#for now we tell each other se look forward to wednesday

[amymel86]

WIP Wednesday!

hey-hey! It’s WIP Wednesday and as usual, I am unable to keep my writing to myself  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so here I am, here to foist my offering of more of my Zokla fic onto you good ppl. Part 1 here

I have a lot planned for this fic so lets see how much of it I manage to keep to myself, huh?

Beautiful graphic by the lovely @sanzuh​ <3

*elements of the story may change by the time I post on AO3, it’s still a WIP*

Which was worse? Gripping onto the hot, thorny scales even tighter as the monster screeches and beats its wings, carrying her away from the falling ground as they rise higher and higher or the approach of King’s Landing and the looming spectre of The Red Keep?

Air of the city sky whipped passed her face before they began to slow and descend. Her cousin’s arm tightened around her and she felt utterly helpless during her deliverance into enemy hands. The den may have been ripped from the jaws of lions and now lays in the clutch on dragons, but these walls are the same, they’ve witnessed the same sins, Sansa thought as Jon alights his Zokla and turns to help her down from the monster’s neck.

He says something to her but she is not listening. Long buried echoes of her girlhood rear their ghastly heads – of a golden prince and poison-smiled queen, of the flat edge of blades and gauntleted backhands swiping across her tender childish cheeks and the tears she would swallow down in public but later let wet her soft silk pillow.

There was a noise like the cracking of a dry branch. A sting bloomed fiercely across her palm before she truly realised what she had done. Her Targaryen cousin’s cheek was beginning to stain with a pink glow.

Dark-clothed guards rush forward, the movement making the grey dragon lower her huge head and growl defensively. Jon raises one hand, commanding his men to halt. There were already seven spears pointing in Sansa’s direction. Zokla growls again. “Shhh, bump. It’s alright girl,” he murmurs before turning back to his prisoner and the soldiers. Sansa stands defiantly, with weapons drawn upon her. She was ready for whatever punishment he might unleash upon her. She struck him across the face – an act most hostile and un-lady-like. And she would repeat it too, given half the chance. Pulling her spine straight Sansa wills her lip not to tremble as her cousin silently appraises her with his one good eye, the sting of his cheek burning beneath it.

How dare he? How dare he take her captive? Hasn’t she experienced enough of this? Hasn’t she been used? Hasn’t she been beaten? They can beat her again – he can beat her if he should wish to – she will show them that she is made of steel and ice – and stone. Stone that no dragon flame could melt. She will show him that the North does not kneel. Not truly.

Jon continues to make a map of her with his grey eye that flashes violet when the light catches it just so. One side of his lips lifts faintly. She is to try and win over this man – this Targaryen. She will have to reign in her temper to do it, but for now she will bathe in the satisfaction of having struck him. His gaze is torn away when one of the soldiers asks something in a foreign tongue, a spear jabbing in Sansa’s direction.

“Kesā daor ōdrikagon zirȳla!” Jon barks. You will not harm her!

“Ziry pryjatan ao, Morghe Vala.”  Sansa struggles a little with accent but she thinks she grasps it fairly faithfully. She struck you, Dead Man.

Sansa’s Valyrian ear will have be tuned if she’s to catch everything that’s being said.

“Lo nyke hen bony ōghar va zirȳla bartos ēza issare ōdrikagon kesīr, kessa sagon ao sīkuda bona kessa sagon morghe vali,” Jon hisses and all weapons are lowered. It took Sansa a moment to translate. If I find out that one hair on her head has been harmed while here, it will be you that are the Dead Men.

“Ñuha dārilaros!” Comes the call from across the huge courtyard. My Prince. Jon grunts. He winces as he hobbles a little on his injured leg and Sansa wonders if the annoyance is at the pain or the silver haired woman now approaching them. With one word barked at his men, they leave.

“No doubt you have heard of our Queen Daenerys,” Jon tells her in a low murmur so as to inform her of the woman approaching. He turns to greet her – his aunt. “Gaomagon emā naejot yne brōzā bona?” Must you have to call me that?  He does not take kindly to the lofty title of prince, then.

The woman smiles, ignoring his irritation. “Nyke zūgagon ao would daor sagon māzis arlī.” I feared you would not be coming back to us. Her silver-white hair was swept away from her beautiful face and held with pins that glittered with rubies like droplets of spilled blood on snow. Her black leather armoured dress was split-skirted and revealed deep crimson riding breeches that looked tough in material, like some sort of hide. The bodice of her dress seemed to be made of some kind of reptilian skin, with scales that crept around her small frame. She looked every inch the Targaryen and Sansa only just now realises that she must have been the rider on the red dragon, not Viserys as Lord Royce had summised.

Just then, Zokla caught Sansa completely off guard by swishing her great, muscular tail and almost wrapping it around her, as if to separate her from the two Targaryens. The move felt a little...  protective? Sansa held her breath, unsure of what to make of it.

Jon chuckles darkly and gives his monster’s huge shoulder a shove. “Bump! Tepagon zirȳla arlī.” Give her back. “Ziry's ñuhon, daor aōhon.” She’s mine, not yours. There was a remorseful rumble from deep within the dragon’s chest before her tail slithered away allowing Sansa to step forward, out from within the dragon’s embrace.

“Qilōni iksis ziry?” The silver queen glances her way before making the demand of her War General. Who is she? She did not seem pleased to see her nephew return with a prisoner.

“This-“ Jon says, holding out his hand for Sansa to take while she curtseys as though he were presenting her like a gift. Sansa did not accept his offer and instead bowed her head at the beauty. “-is Lady Sansa Stark,” he finishes with a slight smirk upon his lips as he watches her.

“Hardyng,” Sansa corrects with a sniff, noting the quirk of Jon’s brow before turning back to the dragon queen. Her heart had stumbled at hearing her Stark name once more but Harry is barely cold and not yet buried – Sansa has hardly had time to properly come to terms with his fate – she won’t be giving up his name just yet.  “Your Grace,” she acknowledges the silver-haired queen.

Startling violet eyes swept up and down her frame. “Skoro syt iksis ziry kesīr?” Why is she here? The queen looks to her nephew with demand and suspicion in her eyes. She did not seem pleased to find a Stark (Hardyng though she may be) within their midst.

“I invited her.” Sansa almost snorts at his reply. If this was an invitation, she wouldn’t like to witness his command. She had certainly been issued with no indication that she could refuse his ‘invitation’.  “And as our guest favours the common tongue, I should think it more polite that we use it.” He seems unaware that she is able to follow Valyrian if she concentrates enough. That is fine, Sansa thinks. It may be to her advantage for him to believe her ignorant of his words.

The queen presses her lips tightly together. “Dārys se Bloodwing issi ōdrikagon.  Dārys's tīkun iksis olvie quba,” she says, ignoring her general’s request for the common tongue. Dārys and Bloodwing are both injured. Dārys’s wing is badly ripped. Jon sighs and rubs at his forehead, his inaction seeming to frustrate his aunt. “Zirȳla people gōntan bisa naejot īlva zaldrīzes's!” she spits, giving Sansa a look of dark fire. Her people did this to our dragon's!

At that, Jon took it upon himself to shift – step between Sansa and his queen as he stares his silver-haired aunt down. The intent seemed clear though no words, neither Valyrian, nor common were spoken. Sansa could see his shoulders rise and fall with each steady breath. Peering over them, the dragon queen seems to be even more frustrated.

“Visērȳs kessa daor sagon biare naejot gūrēñagon zȳhon zaldrīzes daor sōvegon,” Daenerys ground out between clenched teeth. Viserys will not be happy to learn his dragon can no longer fly.

“Bisa iksis vīlībāzma, Daenērys,” This is war, Daenerys, Jon rumbles, his voice low and calm. “Gōntan ao pendagon konīr daorys jiōragon ōdrikagon?” Did you think there would be no casualties?

“Not our dragons,” Daenerys answers, violet eyes flashing over Jon’s shoulder to pierce Sansa. “Never our dragons,” she hisses, spinning to stride away, taking her queenly venom with her.

Jon takes in a large lungful and reaches out to pat at his Zokla. “Tolī, riña.  Nyke'll māzigon naejot ūndegon ao tolī.” Later, girl. I’ll come to see you later. He turns to face Sansa and offers his arm again only to drop it back to his side when he notes the defiant expression she grants him. “Come, Jaesa,” he says gruffly, calling her Goddess again and starting to stalk toward the keep while expecting her to follow. “Let’s get you washed up before we present you to the King.”

***

Her cousin escorts Sansa to rooms larger than those she had been imprisoned in before. If her memory serves her well, these had been poor little Prince Tommen’s when last she had been here at King’s Landing. Rumour has it that the little prince who had been a short-lived king grew so scared at the sight of the dragons coming for him, that he jumped from his window. Sansa glances at the shuttered windows now, shaking the awful rumour from her head. Besides, he was king at the time of the Targaryen invasion, he would not have still resided in these rooms, he would not have jumped from these windows, his plummeted death was not below her new prison’s views. Sansa cannot seem to think of Tommen as anything other than the chubby-cheeked boy who loved his cat. She knows it has been a few years since, and likely the roundness of youth had slipped from his face and hardened under the crown they put upon him, but Sansa will not try to amend her memories.

Arya loved to chase the cats here too.

That memory is sharp and stinging – just as biting as her strike to Jon’s face would’ve been for him. Sansa rubs a thumb into her palm as she tucks the memory of her sister away, wraps it in soft knitted fabrics and tells herself not to think that the last place she saw her alive was this wretched castle.

Her eye casts around. The rooms are fairly bare; looking positively naked without the swaths of crimson velvets with golden trims and emblems of lions – all the things she’d come to expect of Red Keep chambers from her time here under Lannister rule. They were meant to be stags, she thinks to herself, turning to see her cousin stood behind her with his ever-watching eye. And you are meant to be a dragon though you call your beast a wolf. Can you be swayed?

“Satin!”  he barks, though his eye never strays from her as he stands there, hands behind his back, observing her like she were a curious new species of creature. A comely young man with ink-dark ringlets appears as if he had been hiding within the very walls awaiting his master’s summons.

The servant’s dark eyes quickly take in the General’s injured leg. “Aōha kris!” Your leg!

“The common tongue, please Satin,” her cousin says, ignoring the young man’s concern. “We have a guest.” He nods his head in her direction.

‘Satin’, gives her a smile. “Apologies, my lady,” he says before sweeping into a low bow.

“Fetch Lady Sansa some water to bathe,” Jon commands.

“But... your leg-“

The manservant is cut off by a sharp turn of his masters head accompanied by a searing glare.

Satin sniffs and straightens, holding his poise perfectly. “Here? In your rooms?” To which, her cousin gives a stiff nod. Satin scurries off to do as he is bid.

That catches Sansa off guard. His rooms? What on earth does he mean by bringing her here.

Something twitches in her belly – a horrid spark of a thought.

He wouldn’t violate her, would he? She knows nothing of the Targaryens and even less of the particular one standing in front of her.

Her cousin approaches and Sansa stands strong with steel in her spine. If she is afraid, she will be damned if he’s to know about it. He’s standing close now, his skin and armour still coated in battle-grime; dirt, blood and sweat. His eye roams her face as Satin scurries back in, directing his under-servants with the bath tub and buckets. Jon does not move and Sansa wonders if he’ll ever look his fill of her. “You need not be afraid of me, cousin,” he murmurs low for only her ears. Sansa peers over his shoulder at the way the servants (save for Satin) skitter around like mice trying desperately to fulfil their master’s wish before they can flee again. They seemed afraid.

Swallowing, Sansa forces a smile. The worst kind of beasts can smell fear – it excites them. She does not know what sort of beast stands before her yet but she won’t let him get her scent. “Why have you brought me to your chambers, General?” she asks calmly as hot steaming water splashes into the tub by the hearth.

“They are yours now,” he says, “while you stay with us.”

“And where will you sleep?”

Satin makes an odd, amused snorting noise. Jon ignores it. “It is a big castle, my lady. I’m sure I will find somewhere to lay my head.”

That did not assuage her thoughts. She’s been in the position of prisoner before, she knows of many different ways captors treat their captives. Robb will gut you if you hurt me, she thinks, hoping it to be true. “I am well aware of how large the castle is,” she tells him dismissively, looking around, feigning disinterest. “There are far less golden lions than last I was a ‘guest’ here.”

Jon leans forward and tilts his head as he asks, “An improvement?”

Sansa catches sight of a new little serving mouse scurrying in and frantically whispering into Satin’s ear. Whatever he was told, it made his pleasant complexion turn pallid. She will have relearn all there is to know about the servants and the guards while she is here. To be informed is to be forearmed after all. There is just enough time for her answer before Satin approaches them. “An improvement? Perhaps. Though there may be a few too many dragons for my liking. I am yet to decide.”

Her answer earns a wry smile from her cousin before his manservant comes up to whisper in his ear, causing that smile to slide right off. “Ziry iksos rhēdan? Sir?” he asks, finally tearing his gaze away from Sansa. It’s started? Now?

“Kessa, istiti jikagon naejot zirȳla.” Yes, we must go to her.

Jon offers her quick glace before taking Satin by the arm and hauling him away, hissing, “Se skoros gaomagon īlon gīmigon hen ra? īlon daor dohaeragon zirȳla!” And what do we know of these things? We cannot help her. Satin shrugs out of Jon’s grip. There is a fury in his eyes when he squares up to his master with his reply. Sansa did not catch the words but she had never before seen a servant react in such a manner towards their lord. For half a moment, she believes she is about to witness a beating. Instead, she watches as her cousin growls some response and fishes out a small bag of coins. “Jurnegon syt dohaeragon.  Sindigon pōja lykemagon,” he murmurs, handing the coin to Satin. Find someone to help. Buy their silence. “Jikagon.” Go.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #zokla #jon was raised in essos au

[marauders-unite]

Don´t be such a boy | part II

Summary: Sirius was sending so many mixed signals. One day he´ll be laying in your lap under a tree on a sunny day. You´d be playing with his hair and sharing life stories. Next day he would tell you he didn't want to give you false hope and he didn't want a relationship. Then the day after he´d have you pinned against the prefect bathroom door kissing you all over. Everyone is talking about how girls are supposed to be complicated but this boy was really all over the place.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smut, angst?

Words: 1940

A/N: I am loving writing this series! Hope you enjoy this part. Next one will be up on Wednesday one week from today xoxo Sorry if this is terrible, it´s a little messy  Part I here

Taglist: kielemarie  do-youseeme

Masterlist | Requests are OPEN

"I can´t believe how childish he is being.” you told lily as you sat down again in the library. “What happened?” Lily asked confused. You hadn't told Lily about you and Sirius having hooked up in the prefect bathroom. You debating on telling her then decided against it. You wouldn't like it if Sirius would share it with everyone so you wouldn't either. “I don´t know, Sirius thinks I shouldn't be talking to will” you told her. She raised her eyebrows at you in surprise, and a slight smirk on her lips. “Is that so? huh, thats... interesting.” she said then turning back to her essay. “What do you mean?” “It´s just that if I didn't know any better I´d say he was jealous.” she said not looking up from her parchment but you could see her smiling. You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Why on earth would he be jealous of me talking to will? or anyone for that matter.” “Your guess is as good as mine.” she told you still looking down smiling to her self. Maybe he was jealous? but what did that mean for the two of you. He was the one saying he didn't want anything Sirius? Did he lie? No it´s Sirius. He´s a player. He would never want anything serious, or did he?

“So pad foot what was that about?” James asked as Sirius walked into the common room. “Nothing” He said looking angry as he sat down in a unoccupied chair. “Didn't seem like nothing.” Peter stated. Sirius sent him eyes like daggers. “Well sorry to disappoint” He muttered and looked down. And with that the guys dropped it. Deciding it was better not to push it. Sirius had never felt like this before. He wasn't the jealous type. But seeing Wills hands around your waist and you smiling at him with your beautiful smile. It had waxed him in a way he hadn't experienced before. But y/n was right he had no right to be mad at her for flirting with Will. He decided that evening that he´d stop being angry with you. He´d try to be as normal as possible. Be careful not to react if he saw you with another guy. Even try to see if you couldn't get that thing he had with Marlene going again. Maybe that would help him forget about you. You your lips felt on his. Your soft skin. How good your hair smell...  He mentally hit himself for getting so easily distracted. No he told him self, he couldn't. 

"Are we good?” You asked Sirius the next day as you sat next to him in Transfiguration. He smiled at you. “We´re spectacular love.” He told you this, and seemed to be back to his normal flirtatious self. But something about it just seemed to good to be true. It was such a big switch from how he had acted yesterday. “Sirius-” You started but he cut you off. “y/n sorry about yesterday, it´ll never happen again.” Then just as you wanted to say something. Ask what he really meant about what he said. Not liking seeing you flirt with others. But before you could start Professor McGonagall started the lesson.

“So how´s things going with you and Will?” Lily asked you in Astronomy. “Oh you know, he´s cute and everything but I don´t think it´ll be anything special to be honest.” This was true. Will was handsome but you just didn't´t click. He  was little to plain if you were going to be brutally honest. “That´s a shame.” she said eyeing you the looking down into her book again. “What about Sirius?” She said casually, not looking up at you. Not wanting to put any pressure behind her words. Though inside she was bursting to know what was going on between the two of you. “Lily we kissed and... Well he doesn't want anything serious so I´m not going to entertain myself with the idea.” You told her. “But what if he did want something more? Would you?” She asked now looking up to see your reaction to her words. You felt your body tense a little then you exhaled and looked down at your work. Pretending not to care. “Well he don´t so I don´t have to think about the what if.” You told her ending the conversation.

As you and lily walked into the grounds during lunch to enjoy the nice weather you saw Sirius talking to Marlene. She was giggling at something he said. He was giving her his most dashing smile. She hit him playfully and he pulled her closer whispering something in her ear. Then when he looked up he saw you standing with lily a few feet away. His smile faltered. He look like he had been caught doing something he sound´t have. You´d had enough. Turning quickly you started walking fast towards the common. “Hey where you going?” Lily asked looking confused where you left her. Not turning back you just yelled back you´d forgotten something, and you would meet her in Arithmancy. You didn't know why it hurt you so much seeing him so openly flirting with Marlene. But it did. It felt like something had punched you in the gut. 

