Whoops! *spills lgbtq+ all over my ocs*

TELL ME ABOUT T’STREI (did I spell that right) 🥰

You did!! I would LOVE to talk about my babygirl I have had her as an OC for sooooooo so long and she is everything to me

T’Strei is half-Vulcan, half-Klingon, born to a Klingon mother (J’egrahl) and a Vulcan father (Solek)

There’s a whole lot to T’Strei’s backstory. Like, so much that I have an entire timeline written up. It’s quite long. So I won’t get into it a lot here, in the interest of being somewhat brief. But it’s essential to know that J’egrahl raised T’Strei alone, and also she’s the Worst

T’Strei’s story is, first and foremost, about healing and self-acceptance. She first arrives on DS9 as a patient, though she’s already requested to be transferred there. She was recently rescued from a rogue group of Cardassians, having been captured by them prior to the end of the occupation, and she refuses to talk about her ordeal. Instead, she recovers, and throws herself straight into work as a security officer

She’s a cold, severe kind of person. Incredibly blunt, strictly logical, pretty typical for a Vulcan. But she has a temper, and she tends towards recklessness and impulsivity on the job. She hits first and asks questions later. She clashes with Odo constantly. She barely speaks to anyone unless she has to. She just goes through the motions day by day

But, like I said, this is a story about healing and self-acceptance. T’Strei does realize she wants something else with her life. She does make friends, albeit very slowly. And eventually she decides to change tracks, and she goes into medicine and works a lot with Julian. It’s a very important thing she realizes, that her hands don’t have to be weapons of destruction. She has a lot of passion for medicine, and takes great pride in being a nurse

She’s a deeply damaged person. There’s a lot of hurt in her, a lot of rage, a lot of trauma. She slowly comes to terms with that, and with herself. She finds a home with people who love her, even with the things she’s done. She finds a place to stick with through hell and high water. The road isn’t perfect, it’s bumpy and bruising and sometimes it hurts, but she stays on it. After a lifetime of never fitting in, she wouldn’t dare trade this. Not for anything

She’s a living weapon who realizes she doesn’t have to be. The daughter who refuses to bear the sins of her mother. Someone who has never fit in and so carves a place for herself. And she is also my baby my cinnamon APPLE and I think about her 24/7

everyone in empires au season 2!

Here we go again! For people who haven't seen this before, I've basically sorted a whole bunch of mcyt/adjacents into all the empires in s2, and provided headcanons and reasoning as to why theyre in that empire :D

As always i am open to suggestions/ideas for reasons/changes - just send me an ask!

Similarly, if you want me to add someone who's not there, you can also send me an ask!

Currently includes: Hermitcraft (specifically Season 9), Dream SMP, Bear SMP, Origins SMP, a few of the afterlife guys who arent already in empires, Traffic SMP(s), and a few other misc. mcyts

This will be edited as new information about empires names comes out/i add more people ^^

Key:

Local = person who lives nearby/in what could be considered part of an empire

Citizen = someone who is legally registered as part of an empire

Visitor = somone who is staying there temporarily/does not live in the empire

Inhabitant = lives in an empire but is not yet registered as a citizen

First person in every section is the ruler, but will have their specific title rather than one shared title (updated as the ccs tell us)

Archaeologists arent categorised in the same way as they are nomadic

---Stuff in [square brackets] is referring to an as-of-yet unnamed empire ---

Evermoore:

Shelby - (ruler) - Witch

Boomer - local - frog man :]

Tina - local

George - local

Charlie Slimecicle - local - slimey boi. Literally just a sentient slime. No-one's really sure why he and jevin are sentient but shelby thinks it was probably because the last witch to be sent out here was doing illegal magic (she thinks they were bored to death by the surroundings)

Jevin - local - swamp lad, sentient, see above

Petezahhutt - inhabitant - curious about the sentient slime rumours, wanted to know if they were like him (slime hybrid) they weren't but he stuck around to help them find their feet (literally because they were having trouble keeping a humanoid shape for long periods of time)

Dream - inhabitant - heard about the magic qualities of evermoore and moved there. Shelby thinks hes very brave to be studying the fog, and dream often gets stranded far from home bc the mist is feeling unhelpful

Sanctuary:

Sausage - (ruler)

Ivory - inhabitant - bc shes running away from something

Sniff - citizen - builder

Martyn - inhabitant - sought sanctuary and then proceeded to move in and annoy cleo to no end

Cleo - citizen - has lived here her whole life but is seriously considering moving. Joe is the only thing stopping her. And the fact that snake hair isnt exactly normal y'know

Joe Hills - inhabitant - moved from Stratos but only cleo knows this. Everyone else thinks hes normal :)

Tumble Town:

Jimmy - Sheriff - do i need to say more?

Tango - citizen - owns a ranch outside town :]

Billzo - inhabitant - took refuge from one very angry joey (who thought he was part of skeletrons army) and met eryn. Decided to hang around and cause mischief

Eryn - citizen - family has a farmstead near Tumble Town. Troublemaker

Schlatt - citizen - works in the saloon

Quackity - inhabitant - works with Schlatt

Sapnap - citizen - Eryns brother. I don't quite know why my brain decided that but it has.

Etho - citizen - works on tangos ranch. Used to be an outlaw but tango offered him a job when they met in the sherriffs office. Likes the peace outside of the town.

Sneeg - inhabitant (because no-one knows hes there) - builds little tunnels throughout the terracotta hills

Goblands:

Fwhip - (ruler) - goblin time (is short)

Skeppy - citizen - ore golem, can camouflage himself well in the cave. Fwhip found him in the deep dark and made him a citizen

Bad - inhabitant - from Eversea originally

Impulse - citizen - bc dwarf

Iskall - citizen - bc he's got a cave base this season

Pearl - citizen - she do be skrunkly

Guqqie - citizen - an alien who is desperately trying to blend in with the humans. On one hand no one's gonna notice in the Goblands, but on the other, they're gonna pick up some weird habits from the gremlins

Cub - citizen - chaos Chaos CHAOS

Mumbo - inhabitant - railway expert and infrastructure guy :] which is desperately needed bc Fwhip keeps making dangerous minecart tracks to everywhere

Eversea:

Joey - Captain

xB - citizen - bc guardian hybrid (lives in the lake w the mermaids

Niki - citizen - mermaid, sometimes follows puffy around to the other empire's ports

Puffy - visitor - another captain who frequents the bay. Trader?

Neptune - visitor - on puffy's ship (yes this is the same as last time. If it's not broken don't fix it)

Scar - inhabitant - sells magic crystals at the market. Certified scammer but is allowed to get away with it because he helps design new buildings for joey sometimes.

Micheal(mcchill) - citizen - runs a radio station from the top of one of the mountains overlooking the lagoon. Very rickety and unstable path to get up there but the broadcast can be recieved from any empire

Hypno - citizen

Animalia:

Lizzie - Mayor - Definitely a person. Elected apparently?

Antfrost - citizen - cat.

Ren - citizen - dog. Advisor to lizzie. Also bc last life the beloved

Hbomb - inhabitant - cat. Runs a cafe to draw tourists in! Theres nothing weird about this empire! :3{  <rubbing his hands together maliciously. Favourite pastime is bullying fundy whenever he walks past the cafe

James Marriot - citizen - employee of the cat cafe

Fundy - citizen - fox (and yoghurt :D)

Zedaph - inhabitant - resident scientist. Originally from off the continent but was welcomed into Animalia by lizzie because 'having a scientist proves we're as advanced as the other empires!' Hasn't caught on to the fact that the majority of the kingdom's citizens are straight-up animals and thinks theyre all hybrids like him

CPK - citizen - fox. no relation to fundy but does bond over thier shared dislike for the term fox-load because they can carry more than one block thankyouverymuch lizzie

Aimsey - inhabitant - showed up and was promptly adopted as Animalia's pet human

Archaeologists:

Pixlriffs - in charge of the team, was sent bc none of the other archaeologists wanted anything to do with the rulers over there

Xisuma - a spirit that collects cool bones to live in. Pix discovered him while unearthing an old temple and he's just kind of following the troupe around and being amazed at the world (was sealed in said temple)

EX is also trapped in a similar temple but X is doing everything he can to steer pix away from finding it/unleashing his hurricane of a brother. spoiler - it doesnt work >:D

Ori - a mildly unnerving citizen of Stratos who decided to tag along

Karl - original member of the team - keeps correcting Pix's pronunciation of the long-dead languages, and knows where finds are (or should be) long before a dig starts 👀

Skizz - original member of the team, very enthusiastic

Jack Manifold - intern who's following them around for work experience. Originally from Chromia

Chromia:

Scott - (ruler) - strange strange man

Ranboo - citizen - ive tried to put him elsewhere like four times but brain keeps saying chromia. Will update once i figure out a reason (also now i want ranboo and xornoth to talk) update: have not figured the reason but. hes staying so

Xornoth - backup leader - they found scotts empire and moved in, to his initial chagrin. Still backup ruler despite this because scott didnt trust the llamas to rule in his absence. They like looking after the llamas but kinda just hang around mostly

Wilbur - citizen - colourful language, creative

Stress - citizen - head of the flower industry (that then gets turned into dye for exports)

Beef - inhabitant - in charge of designing colourful fabrics and tapestries, originally from Sanctuary where he learnt banner-making

Hannah - citizen - works in flowers industry

Lauren - citizen - one of Scotts chief advisors, have known each other since they were little kids

[Falses]:

False :) - (ruler) - Her empire is pretty small considering its the newest but its one of the most closely knit communities as they all have to work together to improve the kingdom

Phil - citizen - hardcore survival things seem to fit here. First person to move here. Originally settled a little further downriver but ended up flying to False's area for materials and conversations anyway, and so, later moved into the centre hub of her empire to help her out and save time. DadTM

Tommy - citizen - turned up one day and false was just like well if you want you can build over there, strange bedraggled kid. Tommy did and false immediately regretted it because *cobblestone tower* Phil and False eventually managed to convince tommy to let them make his house look nice but it took a good couple of months.

Bearbubb - inhabitant - False isnt quite sure if hes a person or a literal bear as hes never spoken to anyone, but he seems polite, and built his own house so she let him stay. Although she has firmly decided he doesn't get citizen status until he asks for it. (Bear is just awkward, he'll talk to people eventually)

Sam - citizen - used to wander the server with doc because not many empires were open to hostile mob hybrids living there, then offered to help with a redstone project (an improved iron farm that was being finnicky) as he was passing and decided to stay. Tommy also took a liking to him and he built a base at the bottom of the cliff

Doc - citizen - was traveling with sam, same situation, neither of them wanted to stay in Sanctuary, where they started off, because they were tired of the new inhabitants walking on eggshells around them for months before they got used to them. His base is a pit all the way down to bedrock, affectionately known as The Well (due to its tendency to flood). There are levels all the way up with different redstone machines and storage cupboard on.

Glimmer Grove:

Katherine - princess

Beau - citizen - figured out where princess katherine was sneaking off to at night and made her agree to let beau help fight or she'd tell

Punz - inhabitant - moved from Sanctuary because he heard rumours that mercenaries might be needed. (Was only staying for the pay originally but got a little too invested and asked katherine if he and purpled could stay and help rebuild the empire too. (Will end up as head of defence for princess Katherine in the future but shhh)

Purpled - inhabitant - moved from Sanctuary.  Mildly annoyed that he had to leave his home in sanctuary, but at least the empire matches his colour pallette

Moonzy - citizen

Jonah - citizen - served Glimmer Grove before it fell, is at the forefront of the campaign to get it back to its former glory under princess Katherine

Megan - inhabitant

Dawn:

Gem - princess - fae of some sort

Fruitlegs - citizen - bard

Ponk - citizen - lighthouse keeper

Tubbo - citizen - bee boi

Techno - citizen - oversees the food production and makes sure everyone has enough and works out how much they can sell/export that week.

Welsknight - on Gems Council, in charge of defence against the deep dark

TFC - inhabitant - by proxy, lives in the ancient city and fixes the messes left when players visit. Sculk-grandad. Actually hes literally the opposite of Dawn, lives underground constantly. Warren of tunnels extends underneath all empires but people who try to explore them get lost. Nobody's died there yet bc TFC put a ward on the exits to draw people toward them and not the ancient city

BigB - citizen - baker, he makes bread and cookies from the farm produce

Stratos:

(Extra note here: citizen is someone who has been in the empire since it was founded about a hundred years ago when joel was exiled and/or has grown up there since. Inhabitant is someone who's come more recently from another empire)

Joel - an exiled god - adamant he is still his tall powerful self. Regarded as the leader of the empire nonetheless. People moved under his islands originally to be a part of the 'great god's empire' but a lot of them stayed even when they realised he was a wet rag/affectionate

Foolish and Jr and Finley - citizens - Foosh is an architect who helps Joel. He chose to live in the mortal realm but moved to Stratos when he heard about Joel's exile because he can sympathise with not living in the god's realm and wanted to help out. Hermes ends up playing with Jr and Finley when Joel's busy building

Eret - citizen - was one of the original settlers but somehow is still alive a hundred years later.... oh well, they knew living near a god would have its benefits

Grian - inhabitant - creator of the entity? check. vaguely eldrich horror? check. Was exiled? (very heavily encouraged to leave his hometown) after the entity ate someone by accident, and then he ended up here? Check.

Bdubs - citizen - look into those eyes and tell me he wouldnt fit right in with joels build style. He made a monolith, hed be a great addition

Callahan - citizen - maintains the temples to joel

Thanks to @scribbling-dragon for some of the suggestions!

Keralis - citizen - have you seen him?

Edit: OLI DO BE A BARD :D uhh if he makes an empire ill do a bit of rejigging and move ppl around but until then the skrunkly is just a wanderer

Phew done! :D

New Releases Feb. 20, 2024

All You Want, Whenever You Want (manga) by Omayu

Opposites attract in this risqué office romance! On the surface, handsome Sales Manager Tsubaki is all smiles and professional grace — but underneath, he's a workaholic who bears the brunt of a tyrannical boss and throws himself into work to avoid heartache. When his first encounter with the newest transfer to his division, Makino, results in a clash of personalities, Tsubaki assumes that they might be too different to get along… But the forthright and fearless Makino turns out to be just Tsubaki's type, and attraction sparks between them when they end up as next-door neighbors at the company dormitory! Tsubaki is determined to listen to his head over his heart and keep clear lines drawn between them, but there's no helping it; Makino's affections win him over despite his best efforts. Even though it might be a bad idea to mix business with pleasure, an impulsive hook-up turns into something more!

Assorted Entanglements (manga) vol. 4 by Mikanuji

She couldn’t care less about her teacher. But for some reason, she can’t leave her alone... When Kujo, a gym teacher whose thoughts on romance have been complicated by past disappointments, finally starts looking for a girlfriend again, she ends up enlisting one of her students as her wingwoman in exchange for not revealing that the girl, Sugimoto, works at a maid café. But it isn’t long before Kujo finds herself at the mercy of Sugimoto and her incessant advice. And yet, as the pair work towards their strangely shared goal, they find the tense distance between them giving way to feelings of affection...

I Cannot Reach You (manga) vol. 7 by Mika

Kakeru has finally realized how he feels about Yamato, and he wants nothing more than to be able to express it properly…but no matter how he tries, he just can’t quite pull it off. And when a misunderstanding arises between them, Kakeru ends up taking his jealousy out on Yamato…

I Think Our Son Is Gay (manga) vol. 5 by Okura

*Final volume*

Tomoko is no stranger to change. With two boys in high school and a husband who’s away on the job a lot, being able to adapt to new situations comes with the territory.

Now, Hiroki is throwing himself into his afterschool activities with bestie Daigo despite nursing a potential broken heart, and he’s even found a new hobby: Dancing!

Things also come to a head with Asumi, Hiroki’s childhood friend, who’s been crushing on Hiroki since probably forever!

And when dad Akiyoshi gets transferred back for work, the temporary family of three returns to being a family of four! How will Tomoko and the boys adjust to Akiyoshi’s presence?!

Everything happens under Tomoko’s watchful eye, as ever, but this time, Tomoko decides a little direct involvement on her part might not got amiss in the final volume of I Think Our Son Is Gay!

I'll Never Fall In Love With an Egoist (manga) by Emu Soutome

Aohara is a playboy; life is an everlasting summer and there’s no rest for the horny, especially for a top like him. Pursued relentlessly by a guy named Masaki, Aohara is frustrated when Masaki insists on being on top, and making Aohara the bottom. But Masaki is friendly and soft-spoken, making it hard for Aohara to fend off his advances…

Is This the Kind of Love I Want? (manga) vol. 1 by Kouki

When Uta comes out as gay and confesses he wants to sleep with another man for once, his friend Ryouma -- who's a virgin himself -- obliges. But Ryouma is straight. Or at least, he thinks he is. The two men live together as friends, living their own lives and dating their own partners. But they continue to be inextricably drawn back to one another…

A Kiss That Stains the Innocence (manga) by Emu Soutome

Ombra is a rough type who lives alone in the mountains. One day a man asks him for help; prince Sirius, the son of the king and his concubine. It's been ten years since the king razed Ombra's village to the ground, killing his parents and anyone he's ever loved. Now he's consumed by emotions, conflicted by his desire for revenge and perhaps something else. Meanwhile Sirius, who can’t remember his past, doesn’t recognize Ombra’s internal struggle, only aware of his growing feelings for the man…

FNAF OC - Renegade AU Paige Tea

https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/FNAF-OC-Renegade-AU-Paige-Tea-810923732

Published: Aug 25, 2019

Over the many years plus I've been posting, her design has changed a little bit, with that being what she wears and the parting in her hair. The most recent change in her design is the aforementioned parting, and that was the result of an impulse decision on a drawing of her that I tried to make more detailed, and then I decided that I liked the parting a lot, so it would become part of the design. I also don't really use the overalls around the waist as part of any outfits anymore as it reminds me too much about her old design from before I started posting. If you saw my art from four years ago, you wouldn't believe it was the same persons drawing.

The fifth drawing is of Paige Tea, the mechanic who is the self proclaimed team mum, which slots right into her overprotective nature. She knows the animatronics mannerisms incredibly well, and can tell what work needs doing practically at a glance as a result of her experience.

"I know what I'm doing, it's my job after all. And if you're wondering why those animatronic animals seem to bow at my feet, it's because they know that I could dismantle all of them, blind, and with one hand. How do the ghosts inside know this? How do they know that attacking me is a fatal mistake? I do the maintenance on the actual suits! That's how!"

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My FNAF OC. This design is used in my AU during the timeframe of 1993 to 2017.

Name: Paige Connor Tea

Nick-Name: 'Puma', 'PT' and 'Mechanic Mom/Mum'. However, sometimes just 'Mum'.

DoB: 8th July 1974

Height: 5'9"

Blood Type: A

Country of origin: England

Medical issues: PTSD (Post traumatic stress disorder) and hoplophobia

Personality: PT is a fairly chill person with a protective nature and a habit of refering to people way older than her as 'her children'. Whilst she tries to come off as a kind motherly figure, at heart she is a chill gamer and diligent friend.

Whilst at times, she can be overprotective and stubborn, she's pretty chill if there is no danger about. When those who she classes as 'her childern' are in danger, she will act in an aggressive manner towards prominent threats, but will always think before she acts, judging the best course of action to take. Stress inducing situations that aren't particularly threats can make her frantic, but she can keep a level head if she gives herself time to breathe.

She's analytical, intelligent and verry skilled in her field (Machines), and fairly resourceful. She's also a little bit of a pyromaniac, but always makes sure her hobby of looking at small contained flames won't get anyone hurt.

Story: She moved to Chicago with her parents in 1982 due to her fathers line of work requiring him to move to keep his job as business was scarce in the UK, and abundant over in America.

She regularly visited Freddy's where she started to meet all kinds of people, some of whom, would become her friends. Over the years, she got to know most of them from school, and from seeing them at the arcade in Freddy's. One such group were a bunch of boys, a bit older than her, whom she became firm friends with.

Regarding her school life, in a minor accident in chemistry class, she wound up spilling some chemicals which got on her hair. This changed it from ginger to pink; as a matter of fact, this accident was quite common at her school, so she wouldn't be the first and definitely not the last to wind up permanently changed this way.

In 1987, she developed a bad habit of getting locked in after hours, and no matter who she was with, always wanted to take charge of the situation which actually served her well during the lockdown when she ran to the office with a small group of other kids and teens to avoid getting killed by the now completely off the rails animatronics. During this event, she was able to actually get to know Phone Guy (she has talked to him before when he was talking to Mike, Jeremy, and Fritz, but she didn't see him often, and to nobody's surprise, he's a lot more prone to bursting into tears when left alone in a dark room with the constant threat of murder via animatronics) after accidentally falling through a hidden door. She started referring to him as a 'Red headed coward' as those were the main traits he showed in this event (also, its a much nicer nick-name that referring to your friend as an inanimate object). Also at about this time, she decided on wanting to become a mechanic and spent most of her time trying to fix mangle before it tried to kill everyone.

