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#'my list is so simple that it has only one item' WHAT IF I SOB
laxmiree · 29 days
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[CN] MLQC’s Lucien Wonderful Moments Date English Translation
⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️
This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~
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Lucien boops Snowball's nose, his tone hinting at jealousy.
"You've been praising this little guy a lot."
"Pfft, is Professor Lucien jealous?"
Translation under the cut!
[Notes from Lux: Here’s the CN video link if anyone wants to follow along with his Voice Acting.]
A car moves slowly on the vibrant countryside road, joyful laughter spilling out of its windows from time to time.
Lucien casually rests his hand on the steering wheel, looking ahead, and quickly comes up with a Chinese idiom.
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Lucien: The victory is in the bag. (shèng quàn zài wò)
MC: Idiom with wò… crouching tigers and hidden dragons! (wò hǔ cáng lóng! - 卧虎藏龙 - fig. mean talented individuals hiding their talent)
Lucien: Just a reminder to this beautiful contestant, this phrase was already said during our first round of the idiom chain game.
MC: Then, how about… I control my destiny! (wǒ mìng yóu wǒ - 我命由我- a phrase, not an idiom)
Lucien: [chuckles] That doesn't seem to be an idiom. Is Miss Producer starting to cheat?
Lucien tilts his head and looks at me with a smile. I sheepishly stick out my tongue, wracking my brain as I search through my vocabulary.
The gentle spring breeze seeps through the gaps of the car window. Looking at those cunning eyes, I have a sudden inspiration and break into a sweet smile.
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MC: I like you~ (wǒ xǐhuān nǐ~)
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Lucien's demeanor briefly halts for half a beat as though he doesn't expect my answer. But then, the smile on his lips grows bigger.
The warm afternoon sunshine reflects brightly in his upturned eyes, making them look particularly beautiful.
Lucien: [chuckles, then sighs] This is the most sophisticated cheating I've ever seen, so I concede defeat.
I cheer joyfully, but before I can utter a word, an electronic broadcast interrupts me.
"Distance to the next highway toll booth is 1.5 kilometers ahead.”
I glance at the phone screen and see it shows another hour and a half to the camping village.
Lucien suggested this camping trip to an ecologically pristine village with beautiful scenery, though the only downside is that the journey was a bit long.
I turn to look at Lucien, who appears to be in a good mood, and can't resist asking the small question that's been lingering on my mind.
MC: Lucien, what made you suddenly want to take me to this camping village?
Lucien: It was recommended by a colleague from the research center. I heard the scenery there is nice and worth a visit.
Lucien: I originally wanted to find an opportunity to spend time with you, and just last weekend we went to see a play, which gave me a very legitimate reason to invite you on a date—
Lucien: To create “beautiful moments”.
He deliberately emphasizes the words "beautiful moments", causing me to momentary pause as a recent memory quickly floods into my mind.
—[Flashback Start]—
At the entrance of the theater last weekend.
Lucien and I walked out of the theater hand in hand. I was still sniffling, lost in the storyline of the performance we just watched, unwilling to let it go.
Just as I was about to wipe away the tears at the corner of my eye, a warm hand handed me a tissue and gently dabbed it beneath my eyes.
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Lucien: [gently] If this little audience member keeps crying, I'll have to go find the production team for an explanation.
MC: I'm just really moved by the play...
MC: At first, when I saw the protagonist growing up under the shadow of his mother's depression, I thought he would fall into despair.
MC: But he was able to diligently record the beautiful moments in life and ultimately salvaged himself...
MC: I just tried to put myself in his shoes, and it's really hard to be as optimistic as the protagonist, so I couldn't stop my tears.
Under Lucien's gentle gaze, I rambled on and on, completing my "review" of the play. He patiently wiped the corners of my eyes and offered a comforting smile.
Lucien: I actually think the lady by my side also has a pair of eyes that can discover the beauty of life everywhere.
