror escape game and your freckled boyfriend tries his best to be brave just for you.

with both of your intelligent and inquisitive minds combined together, with the occasional soft couple bickering, and having to listen to izuku murmur to himself for several minutes,  the two of you solved 7 escape rooms (for a week straight) in a span of three hours each. the two of you take turns in doing the tasks of the game, and whoever fails to do so, has to do the other person’s bidding for the entire day. although the two of you could never force the other to do any mean-spirited dares to each other, most of the bidding you told each other to do were peppering each other kisses on the cheek, long and warm hugs, choosing the movie for the night, cuddling in the bed and holding hands among many other things.

todoroki shoto: binging movies and tv shows on netflix with him! this was the perfect opportunity to help your icy-hot boyfriend finally indulge in everything pop culture. and what better way to do so than on netflix and other streaming sites? the two of you end up watching every romantic movie dear to your heart. mixed with bed or couch cuddles, blankets wrapped around the two of you, a lot of cheesy and loving whispers said, and paired with some comfort food you ordered online. your watching area varied. sometimes the two of you would watch in the bedroom, living room, and sometimes you would even make a pillow fort with dangling fairy lights attached to it filling the tent with fluffy stuff toys to lie on just so that the two of you can watch on the floor.

shoto cried when the two of you finished watching the notebook and the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. and all you did the entire night was give him all the hugs and kithes you could provide him. ever since then, the two of you opt for more light-hearted movies. rom-coms, disney movies and sitcoms where he endlessly referenced iconic lines from friends, the office, how i met your mother, and brooklyn 99. the days in quarantine go by with the two of you just mindlessly singing and dancing along to disney songs, rewatching rom-coms for the umpteenth time, reenacting some scenes from iconic movies with dry yet hilarious acting, and just discussing movie theories whenever he cutely and innocently asks you about some small details he missed every time you finish watching a movie for the day

eijiro kirishima: training and exercise routines with him! your shark-toothed boyfriend is a fitness buff through and through. to the point that a room in your house dedicated to just gym and fitness equipment exists. but when quarantine struck the world and your lovely home, you slightly lost your motivation to work out. eijiro continues to encourage you to do so ofc! with the two of you occasionally going outside to jog but aside from that, nothing much else. when he catches you watching a chloe ting video on youtube, he scoops you up from the couch, and you giggle trying to tell him to put you down yet he refuses to do so, as he carries you all the way to your little gym room. you notice that there are yoga mats sprawled about and since then, the two of you would do a lot of yoga as it has been proven to decrease anxiety. sometimes the two of you would get distracted and start dancing to the exercise music, accompanied endless laughter and giggles when kirisihima would do his daily planking exercise with you sitting on top of him as he does so.

there were also times when the two of you were so tired and sore. so you would give each other loving massages, there were also times when the two of you would just sleep it out or just lounge in the bed. excercise couldn’t stop your cravings and so, and there were also times when the two of you would do some food mukbangs you’ve been craving for recently.

shinsou hitoshi: playing video games with him and taking care of your little pet kitten! right before quarantine started, shinsou surprised you with a pet little kitten that the two of you decided to name gigi, named after the cat from kiki’s delivery service. the two of you always running around the house as if you were parents to a newly-born baby, watching your cute little kitten frolicking around, touching and interacting with everything he could find. after watching some “cat parents” videos on youtube and learning some tips, you attempt to give it a bath, resulting into a very wet failure. with the only time you can feel peace and quiet was when gigi was asleep or whenever he would be drinking his vet-approved milk. your quarantine life was hectic and chaotic but taking care of a cute little bundle of joy with your equally loving and handsome boyfriend... well, life couldn’t get any better than this.

when you were finally able to get the hang of the cat parents life, you and shinsou finally found the time to rest and relax by playing video games. may it be a horror, action, adventure, rhythm, or fantasy game, you were always playing with him. maybe as a player 2 or just as the supportive significant other who helped him solve puzzles, make story game choices that could change the game, and even help him with the buttons if he was trying to fight some hard boss. whenever there are jumps cares in the game, he would hold your hand and give you reassuring pats. whenever the two of you would play against each other on the other hand, he has his arms wrapped around you, with you still being extremely focused at the game at hand, he would give you pecks on the cheek to try and make you distracted so that he can win. your little pet kitten, gigi, sleeping on the couch as the two of you play to your heart’s content.

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34​  @lovelytarou​ @ramunegoddess​, @serossimpy @laudthingcat​​

[imaginativeamateur]

[Sharing Corner] Tips on Starting a Fanfiction Blog

This post is the story of my blog and some tips for anyone that wants to start blogging! A big shout out to @rinnegankakashi for mentioning me, otherwise, this post would not exist in the first place.

I pitched the ball with the mindset to improve my English (in fact, I even put it in the description once😅😅) because I'm not a native English speaker. My story is quite funny to tell. When I started blogging, I was watching Naruto and reading others' works on Tumblr. And I thought they were amazing, and so can I. That being said, I'm amateur and can't be any more amateur😅 but I believe everyone has room for improvement.

Generally, the most important tip I can give you when starting a blog is that you must adore what you do and you must be willing to dedicate your time and energy to it. For me, looking at y'all interactions boosts my energy so much. The second most important one is that you should be able to balance things out. You shouldn't spend too much time on this and neglect other aspects of life. The third one is being persistent. My blog was quite 'uneventful' at first and I definitely felt the input wasn't matching the output. However, everything soon turned the other way and I can't be any happier right now with its current status!

More specific and technical tips👇:

Organizing your blog:

Generating a theme: Aesthetically speaking, I think you should plan how to organize your blog (masterlists, taglists, format for posts, tags, images for posts if you plan to include them, fonts, borders, colors, etc.) Even though it's solely written works, it will definitely be more interesting to work on polishing your blog's appearance, too. For my blog, I'm currently using 'Lilac' by @seychethemes. I changed some stuff around but the basics are still credited to the original creator, a huge huge thank you💖.

Setting your boundaries: Make sure to state what you write and what you are UNCOMFORTABLE❗️ writing about. In my opinion, making it clear in the first place is crucial to avoid any misunderstanding or just undesirable circumstances in the future. I put my 'boundaries' right in the Masterlist, in the Disclaimers section.

Taking request: This one totally depends on you but there's an opportunity cost to it. If you take requests, it might feel a bit pressuring sometimes, that's why having a balanced life is crucial, again. But you'll have a lot of ideas if you open requests (my readers are brilliant💖💖). I suggest if you want a mix of both, close your requests when you have received a certain number of inboxes. Hence, you can also consider opening special requests for events.

Adding a tip jar: Very necessary😝😝!

Planning your content:

Establishing a concrete structure: In my opinion, what you want to write about varies impulsively over time (mine does for sure🙃) so I make sure to have a list of formats or genres that I write for (drabbles, short series, collections, short fics, headcanons). This way, I know when to get back at times I drift away--which unfortunately happens a lot😢.

Knowing your strength: I think if you want to produce great pieces, knowing what areas that you'd shine the brightest with fanfictions is necessary. For me, I can show my full potential with fluffs, mainly corny, overly dramatic (it's cheesy but it's the truth😝😝).

Not forcing yourself: Writing is a creative process and you'll lose creativity when you're forced into it. For me, sometimes it just takes an hour to pour out pages of writing. But for other times, I'd sit for hours rewriting the same paragraph. So if you don't feel like it, just leave it aside, go do other stuff, and get back at a later time.

Coming up with ideas: As to how I came up with my ideas, I use old-school mindmaps🤓. I come up with different roles that the reader could partake in and stem off from there. For example, I'd have the reader be a childhood friend of that character and write about the moment they reunite. I think another essential strategy is to just use anything around you as an inspiration. For 'The Bracelet', I literally looked at a bracelet I won at a fair, and BOOM! a child was born😎.

Reading others' works: Read, read, read. You'll be able to learn their different styles and see what would work for your different pieces! You'd also learn more sophisticated words, too😂!

Writing your masterpiece:

Dealing with repetitive diction: It's a pain in the butt for me, especially since I'm not a native speaker so I don't really know many ways to express something. I mainly use Thesaurus for single-phrased words. And this website is the painkiller😂. There are many great resources online and even on Tumblr. Search for 'body language cheatsheet' or something along the line.

Sounding smooth: I definitely recommend reading your work out loud. It helps with identifying awkward structural issues and grammar, too. This also helps with making the dialogues less stiff.

Achieving 'the mood': To set a specific mood for your work, I personally think that paying more time to describe the setting is crucial. Choosing the right words is important, too. I recommend closing your eyes and imagining the scene before you start writing😇, really helpful for me!

P.S.: I really appreciate you for reaching this far. I just want to say thank you so much for your patience. I've been quite inactive for the past few days on Tumblr due to placement tests in school. But I'll return with some fics this weekend, hopefully!

And to prospective writer @rinnegankakashi, I'll be so glad if we can do a collab soon😙😙! And sorry for the late reply!

Have a great day, Everyone!

[severetimetravelnerd]

Let’s Switch Things Up (ft. MINO) (2)

Part 2

Minho just keeps surprising you.

A/N: Heyy! So this is my new series, that I’ll be updating every Thursday. All images I’ve used in this moodboard that I’ve made are just representative of the emotions, not the way the reader looks :))  Please show this lots of love!

Comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist.

Taglist:   @herewecomeitsjekki  ; @kwonnansi ; @happiestgirlontheeastcoast ; @unabashedturkeytreeslim; @to-all-the-stories-i-love​

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know!

Word Count: 2028

Warnings: Suggestive, snarky? Mentions of cheating

——————————————————————————————————-

He paused and blinked a few times.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. What did you just say?”

You laughed.

“You heard me right. I’m attending my ex’s wedding. And he’s marrying my friend who he cheated on me with.”

He tilted his head to the side.

“I don’t understand.”

You laughed again, a little more bitterly.

“Yeah, neither do I. I’m only going because of my best friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the first time in ages we’ll get to meet in person.” Your eyes softened. “And I really miss them.”

The guy had a light smile on his face.

“I get it now.”

“It’s just that… I know I will be made fun of for not having a plus one.”

You shook your head at his raised brows.

“Yeah, a lot of my old classmates can be mean.”

He inched a little closer.

“Could you tell me what happened? Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

You shrugged.

“Yeah sure, I don’t mind talking about it.”

You took a sip of water and began.

“So, all of this happened two years ago. We had been dating for three years. And I knew that something was off. It was understandable. He was very busy with his job and I was busy with mine. We weren’t getting time to spend with each other. And every time I tried, it seemed like he would try his best to get out of it.”

You smiled sadly.

“I know. I should have seen the signs. But he was my longest relationship. And we had been friends for years before dating. I trusted him. When he told me that he’d have to spend two months abroad for work, he wasn’t lying and I didn’t doubt him. At that point, things were just really strained and he was very stressed. So, to make things a little easier for him, I introduced him to my friend who lived in the city he’d be working in.”

You paused, grip on your dress tightening slightly. You didn’t notice that he noticed.

“And from there, it’s pretty obvious what happened. Soon, he started ditching my calls saying he was busy. He just never told me he was busy with her. And then, one long weekend, when I flew over to surprise him, I found her in his bed.”

He surprised you when he reached over to hold your hand, gently rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. You stared at him for a bit, trying to gauge whether he was trying to make a move on you or whether he was just being nice. Looking at his eyes, your heart melted a little. He was definitely just being nice.

“Yeah. I really should have seen it coming. But I didn’t. I saw them together and walked straight back out and took a flight back home. I packed up all my stuff and left home for Seoul.”

“You just packed up and left?”

“Yup. Needed a change of scene. I couldn’t deal with being in that apartment anymore.”

He nodded.