Between 1987 and 1993, she spent a lot of time working out at the local gym to become stronger, as well as focusing on school work and playing video-games. Sleep wasn't her priority. During these years, she figured out that one of the ghosts, who possessed toy bonnie before he was scraped, was now possessing her. So decided she would work at Freddy's as a mechanic to try and stop the ghost from bugging her as often as it was constantly nagging her to 'find the others', and so she could work alongside her friends in order to protect them. To hone her skills, she also took a night class in robotics to help brush up on her skills and anything that she may have missed.

This decision lead her to witness some very horrific and unfortunate events, which caused her to develop PTSD and also caused her to slowly become more like a mother than a friend to her fellow colleagues, especially Phone Guy as he's always getting himself in danger. She has slowly started becoming progressively more and more attached to the guards as time goes by and treating some of them as if they were her own children- except from the purple guy.

She is not afraid to completely destroy her own creations if they turn against her.

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daddy issues - chapter iii

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. It’s being constantly updated

       Leaving work later that day, Ransom was submerged in his own thoughts in a way he hadn’t been ever since he was a teen. Of course, his family - with the exception of his grandfather - thought he didn’t have much in his head, but the truth was that sometimes, he felt like he had too much. So, in an effort not to lose his mind, he decided to let it all go just before he turned fifteen. Everything. Every preoccupation, his mother’s expectations, his fear of never being good enough.        That had served him well up until a couple of months ago. Sure, it meant that he’d created quite a reputation for himself and he’d been involved in one too many drunk endeavors he would have preferred not to be associated with, but at least he had something to share, stories to tell. That would ultimately be extremely beneficial to him if he ever did decide to take his grandfather’s advice and write a book.        But then came the news that Harlan would cut him out of the will if he didn’t get his act together, along with the proposal that he should take over the publishing company, since his uncle was being reallocated to another family business, and he thought to himself, maybe this is it. Maybe this is the time to settle back and become what he’d dreaded so much. Maybe it’s time for him to forget about fun and amusement and discover what exactly was so great about maturing.        So he accepted the job and tried to focus on what he was supposed to be doing. Who he was supposed to be. It seemed like the right thing to do after he’d spent so long trying to run from any sort of difficulty in life. It seemed like he owed his grandfather at least that. But over the next few months, it became increasingly difficult to fulfill his duties without seriously reconsidering everything he had been before and everything he had tried to avoid thinking about, which had lead to his admittedly stupid impulsive behavior.        Ransom was in his late thirties now, and he was only starting to realize just how messed up he was. And that meant that the last thing he thought himself capable of becoming right now was a father.        Actually, Ransom had never even considered the possibility of ever becoming one. I mean, he liked the part that came before, very much in fact, but despite his playboy ways, he’d always been very careful about using a condom, especially since he didn’t want to deal with precisely the type of problem he was going through right now. But of course, even he knew that condoms failed and with his luck (and the amount of sexual partner he’d had) it was only a matter of time until it happened.        Fuck. What the hell was he going to do? It’s not like he even had a proper parental figure to learn from, considering his father was an even lousier son-of-a-bitch than him and his mother was a controlling freak. What was he going to do?        Ransom was startled when he realized he was nowhere near his house when he’d finally been able to snap out from his thoughts. In fact, his feet had taken him in the opposite direction, and he found himself easily following the familiar path to his grandfather’s house.        Just as the castle-like mansion appeared in front of him, he sighed, looking up at the window of Harlan’s office. It seemed like he was awake. He wondered what his grandfather would have to say about this situation. Harlan managed to be even more unpredictable than Ransom most times.       Still, Ransom knew that if there was ever someone who was capable of giving him any advice he’d actually follow, it was him.       Harlan, of course, knew something was up the second Ransom stepped foot in his room. He’d always been the one person capable of reading his grandson, and that meant he was probably the only one who actually somewhat understood him.       “Well, Ransom, it’s very nice of you to come and visit me when there’s no family dinner forcing you to, but care to share what actually made you drive all the way here? I know it has nothing to do with the company, otherwise, I would have already heard about it from one of the managers.”       Ransom couldn’t really be surprised about Harlan and his knowledge of him, so he settled for some feeling kind of comfort at knowing at least someone in this world could see right through him and actually cared enough to ask about his problems.       “I… I got someone pregnant.” The words came out weirdly easily, and it felt like some of the weight that’d been placed on him had now disappeared. He raised his eyes to meet Harlan’s, after his grandfather didn’t offer any immediate reaction, and the anticipation made him grow irritated again.       He really should learn other automatic responses.       “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Harlan took a deep breath before answering, a tiny smile playing on his lips.       “What are you expecting me to say? Congratulations or I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner?” The young man rolled his eyes, impulsively getting up from his seat to pace around the room. His mind was failing him, he couldn’t hold on to a single thought for more than a millisecond. He’d come all the way here in the hopes that Harlan would know what to do, the right thing to say to shed some light on the mess that was his mind, but he should have known better. That was not how his grandfather worked.      But his grandfather knew how *he worked. So he patiently waited, watching with piercing attention as Ransom tried to get a grip over his thoughts. He knew his grandson would need time, but he would voice his concerns sooner or later. And then, he’d be able to actually help, once he determined what precisely was Ransom’s problem with the entire situation.        “I’m not father material,” the young man suddenly blurted out, running his fingers through his hair and inadvertently messing his usually impeccable styling. Harlan smiled to himself, knowing only a year before this would never happen, not without his grandson suddenly leaping towards the nearest reflective surface just to adjust his hair. He’d changed so much already, but he still was overcome by doubts. “I don’t think… I think the baby would be better off not knowing me.”        And there it was. That overwhelming sense of insecurity was the reason for Ransom being the way he was. No matter how hard he tried to run away from it, pretend it wasn’t there, Harlan knew his grandson too well. And now that he was starting to change his life, facing his biggest problem was going to happen sooner or later. Since there was a baby in question, thank God it was sooner rather than later.        “My boy, I understand why you would think that. It’s not like you have had great parental examples to guide you in such a journey, and I even accept my part of the blame in that. But I think you have the wrong idea of what being a parent truly is like. No matter how it may seem to our kids, no single adult suddenly is struck by the obvious guidelines of how to be a perfect parent. We figure out as we go, and we make mistakes along the way. A lot of them. So I think the question that really matters here is… do *you want to be around to witness your child grow? Or would you be okay never really knowing what became of him or her?”        Harlan braced himself for the answer, knowing it would deeply affect him one way or another, but also aware that he couldn’t let Ransom see what his reaction would be like. It would only make the younger man angry. It was important for him to think he was the only one in charge of his decisions, and the only one affected by them.         When it became clear that Ransom was too lost in his own mind to come out with an answer just yet, his grandfather pressed on. “Look, Ransom, parenting is a skill, just like writing. Some people are born naturally talented, others have to rise to the occasion. You just have to figure out if you’re up for the challenge, because if you aren’t… I think it’d be best if you let them be.”        A few more seconds of heavy silence where Ransom still wouldn’t meet his eyes passed, and Harlan decided to ask, “Tell me, is *she ‘mother material’?” His grandson took a deep breath, once more running his fingers through his hair before admitting, “I don’t know. I barely know her at all. But she’s a professor. Of law, out of anything. And she seemed… good. Better than me, at least, and that’s a relief.”        The older man couldn’t help but laugh at how Ransom’s sense of humor tended to show its face in the weirdest of situations. He knew what his grandson should do, that he’d regret not giving this a try, but he also knew no good could come from trying to force Ransom into doing something when he wasn’t ready for or didn’t want to do it. So all he could do was wait, and hope the younger man would find the right answer by himself.       “I think I know what I want to do.”       Harlan couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in Ransom’s eye as he left the house without even remembering to say goodbye.

Ray Hijacks the Team ZIT Ghostbuster AU Again

So @shadeswift99 made a few posts a while ago about a Team ZIT(S) ghostbuster AU, And then I may or may not have hijacked the post to add in ideas for most of the other hermits because why not.

Now, back then I was spitballing ideas and making them up on the spot, which is admittedly my usual writing process, but hey.

That said, I've had more time to think about it, and then last night I blacked out for a few hours and came to with a Google Doc filled with short bios for all of the hermits and a handful of hermit-adjacents. Now, this rapidly turned into an urban fantasy AU in my hands, but hey. It's fun.

This is in alphabetical order, with alternate personas (EX, Helsknight, Beetlejhost) beneath their original counterparts when applicable:

Bdubs

Lives in an old mansion in the woods alongside Doc for reasons known only to them. Bdubs works as an interior designer, with a side gig as a freelance hairdresser. His eyes are unnaturally large, similar to Keralis’, and he is at least partially a plant. Completely feral and frequently gets in trouble for having knives on him at all times. He and Cleo have a thing called Knife Club which makes everyone else nervous. Nobody messes with Knife Club. It’s not worth it. Sunbathes frequently.

Beef

Is a perfectly normal human being. He works as a butcher with a side gig as a graphic designer specializing in album covers and spends his free time playing pokemon and dragging Etho along to social events. He was the first person to spot the cryptid, and the first person who Etho approached of his own accord.

Biffa

Is a ghost possessing a robotic shell. Biffa is from the future. While initially his main goal was to get back home to his own time, Biffa has since made friends and settled down into a new life running a cafe specializing in a wide range of teas. He’s quite content with this, and has actually found himself far happier than he was in his own time. While his nature means he can see, hear and touch ghosts, his body was built specifically for a disembodied soul to be in the driver’s seat, and he doesn’t want to risk another taking control. Also, he has more important things to do than have fistfights with ghosts.

Cleo

Is a ghost possessing her own dead corpse. Her nature allows her to see, hear and touch ghosts. Can and will fistfight spirits. She works as a teacher, so she’s usually busy, but occasionally in really nasty situations the Beetlejhost will drag her in to break a ghost’s legs. Does sculpture in her free time, and is actually really good. The only one who can wrangle Beetle to any real capacity, and she’s learned to keep him on a fairly short leash. Housemates with Joe, and Keralis also pops in pretty frequently. Has Knife Club with Bdubs. Has an enchanted flower crown that prevents her from decaying further; a gift from Beetle. Recently started learning magic in the form of necromancy and illusions. Has an ongoing ‘feud’ with Zloy, in which she temporarily traps his soul in random inanimate objects every now and then.

Cub

A bit of a ‘mad scientist’ archetype, Cub’s experiments are not exactly the most ethical, though they’re at least more professional than Doc’s. Responsible for the creation of Jevin. Cub gets possessed stupidly easily- sometimes willingly- and can usually handle it himself but sometimes has to call for help. Has a magical method of communication with Scar for exactly this reason. Has a day job as co-owner of a business called ConCorp, which he started with Scar. Has probably broken the Geneva Convention.

Doc

Was presumably human at one point. Now an abomination. Repeated experiments on himself have resulted in a massively changed facial and foot structure, a body covered in mottled green scales, claws, and goat horns. He lost half his face in one of his experiments, and constructed a new cybernetic one. He lost his right arm fighting God. Killed said god and would do it again. Lives in a mansion in the woods with Bdubs, though nobody’s really sure why. Owns a casino because of course he does. Also a living crime against fashion, because the man refuses to wear anything other than his tattered lab coat, torn jeans, and crocs.

Ely

Runs the local radio station. Nobody’s ever seen him in person, and nobody knows where he gets people’s voice clips for his remixes. Probably a cryptid. Maybe a ghost. Seems pretty chill, despite the blatant invasions of privacy.

Etho

Is a cryptid. Lives out in the woods in an abomination that can barely be called a house. Has never been seen in anything other than full Kakashi cosplay. Tends to keep to himself, but occasionally lets Beef drag him along to social events, often with Doc and Bdubs. Nobody really knows what his deal is. Probably not human. Probably.

False

Used to be part of an illegal underground cage fighting ring, until she earned enough to buy her way out. Having grown up in said ring, she struggles to adjust to normal life, but living in a town where the barista is a robot and the local tailor has wings makes it easier. She now has a job as security at Doc’s casino, alongside Iskall.

Grian

Is either an angel or a demigod, but nobody knows which. Has wings. Is both a tailor and an architect. A complete gremlin who has elaborate masks of various birds and will wear them to commit crimes. Eats seeds. Messes with everyone else’s plants. Lives in Jungle Wood Flats. Volunteers at the local theatre.

Hypno

Has three eyes, but hides the third one under a bandanna at all times. Can see ghosts with it. Had problems with sections of plumbing randomly getting clogged and also making very weird noises, and eventually called Team ZIT when the plumbers couldn’t find the source. Was prepared for ghosts, but wound up with a slime creature instead. Works in a $2 store for some reason.

Impulse

Is fully human. The most sensible member of Team ZIT (which admittedly isn’t saying much), Impulse has a day job as a freelancer building custom PCs and fixing broken tech. Agreed to the whole ghostbusting deal because he was bored, mostly. Was the first one to meet Skizz face-to-face, and is the one to own that particular place outright. Gets possessed every now and then, usually by larger spirits. Used to run solely on caffeine and chronic anxiety until Zedaph started getting on his case about his sleep schedule. Now he runs on less caffeine, more sleep, and the same amount of chronic anxiety.

Iskall

Was part of a cloning experiment to create the ultimate hitman, and was the only known one to both survive and escape before the whole thing was shut down by the authorities. Their eye and arm were replaced with cybernetics in order to increase their already enhanced abilities, and they were chased by said authorities, eventually winding up on Mumbo’s doorstep and becoming Mumbo’s problem. Now works as security at Doc’s casino, alongside False. Lives at Jungle Wood flats. Occasionally volunteers at the local theatre. Does bonsai as a hobby.

Jevin

Is the slime creature in the pipes. Hypno lets him live with him under the condition he stops blocking the plumbing and making weird noises at 3 AM (Jevin still blocks the plumbing and makes weird noises at 3 AM, just not as much as he was). Has taught himself to take a humanoid shape, and likes having fingers. Sleeps in the bathtub because he can. Was created from a vat of chemicals in a secret lab underneath the house, which used to be owned by Cub. Doesn’t really talk to the man in question that much, but will occasionally refer to Cub as his father for the sole reason of watching him go through eight existential crises in three minutes. Has a glock.

Joe

Head librarian at the local public library, and has read a lot of books on Supernatural Things. Is a veritable fountain of exposition if you can figure out what he’s saying or have Cleo along with you to threaten the integrity of his shins. Has never been seen in the same place as the Beetlejhost. Are they the same person? Are they entirely separate beings? Is there a Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde-type situation going on? Who knows!

Beetlejhost

Literally nobody really knows what his deal is. Nobody. Team ZIT ran into him on a call that they expected to be a false alarm and then he decided to follow them home. Spends most of his time being a minor nuisance in the most bizarre ways possible. Is implied to be responsible for the Ever Given getting lodged in the Suez Canal, but never confirmed. When he’s not bothering Team ZIT or getting them out of tight spots, he’s usually pestering Cleo, the only one who can keep him in line. It’s not really known if he and Cleo have a history or if they’re just Like That.

Keralis

Is a ghost haunting an architecture firm, and is mostly bound to the building, though he can travel to other buildings the firm has built, which is, uh, most of them. Initially only able to do small things- mostly writing notes or drawing diagrams- he eventually meets the Beetlejhost when the latter follows Mumbo to work one day for shits and giggles (he wanted to see how long he could mess with Mumbo before the man noticed. As it turned out, about a week, and by the end it was Iskall who noticed). After a couple of days in which Beetle teaches Keralis Ghost Things™, he scares half the office when he finally manifests for the first time. Has unnaturally large eyes and nicknames for most of the workers. Has no idea how he died or what his unfinished business might be. Very knowledgeable about architecture, and his input is usually very much appreciated.

Mumbo

Is a perfectly normal human being who does IT at Keralis’ architecture firm. Lives at Jungle Wood flats and spends most of his free time tinkering with tech and trying to keep Grian and Iskall out of trouble, which is a losing battle. Has a large, beating golden heart in his flat. He’s not really sure what its deal is, but if he feeds it apples it produces enough power for the entire building. Oh, and if he forgets to feed it for an extended period of time it starts draining his bank account. It’s really weird.

Pixlriffs

Was a perfectly normal human being until he died protecting a certain Russian zombie and became a perfectly normal ghost. Was a reporter in life and is a reporter in death. Runs a blog alongside Zloy about the local goings-on, supernatural or not. The blog’s the type where unless you live in/near the town you most likely won’t stumble across it, but they do have a small following of outsiders who assume the blog’s just a work of fiction. His unfinished business is to prevent Zloy from doing anything particularly stupid, a constant battle. Is able to go more places than Zloy due to being incorporeal, but respects people’s privacy. He’s bound to Zloy to a certain degree, not being able to go beyond a certain range of his friend. The range is pretty big, though, and he has plenty freedom of movement.

Python

Had a run-in with the fae as a kid, in which he accidentally pissed one off. In retribution, the faerie challenged him to answer a riddle or he’d be turned into a snake. Python’s answer was partially correct, so the faerie only transformed him partially. Python is fairly chill, though he strongly dislikes the cold and starts hissing if anyone disturbs him during Sun Time™. Sometimes Bdubs, being partially flora, joins Python for Sun Time™. He’s not venomous, because, you know...python. Also, he has a mildly disturbing habit of strangling rats and mice and then eating them whole, but he can’t help it and just tries not to do so when he has company.

Ren

Is a werewolf. He’s pretty chill regardless of form, though it’s only been recently he’s been comfortable enough leaving his ears and tail visible. He works as a lumberjack. One time Pixl introduced him to Monty Python’s Lumberjack Song and it quickly became his favourite thing. He spends most of his free time volunteering at the local theatre because Ren is absolutely a theatre kid and nobody can convince me otherwise. Gets possessed every now and then. Lives in Jungle Wood flats.

Scar

Works as a landscape developer. Gets possessed absurdly easily, though not quite as frequently as Cub. Has a magical method of communication with him. Technically co-owns ConCorp, but isn’t as involved. His cat, Jellie, is very obviously an eldritch abomination in feline form and he is comedically unaware of this. Lives in Jungle Wood Flats with Grian, Iskall, Mumbo, Stress, and Ren.

Skizz

Is the ghost haunting Team ZIT’s office. He was murdered by someone he’d thought was a friend who was trying to use his place to hide from the cops, and he’s stuck around, haunting the building. His unfinished business is to make sure nobody else uses the building for anyone shady, but the ghost rumours tended to chase most people off. Eventually he gets used to having Team ZIT around, and when Tango admits he doesn’t really have anywhere to go one day, Skizz eventually makes the decision to finally unlock the still-furnished upper floor for him. He’s bound to the building, but Impulse learns that carrying Skizz’s old vest with them allows him to leave. After that, Skizz sometimes accompanies them on missions and occasionally just hanging out. He’s usually more helpful than the Beetlejhost is.

Stress

Is a witch. Stress lives in Jungle Wood Flats and works as a doctor who specializes in supernaturally caused injuries- Team ZIT are some of her best customers. She also sells magic potions of various kinds, and has a side gig as a florist. She’s 90% of the Jungle inhabitants’ impulse control. Also has cryokinesis.

Tango

The Team ZIT member with a car. He gets possessed with frankly ridiculous frequency, but claims not to believe in ghosts for a long time (and keeps up the bit for even longer). Has developed various signals to indicate when he’s being possessed again. The strongest one, a rather nasty demon Cleo and the Beetlejhost had to team up on, left him with his glowing red eyes. He didn’t really have anywhere to go before Impulse bought the office, and tended to sleep on the couch or in his car until Skizz decided to let him into the upper floor, where he now lives alongside Zedaph and Impulse.

TFC

A now-retired ghostbuster, TFC calls in Team ZIT one night when he finds himself in over his head against a ghost with a grudge. He winds up becoming a bit of a mentor figure to the trio, usually coaching them over the phone if they’re not sure how to deal with one of the stranger spirits. Lost his leg years ago in a fight with a poltergeist that could have gone better, and now has a robotic prosthetic made by Doc.

Wels

While Team ZIT was out investigating some rumour or another in the woods, they came across a large stone box. Following video game logic, I guess, they then decided opening this large stone box sounded like a fun idea. Well, Tango and Zedaph did. Impulse was a bit more hesitant. The box actually held a medieval knight who’d been put in an enchanted sleep for centuries by his demonic doppelgänger, and was very much not prepared for modern life. Team ZIT took him to Xisuma, who happened to live closest, and Wels is currently helping out on the farm and trying to adjust to life in the 21st century. He can understand and speak modern English just fine because magic. Volunteers at the local theatre quite a lot.

Hels

Is Wels’ doppelgänger. Technically a minor demon. Won a fight with Wels and sealed him away for centuries as a result. A recurring problem. His real motivation is that he really desperately doesn’t want to go back to Hell, but he’s too proud to admit it. Lives in the woods with EX, who’s basically his only friend, though the weirdo with the brown cardigan keeps pestering him about his backstory and feelings for some reason. Has minor pyrokinesis.