His sincere praise caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but feel a little buoyed by it. My heart, which had been saddened by the protagonist's struggles, also eased a bit.
MC: If I had a "Book of Beautiful Moments," the first thing I would record is how Professor Lucien always generously praises me~
Lucien chuckled softly, and the strands of hair hanging over his forehead swayed gently in front of his thick lashes.
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Lucien: [chuckles] I'm just stating facts. She shares the beauty of the sky with me and finds satisfaction in good weather...
Lucien: —Isn't that kind of you very much like the protagonist?
MC: Then next time I discover something beautiful, I'll make sure to record it promptly.
MC: Let's see if I can fill several volumes of "Wonderful Moments" just like the protagonist!
—[Flashback Ends]—
I casually remarked and thought it was nothing but a joke, yet Lucien silently remembered it in his heart. I come to my senses and blink.
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MC: So, the reason you suddenly decided to take me out to play is to create more wonderful moments in my life?
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Lucien: I wonder if it's because I'm not "competent" enough that you don't have much to record, so I deliberately created this opportunity.
Lucien: Of course, it's also to show myself off a bit.
He adopts a tone of pretended grievance that stirs a feeling of itchiness in my heart, I suppress the curve of my lips, nodding in mock annoyance.
MC: Well, in light of your "timely remedy," I'll reluctantly start recording officially!
✂———————–
MC: ...Lucien takes me camping;
MC: Before we set off, Lucien made me a cup of hot chocolate.
MC: While playing the idiom chain game, Lucien deliberately went easy on me...
As I speak, I open the Notes app on my phone and mutter to myself, recording a dozen or so entries. But as I continue to write, I suddenly feel something is amiss.
MC: Wait a minute, why do all these "wonderful moments" have Professor Lucien's shadow? I'm starting to suspect that I have a “love-brain”*...
[T/N: "恋爱脑" (love brain) is a Chinese internet buzzword that refers to a mindset that puts love first above everything. It refers to individuals who are deeply in love and often become consumed by their emotions, making it difficult for them to think about anything else. This phenomenon is characterized by extreme devotion to their lover, often leading to uncontrollable emotional dependence and intense desires to be with the other person... If anything, from the way Lucien takes her casual remarks seriously and uses them as a reason to hang out with her, this word describes Lucien more LOL]
Lucien: [with a pretending-don’t-to-know-anything tone] Oh, really?
Lucien is amused by my muttering, and a hint of sly self-satisfaction shines in his long and narrow eyes.
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Lucien: [chuckles] It seems the Great Producer has already fallen into my sweet trap.
Lucien: Because my goal is to dominate your today's "wonderful moments" list through this trip.
MC: Hmph, then I won't let you succeed. Right now, I'm going to come up with something completely unrelated to you.
As I speak, I catch a glimpse of a white shadow flashing in front of the car. But before I can react, Lucien has already hit the brakes.
[Sounds of the car suddenly braking]
Almost simultaneously, a strong arm instinctively protects me in front of my chest.
Lucien: ...Are you okay?
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He removes his sunglasses and swiftly scans me with his gaze as if confirming whether I'm injured.
I stare blankly ahead. After a moment of daze, there's no movement in front of the car, and my heart leaps into my throat.
MC: I, I'm okay...
MC: Lu, Lucien... Did something just rush onto the road?
Lucien: I'll go down and take a look first. Stay in the car and don't move.
He smooths out my disheveled bangs and then gets out of the car after turning on the hazard lights.
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Through the windshield, I see him quickly walk to the front of the car. His gaze instantly shifts downward, as if he's spotted something, and he crouches down.
Did we really hit something?
Just as I nervously stretch my neck and am about to get out of the car to take a look, Lucien suddenly stands up, cradling a bundle of white fluff in his arms.
MC: Eh?
I take a closer look and can't help but exclaim in delight—
It's an adorable little Pomeranian!