“I understand.”

He didn’t really understand, because everything seemed too sudden for him, but somehow for you, who just started talking to a stranger on a plane who seemed scared, it fit. He looked down at his hand. He didn’t know what possessed him to hold your hand, but again, it just seemed right, even if it was something he had never done before. He found himself opening his mouth to ask you something.

“So, they’re getting married now?”

“Yeah. And it’s not a normal wedding. They had to make it an all-expenses paid wedding that goes on for literally three days.”

“Okay. Wow.”

“Yeah.”

And although you looked perfectly content, something told him that you were upset. Again, he didn’t know what he was doing, because he just wasn’t an impulsive or spontaneous person, but he found himself retracting his hand to shake yours. You looked up with an eyebrow raised.

“Hi. I’m Song Minho and I’d be more than happy to be your plus one for this wedding.”

You widened your eyes.

“Oh. Oh wow. Are you sure? You don’t have to if”-

He shook his head. You studied his face for a few seconds before grinning.

“Hi then Minho! I’m Y/N L/N. And I’d love to have you as my plus one.”

---

“So, tell me a bit more about your ex and his fiancé. I don’t want to be clueless when I meet these … interesting people.”

You nodded and whipped out your phone, pulling up some old photos.

“Okay, so I know this is a group picture, but he’s the shirtless one in an apron and she’s the one holding a cake.”

Minho’s jaw got ever so slightly tense when he realised how alone you were in the picture. Sure, your ex’s hands may have been draped over your thighs, but you were struggling to keep a smile on your face. It was so obviously fake. And your ex was so obviously unbothered by it.

“Ah okay. What’re their names?”

“Andy and Liza.”

“Okay, tell me more. How did you meet?”

“Oh right. We were in high school together. At that point, we were just friends, but when we ended up working the same part time job in college, things started changing and one day, after months of flirting, he made me a cake with the icing saying, “Will you go out with me?””

Minho forced a smile.

“Hmmm romantic.”

“It was. It really was. He wasn’t always that bad. He…just got incredibly forgetful over the years.”

Again, Minho found himself saying something he never would.

“So basically, he took you for granted?”

You paused, stunned for a moment.

“Yeah, yeah he did.”

There was a moment’s silence before you turned to him.

“Okay, so if we’re going together, we have to know basic things about each other. So… how do you feel about twenty questions?”

Minho hated twenty questions, but he nodded anyway.

---

An hour or so later, you pouted as Minho helped you with your bags.

“We weren’t done with the game though.”

He finally managed to get the last of his bags and started walking towards the exit with you.

“I know, but don’t worry. We can figure this out once we get to the hotel.”

“Thank you so much Minho. I honestly can’t explain how much it means to me, especially since you’re here on vacation.”

“No, don’t worry about it. My friend was a little busy for the next few days anyway.”

Lies. You would soon learn that whenever his left eye twitched, he was lying.

“No, but still”-

“Y/N!”

You froze. You’d recognise that voice anywhere. Before you could react, you felt Andy’s arms wrap around you as he hugged you.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you could come!

Minho stiffened when he noticed how uncomfortable you were with Andy’s overfamiliarity. Minho didn’t like him. Something about his behaviour with you was odd. Liza also hugged a visibly uncomfortable you and smiled.

“Y/N! The reason this is all happening!”

Your fake smile slipped. And that was when Minho couldn’t watch this anymore. Again, he found himself doing something he would never otherwise do. He walked forward, wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer.

“Hi. You must be the happy couple.”

Your tense body relaxed a little when you heard his voice and felt his arm around you, which was odd. You always took a while to warm up to strangers. Andy’s expression tensed though.

“And you are?”

Minho stuck out his hand.

“I’m her boyfriend.”

Your breath hitched for a second and a light blush spread across your cheeks. You had been planning on introducing him as a close friend. Oh well.

Andy took his hand and smiled a visibly forced smile.

“Oh, I didn’t know she was seeing someone.”

His grip on Minho’s hand tightened.

Minho’s eyebrows shot up. Oh. So, Andy was that kind of guy. The one who felt oddly possessive over his girlfriends no matter how badly he treated them. Scum.

Minho’s grip tightened even more.

“Well, I doubt you know much about her anyway.”

Your eyes shot up from your fake smile to stare at Minho in shock. You did not see snarky Minho coming.

Andy just stood there for a minute with his eyes wide. He couldn’t believe what he heard. When he finally got around to reacting, Minho had already moved on to shaking Liza’s hand and offering her a smile. It was fake, and you knew this because every time he had smiled at you, with that ridiculously adorable smile that just lit up his whole face, you found yourself melting. Andy, however, interrupted your thoughts. In a mocking tone, he asked,

“I’ve known Y/N for 8 years. How long have you known her for?”

You glared at Andy, and wrapped your hand in Minho’s, prepared to leave and apologise to Minho about Andy’s behaviour later, when Minho replied in a tone of pure ice.

“Long enough to know her worth.”

Your jaw dropped. Liza’s smile was long gone and Andy was practically red with anger. So was Minho. On the outside, he seemed calm, cool and collected, but he hated the way Andy treated you and felt so entitled to your kindness. The way he treated you when you were so clearly uncomfortable was just the tipping point. A smile tugged at your lips, even though you made a half-hearted attempt to glare at Minho. He pulled you a little closer, shooting you the smile that made you lose track of thought.

Andy was furious and it was clear Minho wasn’t going to back down. It was also clear that you weren’t going to do anything to stop Minho. It wasn’t like Minho was lying about something. You were at an impasse. So, when Liza awkwardly suggested they show you guys to your room in the hotel, everyone jumped at that chance.

Half an hour later, the four of you walked in awkward silence as Liza led you to your room. She offered you a genuine smile.

“Here you go Y/N. We picked one of the pool facing rooms because you like those.”

You struggled, but smiled back at her. It was their wedding. You were not going to be unnecessarily mean.

You and Minho walked in and when you saw the large bed in the middle of the room, your eyebrows shot up. Natasha, one of the two friends you had really missed, told you that all the rooms had two beds. 

“Why is there only one damn bed here?”

Minho blushed and looked away, but you jumped when you heard Andy.

“Why? Is sharing a bed a problem?”

You turned around to find Andy right behind you, about to lean on your shoulder. Before you could even react though, Minho stepped in between.

“No, absolutely not a problem.”

“Oh yeah? Then why did she sound so annoyed?”

Both you and Liza were glaring at Andy, though for very different reasons.

Minho closed his eyes for a second and decided to just go for it. No matter what happened, he would not let Andy bother you any more than he already had. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close.

“We had a bit of an argument before getting here. But we’ll be fine, right babe?”

If you thought your heart was beating fast because he called you ‘babe’, when you looked up at him and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, you thought it would burst out of your chest.

His hand slipped a little lower, from your waist to your hips and played with the knot holding your dress up. He had the most wicked smirk on his face when he mumbled,

“Besides, these things have a way of working themselves out, right princess?”

Andy let out disgusted snort, grabbed Liza’s hand and stomped off, but you didn’t register any of that. You could only register the look in Minho’s eyes and the way your knees were weakening. Did…did you like him?

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

Copyright © 2020-2021 @severetimetravelnerd All rights reserved.

Any unlawful and unauthorized sharing of these works will result in legal action.

(Reblogs are good :) )

[thestudyfeels]

100 Days of Sweat

Welcome to the official admission post for the 100 days of sweat challenge! *plays the conquer theme song and does a booty pop* This is a pretty long post, but has everything you need to start, so read on!

READING TIME: 6 minutes.

OoOh? What's that?

Thanks for coming out of the cave! In short, it's a consistency challenge to turn working out into a habit.

You've basically got to move your body for a 100 days straight. No slacking, no backing out!

Most take on this challenge personally, but I felt accountability would be great for those beginning with exercising & those who can't seem to keep their streak (cough, me).

Sounds fun! How do I join? Do I need to do a booty pop too?

Booty pops are appreciated. But here's how!

1. First things first, decide whether you'll be joining via IG, Discord or staying on Tumblr.

2. If using IG, reply to this post with your handle or (alternative) if you'd like, join Discord instead! For that, click here to join the server!

(NOTE: Those who joined via the first post I created regarding this needn't reply again! I've already added you to the list.)

3. Lastly, boost this! Reblog, get your followers to join! Drag your friend or sibling in! (already dragged my bestie into this in case no one joined in lmao)

Important PSA: yO, ANYONE can join! All my beginners and winners, young teens and old pals, drarry fans and johnlock shippers, team cold water AND hot water (sparing y'all because I stan working out more), EVERYONE!   

Here's what I'll do: 

I'm creating an IG group for those interested in staying fully committed. (Pros include making friends! Or enemies, for a hundred whole days! Some of you might even get married together, I have high hopes because wedding cake is everything)

Sayani from @studign-stars will be the admin for Discord! You can hit her up for queries, if any. 

In short, there'll be 3 separate groups. One for those joining via Discord, one for those on the IG group, and a third for those staying on Tumblr.

If you wish to use any other platforms like Snapchat and Twitter, feel free! Also plug your progress on Tumblr too so we can hype each other on! (tag stuff with #100dos)

+ That said, I highly suggest joining either one of the groups, for accountability does wonders. It's now up to you, fellow warrior.

How to prep for this challenge:

OhO! There's a whole lot prepping to be slayed. To finish this challenge as smoothly as possible, here's a few steps. Make this easier for yo’ lazy bum.

1+ Firstly, grab a marker and scrap paper (when you on a student budget, cuz same) and write down numbers from 1 to 100. I did 1 to 30 to prevent myself from being overwhelmed, but do right them numbers to gain momentum.

2+ Take couple before photos. From the front, and the side. If you don't want to, take them anyway and store it in a folder you never open. Also measure your weight, and if you have a measuring tape, take other basic measurements of the chest, waist, arm etc.

3+ Coming to the main part! Pick your 'base’ routine. This is the primary workout you wanna do 2-3 times a week. It's the main course!

For beginners, I suggest choosing a 15 min full body workout. Do try it out before you start 100 days— make sure it's challenging enough.

For those who already move their bodies, pick a workout that aligns with your long-term goals. If you want toned legs, pick a leg day routine. If you want abs, focus on abs.

My base routine is the Beginner's Bodyweight Workout (BBW) from the NerdFitness website. I do 3 sets of the entire routine (takes around 25-30 mins) thrice a week.

So, do some research and pick a workout! Doesn't have to be an hour long at all, just make sure it's time-effective and challenges you.

4+ Find your cheat day workout.

Yikes, the wording is kinda incorrect, but anything for the clickbait.

This is the workout you do 2 days a week, and is the second most important workout. (This means: 3 + 2 = 5, you’ve now got five days planned!)

I do Alexis Ren’s ab routine (I hate it) twice a week because abs are my target zone. For you, it could be arms, thighs, butt, anything!

5+ Leave your last two days for simple moving.

It's up to you to decide what's going to be cooking in the remaining two days. For suggestions, you can pick a fun activity, say yoga, handstands, cartwheels, splits, any form of dancing like hip-hop, Zumba etc.

I'm trying to do a handstand this year and get my middle splits already (I fell off track so I still have quite a way to go) so I'll be stretching and doing hand flexibility exercises in the last 2 days.

Or you can just go for a jog or a power walk. Just keep the momentum going!

A quick recap:

To summarize, you're doing a major workout 3 times a week, a toning workout (mine is abs) twice a week and a fun activity in the last two days.

Also, mix this up. Your muscles need time to heal, and I strongly emphasize leaving the next day free for lighter activities after doing a major workout. Here's my routine, as an eg:

Do remember that this is just a STARTING POINT, because we don't want you to wake up everyday and be like “wut I do today.” It's now your mission to plan your workout routine. Consider taking more workload or reduce it as per your level (this is definitely a lot, try reducing if you're just beginning).