You went by the rest of the day as normal. Pretending that nothing had happened. Lily didn't´t bring it up, knowing it would just hurt you, though you didn't´t want to admit it. Seeing Sirius with someone else had made you unmistakably hurt. As you were walking with Lily and Remus Lily suddenly stopped. “Is that Regulus?” Lily said as you passed the court yard. You looked the same direction as she was. There was Sirius looking to be in a heated discussion with a slightly younger boy from Slytherin. He was handsome with the same dark hair as Sirius though his was shorter. “Yeah it is.” Remus said furrowing his brows looking concerned. You knew Sirius had a brother at Hogwarts, but it never hit you before know that you had never actually seen him before or knew who it was. “Looks like their having an argument.” Lily said. And sure enough just a second later Sirius said something loudly you couldn't quite make out before quickly turning and storming away. Leaving Regulus standing alone. He looked saddened. Then he a few moments later walked back into the castle. “They never talk” Remus said looking concerned. “I´m going to go check on him, I´ll se you later. He told you then walked the same direction Sirius had disappeared just moments earlier. 

That night you needed to clear your head. You needed some calm. So you headed to the astronomy tower. It had the most amazing views on starry nights like this. And most importantly it was usually empty this time of day. You were so confused about your feelings for Sirius. How what he had said didn't reflect his actions. How you´ made it clear you could flirt with whoever you liked, though seeing Sirius with Marlene had hurt you. He was obviously a player. You couldn't delude yourself with feelings of affections towards someone who would not return them. Or would he?

Before you made it all the way up you were met with the smell of smoke. As you entered you saw a boy sitting by the towers edge. A cigarette in one hand as he leaned back on his elbows looking out at the sky. You recognized the silhouette right away. “Sirius?” You asked gently. “You following me?” He said with a little laugh. “No I was just, I can go.” But as you turned away he spoke again. “I was just teasing you. You don´t have to leave.” It was something about his voice and his presence that made you feel like something was wrong. You walked over to him then sat down next to him. “I didn´t know you smoked.” You said simply. He smiled and looked down at the cigarette in his hand before moving it to his lips and taking a slow pull of it. “There´s a lot you don´t know about me. Not going to lecture me like my mom are you?” he told you as he exhaled the smoke. Neither of you looking at each other, just looking out on the starry sky. After sitting there in an comfortable silence for a while you spoke again ignoring his question. “Is everything alright Sirius?” You turned to him trying to catch his eyes but he just continued to look forward. He took inhaled a big breath then put out the cigarette on the hard wooden floor, leaving a mark. Then pushed himself up and sat straight, still not meeting your eyes. “Have you ever just felt like no matter what you do it´s gonna be wrong somehow.” He said this more like a statement then a question. He didn't really what made he confide in you. He hadn't even talked to James about this. Even though just a few hours ago the two of you had been avoiding each other, both upset with the other. It didn't seem to matter. You just felt like someone who would understand. Like you´d help him clear his mind. You didn't say anything just waited for him to continue. “My whole family thinks purebloods are superior, they think we should have some sort of higher status just because of our family history. They´re obsessed with this. And you´ve heard about Voldemort right? and his followers...?” He trailed of, still not meeting your eyes. You´d of course heard about the Black family, even being muggleborn you knew. You knew that Sirius had rebelled being sorted into Gryffindor and not caring about peoples blood status. But you´d never heard him really talk about his family. You hadn't even seen him talk to his younger brother before earlier that day.  “Yeah, death eaters right? what about them?” you asked carefully still trying to catch his eyes. “My parents want me and Regulus to join them.” “What?” you asked in disbelief. “Sirius-” he cut you off as the words just starting pouring out of him. “And I can´t but that means I´ll have to leave home. And that means I have to leave Regulus. I know he´s not like them deep inside. But he just wants to make our parents happy, he doesn't want to disappoint them. I don´t care if I lose my parents. I lost them when I got sorted into Gryffindor, but Regulus. I don´t know if I can just leave him alone with those.. those..  monsters.” He looked down now at his hands and started to pick under his nails. You laid a hand on his. This made his eyes finally meet yours. You could see they were glazed over, he was fighting back tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Seeing him like this made your heart ache. You could feel his pain as if it was your own. You moved closer and pulled him into a hug. You held you arms around him and he leaned into your neck. At this gesture he let go off all the feelings he was holding in. He cried quietly into you. You just sat there holding him. Rubbing his back comfortingly. “Sirius, you can´t save everyone. Especially someone who doesn't´t want to be saved.” You told him softly. He didn't answer just hugged you a little tighter. You kissed the top of his head and just held him. You knew that what he needed right here and now was just not to be alone. So you stayed, holding him. 

#Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #Sirius black fanfiction #Sirius black x y/n #Sirius black one shot #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter Ship #harry potter ships #harry potter imagine #marauders era #marauders #marauders x you #marauders imagine #harry potter marauders

[raiseyourcups]

Cabur

Chapter Three

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (slow-burn) Warnings: None that I can think of Word count: 2.1k

Note: I decided to change the update days to Wednesdays and Saturdays because I have so much of Season 1 already written and keep having ideas for Season 2.

Also on AO3 Masterlist

Summary: The Mandalorian fixes his mistake but gets himself into trouble. Aili is asked for a very big favor.

Aili had just handed the Armorer the bag of credits when she tensed up and the largest Mandalorian she had ever seen came into the forge. She had never really seen a lot of the Mandalorians in the Covert other than their bounty hunter but this guy was huge...and very blue. He paused and cocked his head when he saw her and Aili tried not to stare too much. She could almost feel the glare coming from him. It was impressive given the helmet that covered his face. She wondered how long it took Mandalorians to craft their skill in getting their emotions to show past their armor.  

“What is it?” The Armorer questioned, tilting her helmet slightly. She knew that he would not have come into the forge unannounced without a good reason. 

His helmet tilted towards Aili again before he must have realized that he was wasting time, "That di’kut got himself in trouble, he’s pinned down by the other bounty hunters.”

Somehow Aili just knew that he was talking about the only other Mandalorian that she had spoken to not even two weeks ago. How he managed to piss off the other hunters was a mystery to her since he never wasted any time speaking to them. The two of them had been in the Guild together for years and the time he tried to take her puck was the first time they had ever spoken. She was actually a little impressed. 

“Then we must go to his aid,” The Armorer ordered as if it was the simplest thing. As if it wouldn’t put the others at risk.

“We’ll be revealed.”

“This is the Way." And just like that the argument was over and Aili knew it was time for her to go. Whether that meant to leave the covert and help them or head back to her ship or...there was a problem. 

“You’ll need a plan to get the foundlings out,” Aili spoke up, already standing up so she could help in any way she could. “In case the Guild decides to go after you when you help he get away.”

“What do you know of the foundlings?” Big Blue growled out as he took half a step towards her. It took every ounce of willpower she had to not bare her teeth or grab her blaster. Shooting each other wasn’t going to help anyone right now. 

“Four of them are mine and if anything happens to them because you want to waste time talking, I promise you that I will not hesitate to kill you,” Aili threatened despite knowing that it was a bad idea. Big Blue had at least a foot on her but she wouldn’t let that stop her. She had taken down bigger targets than him, granted they had never been wearing what looked like 50-plus pounds of armor, but she could probably handle it. 

“Enough. Gather the others and go to his aid.” The Armorer ordered before turning to look at Aili. He knew a dismissal when he saw one and he left almost as quickly as he came but not with one more tilt of his helmet towards Aili. “Aili Verdella, I must ask something of you.”

“What is it?” Aili kind of hoped she was about to be told to take the kids and leave but she knew that was more than wishful thinking. They were Mandalorian foundlings and they would stay with the Mandalorians even if none of them had sworn the Creed yet. 

“Go to our beroya and help him,” The Armorer said as she held something out for Aili to take. “Show him this, tell him I sent you.”

Aili made no move to grab whatever it was. She didn’t like this request at all, didn’t like that she was being asked to just leave her girls. “Why would I do that when-" 

“Your ade will be fine, the foundlings will be first to leave should trouble arise and I’ll send them with the best warriors.” The Armorer said knowing that was the only thing that was making Aili hesitate. 

Aili shook her head, that wasn’t enough for her, wasn’t enough of a plan in her opinion. “That’s not making me want to agree, do you even have a way off planet if it comes to it?”

“Seeking passage will be...difficult but not impossible.”

Aili paused to think about her choices, none of them easy to choose from. But she finally made a compromise with herself, it was the best option and it was the only one that made the anxiety growing in her chest simmer away. “Take my ship, if I’m to join your bounty hunter then I have to leave my ship behind. It’s a Glowzee-class, more than enough room, and it’s fully stocked. Should have enough fuel to get you at least a few systems away from here.”

The Armorer stared in silence knowing how much this choice was paining the woman in front of her. To leave her ade behind, to leave the only home she had known for years now and to help someone she didn’t even know aside from their one tense conversation. 

“Vor entye. Now go before the fight is over.” She held her hand out more insistently for Aili to take the item in her hand. The bounty hunter hesitated for half a second before taking it, surprised to see it was a pendant. She didn’t know what it meant or how it would convince the Mandalorian bounty hunter to trust her but she wasn’t about to question it. She pulled off the vambrace that contained the controls to her ship and handed it to the Armorer. She wasn’t going to need it any time soon and she would feel better if the Mandalorians had it at the ready if they faced a blowback from helping their bounty hunter. 

Aili waited half a second longer before she spun on her heel and left the forge, wrapping the cord attached to the pendant around her wrist as she went. She paused at the sound of children asking where everyone was going and she wondered if she should say goodbye. The decision was taken out of her hands when a voice called out to her. “Ori’vod! Are you going too?” 

She turned at the sound, not sure if she was relieved or not. “Madsin, shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on your sisters?”

“They’re playing with the others. So you’re leaving?” Madsin questioned, crossing her arms over her chest. Her dark brown eyes were narrowed and it reminded Aili of how the other girl had always looked back before they came to Nevarro. Too serious, like she had never had a childhood which was true but it still hurt to see again. 

“The Armorer asked me to help your beroya. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone and I need you to watch your sisters. If someone tells you to run, you run and make sure they’re with you, I want you four to be the first ones on my ship. Got it?”

It was a lot to ask of Madsin but Aili knew it wouldn’t be a difficult order for the teen to follow. Listening to orders had practically been drilled into all of them before they were old enough to know what a blaster was. The fact that they were given said blasters soon after spoke volumes about their upbringing. Madsin stared at Aili silently before nodding. “Ret’urcye mhi ori’vod.”

                          *Run away to a place where you can breathe*

Aili skirted along the edges of the fire fight knowing that going into it would be pointless. The other Mandalorians were about to join in and that meant she needed to get to the Mandalorian bounty hunter’s ship before that. She also needed to get to her ship first and grab whatever she could because while she could handle being without certain comforts, she didn’t want to be without certain things. She’d seen his ship, she’d be surprised if it had a working heat system let alone a decent water system. She rushed over to where she had landed her own ship thankful that she had chosen to land near the Razor Crest for once. 

She shoved things into a couple of bags, not caring what it was for the most part. She did stop by her food supplies and take a couple of things, just in case the Mandalorian didn’t believe in keeping food in stock. She had no idea what he kept on his ship other than weapons and a carbonite freezer. And she only knew he had those things because she had those things. The sounds of the firefight were louder now, the Mandalorians having joined in and Aili let out a silent curse before hitting the control panel to close the gangway, jumping out before it had even begun to close. 

After dropping her bags onto the floor of the Crest, she didn’t have to wait long for him to show up and she couldn’t say she was surprised by his reaction. She would have done the same thing. She was surprised by his shiny new armor but that wasn’t her business. Even though she knew for a fact that beskar was hard to come by nowadays. She couldn’t help but wonder where he had found enough to get new armor from the Armorer though. 

“Why are you here?” The Mandalorian was quick to aim his blaster at her chest before he adjusted his aim towards her head. Looks like he had noticed that her cuirass was made of the same material as his own. He had something wrapped in cloth held against his chest and Aili wondered if that was what the fuss was all about. It didn’t look like anything worth a firefight but what did she know. She couldn’t even see what it was. 

“Your Armorer sent me to help,” Aili said, letting her palm open just enough for the medallion to dangle in the air. Even with the helmet covering his face she could read the surprise in his body language. She was about to say something when she saw movement behind the Mandalorian and she grabbed her blaster as fast as she could, aiming over his shoulder. As expected the Mandalorian bounty hunter did not like that.

"Don't even think about it Karga," Aili said as the Mandalorian spun around. With two blasters on him now Karga stopped moving forward knowing his chances of stopping Mando were dwindling. He was surprised to see that Aili had apparently teamed up with the Mandalorian. They had only ever met the one time and it hadn’t been a very warm encounter. 

“Now let’s just stop and think about this. You broke the Code and now you’ve dragged my second best into it?"

Aili bit her tongue to keep her comments to herself. Second best? They were tied at the very least and no one had dragged her into anything. She let her eyes shift over to the Mandalorian to see what he planned to do. 

“Move to the wall.” She almost missed the muttered comment but she was quick to hug the wall when the Mandalorian pressed a button on his vambrace. A grappling hook hit one of the buttons on the ship’s control panel and the bay filled with smoke. Karga shot his blaster, missing both Aili and the Mandalorian in his panic. Aili was about to take aim at him when the Mandalorian beat her and shot Karga out of the ship. It was a good shot and as much as Aili wanted to make sure he was dead, she knew the Mandalorian would take off without her without a second thought. And she had now promised the Armorer to help him so she stayed on the ship.

The Mandalorian stared at her for half a second longer, still holding the bundle in a way that she couldn’t see what it was, before he shut the ship’s gangway and went up to the cockpit without saying anything. Aili wasn’t about to wear out her welcome so quickly and settled down on top of a cargo crate and waited for the ship to move. The ship took off but the Mandalorian stayed in the cockpit. Aili took the chance to rearrange her things and take stock of everything she had grabbed in her rush. She hoped she had grabbed useful things but when she caught sight of a ratty blanket, she knew she should have paid a little more attention.

Mando’a Translations words not seen in past chapters

di'kut - fool, idiot Vor entye - "Thank you"; literally: "I accept a debt" Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye; literally: "Maybe we'll meet again" beroya - bounty hunter

TAG LIST

@lifeisapitch15​

#din djarin x original character #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin imagines #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #my writing

[honeyhan-123]

Say Thank You XII

Series Summary: Nearly five years have passed since Steve Rogers saves your life without so much as a thank you. When he sees you again by chance, he makes sure that he’ll never let you go and maybe teach you some manners in the process.

Series Warning: This will be a dark!Steve fic with stalking, kidnapping and manipulating as well as non-con and dub-con situations. Please don’t read it if you don’t like that sort of thing.

Chapter Warnings: smut

Word Count: 3.5k

AN: I am so incredibly sorry at just how long it has been since I’ve updated this bad boy but here ya go my loves. I hope you enjoy it because, no spoilers but, it may be the last time you enjoy one for a while...

I. New York ~ II. Madrid ~ III. The Apartment ~ IV. The Trip ~ V. The Basement ~ VI. The First Lesson ~ VII. The Waiting Game ~ VIII. The First Attempt ~ IX. The Darkness ~ X. The Truth ~ XI. The Syndrome

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

XII. The Meeting Your fists curled into the sheets so tightly that you thought for sure they would make rips in the silken material. Your knees ached from how long you had been kneeling on them as they rubbed against the mattress with every thrust of his hips. The obscene sounds of your cunt clenching around him echoed in the bedroom as he drove you closer and closer to the edge once more.

He pounded into you with such a ferocity you worried that you would collapse underneath him and he seemed to realise this as he easily picked you up from the bed, wrapping on arm around your torso and the other around your neck softly, pulling your back against him, supporting your weight since you couldn’t.

‘That’s it Sweetheart, you look so fuckin’ good like this.’ His words came between his groans, murmured against the shell of your ear. ‘Look at yourself in the mirror, taking my cock so well, being my good girl.’ You couldn’t hold the moans back at his words, your eyes peeling open to stare at the large mirrored door that lead to the wardrobe in which you saw yourself reflected.

You had to agree with him, it was a sight for sore eyes. You mouth was open, dropped in an extended ‘O’ shape as his hand tweaked your nipples, pulling them into hard beads, rolling them between his fingers. You threw your head back against his shoulder, unable to keep yourself upright as his other hand danced down your body, swirling in the pool of slick that had gathered where you were connected.

He rubbed your clit with two fingers, as you screamed in silence, murmuring a jumbled collection of words, each one slurring into the next as the euphoria flooded your veins. ‘That’s it Sweetheart. Let go for me, c’mon baby. Just let go. I’m right behind you, I just need you to cum for me. Please baby.’ You couldn’t hold back any more, the visual satisfaction of watching his immense body flexing behind yours, the feeling of fullness he gave you with every thrust, the heated breath against your ear were all too much.

You screamed for him as you came, your voice hoarse and strangled through the pleasure, your velvet warm cunt clenching around him, pulling him in deeper, milking him for every drop as he cradled your body against his. You felt him thrust, slow and shallow as he filled you, groaning into your ear.

‘Oh Sweetheart, I think I’m going to like having you up here.’ A barely there laugh escaped your lips as he pulled you back down to the bed, curling his body against you, his cock remained inside of you, slowly softening as your breathing calmed down, sleep gently calling you despite the early hour.

You didn’t know how long you lay there with him, his fingers gently tracing the smooth planes of your stomach, his mind seemingly miles away. Eventually you felt him shift behind you, pulling out as he crossed to the dresser, pulling on a clean pair of boxers and handing you a shirt.

‘C’mon Doll, get up. We gotta talk.’ Your mind was foggy as you obediently followed him from the room, heading back downstairs and turning left to what looked like his lounge room. He pointed you to the couch and stood above you, his shadow looming over your body.

‘What’s going on Steve? You seem tense.’ You tried to reach for him but he stepped out of your grip, his brow furrowed.

‘Nothing’s wrong per se Sweetheart. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page about this, about you coming upstairs.’ You swallowed thickly, hoping he wasn’t about to send you back down to the basement again. ‘You’ve been behaving so well lately and I just want that to continue. I want us to continue living the best life we can but I think we need to lay down some ground rules. Most of them will be pretty straight forward or rules that you have already been following for some time such as no shouting or fighting. I’m taking a huge risk bringing you upstairs so soon, but it’s because I trust you to behave and I would hate for you to make a silly mistake that would dismantle everything we’ve built together.’

You nodded, understanding his words, the veiled threat of what would happen if you disobeyed. Your hand reached out, latching onto his own as you tried to pull him towards you. ‘I understand Stevie, I know how much you’ve done for me. I don’t want to do anything to ruin that.’ He clasped your hands in his, his eyes searching yours for deceit as your sweet words washed over him.