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Under my expectant gaze, Lucien quickly gets back into the car with the little Pomeranian in his arms, then raises the pup's paw and waves it at me.
MC: Hello there, cutie! How did you end up on the road?
Lucien: This little fellow must have gotten lost. I didn't see anyone else outside the car.
I follow Lucien's gaze out the window. The road is very quiet, there's no sign of anyone around.
MC: Is it injured?
Lucien: It wasn't hit just now. When I got out to check, it was still some distance from the front of the car. It's probably just a little startled.
As if understanding, the Pomeranian snuggles its face into Lucien's palm coquettishly. Its dewy eyes shift between Lucien and me, softening my heart.
I tentatively reach out my hand towards its nose, intending to let it get accustomed to my scent before attempting to pet its little head.
However, as soon as I reach out my hand, the little fellow enthusiastically licks my fingers. In the next moment, it leaps over the center console and goes straight into my arms.
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MC: Wow, what a good little doggy!
MC: And it looks very clean, not like a stray dog... Could it be lost?
Lucien leans in and turns the collar of the small Pomeranian, discovering a small round tag. On it, it reads "Snowball*" and a string of numbers.
[T/N: the pet name, "雪糕" (xuě gāo), actually means "ice cream bar/popsicle"  LOL. I take some liberty in translating the pup name because “雪” (xuě) word alone means “snow” (while “糕” (gao) means cake). Imagine that this fluffy white bundle looks like a snowball so I give the pup that name :D]
MC: "Snowball"? Is that its name?
Lucien: Mm, below should be the owner's phone number. Let me try contacting them. Maybe the owner hasn't gone far.
Lucien takes out his phone as he speaks and quickly gets connected. After briefly explaining the situation, a wave of gratitude comes from the other end of the line.
??: Thank you so much! I stopped at the service area for a break and took the pup out of the car for a walk. I forgot to bring it back into the car.
??: I've already turned back onto the highway. I'll be there in about forty minutes!
??: Will it delay you?
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Lucien doesn't respond, he just looks up at me and gestures with his eyes, as if asking for my opinion. I quickly nod in agreement.
[asking for opinion from the family leader.jpg]
Lucien: No, it won't. Then let's meet at the nearest gas station to the toll booth on the highway.
After a brief conversation, he hangs up the phone and shakes his head at me helplessly.
Lucien: [smiles helplessly] Looks like our journey might be delayed for a bit.
MC: What a careless owner! How could they forget such an adorable little dog?
I affectionately rub Snowball's head. It seems to whimper aggrievedly, then it straightens up, leans against me, and licks my cheek.
The adorable and silly look melts my heart once again. I exaggerate by placing my hand over my heart, then I scoop Snowball into my arms and give it a tight cuddle.
MC: Lucien, it's just too cute.
Upon seeing this, Lucien boops Snowball's nose, his tone hinting at jealousy.
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Lucien: You've been praising this little guy since earlier until now for so many times.
MC: Pfft, is Professor Lucien feeling jealous?
Lucien: After all, I was the one who wanted to make a good impression today, but I didn’t expect to be outshone by this "little attention-seeker".
MC: I think, it's actually quite timely that Snowball showed up.
I mischievously wink at him and raise Snowball triumphantly.
MC: Just when I couldn't think of any beautiful moments unrelated to you.
MC: The appearance of this cute little fellow right now just fills that gap perfectly~
Lucien: Is that so?
Lucien presses his lips together thoughtfully, his clean fingertips lightly tapping on the steering wheel. He puts his sunglasses back on and, as if on a whim, starts the car again.
Lucien: Buckle up your seatbelt, let's go.
MC: Huh? Where are we going? Aren't we supposed to wait for Snowball's owner?
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Lucien: MC's words just aroused my desire to win.
Lucien: In order not to lose to this little fellow, I have to put in some extra effort during these forty minutes of waiting.
Lucien: Before that, let's go find some more unexpected wonderful moments.