Also important: DETERMINE your workout routine NOW. I spent 2 years (only stopped like 3 months ago) doing YouTube videos haphazardly. This works, because you are working out after all, but it's a pretty lousy method if you want consistent results. Also makes you depend on motivation to workout (which has probability results equal to me marrying Tom Felton), whereas if you had a routine, you'll have to workout because it's in your schedule and you'd be a loser to lie to your schedule.

Is this a lot? It's a lot. I know.

If this is overwhelming you, don't back away darling. Face your fears. Here are some reasons to not back out—

The entire challenge is flexible: You don't have to follow that routine ^ if you don't want to. Starting out, you can do a major workout 2 times a week and fill the other 5 days with fun stuff. You can always change the routine later, 100 days is a long ass time.

The challenge fucks with your mindset and strengthens it: 100 days of continuous movement is CRAZY. Can you imagine how strong (mentally too!) we'll all be at the end? You'll have grown so much!

Working out will become a habit: I've been working out for 2 years now, and it has positively affected every single sphere of my life. Exercising is the #1 habit I suggest everyone build. Since science says it takes 66 days to build a habit, we're ON it.

You'll be really proud of yourself: I know I'll be. I'm literally going to hug y'all at the end of it, and sing jingles about how far you've come. 2019 will have been slayed.

I could go on and on, but this is it. Now's the moment. This is about doing something you're afraid of. Taking risks. Learning, falling, getting back up.

Thence, ladies, gents and non-binary pals, THIS is the 100 days of sweat challenge. You're cordially invited to it.

(We're dramatic, yes.)

🌻 !!! MAJOR PSA & DEADLINES:

The challenge itself begins on 10th April, 2019.

You'll be added to the IG group latest by 7th April.

Because I'm your mom, I'll add everyone in, tell you the details and everything. If you’ve got any questions, jump into my inbox now and get them answered.

That said, please remember that I won't take anyone in midway (no, not even if you buy me free tacos for a year). So join in now & spread the message! The more, the merrier! Bring beer too!

Thanks for joining in! This will be promising and hugely interesting (accountability can do wonders, but we'll see). I'll be waiting for you on the other side with my stuffed animals, cIaO fReNdOs!

— Nandini (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ 💌

letting my taglist folks know (which you can join here!)

@doctorearlgray, @mintschlar, @procrastilate, @scienceandsarcasticdroids, @sxudying, @hannistudies, @vocative, @studign-stars, @ash-trological, @sweet-bean-study-queen, @chaoticstormthings, @lunetudes, @beingstudent, @beautiful-magicalbrain, @akydemics, @literery, @redvelvetstu-dies, @vivinotes, @jynsdesk, @moonshinestudies, @studying-in-chaos, @thelazyunistudent, @einstetic, @ram-the-blonde-bitch, @a-students-lifebuoy, @studahliless, @inspostudying, @the-diary-of-a-failure, @would-iwasshookethspeared, @coffeeandpies, @artsytourism, @gloomstudy, @scrolls-of-jupiter, @studytrivia, @ristudy, @isatriestostudy, @historicalbeez, @luvjoys, @indiaisstudying, @studyingunderwater, @dianeemay, @kemi-k, @londonotes, @froststudies, @pennyfynotes, @studiently, @midnightstudying, @unicorndoesstudies, @studyingundersun, @wingedprunepsychiclawyer, @tonystarkstudies, @delphinaaugery, @morganastudy, @studiies-psych, @sumastudies, @emrys-studies, @parleonstudies, @acataemic, @studylustre, @adelinestudiess, @sorcierstudies, @coffeeinfusedstudying, @pizza-and-studying, @the-third-me, @scrunchiestudies, @jemsjournals, @jas-study, @jabuticabablr, @khelmatic, @avastvdies + you, if you’re reading this!

[sergeanttpoliteness]

➹dizzy with a dame➹(spider-noir x fem!reader)

Requested by anon➝  May I please ask for a scenario of Noir x fem!reader with a sweet love confession and a kiss??

He’ll be damned if he lets you go before he comes clean. 

word count: 2.1k

a/n: oh my GOD, i went through such a trauma while writing this asjsjjs, tumblr basically was a little shit ! and i lost ! what i had written ! but,,, you see,,, my mind... she’s so powerful (not really) - i could still remember everything so no bad luck stopped me and i finished this after screaming and being in shock for about an hour. anyway, in spite of all that, i actually love this (’: i love spider noir and i loved writing for him, so thanks @ the incredibly sweet nonnie who requested this! i hope you, along with anyone else who reads it, likes it. be prepared for longer stuff cause there’s a lot coming. have a lovely week, y’all (:

taglist: @marvelousmorales  (hola)

It used to peeve him, your stubbornness. Your overbearing adamancy which creased the skin in between your eyebrows, set your jaw tight, embraced your body beautifully, like a gown ingrained with blinding and vigorous tenacity— it drove him crazy. Yet in that instant, albeit it was invariable, the same persistence as you leaned against the street lamp with your shoes in your hand, your bag neglected by your feet, you still roused him, but it was different. It was different while you glanced at him, your tainted lips curling upwards with astonishment, elation brighter than the bulb above you. 

“Detective… don’t know why I’m so surprised you found me.” You called out, voice echoing like a phonograph in the solitary streets.

When Peter didn’t shorten the distance between you two, you pushed yourself off of the lamppost, your bare feet padding softly against the concrete. “Wasn’t a letter perhaps too overdramatic?” He questioned, expression unvarying, unfazed as you paused inches away from him. “You could have just told me.”

You breathed out through your nose, directing a tight-lipped smile at the freshly-polished car parked beside you. “So you could tell me to change my mind?”

“You and I both know you wouldn’t have listened anyway.”

Your grin expanded, this time authentic, he knew, by the blush that trickled your cheeks as if you’d recently powdered them with contentment. “I see you learned something about me after these past four months of working together.”

His countenance then shifted, eased, the eyes behind his circular frames narrowing. “I’ve learned many more things about you, like how incautious you can be when it comes to your safety. What if they’d found you out here?”

“C’mon, detective, did you just come here to argue with me?” You snarled, crossing your arms across your chest. “If that’s the case, then maybe you should’ve stayed in your office.”

“No, I...” He breathed out. You quirked a brow, arms falling by your sides as he swallowed, stare drifting over your shoulder, at the bag that marked the finale of the story; the closing of the book, a farewell to the bickering and clashing of your minds, but the hush in between, too— the stillness of the water after the ripples, the unnecessary hours spent together, that shared glint in both of your eyes that persisted even at the end. It meant saying goodbye to everything, to... you.

It’s not the ending he wanted.

“I came to say goodbye.” 

You stepped nearer, your chests on the brink of touching, holding your head high, sight stern, testing.

“Then goodbye, sir.”

All he did was nod. Turn his body, long strides pushing him away from you. You watched his back retire, desert you as your plastic nonchalance dropped. Peter retained the same dejection as you while he strayed further afar, the same frown, same thunder wrecking, striking his body. The voice in his head urged him through the crackling to go back, to not let you go so easily. He continued, but so did his inner self— go back, you fool.

He listened.

Peter whirled around and retraced his steps back to you, like the inevitable pull of a magnet luring a metal, trapping it. It’s exactly what you did; it was your inescapable force as he walked up to you, clearing his throat. “I lied.” He confessed, shaking his head mildly. “Not fully, but… I did.”

“Figure it out, detective: did you lie or not?” You queried quietly, caught off-guard that he’d really turned back. Your heart wept with anguish, though, for that wrong choice you thought he wouldn’t make set the finger on the trigger of the gun that aimed right at him.

He looked at you, at your subtle heartbroken expression. It perplexed him further, tended that reluctance to fight against your wishes you’d phrased clearly. It’s a grudge he’d withstand, though; a last quarrel he’d carry through although it was a thing from the past and something he recognized you didn’t need, for there’s only so much woe one can sustain before your knees give out and you tumble to the ground. He’d do it purely for your safety, to unload the mass weighing you down even if you didn’t want to let go of it. Even if you, somehow already cognizant of what he was about to say, begged him silently and wordlessly to back away. But damn right he wouldn’t.

“I’m not giving up on the case.” He stated, determined. “I’m gonna find your father.” 

You glared at him as a warning. “No, you’re not.” You countered as if it were the final decision. However, his features didn’t harden and no irritation furrowed his brows. The softness he withheld boosted that ache in you, because he’s making this much harder than you wanted it to be.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

You groaned in exasperation, one you couldn’t discern from anger or sorrow as you threaded your fingers through your hair, loosening the curls. “You weren’t supposed to ignore me when I told you it was over or when I said goodbye. You were supposed to leave.” You hissed, lip trembling. 

Peter blinked, confused. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“That’s exactly why I can’t walk away, Y/N.” He said, his brows raised. You scoffed, but instead of a scowl, you wore a frown while you balanced on one foot to put on a shoe, disagreeing with your head.

“Yes, you can!” You insisted, followed by a swear under your breath when your heel wouldn’t slip into your footwear. “You have to, or else you’ll... God, stupid shoe!” You tore it off and slowly sank to the ground, uncaring about your skirt or the filth. In all your tousled glory— previously refined ringlets now undone, one foot shoeless, sat on the ground like a worn down child— you glanced up at Peter, sighing. “Listen, it’s either the both of us or just me. So, please. You did a great job, sir, but it’s time you back off and let me handle it from here.” 

He crouched down and took the discarded shoe, gently grabbing your ankle and helping you fit your foot into it. You eyed him, confusion crossing your face when you saw the corner of his lips twitch. “What’s funny?” You asked, your own smile daring to surface after his fully made an appearance.

“This is an awful remake of Cinderella,” He chuckled. It was small, quiet, but it was there, nevertheless: a laugh, escaping your throat. It encouraged him to remain resolute with his decision, regardless of the difficulty of witnessing your wretchedness. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” He reassured, tying your shoelaces. You wished to believe, as you’d seen what he’s capable of; but what if his admirable expertise failed him? What if he faltered, despite if it was merely a moment, and it was enough to beat him down? You couldn’t risk it. And if he wouldn’t budge, neither would you. 

He set your foot now clad with high heels down, waiting, expecting you’d give in, stop worrying for once. That’s not what he was gonna get, though. “My father killed his own son, detective.” You reminded him, blocking the grief that threatened to rise from where you’d buried it. He faintly winced, owning a sense of responsibility for your loss. “He won’t even hesitate to do the same to you if he finds out you were helping us bring him and his men down.” 

“A little help won’t hurt you. It’ll only get us closer to giving him what he deserves.” He urged, softly hitting the ground. 

“It’s no longer us, now it’s just me.” You pointed at your chest, brows snapped together. He looked heavenward, taking a deep breath before his harsh yet terrified stare landed on you.

“You’ll get hurt.”

“He won’t find me once I leave!” 

That damn pertinacity. The damn crease in between your eyebrows, your damn tightened jaw. You, goddammit. He came close to gripping his chest, perhaps so his heart would stop with its tumultuous rhythm; so it would cease to pump that fervor through his veins and spreading it all throughout his system. Peter stood back up, his hands in the pockets of his coat as he looked over you, the decision settled in his head. “Y/N, I’m not backing away.” He repeated one last time. You copied his actions and rose from the ground, chest heaving up and down, your legs finally buckling from the fear as heavy as concrete that collapsed on you.

“Why? God darn it, detective, are you just trying to make me mad?!” You cried out, waving your hand, shocking him with your outburst. He’d never seen you like this. “You say I’m incautious, while you’re here, waltzing into danger like a careless idiot! Why would you do that?!” 