XB

Like Biffa, XB is also a ghost from the future, though it seems to be a different timeline than Biffa’s. His unfinished business is preventing the apocalypse, but he has no idea how to do that, no idea if he’s in the right timeline, and is pretty sure he’s gone back a lot farther than he probably should’ve. Also, there’s the whole paradox issue, where if he prevents the apocalypse he never has a reason to go back and prevent the apocalypse, so he doesn’t prevent the apocalypse, so he has to go back and- he tries not to think about it too much. He mostly just hangs out in an abandoned house on the edge of town and vibes.

Xisuma

Is a beekeeper. Nobody’s ever seen his face; when he’s not in his beekeeping outfit, he’s either wearing a helmet, or (more recently) an extremely lifelike and detailed animal mask (is it a mask?). Actually a shapeshifting alien, he crashed down to Earth after a scuffle with his evil clone and was stranded because Earth doesn’t have the right tools or resources to repair a spaceship. These days he’s actually found he’s happier tending to his bees, selling honey, and helping his friends out, and probably wouldn’t leave Earth even if he could. It’s a simpler life, but a pleasant one. He bonds with Biffa over a shared love of tea and being stranded in a technologically inferior world and finding a home.

Evil Xisuma

Is Xisuma’s clone. Feels that if everyone’s going to call him ‘Evil’ he may as well own it. Shot his original’s spaceship down in a scuffle but wound up being brought down with him. Currently hides in the woods. Generally more of a minor nuisance than an actual danger. Used to spend his free time bothering X but has gotten put off by Wels, who has a problem when it comes to evil clones. His friends consist of Hels, who is a terrible role model, and Zedaph, who’s trying to help him work through his problems behind everyone’s backs. Can summon lightning because he deserves it.

Zedaph

Is the reason Team ZIT is ghostbusting in the first place. He’s a sheep shearer by trade, but that’s a fairly seasonal thing and ghostbusting is more fun anyway. Has somehow never been possessed, and claims it’s because he’s always standing next to Tango. He makes sure the other two gets enough sleep Because we all know they can’t be trusted to do it. Probably has some sort of really bizarre and situational magical powers he is thoroughly unaware of. Qualified to be a licensed therapist. Made friends with Evil X at one point, somehow.

Zloy

Like Cleo, he’s a ghost possessing a corpse. Unlike Cleo, there’s a good chance it’s not his corpse. Eh, it’s not like anyone else was using it. Runs a blog with Pixl, because why not. Was already a zombie when he met Pixl, who was still alive at the time. His body is a bit more decayed than Cleo’s, but it’s fine. His goggles are enchanted with the same preservation spell; it’s not really ever explained where he got them from. Has no regard for privacy but is fortunately unable to turn invisible or phase through walls due to inhabiting a physical body. Both can theoretically physically fight ghosts and has enough time to physically fight ghosts, meaning he would be a valuable ally if he could be bothered. Lives in a graveyard. Has an ongoing ‘feud’ with Cleo, in which he puts jabs at her on the blog. Once spent a week as a (very sarcastic) floating potato.

Hermiton

Is the name of the place they all live in/near. Located in an ambiguous location in an ambiguous country, Hermiton is technically large enough to be considered a city but has Town VibesTM. Supernatural going-ons are a fairly normal part of life, and a good number of inhabitants aren’t humans. Despite this, the wider world seems mostly ignorant of the existence of ghosts, magic, etc. I’m not too sure about geography, but it’s surrounded by forest in most directions and in a warm enough climate to not have snow in the winter (so Python doesn’t, you know, freeze to death). Most people don’t tend to bat an eyelid at strange-looking people walking down the street or serving them at the store; they’re used to it by now. There are several theories as to why Hermiton specifically has so much going on when it comes to the supernatural- ley lines, secretly the resting place of some long-forgotten god, et cetera- but it’s actually more of a case of ‘people who have supernatural traits hear rumours of a place where a lot of people have supernatural traits and go there in search of answers/a place to belong’. This doesn’t exactly explain where all the ghosts came from, but hey. Nothing’s perfect.

Something's Different About You Lately - Epilogue: Borrowed Time

Life goes on, impossibly.

Read on Ao3

---

Martin shifted the bag of groceries in his arms as he climbed the stairs, still feeling a bit nervous.

The dinner had been Jon's idea – his O&M instructor was covering kitchen skills, and he'd thought it would be fun for the two of them to try making something together. The recipe had sounded a little elaborate to Martin, who'd protested that he didn't cook much, but Jon promised that it wasn't beyond them. He added that Martin was ‘perfectly capable' in the kitchen anyway, and said it with such prim, knowing confidence that Martin hadn't even bothered to ask. Before he knew it, he was writing down a list of ingredients to bring over.

He supposed that was just going to keep happening, Jon telling him things about himself. It was . . . strange. Sometimes it was endearing, sometimes just annoying. Occasionally it made him feel sentimental and a little bit sad in a way he couldn't put his finger on.

The door to the flat opened after a moment of knocking, and he smiled as Jon appeared.

"Hi Jon, it's Martin," he said. He'd read online it was polite to say your name, to not assume the other person will recognize your voice. "I've got the groceries."

"I know it's you, Martin." His tone was light and a little condescending, and Martin felt heat rise to his ears. "Come on inside. You know where the kitchen is."

Martin slipped past him and set down the bag, pulling things out and arranging them on the counter as Jon followed him to the kitchen.

"The store was out of chili paste," he mentioned.

Jon shrugged. "We'll improvise, then."

"If you say so."

Jon began taking out cookware, placing things down wherever he found counter space. "Do anything interesting today?" he asked, over the clatter of pans.

"Not especially. Filled out a few applications, then took a walk," he said. "Met a really friendly dog in the park."

"Flattered that you tore yourself away to come here."

"Wasn't by choice, her owner wouldn't let me keep her."

"How unreasonable."

It was weird, not having to worry so much about money. Not that Martin was complaining of course, but there was still a voice in his head telling him he was being too slow and selective in his job search, that it was lazy of him. And he felt anxious dipping into the new funds too much.

He'd just about gone into conniptions when Sasha told him what she'd done while she'd been fiddling with Elias's computer. Embezzlement might not have been an escalation when they were already committing arson, but they could still get caught, and wouldn't a financial windfall point a lot of suspicion towards them? But she kept assuring him that it was untraceable, some hidden fund Elias had, ready to be drawn on by anyone with the account information. The running theory was that he'd been keeping it for his next identity, which . . . yeah, the less Martin thought about that, the better.

Fear of discovery aside, he couldn't deny it was nice having a buffer like this. There was space he'd never had before to think about where he wanted to be, what he wanted to do with himself. And with the bills taken care of, Jon could focus his time on recovering. At the urging of his O&M teacher (and some amount of prodding on Martin's end) he'd even started talking to a counselor every few weeks. It was ostensibly just about handling the emotions that come up with sudden, traumatic vision loss, and he doubted Jon would be discussing the more exotic traumas he'd been through. Still. It was probably good he had something like that.

They went about the business of prepping ingredients, talking idly about food, things they'd done in the past few days, updates from Tim and Sasha. Martin's initial nerves already dissolving into the steady flow of conversation. There was something comfortable, he reflected, in being around someone who was so comfortable with him.

"Would you mind--" Jon frowned, fiddling with the hob on the stove. "I've got this, I'm fairly sure. Just . . . make sure I keep the pan centered?"

"Sure."

He came to stand behind Jon, watching over his shoulder as he set the carefully oiled pan on the stove and turned on the heat. Martin was a terribly distracted spotter, his attention frequently straying from the pan to look at Jon's face, pinched slightly in concentration. There was a single bead of sesame oil on his cheek, and it made his intensely serious expression that much more charming.

Despite his concerns, Jon had the pan well handled as he heated the oil and added in the aromatics. Martin only noticed him drifting once, the flames going high on one side of the pan.

"A little left," he advised.

In a moment of impulse and bravery, Martin curved an arm around him – placing a hand on his elbow, then running it down his arm to cover Jon's hand with his own, guiding the pan carefully into place. Jon leaned back, fitting the curve of his body into Martin's and sighing deeply.

"God, I've missed this," Jon exhaled. "Just . . . cooking dinner with you. All these little domestic things."

His voice was so unselfconsciously fond. It made Martin dizzy, just how easily affection poured out of him.

In hindsight, at least part of Jon's strange, awkward behavior around Martin had been a result of him holding back, wary of letting his feelings show. He never held anything back now -- his demeanor going from nonchalant or haughty to unbelievably soft and loving at the slightest prompting. It still took Martin by surprise, inspiring so much unreserved affection in someone. It wasn't anything he'd usually associate with himself. It was strange, and lovely, and at times made him feel almost frighteningly powerful.

He leaned forward, kissing the soft skin just beside Jon's ear. Jon smiled, holding his pose for a moment before gradually returning his attention to the pan, shaking it gently to move the vegetables around. Martin kept a hand on his, now fully for the sake of touch rather than any pretense of assistance, letting Jon's movements guide them both.

"Did we cook together in that cabin a lot?" he asked.

Jon nodded. "It was one of a handful of things we could do that felt . . . well, like a date, I suppose. We couldn't really go anywhere since we were lying low. I mean, we could walk around the area, isolated as it was, but trips to the village were all short and functional. So preparing something elaborate together made an evening feel special," he smirked. "You used to get defensive, too, just like today . . . saying you didn't really cook, like you were trying to lower my expectations."

"In my defense, I never said I didn't cook, just . . . ." Not since mum left , he thought. "Not for a while."

"To be honest, we were both at a disadvantage in that kitchen," Jon continued. "There weren't a lot of modern conveniences there. The power came from a generator, and the stove was an ancient, wood-burning thing that neither of us quite knew what to do with at first. Took a lot of trial and error before we really managed."

"Sounds cozy."

"Oh yes. So cozy we almost suffocated ourselves before we figured out how to adjust the vents."

Martin smiled, listening to Jon describe the little kitchen in that place. The cabin in Scotland had supposedly been a remote safehouse the two of them laid low in, but the way Jon talked about it sometimes it might as well have been a romantic holiday retreat. He made it sound so nice that Martin once idly suggested they go see it someday. Jon had gone tense and quiet at that, had shaken his head and said softly that they had to stay far, far away from that place. That there was nothing good that happened there now.

Jon was mostly open about the things he remembered. But sometimes "open" meant he'd easily speak at length about something, and other times "open" meant he'd answer your questions with short, one-sentence explanations, volunteering nothing unless pushed. And anything about the police officers he'd apparently worked with fell solidly into the second category.

Sometimes it seemed like they might have been friends, but Jon was always adamant that no one ever try to contact them. Daisy in particular seemed hard to talk about. Martin did know about the coffin. Jon had told him in a soft, emotional voice how another Martin had stepped from his cloud of isolation to set out tape recorders calling him home, how it had been one of very few things that let Jon believe he hadn't given up on him yet. And he knew something had been different about Daisy after the coffin, some sinister force like the one that had kept them at the Institute had loosened its hold on her.

He also knew that Jon was terrified of her, that he said again and again she was too dangerous to go near. That something about her made him sad -- and, Martin suspected, guilty, though he wasn't sure why. It was a topic he'd decided not to push . . . if Jon ever wanted to talk more about it, he would in his own time.

There were other things, things closer to home for Martin that Jon had hesitated over. Once while he was recounting the events of those years he'd paused mid-sentence. Stammered that it wasn't all supernatural in nature and some of it may still happen, and was he sure he wanted to know everything? Martin imagined Jon thought he was being subtle, but it wasn't a hard guess.

He told Jon not to give him the date. It was obviously going to be within the next couple of years, there was no spitting out that apple of knowledge. But he didn't want to be able to mark it on his calendar.

It shouldn't have felt like news, that his mum was going to die soon. Shouldn't have been the uncomfortable weight in his chest that it was. She was ill, of course it was coming, it had been coming for a while, hadn't it? But maybe that was the problem. It had been ‘any day now' for such a long time, ‘any day' had stopped feeling like a reality. And he still wasn't sure what to do with this information, if it really changed anything. Should he try to get some sort of closure? How did you make the most of the time you had left with a person who refuses to see you?

Martin hadn't asked Jon how much he knew about his mum, that just wasn't a conversation he was eager to have. But the careful, hesitant way Jon talked around the subject suggested . . . something, at least. Just like how the gentle, quiet tone he got when he talked about the Lonely told Martin more than he really wanted to have explained.

There was only one thing Jon flatly refused to tell him about, and that was whatever Elias had done to him on the day of the Unknowing. When pushed, Jon had gone quiet for a while, then said he didn't remember. It had been a lie, and a bad one, and both of them knew it. But it was clear there was no point in asking for more.

"You like pizzelles, don't you?"

Jon's voice snapped Martin to the present. With a last squeeze of Martin's hand, he turned off the flame, moved away from the stove and over to the pantry.

"Um, dunno?" Martin said, pulling his thoughts back together. "Never tried them."

"Really?" Jon frowned, pausing halfway to the cabinet door. Then he shrugged. "Well, no matter. You will."

Martin rolled his eyes. Jon spoke with so much more authority than anyone deserved to hold over another person's cookie preferences, and he couldn't help feeling contrary.

"No. You stepped on a butterfly last week and set off a chain of events that forever changed my feelings on pizzelles, I hate them now."

"That's all right," Jon said, popping open the plastic package and arranging the cookies on a plate. "If you don't want these, there's also canned peaches for dessert."

"Oh, don't you dare --"

Jon snickered, picking out a broken piece of one of the large, thin cookies and holding it out, just short of passing it into Martin's mouth. With an annoyed grunt, Martin leaned forward, taking a bite.

Damn it. It was really, really good.

---

Jon sank into the couch, pleasantly full and a little bit tired. He leaned back and listened to the sound of running water coming from the next room.

Martin had insisted on doing the dishes, on the basis that Jon had done "all the real work" of cooking. He wasn't sure that was true, but didn't argue. Just asked that he leave everything in the drainboard when he was finished so Jon could put it away later. He knew he'd be frustrated for hours if the dishes weren't where he expected them to be.

There were so many frustrations in his life now. His O&M instructor had promised he'd learn new ways to move through the world, that in time the frustrations would be fewer and fewer, and he'd find himself capable of nearly everything he'd done before the loss of his sight. Jon believed her, but it didn't make the prospect of getting there any less daunting. Nor did it make the learning process any easier.

The worst were the things his instructor would never understand, that no resource or guidebook would mention. The dread that gripped him when he became disoriented and found a door where he wasn't expecting one. The phantom tickles on his body that prompted him to pat himself down for spiders again and again.

Still. He was alive. The others were freed from the institute, and he was there with them, to struggle and to mourn and to continue on.

A part of him would always fear it had been a mistake. That the Web, or the Eye, or some other power still had plans for him that would reach apotheosis someday. Maybe he saw the fear as vigilance, as though something was waiting for him to feel safe so that it could rip that security from him. And as long as he never allowed himself to be truly, entirely at ease, that day would never come.

Irrational, perhaps. But it was so hard to tell anymore which irrational fears were truly irrational, and which would one day manifest with teeth and claws.

Even if nothing ever came for him, they had only bought the world some time. One day, maybe soon, someone would figure it out and attempt a ritual again. Maybe there would be others out there who would catch it in time, postponing the end over and over, forever. Or maybe someone would do it next week, and Jon would be plunged along with everyone else into unspeakable suffering until Terminus claimed them all. He could follow Gertrude's path if he chose, devote his life to stopping rituals at the cost of everything he cared for. Even then one could slip past him, come from someplace he hadn't been watching, or had been made not to notice. At some point he was going to have to find a way to live with that knowledge.

He'd work on it. But for the moment . . . .

The sound of running water stopped. Jon smiled, scooting to make room on the couch, feeling the cushions sink and shift as they took the weight of another person. With a hmm that came out with more whine to it than he'd wanted, Jon found Martin's arm and tugged it towards him. With a quiet laugh, Martin obliged, leaning into him and resting his head against his chest.

"Better," Jon arranged their limbs more comfortably. Martin's hands were still cold, and he smelled faintly of dish soap.

"Glad to hear it."

Jon knew Martin found it amusing, how clingy he was. The first time he'd commented on it had been profoundly embarrassing. Part of it was just the way Jon was, but he also remembered the days after the Lonely. The skittish, uncertain moments of contact, the times when Martin stiffened at his touch but whimpered when he pulled away. The other days, when they could barely let go of one another, when Jon would plant himself beside Martin or wrap his arms over his shoulders, and he would relax into it, sighing with release. Both of them too grateful for the fragile miracle of each other's touch to consider breaking contact.

This Martin didn't remember those days, and if he ever sensed anything desperate or reverent in the way Jon clung, he didn't comment on it. Still, even if he found it funny, he didn't seem to mind how ardently Jon held on to him.

Jon moved a hand into the space between Martin's shoulder blades and scratched down his spine, the particular way he used to like. Jon felt him shiver with pleasure under the soothing contact, and a powerful warmth spread through him.

"God . . ." Martin whispered, "you really know everything about me, don't you?"

Jon snorted. "Hardly. In a very real way, we barely had time to get to know each other. And when we did, well . . . it was close by necessity. It was intimate, and intense. But there's still a great deal I've no idea about."

"You were never tempted to use those powers of omniscience to look inside my head?"

"Constantly," Jon said, with great seriousness. "But I never did. I promised."

Martin went quiet at that. Maybe Jon's reply had been a little intense, or maybe Martin hadn't actually realized that looking inside his head had been a possibility when he'd asked the question as a joke.

"Oh," he said eventually. "Um . . . good?"

"I have picked up a few things," Jon continued, speaking with quiet and fond admiration. "For example . . . I know you'd like a pet, but your landlord won't allow them so you keep plants instead. You can't say no to panhandlers. You have a favorite hoodie that you only wear when you're sad and need the comfort. You like old, careworn furniture, and rainy days, and sitcoms that were made before you were born. You're kind to people who aren't kind to you, but you never forget the unkindness."

"Wow. Okay," Martin made a soft noise, shifting in his arms, voice tight and quiet. "Okay. Y-You're, uh, probably going to kill me if you keep that up, you know."

"Trust me, you've survived worse."

He felt Martin move a little higher, slotting himself beside Jon and giving him a tight squeeze. Jon grinned as the breath was pushed out of him, all twenty-four of his ribs contracting at the assault.

That was another difference, one of dozens of subtle changes Jon couldn't keep his mind from analyzing. Martin wasn't ungentle, exactly. But he hugged Jon more tightly, shoved or poked him when he was annoyed, whereas the Martin in his memories had held back a little. Been more mindful of his strength, as if wary he might handle him too roughly. It had been subtle, a thing Jon hadn't even noticed until he had something to contrast it against.

It made sense, he supposed. The other Martin had seen Jon limp back to the institute with fresh wounds and new scars one too many times. This one didn't have to have those images in his head.

There were some things that were lost between them, Jon knew that. Memories too small and simple to explain, questions he couldn't ask anymore. Moments they would never share, both good and bad. But there was also so much they had gained. This Martin hadn't had an easy life, not by any measure. But he hadn't had to watch helplessly as the people around him died or disappeared or became monstrous. Hadn't been lost in grinning corridors, or attacked by Hopworth's hooligans, or made to feel the heat of the endless tenement fire. And for that, Jon was so, so grateful.

"You look thoughtful," Martin commented.

"Mmm," Jon sat quietly for a while sifting through his thoughts before speaking. "We should go to a movie sometime. When I'm up for going out out."

"That sounds less fun for you than me . . . ."

"Depends on the movie. I could listen, even without description. And I'd enjoy being with you," he said. "Or maybe a concert? Though I don't really know what sort of music you like . . . ."

"Really? There's actually a blank spot in your catalogue of Martin trivia?" he said sarcastically. "Surprised it never came up."

"You only ever used headphones at work," Jon bristled, feeling oddly defensive about it, "and we obviously couldn't bring our devices to the cabin. Too traceable."

"Hmm," there was a teasing smile in Martin's voice. "Don't know if I want to tell, now. Feels like I've got a secret."

"Oh, except . . . there was one song? I don't know the lyrics, but you used to hum it all the time in the cabin."

"What was it called?"

"I didn't actually ask. It sounded nice, though. Maybe we could listen to it together. . . "

"How'd it go, then?"

He hummed the tune from memory. It came easily to mind, connected as it was with images of Martin sipping tea or wiping down a countertop, a bright, easy smile on his face. After a moment, Martin burst out laughing.

"That's -- that's from a soap commercial!"

". . . What?"

"Floors and doors, walls and halls, Liquid Lather cleans them all," he spoke-sang along with the tune. "It was probably just stuck in my head."

Jon frowned, mildly disappointed. "Well. It sounded nice when you were humming it, anyway."

"God. If you want I can serenade you with an insurance advert sometime."

"No thank you."

"Or we could listen to your album from uni," he pushed, the satisfied smile in his voice growing.

"Thankfully we never recorded anything," Jon grinned ruefully, "so that's lost to time."

"Bet you could still sing some of it."

"Try me the next time I'm not expecting to live through the night."