‘Thank you Sweetheart, you don’t know how much it means to me that you realise I am on your side. I’m only trying to help you.’ A frown threatened to cross your face, diminishing the demure facade. He’s on your side? He was the reason you were here, trapped as his partner, as he referred to you as so often. You swallowed back the bitter taste his words left in your mouth and he knelt before you, letting go and reaching to clasp your face in them, bringing your bodies closer, him in between your legs.

He leaned back, pulling you with him so you straddled his chest on the floor, his back resting on the soft carpet as his hands clawed at your body, trying to pry his shirt from your body. The bulge he moved your hips against was evidence of just how eager he was to go again already and while your body may have been itching to have him fill you again, your mind was less certain.

As though your prayers had finally been heard, a faint ding resounded through the house, causing Steve to halt as he fondled your breasts, pulling back as he turned his head towards the hallway.

Gently, he lifted you off of him, handing back his shirt and you were quick to cover yourself with it. ‘Sweetheart… I need you to stay here okay? You can’t make a sound until I say you can. If you so much as think about trying anything, there will be severe punishment.’ His threats echoed around your head as the doorbell rang again. ‘I need you to say you understand Sweetheart, I need you to promise me.’

Fear crawled it’s way through you as you nodded, your voice small and weak as you replied. ‘I understand. I won’t move or make any noise.’

‘Good. I’ll be back soon.’ His lips pressed against you forehead and he cast you one last warning glance before heading out of the room as the ding sounded again. ‘Christ, I’m coming okay?’ He called out in annoyance to whoever stood on the other side of the door.

You could hear the door click open and faint male voices but nothing else was audible from this distance and so you sat back on the couch, too afraid to do anything else. This is probably a test of some sort. He wants to know if he can trust you being upstairs. If this were really a test, you were determined to pass with flying colours, you weren’t willing to risk being back down to the basement so soon.

+

Steve pulled open the door, his mind too preoccupied with you being left alone upstairs to remember to look through the peephole. The great wooden door gave way to the one person that Steve could trust right now and relief flowed through him, anyone else might not have understood.

‘Buck, man am I glad it’s just you.’ Steve pulled the other man into a hug, tapping his back before leading him back outside, closing the door slightly behind him.

‘What’s going on Steve? Why are you so stressed? What have you done?’ Bucky’s blue eyes narrowed at his best friend as he thought back to the girl stuck in his basement. Whatever was going on must have something to do with her.

‘It’s nothing Buck, definitely nothing bad… yet. We’re just trying something new, I want her to move upstairs with me and it’s only been a day and she’s all alone and everything is locked and I know she’ll be fine but… I just don’t want her to ruin everything we’ve built, I just want to make sure she’s ready for this much trust.’ Even as he spoke Steve’s eyes were farting around his front yard as though looking for her, trying to see if she had somehow found a way out of the house. ‘But what are you doing here? Is everything okay?’

‘That’s good Stevie. I’m glad she’s out of that basement and I just came to check on you, on her, see how everything’s going.’

‘It’s going fine and as you can see now’s not really a good time so I’ll see you later okay?’ Steve already started backing towards the door, eager to get back inside, to you, to where you had left off when the doorbell rang.

‘I’m leaving… on Wednesday, for Wakanda and I’m busy between now and then. I want to meet her Steve.’ Bucky watched as Steve swallowed heavily, analysing him momentarily before finally nodding.

‘Fine, I guess we could use it as a test. See if she’s ready to meet the others too. Promise you’ll tell me everything she says?’

‘I can’t promise that pal… but I promise I’ll you if you have to worry.’ Steve clenched his jaw as he appraised Bucky’s offer before accepting.

‘Just, give me a minute to get her ready, I’m pretty sure she’s not decent right now.’ Steve hated the smirk that came over his best friends face at his words.

‘What? Did I interrupt something?’ Bucky’s voice was full of mirth and humour as Steve rolled his eyes and pushed the door back open, praying that he hadn’t made a mistake leaving you alone so soon.

+

You watched as Steve returned to the living room, his head peeking through the doorway first as if he were afraid of what he would find. Yet as he saw you sitting patiently on the couch, the smile that came over his face made him look nothing less than angelic.

‘I’m sorry about that Sweetheart, but I promise we can continue later. Now that you’re upstairs I plan on taking you on every surface in our home.’ Your insides fluttered at his words as he crossed to you, gathering one of your hands and pulling your body up to his, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed you deeply.

Before it could get too heated, he pulled back, pressing his lips to yours softly once more before pulling away completely, your hands clasped in his. ‘C’mon Sweetheart, we need to go downstairs.’  

Your face paled, your heels instantly trying to find a grip on the soft carpet as you tried to hold your ground, your body pulling back on his. ‘Stevie no, please! I behaved, I didn’t move or make any sound. Please don’t take me back down there!’ Your voice rang with desperation as you pleased with him, clutching his arm, tears of panic threading to spill. Even though you had only been upstairs a short amount of time, the thought of going back to the basement was enough to make you feel sick.

‘What?’ Turning back you saw the realisation wash over Steve’s face as he saw you again, instantly trying to calm you down. ‘Sweetheart no, it’s not like that. I know you behaved and I feel so proud of you. We just have a guest and all of your clothes are still downstairs. I figured you wouldn’t want to meet my best friend looking like this.’ You glanced down at your scantily clad body, the only thing covering you one of Steve’s shirts and a pair of lace panties.

‘No, I don’t. I’m sorry Steve, I just… I just thought you were taking me back down there.’ Your eyes started drying as he held you, soothing you slowly.

‘I understand Sweetheart, I should have said something, made myself clear.’ Relief flowed through you as he once again started leading you down the hallway, towards the basement door. You were still hesitant about going back down there but you trusted that Steve was a man of his word, he had never once lied to you since locking you down there.

It was eerie walking down into your former rooms even though so little time had passed. You now had hope, before you had been resigned to a life trapped down here but now he had taken you upstairs, was willing to introduce you to other people.

‘I think Bucky’ll like the white one, you know, with the blue trim?’ You nodded your head, crossing to the wardrobe and pulling the dress he was talking about from the hanger. It was more traditional than the rest, that type of almost schoolgirl design that had been popular back in the forties.

‘Yes, I think this is a good choice.’ You smiled at Steve across the room before slipped his shirt off and selecting a satin brassier to go underneath the dress. You didn’t have any time to do anything to your hair other than try to somewhat tame it, to make it not completely look like you had just had sex. You pulled the silken stockings and matching blue kitten heels Steve handed you as he spoke.

‘Now Doll, I don’t want to see any funny business up there. I’m trusting you a lot, allowing you to have visitors this soon and I don’t want to see that trust go to waste. So, you will be polite, and nice, and you won’t mention anything bad to him. Do I have to clarify what I mean or do you understand me?’ His voice was stern, causing you to look up at him from the blue heels.

‘No Stevie. I understand. I will be the perfect hostess.’

He smiled briefly, murmuring to himself. ‘The perfect hostess.’ He definitely seemed to like that idea. ‘Good, come along. He’s waiting upstairs.’ Steve held out his hand for you to take and you linked your fingers with his, allowing him to lead you from the basement to the front door.

As he opened the large mahogany door, your eyes took a moment to adjust, the harsh sunlight stinging your eyes as you blinked. From all of your time down in the basement you had forgotten how warm the sun was, how a gentle breeze could run through your hair, making it fly around your face. You were too startled by the outside world to hear Steve or even pay the stranger any attention and when Steve pulled you back from the door, swinging it closed gently you found liquid pooling in your eyes.

It was only the not-so-gentle squeeze of Steve’s hand that brought you back, reminded you of what was at stake, and hastily you tried to blink away the tears, plastering a smile onto your face as you took in the man before you. If you hadn’t been so used to Steve and his impressive physique, you may have been intimidated by the man’s large build but as it stands, it was his eyes that intimidated you the most. They were slightly lighter than Steve’s more of a crystal blue, the dress Steve had picked out for you making more sense as you realised the colours must have matched nearly perfectly yet you couldn't be sure as he was squinting, analysing you. It felt as though he could read your soul in just one look and you weren’t sure if he liked what he found.

You were snapped from your rumination by Steve’s strong voice. ‘Sweetheart, this is Bucky. He is my oldest friend; my best friend. And of course, Buck, you already know my girl.’ He already knew you? Grabbing his outstretched hand as Steve introduced him, you realised he must have been the friend that came to visit a little while ago, that just left you down in the basement with Steve. You wouldn’t find an ally in this man.

You plastered your most gracious smile on, shaking his hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ You barely heard his ‘likewise’ as Steve led you both into the lounge room, Bucky taking a seat where you had just been sitting, his shoes on the soft carpet where you had been on Steve. You forced yourself to look away as you say in the loveseat across from him, your mind spinning as Steve retreated to the kitchen for coffee and tea.

‘So… How are you?’ Bucky’s voice was rougher than you expected, lower too.

‘I’m good.’ Your response was clipped, edgy. You didn’t like being alone with him, you just wanted Steve back; wanted him to hold you and ensure you everything was fine. It hadn’t been until this moment that you realised just how much you had come to rely on your golden soldier.

‘How is he treating you?’ A scoff died in your throat as you tried to hold your composure, determined to pass this test.

‘He’s great.’ Your leg was jittering on the couch, your fingers dancing over the white skirt of your dress. ‘I’m happy.’ You threw that in for good measure and prayed that he would stop trying to talk to you. What could be taking Steve so long?

Bucky stewed as he analysed you. He didn’t need to be a former assassin to notice you were clearly nervous, your clipped answers, flickering eyes lingering on the hallway for too long but never glancing his way told him all he needed to know. You were scared, but not of Steve.

In fact, the moment he returned, taking the seat next to you, Bucky noticed a drastic shift in your manner. Your hand automatically sought out Steve’s, linking your fingers together while the other clutched the warm tea to your chest. Your breaths were more even, your leg less jittery as it pressed against Steve’s instead.

An almost unrecognisable pang hit Bucky in the chest as he watched you find solace in his best friend. If only Hydra hadn’t fucked him up so irreparably…

+

Steve clapped Bucky on the back, bidding him goodnight beside his car. ‘So? What did you think?’ Despite his heart already belonging to you, Steve still wanted Bucky’s approval, he wanted him to love you almost as much as he did himself, after all Bucky was the only family he had left.

‘She’s fantastic Steve, everything guys like us could have ever asked for growing up.’ A sigh of relief permeated the air as Bucky spoke, Steve’s breaths becoming lighter yet he could tell something was still plaguing his mind.

‘I’m so glad you approve… but… you don’t think what I’ve done, what I’ve put her through to get here is… irreparable? I just… I love her and I guess what I’m trying to say… Do you think that one day, maybe, she could love me too?’

An achingly long silence stretched between the two men, one lost in agony, the other in jealousy. It was finally broken when Bucky cleared his throat as he tried to clear his mind. ‘You still don’t know a thing about women. While she may not necessarily be at the love stage yet, and while what you did was beyond fucked up, she clearly cares for you. When you were gone, making the coffee in the kitchen, she was a wreck but the moment you came back, it was like she was a whole different person. She became chatty and bubbly under your guidance and then again when you were preparing dinner, it wasn’t so bad but she still shut down slightly, retreating back into herself. She needs you, she relies on you to keep her safe, to protect her, to know her. You two, you’re going to be just fine.’ He forced a smile as Steve took his words in, his shoulders slumping, his tense stance deflating.

‘Thank you Bucky, you have no idea just how much that means to me.’

‘I think I just might pal.’ With one final goodbye, Bucky got into his car, pulling out of the driveway of the suburban two story.

If only…

+

Steve watched as Bucky left, the red haze of his taillights slowly disappearing down the street along with Steve’s anxiety.

Just maybe everything would be okay.

Of course, just like usual Steve had thought too soon as a vibrating from his pocket pulled him from his thoughts. He only paused to stare at the caller ID for a second before answering, wondering what on earth Tony Stark needed.

+

Tags will be added in a reblog

XIII. The Mission 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

#Steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #steve x you #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #dark!steve rogers #Dark!Steve #dark steve #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!Captain america #dark captain america #dark captain america x reader #marvel #mcu #dark marvel #dark mcu #Dark!Marvel #Dark!verse #dark verse #honeyhan writes

[atleasttheresthis]

Project Partners (Song x Katara)

Happy day two of ATLA wlw week! This one is for the academia AU.

content warning: alcohol

@atla-wlw-week

"So, in conclusion, you and your partner will research one new surgical or oncological technique from the last five years on any of the cancer types I've included here. You'll have three weeks to complete the project." Professor Pakku pauses, lifts his eyes from his notes and turns them on the horde of bleary eyed, eight am lecture suckers in front of him. "Any questions?"

Song, who is just as tired and out of it as the rest of her classmates at 8:30 on a Monday, studies the powerpoint slide in front of her, struggling to write down all the project requirements before Professor Pakku moves on from the assignment and starts the day's lecture.

"Before you ask, Taedo," the Professor is saying from the front of the room, "no, I will not accept any late papers. If you would have read the syllabus I distributed at the beginning of the semester instead of no-doubt chucking into the garbage as I'm sure you did, you would know my policy on late assignments."

Song grins to herself as Taedo slumps down in his seat. Pakku is something of a hardass, but since Song mostly keeps to herself and stays out of his way, she's never had a problem with him. Besides, his course on cancer treatment was super popular among the pre-med and nursing students. It would take a lot more than verbal abuse to get Song to give up her seat in the course. She needed the elective to finish her third year of the nursing program at Ba Singh Se University, and since she wanted to work at a cancer ward after graduating, this course was practically a requirement.

From the front row, Katara pipes up. "You could just put the syllabus online."

Pakku sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose while Song rolls her eyes. For the entire semester, Katara seems to have made it her mission to make the Professor's life difficult, and it drives Song crazy.

"I suppose I could, but my ancient and old-fashioned ways make it quite difficult for me to use the computer, or so you told me in class last week." Even from her spot in the middle of the room, Song can hear Katara harumph. 

"Any other questions?" Professor Pakku asks, then sighs when Katara shoves her hand into the air. "Yes, Katara?"

"I've noticed you didn't include the breast as part of the infected areas we could study," she begins, but the professor interrupts her.

"Yes, thank you for proving, yet again, that you know how to read," Pakku says easily. Song winces. Lately she’s found herself unable to focus in this class, devoting her energy instead to either silently cheering on Professor Pakku in his misguided quest to get Katara to be quiet for more than five minutes so he can teach, or silently (always silently) commending Katara as she points out Pakku’s rampant sexism. Their relationship confuses the shit out of her, and while right now she finds herself inclined to defend the student (because wow, that was a really asshole thing to say, Professor), she thinks both of them go way too far.

Either way, it’s threatening to wreak havoc on her GPA.

Unaffected by Pakku’s rudeness, Katara presses the point. “That’s sexist,” she says bluntly, and Song finds herself nodding. “We should be able to study whatever cancers we want to. Just because you want to ignore all the stuff that only affects women doesn’t mean we want to.” She stops for a moment, considers. “Also, will we be able to pick our own partners?"

Pakku seems to have lost his temper. "You know what, just for that, everyone else gets to pick their partners, except for you. You will be paired with," he stops, consults the class list on his podium. "Song Ma."

Um, what? Song lets out a breath, unable to believe her shit luck. Everyone in the course turns around to stare at each other, wondering who the unlucky girl is until they catch Song's face. She knows she's got a completely disbelieving, what the fuck look on, so much so that Pakku actually smiles when his eyes catch hers. He gives her a small shrug, evil grin totally upstaging his non-apology. "Good luck," he adds helpfully.

Katara sniffs, turns back around in her chair. Song resigns herself to the inevitable. It's obvious there's no getting out of this one.

***

Song finds Katara waiting in the hallway after class. Slugging her backpack over one shoulder, Song steps forward and introduces herself. "Hi. I'm Song." She briefly considers holding out a hand, then stops herself, raising it to stifle a yawn instead. 

"I know," Katara says snobbishly. Jesus, this is going to be like pulling teeth, isn't it? Biting back a rude reply in kind, Song asks "do you have any ideas for what you want to research?"

"I want to research the use of dye to identify positive lymph nodes in breast cancer patients," Katara says immediately, and Song sighs. "Look, I know you're apparently cool with being on Pakku's bad side, but I don't need a shitty grade on this report because you can't pick your battles and have to stick it to the man whenever you have the chance." Katara looks a bit surprised by her outburst. Whatever. Song's grade is on the line, she's not going to risk it for some girl with a death wish, even if she is really pretty, skin somehow looking shiny and gorgeous even under the fluorescent lights of the hallway.

"I'll talk to Pakku," Katara offers begrudgingly. "See if he'll officially allow us to go beyond the project parameters."

"Fine, go ahead," Song relinquishes. Katara hadn't asked if she had any ideas, but whatever. "Your funeral."

Katara cracks a smile. "Is that okay, or did you want to research something else?" 

Song is so surprised by Katara's thoughtfulness, by her apparent ability to reach into Song's head and pluck out her inner monologue, that she merely shakes her head. That's alright, though. Lymph nodes are fascinating enough.

"Cool," Katara says. "I'll swing by his office hours today and let you know how it goes." Song nods, watches Katara walk away, and realizes she never even gave the other girl her phone number. 

Oh well. They have three weeks to work it out, and she'll see Katara in class on Wednesday.

Song shrugs to herself, walks out of the biology department toward the squashy chairs on the ground floor of the science building to get some reading done before her next class.

Later that day, when she's studying with her housemate Bohei after lunch, an email pops up on her phone.

Hey Song,

I talked to Pakku, he'll let us do the breast cancer project without deducting anything from our grade. 

Let's find a time to talk soon so we can figure out how we should divide the work. I can handle the research part of it if you want to handle the conclusion and summary.

-Katara

Song is furious. Why is Katara relegating her to the easy stuff? Doesn't she think Song can do good work?

"What's wrong?" Bohei, one of her housemates, asks from across the table. Song reads her the email. "Isn't that the stuck up girl that's always getting into fights with the professor? Sucks that you're paired with her."

"The professor put us together," Song explains. "Ugh. Why won't she let me do the work on this project? I'm smart, I can handle a research paper!"

"I actually think you're in a golden situation," Bohei says, reaching over to snag a few of Song's chips from an open bag on the table. "Just let her do all the work, if she cares about it so much you'll probably get a good grade, free A for the project."

Song shakes her head. "No, I want to help, I can do it. Why doesn't she think I can help?"

"Why do you care?" Bohei counters, raising an eyebrow. A great question, but Song is not in the mood for self-reflection.

"I, I don't," Song splutters. "I don't care, I just, I just don't think it's fair that she's doing all the work alone! And besides, how do I know she'll do a good job?"