He wriggled his jittery fingers, gulping. “It’s a lot more complicated than that.” He muttered. You exhaled, irked at his vague response, but attempted to compose yourself, folding your arms across your chest. 

“It’s only complicated if you choose to make it that way.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, a strand falling over his forehead. There were so many factors making it that way. So many he couldn’t control. He couldn’t simply flick his finger and vanish them, wipe them out of existence. However, then there was you. You, who, without a warning, weaved yourself into his life. You, with all those troubles in tow, risk as your loyal friend chained to you, following you to the end of the world. You, with that divine feeling you placed in his hands, which sprouted with your company, your voice, your warmth. He couldn’t control anything else nor you. But did have control over his own will, and even if it’s just him fighting, he’d make everything less complicated. 

You were worth it.

“I...care about you.” He admitted. Various emotions crossed your face all at once, and his eyes cowered away or else he’d be unable to speak. He had to, though. Now or never. “You... I... uh...” Oh, man, alright, maybe he can’t.

No. He has to. He nudged his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose, expanding his ribcage with courageous air. “I really do care about you. Way too much, even if it’s just been four months. I’m never gonna figure out how you did that. It’s kind of scary. All of this is scary, because I know that if I don’t do anything, or that if I’m too late, I’ll lose you. And, God, that’s terrifying. I just... I can’t let it happen, I can’t.” He finished with a whisper.

You took a step closer to him and reached up to brush the fallen strand of hair away from his sullen face. Peter weakened like a cat being pet when your hand moved to his cheek, and you truly had him under a spell as you traced your fingertip down to his jaw, stopping under his chin. “You’re dangerous, Peter Parker. You’re making me want to stay.” You laughed sadly, biting your lip.

Peter grabbed your wrist, although not to pull your hand away from his face. He wouldn’t be able to bring himself to do it; even if he were unhinged and wanted to. It was just the only time he’d ever be so close to you. “You can’t.” He said, heavy-hearted. Your mouth tugged upwards in a sly smile.

“I can’t.” You agreed, grasping his chin. “But I can do something.”

Your lips. It was just a short moment— a flutter of his eyes, an interrupted, stolen breath. Nothing more than a peck. But your tenderness was timeless, an immortal sensation that’d remain after you pulled away, flared pupils waiting for something else. And God, he’d give you that something else.

He truthfully had a way with his mouth, you realized. If only you’d realized sooner— hadn’t wasted minutes, hours, days, because the ticking of time blared in both of your ears as his delicacy put yours to shame; it beat loudly as his hand cradled your neck and your arms drooped, your body debilitating, your lips transcribing a love letter, inking the last few words on the page. The alarm rang— the car horn separated your kiss, finished the final sentence. You opened the door and threw your bag inside, but before you got in, you glanced back at Peter who framed your image in his head. “Be careful, alright, Peter?” You pleaded, eyes soft. “I care about you, too, y’know.”

He tilted his head with a crooked smile. “So you’re not gonna tell me to back away?” He teased, already missing your oppositions. You grinned, chuckling, giving him a once-over.

“You and I both know you wouldn’t have listened anyway.”

You closed the door— the period at the end of the paragraph. Not the ending of the book, though. He observed the vehicle drive away, assured that, in the future, a new paragraph awaited to be written. He’d make sure of it.

[the-gay-in-the-way]

Librarians.

Just...librarians.

I just saw a post on tumblr again and it was that one post about the guy who had a lot of library fines in different cities and was waiting for some kind of librarian bounty hunter to come and collect but then someone replies saying that they’re amused by the post as a person but not as a librarian and he’s suddenly terrified by the implication that librarians aren’t actually people.

And it made me think of something.

What if there was this one library in this one town in Florida.

And it is, like, a MASSIVE library filled with all kinds of books and media of all genres and languages.

And there are five librarians who work there.

One is a very smart and stoic man who always wears a tie and seems to know the answer to any question you ask him about pretty much any subject.

Another is an incredibly cheerful and kind man who’s always smiling and seems to somehow know whenever someone in the library needs help with something.

Another is a very dramatic and charismatic man who never speaks at the volume appropriate for libraries and whom can give anyone a perfect recommendation for any genre of book, movie, or music.

Another is an incredibly mischievous and sarcastic man who keeps his entire body covered at all times and has a tendency to mislead people through the library before taking them to where they need to go.

And another is a very quiet and intimidating man who can usually be found walking along the tops of shelves or wandering within the shadows and whom only really appears to people when they are incredibly lost or in serious need of help.

The five have seemingly always been there.

Many assume that there is a strange sort of family line that keeps working at the library.

Some believe that the five are simply immortal and have been working there forever.

But, regardless of the strange origins of the librarians, everyone within the town visits the library for all of their media related needs.

Meetings for clubs and organizations, and even the town council, are held within its spare rooms.

Events occur with frequency, with things like movie nights every Friday and small one to five man performances and book readings held every Saturday.

The smart man tutored anyone who asked, young or old, on any subject you could think of.

The cheerful man was always willing to offer emotional support when anyone was in need of it.

The dramatic man always encouraged people to follow their dreams and would offer his own form of tutoring should anyone wish to be a performer of any discription.

The mischievous man played harmless pranks, on his own or with anyone who wished to join in, that made life in town a little more exciting and fun.

And the quiet man, despite his intimidating appearance, was always there to help when a terrible event happened in town, sometimes going so far as to put himself at risk to do so.

And, one day, a young man moves into the town and is told these things about the library.

“The library is a wonderful place.”

“The librarians are a little strange but they’re all very kind.”

“You should go there when you get the chance.”

“But never go on Wednesday’s.”

The man hears these things and is confused.

“Why not?”

And the townspeople explain, with a seriousness that evokes no argument.

“Because the doors never lock, but nobody is allowed in the library on Wednesday’s.”

“The librarians are never around on Wednesdays.”

“And the library is always dark.”

“We don’t know why and we’ve never gotten an answer when we asked.”

“We just know we shouldn’t go in on Wednesdays.”

“Or else we’ll regret it.”

And that is the beginning of the story of Thomas Sanders and how he came to meet the five strange librarians of the mysterious Kendrith town library.

Or, basically, this is what happens when I read something funny at midnight when I should be sleeping.

Y’know,(weird little tangent here. Feel free to ignore this.)I lived most of my life in a part of town we called “the boonies”.

Basically, we lived in a heavily forested little neighborhood a couple blocks away from a marsh, a cemetery, and an old school bus depot.

It was a nice enough place, when you ignored all the weird drug addicts and drunk alcoholics hanging out in their garages.

And there was a specific little area of that neighborhood that used to really spark my imagination.

It was this weird alley way kind of place between the fence that guarded the “rich” neighborhood and the overgrown foliage that hid our neighborhood away from them.

It was just this open strip of green grass at the end of a long road.

And, when you got to the end of that open strip of grass, you’d find a tiny creek of sorts with mostly stagnant water and a similarly tiny wooden bridge that went across it.

Once you went over the bridge, which was small and unstable so you had to be careful or else you’d fall into the water and get stuck in the mud(trust me. I learned this from experience.), there was this trodden path through the undergrowth that led into a strange outcropping of bamboo.

The trodden path ended at a clearing within the bamboo.

Once you were inside, you couldn’t see anything outside.

The bamboo was so dense it created a pretty solid wall that was impossible to get through.

Within the clearing was a variety of odds and ends.

Boxes full of neatly organized clothes, some interesting little knick knacks littered the ground and sat upon empty boxes that sheltered more delicate things like a battery operated radio and some papers held still beneath rocks and other knick knacks, and some assorted crates that surrounded a tiny fire pit.

I eventually found out that our resident homeless man, who’s name escapes me at this moment, lived there.

He was an incredibly nice and hardworking man.

He actually used to go to the Hardee’s at the edge of our neighborhood and clean up the parking lot in exchange for food.

Sometimes people would run into him and say hello.

He accepted charity when it was offered but never asked for anything.

He always seemed pretty content with his life and nobody really knew why but also never really bothered questioning it.

He was just always there.

A part of the neighborhood.

And everyone was okay with that.

Just like how we were okay with the weird animals that appeared out of the marsh.

And the mysterious sarcophagus somebody accidentally dug up before reburying.  

And the strange glowing things that suddenly appeared sometimes in the afternoon, despite us not having anything like lightning bugs in our part of Florida.

And those times when people would kind of just disappear for a day or two before coming back with no knowledge of leaving in the first place and a weird injury of some kind that they didn’t actually know the origin of.

Actually writing this all out is reminding me why I don’t talk about my neighborhood a lot.

But, oh well, too late now.

Anyways, we liked our resident homeless guy.

But, unfortunately, he died after getting hit by a car one night and now there’s a little cross next to the road in front of the Hardee’s where it happened.

Everyone mourned him, including myself, and now that little clearing is empty.

But the bridge is still there. 

Broken and falling apart from age, but still there.

The trodden path is messier but still noticeable.

It’s still just as beautiful and enchanting as I found it to be when I first discovered it years ago.

The area past all of it, that leads right to the marsh itself, is still just as crowded in foliage and little strange landmarks.

Once I found a tiny house made out of plants.

Another time there was a box with a padlock on it.

And, at one point, I even found an old book lying next to a bag and a makeshift staff(It was literally a really big stick with some twine keeping a cool looking crystal attached to one end.).

My neighborhood was weird and most people didn’t believe me when I tried to talk about it.

So I stopped talking about it.

Or, at least, I stopped trying to convince people that I was talking about my neighborhood in the first place.

I wrote a lot of stories about it instead.

It still inspires me today.

A lot of my stories, the fantasy ones that nobody reads, take place in the sort of fantastical world that was my literal backyard.

This is one of them.

Although it’s not exactly the same, it has similarities in my head.

I created the town of Kendrith when I was in elementary school.

In my mind, it was the world hidden within that back alley.

It was the place you ended up at when you ventured into the bamboo.

And this library idea reminds me a lot of that.

An impossible library with five seemingly immortal librarians that everyone knows and simply accepts as part of the town.

A library shrouded in mystery.

Beautiful and comforting and safe, but also strange and intimidating and dangerous.

I always loved thinking of things like this.

It’s comfortable to me.

All of the legends and fairy tales.

All of the fantastical things that totally couldn’t be real but somehow still exist.

*sighs*

Sorry.

I kind of just needed to talk about that and get it out of my system.

This librarian idea really reminded me of that.

And the idea itself kind of just came out of nowhere when I read that post.

And now this is a thing and I kind of want to write about it.

Which is unfortunate, since I have a lot of stuff I should probably be writing instead of this.

Unless people want to read about this.

If anyone does, feel free to tell me.

I’d be more than happy to dig through all of my old notebooks with all my old notes on Kendrith and the magic system I created back then.

Heck, maybe I can revive that old dragon language I made up in high school.

That could be fun.

I was already thinking of using it for the fantasy AU anyways.

So, yeah.

Anyways.

Thanks for reading all of this mess of thought, if you did.

I hope you got some enjoyment from my weird rambles and ideas.

Here’s the gen taglist.

@a-snoway-afternoon @ashrain5 @virgilscat @gumdrop2113@chelama @dragonsight9 @marse-422 @derpiest-unicorn @i-identify-as-a-mango @fearfilledvirgil@lunariadyva-multifandom-blog @blitzgamev

Tell me if I missed you or if you’d like to be added or anything.

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[helplesslyfictional]

Loki Fanfiction - Remember the Old Ways, Chapter 10 - “Light”

Author’s Note: Whew, this chapter was long (9477 words, friends)! It was so nice to write some more light-hearted stuff in this chapter. It didn’t feel like it was that long when I was writing it - right now everything’s clicking into place for the plot, and I’m so excited to write what’s coming up next!