Martin made a displeased sound at that, but said nothing.

"I'm sorry that you always have to come over here," Jon said. "I should probably be making more of an effort to get out of the flat. But it's so much still, even with a guide. I can do it if I have to, but I can't relax."

"C'mon . . . you know I don't mind, and even if I did it wouldn't be something to apologize for. You're going at your own pace."

"Suppose I'm just impatient with myself. It feels absurd, I've walked through a London warped by unfathomable terror, but now ordinary city life is overwhelming. I think I never understood how many people there are on every block until each one became another unpredictable factor to be aware of on my way to the damn corner store," he sighed. "It may be a while before I'm up for anything like a concert."

"It's alright," Martin gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I'm good at waiting."

For a moment Jon's mind went to a dark, creaking bedroom, air heavy with dust and thick with terror. It's all right. I'm good at waiting. The same phrasing, almost the same tone. Maybe it was to be expected, little parallels like this. Given a person's linguistic habits and enough time it was probably inevitable, but every time something like it happened it floored Jon in the most wonderful way. Some small but meaningful part of the man he loved reflecting and echoing back at him.

If the world didn't end, if he didn't dissolve into spiders or die at the hands of some unfathomable terror, Jon swore someday he'd find the words for how moments like that made him feel. And if he had any courage left in him, he'd tell Martin about it.

"Though, as long as we're talking about that," Martin said, "I've been thinking . . . ."

"In general?" Jon teased.

"Sort of. I've been reading some stuff about adjusting to vision loss? And I know this is fast – well, maybe not fast to you – but it seems to me like it's probably easier, especially at first, if you've got a sighted person staying with you . . ."

He felt himself breathe in sharply, and Martin's words came faster, his tone careful.

"Not - not to do everything for you, of course! I know you can do things yourself. Just to make little things easier, and – you know, that aspect aside it – it might just be nice –"

"Yes," Jon said decisively.

"Because it isn't really just the vision thing – I mean, it's alright if you do need help but it's also alright if you don't – but there's other reasons – "

"My answer is yes."

A faint laugh came out of Martin and he slapped Jon's chest lightly. "Stop agreeing and let me finish."

"Sorry."

"I'm not suggesting moving in. That would be too fast, at least for me," he said. "I'd want to keep my own place, and I'd probably still spend some time there."

"Of course," Jon nodded solemnly. "Perfectly reasonable to want some space of your own."

"Yeah. But if it works for you, I thought I might get a bag together, y'know, just sort of stay for a while? I – hell, I wouldn't, uh, mind the excuse to cook more dinners with you? And I slept better than I had in a while the night I stayed over here."

"So did I."

"I just think it might be nice. If you think so too, of course."

There was a pause as Jon waited, not sure if Martin had more to say. After the silence had dragged on for a while, he spoke up. "Am I allowed to say yes now?"

Martin laughed, nodding against Jon's chest.

"Then yes. I'd be very happy to have you stay here with me."

"Cool. Cool . . . " Martin exhaled. " . . . I love you."

"And I love you."

"More than I'll ever know?"

There was a teasing smile in Martin as he echoed the words Jon had said to him back in the tunnel. Jon was quiet for a moment.

He'd meant those words when he'd said them. It hadn't been a romantic turn of phrase. He'd confessed his feelings in that moment with the understanding that Martin would never be able to see how deep they ran. That he could tell Martin he loved him, but he'd never be able to show him that. He wouldn't have the chance. He found Martin's cheek with a hand, turned his face towards him, then bent down and kissed him, once.

"No," he said. "Not if I can help it."

Jin Rusong Lives / On AO3

A morning in the life of Nie Huaisang now that everything has changed

Nie Huaisang wriggled his fingers, fighting the impulse to grab the ties of Jin Rusong's underclothes and help. It would have been faster, it would have been more efficient, and his ward was going to be late for class again, and… 

The knot unravelled again, provoking a frown on the child's face. Unable to resist any longer Nie Huaisang lunged forward, only to have his hands batted away with absolute authority. 

"I can do it," Jin Rusong complained, sticking out his tongue as he set out to try again. "I'm big, and Feng-jie says only babies need other people to tie their clothes for them." 

Nie Huaisang smiled nervously. He had personally never fought hard to be independent when he was a child, perfectly happy to let other people do everything for him until his father or brother decided he was too old for it. Even back then, he had never put any effort in anything that didn't interest him. He'd taught himself to read at four, but couldn't put his boots on the right foot until he was ten. 

Jin Rusong wasn't him. After having been sheltered all his short life, he could have been expected to remain shy for a long time… But he really was his parents' son and had quickly proven he could be quite sociable once given the chance. In the last two months, he had made quite a few friends already. 

The downside to that was that he had started comparing himself to other children and, in true Jin fashion, had hated that they knew how to do things he couldn't.

It was perfectly normal apparently, and Nie Junyu said Nie Huaisang’s job was to encourage and support Jin Rusong's efforts. Which he tried to do, but sometimes… 

The knot unravelled again. Jin Rusong pouted, suddenly on the verge of tears. 

"I'll never do it right!" 

Nie Huaisang sighed, and smiled as he grasped the ties. This time, he wasn't stopped. 

"Like this," he said, making the knot as slowly as he could so Jin Rusong could see it. Then, in spite of how late they were already, he undid the knot. "Now SongSong can try again, one more time." 

"I don't want. I prefer if uncle Nie does it for me." 

"Just one more try. You know uncle Nie is so proud of SongSong when he tries his best."

"But I've tried so hard! It never works." 

It had been a spectacular failure so far, but Nie Huaisang blamed himself more than Jin Rusong. A good student could only do so much with a bad teacher, and in the two months that Jin Rusong had been under his care, Nie Huaisang had come to the conclusion he was not, and by far, a very good teacher. It gave him a new sympathy for Lan Qiren. For Jiang Wanyin and Lan Xichen as well, who had both helped raise their nephews and never seemed to struggle with it.

Sighing again, Nie Huaisang tied the knot one final time. 

"Later I'll ask Nie Junyu if he can tell us a different method," he offered. "He's the one who taught Feng-jie, so he must know how to do it right. I’m sure he’ll be happy to help, and it’s important to ask for help for things you can’t do alone, right SongSong?"

A lesson Nie Huaisang wished sometimes he had learned better. It was a little late for him, but Jin Rusong wouldn’t have to turn out like him. The child did not answer right away, but Nie Huaisang simply took his silence as agreement and worked on putting the rest of his clothes on.

"You won't get mad if I never learn?" Jin Rusong asked with hesitation.

Nie Huaisang’s hands froze for a second. 

"Why would I be mad at SongSong?" he asked lightly, grabbing the next layer of cloth. "Is it something that happened before, people getting mad at SongSong when he has trouble with something?" 

"Mommy says it's important I'm good always," Jin Rusong replied after another too long pause. "Because people will be mean to daddy if we're not all very good. Sometimes LingLing is not good," he added with just a touch of judgement. "But I try because I don't want daddy to be sad." 

"SongSong is such a good boy," Nie Huaisang said, quickly finishing to dress him up. "Let's go. Fang Mingtian is going to scold me again. I need to start waking up earlier so we can maybe try to be on time someday." 

Jin Rusong tilted his head, and offered a foot so his boots could be put on. 

"Uncle Nie is the sect leader. I thought people have to be nice to the sect leader?" 

"Please, do explain that to Fang Mingtian,” Nie Huaisang muttered, grabbing him in his arms as soon as his boots were on. “And to Nie Junyu because he did scold me last week when I was late for that meeting.”

Jin Rusong nodded a little too seriously, as if he really intended to explain to everyone that they needed to be nicer to Nie Huaisang. He really was the most precious child in the world, and Nie Huaisang could only hope his ward nephew would keep that innocence and good heart a while longer.

When Jin Rusong had been dropped in his class (and Fang Mingtian scolded Nie Huaisang for being so late once more), Nie Huaisang headed to his office to deal with the day’s business. It was usually the matter of a shichen at most now that he no longer had to feign incompetence, and then he’d be free for the rest of the day unless something came up.

Nie Huaisang had finished sorting through some requests and checking a series of bills when Nie Funyu joined him, bringing a few more urgent cries for help that had just arrived that morning, before telling him that some merchants from Qinghe had requested an audience with him about some matter they needed Qinghe Nie’s help with.

“Does it look urgent?”

“No, but Huang Xuhuan is among them,” Nie Funyu pointed out with a grimace that Nie Huaisang mirrored.

“That entitled… Fine, I’ll see them right away,” Nie Huaisang sighed, rising from his desk. “It’s probably still about that trade deal he wants to get with Yunmeng. They must think that I’m on good terms with Jiang zongzhu again.”

Nie Funyu raised an eyebrow at that remark, which Nie Huaisang ignored. He’d exchanged a few letters with Jiang Wanyin, and many more than that with Jin Rulan, but he wasn’t so foolish as to think he got along with either of them. Still, of course Jiang Wanyin’s visit a few weeks earlier had been noticed. And when Jin Rulan came to check on his cousin, as Nie Huaisang expected him to do at any moment, there would be still more gossip about reconciliation between Qinghe Nie and the other sects.

Stupid.

Nie Huaisang had further ruined his sect’s reputation, and there would probably not be any going back from that.

Pushing away that unpleasant thought, and as they walked toward the throne room, Nie Huaisang tried to focus on something that he could still do right: Jin Rusong.

-

“I’ll need you to explain to Jin Rusong how to make a knot,” he told Nie Funyu. “When I try, he doesn’t manage it, and he’s scared he’ll never manage. I think he’d profit from a better teacher and you’ve had all those children, so...”

“He is still young, it’s normal for him to struggle,” Nie Funyu replied with a small frown. “It’s A-Feng bothering him with that, isn’t it?” Nie Huaisang nodded, a little embarrassed to be exposing the little girl that way. “I’ll tell her to be nicer to him about that. She’s just figured it out recently, so she’s boasting a bit but she shouldn’t make other kids feel bad. Not to mention she’s nearly a year older than him.”

“I’ve tried to explain that to him before, but he doesn’t listen, “ Nie Huaisang complained. "I wish…" he sighed. "Dage would have known what to do." 

To his surprise, Nie Funyu burst out laughing and had to stop walking.

"Nie zongzhu, no offence, but your brother was really out of his depth when he found himself suddenly in charge of you,” he said when he managed to calm down. “He kept asking Fang Mingtian what to do, and he every other day he had to beg Zonghui to help because he was the only one who could make you eat vegetables."

"I don't remember that," Nie Huaisang mumbled, opening his fan to hiding behind it. "He always seemed so sure of himself about everything."

“Again, no offence, but he let you get away with everything because he didn’t want to be too harsh. With how things were with your father toward the end…”

Nie Huaisang nodded grimly, grasping his fan a little harder. His father had been a good man, a great father, but after his sabre broke, things had been… different. Nie Huaisang had been too young then to understand why, not much older than Jin Rusong in fact, and so all he remembered was a sudden change, bouts of anger, and ultimately…

It still surprised him sometimes that he hadn’t recognised the same symptoms in Nie Mingjue, years later.

He hoped Jin Rusong would never have to see those symptoms in him. With how little he cultivated, with the fact that Jin Rulan would probably want his cousin to return to Carp Tower within a year or two… it should be safe, Jin Rusong wouldn’t be around when the family curse caught up with him at last.

“Your brother didn’t want you to be scared of him like you’d become scared of your father,” Nie Funyu soberly said. “He spoiled you rotten, never scolded you as much as he should have, let you fail in your studies without consequences, he never even really pushed you to practice the saber… We were a little worried how you’d end up at one point, but in the end you turned out fine, Nie zongzhu.”

Nie Huaisang scoffed and started walking again. No need to make those damn merchants angry.

“Sure, aside from the…”

“You did what you had to do,” Nie Funyu cut him, following him. “Not the way the rest of us would have gone about it, but I promise you there isn’t a person in Qinghe Nie who isn’t proud of what you did for your brother. And your brother would be proud as well,” Nie Funyu added before his sect leader could try to protest. “He’d be proud that you avenged him, and he’d be proud that you’re trying to do right by that child.”

Of that, Nie Huaisang was less than sure. Nie Mingjue had been a good man, but his sense of justice had not always been very fair as such. Maybe he would have wanted the total annihilation of Jin Guangshan’s bloodline, the way he had desired the end of Wen Ruohan’s. Maybe…

But there would be no knowing what he would have wanted. Nie Huaisang was left with nothing but his own judgement to decide how to act. A rotten tool to use, and one that had brought him mostly trouble. Still, it was what he had, and he’d work with it.

“I think I’ll play it stupid with Huang Xuhuan,” he whispered to Nie Funyu just before they reached the throne room. “It’ll make him feel he can safely show his hand. Please don’t hesitate to roll your eyes and huff behind my back, it’ll help sell it and you do it so well.”

“That would be because it’s a sincere reaction, Nie zongzhu,” Nie Funyu retorted, fighting a smile. “Can’t believe they buy it when you overact like that…”

Nie Huaisang winked at him from behind his fan, then schooled his features into a pathetic, worried expression as he entered the room where the merchants waited.

“Huang gongzi!” he cried out. “What an honour to have a visit from you! Such an honour, I can’t say how pleased I am… and your friends too of course. Such a pleasure! Did you want to discuss something?”

The merchants grinned, confident that they’d get their way as always, even though that had never actually happened yet. And behind him, Nie Huaisang knew that Nie Funyu had already started rolling his eyes.

It wasn’t how he’d hoped to spend his morning, but this might be fun too.

i wanna know what love is - 30

Pairing: rockstar! sebastian stan x writer!reader

Warnings: fluff

A/N: y/n’s exit is definetely inspired by peggy olson. the next chapter is the last one and i’m very emotional. enjoy xx

Last Chapter // Next Chapter

It had been the best first weeks of her life. She had her own little office space, had people who’d come to criticise her work instead of asking her to proof read theirs, people would listen to her, people would even allow her to decide what topic to write. It was her dream come true, somewhere she could grow without being stunted. However, her heart was still broken, she was doing everything to ignore thinking about Sebastian or even hearing about him. She had given her article to Rolling Stone, remembering that she had promised Sebastian to help clean up his imagine, he deserved that at least.

She returned to her flat around night-time, tired yet pleased with today’s work. Y/N opened the door to see her grandfather sat on her coach. Suddenly she regretted giving her mother one of her flat’s keys just in case. He was probably here to tell her that he was right about Sebastian and that she should have gone with who he thought was better for them. In reality, none of them sounded like a good idea right now.

     - Your mother told me you got the New Yorker job. - he started before Y/N could even close the door behind her. - I just wanted to congratulate you on it. I know you always wanted it.

    - I thought you were here to talk about how right you were about Sebastian. 

    - I’m actually here to talk about Sebastian. - he spoke, patting the seat near him. Y/N sighed, it wasn’t like she could kick her grandfather out, she wasn’t heartless. She took a place near him. - Your mother also told me you two aren’t together anymore.

    - You were right about Sebastian, he doesn’t want to be with me. I don’t think he actually ever wanted to be with me.

    - No, darling. I was wrong, I was wrong about him. He is a good man, a good man who loves you. Trust me, I really wanted him to be a bad guy because that meant I could introduce you to someone who could provide to you but the thing is, you don’t need no one to provide to you. You have your own home, you made it on your own. - he held her hands. - I heard him on the phone with the New Yorker back in Maryland asking them to look at your university articles.

    - But he said ... - her mind seemed to shut. It couldn’t be true, she had read the magazine, he had ignored her once they got back to the bus. He’d stopped calling her a day right after she stopped answering him, she’d even heard rumours he was back to his womaniser behaviour. - I read it in the magazine.

    - You’re a writer, not everything writers write is truth. - he patted her on the shoulder. - You don’t need a perfect relationship, those don’t exist, darling. You need a relationship where both parts love each other and push each other to be better. You’ve always pushed everyone around you to be better and by making that call, he’s forcing you to be a better professional. 

    - He’s not the man you want me to bring home.

    - But at the end of the day, he is the man you want to bring home. 

He hadn’t stayed longer but after he left his words were still tattooed on her mind. She had read the words, he hadn’t even tried to explain them to her but on another point of view she had also not tried to get into contact with him, she had been an impulse driven woman scared to get heartbroken again.

She picked her phone from her wallet, going through her contacts and finding Mary’s number. She still talked to her, messaging her ever so often under the rule that Sebastian’s name wouldn’t be mentioned. She pressed the phone symbol, hearing the phone ring until the very familiar voice of the redhead came through. 

   - Look if it isn’t the big shot writer. How are you, lovely?

   - Can I speak with Sebastian? - she said before she lost the courage.

   - Aw, darling. He’s not touring with us anymore, he quit early. 

   - Do you know where I can find him?

   - I don’t know. Fred thinks he might be in Brooklyn but we don’t know exactly where. 

   - Alright, thank you.

   - Wait, you are not gonna skim the entirety of Brooklyn to look for Sebastian. I know you live by the Upper Side which is relatively easy to navigate but Brooklyn isn’t.

   - We’ll I’m gonna try. It can’t be hard. 

Good thing about working for the New Yorker was that she had access to fact checkers who found it very odd that the new kid was already asking for favours but they decided to help her out. There were 10 people with the same name as him and same age range on the Brooklyn area. She quickly got into a taxi which drove her to Brooklyn. She decided to do the rest of the walk on foot as the addresses weren’t too far apart from each other. The first 9 ones had been a disappointment with people who definitely weren’t Sebastian. The final house didn’t even answer leaving her to sit on the sidewalk.

This had all been her fault, if she had been a rational being which she always had pride herself in being none of this would have happened if she had decided to maybe storm into his bedroom and demand an explanation. 

  - Excuse me, darling. - she tilted her head from the floor to see an old woman staring at her. - The second hand shop down the street, back when he was a kid he used to sell a lot of stuff to it, maybe they know where he lives.

  - Thank you. - she gave her a kind smile clutching down her wallet as she walked to the second hand shop. She opened the door, a bell ringing as she entered. A man standing behind the checkout looked at her, he was probably in his mind sixties, busy polishing a hunting knife. Y/N gave him her “I don’t mean harm smile” and walked up to him, eyes particularly fixed on a old beaten up guitar hanged on the wall. It wasn’t exactly something you’d hang there. - Hi, a lady on the street told me you could possibly help me.

  - It depends, sweetheart. - he stopped polishing his knife. - What do you need? 

  - She told me you could possibly tell me where to find Sebastian Stan? - she knew she probably sounded like a crazy fan but she didn’t mind. She was tired, all Y/N wanted to do was to find him so she could try and explain why she acted the way she acted. 

  - It depends, sweetheart. What can you give me? - Y/N sighed, opening her wallet, she only had 30 pounds which she slammed on the ground. - I know where his mum lives. 

She knew Sebastian and his mum weren’t in the best of terms but she could possibly know where his place was. Besides, he had met her family so maybe she could ask his mother about him. The man scribbled an address on a piece of paper, sliding it up to her. 

  - Why do you have that broken up guitar hanged on the wall? - she asked as she looked at the address, making sure she wasn’t being scammed.

  - Belonged to the person you’re looking for, sweetheart. - Y/N’s ears perked up. She should do something nice and she remembered how much he would smile when speaking about that guitar. - 100 dollars.

  - No way, it’s broken up besides I just gave you 30 dollars, that’s all I have.

  - Those are some nice earrings you have there. Real diamonds?

  - The earrings for the guitar and a bag. - Y/N negotiated, bringing her hand to her ears to pull the earrings off, placing them on the balcony. - That’s my last offer.

He shrugged, handing her the guitar on the bag. She placed it over her chest like a cross bag and rushed out of the store. Y/N put the address on her phone and started to walk to Sebastian’s mum’s place. She suddenly despised the fact that she had decided not to change out of her work clothes and looked like an absolute fool.

After a few minutes of walking in the most uncomfortable heels ever created, she reached a small apartment whose door luckily was opened by a man who was already coming in. She entered the lift pressing the 5th floor wondering about what to say to his mother. What was she supposed to say, “Hi I left your son because of my stupid behaviour”? No. 

Anyway, she didn’t have enough time as she found herself knocking on the door which was opened by a woman who had the same eyes as Sebastian’s, she would recognise those eyes everywhere.

  - Hi, darling. You’re alright? - she asked in a very soft and kind tone of voice.

  - I’m sorry to be bothering, I know it’s late. I just ... I really need to speak with Sebastian. Do you know where he is?

  - SEBASTIAN! There’s a girl here for you. - she turned her head to face the inside of the house, calling out for her son, surprising Y/N. Had they finally made up? - Quick, now. 

  - What? - Y/N saw his head peaking through the door. He placed his hand on the door, pushing it wide open, his expression tense. - Wiley, what are you doing here?

  - I need to speak with you. - she pulled on her nail, eyes on her heels as she didn’t dare look at him. 

  - Right, I’m gonna make some tea. - his mother interrupted, sensing the tension between them.