"Okay," Bohei says, giving Song a look that says she knows what a flimsy excuse that is. Why does Song care what Katara thinks of her? She's just some know-it-all who can't leave well enough alone. Song emails her back, tells her she's free for dinner, and gets a reply a few minutes later that Katara will meet her at the dining hall. Song tries to push the other girl out of her mind, turning back to her chemistry notes. 

It's no use. By the time dinner rolls around, Song is simmering with indignation over Katara's assumption that she couldn't help with the project. She packs up her stuff, trying to tune out Bohei's pointed questions (the other girl had gotten over her instinct to leave Song alone about it and has instead spent the rest of the afternoon asking if Song likes Katara, like, like-likes Katara???) and begrudgingly makes her way over to the dining hall. After swiping her school ID to get in, she sees Katara at a table with a plate of food. Sighing, resigning herself to a confrontation, Song heads over there, dropping her bag onto an empty seat.

"Hey," she says, monotone, and Katara looks up. "Hi," she says back, a bit startled, but Song's not exactly giving her the best attitude.

"How was your day," Song asks rhetorically, and Katara raises an eyebrow but whatever, Song is just being polite.

"It was okay," Katara answers, tossing some of her long brown hair over her shoulder. Song likes it this way, better than when she puts it in the long braid that snakes down her back. "How was yours?"

An awkward moment, where Song has lost herself staring at Katara's hair. She realizes the other girl has asked her a question, and gives herself a shake. "It was fine too," she answers quickly. 

"Do you want to get a plate before we start working?" Katara asks.

Song agrees, gets up to scour the dining options for something to eat. She ends up with a bowl of pasta, some carrots, and a glass of water. Reaching Katara again and sitting back down, Song pulls her laptop and notebook out of her bag before spearing a piece of pasta and angrily throwing it into her mouth.

Katara, oblivious this time to her anger, has gotten out a laptop of her own. "So, I already made a google doc, I'm sharing it with you now," she says, and Song moves to check her email, loading the document on her screen. "Like I said, I can handle the research part and you can do the conclusion, is that okay?" Katara asks, not even looking up from her computer.

Song takes a deep breath. "No, it's not really okay," she answers in a rush. That makes Katara look up. "I can help with the research part too, I think I can handle it," she says drily. "I just don't think it's fair for you to do so much of the work," she tacks hurriedly, wanting Katara to think she's doing this for more noble reasons than wanting the other girl to think she's smart.

"Oh, it's okay, I don't mind doing the work," Katara brushes Song off, turning back to the laptop. 

Song groans internally. "Katara. I can help. I want to do some of the work on this project, it's my grade too," she reminds her.

Katara looks at her skeptically. "Alright," she concedes finally. "Here, want to look over some of the sources I've already gathered?"

Song takes another bite, nodding. They spend the rest of the evening compiling journal articles and studies on the use of dye to identify positive and negative lymph nodes in the armpit. It's not half as bad as Song thought it might be, both girls are focused on the work, and after an hour and a half they have enough to start working on the paper. Song drafts a preliminary outline, which Katara approves of after making only one or two small changes, and then they call it a night, agreeing to meet up again later that week. Song packs up her bag feeling good, they got work done. And she's definitely proved to Katara that she's smart enough to hold her own. Not that she cares about any of that.

***

As the week goes on, Song finds herself enjoying her study sessions with Katara more than she'd like to admit. For all her sharp edges in class, she's surprisingly laid back when she talks with Song. She's got a sharp sense of humor, and the way she vivisects Pakku and some of the other asshole idiots in their class causes Song to nearly pitch a fit. About the work itself, she's pretty anal, but Song's own standards are exacting themselves, so it's not like she can complain.

They meet again on Wednesday, but it's on Friday that Katara tells her that she's pre-med and plans to become a breast cancer surgeon. Her mother died of breast cancer, and she wants to work so other people don't suffer like she did. It only seems natural to tell her about her father's fatal car accident, in turn. 

"Is that why you want to become a nurse?" Katara asks quietly. She doesn't say she's sorry, and neither does Song. What good would that do?

Song blows out a breath. "Maybe?" she offers. "I don't know. I just know that I'm good at this, I'm good at helping people when they're hurt, and if I can do it, shouldn't I?"

Katara nods. "I understand," she says, and Song gets the feeling that she really does.

***

By Friday night it becomes obvious to both Song and, unfortunately, Song's housemates, that their girl is quickly becoming enraptured with Katara. "What do I do?" Song moans into a chocolate chip cookie that D'wei made to cheer her up.

"I thought she was annoying," he asks, topping up his glass of cheap, Barefoot wine, before handing the bottle to Song. 

"No, she's still annoying," Bohei chimes in. The three are sitting in their kitchen, Bohei painting her nails at the table and Song in the chair next to her while D'wei perches himself on the countertop. 

"But she's annoying in a hot way," Song whines. She gives herself a generous glass of wine, her third of the evening, then slumps over the table, cheek pressed against the wood.

"Haven't you only met with her like, twice?" D'wei asks. Song opens her mouth to respond, but Bohei beats her to it. 

"D'wei, come on. Song's a, you know," and she holds her wrist at shoulder height and bends it so her arm flops over.

Song chuckles, face mashed into the table.

"A what?" D'wei asks, and Bohei rolls her eyes.

"A lesbian," Song mumbles. "Exactly," Bohei says, nudging Song's head with her elbow. "Falling in love inside thirty seconds, that's classic lesbian behavior, you should know that."

"That's our M.O.," Song agrees. "Song's done that four times in the past year and half," Bohei continues.

"And once with a boy, but we don't talk about that," Song says. "But Katara's different, I can tell."

"She's stupid beautiful, I'll give you that," Bohei adds, capping her nail polish and blowing on her nails to dry.

"I know," Song grumbles, shoving the rest of the cookie in her mouth. "How do I tell her I like her?"

Bohei shrugs. "You could play 'girl in red' while you guys study, that will probably clue her in," D'wei suggests.

Song wrinkles her nose. "Too obvious," she answers. "Japanese Breakfast, then?" he asks.

Song thinks on it. "That one might work, actually."

"Hope so, or else you'll just have to pine from afar," Bohei stands up, blowing on her nails to dry them. "Or grow a pair and tell her you like her. Are we watching a movie or not?"

"We're watching," D'wei says decidedly, while Song moans, hopping off the counter and pulling Song into the living room by the wrist. "Don't worry, we'll watch something that's not about romance so you won't feel bad."

Song scoffs but settles herself on the couch between them nonetheless. D'wei's assurance turns out to be a complete lie, and they watch Pride and Prejudice, but whatever, Song's totally not thinking about Katara while the movie plays.

"Hey, Song, do you want Katara to stroll determinedly toward you through the morning mist wearing that exact unbuttoned shirt?"

Shifty silence from Song. "She does! D'wei, she does!"

"It would be super romantic," Song mumbles.

"Holy shit! Dude, you'd better tell her how you feel, or your ovaries will shrivel up!"

Eye roll. "I'm pretty sure you can only say that about people with dicks, Bohei, it's not like Katara's going to get me pregnant."

"But you want her to!"

***

On Friday, the week after their project was assigned, Song blinks the rain out of her eyes, holds her phone to her chest to keep it relatively dry under her bowed head and stares blearily at Google maps. Picking her head up she squints at the street signs, turns left, and then finally spots a sign saying "The Jasmine Dragon" above what looks like a small but cozy shop across the street. Grateful to have finally found the place, after trekking halfway across the city. Song had finished her exam earlier than expected, and with her and Katara's project deadline coming ever closer, she'd texted the other girl to see if she had any free time to work on it right now. Katara had agreed, saying she was studying with some friends at a place called the Jasmine Dragon. So here Song is.

Hurrying into the shop, Song relaxes after getting out of the rain, pulls the hood of her jacket down and snakes her braid out from where it's pressed uncomfortably between her backpack and her shoulder blades. The Jasmine Dragon tea shop is well-lit against the downpour, filled with comfortable armchairs dotting the room in twos and threes, with one long table at the back of the shop. Seated at the table are a few people working quietly by themselves, along with Katara and what must be her friends, working not at all quietly. Katara is sitting next to a boy who looks enough like her to be her brother, along with two people Song doesn't recognize, a boy with a completely bald head and shorter girl next to him. And--

"You!" Song shouts, then looks around herself, embarrassed, as she realizes how loud that was. Blushing a bit, she takes two sharp strides toward the table and says "you!" again, in a much smaller voice.

The boy on Katara's other side, with a nasty burn scar across his face and a Jasmine Dragon employee apron on, mutters "oh, shit," under his breath.

Katara is looking at Song, confused. "Hey Song, this is Zuko. How do you--"

"You're the asshole who stole my bike!" Song says angrily. Bike thief, whose name is apparently Zuko, goes bright red.

The shorter girl across from him lets out a laugh. "Oh man, Zuzu, you have the worst luck!"

"Shut up, Toph," Zuko mutters, eyes anywhere but on Song.

Katara lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Just once," she says, "just once, I would love it if someone recognized you from something nice you did for them, instead of whatever dick move you pulled."

"Never gonna happen, sweet sister!" The boy next to her crows happily. "Our Zuko was an asshole in a previous life!"

"Last year was a previous life?" The bald boy says, half-serious, and then high fives Katara's brother uncertainly.

"Fuck all of you," Zuko says. "He's doing his best," the shorter girl says dramatically, then slugs Zuko in the arm. 

"Wait," the bald kid says, turning to address Song. "Are you sure it was him?"

"Yes," Song says through clenched teeth, "I saw him leave a party at my house on my bike last year!"

It was one of the only parties Song and her housemates had thrown that semester. From what she can remember, Song spent a good portion of the evening trying to get close to the moody boy who was drinking alone in her kitchen. She had definitely tried to flirt with him, she remembers, cheeks going red, before Bohei had pulled her away to do shots. At the end of the night Song had passed out on their living room sofa. She woke up some time before morning at the sound of the door closing to see the moody boy, who was definitely Zuko, pick the lock on her bike and ride away on it, but she was too drunk to realize what had happened. In the morning, it was too late. Nobody else seemed to remember the boy, and she had no luck finding it.

Back in the tea shop, the bald boy is trying to defend Zuko. "That doesn't sound like something Zuko would do," the kid says, a bit soothingly. 

"No, it does," Katara counters. The shorter girl nods while Zuko hangs his head. 

"Yeah, that was me." He admits. "Look, I'm really sorry. I...was in a bad place that year, and I was super drunk, and--"

"Yeah, whatever, " Song says, uncomfortable with his honesty. "Are you going to give it back or not?"

"Of course he's going to give it back," the bald kid says enthusiastically. Song wonders who died and made him group spokesperson.

"Wait, do you even still have it?" the other girl asks. Song notices that she hasn't been making eye contact or even turning her head to look at anyone talking. She catches eye of the cane lying next to the girl's chair and realizes she must be blind.

"Yeah," Zuko says uncomfortably. "I woke up the next morning and, I, uh, didn't know what to do with it? So I just...kept it in the garage." He runs a hand through his hair uncomfortably. "It's still there."

Song, who has dropped her bag to the floor and started peeling off her jacket, throws up her hands. "You haven't even been using it?"

Zuko coughs. "No?"

"Ugh!" Song shouts, furious that he didn't even seem to need the bike.

"Look, I'll, I'll bring over to your place tomorrow," Zuko says placatingly, standing up. Song shoves past him and falls into his empty chair. "Yeah, maybe you should have tried doing that eight months ago, when you drunk-stole it from me," she deadpans, before turning to Katara. "Are we working on our project or not?"

Katara looks like she wants to keep laughing at Zuko's expense, but stops herself when she sees Song's face. "Uh, yeah, sure. Guys, this is Song, from my biology class. Song, this is Aang, Toph, and my brother Sokka." She points to the bald kid, the girl, and the dark-skinned boy next to her in turn. "You already know Zuko."

Song grits her teeth. "Song, I--" he starts helplessly.

"Zuko!" Someone calls from the back of the shop. "A little help back here?" From behind her, Song hears Zuko sigh. "I'll see you guys later," he says, before walking away. "Let us know if anyone else accuses you of something awful!" Sokka calls out after him gleefully.

"Or if something else from your dark past comes up to bite you in the ass! I want to start a facebook album!" Toph adds, and Song snickers, despite herself.

"Sorry about Zuko," Katara says carefully. "He was in a really bad place last year."

"So I've heard," Song says drily, fishing out her notebook and a pen.

"I'll make sure he gives you the bike back," Sokka offers. Song nods minutely.

"Why don't you guys get out of here," Katara says after a moment. "It's not like you're getting any work done."

Sokka opens his mouth, clearly affronted, but Song beats him to it. "No, you guys don't have to go, it's okay," she starts, but Aang catches onto Katara's meaning and has started packing up his stuff.

"No, Katara's right, we'd just waste your time," he says easily. "Come on, Sokka, Toph, we can study at my place."

Sokka sighs dramatically, but helps Toph get all her stuff together nonetheless. "Ugh, fine." Then he shoots his sister a sharp grin. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Katara splutters indignantly while Toph cackles. Song can’t even begin to guess what that means. “Nice to meet you, Song!” Aang calls over his shoulder before tailing Toph and Sokka out of the shop.

Song raises an eyebrow in Katara’s direction. “Ignore my idiot brother,” she says hastily, dark skin growing rosy with a blush. Maybe Song does know what that means.

“Do you want something to drink?” Katara continues quickly. “The weather is so shit outside, a hot drink will probably make you feel better.”

“I’m studying to be a nurse, Katara,” Song says, rolling her eyes but letting a grin escape so the other girl knows she’s playing. katara’s face lights up as she sticks her nose in the air. “Well, I’m studying to be a doctor, so I don’t know what they cover in nursing school.” She gets out of her chair and flounces towards the counter.

“You don’t even know what I want,” Song says half-heartedly, eyes on Katara’s ass. “You’ll like what I get you,” she says airily, half-turning to catch Song in the act of looking. Song blushes again, but boldly meets Katara’s eyes. The other girl smirks, before turning to the woman at the counter and rattling off something Song can’t hear.

When Katara returns a few minutes later, steaming mug of tea in her hand, Song has unpacked her laptop and is half-looking over the work they’d done so far. She passes the mug to Song. “Thanks,” she says gratefully, warming her hands against the bright red ceramic of the mug. “How did you guys find this place?” She asks, fighting off a yawn. Holding onto the warm tea has suddenly reminded her how tired she is.

Katara takes the seat across from her, picking up her own cup. “Zuko’s uncle owns it,” she explains. “Zuko’s really sorry about your bike, I know he is,” she says earnestly, casting a glance across the shop at him moving around in the back. “He went through a lot in the past year, he used to be such an asshole, even to us,” she adds. “But he’s alright now.”

Song doesn’t know what to say, can’t quite believe her, so she takes a sip of her tea instead. “Oh, it is good,” she said, surprised. Katara smiles in satisfaction. “Uncle Iroh thought you were a fruit tea girl, but I told him different. Guess I was right.”

It’s cheesy, it’s so, so high school, but Song’s stomach flutters at the idea of Katara knowing what sort of tea she’d like. It's got her tongue tied, but Katara saves her by asking about her day.

“It was good,” she answers. “I finished my international relations exam early, that’s why I texted you that I had time.”

“Well look at you, smartypants," Katara says, and Song scoffs. They spend the rest of the afternoon like that, sort of but not really working on their project, until Sokka comes back to pick up Katara and gives Song a ride back to her apartment.

"See you tomorrow!" Katara calls through the car's open window. Song shoots her a confused look. "When Zuko and I come to return your bike!" She reminds her. Song agrees, but doesn't think anything will come of it, which is why she's so surprised to open her apartment door at eight o'clock the next morning to see Zuko and Katara in her doorway, bike in hand.

"Good morning!" Katara says triumphantly, and Song stares. Katara, she, she looks so incredible Song can hardly believe it. Her hair is perfect and shiny, and she looks like she's wearing extra eye makeup. Zuko, meanwhile, looks like how Song feels, bedraggled in comparison. "Told you we'd bring you the bike!" Katara says excitedly, while Zuko yawns next to her. "Here, here you go," he says, steering the bike into Song's apartment. "Uh, thanks," Song answers slowly, leaving the bike by the door.

"Put your shoes on, we're taking you for breakfast," Katara instructs, and before she realizes what's happening Song finds herself in the back of Zuko's car, sitting next to Katara and behind a girl Song vaguely knows from one of her politics courses last semester, who Zuko introduces as his girlfriend. Song thinks Mai is way too cool a girl for someone like Zuko, but keeps her mouth shut.

"Go to the diner on fifth," Katara instructs, and in front of Song Mai scoffs. "No way, their coffee is garbage."

"All diner coffee is garbage," Zuko offers from behind the wheel, and behind him Katara says "I want pancakes. We went to your shitty coffee shop last time."

"It's not shitty, you just don't appreciate aesthetics," Mai sniffs.

"It's overly minimalist and their cake is bad," Katara says bluntly, before turning to Song. "What do you want to do?"

Song blinks, slightly overwhelmed at being thrust into this dynamic of people who were clearly comfortable in each others' lives. But also, it's early, so: "I want to eat eggs."

"Diner it is, you're outvoted, Mai!" Katara crows happily.

"You didn't ask me what I wanted," Zuko protests, already steering the car in the direction of the diner. "We know you're happy with either one," Mai explains.

"Always happy when I'm with you," he says to Mai, and Song can see his face in profile, he's offering Mai a small smile. Mai meets him halfway and gives him a quick kiss. 

"Eyes on the road," Katara interrupts, pulling a face to make Song laugh in the backseat. It occurs to her that this might be something of a double date.

And it's definitely a date, she realizes, or she hopes, because Katara has squeezed herself next to Song onto the vinyl covered cushion of the diner booth, and keeps knocking her knees into Song and, once, even holding her thigh flush against Song's. She eats off Song's plate with no remorse, encourages Song to do the same to her, and quietly flirts with Song for most of the meal. It's enough to give Song a pleasant whooping feeling in her gut that lasts the whole day.

The restaurant environment is certainly helping, Song loves diners. The way they all sort of look the same, the ridiculously long menus, the poor lighting, all of it. It's her and her mother's favorite place to go, and when she lived at home they used to go there almost every day, even if it was just for a cup of bad coffee. Song feels at home here, which is why she loves the diner so much.

Besides Katara's flirting, Song actually has a good time enjoying Mai and Zuko's company. Maybe he really was a different person when he stole her bike and ignored her at her own party, because now he's making an effort to include her in the conversation, filling in the gaps into which she might have fallen, being the odd one out in a group of friends who knew each other so well.