Chapter Summary: Thor grapples with new revelations. Loki plans a trip to Vanaheim before deciding on a new task with his siblings. Pairings: None! These stories are focused on family relationships.

What characters, then?   Loki, Thor, Odin, Frigga, OCs [Sophia] [Forsetti], Heimdall

When? Pre-Thor 2011: From Asgard to Earth, will go through Thor 2011 Chapter Warnings: Mature themes, emotional trauma, anxiety

Taglist: @loki-the-fox; @i-am-loki-and-now-i-speak-up; @trickster-grrrl; @deviantredhead; @mylokabrennauniverse; @leanmeanand-green; @juliabohemian; @latent-thoughts; @lucianalight; @nox-th-lk-sf; @be-a-snake-stab-your-brother; @myart-reviews Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from tags and I’m more than happy to do so!

AO3 story link; Wattpad; Promo/Master Post (please share if you like the fic!)

tumblr: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

Thor closed his eyes, relaxing as the wind, ever familiar, ruffled his hair. He was in the last remaining private spot he’d found without Loki discovering it. Here he knew he could be alone. The drop from his perch was the tallest in Asgard with the exception of the zenith of the palace; this little ledge was sheltered by great golden wings rising on both sides. The warm sun of the sky-shroud banished the chill of winter, comforting Thor like a warm blanket.

In some ways he felt like a child now, in need of the familiar and the safe, like this spot. But, for him, things in the palace no longer felt stable. Though he’d understood Loki’s suspicions all along, Thor had dismissed them at some level as speculation. Loki was prone to flights of fantasy and conjecture, preferring to focus on ideas rather than reality.

With Heimdall’s confirmation, however, all the theories had become set in stone. His parents had been concealing the truth, potentially hiding more than what had been found by Loki. And why?

Why would they have done this to him? Hide not just a sister, but his own twin? What possible reason could be good enough? Loki’s vision suggested the invasion was linked to her disappearance, but it seemed to him it was no excuse. Asgard would fight to the end for him, why wouldn’t they for his sister in kind?

And his parents had not just hidden her, they had denigrated her by making her mortal. Stripped of identity, of status, of strength, and anything connecting her to Asgard. No wonder she was so frightened all the time, her fear pulsing its way through his heart. Anything that would give her the ability to defend herself was gone. In many ways, he was everything she wasn’t.

He ought to go to Midgard immediately and bring her here, back home. He might be able to persuade Heimdall to let him use the Bifrost, he’d seemed amenable thus far. His father had instituted a ban on going there, but why should it matter if he had done this to his family?

Wait - was the ban in place to keep them apart?

By the Norns! Thor leaned back against the wall behind him, clenching his fists. Everything. Everything tied to this. His life had been all illusion but no substance. Now that she was around him, he felt whole for the first time in his life, something he had been missing all this time. It was intoxicatingly wonderful, and to think, he could have had it all along. He could have felt complete this whole time.

A passing cloud blotted out the sun, the cold chill of winter creeping in once more through Thor’s armor. Though Loki had always been there, they’d never had a true connection, not like this. The emotions, the memories, the dreams - though the amount of sway she had was powerful against him, he felt, deep down, that being close to her was true and right. What had she said? Right, like the thrum of a bow? As though this was meant to be. That, as Loki had mentioned, the universe willed it.

If that was the case, then the designs of his parents mattered little in the scheme of things. Forces seemed to be drawing them together into one another’s orbits despite all obstacles.

Nonetheless, the idea that he could no longer trust his father disturbed Thor on a fundamental level. He’d always worked hard to be the best son and heir to his parents. To be an exceptional example. In many ways, he was doing well on that front; Father trusted him enough to be crowning him King. But this betrayal of trust made Thor doubt their faith in him. Was he bearing the burden of two children instead of one? Trying to fill a role far too large?

Would they have told him about Sophia after he had been made King, or would he have been kept in the dark had Loki not made this discovery?

Slowly it dawned on Thor that bringing Sophia back to Asgard would compromise the Crown. He needed to be seen as the trusted heir of a strong, long-standing King. Fitting into the image he’d worked hard to forge - that of a lauded prince. The people loved Odin. Bringing forward a threat to that idea would turn public opinion, and his father, against him. Was this woman worth that?

Thor began to feel slightly dizzy with the fear, anger, and sadness fighting within him. He wanted to punch something or cry like a child, but he felt paralyzed, unable to do anything but feel it churning within.

A warmth slowly spread through him, but it wasn’t from the sun. Opening his eyes, Thor saw Sophia sitting next to him. This wasn’t a good time, it just wasn’t.

“It is unwise to be in my presence right now,” Thor said deeply, trying to will her away.

Sophia looked at him, brushing a hair out of her face and leaning against a golden wing. He felt her deep sadness and confusion, but tried to push it out. He was already feeling far too much on his own, he didn’t need to deal with her emotions as well.

“Sophia, you need to go,” Thor reiterated forcefully, “I can’t deal with you right now.”

“When are you going to deal with me?” Sophia asked, crossing her legs.

“Later.”

“Well, I don’t want to deal with this later. We’re both hurting, and there’s no sense in hurting alone.”

Thor turned his head to glare at her. “Hurting alone is just fine. It’s a better way to deal with things than talking.”

“Deal with it how, exactly? It doesn’t work the problem through. If you’re at all like me, you’re making everything palatable enough to shove down your feelings and try to make them go away.”

That was it. “I don’t do that,” he snarled, “Stop reading into me. You don’t know me!”

Sophia shrank back a little, and Thor felt her fear in reaction. He didn’t mean to scare her, simply to make her stop. “You’re right,” she said more softly. “I don’t. Sometimes I just feel like I do. I’m sorry.”

Thor felt his heart go out to her. Damn it, he thought, I’m going to feel bad if she leaves now. “Don’t take things the wrong way. It’s just...a lot to think about.”

Sophia leaned over her legs, stretching her back a little. “This is certainly a good place to think. If I was here physically, I’d be pretty scared, but it’s a great view.”

Thor gave a little smile. “Well, don’t tell Loki. This is the only spot he hasn’t discovered me in.”

“Don’t worry,” Sophia said. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Thor looked at her carefully. He didn’t know why that made him feel just a little bit better. “Thank you.”

A brief moment passed before Sophia spoke again. “Trying to understand how this is possible is probably the hardest thing for me. I mean, I was so sure my mother was my mother, you know? And that I’m...human. It seemed like those were...unchangeable facts.”

Thor snorted. “Facts no longer exist,” he said in a derisive tone. “I thought I could trust my parents. That I was the elder of two sons. And yet those basic things - they’re no longer true.” Thor pulled up his legs and crossed them. “As to how it happened - I’m sure Loki will find the answer. Undoubtedly it’s magical. Mother is perhaps the most skilled sorceress Asgard has known.” That left a sour taste in his mouth. He should feel proud of that, but now it had been used against him.

Sophia leaned closer to him, looking concerned. “I felt that,” she said, her eyes searching his. “It’s okay to have mixed feelings about one’s parents. I certainly learned that the hard way.”

Thor frowned, struggling to hold back the tears that sprang forward. Damn, she shouldn’t have to see this. Hold yourself together. Kings don’t cry.“It shouldn’t be this way. I should be able to trust them, I have - all my life - I mean, they’re my parents. They’ve always been people I’ve looked up to. I just - “ He struggled to put things into words.

“I think,” she said slowly, “there’s always a point in life when children realize their parents were never perfect, that they weren’t all-powerful gods. I’m not saying you haven’t realized that before, but there’s a point when it really rings true. And you realize that your parents are full people with flaws and problems of their own.”

Thor shook his head. “I know that, I did know that, but - they were always better than their faults. They’re...the king and queen.” He gave a disbelieving smile. “The ones we’re supposed to emulate, to aspire to be. An example to the people, for the children to want to be and the generals to point to as leaders.”

“It sounds like you’re mixing their position with their roles as your parents. A family is still a family, no matter what positions they hold in society.”

Thor shook his head. “They can’t be...divorced from that role, though. My father is both my king - and my father. I have to hold a duty to him in both roles - as a son and his heir. When I was growing up, it was a fact ever-present in my life.” He looked down at his hands. “When we would misbehave, Father used to threaten to put Loki and I in prison. As though we were committing treason.” Glancing up, he scrutinized her. “I suppose it’s a mercy you never had to experience that.”

Sophia screwed up her face. “I don’t know, growing up with my parents wasn’t a walk in the park either.”

“Oh please, tell me how your life was worse,” Thor said teasingly, but realization dawned on him that his sister had grown up with the family that, likely, his parents had chosen. Whatever it was she’d experienced, it was their fault as well.

“My parents - well, I used to think they were great parents, even for years. It wasn’t until some...terrible things happened and I began talking about it that I realized something was wrong.”

“Was that the memory I saw?” Thor asked. “I do hope you don’t remember it, your feelings were...awful.”

“Sometimes that’s hard,” Sophia said, shifting uncomfortably. “There’s more than just that memory. But that’s not the point. The point is that I slowly began to realize that there were problems with my upbringing - problems that affected me throughout my life.

“I grew up schooled at home, unlike most people in my country. That meant that my parents had complete control over me - from how I spent my time to what I could read. It also meant I spent all of my time in the presence of my family - mother, father, and a younger brother.”

Thor’s eyes widened. She had a sibling with this other family? He quickly tried to imagine what it would be like to find out Loki wasn’t his brother. It was incomprehensible. Nonetheless, her experience sounded no different than his and Loki’s - they too spent their time together.

She continued. “Any small thing could make an impact in the family - the smallest thing would make my parents angry. It felt like anything I did would make them upset at me. So I worked to please them, to make everyone love me. It worked for a while, but…” Her voice drifted off, as did her eyes. Then she blinked and focused. “When it stopped working, I didn’t know a different way to try and get my parents to love me.” She pursed her lips. “It took me a long time to realize that I shouldn’t be the one making them love me, they should do it on their own.” Locking eyes with him, she gave a weak smile. “And they haven’t. So I just have to accept that they don’t, or pine after something I’ll never receive.”

“But do you still love them? That’s the question.”

“Of course I do. I love them because they are...were...my family. But you can hate and love them at the same time, it’s just not easy.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Thor said, reaching out and rubbing her back. “Don’t worry, once you come here, you will be loved. My parents are…” His voice trailed off as his mind caught up to his instinctive desire to comfort her. His parents couldn’t have loved her if they did this to her. But they’d loved him, hadn’t they? “I suppose - Loki and I, we will love you.” He gave her a half-hearted smile.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Sophia said softly. “But even though I want to be loved, it’s not - it’s not something I worry about. I worry more about being alone.”

Thor thought for a moment, squinting as he scanned the skyline. “I suppose I don’t worry about love myself. But being alone? Yes.” He paused. “Aside from what I’ve already mentioned about loneliness throughout my life, my position isolates me from others. It always has. Everyone always wants something, to influence me, or to catch me doing something wrong. That, or they expect me to punish or reward them. It’s exhausting to try and catch it before it affects me. And it’s never truly conducive to friendship.”

She frowned. “What about your friends, Lady Sif and the others?”

“Even with them there is a boundary that cannot be crossed.”

“Is it not within your ability to change that?”

Thor sighed. “I tried, honestly. But between the necessity of giving orders and my duties, the line still remains.”

Sophia smiled, saying jokingly, “Have you tried just getting out and meeting new people?”

“I can’t just do that.” Thor didn’t want to join in the jest. “I’m recognizable everywhere I go. Loki has the ability to disguise himself and blend into a crowd, but I’ve always been noticed. I’ve always been jealous of him for that - the freedom to go where he wills. To disappear.”