  - C’mon. - Sebastian gestured her to follow him. Y/N followed him through the flat and into what she thought was his bedroom. It was a simple bedroom, too simple for the persona she knew he liked to pretend he was. He scanned her up and down not believing she was here and not knowing what to say. - Where are your earrings?

  - What earrings? - she pushed her hair to cover her ears, taking the guitar from her back and handing it to him. He furrowed his brows, taking from her hands and opening the bag to see his old guitar, a smile stretching on his face. - I’m so sorry. I just, I read ...

  - Did you sell your earrings? - he interrupted her. - Y/N, you shouldn’t have sold you earrings.

  - I just, I needed to apologise to you. I should’ve at least started with you, like a regular girlfriend but then I read that you had said that we weren’t dating and I thought you only wanted to sleep with me and I ...

  - I told them we weren’t dating at the time the picture was taken because I didn’t want them to think you’d gotten the job because you slept with me. I know I acted like an asshole before but I didn’t want to jeopardise your career, I wanted you to be criticised for your writing not because you were with me. 

  - I’m so sorry, Seb. - she looked at the ground. - I feel so stupid. 

  - It’s okay. - he wrapped her arms around her. - I’ve done my fair share of stupid, pretty sure I’ll make even more stupid.

  - Wait! - she tilted her head to stare at him. - You’re forgiving me?

  - Well, yes. You are an heiress. - he chuckled, making her playfully slap his chest. - I love you, Y/N. There is little I won’t forgive you for. 

  - I know it was you who got the New Yorker to read my articles and I’m really grateful. I just have something bothering me.

  - What?

  - Did you sleep with my boss? Because if you did, you have to tell me or it’s gonna be really awkward during the Christmas’ office party. 

  - No. - he laughed, pulling her against him. All he wanted right now was to hold her and make sure she wouldn’t leave. - Me and Helena went to school together. She copied off me once, owed me a favour.

  - So you’re friends with my boss? That is somehow worse.

  - I see you got the job then. - he sat down of his bed, pulling her down with him. - Y/N, marry me. 

  - Yeah, alright. - she chuckled, rolling her eyes. Sebastian placed her down on the mattress, walking over to his bedside and pulling a small blue velvet box. He put himself in front of her, getting down on one knee. - What are you doing?

 - Look, I know that we haven’t been dating for more than a year but I love you. I can’t think of myself with anyone else but you and no one else knows me but you. We don’t need to get married right away, we can even stay engaged for the rest of our lives. I just want to wake up everyday next to you with the hope that one day you’ll give me the pleasure of being my wife. Y/N Wiley, will you please marry this dingus?

 - Did you just call yourself a dingus? - she crotched next to him, staring at him with loving eyes. - Yes, I will marry this dingus.

London, July 1943: Excerpt from a work in progress

After nearly twenty minutes, Foyle decides that he might as well walk.

A cab pulls up at the entrance to the Victoria Coach Station every few minutes, but the drivers favour passengers in uniform. Difficult to resent that in wartime, but it quickly becomes clear that they’re really looking for the Americans – ready, willing and able to pay twice the normal fare. There are throngs of them in London: on leave, newly returned from North Africa, giddy with the success of the Sicily landings. Foyle keeps looking for familiar faces but sees none.

It’s barely a mile to Charles and Pamela’s place, if he recalls correctly, and it’s a fine day. After almost three hours cooped up in the coach it’ll do him good to stretch his legs. He hasn’t brought much with him and his suitcase is easy to lift. He picks it up and sets out.

Travel remains slow and uncomfortable, as it has been for the past few years. The discomfort is as much psychological as physical. Posters with such inscriptions as Must you travel? and Is your journey really necessary? are still displayed at every station, and Foyle had weathered a few cold stares from passers-by as he entered the coach stop at Hastings.

But it’s Charles and Pamela’s twentieth wedding anniversary on Saturday, and it had been kind of them to invite him. He really doesn’t feel the need for a change of scene, as they seem to feel he must, but he is curious to know what London looks and feels like with no official duties to discharge, even in the midst of the war.

And the war is everywhere he looks. Westminster has been spared neither bombing nor the depredations of the war effort. The railings have been removed from the familiar public garden he passes as he walks north along Buckingham Palace Road, and the garden has been cut up into allotments.

Buckingham Palace itself, he recalls as he makes his way past it, was hit repeatedly in 1940; it’s hardly a moldering ruin, but clearly only stopgap repairs have been carried out, the King and Queen waiting out the shortage of manpower and materials along with the rest of the country.

And as he walks across the Green Park he sees that it’s the public garden writ large: stripped of ironwork, much of the land being used to grow food.

At length – it’s a longer walk than he’d remembered, after all – he reaches Arlington Street and the drive in front of Arlington House. In 1936 Charles and Pamela had given up the fine Georgian house in Highgate that they’d taken before their son Alan was born and moved into a large flat in this mansion block, just completed at the time in the height of modern style. The move was a practical one, they had said: the place was and is an easy walk from the Admiralty, where Charles’ duties were demanding increasingly long days, and their daughter Averill’s school – now evacuated to Yorkshire – was also fairly close by.

Arlington House still stands, but it’s sandbagged and most of its metal ornament is gone. Some windows on the lower storeys, Foyle observes, have been blown out and boarded up.

‘My name is Christopher Foyle – I’m here to visit Commander and Mrs Howard,’ Foyle tells the elderly porter, who looks him up and down in an appraising way.

‘Yes, sir. They’re expecting someone by that name,’ the porter concedes, sounding a bit skeptical. At once he adds, ‘May I see your identity card, please?’

Foyle had suspected, and still suspects, that Pamela was privately relieved at the end of the Howards’ conventional existence in the suburbs. As he waits for the lift he reflects, not for the first time, that it’s hard to decide which seems more unlikely: her decision to leave her earlier life of vaguely Bohemian gentility for marriage to a Naval officer, or Charles’ choice of her as his wife.

Not that they aren’t well suited. They were both born into well-to-do families whose fortunes had been made during the previous century from the more refined aspects of trade: fine printing and engraving in the Howards’ case, textiles for the Fourniers. Pamela’s parents, though tolerant of their daughter’s artistic inclinations, had put the kibosh on her youthful ambition to become a ballet dancer.

Of age by the time the last war began, she had joined the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry, driving an ambulance between Calais and a point that was often unnervingly close to the front. After the war she’d been one of the countless women to whom marriage had seemed an unlikely prospect, if only given the small number of surviving men. Although she had no real need to earn her own living she’d found a position at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, as a Deputy Company Manager, the first woman ever to fill that role.

And then, one evening in 1922, she’d somewhat reluctantly accompanied her father to a banquet at Drapers’ Hall. There she had been seated to the left of 1st Lt Charles Howard, R.N., a junior executive officer in attendance to represent the office that supplied Naval uniforms, still a bachelor at nearly thirty-two. (Foyle has never been entirely clear about how old Pamela is.) They were married nine months later. The wedding was a spectacular business in a Regency chapel of ease in St John’s Wood; Andrew, five years old and saucer-eyed throughout his first visit to London, had been a pageboy.

The brevity of their courtship had caused some talk, according to Rosalind. Still, it was a conventionally appropriate match – but also, Foyle knows, a very happy one. Pamela found Charles bright, witty and kind as well as quite handsome. His determination to remain in the Navy – in the teeth of his family’s expectation that, as the only surviving son, he would return to civilian life and enter the family business – had struck a chord with her, even as the novelty of life as a mildly rebellious bachelor girl with a toe in the demi-monde was beginning to wear off. Charles’ sense of duty was counterbalanced, and his own long-neglected aesthetic interests reawakened, by Pamela’s creative impulses and artistic connections.

It is Pamela herself who answers the door of the flat and laughs gently when her brother-in-law is unable to conceal his surprise.

‘Jill was called up,’ she explains, ‘and there’s really no hope of replacing her. They’ve all been called up! Not to worry, though — I haven’t yet taken over the kitchen. Mrs Ellis is still with us, bless her, so we won’t starve! It’s awfully good to see you, Christopher, and I’m very glad you’ve come. It means a great deal to Charles, as it does to me.’

Rosalind and Pamela had taken to each other at once, and became quite firm friends, Foyle recalls.

Mrs Ellis brings in tea, apologises for its meagerness and withdraws to the kitchen.

‘Would you care for something a bit stronger than mere tea?’ Pamela enquires. ‘I can imagine that you might need it, after travelling in this day and age. There’s no whiskey of any description, I’m afraid, but we do have a bottle of rather good Portuguese sherry.’

‘Well, um, perhaps a very small glass. Thank you.’

Sounding less facetious, she asks after Andrew.

‘He’s, um, he’s well,’ Christopher replies. ‘Not that it’s easy on him – not that I wouldn’t prefer to see him in some sort of nice, safe job at a desk – but he holds up all right on the whole. How’s Alan?’

‘Happy as the day is long — adores the Royal Naval College, talks constantly about the Painted Hall, and is quite convinced that we’ll win the day just as soon as he’s on active service!’

‘That’ll be, um, another two years, won’t it?’

‘Quite right,’ Pamela says dryly. ‘A bit long to wait, in my opinion. He has a chit for the week-end. He’s asked after you.’

‘It’ll be very good to see him. What about Averill?’

‘I’m afraid not — she won’t be here, I mean. Keighly’s a long way off, fifteen’s a bit young for such a long journey on one’s own — as I see it, at any rate — and they’re keeping those girls busy year ’round there. We haven’t seen her since Easter — and we went there. Quite a trek in these conditions! But there’s some good news on that score — the school’s coming back to London in September. I don’t know that I was meant to tell you that,’ she adds, ‘but there it is.’

‘Is that wise?’

‘Charles and I have had a few conversations about that, I can tell you! But Keighly’s not all that far from either Bradford or Leeds, and they’ve both been Blitzed. I suppose that the governors think that they may as well take their chances! In any case the decision’s been made — and it’ll be marvelous to have her home.’

‘Of course. I understand you have a new job,’ Christopher adds.

‘Yes. I’m afraid I wasn’t much good at making Sten guns — they showed me the door, Christopher, to be perfectly honest! — so I’ve joined CEMA as a sort of manager-at-large.’

Christopher frowns, puzzled.

‘Seema?’ he asks. ‘Oh, the Committee, um... ’

‘Or the Council, as it is now, for the Encouragement of Music and Arts.’

‘That part of the Government?’

‘No, not as such. It was run strictly on private funds at first, but Parliament has awarded us a hundred thousand pounds per annum — and Mr Bevin absolutely loathes us!’ Pamela adds with great glee. ‘Some of the people we’ve reached,’ she continues, sounding more serious now, ‘have never seen a live performance of anything before — they’ve simply never had the opportunity — unless it was the village amateur dramatic society, I suppose. It’s truly wonderful, Christopher — we’ve had letters from people who tell us that we’ve opened up whole new worlds for them! War does break down barriers — as dreadful as it is to think of it doing anything beneficial!’

‘I’ve often heard – um, the young woman who was my driver – I’ve often heard her say much the same thing.’

‘Would that be Miss Stewart?’

‘Oh – yes.’

‘We’ve heard some very encouraging things about her.’ Pamela smiles and sips her tea. ‘As it happens, CEMA is looking for a regional officer for the Hastings area. We have someone in Brighton, but she has her hands full with that region — and she’s expecting a baby in January.’

‘This a paying position?’

‘Oh, of course! Not lavishly, I’ll admit — two guineas per week to start with, plus travel expenses.’

‘That isn’t too bad,’ Christopher considers. ‘If I can think of a likely candidate I’ll let you know.’

‘I’d be quite grateful for that.’

Modern as the flat may be, it has a hearth and a mantel, with a clock sitting atop the latter that now strikes the hour.

‘Charles promised to come home at a reasonable time today,’ Pamela notes. ‘Christopher, I ought to tell you that he left here this morning in — I was about to say “in a foul mood,” but “in a highly unsettled state” might be a better way of describing it.’

‘What about?’ her brother-in-law asks, trying and failing to picture this.

‘I don’t know! I can tell you what brought it on, though — a letter that arrived in the morning post. But I didn’t see it — not the letter itself, I mean — and Charles didn’t tell me what was it said. All I know is that it seemed to agitate him a good deal. He took it away with him. Well, when I say that I didn’t see it, what I mean is that I didn’t read it,’ she goes on. ‘Of course I didn’t. But I did see that it was typed — on rather better paper than one is accustomed to seeing nowadays, and that the paper was marked.’

Christopher smiles dimly.

‘I’m no longer with the police, Pamela,’ he reminds her.

‘Well, no. I know that, of course. But isn’t it interesting, nonetheless?’

‘Depends on what’s in it.’

When the door to the flat opens a few minutes later; Pamela excuses herself and goes into the hall to greet her husband. Foyle hears both of them saying his name, and Charles using the words apologise and upset. After a few moments the Howards return to the sitting room.

‘Christopher! Wonderful to see you! Thank you so very much for joining us,’ Charles begins, shaking his brother-in-law’s hand. ‘How was your journey up? We’ve been hearing the most terrible stories,’ he goes on. On the surface he’s the same as ever, but something has changed behind his kind eyes. Something has rattled him.

‘Oh, can’t complain,’ Christopher replies.

Charles asks after Andrew and – with a vagueness that seems almost deliberate, as though the subject were slightly too indelicate to bring up – enquires as to whether Christopher is keeping himself satisfactorily occupied these days. These subjects having been discussed, there is a short silence during which he looks first pensive, then determined.

‘Pamela tells me that she’s put you in the picture about my... well, my loss of an even keel this morning.’

‘Well, um, she told me that it occurred,’ Christopher replies.

‘Mm. There was a letter in the morning post that gave me quite a shock. As the day went on, though, it dawned on me that it concerns both of you as well,’ Charles continues, glancing at Pamela and then back to Christopher. ‘Please correct me if I’m wrong, Christopher, but I don’t believe that you ever met my brother – and of course I know that you never did, Pamela.’

‘Knew him only by reputation,’ Christopher affirms. Captain Nicholas Howard, 4th Battalion, Royal Surrey Regiment, had been killed in action on the first day of the Battle of the Somme and was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross.

‘Yes. Well. It seems that there was at least one thing about him that I didn’t know either.’ Charles falls silent again, looking perplexed. He reaches inside his jacket, brings out an envelope and removes its contents, which he offers to his wife and brother-in-law. ‘Perhaps it would be best if you both simply read this.’

He watches for a moment as Pamela and Christopher stand side by side, each holding an edge of the letter paper, taking in its contents. Then he looks out of a window.

KorrAsami Fanfiction

JK I’m not really Zuko

In honor of KorrAsami’s 6th Year Anniversary, I’m sharing a short unfinished fan-fiction I’ve been working on since finishing the series for the second time. 

I’m not sure how this moment fits within Turf Wars/Ruins, but I’m picturing this as not too long after Korra and Asami return from their Spirit World vacation (maybe right after the events of Turf Wars end?), where Asami and Korra decide to move in together.  Enjoy!

(I tried to fix the formatting but Tumblr is annoying)

----

"I thought you said you were going to get something quaint?" Korra said sarcastically as she excitedly bounded through the apartment.

Asami giggled sheepishly, "I guess quaint isn't quite the right word, huh? It is smaller than the Sato Mansion..."

“Are you kidding? This view is amazing!” Korra chuckled as she ran towards a large open glass door that lead to a balcony that wrapped around the front of the apartment. Her bright blue eyes glinted with the reflection in front in front of her.

Their new apartment had a sweeping view of Republic City’s Yue Bay. The late summer sunset’s pink rays glittering warmly on the gentle swells. In the far distance she could also see Kyoshi Bridge, and Air Temple Island. Just a bit closer, was her past self proudly staring back at the city, seemingly admiring his accomplishment. Korra couldn't help but wonder if that was still the case - she wished she could ask.

Korra’s eyes then fell upon the ruins left in the wake of Kuviras attack. Her hand absentmindedly found the back of her head, “Er - if you look past the destroyed parts…”

“Think of it as an opportunity to make things even better that before!” Asami said walking up behind Korra and placing her hands on her shoulders.

“I actually already have some ideas in mind that I have to share with Zhu Li,” Asami added. Her hand found her chin as she looked at the shambles in the distance, her brow furrowed. Korra could almost see the gears in Asami's head churning.

Before Asami found a reason to disappear in her office for a few hours Korra interrupted her machinations. “How long do you think we’ll stay here?"

Korra and Asami found that after their fateful vacation in the Spirit World, they now had a new need for privacy that they didn’t really have before. 

The White Lotus members on Air Temple Island were still dutifully protecting Korra on Tenzin and Tonraq’s orders despite Korra’s fervent objections. They argued that extra security couldn’t hurt.

Korra and Asami were able to sneak away from them for a few brief moments of alone time, but eventually they would see or hear a White Lotus member lurking nearby. Although Asami was able to laugh at these moments, Korra was growing increasingly frustrated and Asami felt sorry for the White Lotus members that were being constantly chewed out by her angry girlfriend. Not to mention that when Tenzin’s kids were around, they clung to Korra like elbow leeches.

Asami's childhood home was now home to Mako, Bolin and practically all their known relatives. A lot of them having a hard time finding jobs in the Republic City job market. Although Ba Sing Se was a large and unforgiving city, and Mako's family had it rough there too, Republic City was also a harsh place to thrive in; Asami didn't want to rush them while they figured things out.

But mostly she felt haunted by the ghosts of her father and mother in those hallways – particularly now after her father's recent and gruesome death. She wasn’t ready to go back there even if there was a spare room available somewhere on the estate.

Asami shook the painful loss of her parents out of her head before Korra noticed a change in her expression, "I think we may be here for a while," Asami smiled tentatively.  

Korra didn't say anything, instead gently smiling back and moving closer to Asami. She gave Asami a light but meaningful peck on the cheek and looked deeply into her eyes, "Anywhere can be home as long as I'm with you."

Asami was sure that Korra noticed Asami trying to hide those painful thoughts. Korra always seemed to notice these things, especially nowadays.

Asami grabbed Korra’s hands and smiled, "I love you." She kissed Korra. Every time they kissed it was electric. A lightning bolt coursed through her body.  

Korra too felt this rush of energy flowing through from the moment their lips made contact. She felt like her entire spirit was being undone. Like she could float away into the heavens if she wasn't tethered to the Earth by some force. By Asami.

Suddenly feeling vulnerable but at the same time electrified, Korra pulled away suddenly and bounded out the open glass door. For a second, Asami tensed up as Korra jumped and disappeared in a gust of wind. A few moments later she heard Korra from somewhere above the doorframe, "Wow this place is unbelievable!”

Asami sometimes forgot that despite Korra's appearance, as an airbender she was extremely light on her feet and capable of near flight, but Korra's recklessness and impulsivity still sometimes caught her by surprise.

Korra's head hilariously popped upside down from the top of the door frame. Her hair blowing upside down in the cool evening breeze. "Care to join me?" She asked extending an arm out for Asami to grab.

"You know we have stair-,” Asami was caught off-guard by the ease in which Korra, hanging upside down by a fixture using her legs, was able to pull her up and over the railings above their balcony. They both landed lightly on a small lush garden created by spirit vines.

"Yeah but this is more fun,” Korra said cheekily.

Thick green vines ran up and around the side of the building, creating a private yet open green space that was only accessible to their apartment. Asami picked this place knowing that Korra would love coming up here to meditate.

Asami and Korra spent a long moment sitting on the rooftop spirit garden watching the fading sunlight be replaced by the vibrant city lights. 

While some parts of the city were currently almost in complete darkness, illuminated only by the golden aura of the new Republic City spirit portal, other sections of the city seemed to be doing their best to carry on as normal. For this reason Korra felt hopeful for the future of Republic City.

Occasionally a friendly spirit would appear near them and say hello. One spirit sat with them for a while. It enthusiastically spoke of all the positive changes the opening of the spirit portals has brought to the world. This brought Korra some much needed comfort. It jovially waved goodbye as it faded away and promised to visit often.

Eventually Korra and Asami's conversations turned to silence. They wordlessly sat with their fingers loosely intertwined, listening only to the distant hustle and bustle noises of Republic City night life.

Their silence was not because of lack of topics, as the two lovers never ran out of things to talk about, but because both of them were wordlessly appreciating how wonderful this moment felt. How at peace they both felt. How perfectly balanced they now were.

A low grumble brought them back to reality. Asami's head turned towards Korra, who returned her amused look with the crooked smirk she loved.

"You heard that, huh?"

"You worked so hard moving all our stuff in today. You must be hungry," Asami said understandably.

"Starving, actually." Korra said rubbing her stomach looking forlorn. Korra was always ready to eat.

Asami and Korra decided to make their way back into the apartment. “So, what's for dinner?" Korra asked excitedly.

"I was thinking of this restaurant nearby that serves authentic Fire Nation food - how's that sound? I say we order in tonight."

"Perfect! I haven't had fire nation food since I met with Firelord Zuko before I—”, Korra trailed off, feeling embarrassed again.

"Before you took a much needed break to heal from all the trauma you've been through these past few years?" Asami cautiously joked. "I know it's hard, but I try to stop feeling guilty about that. You did what was best for you in that moment and that’s OK."