"We went to school together first," Zuko is explaining, gesturing to himself and Mai. "A different school, actually, one our parents wanted to go to. It was really close to our hometown. Caldera College."

"Our parents are in business together," Mai says. "Well, my father works for his father."

"And my father wanted me and my younger sister, Azula, to work for him too. But that, uh, didn't work out…" his hand moves to the scar on his face, and Song stifles a wince. "So I left the old school and came here. Well…"

"His Dad cut him off," Katara butts in. "But it was actually a good thing, here I met these guys." Zuko says with a small smile.

"Didn't start off as a good thing," Katara mutters, and here Zuko blushes, tilts his face to the table. "Yeah, those were my uh, my bike stealing years," he grimaces another apology at Song.

Katara yelps, it seems like Mai has kicked her under the table. "But we're good now," she adds brightly.

"Like I have to keep reminding you," Zuko says, raising his eyebrows, and now it's Katara's turn to look chagrined. Song wonders at their need to air their dirty laundry in public.

"And then I decided fuck my parents' business and followed Zuko here," Mai declares, setting her hand on top of Zuko's.

Song nods. It's a lot to process. "What about your sister?" she asks, wondering if this is the right question. 

Maybe not. The emotion runs from Mai's face like colors in the wash, her mouth settles into a dull line. Zuko sighs, and, next to Song, Katara huffs out a breath. "We're working on her," Katara explains.

"My Dad was working her to the bone, putting way too much pressure on her after I left," Zuko says. "Especially after I left," he adds to himself, and on the table Mai squeezes his hand. "She snapped, dropped out," Mai picks up from him. "We're trying to make sure she gets the help she needs."

"That's really hard, I'm sorry you have to go through that," Song offers, and Zuko nods. "She'll be okay," he says, face determined.

An awkward pause, but the first of the meal and the plates are nearly clean, so that's a success. "You don't have any siblings, right Song?" Katara asks.

"Mm-mm," Song shakes her head. "Just me and my mom," and Katara nods, which she was expecting, but then Zuko does too, and maybe they have more in common than she'd thought.

"Mai has a younger brother," Katara volunteers, and Mai rolls her eyes but tells them an adorable story about Tom Tom regardless.

"That was...nice," Song says truthfully, when they've dropped her back at her place and she's got Katara on her doorstep.

"They're alright, huh? I thought you'd like them," Katara says happily.

Song, feeling warm and full of eggs and lukewarm coffee, has the confidence to say "maybe they're not the only ones I like," eyes catching Katara's before dropping to her doorstep.

"Yeah," Katara says softly, hand reaching towards hers. "I--"

She's cut off by the sound of the horn. Katara turns and Song sees that Mai's got a hand on the horn while Zuko sits by looking pained. Katara gives them the finger before turning back to Song. "I like you t--"

The horn again. "Katara, let's go!" Mai shouts, and Katara rolls her eyes and Song smiles. "I'll see you at our next study session?" she offers.

"Yeah," Katara says, looking relieved, "I'll see you then." She waved goodbye, bounds off the porch toward the car, opens the back door while yelling "jesus christ, Mai, I'm here, calm down."

Song unlocks the door of her house, still smiling, and heads inside.

***

Katara and Song meet, one last time, to go over the paper. It takes them ages, both of them are deliberately dragging it out. They go through it one line at a time, taking turns reading the paragraph aloud and double, triple checking the references. When it's finally over, i's crossed and t's dotted, Katara's hand hovers over the trackpad of her laptop, mouse on the 'submit' button. "Are we ready?" she asks one more time.

"You're sure it's cool with Pakku if we do breast cancer?" Song clarifies, and Katara scoffs. "Oh, actually Song, I forgot to tell you, he's not cool with it and we're going to fail. Whoops!"

"Okay, okay," Song laughs. "We're ready, do it."

Katara takes a deep breath, clicks the trackpad. Project over.

"It's in the lap of the gods now," Song comments, and Katara nods, shutting her computer.

"Now what should we do?" she asks, and for the first time she's almost shy. It's utterly adorable, the light blush under her eyes, and Song steals herself and says "well, I'd like to kiss you now."

Katara stiffens beside her. "You should definitely do that," she says hastily, and Song laughs, reaches up slide her hand into Katara's hair and leans in, catching her lips.

It's perfect. Katara tastes like everything Song had imagined plus more. When she pulls back Katara chases her lips. "I think you should give that another go," she murmurs, and Song laughs again, happy to oblige.

It's even better the second time. They kiss for a while, lazy, and afterward, when they're resting their foreheads against each other, Katara speaks up.

"I think I'm going to take you on a proper date," she muses.

"I'd like that," Song answers happily. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

#kira writes #avatar the last airbender #song #katara #song x katara #zuko #mai #zuko x mai #atla wlw week #atla #college au

[end-of-the-world-optimist]

The reason there’s a Snyder Cut is because Zack was replaced by Joss Whedon on the movie. As you know, Ray Fisher has alleged that Joss engaged in misconduct during the shoot. You worked with Joss on two seasons of “Dollhouse,” so I wanted to ask if you had any thoughts on the matter?

I wasn’t there during the time in question. I am sorry that anybody had to experience what it was that was described. Obviously, there’s one side of the story that we’ve heard. I don’t know that Joss has made any comments. As you point out, I worked with Joss fairly closely for a couple of years there. I didn’t see that behavior, and at the same time, as an actor, my heart goes out to anybody that had to endure that kind of treatment. We get treated as a second-class citizens frequently. But I did not see it, and I would be curious as to what [Joss’s] response to this has been.

I just hope everybody can move on with their lives, to be honest with you. As a former seminarian, and as somebody who has made mistakes, I’ve been on either side of that equation. Directors sometimes are insensitive to the needs or the feelings of actors, and sometimes actors are needy, and sometimes they are oversensitive. I know I can be. So that said, I hope whatever it was that happened, that people could move on, and — outside of some unforgivable thing — that people can forgive, not just each other, but forgive themselves. To say, “Look, I may have made this mistake in the past, now I know better, and I’m going to do better.” This was a different time. What was tolerable, five years ago, a year ago, is no longer, and we have to adapt to that. I think there’s some of that going on, that this is generational in some way. I know that Ray has it in himself to be better because of this, to be stronger, to have survived it. And I also hope that Joss can, too, that he can survive it, be the writer and creator that that he is and we can all be better because of it.

You’re looking at this with more empathy than I would say many observers have in light of what Ray has alleged, and what actors on “Angel” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” alleged about Joss on Wednesday. Were you experiences with Joss purely professional?

Yes. Utterly professional. I didn’t see any of that kind of behavior that I’m hearing about. But I’m in a different place. That kind of thing is not likely to happen to me, just cause I’m a big Black guy from the South Side of Chicago, that people are a little more circumspect in however they might think about treating me or talking to me. I think maybe we should give [Joss] another chance to respond, to see what his side of the story is. Not minimizing anybody’s story, not minimizing the experiences others had in any way. But I believe that we must learn to reconcile. And we must learn to move on.

We wouldn’t be able to take this into a court, per se, not really. What I’ve learned over the years is that two people could be telling the absolute truth from their point of view, and disagree on what those salient points are. Whatever those salient points are, I think that everything that I have heard so far — and that’s not everything — is recoverable. And so to the extent that it’s recoverable, let’s recover from it and keep moving.

Joss hasn’t commented, Ray hasn’t gone public with almost any details about what he says happened on “Justice League,” and WarnerMedia hasn’t revealed what the company learned in its investigation. So figuring out how to move forward is complicated in the absence of detail.

I agree, 100%. What I’ve been able to glean from the stories and the back and forth, such as it is — mostly the forth — is that nasty things were said, mean, insensitive things were said, that made certain people uncomfortable. That’s certainly something I’m familiar with actors having to endure. Indeed, that’s part of the process. People say “no” to us for any number of reasons, or tell us to lose weight or gain it or get taller or shorter or younger. That’s just the nature of the business — it’s a personal business. I am of the opinion that this is entirely fixable, and that really what needs to happen is a dialogue. I mean, the old standard in American jurisprudence is you have a right to face your accuser and to respond. I think that people have the right to present both sides of the case. In fact, it’s not just a right, I think it’s an obligation. I wonder what’s going to happen.

#harry lennix #joss whedon #variety

[so-sweet-nana]

Watch: Nana And Park Sung Hoon Show Off Their Chemistry Behind The Scenes Of Upcoming Drama “Memorials”

KBS 2TV’s upcoming Wednesday-Thursday drama “Memorials” (previously known as “The Ballot”) released a behind-the-scenes look at the drama’s script reading and poster filming sessions!

“Memorials” will be an office rom-com about a woman named Goo Se Ra (Nana) who gets involved in people’s problems, files complaints, comes up with solutions, and finds love at her local district office. Park Sung Hoon plays Seo Gong Myung, a civil servant who always plays by the rules.

The clip introduces the actors present at the script reading: Nana, Park Sung Hoon, Yoo Da In, Ahn Nae Sang, Ahn Kil Kang, Bae Hae Sun, Han Jun Woo, and Jang Hye Jin.

When asked to describe her character in a following interview, Nana says, “Goo Se Ra is someone who has no money, is under-qualified, and from a poor family, but her slyness and bluffing is the best.”

Park Sung Hoon describes his character Seo Gong Myung as someone who, on the outside, seems to be rough and is always sticking to the rules. He continues, “However, Seo Gong Myung has a humane side to him where he is soft-hearted and clumsy on the inside.”

Nana shows off her acting as Goo Se Ra during the script reading, reciting her lines about wanting to become a district representative who only works 90 days a year and introducing herself as candidate No. 5 from Mawon District. Ahn Gil Kang, who plays Goo Se Ra’s father Goo Young Tae, appears to be against Goo Se Ra’s antics, saying, “She’s a big talker like her mom.”

Later, Nana shares her feelings about the script reading. She says, “I was a little nervous because it was a full script reading, but I worked hard to focus as much as I had prepared. Our seniors led us well, creating a good atmosphere.”

Park Sung Hoon says, “Our overall chemistry was really good, as if we had worked together beforehand. I predict that the atmosphere on set will be comfortable and fun as well.”

The clip cuts to the poster filming, where Nana swings a baseball bat and makes cute expressions in front of the camera. Park Sung Hoon checks his watch diligently, portraying the rigid personality of his character.

When asked about the photo shoot concepts, Park Sung Hoon explains, “The concept was according to what fit our characters. We separately shot the rough and blunt sides to Seo Gong Myung and the reckless and joyful sides to Goo Se Ra. For our photo shoot together, we portrayed the ‘人’ character from the stamp you receive after voting.”

Park Sung Hoon then calls the chemistry between him and Nana as “fantastic,” making Nana laugh. He continues, “Even without saying anything, we understand each other.”

Park Sung Hoon adds, “In the drama, there are many scenes where Se Ra bothers Gong Myung. At first, Nana was being a little careful, but now she comes up with ideas that aren’t even in the script and starts to bother me in various ways.” He then jokes that Nana is a devil on the inside, quickly correcting himself to call her a rascal.

Park Sung Hoon wraps up the interview, saying about the drama, “We’re telling stories about how people live. I expect that there are topics that are cute and which you can lightly laugh at as well as those that can touch viewers. I hope that you can look forward to the drama and support it a lot!”

Source: (X)

#Nana #Park Sung Hoon #The Ballot #Memorials #After School #Orange Caramel

[imaginesmai]

Hvitserk Crush (AU) 2

So, here is the second part! I hope you like it! I’m so in love with this idea I might make something more. Not another part, just some one shot with this Hvitserk as the protagonist. What do you think?

Plot: Hvitserk is like a disney prince; funny, beautiful, kind... But you are not sure you are his princess.

Life with Hvitserk turned out to be perfect. You still lived with Ubbe, but you spent more time at Hvitserk’s apartment than at your own. Working in the bar kept you from being with him as much as you would want to and, even if at first you thought it would be a problem, Hvitserk was fully supportive and went to visit you whenever he could. Torvi and Ubbe were getting a little tired of your fuck-wherever-we-can way of life; if you thought they were bad before, now you were ten time worse. But not everything was a fairy tale and, although he didn’t do any wrong, a little fact was keeping you awake at nights.

-          It’s been nearly half a year, Torvi. -you complained to her. Both of you were laying in the sofa while Ubbe was trying to finish a university project with Alfred, a guy form his class.

-          He should have said something, I know. -Torvi agreed. -Maybe he is just waiting for the perfect time?

-          At this rate I will have his children first.

-          Can I say something? -Ubbe tried. He had been banned from the conversation you were having when he suggested you were overreacting. Alfred had to tuck under the desk to avoid your flying shoe.

-          No. -Torvi said.

-          You should just make out, I feel already out of this relationship. -Ubbe whispered.

-          I heard you Ubbe. -you said. -Anyway, how do I make him ask me?

-          Making him jealous. -Torvi looked at you in the eye, leaning forwards. -You hear me, you go to the tattoo salon, get the other guy, Magnus, to-

-          Are you hearing yourselves? -Ubbe scoffed, turning towards the sofa. -That’s my brother you are talking about.

-          Babe, you don’t understand. -Torvi smiled sweetly at her boyfriend. How you wished to have a partner like her. -It’s a severe situation. Level eight from ten probably.

-          An eight-what? What are you talking about? Alfred, help me.

-          I don’t know, man. -he laughed. -We gays don’t have that problem.

The problem wouldn’t be half as bad if you weren’t the paranoid shit you were. It all started two months ago, when you met Thora, a friend of Hvitserk. She was beautiful, cute and nice, you just couldn’t hate her. You were with Torvi when he introduced her to you. He told her, literally, “this is Y/N, my friend”. Friends. You looked at Torvi with wide eyes, but he didn’t notice it. Sure, he kissed you in front of her, he hold you hand that night and even sat you in his lap. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder if, for him, whatever you had was just an open relationship, a fuckbuddy one, or you were just spending time with each other.

-          Just ask him yourself. -Ubbe said before asking Alfred something about the world war. -He isn’t doing it on purpose. Just thinks you guys are already a couple, without labels.

-          That’s not how it works, Ubbe. -you said, plopping your head down. -I need to see that he wants me to be his girlfriend. That way I can know that he is mine and not fucking any other girl.

-          He is not- -Ubbe started but decided against it after a second. It was pointless.

You kept talking with Torvi for a while, and the boys eventually left. That night you were going out with Hvitserk again. Working until late was not cool, but he said he would pick you up at ten and have dinner with you in your break. Little things like that made you think that you were the luckiest woman alive, and sometimes they made you feel bad about thinking of him cheating of you. He was just too good to be true.

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That day’s shift had been horrible. There was a football game or something like that on the TV, so a lot of people came to the bar to see it. One of your co-workers had taken the day off for personal businesses, and the other one was stuck in the kitchen as a cook was missing for some unknown reason. That left you with the new boy, a tall and thin guy who was not older than eighteen years. You didn’t want him to get scared and run away on his first day, so you decided to attend groups while he just took the normal ones. Halfdan wasn’t helping much either; he just sat with a group of his friends and saw the match without helping any of you.

-          Halfdan? -you asked, getting closer to his desk. It was already half past ten, and you could see Hvitserk’s bike outside. -It’s my break time.

-          What? -he asked you over the loud people.

-          I told you when I arrived that I was going to take my break at ten. I’m going out, and someone needs to cover me. -you repeated.

-          Girl, you can’t go now. -he laughed. -There is a lot of people here.

-          But I need a break. -you whispered. You were tired and just wanted to hug Hvitserk.

-          I don’t care girl! If you don’t do you work, you are out.

-          Maybe you can cover me for a while? -you said, already feeling the tears in your eyes. Normally you weren’t that weak, but it was late, you had a shitty day and you were beyond tired.

-          What the fuck did you just say? -Halfdan got angry, and you knew you had screwed up. -Don’t fucking disrespect me, Y/N. I’m your boss.

-          But-

-          You are staying until this place close. -your eyes widened; your shift was supposed to end at twelve today. -And pray that I pay you all the hours. Fucking teenagers, you don’t know that respect is.

You stood there while you caught your breath before turning around. Halfdan was always harsh towards his employees. Once he made your co-worker Lizzie stay after she puked and fainted because of her pregnancy. So you kind of understood that you feeling sad and tired wasn’t at his top priorities. However luck smiled at you when the new guy, Rick you thought was his name, offered you to leave for a few minutes. Halfdan was too busy with the game to notice it, and he could manage the whole bar for ten minutes. The tears you had fought so hard to contain almost spilled out of gratefulness. You kept them at bay and took your coat, walking towards the exit. Hvitserk was sitting in his motorbike, with a lollypop hanging lazily from his gorgeous lips. He was checking something in his phone, and you felt bad that he had waited for so long just to see you.

-          Hey. -he looked up at your voice, and you smiled sweetly at him. -I’m sorry, there is a lot of people and I couldn’t get out earlier.

-          Hey beautiful. -Hvitserk said, putting you between his legs. -Doesn’t matter, now you are with me. There is this-

-          Yeah, about that. -his face fell and his eyes saddened like a kicked puppy. It was not the first time you had to cancel plans with him. -Loonies’ is full, and Halfdan wants me to work until it’s closed.

-          Again? -he scoffed. -Come one, you closed last Wednesday too!

-          I know. -you sighed. He had every right to be angry about it. -Maybe we can have lunch tomorrow?

-          And then you will tell me that you have to finish something at university. -Hvitserk answered. -Or that you are tired and you prefer to stay home.

-          I can’t help that my boss is an ass Hvitty!

-          Just tell him you are feeling ill Y/N. Or that you have an important event.

-          You think I didn’t try that already?

-          I haven’t seen you since weekend. -he said, looking at the ground.

In the six months you had been together, you discovered that Hvitserk was what you could call a touch-starved boy. You learned that, in his house, all his brothers had important jobs or an amazing quality. Bjorn was his father’s favourite, and even if he was in the illegal businesses, they had always been together. Ubbe was the smart one, the only brother who had gone to the university and probably be married and with children when he finish it. Sigurd was pretty famous in the music industry, he had a lot of friends, lovers and fans. And Ivar was a mommy’s boy; his mother only paid attention to him, which left Hvitserk alone most of the time. He was raised without hugs or kisses, just with the fights between brothers and the feeling of being the forgotten one. So you understood that he needed all type of love and affection he could get.

-          I’m sorry. -you told him, meaning that there wasn’t any chance of being together that night.

-          Do you want to take a walk? -he tried again after a silence.