“I understand,” Sophia said, cocking her head as she scrutinized his face, “When I was a diplomat abroad, I was in a country where it was easy to tell where I came from. Even when I was walking around the neighborhood, people would, on sight, try to get something from me. It was hard because I was representing my country, so I had to be polite, even when I just wanted them to leave me alone. In other respects, I always wanted to help them and...couldn’t.”

Impressive, she did understand. He thought he’d been alone in that feeling. “I do as well. I do want to help everyone. To take away their cares, or to be the person they want me to be. I love seeing the joy in their eyes; I love when they love me. But sometimes I think it makes it hard to be...just myself.”

Sophia stared at him for a few moments, then nodded. “That’s how I felt, especially when I was with my parents. Like I didn’t exist - I always felt like a mirror.”

“Yes!” Thor’s head snapped. Her analogy was perfect. “Yes, that’s exactly it. Like a mirror. Always what other people want to see, never yourself.”

Sophia suddenly reached over, trying, and failing, to reach around him for a hug. Thor softened, touched by the gesture. “I was worried we didn’t have much in common,” she said quietly. “That the universe was throwing us together and we were just two random people.”

“We’re not two random people,” Thor said, bringing her closer. “We’re not just blood, either, we’re two halves of a whole. We were meant to find one another - I know it in my bones. I just grieve that we were separated at all.”

Thor couldn’t see Sophia’s face, but he felt her anxiety. “I know that I want this,” Sophia said. “But I worry I should feel more than that, that I should be sad for a life I never had. Instead I just look to it as a developing future of possibilities. Is that - is that wrong?”

Thor frowned. It was a little odd she thought that way. “How old are you, Sophia? It seems like you are...young.”

“That’s what’s so strange to me. I’m thirty years old.” Thor’s blood froze. Thirty years. How was such a thing possible? “Why, how old are you?” she asked. “For us to have myths it must be...a bit.”

Thor mumbled out “1046” without thinking, his mind still on the age gap. Sophia sucked in her breath. “Jesus. I suppose that makes sense, but...wow.”

“But we were born at the same time,” Thor said, turning things over in his mind, his breath coming more quickly. He felt the sky answer his emotion, the clouds beginning to churn. He didn’t try to stop it.

Sophia looked up at him with a smile. “That is what being a twin means,” she said teasingly.

Thor extracted himself from the embrace, standing up, anger flaring within him. “One thousand years,” he forced out. “A millenia without you! A thousand years together, stolen!” A storm began to coalesce, the thunder cracking as much as his heart.

“Do you not see, Sophia? You will outlive me. A thousand years was stolen from me, and a thousand from you, all told. Though worse for you, I think, because if I do die of old age, then you’ll have known me and have me no longer.” He laughed wryly as the wind began to whip past them. “To think, they - “ the tears threatened to come forward again. “They committed the worst crime.”

Sophia slowly stood, back against the golden wing flanking their ledge. She was scared, though of what he was unsure. “They must’ve had a reason,” she raised her voice over the wind, “It’s not the worst thing. They didn’t do it just to hurt us!”

“What?” Thor said, shaking his head and walking toward her. “How can you defend this? Your own parents hurt you, would you defend them as well?”

“Yes, because they did the best they could! That’s all we can ask for.”

He wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. That there was some sort of grandiose plan. But he couldn’t see it.

Sophia flinched at a flash of lightning, but she stood tall. It was so strange to feel her emotions on top of his, to feel instead of guess that she was both concerned and filled with sadness.  “Thor,” she said, “Thor, we can’t focus on the past. It’s gone, it can’t be changed.”

Thor continued to fight back tears. As she wrapped her arms around him once more, they came forth, and Thor couldn’t help but sob like a child, all the emotions flooding out. The sky answered, rain pouring down and helping mask his tears.

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

After Sophia insisted on finding Thor, Loki decided to chase down information lurking on Vanaheim. His - sister, now, he should call her - ignored his warnings about Thor’s temper to go comfort him. Likely a futile endeavor; any moment he expected her back in tears.

Vanaheim promised to hold further information. Speaking with another practicing Seer might help to shed light on seidr, a topic Loki still desperately wished to know more about. It seemed odd to him that such a magic would have been hidden.

Heimdall’s possession of the Sight was also interesting to Loki, particularly since it was associated with women. He wondered, briefly, if Heimdall kept to himself because of the outcast nature of men who had the Sight. He’d never heard any whispers to indicate that, but, by keeping to himself, Heimdall might have quelled such rumors.

Forsetti’s interest in the Vidfavne situation made Loki think he’d be a good resource, one that could also be cultivated in his favor, per Sophia’s suggestion. If Forsetti was correct and there was a problem with basic resources in the region, then it needed to be dealt with accordingly. If that coincided with a visit to the Seers, then all ends could be tied up neatly and he might come out looking competent in his father’s eyes. All in all, not a bad result.

Tendrils of feelings kept creeping into Loki’s mind, both his and Sophia’s. The confirmations by Heimdall were both exhilarating and devastating. He’d suspected all along there were things being hidden by his parents, but to hear them so clearly confirmed was still difficult. Harder for Thor, to be certain, but it didn’t change the fact he could clearly no longer take for granted what he’d been told his entire life. Patterns were beginning to emerge as to why his parents hid such things, but he hadn’t quite put together the pieces.

Visiting Forsetti’s office took little to no time at all; the noble was more than amenable to the idea of accompanying Loki to Vanaheim. Though it had been some time since Forsetti had served on Vanaheim, he knew the right contacts to pull strings and facilitate the trip. They’d depart on the morrow - there was no sense wasting time.

By the time Loki got back outside, it was raining. Thunder boomed overhead, and Loki looked up, squinting as raindrops started to get in his eyes. Yes, this was definitely his brother’s doing. Quickly, he self-examined his emotions to find Sophia’s current state. She was sad, but not overwhelmingly so, and concerned. Hardly the level of upset he’d expect if his brother’s temper flared.

Loki pursed his lips as he walked, wondering what they were talking about. It was strange to know she was here on Asgard without being in his presence. How were they going to bring her to Asgard? With the depth of secrecy given to Sophia’s existence, his parents would certainly be unhappy if she were to return.

Yet, she belonged here on Asgard, that much was for certain. And the prophecy seemed to indicate that their duties as Children of Time necessitated their reunion. If that were to happen, whatever binding was placed on her needed to be removed.

Loki considered this as he re-entered the palace, ignoring the servants wiping the rain off their gilded floors. He could probably remove the binding, depending on the complexity. He wondered why had Sophia been bound in the first place, particularly as a child. It seemed like hiding her existence was too simple a reason, especially given his vision. In his vision, It seemed as though it was critically important for Frigga to finish the binding.

Perhaps Forsetti might have some answers. The cover-up around the Elven invasion was comprehensive, so Loki had no doubt that speaking about what happened would be a treasonous crime. He hadn’t asked about this during his visit for that precise reason. Forsetti needed some grooming before he could be asked to do something so grave.

As Loki entered his room, he halted as he saw someone waiting, then realized it was Sophia. Her eyes were red and her body language was meek, which was unusual for her. Glancing around the room, he didn’t see Thor. “Is everything alright, Sophia?”

She nodded. “Just a little emotional, that’s all. Thor’s on his way. He said something about the binding spell?”

Ah. Thor was probably thinking along the same lines as he was. “I was hoping to have a better look at it myself. I’m guessing things went alright with my - our - brother.” He headed to the largest section of his room, where he practiced spellwork, indicating for Sophia to follow.

She frowned. “Yes. It’s going to take a lot of getting used to the idea that we’re family,” she said, coming up alongside him. “Thor’s quite upset, but he’s calmed down. I think the initial surprise has worn off, and he’s...processing.”

“Not unlike when I found out about my demise, I’m sure,” Loki said wryly, then regretted it. He didn’t mean to make this about him.

Sophia shot him an annoyed glance. “It’s a little different, I think. Not to diminish how significant that was, but this changes his worldview.”

Loki gave a tight smile. “Mm. He hasn’t had something like that.” Leave it to Thor to take the center stage. “Can you stand here?”

Sophia stood in the center of the square space, looking at him expectantly. Loki carefully cast a familiar spell, generating a blue dodecahedron of light and moving it to shine on Sophia.

He didn’t quite know why he was jealous of Thor over this. Perhaps it was that, instead of being their sibling, Sophia was Thor’s twin. It somehow tied her more closely with Thor and, most likely, was the source of their natural mental connection. It was something he didn’t have, now. Even though he had a connection with Sophia, it still stung that it needed to be purposeful rather than natural.

“Nothing up front. I’m going to move it around to your back,” Loki said, not wanting Sophia to be surprised. With that, he slowly brought the orb around, examining her side while moving.

He shouldn’t be thinking this way. They were family now, becoming more whole. Why drag this down with such hurtful feelings? He shook his head - then, as the orb lit Sophia’s back, he saw something.

There was the rune Elhaz, sitting on the back of Sophia’s neck, glimmering silver under the spell’s light. The spell, fortunately, shone through clothing and skin, otherwise he might have missed it under her hair. Loki drew closer to get a better look.

Thor entered without knocking, closing the door behind him. His eyes widened when he noticed them. “Oh! Good, you went ahead and started.”

“Thank you for using the door, at least,” Loki said wryly. “Yes, I’ve found it, I think. It’s a bind-rune. Not unlike a rune of protection, but this is…” He squinted at it. “Complicated.”

“If Mother was involved, I’ve no doubt it is,” Thor said, dragging a chair into the space and plopping down. “Can you undo it?”

“Probably.” Loki dissipated the light, taking Sophia’s shoulders and moving her into the perfect center of the space, delineated by dark blue tiles. “It’s on the back of your neck, Sophia, so I’m going to access it now. You can move, but please do so slowly, and let me know before doing it. I’m going to be working with its energy back here, so I need to be able to anticipate any changes.”

“I understood about half of that,” Sophia said, “but I’ll do what I can.”

Loki brushed aside Sophia’s hair. Now that he knew to look for it, he could feel the magical field of the rune. With a tiny pulse of energy from his fingers, the rune shimmered forth on her skin, shining brightly. He stood back, casting a magical circle of green light, then tried a few methods of accessing the rune before trying a more complicated one. It worked but, as he’d expected, this wasn’t going to be easy.

As soon as he was able to access it, energy blossomed forth from the rune, spiralling forward before branching out into a network of tightly woven enchantments. Loki’s eyes widened as he stepped back in awe. Thor rose from his seat, slowly moving around the circle. “It’s...beautiful,” Loki said under his breath.

“By the Norns…” Thor said, his jaw dropping. “I haven’t seen anything like that before.”

“This isn’t just a spell,” Loki said, laughing in disbelief. “This - this is art . Frigga, you...you are...magnificent. I haven’t seen this many spells in a binding - ever. I mean, theoretically you could put this many in, but - “ his voice trailed off as he worked to comprehend what he was seeing.

“I’m trying not to freak out over here,” said Sophia. “I’m assuming you’re not talking about my beautiful back end.”

“No,” Thor said, smiling, “but that in no way denigrates your back end.”

“Thank you,” Sophia said with a smile and a sniff.

Loki gently manipulated the energies to visualize the web in a more accessible interface. “There are a wide variety of enchantments here.” He scrolled through some, carefully reading the runic script. “Some are holding you to human developmental markers...ah, here’s some to hold your genetic code...oh.” He stopped on one, making sure he read it correctly. “Well, that confirms you’re Asgardian. This one severs your connection to Asgard’s energies.”

Thor moved closer, reading over Loki’s shoulder. “Unbelievable,” he said. “That would’ve confirmed she was our sister, right there. We should’ve done this before going to Heimdall.”