Korra smiled, "Thanks. I'm still struggling to come to peace with it all, but I’ll get there."

"Take all the time you need," Asami said gently. "But don't you dare leave me without any warning again! I WILL hunt you down, Avatar." She jokingly threatened, while pointing a finger at Korra.

Korra laughed, "Easy there, Sato! I swear I'm not going anywhere without you ever again."

---

Asami and Korra decided to change into more comfortable clothes while they waited for their food delivery. 

Once in sleepwear, they sat on the only available piece of furniture in the entire apartment: a bare mattress thrown onto the living room floor by Korra despite the movers offering to bring it up, as they were contracted to do.

Korra heavily dropped onto the mattress on her back and Asami joined her, lying across the mattress sideways and looking longingly at Korra.

Their eyes met. Korra heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure if Asami knew just how beautiful and alluring she was. Everything she did was unintentionally - or maybe in some cases somewhat intentionally - seductive.

 “So, ah- what should we do while we wait? We don’t even have a radio hooked up yet…” Korra noticed how the silky fabric of Asami's nightgown hugged her curves. She tried to control where and for how long her eyes wavered over Asami’s body.  

 “I don’t even know where my pai sho set is in all these boxes,” Asami said sitting up and looking around. 

They were surrounded by boxes and luggage, most of them belonging to Asami. Korra always knew that Asami had a lot of stuff, but this move made her realize that even more. It took Korra one trip to carry all her own possessions into the apartment from the moving truck. She lost count how long it took to get Asami's assortment of beauty supplies, clothes, gadgets, tools, paperwork, and other things upstairs.

 Asami then stretched over and across Korra’s body to look in an open box near her. Korra’s breath caught in her throat as she shamelessly studied Asami’s figure reaching over her.

Asami rummaged in the box for longer than necessary. At that point they both knew the pai sho set was not in that particular box. 

Korra noticed Asami’s cheeks were a bit red now. Her breath quickened. Make your move now, Avatar! Korra thought to herself.

Before Korra could act, Asami finally stopped looking through the box and turned to Korra, “It’s uh-it’s not there.” Her whole body flush and warm, and her eyes expectant.

Without any thought and without any hesitation, Korra sat up and hungrily kissed Asami.

“Stark’s New Intern” Chapter 20

"Welcome to your life There's no turning back Even while we sleep We will find you acting on your best behavior Turn your back on mother nature Everybody wants to rule the world

It's my own design It's my own remorse Help me to decide Help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world"

Tears For Fears – "Everybody Wants to Rule The World"

Erik watched Maria down a shot of tequila and squeeze a sliced lime into her mouth. He sipped on a glass of ginger beer and watched the festivities aboard Le Sirene, Stark's 456-foot-long custom-built yacht. Scalloped sides, silver and turquoise accents and large glass facades gave panoramic views inside the interior. Sailing off the coast of Malibu, the balmy air and fresh smell of seawater relaxed Erik.

Stark spared no expense to wine and dine the interns. Everyone around Erik were in various states of good humor, ecstatic thoughts of the future, and varying degrees of sobriety.

Athena accepted a job with a completely different company in Paris.

Giselle would start a mid-level position in Stark's New York offices.

Valentina accepted a generous package with Stark in Los Angeles under the thumb of Janine.

And Maria…she had two top Stark Industries choices. Stay in Los Angeles with Valentina, or take an opportunity to work for Stark in D.C.

Only fifteen percent of the interns were offered jobs with Stark. The fact that all off his female friends received the careers they worked so hard for pleased Erik to no end. He was also looking forward to being right next to Tony. As soon as Happy from security gave him his new clearance, Erik had access to offices and buildings within the Stark sphere of influence.

Once he was removed from the interns, Erik spent two weeks shadowing Pepper Potts. She informed him that she would guide his transition into more of a junior assistant role. Erik liked Pepper's directness. She wasn't a fun person to hang around. Her tight lips and tight ass personality hid a core rooted in needing to keep the world around her extremely organized. Erik recognized the signs of obsessive behavior. He had it too.

Pepper was easy to read and she seemed to be irritated with Erik's relaxed stance around Stark. She dug into him during a lunch meeting the two of them shared.

"You need to be the one to keep Tony grounded. He's really just a big kid in a candy store and even though he is brilliant, he is also very brash. Impulsive. The key to doing the job right is to keep the riff-raff away from him and make sure he stays focused on the task at hand. He doesn't need another sycophant. Everyone wants a piece of him, so don't be afraid to be rude or abrupt. You and I will be in direct contact and I will be in charge of your itinerary with Stark daily. Any changes that need to be made go through me first."

Pepper always regarded him with a bit of detachment and triple-checked his work often. After two weeks of realizing that Erik was more than capable of handling Tony as her junior, she let up a bit. Just a tiny bit. Erik had to adjust to how he would stomach those other looks she gave him. Looks that always made it seem like she pondered how he was in Tony's orbit. This Black kid with the genius I.Q. and Oakland attitude. So many overly pedigreed interns and Stark chose Erik above all of them. A guy not even out of his teens yet.

Erik also learned another little tidbit about Pepper.

She was annoyed with Devika.

Maybe not annoyed…more like jealous.

The two women maneuvered around each other professionally. But more than once, Erik caught Pepper giving Devika catty looks when she was in Stark's inner office. This piqued Erik's curiosity even more, making him want to know what type of relationship Devika really had with Tony. It made Erik's stomach hurt sometimes to think that his boss had been with his girl in that way.

His girl.

Erik's eyes swept over to the open bar on the yacht's third deck as Devika picked up a champagne flute and tipped the glass against one of the female interns next to her. Prior to coming on board the luxury boat, Erik spent the afternoon with Devika at a café looking for an apartment for him. A basic one-bedroom in a decent neighborhood close to work was averaging three thousand a month.

Money wasn't a problem. Stark made good and gifted Erik with a hefty players fee from the poker game. Erik sent portions of his winnings to his relatives and banked the rest. He could afford a fancy apartment or even a condo himself if he wanted. But spending the night with Devika made him want one thing: to be with her.

He whined to her about having to spend a grip of money in a hotel and hinted that he would look for a roommate situation to ease him into a new living situation. He already had his belongings in her apartment and they were now sharing a bed. He wanted to stay with her during his fellowship. But she was concerned about Tony finding out about them. He was too chickenshit to ask outright if he could live with her hoping she would suggest the idea herself. She didn't.

Erik watched Pepper approach Devika and as the two women spoke to one another, he moved to the other side searching for the man himself. Jazzy tunes were piped in throughout the yacht and Erik tried to go where he last saw Tony.

A wet kiss on his cheek caught him off guard and Giselle's face came into view as she slid around him.

"You're real quiet tonight. Everything okay?" she asked.

"I'm good. Just looking for Boss Man."

"I never got a chance to properly congratulate you on your fellowship. Stark was right about you. From Day One. You were the man to beat."

"You haven't done so bad yourself."

"New York, baby!" Giselle squealed. She closed her eyes and did a little happy dance, "They loved my work with the Expo and I was a good fit for his team out there. I am over the fucking moon. I am going to kill out there."

Her eyes glinted with endless possibilities and Erik caught a glimpse of Tony walking toward him.

"Stevens."

Giselle slipped away from him to join a raucous group dancing in an open space. Tony handed Erik a glass of champagne.

"You missed my grand going away speech," Tony said.

"No, I heard it. I was just up here. Taking it all in."

"This is just one of the many perks of doing what I do. Showing appreciation for everyone giving their best."

"Do you ever get bored with it? I mean, all this," Erik said glancing around at the grandeur and all the decadence.

"Not really. When I was younger, I used to get bored…not with the money, but with the same packs of roving cliques. Money is never boring. Rich people? Yes. Money? Never. I just learned how to spend my money well and surround myself with interesting characters."

Erik drank from his glass and Tony moved closer to him.

"Pepper says you are ready for the big leagues. It's going to be quite a shift from being an intern."

"I can handle it."

Erik followed Tony around the ship, and as the night progressed, he longed to be alone with Devika and just watch a corny movie. She flitted around, and the yearning grew in his heart. It was a new feeling for him. Wanting a one on one. Athena and Giselle were open to him having a goodbye tryst with them, but he wasn't interested, and that shocked him. Turning down exceptional pussy? An abomination in his previous life, but now…

The black sheath dress Devika wore shimmered with tiny crystals at the hem. And she wore the heels that he loved fucking her in. Her hair was tucked into a loose bun on her head and she decorated her forehead with three dark green bindis. He followed her to the starboard side of the yacht and her eyes looked startled to see him come upon her as she stared at the dark water below them.

"Hey," he said, allowing his shoulder to bump into hers.

"Hi."

"You look nice."

"Thanks," she said. Her eyes darted behind him to make sure they weren't being watched.

"I'm on my best behavior, don't trip," he said giving up a bit of space between them.

"I needed a little break from the action," she whispered, folding her hands on the railing she leaned on.

"Pepper and you have been chatty Cathy's."

Devika's eyes narrowed at the sound of Pepper's name.

"Devika, be honest with me. Did you and Tony-?"

"No."

Her tone was curt. But her eyes were soft.

"I didn't cross the line with him. Not all the way. I was…I was really young when I took this job. I was also really good at it. Tony took a shine to me, but it was just an excellent working relationship in the beginning. But shit happens. Late hours. Last-minute trips to exotic places. Billionaire crowd. Working for him is both surreal and astounding at times. The people that he has on speed dial? You would be shocked at who I have called up out of the blue for him."

She took a deep breath and exhaled.

"I had a huge crush on him and he has always been attracted to me. We've had dinners together that had nothing to do with work. There have been times when I could've allowed us to cross the line, and I didn't. Then I met my fiancé and my life changed. Pepper is in love with Tony, and she hates that he still feels something for me even though there is nothing between us."

She turned and looked at Erik.

"I had an emotional connection to Tony and I ended it for the sake of my career. My dignity too, I guess. I look at Tony as a boss and a friend. Pepper hasn't found a balance for her feelings, and we sometimes butt heads."

"Does he still want something with you?"

"I don't think so. He was happy when I first got engaged. Maybe it was a relief for him."

"Does he feel anything for Pepper?"

"I don't think so. She treats him like a child. It annoys him a lot. I think it's why he blows her off a lot. But she is good at what she does so he puts up with her scolding. What's it like for you working with her?"

Erik looked out at the water and gripped the railing with his hands.

"Annoying as fuck. But I'm used to people like her. She doesn't like that I'm not invested in the gig as much as she thinks I should be."

"If you're not invested, why do it? You should go to M.I.T."

Her words made his chest hurt.

"You don't want me around?"

"This has nothing to do with me. God, I hope you didn't take the job just to be around me."

She laughed but then stopped when his face stayed neutral.

"Erik, seriously, you took the job for your future career, right?"

"I have a lot of reasons to take it. You were part of it too."

"Oh…Erik…"

Her eyes dropped away from his.

"Devika…"

"You have to make life choices that benefit you and your dreams."

"I'm still figuring that out, but you're a big perk."

She reached out and rubbed his arm.

"You are so sweet."

"I'm not trying to be sweet, Devika. I'm tryna be your man."

The words not only shocked her, but they made him tumble back from the railing. The champagne had him loose-lipped. Too loose.

Her eyes regarded him with quiet understanding.

"So sweet," she said.

He watched her lean away from him as if she were leaving him. He grabbed for her hand and pulled her toward him.

"You heard what I said, right?" he asked.

"I did."

"You like me, right?"

"I do."

"I wanna be with you. Not just friends."

"We should slow down."

"What?"

His neck tilted to the side.

Hours earlier they had been in her bed and she had whispered crazy things in his ear that made him feel invincible and so grown up. Was she playing him for good dick?

Two weeks of sharing her home together, making him feel like they were a legit couple, and she was standing there telling him they should slow down. He tasted sour spit in his mouth and the muscles in his stomach felt tight.

"You need to focus all your energy on being the best you in your new position. Don't get caught up with me and lose track of your future."

"Caught up?"

He could barely get the words out of his throat. Her words sounded like she was patting him on his head like he was a cute puppy that she no longer wanted to play with. He felt his lower lip tremble and he stepped further away from her.

"Erik…"

"I gotta get back to Stark. I'll see you later."

He felt a little wobbly as he searched for Tony. Once he found him, he stayed by the man's side and finished the evening on his motorcycle by the pier the yacht was docked at. Instead of returning to Devika's condo, he took a room at a Hilton hotel and drank up the liquor inside the minibar.

His cell phone rang and when he checked it, Devika left several messages for him. He called her back at three in the morning after a good hour of sleep.

"Where are you?"

"A hotel. West Hollywood."

"Why?"

"Why? You told me not to get caught up—"

"Erik, you know what I meant."

"I heard what you said."

"Come back here."

"Why should I?"

"Let's talk—"

"We're talking now—"

"Get over here."

"Why?"

"I want you here. Your stuff is here."

"I'll get my stuff later."

"What I said to you earlier…I wasn't trying to be mean. I was being honest with you."

"I don't want to slow down."

He could hear an exasperated sigh in her voice.

"Erik, I'm trying to make you see what I wish someone had told me when I was younger. I'm not trying to hurt you."

"I want to be with you. We get along. You know that. Tony won't find out about us—"

"We need to talk in person—"

"It's late. I'll come over when I check out."

He hung up.

Lying on the hotel bed nude, he stared at the walls.

An hour ticked by.

"Fuck."

He jumped up and put back on his silk shirt and slacks. Throwing on his dark biker's jacket and helmet, he hopped on his motorcycle and roared out of the hotel parking lot.

The highway was quiet as the sky lightened. When he reached Devika's condo, the pink and orange morning glow made him feel easier in the chest.

She answered the door after his third knock dressed in one of his sweatshirts and nothing else.

"Let's talk," he said.

She nodded and he leaned forward to kiss her lips. Her mouth was eager to have his and they took their time with slow drawn out smooching in the doorway. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Suckling his tongue, Devika made him feel that what he needed most was for her to be in his corner. He held onto her ass cheeks to keep her pressed against him, and when she finally released his lips, he had her panting. He slipped a finger down her ass and let it rest against the cotton of her underwear. He could feel how damp she was, her slick saturating the panties. He rested his forehead on hers.

"Tell me your mine," he whispered.

She traced the fingers of her right hand across the back of his scalp sending tingles up his back. His lips touched her lips again and he looked into her eyes.

"Tell me," he demanded.

He walked into her condo with her still wrapped around him and kicked the door closed.

"I'm your man. Say it."

The bass in his voice made her eyes widen. He sent his fingers down into her panties and stroked her swollen vulva.

"Devika, say it…."

He unfastened his pants and pulled them down with his underwear.

"Devika."

Sliding her sticky panties to the side, Erik lifted her up and guided his dick inside of her. She whimpered as he fucked her standing up, her face pressed against his face, her arms laced around his neck.

The squelching sounds coming from her pussy made Erik give her hard strokes as he lifted her up and down his stiffness. She still wouldn't answer him and just gave his ears thrilling moans and yelps from the pleasure he gave her.

His calves began to strain from standing in one place and holding her weight so he spun around and jammed her up against the door. Pressing her into the solid wood, he drilled into her hard and fast, his aggression needing release. She refused to give him what he wanted and it aggravated him.

"Devika…"

"Erik!" she screamed.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and he felt her pussy contract up and down his dick. He reached up and grabbed her throat, his fingers squeezing and pushing her head back. The throbbing in his dick made his back hunch up.

"I want you!" he shouted releasing into her, his head dropping onto her chest as his legs trembled.

He groaned when he felt another sudden wave of semen spurt into her and it made him drop her down to her feet. He faced her with wrinkled clothes and semen still dripping from his tip. He kicked his feet out of his pants and Devika took his right hand and led him to her bedroom.

They made love until Erik was too exhausted to do anything more than stroke her hair as he held her in his arms.

The unspoken was made manifest.

He was going to live with her and she let be known by her loving that she belonged to him.

The world at that moment was his.

Chapter 21 HERE.

###

Tag List:

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Little Changes

Title: Little Changes

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Allie Thompson (OFC)

Genre: romance/angst

Rating: G

Summary:  Everything in her life had changed so suddenly. One moment she was trying to juggle her work life with the long distance strain of a still very new and tentative relationship. The next she was sitting in the bathroom staring blankly at a small pink plus sign and trying to remember how to breathe. Panic had been one of the first things that registered. Things with Tom were still so new. So tentative. They’d been together barely seven months. Too soon. Way, way too soon.

Authors Notes/Warnings: This was written for @redfoxwritesstuff 500 follower writing challenge. My prompt was “I’m pregnant.” I set out initially thinking I’d run this prompt with Tom and Cath from Brave Face but the more I thought on it, the more I realized it would be the perfect opportunity to revisit Tom and Allie from my fic for @babylevines 4k challenge Perfectly Imperfect. I always intended on coming back to these two and this challenge felt like the perfect opportunity. A great big shout out to @nonsensicalobsessions who was my second set of eyes on this fic and my sounding board. You’ve been such an amazing help and I cannot thank you enough!

Tag list: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77 @theheartofpenelope @blacksuitofdoom @wolfsmom1 @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @just-the-hiddles​ @theoneanna​ @hiddlescastle​ @nonsensicalobsessions​  @echantedbytwh @alexakeyloveloki @sabine-leo

Allie Thompson felt the strap of her carryon bag dig into the palm of her hand as she let her eyes roam over the customs hall at JFK. The large room was filled nearly to the brim with tired, bored, and antsy people, all waiting in a queue that seemed never ending. She cursed herself yet again for not buying a rolling carryon. Never thought you’d need it, did you, Thompson?

 The trip had been impulsive. Stupidly, recklessly impulsive. Allie had to keep reassuring herself that she was only taking up Tom’s offer to have her come and see him (and the city). In the nearly two months since he’d come New York he’d tried everything he could seemingly think of to convince Allie to throw caution to the wind and stay with him, if only for a short while. And each and every time she’d turned him down. Not out of a lack of desire (she missed him far more than she was willing to admit to anyone least of all herself), but for various (and frustratingly valid as far as she was concerned) reasons. The office was short staffed, she’d just gotten a promotion at work and asking for the time off wouldn’t reflect well on her next appraisal, the flight was more than she could afford at the time (despite saving up what she could out of each pay).

 Tom had offered, repeatedly, to let him pay her airfare and each time Allie told him she couldn’t accept. It was pride more than anything which kept her from doing so, they both knew it, but more than that, she didn’t feel right having him spend money on her. Not that much. Not when she couldn’t repay him for such generosity. It didn’t feel right, taking his money no matter how freely he seemed to offer it. Allie knew that Tom suspected that was a large part of her refusal and hadn’t fought her on it. At least not as much as she knew he wanted to; she could hear it plainly in his voice each time they spoke.

 Now here she was, standing in this stupidly long queue wondering for the thousandth time if she was making a horrid mistake in coming. Her back twinged irritatingly and she rocked herself back and forth on the balls of her feet hoping to ease some of the tension. Why hadn’t she thought to throw her heating pad into her bag before she’d left? Thank god she hadn’t gotten sick on the plane; the frequent nausea and vomiting that had taken over her life in the last few weeks had been bad enough in the privacy of her flat or the toilets at work. On a speeding metal tube in what felt like a coffin...The idea didn’t bear thinking.

 Everything in her life had changed so suddenly. One moment she was trying to juggle her work life with the long distance strain of a still very new and tentative relationship. The next she was sitting in the bathroom staring blankly at a small pink plus sign and trying to remember how to breathe. Panic had been one of the first things that registered. Things with Tom were still so new. So tentative. They’d been together barely seven months. Too soon. Way, way too soon.

 The next thing she’d done once the shock and panic had worn off was call the local family clinic and book an appointment for bloodwork and the necessary testing. Before she brought Tom’s world to a halt, she had to be certain it wasn’t a fluke. They’d been able to fit her in the following day, for which she’d been grateful. Her manager had let her have the morning off after commenting she’d looked a bit peaky regardless.

 Sitting on the crinkled paper that covered the cushioned exam table, Allie felt her stomach roil. She’d only half listened to the information the doctor discussed with her; taking in that she was indeed pregnant and a little over three months gone. She’d taken the paper the doctor had handed her along with the packet of vitamins with shaking hands. This was real. It was happening and even with the paperwork in hand Allie still couldn’t make sense of it.

 With an air of calm which she didn’t fully feel, Allie had made her way home and grabbed the luggage she’d bought for a holiday she’d taken with friends years back and packed the first pieces of clothing her hands touched. She wasn’t sure when she’d made the conscious decision to tell him in person (this wasn’t something she felt could be done over the phone no matter how she feared the potential outcome) but somewhere between her leaving the clinic and walking up the stairs to her flat, she’d known.  