-          I shouldn’t have come, Hvitty. Ryan is making me a favour and he’s covering me now, but I have to go back.

-          Okay. -he said. -I’ll…be at the studio. Call me or Ubbe when you are over.

You pushed yourself up in your toes and kissed his lips softly. It was obvious that he was angry, or disappointed, yet he didn’t deny you the kiss and moved his lips against yours. When you pulled back, he followed your mouth a few inches, not wanting to let go so soon. He sighed once again and, after one last hug, he put his helmet on and left without saying a word.

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If you didn’t know what you had before, after Wednesday night you didn’t know if you were even together anymore. When you finished your shift that night, you called Hvitserk a few times before deciding to try with his brother. Ubbe took you home, and next day your “boyfriend” told you that he was busy with a new design of a tattoo. He didn’t pick you up from university, neither saw or called you in the evening. You were getting worried on Friday morning, not because something could have happened but because he might have cut off whatever you had.

-          It has been a lot of time since we made a movie night. -Ubbe said, helping you to clean up after eating. -Do you have something to do tonight?

-          Not really. You are not going out with Torvi?

-          Nah, she has night shift.

Torvi was a doctor already. While it was nice because she had whole days off, she could be working nonstop for a week.

-          What do you suggest? -you asked. Hvitserk hadn’t told you anything about going out, and Halfdan surprisingly decided to give you a free weekend. -I’m not seeing the Notebook again.

-          First, it’s a wonderful movie who is worthy of all the time we see it. -Ubbe laughed. -And second, no, I was thinking about letting you choose today.

-          Oh god. -you faked surprise. -You are so generous. Are you okay? Are you really going to let me choose?

-          Depends of what, but yeah, I feel generous. -he smiled.

Afternoon passed quickly. You were locked in your room all the time, trying to finish some works and studying for finals. It wasn’t easy to concentrate with your mobile phone in your desk, but you didn’t put it away. A few hours ago you sent Hvitserk a message asking about how he was; he ignored it, just like the five you sent before that one. You were waiting for the green light in your phone to appear, a signal that you had a new message, but you only got a notification from new follower and an email from your teacher. When night came, you decided to turn off your phone to end the suffering and went to the living room. Ubbe was already there, in his goat printed pyjamas and with two bowls full of popcorn.

-          I have to ask, has Torvi seen that? -you said, sitting in the couch and wrapping yourself in a blanket.

-          Of course not. We may have been dating for a long time, but this is the line. -Ubbe put on the TV and searched for Netflix.

-          Then why do you have it? Why do I deserve this punishment?

-          It’s comfy, that’s why. I have taken out of the washing machine your old panties. They look like a granny’s one. -he laughed.

-          I guess we are even. What are you looking for? I thought it was my time to choose.

-          Just wait a second Y/N. -he kept scrolling until your favourite movie was on the screen. -I’m going to press start, I don’t want to hear any excited shouts, you can’t touch me and if you throw something at me because I talk, the film is over.

You knew that Ubbe wasn’t a big fan of action movies, so it was a big surprise when Mad Max came into view. He was being extra nice with you that day, and even if he warned you about over exciting about Tom Hardy, he was making a great effort with you, and you were grateful of that. The film started but you couldn’t concentrate on it. Hvitserk sad face was the only thing that filled your head, and fact that you didn’t know if you were dating before the fight made it worse. What if you lost him? What if he was with other girl in that moment, calling her beautiful and fucking her in his office? The TV switching off caught your attention, and you realised that Ubbe was facing you with a worried look.

-          You didn’t even look at the screen, Y/N. What’s the matter?

-          Nothing. -you sniffled, not noticing the dry silent tears in your cheeks. -Put that back, I was-

-          Is it because of my brother? -Ubbe was met with silence. -Look, I might not be as good in giving advice as Torvi, but I’m his brother. I know him better than what you think. What’s wrong?

-          We…kind of had our first fight on Wednesday. We were going out, and it had been a lot of days without seeing each other. But Halfdan made me work until late, so he came to the bar for nothing and got angry because we don’t have time to meet.

-          He understands that your work is a shit. -Ubbe told you. -Hvitserk is just sad that he can’t see you as much as he wants, not angry.

-          Then why hasn’t he called me since Wednesday? -you didn’t want to cry in front of him. -He could have called me or something. I’m not his girlfriend Ubbe, so he doesn’t have to be loyal. Hvitserk could be with another girl.

-          Look, my brother is complicated. -Ubbe cleaned your cheeks with his thumbs. -He really likes you, and I dare to say that he loves you too. Margarethe really hurt him, so he just needs you to make the first step.

-          Now he doesn’t talk to me. -you moved so that you were hugging Ubbe with the blanket long forgotten in the floor. -How am I supposed to do that?

-          Tomorrow is Saturday, and he opens the tattoo shop. Go and talk to him, I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding. And I like you as my sister in law, so I can kick his ass if it doesn’t go well.

You were grateful for having a friend like Ubbe. He might have horrendous pyjamas, talk too loudly and have an annoying cleaning obsession, but he was with you at your worst, and that was important. The TV was kept off and you two talked about everything, from your problem with Hvitserk to his relationship with Torvi. Ubbe told you that, even if it seemed perfect, it was far from it. Torvi dated his older brother for a while, she was older than your roommate, so he had a hard time asking her out. The first five times she said no, but he was persistent and ended up dating the beautiful doctor. She had rough shifts, handsome partners and a mature mind, and Ubbe fought hard for her. It was normal for couples to have fights, he told you, and you went to bed that night calmer than before.

Next morning you woke up earlier than ever, had coffee and by the time the tattoo shop was going to open you were there. It was a little disappointing that Hvitserk wasn’t there the first one, it was Magnus who was in charge that morning. You supposed he was asleep in his bedroom, but the fear of facing him with someone else didn’t let you check it. Magnus was a nice guy, a little strange and over excited. You had met him on a few occasions, and even if he knew you, it was awkward staying there without saying or doing nothing.

-          Are you…waiting for Hvitserk? -he asked from behind the counter.

-          Why would I be waiting for him? -you didn’t know why you said that, just not wanting to seem desperate for him.

-          I don’t know why would you be here otherwise.

-          Maybe I just wanted to hang out here for a while. -you answered as a girl walked through the door.

-          It’s a tattoo studio, Y/N. -Magnus gave you a weird look. -Are you getting a tattoo?

-          Yes.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn’t like tattoos. Well, Hvitserk ones yes, but not the process of getting one. Magnus looked at you with surprise and apologised. He told you that, after he was done with the girl, you could have your turn. Didn’t people wait months to get a tattoo? It seemed that luck was avoiding you that week. The girl was not old enough to get a tattoo for sure, she had this face where you could see that she still was in high school. Magnus didn’t care, however; he asked her about the money and, when she paid him, got into the black seat. You decided to wait inside of Hvitserk office; you had been there before while he was working, so he decided to give you an extra key for you to wait inside.

It was dark and surprisingly clean, so you rose the blinds and sat in his armchair. In his desk you could see a lot of papers, bills, a notebook with the reservations and some draws of new tattoos. He had the habit of drawing things in the strangest places. There was a beautiful dragon painted in a napkin of the restaurant you went two months ago, and he had drawn a pair of hands in a corner of one of your university papers. You smiled when you saw between all of that a photo of the two of you in the park. It was in summer, when you went with all of his brothers to have a picnic. Hvitserk was hugging you with one arm while with the other he held the camera, smiling, and you were laughing with your eyes closed trying to get away. When you put that back, you noticed a new draw, and your mouth hang open from the surprise. It was a beautiful rose, with a lot of details and with the word luck entwined with its steam.

-          Y/N? -Magnus knocked the door. -The girl is gone. Are you ready?

-          For what? -you asked, your eyes not leaving the beautiful draw.

-          The tattoo. -Magnus said. -Oh, I see.

-          What?

-          I didn’t know that one was for you. -Magnus answered, talking about the one in your hand. -Hvitserk has been working on it for two days.

-          Two days? That’s- but I mean, it’s not for- Magnus cut you.

-          Come on, I already have everything ready.

You doubted for a second before following him. It was a madness, you were going to get tattooed when you just wanted to fix things, and you were going to use a draw that was probably for another person. A girl, you thought. Magnus was sitting in his chair, waiting for you to tell him where did you wanted it. After thinking, you pointed to your forearm and he put some sticky substance in it.

-          Do you like it? -he asked once he draw it in your arm. It wasn’t the final result, just a pen drawing of it in your forearm. You kept looking at it for a while before nodding. -Good. Sit down and wait till I get the pistol ready.

-          Pistol? -you said, not moving. -What the fuck is a pistol?

-          It’s the thing I use to make tattoos Y/N. -he sighed, not feeling like being patience anymore.

-          But it’s going to hurt? -you asked.

-          Probably. Is your first tattoo. You will feel like a million of bee stings, that’s all.

-          That’s all? -you were panicking.

-          It’s not a big deal.

-          It is! You can’t just tell someone that is going to hurt, you are supposed to calm me!

-          Do you even want the tattoo? -Magnus looked at you annoyed.

-          I don’t know-

-          Y/N? -Hvitserk voice came from behind you.

-          Yes. -you said without looking back. -Yes, I want it.

Hvitserk appeared in your sight by the right. He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white v-line t-shirt. His hair was messy and his eyes sleepy. You had to prevent yourself from drooling.

-          What are you doing here? And what do you want? -he asked.

-          She is here for the tattoo. -Magnus said, trying to make you sit down on the chair.

-          Are you…getting a tattoo? -Hvitserk asked, feeling a little offended that you had come without calling him and that Magnus was the one doing it.

-          I saw this in your desk. -you said, sitting in the chair and handing him the draw.

-          This one is already requested. -he smiled although you didn’t see it. You knew it, there was another girl. Your words were cut by the sound of the tattoo pistol, suddenly too close to you.

-          Can you just stay the fuck still? -Magnus asked angry.

-          Magnus. -Hvitserk took his arm out of you a little too roughly. -Go somewhere else, I can do this.

-          But you have an appointment in-

-          You handle that. -Hvitserk said, sitting where Magnus was before.

Magnus said something under his breath before leaving towards the counter. Hvitserk took the drawing again and let it rest in the desk beside him. With care, he put your arm out and redid the drawing in your arm. You stayed in silence until he switched on again the pistol.

-          Are you sure? -he asked, trying to calm you down caressing your tight.

-          Yeah. If whoever was getting it is okay with it. -you answered, not looking at his eyes.

-          Won’t care.

It did hurt, but you felt proud of yourself for not letting any tear drop. Hvitserk’s hands were careful and slow, and you watched his face closely while he did it. He had his brown frowned in a cute way, his eyes fixed on the tattoo, the veins on his arms showing because of the effort and his mouth hanging open. You wanted to stop and to kiss the hell out of him, but the little stings in your forearm kept you from that. After half an hour the design was over, and you had a perfect rose tattooed in your arm.

-          It’s beautiful. -you said.

-          I know. It was…Well, I was going to make it to myself. -he laughed, scratching his neck.

-          What? -you looked at him. -It’s not for the girl?

-          What girl? -in that moment, Hvitserk seemed to understand it. -Y/N! I would never cheat on you.

-          It wouldn’t be cheating actually. -you whispered. -I mean, we are not a couple yet, we are just friends.

-          No, you are my girl. -he told you. -My beautiful and amazing girl.

-          You didn’t ask me. -you said, a smile forming in your face.

-          I didn’t think it was necessary. -he sat with you in the black seat, taking your hand in his. -The tattoo… I was thinking of you as I made it. I just, you are most important thing in my life, my luck. Life has not been to kind for me, but with you I have it all. I’m sorry if you thought you I was with another girl. I just want you, beautiful.

-          I’m sorry too. I know I work too much and- what the hell is that on your cheek? -because of the way you were sitting, you could see a purple bruise fading from his cheek, and after looking closely, you found a little bump in his forehead.

Hvitserk laughed and told you about what he had been doing that two days. Apart from designing that beautiful tattoo, he went to your bar in Tuesday morning to talk to your boss. He was angry that you didn’t get free days or enough breaks and ended up with a black eye because he sassed him out. Hvitserk didn’t want you to get angry with him, even if he did get you a free day, so he decided to hide until the bruises healed.

-          You are an idiot. -you smiled, putting your hand in his face and turning it to kiss him.

-          I know. -he took you by the hips and, with care of the tattoo, moved you into his lap. -And you are my beautiful tattooed girlfriend. As your tattoo artist, I recommend you to take care of that thing. So you should probably be as close to me as you can.

-          You don’t think I’m capable of curing it myself? -you laughed.

-          Who is going to kiss it better if you live in your apartment? -you were going to argue but Hvitserk shut you with a kiss. -Listen, we can both live here, we already are. So just move your things here. You don’t have to pay me, and you can quit your shitty job.

-          I can’t live for free, Hvitty.

-          Then be my sexy secretary.

Living with Hvitserk sounded good, better than good. And leaving your job even better. You giggled and kissed him again, not getting tired of his lips. After a while, it was a full make out session, his hands in your ass and yours tugging his hair. You heard Magnus complaining from the other part of the tattoo shop, but you didn’t care. You had your boyfriend between your arms (and legs), a new life ahead of you and a wonderful tattoo in your arm. Yeah, you did have a big crush on the tattoo artist.

Tags:

@supernaturalvikingwhore

#imaginemai #vikings #vikings imagine #vikings x reader #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe #hvitserk #one shot #vikings one shot #torvi #ubbe ragnarson #hvitserk white shirt #hvitserk ragnarson #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk one shot #au #tattoo artist

[wanda-porter]

TEXT 📲 SAM EVANS

WITH : Sam Evans ( @gfn-sam-evans)

DATE & TIME: September 3rd - 4th.

WP: So i know anime date night is on tuesday, but would you like to be my +1 to game night on wednesday? WP: Please, please, please, please? SE: What game night?? WP: Finn is making his annual game night and he told us that we could bring partners! WP: And I clearly thought you wanted to win so I thought you could be mine.

SE: I do like to win. What type of games? Cards? Board? Sports? WP: Cards and board games and karaoke. I also gotta sing so do you wanna miss that? SE: A karaoke competition? Hmm. That as a duet or solo? SE: I used to be in choir and we compete tons. SE: I’ll cheer you on if it’s solo WP: I kinda told Finn I was gonna sing duets with him.   WP: But you are my special one so totally singing one with you.  WP: You just gotta know I suck, a lot WP: You do like board games, right? SE: What makes me special? SE: Heck yeah I do! I play tons of them. WP: Well, you are gonna be my date, if you say yes. WP: We just have one mission and it's not lose against my brother, cause he is being talking shit SE: You’ve gotta talk smack. That’s part of the fun of competing.  SE: You’ve got a song in mind.  SE: I’ve got a better idea...  SE: Will you be my date, Wanda? WP: YEAH BUT HE TALKING TOO MUCH  WP: Not really. We can always do a fun song. WP: agdasjfkddhdkjghdkgjWP: SAM WP: YOU ALMOST OWNED ME A NEW PHONE [...] WP:  I would be honored, Sam. SE: You need to let it roll off your shoulders, beautiful. It’s part of the game.  SE: Why?!??  SE: Awesome. Since this is a date then let’s do it right. What time is this game thing starting. I want to take you to dinner WP: Nonono, he is gonna go down. He is gonna be ended but I'm gonna do it silently like a snake.  WP: CAUSE MY HEART WAS FRAGILE.  WP: Omg oieufgoigjr I don't know but we can be a little bit. I go out at six from work, is that good? SE: then you have to tell him that. Not me. But if I catch him before then I’ll let him know he won’t know what hit him.  SE: I can meet you in front of your job.  SE: You’re cute. WP: Just throw a paper ball and hide. He then really wouldn't know what hit him  WP: I'll make sure to go super pretty to work so you can see.  WP:  That's you. I'm so glad you said yes, I was really excited already to do this with you. And now it's just ten times better. SE: That’s not the type of hit I was thinking but I have to say I like the way you think.  SE: I did, technically but I went ahead and decided to make this a full blown date. WP: He is gonna get scared really easily so it's gonna be hilarious. Did you know he was complaining all day today cause I let him have a hungover? The nerve.  WP: It was really hot let me tell you, but also really sweet what is a great combination. A+ 10/10 would recommend SE: How did to let him have one? Did you get him drinking?  SE: you’d recommend people to date me? I think that’s the nicest thing a girl I asked out has offered to do for me. WP: Of course not. We went home last night and my mom made us daiquiris and i drank with her till i passed out. THEN mom needed a drinking buddy and she got William. See? Not my fault.  WP: I'll write you a review: 'Adorable smile, arms that you actually want to be killed in and hotness to change your date proposal into his date proposal' SE: You’re right. He’s gotta go after your mom for pushing those daquirues. I’ve never had a drink with my mom before. I bet drunk William was hilarious.  SE: You want to be killed in my arms?  SE: That’s different.  SE: Think people will want to date me after reading that? Or you gonna keep it to yourself? WP: Right??? He could had played like he was asleep too, so it's all on him. WP: Well, they are nice arms! If I had to leave this world, I would like it to be in a nice situation.  WP: Totally gonna keep it for myself. I'm gonna recommend you to myself and that's it. SE: Exactly! Can I give him crap about this? SE: looks like the review worked then. SE: Thought to give you a pic of me that shows my arms. And other things WP: Of course you can, do what you gotta do  WP: Jfc WP: I can totally die in your abs too  WP: It's gonna be so hard to not want to rip your clothes off now that I have that mental picture why u this rude