“What does that mean?” Sophia asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Thor glanced up, then moved over to her line of sight. “Since the days of the first king of Asgard - King Buri - the fate of Asgard has been tied to the monarchy. As his descendents, and as heirs to the throne, we are given great gifts to protect our people.”

Sophia narrowed her eyes. “I don’t understand, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” both Loki and Thor said in unison.

Thor grinned at Loki. “This is going to be fun, isn’t it, brother.” Loki shook his head and smiled, continuing his work.

“What makes you both say that?”

Thor reached out, then stopped, realizing he shouldn’t cross the magical circle. “First, you don’t need to apologize for something as simple as not understanding. And secondly, you’re - you’re royalty. As Father says, apologies show weakness.”

“Not all apologies, mind you,” Loki said, giving him an annoyed glance, “just the unnecessary ones.”

“Ah,” Sophia said quietly, “that makes better sense.”

“To better explain the energy, erm…” Thor leaned back against the wall, thinking. “Well, I’m the god of thunder. You haven’t seen me use it, but I can call lightning, among other things - many other things. That storm earlier? That was me. I’m not using magic for something like that; I’m not casting spells. An average Asgardian doesn’t have such abilities, either.” He gestured around him. “All of it comes from Asgard.”

Sophia clasped her hands, showing annoyance at her constrained movement. “Your abilities are what makes you both gods, then?”

“Yes,” Loki answered, still focused on his work. “Asgard has given me strong magical abilities and a keen mind.”

Thor nodded. “We draw our power from Asgard, and in turn, we protect it. By severing that connection, this enchantment kept you from developing any ability in that regard.”

Sophia flashed him a confused smile. “That means…”

“What it means will depend on if I can get this off you,” Loki said, slightly annoyed. The number of enchantments here meant he was going to need to be slow and methodical about removing it. It was going to take more time than he’d thought. “Thor, there’s a number of enchantments here that are meant to deter various methods of detection. Primarily magical, but a few inhibitors as well.”

Thor crossed his arms. “That would cancel out tracking devices on her?”

“Yes. It’s a...diverse array of protections, far more in-depth than I would have done in Mother’s position.” Loki tapped a finger against his leg. “There’s almost as much devoted to that as there is to Sophia’s physical form.”

“Oh!” Sophia exclaimed. “That would explain why my stupid GPS never works on my phone.”

Thor laughed. “I have no idea what that means, but probably.” He turned to Loki. “It makes sense that if they were trying to hide Sophia away, they’d want to make sure she wasn’t found,” Thor said, his mouth quirking. Clearly he didn’t like what he was saying.

Loki nodded, finishing up his analysis. With a few gestures, he dispelled the display, its energies shrinking back to Sophia’s neck. The magical circle faded, as it was no longer needed. “There,” he said, “You can move for a bit, Sophia.”

She relaxed with a sigh, moving over to the sitting area and flopping into a chair. “Ugh. Why is it when you’re told you can’t do something, that’s when you want to do it?”

Thor smiled as he moved to sit. “I feel like that all the time. Particularly in ceremonies, I want to start doing anything but stand still.”

Loki walked into the sitting area slowly, taking his time to sit as he contemplated what to say. “Well, I can dispel the enchantment,” he said. “I’ll have to be slow and careful, but I can do it.”

Sophia frowned. “What happens if you make a mistake?”

Thor gave a nervous laugh, and Loki shifted uncomfortably. “If the enchantment is cut too quickly, it can cascade,” he said, knitting his fingers together. “The energy that would be released would be...significant. Akin to an explosion. It wouldn’t hurt us, since we’re Asgardian, but you…” He broke eye contact, his eyes drifting down to his fingers. “Well, it wouldn’t be an acceptable result.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, could I get killed? Why would that be built into something that’s meant to protect me?”

The two brothers looked at one another before Loki spoke. “The danger is inherent to the spell, so Mother clearly felt it was worth the risk. Anyone less skilled than I who attempted to remove the spell would risk destroying both themselves and you in the process. Most likely someone who’d be motivated to remove it probably wouldn’t be willing to do that.”

Thor rubbed his neck, glancing up at Loki. “It seems worth the risk.”

Loki glanced over at Sophia, who seemed a little shocked at Thor’s assumption. “Well, let’s look at the benefits,” he said, leaning back. “Sophia regains her Asgardian form and any hindrances inherent to the rune are removed. We can probably track her on Midgard as a result.”

Sophia held out her hands. “Wait, would I look different?”

Loki frowned. “Possibly, I’m unsure. You’re quite short for a daughter of Odin.” Thor snorted, smirking.

Sophia narrowed her eyes, giving Thor an aggravated look. “Something that changes so significantly would freak out my parents, probably. If they couldn’t recognize me, they’d see me as a stranger in their own house.”

“Is that a problem?” Thor asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I’d be homeless if they kick me out.”

Loki held out a hand. “It’s alright, Sophia, I can bind an illusion to you with your current appearance that will hold on Midgard.”

Sophia visibly relaxed. “That would take care of that problem. The only concern, then, is...failure.”

“I’d trust Loki if I were in the same situation. With my life,” Thor said with no hesitation.

Loki looked at his brother with renewed respect, touched. Thor didn’t usually speak about him that way. “I don’t like to boast about my skill, Sophia, but I’d put the likelihood of failure quite low. Even if something happens, I know of ways to stop it. I just wanted to make sure we considered the risks.”

Sophia looked back and forth between them, clearly considering the situation. A grin slowly crept across her face. “Let’s do it.”

“Yes!” Thor leapt to his feet. “I’ll get us some food!” With that, he vaulted over a sofa and breezed through the door.

Loki blinked, then laughed. “He wants you to eat before we start,” he said, “because it’s going to take a while.”

Thor came back, his arms laden with foodstuffs. Loki poured them some wine and they worked to devour it all. Loki noted Sophia didn’t eat much, probably because of the nervous edge he was sensing from her. It wasn’t long before they were back in the work space, with Thor arranging pillows on the floor for Sophia.

“It’d be best for you to lay down so that you don’t get stiff,” Loki said as he walked around the space, visualizing the layout he would use.

“Plus it’ll be more comfortable,” Thor said, patting a cushion. “There! All ready for you.”

Sophia lay down, giggling a little bit. She was a little flushed and tipsy from the wine, which, Loki reasoned, was just fine. Let her have a little fun after the stresses of today.

Loki motioned for Thor to move; he got up and got a goblet before taking a seat. Loki tensed his fingers as he began to cast a circle for disenchantment, lighting up the room with green energy. As quickly as he could, he accessed the rune and got to work.

Thor and Sophia chatted about a variety of subjects, but Loki didn’t listen at first, instead making sure he was focused on his work. However, it was nice to hear their conversation in the background. It made for a lovely change from his typically solitary evenings.

“You said you had a brother in your family. What’s he like?” Thor asked, leaning back and taking a sip of his wine.

Sophia sighed. “He’s handsome, polite, smart, hard-working, considerate. In a few ways, a lot like you. Any woman would be lucky to have him; his wife was the one who won the prize.”

“So, he’s married. I thought he was your younger brother, though.”

“Yes, well, he got married at 18, quite young. They love one another, though, so I can’t say it’s a bad thing.”

Thor coughed. “18? 18 years. Eighteen.”

Sophia laughed, putting her hand on her stomach. “I know it doesn’t seem like long to you, but that’s when we consider people coming of age.”

“Norns, it’s hard to understand mortals.”

“Hey, it’s the same in the other direction. You’re just as strange, I just don’t talk about it.”

“Does he live with you still?”

“No, no, he’s off living on his own. He’s got a career, good money, a wife, foster kids...pretty much everything my parents wanted for a child.”

“I thought you worked to be the perfect one,” Thor said.

“Yes, well. My parents were inclined to think he could do no wrong, so I had to work all the harder to please them.” Sophia’s voice turned a little bitter. “I can’t blame him, it’s not his fault, it just, uh - it’s hard.”

Loki glanced up from his work. He’d have to follow up on that, that was surprisingly close to how he felt.

Thor seemed to be a little confused, but didn’t say anything to that effect. “It seems like you don’t particularly care for your family.”

Sophia’s eyes widened. “Um…” She blinked. “I have mixed feelings, like I mentioned before. They’re the family I had, the one I grew up with. I’m bitter and angry, but - I still love them. I’m just...ready to leave, I suppose. They have their own lives now.”

Thor looked worried. “I hope you won’t feel that way about us.”

Sophia looked sideways at him, mixed emotions crossing her face. “I can’t make promises,” she said. “I give people the benefit of the doubt, against my better judgment. It’s a part of who I am. I don’t judge if I can help it.”

Loki paused his work. “Thor, in my experience, she is quite kind and loving, despite her feelings toward her family. She’s had her whole life with them to form her opinions, we’re relatively new to her in comparison.”

Thor set down his goblet, clasping his hands in front of him. “Just make sure not to apply those feelings to us.”

“I’ll try,” Sophia said with a small smile.

Loki’s work was laborious. Thor quickly ran out of ways to pass the time with Sophia, and as they eventually lapsed into silence, Thor, refusing to leave, fell asleep in his chair.

Sophia lay there quietly, lost in her own thoughts. The sky-shroud had disappeared to let in the light of the stars, and nothing but the crackle of the braziers and Loki’s footsteps made a sound. “Sophia,” Loki finally said, “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m too nervous to fall asleep.”

“Don’t worry, I’m nearly done. I just wanted to check since you’re so quiet.”

“Yep, just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Well, this is a lot. All of this. Like a wish or a story coming true. I mean, if I didn’t know better, I’d admit myself to the hospital for having delusions. Because this doesn’t happen to a lot of people, you know?”

“I suppose.” Loki hesitated. “I always considered myself lucky to be born into my position. Some of us are just born into the right circumstances.”

“But this...this is a lot of circumstances.”

Loki smiled. “Yes, certainly. But we’re unravelling what all of this means. It’s not a wish coming true, if such a thing were to exist, but, rather, it’s the righting of a wrong. Something that shouldn’t have happened.”

“I suppose it’s just my perspective. Thor said I was young when I mentioned it; I think he thought I was being naive.”

“Well, naivety is, in itself, a matter of perspective. In comparison to us you’re young, but that doesn’t change how you view this, and that’s what matters to you.”

“How do you view all of this, then?” Sophia asked, turning her head to follow him.

“I have a lot of feelings, but in the end, I think the truth is the most important. Strange for a god of tricks, I know, but that’s what I think.”

“It’s not so strange,” Sophia said quietly. “At the core of every trick there’s a truth, a pointed truth. I think people often hate tricksters and comedians because they’re the truth-tellers of society - hated as much as they are loved - because they point out the hypocrisies as well as exposing the truths that we want to hide. Sometimes you go too far, and then...well, some societies don’t take kindly to the idea of truth.”

Loki stopped, then forced himself to continue. “That’s a very astute perspective,” he said softly. “I think deep down we know that, but we’re just not confronted with the idea. It’s easier to laugh or deride rather than think about the point behind the joke.”

“Do you feel like that’s the case with your tricks?”

“Yes, certainly. For example, when we were younger, Thor had a favorite shirt of his that he wore all the time. It was too tight - it cut into his arms - but he liked to wear it because he thought it made him look stronger. So I snuck into his room and ruined the shirt. Not really a trick, but still, I had a reason. Naturally, he thought it was because I was jealous, but that wasn’t the point. The point was his vanity.”

“Did it work?” Sophia asked.

“No,” Thor said, “It didn’t. I’m not the fastest learner, though.”

Sophia laughed loudly as Loki blushed. “That’ll teach me to assume you’re out,” Loki said. “How much did you hear?”

“Oh,” Thor said teasingly, “Enough.”