✂———————–
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Ten minutes later, Lucien drives us to a countryside field.
The golden sunlight blankets the emerald green grass, while wisps of light mist hover amidst the sea of green.
Excitedly, I hop out of the car while holding Snowball, and find myself unable to tear my eyes away from the beautiful scenery for a moment.
MC: It's so beautiful! Lucien, how did you know there's a place like this nearby?
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Lucien: We passed by here when Miss Producer was fully focused on playing the idiom chain game just now.
Lucien: The meeting point I arranged with Snowball's owner is very close to here, so it was convenient to stop by on the way.
MC: [sweats] What? During that intense idiom chain game just now, you still managed to notice the scenery on the sides of the road?
Upon hearing this, Lucien seriously crosses his arms, one hand supporting his chin as if deep in thought.
Lucien: Hmm, after all, even in such a tense moment, Miss Producer didn't forget to use "sweet words" to bribe her opponent.
MC: Pfft-
I can't help but laugh, but Snowball in my arms suddenly wriggles restlessly, as if trying to break free from my embrace.
MC: Do you want to go down and play?
I carefully place Snowball on the ground. It sniffs around with its tiny nose and then happily starts running around us.
MC: [laughs cheerfully] Hahaha, Snowball, you're so fearless, don't you?
MC: Even after such a day full of twists and turns, you can still play so happily!
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Lucien: A puppy's mind is very simple.
Lucien: Perhaps in its eyes, it simply unexpectedly took a risk to venture into an unfamiliar place and met with a beautiful and empathetic Jiejie (big sister) who understands it well.
Lucien: And now, this Jiejie has brought it to a playground where it can run freely, so why can't it be happy?
MC: Oh, come on, it's definitely the credit of this reasonable and understanding handsome Gege (big brother).
I jokingly gesture with my hand, but as I watch Snowball's carefree figure, I can't help but ponder Lucien's words with a thoughtful expression.
MC: That being said, it seems like any simple thing can easily make a puppy happy.
MC: Whether it's the company of its owner, a friendly pat from a stranger, a passing butterfly, or even just a small treat...
MC: I often see videos of dogs being scolded by their owners. One moment, they're scared out of their wits…
MC: Then, the next moment, as soon as their owners call their names with a smile, they instantly become happy again.
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MC: So, is life filled with beautiful moments everywhere in the eyes of a puppy?
As we talk, Snowball runs around a nearby grassy area and then returns to Lucien's feet, panting. It looks like it's tired from playing and eagerly starts pawing at his pants.
Lucien cooperatively lifts it, and it comfortably stretches lazily in his arms, then leans against his arm and rests.
Lucien pats its head, his expression somewhat resigned.
Lucien: I originally wanted to create a "wonderful moment" for MC, but it seems like Snowball is the one enjoying it more.
MC: Indeed, we should learn from puppies and embrace the spirit of enjoying every moment. I can't let Snowball beat me~
As I say this, I take a deep breath, and the fresh air instantly fills my heart.
MC: So pleasant... If it weren't for the tight schedule and better scenery waiting for us, I'd want to camp right here.
Lucien looks at me upon hearing this, seeming to contemplate something. After a moment, he gently places Snowball into my arms and gives me a mysterious wink.
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Lucien: I've received the classmate's wish, please wait a moment.
He walks around to the back of the car, opens the trunk, and folds down all the rear seats, creating a spacious area.
[Lucien’s car being an SUV is really useful in times like this huh-]
Then, he hangs the small decorative lanterns that were initially used for the tent on the roof of the car. Finally, he shakes out a small thin blanket and spreads it on top.
After finishing all this, he bends slightly and makes a gentlemanly invitation gesture.
Lucien: Please, have a seat.
MC: This is...
Lucien: Our time is indeed limited, not enough to set up a proper tent.
Lucien: So we'll have to use this "temporary camping spot" instead, I hope you two* don’t disdain it.