SE: I have faith you can wait until the end of the date before that happens. SE: Do you live alone? SE: That sounded creepy didn’t it? WP: But we have game night after and that is sooo long  WP: A little bit but I know why you ask so its chill WP: A rommate but she is never there SE: Oh! We’ll still go and do the game thing. This is after. Like when I drop you off at your place.  SE: if they’re not there then maybe I’ll pull you into my arms and kiss you. WP: It's gonna really taste my patience let me tell you.  WP: Oh really? Kiss me like the end of a romantic movie or Kiss me like the start of 50 shadea? I gotta know... For science SE: Isn't 50 Shades that kink movie with the whips and blindfolds? I don't know what that kiss looks like. WP: You never seen it? Its so bad its hilarous, we totally have to now.  WP: WHAT A I MEANT was that like a sexy kiss or a romantic kiss SE: My mom was happy about the movies and dragged my dad to see them in the theater. Not a cool image to have when it comes to your folks. SE: I think I'll go ahead and leave how the ends as a mystery. Keep you on your toes. WP: ... I feel like, for your safety, we are not gonna watch them. Ever.   WP: Why u gotta be so rude, dont u know i'm human too. SE: For my safety? What happens in them??  SE:I don’t think it’s being rude. It’s more of a surprise. WP: I'd never betray your mom by telling you.   WP: Now I feel like I have to have a surprise on my own HMMMM SE: This you getting back at me?? That’s not cool, Wanda! WP: Okay, picture this. Imagine you had seen a very... Sexual movie. WP: And your kid wants to see it. SE: That’s the surprise? WP: I thought you were talking about the 50 shades!  WP: The surprise it's a surprise and I gotta keep it that way SE: No! I moved far away from the mom porn! SE: We’re just going to tack on more and more surprises until everything is one giant one WP: It's not mom porn! Jamies's butt is everyone's porn. WP: Omg imagine that in a turn of events we end up with very extra surprises? Like, trying to top each other we completely lose our minds? lol SE: I don’t know what his butt looks like. I’m glad it makes a lot of people happy? SE: Ours and every else’s. WP: Googleee iittttt.  WP: 'Wanda why do you have a million papers?' 'I HAVE TO GIVE SAM  A MILLION ORIGAMI ' SE: I read that as orgasms! WP: I can give you that too WP: But boy you gonna have to give me some time cause a million is like, a lot. SE: I’m so red right now. One of the guys asked if I’m okay.  SE: I’m surprised you want to give me that many. That’s...flattering? WP: I want a pictureeeee  WP: 1. Why I wouldn't want to? You are awesome.   WP: 2.  Not like I don't get off but getting people off, so SE: No! It’s better you think of me as that cute guy you know and not the one who gets embarrassed when a pretty girl wants to get you off. WP: Those two are not mutually exclusive at all. I think you are cute for that SE: Thanks. SE: I can get awkward sometimes. SE: But let’s see how this date goes and then we’ll see about the whole million thing WP: You know you can tell me whenever I step out of line, right?  WP: I'm not gonna get weird or anything. SE: No! It’s not out of line. I’m not used to girls telling me what they want to do. I think it’s sexy you know what you want and how to get it. It just takes me some time to wrap my head around it is all. But don’t think I’m not interested. I am. WP: I know you are,  but still. I just want you to know that you can always tell me. Above all, we are friends okay? SE: Of course.  SE: I do want to kiss you.  SE: Just so you know WP: I do too, just so you know.   WP: Since the day of the headphones SE: The first time or second time? WP: First time. SE: I had no idea! SE: Im so clueless sometimes WP: Well, I was a bit more forward the second time.  WP: And contrary to public belief I'M SUBTLE SE: Then that’s probably why I didn’t get it!!  SE: You have to hit me with a brick to realize I’m being flirted with WP: That's a little bit dangerous???? SE: It gets the point across???? WP: You  won't notice if someone is flirting if you are passed out??? SE: But I will when I come to! WP: When you end up in the hospital, I'm gonna make you a cake saying I told you so

#iphone: all #iphone: sam evans #gfnsam

[welcometophu]

Not Your Love Song: Chapter 18

Marked Book 2: Not Your Love Song

Chapter 18

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Rory is awake far too early on Sunday. Alaric convinces him to stumble down into the dining hall for breakfast, but Rory doesn’t bother to shower first. He just wants to go back to sleep after breakfast, when Alaric leaves for OPT.

It works for a little while.

His phone starts buzzing a little after noon. Rory would guess that Alaric just hit the road in Dax’s minivan to go home, so he’s not surprised by the onslaught. He rolls over and grabs the phone, unlocks it to find three text threads waiting for him.

The oldest is from Darrik, and Rory can’t imagine why he’d be up at just past six in the morning on a Sunday.

I forgot to text that I got in okay last night after the movie. Had a good time. Bet you’re still sleeping.

At that hour? Definitely. The nine o’clock breakfast was too early as it was.

I was, Rory replies. I’m awake now. You surviving after your late night?

While they’d seen the first movie showing of the night, their group had all gone out to Teas Please after, and Darrik had dropped Rory off at just past one before heading back to Valiant. It wasn’t all that late for Rory, but for someone who works in a high school on weekdays, it had to be past his usual bedtime.

He switches to the next conversation in the list, a little surprised that it’s just Kit and him, and not the group chat with Shane, or the larger one that includes Dax and Darrik as well.

We just hit the road. Carolyn looks like she’s going to puke. Corbin is loud and he and Drea are kind of disturbingly cute. There are two people we knew in high school going with us, and having their car behind us is like having the past on our tail.

It’s a poetic image, the idea of the past literally hunting a person down, following them down the highway. Or back roads. Rory grabs a notebook and writes it down before he sends back, Is that imagery up for grabs?

Give me a shoutout when you sing it, if it makes it that far, Kit replies.

That’s easy enough. I can do that, Rory agrees. Is Alaric bored and sulking about having to go home?

I think he’s talking to Dax about football. Why? Is he texting you, too? You guys are really good friends, right?

Like family. Rory doesn’t need to think about it, or qualify it in any way. We got lucky. I think he was dreading having to room with a Mage. I didn’t know what to expect from Clan. People are so different. There’s Alaric, and then there’s Darrik.

It’s a cue, maybe, because a notification pops up to add to the trail of texts he has from Alaric. It starts with a series of apologies for waking him up early, trails into a discussion of just how thrilled he is to be heading home, and meanders into a dry commentary on public displays of affection between his sister and his best friend. It’s easy to imagine Alaric’s voice for each of the texts, and Rory’s laughing at the end. You could just tell them to quit it, he suggests.

Do you think I haven’t tried? Do you know how many Mages are in this van? And two more in a car behind us. Drea says she talked to our parents. I don’t think it matters that they’ve been warned. It’s not going to go over well.

Do you have a plan for Theobald? Rory asks.

Yeah. I’m distracting him with politics. I have a whole printed contract with Dayton’s Clan, specific to her and me allying, not the older generations. I also want to arrange a visitation for spring break. Our whole alliance plans to meet there, including the Mages.

Rory rolls onto his back, phone held above him. That’s going to be a hell of a distraction, yeah. I don’t have to worry about him trying to kill you or something, do I?

I’m all he has left.

Rory knows exactly how Alaric says it, how lost he sounds with those words. He also knows it’s not true. There’s Drea. There are other families among their Clan. There are options. He’s not sure what, exactly, keeps Theobald from stripping this away from Alaric. But something does, and Alaric’s going to continue to push his limits as long as he can.

I’m doing okay. The message pops up from Darrik, and when Rory switches conversations there are dots like Darrik is still thinking through what he wants to say next. I had fun last night, Darrik finally sends. I like your friends. I’d say I’m looking forward to Wednesday, but I’d be lying. I am looking forward to seeing you and your friends, though.

That statement makes sense to Rory. Did you talk to Lora’s parents and the people at Sunnyview?

Not yet, Darrik admits. I did try to call her parents, but they’re out. They do brunch sometimes, so I’ll probably get hold of them this evening. I’ll let you know when everything’s set. Do you need anything special for the ritual?

Rory switches conversations, pulling up the group text with Kit and Shane and staring at it for a long time before deciding he’s not typing anything there right now and switches back to Darrik. I don’t know yet, but I’ll let you know. I think it’s going to be all Kit’s focus and me and Shane trying to supply direction, and we’ll go from there. Hopefully we can reach her.

Hopefully.

There’s nothing more than that one word from Darrik. Rory shifts from conversation to conversation, ignoring what he’s been sent in favor of looking for another reply from Darrik. When one doesn’t come, he bites his lip, tries to decide what to send back.

This was a rough weekend. Are you okay?

I’m going to be. The response comes back like he didn’t have to think about it, like maybe he was expecting the question. I’ll send you info as soon as I know it for Wednesday. And probably text you when I’m bored in study hall.

Rory smiles at Darrik’s attempt to lighten the mood. I’ll look forward to it. And keep my phone on silent so I don’t get in trouble for texting my boyfriend during lectures.

This time when there’s no reply right away, Rory lets it go.

Alaric put his phone away. I can almost feel his anxiety. He’s the one who doesn’t like Heather, right?

Kit’s text comes through while Rory is talking to Darrik. It’s been several minutes by the time Rory gets to it, but he figures that’s fine. It’s not like Kit’s going anywhere; he’s trapped in a car for at least a half an hour.

Yeah, he doesn’t like Empaths. I was just talking to Darrik. He’s going to talk to Lora’s parents. He’s not looking forward to reliving any of that mess again, but he liked you guys. So he’s looking forward to seeing everyone again.

Jess won’t be there, Kit replies. But I liked her. She’s got a lot of energy, doesn’t she? But quiet energy. Like a mountain. With freckles.

Rory has to look through his photos to find one from last night, because he doesn’t have a clear mental image of Jess, and he doesn’t remember the freckles. They’re there, though. She’s tall, broad-shouldered, taking Shane’s weight when he leans on her.

He hopes Kit never actually calls her a mountain; he’s pretty sure she’d find that offensive. But he understands the reference, that kind of solid, stable energy that lies in the earth. I get it, he replies. Did you get to talk to Serina at all today? You guys seem to be doing well.

It’s only been a week. Ish.

Rory frowns at the phone. Is that your way of saying it isn’t serious? Or that it’s not a thing? Or that it’s not working? You guys seemed good last night.

I think we’re okay.

Kit’s response comes quickly, but it’s followed by a series of dots and Rory waits to see if Kit’s going to finish the thought. He reaches for his notebook, scribbles notes to himself about the idea of the past chasing as they drive down the highway, the car close behind. What happens when you stop, and the past catches up… yeah, that’s a thought.

I really like her.

The phone buzzes to let him know Kit replied, but it’s just those four words.

I think she really likes you, Rory replies.

I know. We get along really well, and she’s fun. We talk a lot, and we make out some.

Rory winces, because this may be starting to verge into TMI territory. Not that he hasn’t handled that since Thorne hit puberty, but still. He doesn’t really think he has that kind of friendship with Kit, yet.

I like kissing her. I think I like kissing in general. Which is good, right? I’m just not sure… I haven’t really wanted to move past that. She hasn’t said anything about it, which is also good, since moving past kissing starts getting into other things. But I don’t know if not wanting more is a me thing, an us thing, or maybe it’s just life.

Rory is not qualified to be having this conversation. He wants to ask if it matters right now, but he figures it must matter to Kit, since he brought it up. And maybe it matters to Serina, maybe it doesn’t, but Rory certainly isn’t going to go knock on her door to ask.

He looks at his door like it’s about to burst open on cue. Thankfully it doesn’t, but he gets out of bed anyway, just to check and make sure the door is actually still locked.

Is it something you need to figure out right now? he asks.

No, but I

The text ends there, as if Kit was interrupted or just decided to stop, and Rory isn’t sure which it is. Alaric’s gone silent, and Darrik never responded to his last. It’s as good a time as any to toss his phone on the bed and go looking for something to wear.

Rory tosses dirty laundry into a hamper; there’s enough that he probably should throw a load in  while most of the world is either still sleeping off the Saturday night drunk, or getting brunch downstairs. Apparently it’s long overdue since the only t-shirts left in his drawer are the ones he wears when he doesn’t really give a shit. And every single hoodie could use a wash, so he has to decide which one is least offensive, or else just not leave the building.

He does a sniff test and decides that not leaving the building is the right answer. Clean pajama pants, an old t-shirt, and hanging out in his room finishing up assignments and working on music. He can do that.

He takes the hamper down and separates it into two washers. He walks cautiously past Serina’s room, as if she somehow knows what he’s been talking to Kit about and is going to pounce on him with her side of the story.

When he gets back to his room, he grabs the phone and checks it.

Maybe I’m just being stupid, Kit says. If I like her, shouldn’t I want to do more? Shouldn’t I be interested in

He cuts off again in that text, but another one has already come through.

I just want to know if it’s me, or if it’s because it’s her, or if it’s something else entirely. I’ve never had a girlfriend before, and maybe it’s just a time thing.

Rory closes his door, twists the lock. Have you ever kissed anyone before Serina? he asks. He strips down to his underwear and wraps a towel around his waist while waiting for Kit to respond.

Once. In seventh grade. During one of those stupid games that I honestly didn’t believe that anyone actually played at middle school parties.

I didn’t like it. But I figured it was because he didn’t know I was a guy, so it just felt weird and wrong. Most of seventh grade felt weird and wrong. Adolescence sucked in a major way.

Rory’s starting to wonder if maybe he is the right person for Kit to be talking to. He leans back against the bed, fingers sliding over the keyboard as he types. I’m not personally a big fan of kissing. I like cuddling. There is nothing better than having another body in bed with you, honestly, but it’s nothing sexual. I snuggle people I trust. Kissing always feels weird to me, and I definitely don’t want to do anything else with anyone.

Hm. Rory imagines the way Kit’s brow furrows. I do like

He cuts off again, and Rory swallows a laugh. It’s like talking to someone who’s been bleeped out.

You can like getting off without wanting to do it with another person, Rory says, his cheeks bright red even though no one’s there to see it. Or it’s possible she’s just not the right person for you. No matter what popular media says, not every guy wants to get into every girl’s pants. And not everyone is thinking about sex all the time. Even people who like it. Thorne’s an outlier. Most people are a lot more subtle about it.

Thanks for talking to me. I know you’re not a fan of sex. I appreciate it, Kit replies.

Rory does laugh out loud at that. I am betting I’m the only ace guy you know, so I’m okay if you want to talk to me about that. It’s one of those things that a lot of guys don’t understand. And Kit? It’s okay if it’s also just because you’re anxious because of everything else. That’s something you’ll figure out. Just don’t worry about rushing it, okay?

He leaves the phone on the bed when he heads to the shower. Kit should be arriving in Haverhill soon, and Rory thinks that maybe he’s had enough awkward but encouraging conversations about sexuality.

There’s a song in that somewhere. It might even have to do with the past chasing…

Huh.

He hums under his breath while he showers, and by the time he gets back to his room, lyrics are starting to form.

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#welcome to phu #welcometophu #not your love song #phu marked #marked

[sabinasanfanfic]

February Prompt - Day 7

Time Together

Hey...what days are your internship?

Satomi looked up from her textbook to see the text from Hijikata. She smiled as she picked up her phone to respond.

Monday, Wednesday, Friday I’m usually there for 4 hours starting around noon Sometimes longer if I don’t have to work afterwards

Damn...you work too?

Yeah. Gotta pay my bills somehow

Satomi snorted at Hijikata’s surprise. It had been a few weeks since they had seen each other, but they had continued to text. Satomi found it endearing that Hijikata wanted to keep in contact with her, and she looked forward to receiving his texts.

Well...I get out of lecture at 11 Maybe...we can meet for lunch at the hospital before you go up to the unit?

Satomi felt her heart stutter at his words. A thrill went through her body, and her fingertips tingled as they hovered over her phone. She suddenly felt light-headed, and a wide grin broke out on her lips.

You mean...every Monday, Wednesday, Friday?

I thought I made that clear

Satomi scoffed and rolled her eyes. She was getting used to his rudeness and recognized it as a defense mechanism. Still, she hoped that one day he wouldn’t feel the need to hide from her. She decided the her best bet was to just ignore his brusqueness and give him an answer.