“Oh, fine then. Be that way,” Loki said, grinning. “Nearly done, Sophia. I’ll let you know when to expect...change.”

He felt the flickers of her anxiety. Thor must have as well, since he leaned forward out of his reclined position, putting his elbows on his knees. “You’ll be fine, Sophia,” he said comfortingly.

“You don’t know,” Sophia said tightly, “You haven’t seen anything like this before, right?”

“Well, no,” Thor said, “But Loki knows what he’s doing. So I know you’ll be fine.”

She hesitated. “Just keep telling me that,” she said. “I have a feeling I’m going to forget it in a few seconds.”

“You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine.” Thor started repeating, with a grin.

“Oh my god, that’s not what I meant,” Sophia said, laughing, and chucked a pillow at him.

There, it was done. Prepped for removal. “All set, Sophia,” Loki said. “Expect it in a few moments.”

Sophia screwed her eyes closed and Loki twisted his fingers, activating the spell and extracting the rune. He congratulated himself on his success, watching as the silver magic traced over Sophia’s form, looping around her body until it was obscured by light. It subtly changed to golden light, warmth emanating like the sun, then died down.

Thor was the first to reach her, with Loki just behind. “She’s alright,” Thor said, eyes moving quickly to assess her. “Sophia?”

Her eyes were closed. She put her hand on her forehead and was simply breathing. “Different lungs,” she said. “Oh, this is weird. Oh god, I sound different, too. Different vocal cords.” She took a deep breath.

“Don’t panic,” Loki said, putting a hand on Thor’s back and leaning over to better see. “Just take your time and get used to it.”

She was certainly taller, significantly taller. Her hair was now a light blonde, a striking contrast to the brown she had sported. The structure of her face was different as well. She might not be happy about that, Loki thought.

“Are you in pain?” he asked, hoping that she wasn’t holding her head for that reason.

Thor glanced up at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion, then looked back to Sophia, who took her hand off her head. “No, no pain,” she said, finally opening her eyes. She pulled off her glasses, blinking. “Not going to miss those.”

Well, those eyes he knew. She had Thor’s eyes.

“Um, Sophia,” Loki said, recognizing an issue, “I’m going to shift your clothes to fit you.”

She nodded, and he reached down quickly, rearranging the matter of her clothes to better suit her. One of his favorite spells, perfect for the occasion.

Thor held out his hand to help her up, which she took and got up slowly, eyes widening as she reached full height and looked Thor straight in the eye. “Jesus fucking Christ!” she exclaimed, putting her hand over her mouth. “Fuck, am I that tall?”

Thor laughed, bringing her into a hug. “Of course you are! Loki was right, you were a little short.” Sophia looked at Loki over Thor’s shoulder, eyes still round as she was taking in everything. Loki gave her a grin, gleefully happy at his work.

She pulled back, putting her hands on Thor’s shoulders, looking down and assessing herself. Loki brought himself around Thor to better see her reactions. She looked over at him, dazed. “Well, that worked,” she said, “I have no idea of what to make of all this.” She laughed, shaking her head, then let go of Thor. “I think the hardest part is getting used to the altitude. How do I even walk like this?”

“One step at a time,” Loki said, stepping back and holding out his arms. Sophia carefully walked over, nearly tripping over a cushion. Thor snorted with laughter, and Sophia giggled as she met Loki and pulled him into a hug. “Your first steps as an Asgardian,” Loki said softly, and she squeezed him more tightly. Surprisingly tightly. Loki looked at Thor over Sophia’s shoulder, eyes widening as she kept squeezing. “She’s uh - she’s strong,” he said, trying to extricate himself before things got too uncomfortable.

She let go, shaking her head. “Wow, this is so unbelievable. But should we put up the illusion so that my parents don’t see...this?”

“You don’t even know your face!” Thor said. “Loki, could you…”

Loki blinked. “Of course, but it could be a lot. Sophia, would you like me to show you an illusion of yourself?”

She ran her fingers over her face, looking a little lost. “I suppose,” she said.

Loki looked her in the eye. Norns, it was strange to see her similarities to Thor. “I’d really like you to be sure.”

She stood up straighter, stroking the newly fitted clothes nervously. “I’m sure.”

A slight hand gesture was all that was needed to summon a simple, faintly shimmering version of Sophia. One hand over her stomach, she reached up to touch her own hair, then walked over, standing an arm’s length away. Her face slowly became more stern as she examined herself. Finally, she spoke. “I mean, it’s not like I have a say in how I really look. I don’t see myself there, but I guess - I guess it’s me.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Thor said cheerfully.

Loki felt a flicker of irritation that his brother wasn’t paying more attention. He knew it wasn’t just that easy. “Sophia, I’m a shapeshifter,” he said, hoping to lessen her discomfort, “and I’ve occupied a lot of forms over the years, some for long periods of time. I know from experience how strange it can feel to be in a body you’re not used to. You’ll find yourself in that reflection eventually, it just takes time.”

“Isn’t that what I said?” Thor asked teasingly.

Sophia turned, her arms wrapped around herself. “Just a different way, Thor. Thank you both. It’s still strange to consider you’re my brothers, but this is just another confirmation.” She gave a sad smile. “And I realized I didn’t say this before, but, I’m honored to be a part of your family.”

Loki looked at his brother, who was also smiling. “We’re honored to have you,” Thor said, “Now come over here and give me another hug.” Sophia grinned, then tripped and hit the floor, a pillow going flying. Laughter filled the room, Thor doubling over and gasping for breath before helping Sophia up.

After a brief hug, she shook her head. “That hurt way less than it should’ve.”

“Good old Asgardian genes,” Thor said, patting her on the back. “Don’t hurt yourself doing stupid stuff to see how much pain you can take.”

Loki snorted. “That sounds like something you’d do, Thor, not her.” Sophia smiled at him over Thor’s shoulder. “Sophia, shall I put that illusion on you?” Loki asked.

“Yes, please,” she said. “Do you need me to lie down again?”

“No, just hold out your hand,” Loki said. She did so, and he spun a quick binding rune over her wrist. No need to be fancy, it wasn’t going to be tested magically. Her form shimmered and changed as the illusion was applied, and with a quick flick of his fingers, the rune settled and faded into her skin. “There.”

She turned her wrist over, examining the illusion. “It’s strange, it’s like the outside doesn’t match the inside.”

“That’s entirely the point,” Loki said with a smile. “There’s different kinds of shapeshifting. This covers over a form, but doesn’t entirely have substance. A skin has substance, but still goes outside your form. When I shapeshift, it physically changes my form temporarily, but isn’t intended to last forever. A binding enchantment such as the one you had, however, that can be a permanent change, but in your case it was able to come off.”

“Ugh, she didn’t need a magic lesson,” Thor said, stretching.

Sophia shrugged. “It’s interesting. Magic is such a foreign concept, I like knowing more.”

Loki jumped with realization. “We should check your magical abilities! You might be able to do magic - oh, that would be fun.”

“God, it’s far too late at night for that,” she said. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Something seemed off. Looking up, Loki saw Thor standing perfectly still. “Thor?” His heart stopped when he saw Thor’s eyes.

They were the color of Heimdall’s eyes, a startling shade of orange.

Loki came closer, snapping his fingers in front of Thor’s face. He didn’t react. Loki put a hand on him and shook him briefly, but once more, he didn’t react.

Sophia and Loki exchanged glances. “Could he be seeing the future?” Sophia asked, her worry evident.

“I don’t know. When the Seer Osk answered our questions, her eyes were white. But that’s not the same as our visions,” Loki answered, walking around his brother.

Thor took a deep breath, blinking rapidly and shaking his head. Loki stepped back. “Was that a vision?”

“Yes,” Thor said, “I haven’t had one around other people before.” He rubbed his eyes, then looked around at the others. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Your eyes were like Heimdall’s,” Loki said. “Different than Osk’s. You weren’t responding to your surroundings.”

“Interesting,” Thor said, crossing his arms. “But my vision - Loki, are you going to Vanaheim?”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “Yes, I was going to tell you after Sophia left. Did you see something about it?”

Thor nodded. “I saw you and Forsetti riding in Vanaheim. You were ambushed - you were able to get away, Loki, but Lord Forsetti was killed.”

“Ambushed? Were they Vidfavne warriors?” Loki asked, concerned. This was real and immediate - was this a warning?

“I believe so, but I don’t know their clan colors. I can’t be certain,” Thor said. “Nevertheless, perhaps you should refrain from going.”

Sophia glanced at Loki, who was thinking. “Do we know the future’s certain?” she asked. “If you were to take a different precaution, maybe you could still go.”

“We don’t know if it’s a certainty,” Loki said, “but my suspicion is that it can be changed. That vision Thor had of a calamity - we couldn’t have been prophesied to exist if that type of future couldn’t be undone.”

“This isn’t theory,” Thor said sternly. “This is a man’s life.”

Loki nodded. “I understand that, but we don’t know the outcome of any change. If I were to go down alone, I might not be able to make it out alive. If we went a week from now, Forsetti still might be killed. Your coronation is soon - I’d like a few answers before then, and right now I have the time. Once you’re crowned, there will be a lot of business to deal with.”

Thor stroked his beard, staring at Loki. “What if you had an escort? The warriors and I could go with you. That way we can keep you both safe.” He paused. “If there’s ambush activity, that means the Einharjar aren’t doing their jobs properly, and I’d need to deal with that anyways.”

“I’m not keen on having a group of six - we were going to be asking some sensitive questions, and the more we have, the more...official we’ll seem. I need Forsetti, he understands the Vidfavne situation better than any of us.”

“We’ll split up in the villages,” Thor said authoritatively. “There’s no need to stick together. We’ll watch you on the roads and leave you to do your business in town. I’m sure Sif would love to sample the local ales, she hasn’t been to that region yet.”

Loki sighed. He really had been hoping to make his way around quietly, but there was no sense putting Forsetti’s life at risk. Plus the time with his brother before the upcoming coronation would be a nice change. “Very well.”

Thor glanced over at Sophia. “You’re exhausted,” he said, “Sophia, do you need to sleep?”

She nodded, yawned, and came over for another hug before she disappeared.

The brothers briefly discussed the minutiae of details for their morning departure before Thor started preparing to leave. “Hard to believe all this, isn’t it,” he said.

Loki looked his brother up and down. “Well, not really on my end. But you’ve...you’ve seemed to take to her quite quickly, especially after being so careful.”

Thor shrugged. “I don’t know, after talking with her today, she seems...trustworthy.”

“Trustworthy. Is that all. I don’t see you joking like that with people you find trustworthy.”

Thor shrugged as he moved his goblet to an empty platter, ready to be cleaned by a servant. “I feel comfortable with her, for some reason. Like I don’t need to put on a show for her. The same way I feel when I’m with you.”

Loki looked down with a small smile. “Thanks for the faith in me, by the way. I appreciated it.”

“It’s just how I feel, it’s nothing special, Loki.” His brother seemed distracted as he put cushions back on the couches in a rare display of assistance. “She seems to like you, you know. I might be comfortable with her, but you two - you’ve got something different.”

Loki considered this. “I’m unsure why. Sometimes I think we just understand one another more easily.”

“Exactly! That’s it. She was responding better when you spoke with her about her body. I don’t really get why she didn’t...understand what I was saying.”

It was probably the empathy, Loki thought, but he wasn’t going to bring that up with Thor. It’d been a good night overall, no sense wasting that. “Yes, brother. We’ll have to see how things go.” He clapped Thor on the back. “Now go get some sleep.”

Thor smiled and headed for the door, stopping before he made it. “Well done tonight, Loki. Your spellwork was just as masterful as mother’s.”

Loki gave a small smile, pleased at his brother’s praise. “Thank you, Thor.”