[T/N: He actually uses 小朋友 (literally means: child) as the term of endearment to refer both of them (so the more literal translation should be “I hope the two children don’t disdain it”). I change it for an obvious reason here, but I swear it’s not as bad as the english language makes it to be-]
I stand still for a moment as his intention dawns on me. Pink bubbles seem to bubble up in my chest, making my heart move up and down in the ripples it causes.
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I compliantly put on airs, playing along with his gesture as I cradle Snowball and settle into the car.
MC: Can you see a look of "disdain" on our faces?
I raise Snowball, showing a coy and obedient look at Lucien. Snowball, oblivious to the situation, cooperatively wags its tail and barks cheerfully at Lucien twice.
Lucien chuckles softly, then takes off his sunglasses with one hand, his gaze shifting between Snowball and me.
The vast expanse of clouds above his head begins to slowly drift away, revealing the warm and radiant sunshine.
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His deep gaze is imbued by the golden sky, revealing a hint of childlike innocence and simple contentment.
Lucien: Indeed, I can't see it, because I can only see two adorable faces.
His doting tone is unreserved, and I satisfactorily squint my eyes, my heart full of joy.
MC: This one-of-a-kind camping area, with Professor Lucien's intention behind it, is priceless and worth more than any amount of money.
MC: I cherish it so much; how could I possibly disdain it?
Snowball seems to understand my words. With a "woof", he jumps down and happily rolls around on the blanket.
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Both Lucien and I are amused by its adorable appearance. A gentle breeze blows by, and my entire heart feels light as if it's strolling in the clouds.
Our gazes lock into each other, and this tranquil moment is so beautiful that I truly want to record it in some way.
But I don't take out my phone to make a note. Instead, I instinctively reach out and gently pull Lucien to sit beside me.
The warmth beside me makes me unconsciously lean closer. I nuzzle his shoulder clingily, my heart filled with softness.
MC: Professor Lucien, you've succeeded.
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MC: Now my mind is filled with countless wonderful moments, and each of these moments is related to you-
MC: Me leaning on your shoulder, your scent filling my senses, and us sharing this unexpected encounter of scenery together...
MC: And even if these moments aren't intentionally recorded by me, it's okay.
MC: Because every little thing that has been happening with you has already integrated into my world since a long time ago.
The breath above my head becomes even more gentle and elongated. Lucien enfolds me in his arms, his warm breath almost as if it's seeping into the depths of my heart.
Lucien: I am honored to be part of all the “wonderful moments” of Miss MC.
Lucien: As the sole recipient of this “award”, I will remain humble and continue to work hard, bringing her even more happiness.
I smile in his arms, but suddenly, I think of something and pull myself away from him a bit.
MC: But it's not fair, I've listed so many 'wonderful moments' of my own. How come you haven't shared a single one with me?
Lucien seems taken aback by my sudden mention of this. He is struck silent for a moment, then a flicker of wounded expression crosses his face.
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Lucien: Perhaps because I thought even if I didn't say anything, MC would know what I’m thinking—
Lucien: My "list of wonderful moments" is very simple, so simple that it has only one item.
Lucien: Now, do you still need me to tell you this one and only item?
He stares steadily into my eyes, with an irreplaceable radiance that ebbs and flows in the depths of his gaze.
I softly laugh, and my entire heart feels as transparent and bright as if it has been meticulously polished.
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MC: No need.
I shook my head, the stray hair on my forehead bringing a slightly unbearable itch, gently brushing against my heart along with the gentle spring breeze.
I gently cup his cheek in the palm of my hand, and the world becomes unusually quiet, only the sound of two hearts beating can be heard.
MC: You don't need to say anything.
Because in those beautiful eyes, I only see myself.
————Fin———–
[Bonus Phone Call - Want it Now]
Lucien: Hello? Are you busy?
MC: So, I was about to take a lunch break—I was just thinking about you, and then your call came.