Well, then yes I would like that very much

See you tomorrow at 11 then

I look forward to it 🙂

~~~~~~~~ They met in the cafeteria, and sitting across from each other at Hijikata’s usual table by the windows, they ate and chatted. Well, in this case, Satomi listened as Hijikata went on about a complex surgery he has been chosen to scrub in for. Satomi attempted to pay attention to the details, but when he started using medical terms she was unfamiliar with, she quickly lost track.

Instead, Satomi found herself drawn to his passion. His eyes were alight, and she could see excitement in his movements and tone of voice. It was pure delight to see him speak so well on the subject, and she was soon hyper-focused on the curve of his lips and the light in his eyes. A man with passion...that was something she found highly attractive.

“Oi. Are you listening?”

The change in tone snapped Satomi out of her thoughts, and her eyes widened as she realized that his eyes were narrowed and focused on her. She had been caught not absorbing anything he was saying.

“What?” she asked as a light blush dusted her cheeks.

“You look like you’re lost and...something else.”

Oh my God...when did he get so good at reading me?! Satomi sat up, her mind scrambling at this latest development. She hadn’t expected Hijikata to be able to start understanding her little mannerisms that gave hints of her thoughts to people who knew her well. She prided herself on being good at hiding her feelings, which is why she had instantly recognized when Hijikata was doing the same thing. Now? She was going to have to be more careful.

“I told you I’d get lost when you start using medical jargon,” she said petulantly with a tiny hint of a smile.

“Oh...I guess I got carried away there,” Hijikata murmured, his gaze trailing down to the table.

“It’s okay,” Satomi assured him. “I can tell you’re really passionate about your work. It’s...nice.”

A sort of awkward silence descended between them, neither knowing where to go from there. Satomi mentally smacked herself for being complimentary in such a clumsy way. She took a bite of her salad and used the time to think about how to break the silence between them.

“Are...you doing anything this weekend?”

Satomi finished chewing and swallowed. “Just studying for an exam on Monday.”

“Oh, well...everyone is getting together for drinks at the bar on Saturday. I thought...maybe you’d like to come.”

Satomi could feel her heart beat quicken. “Sure. I can’t stay too long, but I’m sure I’ll need a study break.”

Hijikata nodded. Satomi looked to the clock behind Hijikata and sighed. Eleven forty-five. How does the time fly when I’m with him? “I should head up to the floor.”

Satomi stood and gathered up her trash. She turned to leave and had taken a few steps before she heard his voice.

“Be careful, Tanaka.”

Satomi smiled briefly before turning her head to look over her shoulder. “Right back at you.” ~~~~~~~~~ Walking into the same bar she had first met Hijikata at, Satomi felt more comfortable than she had the first time she had been there. She was a little more familiar with everyone, and admittedly, she was looking forward to seeing Hijikata outside of the hospital.

When she approached the group that had gathered by the bar much like that time, Satomi wasn’t shocked to see that Hijikata wasn’t there yet. He had told her earlier that he had gone into the hospital to finish some notes. She removed her pea coat and scarf, hanging them off the back of a chair that Sano was occupying.

“Hey, Satomi,” Sano greeted.

“Hey! It’s good to see everyone again,” she said before she ordered a cider from the bartender.

“Hi, Satomi-chan!” Chizuru greeted as she came up to Satomi’s left.

“Hi, Chizuru-chan. How’s school?”

“Busy. I knew medical school was going to be hard, but…I wasn’t quite expecting so much work!” she bemoaned.

Satomi heard the casual chuckle of Souji, and she immediately felt her whole body tense. She peered past Chizuru to acknowledge the man, who had come to stand next to his girlfriend.

“Hey, Satomi-chan,” Souji said with his typical smirk.

“Okita-kun,” Satomi addressed stiffly.

She caught sight of her cider being set on the bar out of the corner of her eye, and she grabbed it. She was certain Souji had noted her cold acknowledgement, but she wasn’t about to change it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Souji per se, but she had learned quickly that Souji had a knack for being blunt in a sort of pointed way. She also felt like he didn’t care much for her either, and thus, he was more willing to find the perfect moment to tease her.

If anyone else in the group were to tease her, Satomi could handle it because it was done good-naturedly. Souji on the other hand? He always had an air of superiority about him that just irked her, and it seemed that he used his barbs as a way to prove that he was better than anyone else.

“You ready for that test on Monday?” Sano asked, drawing her attention away from her thoughts.

“Maybe? I think I have a pretty good handle on all the theories of personality.”

“If you want, I can quiz you later,” Sano offered.

“Whoa…don’t you think you better run that by Hijikata-san first?” Souji asked smugly.

Satomi whirled on him. “No. Why?”

Souji shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh…you know…I thought you two were dating and all.”

Satomi’s eyes widened and her stomach twisted. “What makes you think we’re dating?”

Souji turned to lean his back on the bar, and a corner of his mouth was quirked up. “Well, I heard you brought him dinner the one night. And you two have been having lunch together three times a week. Sounds like dating to me.”

Satomi’s head whipped to look at Sano, who just smiled with a shrug. “I don’t know who gave you that idea.”

“Well, I’m just shocked, that’s all. Didn’t peg you for the type to go for a man who’s gonna choose his job over you,” Souji said with a loud sigh.

She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks, and her eyes narrowed as she returned her gaze to Souji. Satomi opened her mouth to retort when her phone dinged. She looked down and saw a text from Hijikata.

Sorry. emergency Not gonna make it

It’s okay. Really I’ll see you on Monday

She then returned her gaze to Souji, who had a knowing smile on his face. “That was him, wasn’t it? He’s not coming tonight, is he?”

“Why do you keep asking questions you already know answers to?” Satomi retorted.

Souji shrugged. “Just making conversation.”

“Really?” Satomi asked lightly, feeling feisty despite a voice in the back of her head telling her to back off. “It sounds to me like you care an awful lot about Hijikata.”

Souji stood up, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t-“

“Anyway, I guess it’s a good thing that being with a man isn’t my priority. Hijikata and I may be having lunch together, but my focus is on school and my career right now. But if you don’t care about him, I’m not sure why it’s any of your business who he spends his free time with.” Satomi’s tone was light and airy, but she hoped Souji was getting her message—fuck off.

Souji scowled, but before he could say anything else, Sano broke in. “Ma, come on, you two. Just let it go.”

Souji shrugged and pushed off the bar, disappearing into the group. Satomi watched him go before her gaze landed on Chizuru.

“I’m sorry about Souji.”

“You shouldn’t be the one to apologize for him,” Satomi said a little stiffly, though with more kindness than she had been addressing Souji with.

“It’s just his way of relating to people. He…he didn’t have such a good childhood. I know it shouldn’t excuse his behavior, but I thought you would understand.”

Satomi sighed before taking a drink. “That’s unfortunate.”

After finishing her drink, Satomi decided she needed to get back to her studying. After saying her good-byes, even to Souji—who seemed surprised by that—Satomi returned home. She settled herself on her couch and opened her textbook and notebook to continue studying.

Hey…are you still there?

Satomi looked down at her phone, first taking note of the time. It’s already 9:30.

No. I’m home now

I’m sorry about this evening

Really…it’s fine Though you missed the fireworks between Okita-kun and I

What did the twerp say now?

Satomi snorted softly as she replied.

Everyone seems to think we’re dating

There was a pause before his next text came through.

Is that so?

Yeah I just said we were having lunch together

When there wasn’t an immediate response, Satomi set her phone aside and returned her attention to her notes. A few minutes passed before another text came through.

I’d still like to see you

Satomi’s stomach dropped, and her eyes widened. She felt her heart rate increase as she picked up the phone. He’d still like to see me? A grin broke out as she attempted to tamp down her excitement at this confession. She took a moment to compose herself and to calm her wildly beating heart before she responded.

Well…I’m gonna be studying

That’s fine. I have reports and things to go over myself

Oh, okay then

What’s your address?

Satomi gave it to him, and then set her phone aside. She looked around her apartment, wondering if she needed to do anything to prepare for an unexpected guest. Deciding that there wasn’t anything else she could do as the place was already clean, she settled back into the couch and attempted to pay attention to her notes as her thoughts attempted to come to terms with the fact that Hijikata was coming over.

I need to focus. I mean…I’m excited he’s coming over, but I need to study. He’s just trying to make up for the fact that he canceled on me earlier.

With a few deep breaths, Satomi was able to return to her notebook. About fifteen minutes passed when she heard a knock on her door. Mika took off for the bedroom with her tail slightly poofed, which made Satomi chuckle. She opened the door, and was greeted by Hijikata in a pea coat with a messenger bag slung off his right shoulder. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she allowed him entry. He was rather dashing in his coat.

“Thanks,” he said as he removed his shoes and placed them on the mat next to the door.

“I can take your coat,” Satomi offered as he unbuttoned it to reveal a casual button-down shirt. “Aww…you didn’t have to get dressed up for me,” she teased lightly as she went to hang his coat off the back of a chair at her dining room table.

When she turned to face him, she saw a light blush on his cheeks. No rude comment was forthcoming. This slightly surprised Satomi, and she decided to reward it by not drawing further attention to his embarrassment.

“Want something to drink?”

“Water would be great.”

She went into the kitchen, and he followed a few steps behind. Satomi was acutely aware of his closeness, and she could hear her heart pounding and her blood rushing in her ears. It was so loud to her that she thought it might be loud enough for him to hear. She handed him the glass, and their fingers gently brushed, making her heart leap up in her throat and her fingers tingle where they had made contact.

“Thanks.” A pause as they made their way back to the living room. “What are you studying?”

“Personality theory,” Satomi said as she resumed her previous place on the couch.

“Uh…sounds…interesting?”

Satomi smiled as she watched him settle on the floor between the couch and her coffee table with his back resting against the couch. She understood his desire to maintain some distance between them, but a small part of her wished he had chosen to sit closer.

“It is to me,” she said with a smile. “But I won’t bore you with trying to explain it all.”

Hijikata snorted, and it seemed he caught on to her good-natured barb about his earlier gushing over the surgery he was going to be a part of. He grabbed his messenger bag and pulled out several stacks of papers.

A comfortable silence filled the room. Soon, Satomi’s gaze was able to return to her notes and textbook. Even though she was aware that he was near her, his presence did little to distract her. In fact, it was soothing, and she wasn’t sure why. Nor did she have the time to dwell on it.

Soon, two hours passed, and Satomi could feel her eyes burning and drooping. She was tired, and she was fighting to stay awake. Her eyes closed briefly, and Satomi figured she could just rest them for a few minutes before picking back up with her studying.

Hijikata lifted his arms over his head and stretched, feeling his back crack. He let out a sigh and then turned to look back at Satomi. Her legs were curled up underneath her with her head tilted to the side. Her notebook was sitting in her lap, held in place by her arm. She was asleep. He snorted softly and knew this was his cue to leave.

As quietly as he could, Hijikata gathered up his papers and shoved them back into his messenger bag. He then stood, looking around the room for a blanket. He located one on a chair across the living room, and after retrieving it, he unfolded it as he approached the couch once more.

Before draping the blanket over her, Hijikata slowly slid the notebook out from under her arm and placed it on the cushion beside her. He then covered her with the blanket. He stood there for a moment, taking in her completely relaxed features, and his heart fluttered. A part of him wanted to reach out and brush her bangs out of her face, but he wasn’t sure he should do something so intimate.

After a few more moments of watching her sleep, he shook his head and made the decision to go before he made the bad decision to stay when he wasn’t sure he would be welcome. He picked up his messenger bag, retrieved his coat and put it on before placing the bag on his shoulder. He went to the door and slid his shoes back on his feet as he looked back at her.

“Good night,” he murmured before taking his leave.

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

Tagging: @eheartangel, @hakuyamazakisensei, @resshiiram, @hidetheremote, @shell-senji, @hakuouki-or-hakuoki, @lescahiersdesable, @flower-dragon, @enby-peep, @jellyfish-wish, @emmalanna, @fic-writer-appreciation. If you wish to be added or removed from my tagging list, please message me! 

#veraspromptchallenge2018 #february prompt #hakuouki #hakuoki #eheartangel’s souji time travel au #hijikata toshizo #tanaka satomi #okita souji #harada sanosuke #yukimura chizuru #hijimi #oc

[jpemptionjournal]

Good morning peeps!!! Today I woke up smiling and feel really good. I actually don’t now why I feel this way. I actually feel happy. There’s many reason that I could be smiling right now. These are the following:

I feel good cause I am taking all the requirements steps to move forward into my future without expecting Glory in my life (even though that’s what I really desire the most).

I am going to see my psychologist at 12pm, then my spiritual guide at 3:30pm and I will be with my friends at my home watching a series or a movie when I arrive from my spiritual guidance.

Today is Wednesday, meaning after Wednesday comes Thursday and then Friday! (I am a teacher, so you kind of look forward for Friday so many times).

Melissa Jazmin, my second ex and friend, will be hanging with Glory (meaning that Glory will have a great time and that truly makes me happy 💙)

Realizing that the concept of love is rather more complicated than A to B, sometimes loves is 100% then 0% in seconds, and sometimes love seems like tough love and you kind of forget about these things because you get scared of tough love. Glory does has issues to address (same as me), but they are issuers that I have been noticing that I can live with them if they aren’t fully address at time.

In part I feel that... I have a glimmer of hope since Melissa said if she feels like she needs to tell her something to consider, she would. Yet, I am trying to ignore this fact because she could have just been joking or wouldn’t do that. Therefore, to do anything, I blocked her since yesterday and I will unblock her today later in the evening. It’s a way of protecting myself and as well as protecting Glory. I don’t want to commit the same mistakes, I want her to be happy even if that means that she is happy without me in her life and that’s okay (even though; me voy a sentir podrido porque quiero volver, pero lo estaré por el simple hecho... que la amo y ella se merece mejor; aunque yo no soy quien determina que es mejor para ella, pero distingo que mis acciones fueron muy malas). Te quiero, por si me muero Glory 💙 (disclaimer, I am not suicidal. Is just a thing we used to say to each other).

Log out: April 28th, 2021, 4:44am.

#enfp thoughts #realization #breakup #journal #libra #feeling good #bittersweet #Spotify

[xxsparksxx]

The Miller’s Dance - utterly, utterly adorable

I know we’re all, understandably, very fraught with emotion over s3 of Poldark. So, as I’m re-reading The Miller’s Dance at the moment, I thought I’d share some of the absolute adorableness that is Ross and Demelza in later years, about 16-17 years after where we’ve just left them in s3/The Four Swans. A reminder to book fans, and a life ring for any show viewers who want it.

No plot spoilers per se, but if you don’t want to know anything about the future family life of the Poldarks, just scroll on by. Note: I’m tagging this with my ‘sparks talks poldark’ tag, but don’t expect much analysis. This is a self-indulgent injection of fluff into the fandom by way of several extracts of Ross and Demelza;s long-lasting love for each other :D

Basically, The Miller’s Dance is full of Ross being absolutely adorably concerned about Demelza’s health. She’s forty-two, he’s a decade older, and she chooses to tell him she’s pregnant like this:

The same evening while the two older children were still away and Isabella-Rose had retired conversationally to bed, Demelza told Ross that she was with child again. Ross put his pipe carefully down on the mantelshelf. ‘Good God!’ Demelza said: ‘Yes, indeed.’ ‘Almighty God, I never supposed . . .’ ‘I don’t think we can blame Him.’ Ross got up, looked at the accounts book he had been about to tackle on his desk. Priorities, perspectives had suddenly changed. ‘When?’ ‘Oh . . . maybe November. Before Christmas anyhow.’ ‘Have you been feeling unwell for some time?’ ‘A couple of weeks. It is passing now. I shall feel brave now. I always do.’

Bless him, Ross really doesn’t know how to react.

Every time this happened with Demelza it got worse. Each time he found he had more to lose. He had hoped it would never occur again. ‘I’m very selfish,’ he said. ‘I think only of you.’ ‘That doesn’t sound selfish.’ ‘Well it is. Because the older I get, the older we both get, the more I depend on you.’ ‘I know that, Ross. At least, I feel it so also. It operates both ways. But in what respect will this alter it?’ He hesitated. ‘Not at all if it is as the others have been.’ ‘Well, then. That is how it shall be.’ He held his tongue, not wanting to damp her with his own fears.

Because of course Ross is right, Demelza is older than she was and the risks increase with age. What I love in this is that he knows he relies on her, can’t do without her, and she feels the same, and his ‘selfishness’ feeds into the way he continues to treat her throughout her pregnancy, including when he’s away. He writes in a letter:

Time is racing on, and I have already been away too long. I hope Jeremy behaves in a sensible way in all things; and take care also, please, for yourself and your Third Man. I do not as you know wear my heart on my sleeve in family matters, and no doubt Compliments and Love Tokens from me have fallen upon you as thick as snowflakes in a hot summer; but all the same I charge you to be circumspect in all things regarding your general health and safety. Preferably do not climb trees – even little ones; do not attempt to carry the spinet under your arm; nor argue with the cows; nor fall off your horse; nor leap up the stairs more than four at a time. All these things are Inadvisable.

Is this not the most adorable thing? Can’t you just picture Demelza rolling her eyes, good-naturedly, at his worrying and fretting? And the worrying continues, with more of the same adorable teasing sort of conversations with Demelza:

‘I could well take a vow of abstinence when I see you put to so much strain and inconvenience just to satisfy my appetites.’ ‘Don’t take a vow that I shall persuade you to break. For abstinence is not in me yet.’ ‘It would be a good name, wouldn’t it,’ Ross said. ‘Abstinence. Abstinence Poldark. But would it be for a girl or a boy?’ Demelza said: ‘Don’t you think Indulgence would be better?’ ‘Or Incontinence,’ said Ross. ‘That might be too near the truth!’

Their warm, loving, passionate relationship hasn’t dimmed in all these years. Certainly not the passion!

Ross looked round the room, the familiar room with its familiar well-used furniture. He loosened his stock and looked at Demelza who was sitting propped up with a pillow, one arm behind her head, bare where the nightdress sleeve had fallen back. It was her right arm, and she was a very right-handed person, but there seemed to be no sign of muscle development other than was necessary to give it an elegant shape. ‘What are you looking at?’ she asked. ‘You.’ She gave a half-smile. ‘Well, if you don’t mind my size it is not yet too late.’ ‘Oh yes, it is. There are risks we have to take and risks we need not.’ ‘Well, I’m sorry. And yet I’m glad.’ ‘Both?’ ‘Yes, both. Sorry because I’d like it too. Glad because you still fancy me.’ ‘I fancy you.’ ‘Hm.’ She looked at him, head on one side. ‘Yet sight is so large a part of desire. Isn’t it? To be ungainly . . .’ ‘That’s not ungainliness, that’s natural. You’re too sensitive about it.’ ‘Maybe.’ She lowered her arm and drew the nightdress sleeve down. ‘Go and have your supper, my lover.’

Twenty-five years after they married, with her fairly far forward in pregnancy. Still just as interested in each other, just as tender, Ross as concerned for her as ever and Demelza as careless of her own health as ever.

And then! Then it all comes to a head. Because, unlike Demelza’s first four pregnancies, this one does not go off without a hitch, and though everyone around her is worried (Ross of course, but also Dwight), Demelza is still Demelza. Advised that she can take short walks, gently, but that she must be careful, Demelza decides to go visiting.

Two days later when Dwight called Demelza was out. He strolled about the house for a few minutes, and then met Ross who had been busy in the library. ‘How is she this morning?’ Dwight asked. ‘Should I not be asking you that?’ ‘You should if I could find her.’ ‘Well, where in Heaven—’ ‘Apparently she told Jane that she would be taking a short walk.’ ‘With Jane?’ ‘No, no, on her own, I think.’ ‘Damn the woman! She ought to know better.’ ‘How was she yesterday after I left?’ ‘Oh, better than Wednesday. Better spirits. And this morning when she woke.’ ‘A little walking will do no harm, provided she feels up to it.’ ‘Jeremy!’ Ross called to his son, who was just about to go on the beach with Farquahar at his heels. Jeremy came back. ‘Hullo, Uncle Dwight. I have a couple of books I must return to you.’ ‘Dwight has come to see your mother,’ Ross said, ‘and no one knows where she is.’ ‘I think she was going over to see Jud and Prudie.’ ‘Oh, God in Heaven!’ Ross exploded. ‘Has she no sense? Did you not try to dissuade her?’ ‘Yes, I did. I said “that bug-ridden place”. But you know what Mama is when she takes an idea into her head.’ ‘It is much too far,’ said Ross. ‘Is it not too far, Dwight?’ ‘Yes,’ said Dwight. ‘Of course had I come direct from home I would have seen her.’ ‘Would you like me to go after her?’ Jeremy said. ‘I was off to the mine but that can wait.’ ‘Thank you. I think it would be – very acceptable to me. Bring her back.’ Jeremy wrinkled one eyebrow. ‘Only you could be certain to do that, Father. But I’ll use my wiliest persuasions.’

Baby Henry comes, and mother and son both come out of it all right, but Ross still doesn’t abandon his worry. Nor does he abandon his desire for her! I’ll leave you with this final exchange:

She was in one of her provocative moods this afternoon. She looked about twenty-five and interested in men. It boded ill for their own relationship, if their intention was to keep that relationship chaste. He said abruptly: ‘It’s time I went away.’ ‘Are you tired of us?’ ‘Of course. Cannot endure you any longer.’ ‘Seriously?’ ‘Seriously, my reasons are more self-sacrificing.’ ‘That would be a sad mistake, now that I am coming brave.’ ‘You must be left alone to come brave.’ ‘Who said so?’ ‘I say so. Look at you now, like a skittish colt! By all rights you should be fat and sitting in a big armchair in front of the fire with a shawl round your shoulders, smelling of milk and babies’ clouts.’ ‘Would you like me like that?’ ‘Never mind what I would like. It would be a safer situation. Safer for you.’

Adorable. Just utterly adorable.

#sparks talks poldark #book spoilers #I just love them in this book okay?