 The phone call to Luke hadn’t been as awkward as she’d feared. They’d met a few times and had gotten on well enough. He’d been quite up front with her about the realities of being in a relationship with someone like Tom and made sure she understood more or less what she was potentially getting herself into. With the same breath he welcomed her to the madness. She found she liked his frankness and how he clearly cared for Tom not just as a client but as a friend. Luke had been all too eager to help her arrange her impromptu trip, making sure Tom’s people in New York were aware of her pending arrival. She’d asked him to make sure Tom didn’t know she was coming. Luke had laughed, “This is going to be such a fantastic surprise for him, you don’t want to know how much he’s been whinging about missing you.”

 Allie had laughed along with Luke, ignoring the twisting in her gut. It would certainly be a surprise but she hadn’t a clue if either Tom or Luke (when push came to shove, Luke would need to be told and that was nearly as terrifying as telling Tom) would consider it a good one. Pushing those thoughts aside she’d booked a nonstop flight from Heathrow to JFK and cleared the week she’d need with her boss (which hadn’t been the most pleasant conversation).

 The flight had thankfully been uneventful though she’d hardly slept the entire way. And not for lack of trying. Her mind wouldn’t seem to shut off, playing over and over again the various (and most often unpleasant) reaction awaiting her in New York. The lack of sleep was something she was most certainly paying for now. God, what she wouldn’t give for a hot shower and sleep. But that she feared would not be for a long while yet.

 What felt like hours later, Allie found herself at the front of the queue handing her passport to the stony-faced customs agent and answering the questions asked of her. Who was she here to see? Her boyfriend (the word still felt odd) who was working in the States. How long would she be staying? Maybe a week. She waited with baited breath as the agent looked first at her, then at the passport before stamping it and handing it back to her with a monotone,  “Welcome to New York.”

 Stamped passport in hand, she made her way towards the baggage claim. Once she’d grabbed her rolling case (and made a mad dash for the nearest toilet, the nausea had decided now would be a spectacular time to make its reappearance. Thank god she’d kept the amenity kit in her purse so she could clean her teeth after), Allie made her way into the arrivals hall proper and scanned the crowd. Luke had insisted on setting up transport from the airport to Tom’s temporary dwelling and despite a string of protests refused to budge on the issue. The man was just as, if not more, stubborn than Tom and fighting him on anything was nothing short of an exercise in futility.

 She spotted a tall man dressed in a pair dark trousers, matching jacket, and white button-up shirt holding a sign bearing her name standing towards the back of the waiting crowd. He smiled politely at her as she approached and offered to take her bags. Allie thought for a moment of protesting but banished the thought almost at once. The man (whose name was Frank, she’d learned later) was simply doing his job and she had no right to make it difficult for him to do so (even if she was quiet capable of wrangling her own baggage). Quietly, the pair made their way from the noisy hall and out into the bright sunlight of the afternoon. She was ushered into the waiting black SUV as Frank took her luggage round the back and placed it in the boot.

 The car was quite nice, Allie noted with a tired sigh as she settled herself onto the supple leather of the backseat. Far nicer than the battered Nissan Micra she had back home; a holdover from her university days that she’s scrimped and saved for. It wasn’t much to look at but it was reliable and that was honestly all that mattered. She hardly used it anyhow, mainly just when she left the city to visit family or simply escape from the hustle and bustle of it all. She rested her head back against the smooth headrest and allowed her eyes to flutter closed. God, she was tired. Just a few moments, she told herself. I’ll just rest my eyes for a few moments.

 Allie jolted awake at the feel of a hand on her shoulder. Blinking in confusion, she let her gaze roam over her surroundings; the dimly lit interior of an SUV and the sounds of a city echoing from its opened door. New York, her brain finally chimed in. I’m in New York. Tom. And just like that she was suddenly awake. The familiar nerves roared to life once more as just why she’d come flooded back into her conscious thoughts.

 “Sorry,” she murmured to Frank who’d gotten out of the car and come around to wake her. “I must have dozed off.”

 “It’s fine,” he answered with a knowing smile, “You looked like you needed it.”

 Allie nodded quietly and slid from the backseat out onto the pavement. Her eyes drifted upwards, taking in the buildings surrounding them. She’d seen New York countless times in films and on television but it was quite odd actually being there. The building they’d parked beside was massively tall, covered in faded tan brick, painted brick she noted on closer inspection. The glass door reflected the bright sunlight, obscuring her view inside. Smiling softly, she took the handle of her bag, which Frank had placed beside her and took a deep breath before following him inside.

 She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the lobby. The wheels of her checked bag echoed as they rolled across the tiled floor towards the lifts at the far end of the hall. The wall beside the door lined with several metal letter boxes each labeled with what Allie assumed were flat numbers. She’d known from her various calls with Tom that rather than staying in a hotel for the duration of the play, he’d opted at renting a furnished flat in a building close enough to the theater to be walkable but far enough away that it hopefully would be off of most enthusiastic fans radars. While a hotel would be more convenient in terms of cleaning and meals (there was certainly something to be said about room service, he’d confessed), having his own space and privacy won out. And she was eternally grateful for that now. Especially if things ended badly. Less prying eyes and whispered voices in a private dwelling. More of a chance she could make a quiet, dignified retreat if needed.

 Shaking the negative thoughts away, Allie followed Frank into the lift. They arrived on the tenth floor moments later and she allowed him to lead the way towards a darkly stained wooden door at the end of the hall. Frank pulled a key from his pocket and made swift work of the lock, pushing the door open. Sunlight poured in through the opened curtains, flooding the flat with bright light. He stood aside to let her enter, handing her the key as she passed.

 “This is yours for the time being. He should be back sometime in the next hour or so. Make yourself at home.” He smiled and took his leave.

 Allie closed the door firmly behind him, locked it, and leant back against it, taking a deep breath. She was here and now all she could do was wait for his return. With effort, she pushed herself up and allowed herself to glance around the flat’s open planned living room stroke kitchen. It was minimally, but comfortably, furnished with richly stained wooden tables and an inviting black fabric couch. Books lined the coffee and side tables and pendant lighting hung down from the ceiling. The room wasn’t terribly tidy; there were a pair of trainers laying haphazardly on their side near the short hallway which she assumed led on to the sleeping area and bathroom and various bits and bobs scattered over the backs of chairs. Several toys she recognized as Bobby’s lay strewn across the wooden floor.

 The kitchen was small, but functional. Bright white uppers paired with darker base cabinets and a neutral stone countertop. There was a stainless steel gas range with a matching microwave above and a large fridge beside it. The sink was deep and stainless steel as well. A coffee press and toaster were arranged against the back of the counter alongside a small electric kettle. Allie chuckled softly to herself as her eyes lingered on the bowl and mug left sitting on the counter next to the sink.

 Leaving her bags tucked beside the couch, Allie made her way into the kitchen and set to tidying up. It was silly, and something she knew she absolutely did not need to do, but it gave her something to do with her hands and seemed to quiet the small, nagging voice of doubt in her head. She cleaned when she felt anxious or uneasy; Allie couldn’t say why other than it gave her something she could have control over. Tom seemed to find it amusing, stating he knew when something was up by how spotless her place was…And sometimes by how spotless his was.

 Allie let out a quiet groan; Tom would know in an instant something wasn’t quite right, even through the shock of her surprise arrival. Even distracted, Tom was sharp when it came to detail. It was part of what made him so damned good at his chosen field. However, there was nothing to do for it now. Setting to work, Allie grabbed the plate and mug, placing them in the sink and turning on the hot tap. She had to rummage to find the washing up liquid and a sponge; how it had managed to get wedged in the very back of the cupboard under the sink she’d never understand. From there she let herself get lost in the heat of the water and the repetitiveness of the task.

 Once the dishes were cleaned and put away, she forced herself to walk back into the living room and settle on the couch. Ignoring the temptation to straighten, if only for its ability to help her keep hold of her nerves, Allie forced herself instead to pick up the remote from the top off the darkly stained wooden coffee table and turn on the television. There wasn’t a great deal to choose from, which wasn’t surprising given it was early afternoon in the middle of the week, a handful of daytime chat shows and several daytime dramas. Sighing, she settled on one of the chat shows not caring overmuch what was happening on screen. She half listened as the women settled around a table chatting about the latest bit of celebrity news, her eyes drifting shut once more. Gods above, she was tired.

 The sound of a key turning in the lock jolted Allie awake. She sat bolt upright on the couch, blinking rapidly at the disorientation before, and quickly switched off the television, dropping the remote back onto the table. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the door. Through the thick wood she could hear Bobby’s muffled barks and the soothing timbre of Tom’s voice in response. She felt her heart hammering in her chest as she watched the knob turn and the door push slowly open.

 A blur of brown swept into the apartment, loud barks echoing as the spaniel darted inside and towards Allie. He buried his face into her knees before bouncing up and attempting to bury her face in kisses.

 Startled, Tom rushed in yelling, “What in the world…” His voice trailed off as his eyes settled on Allie laughing and squirming on the couch beneath an overly excited Bobby.

 Pushing the spaniel off, Allie locked her eyes on Tom’s wide, startled gaze. “Hi,” she whispered, pushing her hair out of her face to see him clearly.

 “You’re here,” Tom breathed, taking several slow steps into the flat, letting the door swing closed behind him. “You’re actually here.”

 Allie nodded. “I’m here.”

 Tom dropped the bag he’d been carrying on his shoulder to the floor and launched himself at her, a wide smile on his face. With a yelp of startlement, Allie fell backwards onto the couch, Tom’s warm weight pressing her firmly into the cushions. She let out a breathless laugh as she found herself wrapped tightly in his arms. He pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips. Bobby, who’d backed quickly out of the way as his master seemed to take leave of his senses, barked happily before jumping up beside them on the couch and licking both of their faces.

 Pulling back and laughing, Tom shooed the spaniel away. “Enough you furry menace. Off the couch.”  

 Bobby blinked up at Tom before complying with begrudging grace and padding to his own doggy bed. He grabbed the red, stuffed toy that lay beside the bed and chewed it while watching them with wide, sad eyes.

 Tom shook his head, pulling himself up into a sitting position and turned his attention immediately back towards Allie who did the same. “I can’t believe you’re actually here. When did you…Why didn’t you say you were coming?”

 Allie pulled back, feeling the familiar dread cooling once more in her stomach. She crossed her arms in front of her. “It was kind of a last minute thing,” she answered, honestly. “I called Luke and…”

 Tom let out a short, loud laugh and shook his head. “No wonder the wanker looked so smug this morning…He knew you’d be here.”

 She shrugged. “I asked him not to say anything.”

 “And he certainly didn’t,” Tom laughed. “I hadn’t the faintest idea.” He pulled Allie tightly against him and kissed her head once more. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he repeated again and she could feel his smile against her hair. “I’ve missed you.”

 “I missed you too.”

 And she had, desperately. It felt wonderful, being in his arms again. The comforting heat and weight of him against her was like coming home. It scared her, just how much this man had come to mean to her in such a relatively short amount of time. And now…

 Reluctantly, Allie pulled back reaching up to take Tom’s hands in her own. It was tempting, sorely tempting to say nothing…Just for a little while. To bask in the simple joy of being back with the man she loved. However, she knew it would only be delaying the inevitable. He needed to know, whatever the outcome. Any delaying techniques would be just that, it wouldn’t fix or change anything.

 Tom met her eyes, confusion shining steadily in his own at her second disengagement in just as many minutes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

 Allie swallowed against the lump in her throat. She’d spent most of the flight over thinking of just what to say; how to tell him that in a few short months there would be another person in their lives. Over and over again, she had agonized over her wording, her timing, his reaction. All of it. And it wasn’t as if she feared he’d lose it completely and chuck her out, she’d known Tom well enough to understand he wouldn’t do something like that, but that didn’t mean he’d embrace the news with open arms.

 The timing was terrible; he had projects lined up well into the following year. How could he possibly juggle the demands of impending fatherhood when he’d barely be around? How could she ask him to? They’d only been together seven months, and the last two of those there had been an ocean between them. There we so many reasons for this to be the thing that would sink them; Allie knew that. Having a baby didn’t guarantee a successful relationship or a relationship in general. Tom could very easily walk away, she didn’t think he would deny the child, but he could choose to minimize his presence in their lives. And while Allie knew she could, and would, handle raising this child on her own if she had to, it wasn’t ideal. She wanted Tom to be involved, to be beside her through it all. The ball was ever so firmly in his court with this and it terrified her.

 “Allie,” Tom pleaded, reaching down to take her hand and squeezing her hands with his own. “Talk to me, please. Whatever it is we’ll mange it. Talk to me.”

 He sounded so sure, so confident, and she wanted nothing more than to believe him. But the fear was still there, still clinging to her like a second skin.

 She swallowed hard, shutting her eyes tightly before raising them to his once more. “I’m pregnant.”

 The words fell from her lips in almost a whisper. Had it not been for the way his eyes widened at the words or his slackened grip, Allie could have convinced herself he hadn’t heard them. She pulled her hands back into her lap and fought the urge to stare down at them rather than at Tom.

 “You’re pregnant?” Tom whispered, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. A silence, which felt as if it were choking the life from her. His words did little to calm the racing of her heart. The tone of them wasn’t censorious nor were they exactly welcoming. Unease and disappoint roared within her.  

 Allie nodded, not trusting her voice.

 “Pregnant,” he murmured again, as if he were trying to make sense of it. Another long pause before he uttered, “How far?”

 Her eyes fell from his.

 “A little over three months,” she answered, “according to the scans.” Her hand rested unconsciously against her abdomen and she could feel his eyes on her. She couldn’t raise her own to meet them. She didn’t want to see the disapproval or disappointment in them. Too soon. This is all too soon.

 “So just before…” His voice trailed off.

 The last few weeks before he’d headed to New York had been filled with stolen moments. At his place. At hers. There had been something to the idea that it could be months before she would get to touch him, to feel him, that had driven Allie (and Tom it seemed) to what felt like desperation. They’d been careful, or so she’d thought. Clearly they hadn’t been careful enough. She wondered idly just when they’d slipped up and if he was wondering as well.

 Allie nodded. “Yes.”

 Tom ran a hand through his shaggy hair but didn’t say anything further. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “The timing is horrendous, I know. And I get that it’s way too soon and neither of us are ready for this…” She was rambling and she knew it but the need to explain was overwhelming her ability to think and speak rationally. “You don’t have to be involved, I won’t think ill of you for not…”

 Tom’s hand rested firmly on her knee, silencing her. He took a slow, deep breath before speaking. “Do you want this?”

 She blinked at him, the words not making any sort of sense to her already sleep-starved, panicked mind. “Wha-what?” She stammered back, confusion coloring her tone, “I don’t know what…”

 He squeezed her knee with a firm gentleness she hadn’t expected. “Having a baby is a big thing,” he started, his eyes locked on her face as if he were studying her. “It’s life changing. For you more than anything. Yes, the timing isn’t ideal for either of us. And I know that you’re scared of what I’m thinking and feeling. But Allie…I don’t want you to worry about what you think I want or what anyone else will say. This is, first and foremost, your life and as such it is your choice. I will respect whatever it is you want. So please tell me,” Tom locked his eyes on hers. “Allie, do you want this?”

 A million different thoughts flooded through her mind. She was scared; scared she wasn’t ready, scared she’d be a crap mum, scared he’d walk away and she’d be left alone. But along with that fear was the small, bright, stubborn fragment of hope. She wanted this baby, wanted Tom to want it too. Even though this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Sense, it seemed, mattered not. She wanted this. Wanted it fiercely.

 Wordlessly, she nodded.

 Tom’s face split into a warm, bright smile and he reached out, placing his hand gently against the, as of yet, non-existent curve of her abdomen. “We’re having a baby.”

 Allie laughed, feeling her eyes prickle with relieved tears. “We are.”

 “Oh god,” Tom breathed, his voice breaking with soft laughter, “Luke is going to murder me.”

pose || jimin x reader

When the opportunity presented itself there was no way you were going to let it go, only 10 days to make a boy fall in love, It must have been easy, but you let yourself be carried away by your feelings, and nobody should risk their heart to the ones who are addicted to play with it. Love disguises itself in many ways and it hurts when you find out it was all a lie.

pairing: fuckboy! jimin x reader!

word count: 2.3K

genre: Fluff, slight angst, light smut, how to loose a guy in 10 days AU

warnings: Alcohol use, sex references, slow burn, swearing. Everybody it's kinda lying. That's pretty much it.

A / N: inspired by the movie How to loose a guy in 10 days. First work here so please be nice guys :(. It's a two people work. Edited work.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

PART 1

DAY 1

While you are walking towards Heiryung's office, your heart pounds faster with every step. This is where it ends, this is where you lose everything you care about. You wish everything would have been different, but he didn't even care, he stopped caring the moment you walked out the door. Maybe it would have worked in another life, in a different situation where your dream wasn't to be a writer or maybe if you weren't fucking liars.

DAY 12

'You always manage to surprise me girls, great job' says our boss as she places down the newest article Hyunjae and you wrote for this number's issue.

It's always like this, coming into this office to show your boss the latest results of the work you've done, she sees it, makes some simple compliments and then a new task is given. It was kinda easy, but it would be even easier if your coworkers didn't ask for favors, correcting Hyunjae's mistakes was more than enough work.

You watch how HyunJae smiles every time HeiRyung makes a complement, filling her ego way more than it already is, she wants more of it, she lives for it. Always wanting to be the center of attention.

'Great choice on the topic, I like to see that you work well together.' continued Heiryung. You hold back a laughter after that comment, Hyunjae can do anything except work as a team, always comes up with the dumbest ideas, that's how you end up doing all the work, when if you try to do something on her own, ends up stealing your ideas just to get the credit for it, never whiling to use the brain. She's used to it, used to people who do things for her.

'We do work good together, don't you think?' asks Hyunjae now looking at you with a grin in her face.

'Of course! I love when you come up with new ideas and actually take part in the writing. She's quite exceptional, don't you think Heiryung? ' your tone is sarcastic and Heiryung noticed it. HyunJae tenses after your words. Thought you where the one with the brains , you say to yourself. Heiryung's smile widened confirming your suspicions.

'It's a shame that once you graduate I won't be able to have you as part of the team' Heiryung finally spoke. She has that cocky tone in her voice, the one that says she is about to throw a bomb.

'How come?' Hyunjae is harsh in her tone. Always asking stuff like she wants to know. She thinks it makes her look interesting. You think it makes her look really desperate for attention.

'You guys have a contract for 6 months, enough time for you to do your internship and then be able to spread your wings and find “something” better' answers making a gesture of quotation marks with her fingers to emphasize the word. She knows there's nothing better, even you know there's nothing better. She smiles back like she could hear your thoughts. But it's true, you're lucky enough to be interns in one of the most respected and popular fashion magazines in Korea and the world.

'Unless…' she continues raising one of her eyebrows with a sarcastic voice.

'Unless what?…' Interrupts HyunJae.

'Unless you are down for a little friendly competition' finishes with that evil smile that hasn't been erased from her face since she thought of that idea.

'What kind of competition?' she knows she caught your attention, you're intrigued to know what's going inside her head.

'The kind where one of you ends with a job here at Pose.' your breath cuts a little. You don't know if you heard her correctly or if she's joking. 'It's easy, you just need to write an article' she says with a smirk 'An article interesting enough to be published obviously' she takes a sip of her coffee while looking at both of you with a funny expression.

'So we won't be working together?' You ask.

`Well honey, it wouldn't be a competition if you worked together, right? ' As you watched Heryung's mug slowly descend to its destination, you started to feel like you were dissociating from the real world.

This was it. This is the opportunity you have waited for since you started the internship at the magazine. This job had to be yours, you deserved it.

'I'm down' says HyunJae taking you out of your thoughts 'It would be easy, don't you think?' She asks turning her head to look at you with a fake smile. You smile at her the same way and then look away to roll your eyes, you really hated her fake personality.

Her intentions were clear as always, make you angry, it seems that she lived for it, she agreed knowing how you would feel. You know for a fact she doesn't really like working a the magazine. You've heard her complain too many times.

'It would be great to see what we can do by ourselves, right? Without being a team 'You respond to let her know that you won't be bothered by her comment so easily.

'Excellent' claps HeiRyung jumping out of her chair 'The article must be on my desk before our next meeting regarding the next number's issue'  

'The next meeting?' concern is heard in Hyunjae's question.

'That makes it 10 days from tomorrow' 'you say without believing it, that's not enough time.

'Yes, a good journalist should be able to work under pressure and with a short deadline. Besides, that's more than enough time for writing an article, plus the magazines gets printed in 11 days' she smirks, you look at Hyunjae who hasn't said anything else, is she okay with this? It didn't sound like that a moment ago, why she isn't complaining? 'Okay, so that's it, get out' Heiryung makes a gesture with her hands indicating us to leave the office as she turns her back on us.

On the way back to the cubicles, thousands of thoughts and ideas came to your mind, but none convinced you, the pressure starts to rise, your shoulders start to hurt as you feel an imaginary burden on them, this wasn't a good sign .

The rest of the day feels like you've been in automatic mode. It wasn't easy to focus on what you were supposed to do, your coworkers have had to call your name several times to get your attention, Hyunjae included. She does it one more time at the end of the shift to remind you it's time to go, thoughts absorbing your time without you even realizing it.

'What are you going to write about?' Hyunjae asks while entering the elevator.

'I still don't know, I've been thinking about it ever since we left Hieryung'a office, but I still haven't decided' you answer not really wanting to. HyunJae keeps talking, while you finally decide to check your cell phone after the whole day. Just a message from your roommate appears in the notifications.

'Why are you asking though? Are you trying to be polite this time instead if staling my notes? ' you ask after putting away the cellphone so your attention would be in Hyunjae. She tries to defend herself but you interrupt by telling her not to bother making lame excuses, she closes her mouth as fast as she opened it.

As soon as you hit the lobby, you hurry to get to the bus station as fast as you could. You still had a couple of minutes before the last bus headed and calling a cab was a luxury that you couldn't really afford at the moment with a short deadline to pay rent and the amount of money you get from the internship wasn't really enough to cover every necessity you had.

If you get the job that could change. Maybe you could move to a place near work so it could be easier for you to get there. Possibilities where infinite, just as the ideas that you get for the article, but none of them seems good enough. There's something missing in every idea and it doesn't fit your expectations.

Once you get into the bus, with a little bit of luck and the power of your legs, you feel your phone vibrate again in your purse and as you check it, you see one more message form Nayeon.

Oh no, it happened again. Another break up.

You've know Nayeon for three years now, meeting her for the first time when she was assigned to you as your dorm roommate back when you lived there. Everything about her seemed nice in the moment, that's what impulsed both of you to be friends, developing more a sisterhood than a friendship, taking you both to the idea of ​​liveing ​​together after your first semester and also because you were tired of the small space , the annoying dorm neighbors, the leaks, and the 'oh my gosh, is that a bug on your clothes?!?!'

Being friends with Nayeon was fun, and in this past three years you've been dealing with her and her breakups, happening over and over again. It's not that she wasn't a good girl, the thing is that she gets clingy and needy, making guys run away from her when she starts doing crazy things for them.

By now, you're sure you've heard every case scenario possible in Nayeon's love life when it gets to guys dumb excuses to ditch her. Dudes are garbage mostly, some of them are cool but they always sendup with 'I am not really looking for a serious relationship right now, you know?'. Your favorite so far? 'You seem like a good girl and… you know, I think I'm not what you're looking for… what you need right now too' fucking asshole…

There's only one constant in NaYeons breakups. You. And a couple liters of ice cream or beers sometimes. This time you bring home both from the pit stop you did at the convenience store before you got to the apartment, just in case it's really bad.

In the moment you cross the door and make your presence notice announcing you've arrived, she comes out of her room, with a puffy face and red eyes. When she notices your presence she runs to hug you, you stumble a little before falling into the couch.

As you place the breakup kit on the coffee table of the living room, she begins to tell you everything in detail. This time he wants to concentrate on his carrier and his studies and he can't do it while he's dating Nayeon, he can't give her all the attention she deserves because of that, and doesn't think is fair for her. This guy is really something. You can't believe it. It's a new excuse tho , you make a mental note to yourself

'But I really know why he broke up with me' she sniffed before continuing 'it's because I'm fat' and she broke in tears for the twelfth time.

'Oh my God. Nayeon, you are everything but fat, he didn't dumped you because of that or that lame excuse' You said exploding 'It was because you don't know where to stop, how many days did you date him ? '

'7 days…?' She answered while hiding behind a cushion. 'But I know he loved me, I mean he never said it, but I knew it' she continued while you looked at her intertwine hands 'the first time we had sex I was so happy and excited that I started crying'.

'Please tell me you didn't' says you, covering your face with both of your hands.  

'I also told him I loved him' You gazed at her quickly not believing what she just said.

'Are you kidding me right now?' You looked at the ceiling with frustration 'That's the kind of behaviors that makes guys run away from you Nayeon. I'm telling you this because I love you and I want you to see that boys don't hate you. You sabotage yourself and you don't even realize '

She kept on playing with her hands. This is how every breakup session would end, you trying to make her get into her senses, then a romantic movie until she falls asleep. Her situation always gots you thinking. Maybe if she had some kind of manual or a perfect recipe or even a list of “ what not to do when you date a guy ” maybe that way ...

'Oh meu deus!' You screamed scaring Nayeon 'I finally have the perfect idea for my article!' You jumped out of the couch.

'What article are you talking about?' Nayeon was really confused.

'You know how I'm doing my internship at Pose magazine? Well my boss just gave us the opportunity to be officially part of the team, there's only one place and whoever writes the best article in 10 days between HyunJae and I, it's going to get it! ' excitement is running thru you veins as you speak, Nayeon could see it your eyes, that was exactly the way you move and talk when you're passionate about something or excited.  

'That's great!' says Nayeon 'What's it going to be about? Do you have a title? '

' How to lose a guy in 10 days ' You answered looking nowhere' I would find a guy to date and I would make every mistakes women do when dating a guy. With that I can show the girls in situations similar to yours, what not to do! '

This was just perfect, the perfect topic for the article that could make you win. This could be the beginning of your career as a journalist.

'That is actually an excellent idea, this could help many girls, including me' said Nayeon with a big smile 'I hope you get that job' she comes close and embraces you in a little hug.

Now, you just needed a guy ...

And it was not going to be an easy task.

PART 2->

Change of Plans - Part 2

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (An It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe AU, set nearly 3 years after that epilogue)

Word Count: ~3500

Rating: PG-13 (just some adult language)

Summary: Living in NYC in March 2020 is redefining normal for Drake and Riley. Life doesn’t always go according to plan during a pandemic, after all.

Author’s Note: Alright, I said this was going to be a two part AU inside my AU, but I lied. There will be three parts because I don’t know how to be brief, and I’ve really enjoyed exploring this scenario with these two.

Just like part 1, this does hint at or reference some events from the prologue and the first couple of chapters of Why Are We Still Waiting?, but it does not spoil the core content of the story. And again, Trigger warning for coronavirus discussions.

Riley checked over her appearance in the mirror, making sure her eyeliner looked even on both sides. It may be the middle of a pandemic, but she figured she was allowed a little vanity on her wedding day. Even if it was going to be a courthouse wedding with only one witness, she still wanted to look and feel like a bride, at least as much as was possible given the circumstances.

Finding a white dress had been difficult. Her actual wedding dress was with Hana for some “finishing touches” that she’d wanted to add, and other than a couple of button downs for work, white wasn’t really a color she ever chose for herself. For a hot minute last night, as she stood in front of the closet, taking in lots of bright and dark colors, she’d considered just saying “Fuck it” and wearing something red, but then she remembered the white dress she’d picked out for her bachelorette party when Hana was in New York a couple of months ago for a meeting with her North American directors. Sure, a white shift with some sparkly embellishments at the neckline and a hemline that was short enough that she had to be careful about bending over probably wasn’t the most “bridal” piece of clothing out there, but she had to work with what she had.

She really did want to make their elopement as close to a “standard” wedding as she could. As much as Drake insisted he was fully on board with eloping and that the details didn’t matter, as much as he would scoff if she ever mentioned it to him, she knew that the traditional marriage ceremony meant more to him than it did to her. He might not be big on over-the-top, storybook romantic gestures, but he definitely had more of a sentimental streak than she did, and she knew that part of him was going to miss having the chance to take those vows in front of friends and family, miss having those closest to them get together and celebrate taking that step. They hadn’t decided whether or not they were going to still have the reception in Texas as originally planned, but even if they did, Riley knew it wouldn’t feel quite the same for Drake.

To be honest, the thought of eloping had popped into Riley’s head numerous times over the past year or so. Back when they postponed the first time, a large part of her had wanted to march down to whatever municipal building they needed to and just do it. Growing up, it’s not like she dreamed of some fairy tale princess wedding or anything, and while the wedding she and Drake had put together sounded nice to her, it wasn’t something she needed. Plus, the thought of organizing everything again for a later date had sounded just miserable. 

She’d thrown the idea out there once. Eloping had wormed its way back into her mind right after they’d gotten back from Cordonia, about one week after their wedding was supposed to happen. Not able to shake the thought, she’d hinted at just getting married soon in New York. She remembered laying there on their couch, her head in Drake’s lap as she painted her fingernails with turquoise glitter polish, Drake combing his fingers through her hair absentmindedly as he watched the 11 o’clock news. She’d told him it was such bullshit that they weren’t married, that she wasn’t good at waiting. He’d been sweet, thanking her and telling her it would be worth it in the end, but it had been clear to her that he still wanted to go through with the whole wedding down on the ranch, even if it would take them a bit to save up money for new deposits. She had known that if she’d told him point blank that she wanted to elope, he would have done it. But that wouldn’t have been fair to him.

But now that the world had changed so drastically, eloping was Drake’s idea. And while Riley was fully on board with this change in their plans, she knew there was probably a part of Drake that was going to mourn the loss of their outdoor wedding on the ranch. Since she knew he was doing this largely for her benefit, she figured the least she could do was try and make everything feel as much like a wedding as possible. Try and make everything feel more like a celebration, not a desperate move to get her health insurance.

So, she had scrambled to throw together something resembling their wedding last night, after they got back from the Marriage Bureau with their license in hand. Drake had logged in remotely for work, trying to get ahead as best he could, hoping to be done with his work for tomorrow by noon while Riley had flipped through the binder Hana had put together for them, full of tips and advice she gained from her own wedding. Some parts obviously got pitched out from the start. There would be no toasts, no music, no personalized vows. On the other hand, some tasks couldn’t be easier. They already had their rings, for instance, and as far as photographers went, well Daniel and a smart phone was really their only option.

All things considered, Riley felt like she’d done a decent job with what she’d thrown together. Truth be told, winging things and just rolling along, letting her whims guide her felt so much more natural to her than filling out all those damn charts and timelines and tables that Hana had given her. After all, so many moments in her life had been defined by impulsive decisions, including accepting Maxwell’s invitation and getting on that flight to Cordonia. Throwing together a wedding in 24 hours felt almost fitting.

Giving her appearance a last once over in the mirror, she threw her lipstick and eyeliner in her purse that already held their license, the rings, and their passports and walked out of their bedroom. She’d heard the locks on their front door, and the kitchen sink was running, so she knew Drake was back from taking out Anderson for a quick walk. It was time to go.  

“Alright, you ready?” Riley asked as she walked into the main living space and over to the door, grabbing her leather jacket off the hook and slipping it on. 

“Yeah, we’re just gonna have to hail a cab because Dryve is in surge. Probably everyone trying to avoid-” Drake replied as he shut off the water with his elbow and grabbed the towel, but he stopped abruptly as he looked up at Riley. “Damn.”

Riley smiled as she finished putting on her jacket, flipping her hair out of the way. Drake had insisted he didn’t want to see what she was wearing until the last minute, just further proof to her that he really did crave those wedding traditions. She walked over to him with an exaggerated roll of her hips, unable to resist teasing him just a little. “Avoid what?”

His eyes traced over her body slowly. “What?”

“What is everyone trying to avoid?” she widened her eyes, trying to make herself look as innocent as possible as Drake’s gaze left her legs and snapped back to her face. But he just shook his head slightly, giving her a little smile, not taking her bait.

“Shit, I need to change. You look perfect, and I’m just-”

Riley rolled her eyes, grabbing the lapels on Drake’s sport coat and pulling him down into a gentle kiss. “You don’t need to sweet talk me. I already put my name on the marriage license,” she quipped as she pulled back. 

Drake lifted his hand to cup her cheek, but stopped himself, instead giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m serious, Liu. You’re so beautiful. Why did you tell me that jeans and a sport coat would be fine?”

“Because it is,” she said, shaking him lightly by his lapels, “While I’m glad you like this improvised look, keep in mind that this dress was originally intended to be worn to a trashy nightclub.”

“Does saying that I’m glad that didn’t happen make me a jealous asshole?” Drake asked, eyes roving over her legs quickly before jumping back to her face, “But seriously, I’ll go put on a suit if you want me to.”

She shook her head no emphatically. “You aren’t supposed to upstage a bride on her wedding day, Drake. Besides, you in some denim and me in some leather just kind of feels… right, ya know?”

He nodded slowly, sliding his hand from her shoulder down to her hand, lacing their fingers together. “So, you ready?”

“Absolutely.”

They walked the few blocks over to Church Avenue hand in hand, knowing they would have an easier time hailing a cab there than on their street. They had actually had a bit of a debate on how best to get to the Marriage Bureau, wondering if prolonged time stuck in a car with a driver would be riskier than braving the subway, but ultimately they’d decided one driver into Manhattan and one back would have to be safer than mass transit. Still, Riley could tell Drake was a bit on edge, particularly when their driver coughed once.

The traffic into lower Manhattan wasn’t terrible for a Wednesday afternoon, and soon enough they were pulling up outside the City Clerk Office building. Daniel was already there, standing off to the side of the steps, wearing a mask. Daniel being their witness was actually why they were going to the Manhattan location, not the slightly closer Brooklyn one. Daniel still lived in Manhattan, and his apartment was close enough that he could walk to this site. Since he now had no income coming in with the bar and restaurant closure order, it had seemed like a huge imposition to ask him to have to pay for transportation, particularly when his coming out for this at all was already a massive favor.

Daniel waved when he saw them getting out of the cab. “Are you guys excited?” he called out. When Riley had texted him with their plans and asked if he would possibly be willing to be their witness, he’d called back, very enthusiastic. After all, he’d told her, she never would have met Drake if it weren't for him. “I brought a wedding present for you guys.”

Riley laughed as he handed them a bottle of hand sanitizer. “This is probably the most sought after item in the city. We’re honored.”

After buying a little bouquet of calla lilies from a vendor at Daniel’s suggestion, they made their way inside. Security guards were there, staggering different groups of people, trying to maintain some distance in the long, narrow room. The three of them presented their IDs with the license, Drake took the ticket with their number, and then all they could really do was sit on the light green couches and wait.

Riley could tell Drake was antsy. He would alternate between sitting next to her, knee bouncing up and down slightly and pacing in front of her. Under normal circumstances, a clearly anxious groom might be the butt of some joke, but today nearly everyone seemed on edge. The atmosphere was tense, like every person there was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. The Marriage Bureau was busy, and she was sure she and Drake weren’t the only couple scrambling to tie the knot. 

As she looked over at him, repeatedly checking the time on his watch, she just knew he was worried they wouldn’t get called up today. She understood why that had him on edge. Not only would they have exposed themselves to dozens of people for no good reason, but it probably wouldn’t be too many more days before the Marriage Bureau was shut down as a non-essential court service. She knew that marrying her and getting her onto his health insurance had cemented itself in his mind as the one thing he could do to keep her safe, and if he wasn’t able to do that, he would feel like a failure. 

She placed her hand on his thigh, hoping to both calm him and stop his fidgeting, but he just wove their fingers together and squeezed tightly, his leg continuing to bounce beneath their hands. Oddly enough, for all his anxiety over the whole situation, Riley felt calmer than she had in a long time. All the struggles to get that wedding in Texas rescheduled, only for the world to throw a pandemic at them and force them to change their date again now could be forgotten. They were getting married on a whim in their city, basically just the two of them. It felt right, in a strange way, to her.

After their number was called the first time, after they had paid the fee for the ceremony and taken care of the final paperwork with Daniel, Riley had hoped that Drake might calm down slightly. After all, the ceremony was definitely going to happen now. They’d already signed and dated the papers. But as they moved back towards the couches, Riley realized how foolish that hope was. Drake had worked himself into a ball of tension. If she didn’t find a way to calm him down soon, he would be miserable all the way through the ceremony.

Back in the day, she had some signals with Daniel, both for when she needed rescuing and when she needed him to back off. Granted, the backing off had usually been when a table of men had been a manageable level of flirty, but she flashed those three fingers behind her back at this point not because she was hoping for an excellent tip, but because she needed some one-on-one time with Drake. Thankfully, Daniel recognized her move quickly, excusing himself to the restroom.

Riley sat down on the couches, hoping that Drake would sit next to her so she could talk to him and get him back in a calm mood. However, he continued pacing in front of her. Sensing that she needed to break his mental cycle sooner rather than later, she called out. “I’m gonna need you to chill out, just a little bit. Otherwise, I’m gonna start thinking it’s the thought of marrying me that has you all stressed.”

“How can you even say-” Drake started, whipping his head around to face her, but stopping when he saw the look she was giving him. Letting out a big sigh and running his hand through his hair, he started again, “I just don’t like being stuck indoors with this many people. Maybe we should have worn masks like Daniel. I don’t know. It just makes me uneasy. And the longer we have to sit here, the more people that walk past, and every time someone coughs or sneezes, I just feel sick to my stomach. I thought this was a good idea, but now I’m wondering if we just took a really foolish risk.”

“Drake,” Riley said, shaking her head slightly, “everything we do these days is a risk. Either of us taking Anderson out is a risk. Next time we need to buy food will be a risk. Hell, I was still going into the office less than a week ago. We’re doing everything we can to minimize that risk, though. And that’s all we can do. Right?”

Drake nodded briskly, but he continued his pacing. Riley sighed, wishing she’d thrown a flask in her bag. A little bit of whiskey might help him take the edge off right now. But she hadn’t, plus she got the feeling that openly drinking in a government building might not be the best idea. Oh well, time to try another distraction technique.

“I’m not wearing any underwear,” she said quietly, hoping only Drake could hear her.

“What the hell, Liu?” he asked, stopping his pacing immediately to pivot to face her fully. 

She shrugged and glanced around. “I just wanted to take your mind off everything that’s stressing you out.”

“So your strategy was… to tell me you aren’t wearing underwear? Even though that’s not true?”

“You don’t know it’s not true.”

He crouched down in front of her, staring straight into her eyes, trying to tell if she was bluffing or not. She just raised an eyebrow and gave him a coy little smile. 

“I don’t buy it,” Drake said after several moments, pushing himself back up to standing. However, he didn’t resume his frantic pacing.

“But you can’t really be sure, can you?”

Drake rolled his eyes and shook his head, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yup!” she responded brightly, dancing and shimmying a little in her seat before bursting out in laughter, “And you chose to tie yourself to me for life anyway!”

 Drake chuckled, plopping down on the couch next to her. “What was I thinking?”

“It’s not too late. You could still make a run for it.”

“Nah,” Drake said, grabbing her hand and nodding at Daniel as he walked back over to them, “I already signed the paperwork.”

Maybe 20 minutes later, they were called over to the next room with several other couples. Knowing they would be up soon, Riley tucked her engagement ring in the box with their wedding bands and squirted some hand sanitizer into both of their hands. And then, C875 was being called, and suddenly they were walking into a room with a rainbow painting, one bench, and a podium. For all the years of planning, for all their waiting around this afternoon, it almost felt surreal that this was really happening. 

As Drake clutched her hands, she barely was able to process that the ceremony had started. But the officiant was there and was speaking, even though Riley wasn’t really listening to the words he was saying. All she could do was focus on Drake, staring at her with such intensity and such earnestness, she thought she might cry. 

As Drake said “Yes” in response to whatever the officiant had been saying and slid her rings onto her finger, she knew she should probably pay attention to the officiant, because her turn was coming up next. But all she saw was Drake, his large hands working so gently to put those rings onto her left hand. Those hands that had held her and clung to her and that had been a constant in her life for so many years now.

Once the rings were in place, she heard the officiant start speaking again, this time asking her if she promised to love, honor, cherish, and keep Drake as her husband. But all she could think about was the steadiness Drake had brought to her previously flaky existence, his utter understanding of her as a messed up human being, and his complete acceptance of both her flaws and strengths. So when the officiant paused, she said “Yes.” It didn’t matter that she’d missed half the words he was saying. Committing to this man who saw her as she was, who trusted her and who she trusted just as much was not a hard thing to do. So she grabbed his band out of the box and worked it on to his finger, hopeful that he knew the slight tremble in her hand came not from nerves, but from adrenaline.

Riley looked up to find Drake’s eyes locked on her face, and she gave him a small smile as the officiant finished the ceremony with some words that she still was finding it hard to focus on. Somewhere in there, she heard “state of New York” and “married,” but before she could fully process that Drake was now her husband, he was tugging her close and kissing her, sliding his hands around her waist as her arms looped around his neck instinctively, one hand snaking into his hair, the other still clutching her bouquet.

When they pulled apart, the officiant immediately handed them their marriage certificate before briskly walking out of the room. That was it. After years of planning and just over 24 hours of scrambling, they were officially married with a ceremony that couldn’t have taken more than 60 seconds. Riley couldn’t help but chuckle. It somehow felt perfect for them - take it slow until you decide to barrel full steam ahead had always been their pattern.

“Holy shit, Drake!” she said with a laugh, pulling him down for another quick kiss, “We’re married.”

“I know, Riley. I know.”

“I love you so much.”

“Yeah, me too. So damn much.”

She threaded her right hand into his left, noticing the way his ring felt against her fingers as she tugged him towards the exit. The world might be a mess of uncertainty, but they would face it together as a team.

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