Lucien: It seems like there's always some kind of wonderful little tacit understanding between us.
Lucien: Then tell me about it.
MC: Haha, here's the thing. The company's pet club is planning a charity event.
MC: They plan to sell some handmade items and donate the proceeds to animal shelters. But I don't have any inspiration for what to make at the moment...
Lucien: Mm... I just received a delivery that might be helpful to you.
Lucien: The owner of Snowball sent us some things as a thank you. There are small felt keychains shaped like Snowball, as well as cartoon-style standees and cross-stitch fridge magnets.
Lucien: Looking at the note in the delivery box, it seems that the owner of Snowball designed them personally and also has the same ones at home.
Lucien: Perhaps we can also make some similar small items.
MC: Wow! They actually make these for their pet? The owner of Snowball is so thoughtful.
Lucien: You can tell that Snowball is truly cherished, so its owner makes these everyday little things, wanting its presence to fill every corner of their home.
MC: Hmm... Just like how my phone screensaver is you, and all the photos hanging around the home are of you?
Lucien: If what you're saying is that feeling of 'even when you're not around, I still want to see you first thing’...
Lucien: Then we're the same.
MC: I have another idea, I wonder if Professor Lucien shares the same idea as me.
Lucien: Hm?
MC: Even though my screensaver and chat background are pictures of you... I still want to see you right now.
Lucien: What a coincidence, I was thinking the same thing. So I've already brought your favorite milk tea and the Snowball keychain, and I'm on my way to see you.
Lucien: I checked the navigation, and the route from the research institute to your company is very smooth.
Lucien: In twenty minutes, both of our wishes will come true.
57 notes · View notes
rosiehunterwolf · 3 years
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stuck with you (through bright and blue)
Prompts: Protective
Word Count: 4,400
Characters: The squad
Timeline: Pre-movie movie!verse
Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, Toxic Friendship
Summary: Kai only wants two things: to protect Lloyd, and to give him the best birthday ever. Unfortunately, Lloyd seems hell-bent on making that as difficult as possible. Kai’s always prided himself on achieving the impossible, but dealing with human emotions is much more complicated than beating up Garmadon’s generals or shooting enemies with fire, as he quickly learns. Movie!verse
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Read on FFN.net
Read on Ao3
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“Woah, it looks like a massacre in here.”
At the sound of Cole’s voice, Kai, Jay, Lloyd, and Zane looked up from the map they had sprawled out across the table. Red pen was everywhere, circling different buildings and connecting them with lines.
“We’re having trouble finding a venue for Lloyd’s party,” Zane explained.
Nya rolled her eyes. “It’s not that hard! Just pick somewhere!” She held a hand out, shaking her phone. “We have five days until his birthday. Most places require at least that many to book a reservation. If we don’t decide today, we’ll have nowhere to go.”
“We can’t just pick anywhere,” Kai insisted. “It has to be perfect!”
“Why don’t we just go to the arcade?”
“It’s always so busy there.”
“It’s a Wednesday night! How many people are going to be there?”
“Trust me,” Jay said, “It’s still busy. It always is.”
Cole peered at the map. “Why’d you cross off the movie theater? Isn’t there a new Starfarer movie Lloyd’s been wanting to see?”
Kai shook his head. “Tickets sold out in like five hours. By the time school was over and we got over there, they were all gone.”
Jay frowned, running his fingers along one of the major streets. “What’s your favorite restaurant, Lloyd?”
“A restaurant? Are you serious?” Cole laughed. “We’d get kicked out in ten minutes.”
“Why can’t we just do it at my place?” Lloyd murmured. “I don’t need anything big deal.”
Kai frowned. “Your apartment isn’t that big, Lloyd. And I don’t want to bother your mom with all the decorations and stuff.”
Lloyd shrugged, looking down. “It doesn’t need to be big.”
“If you really want something simple,” Nya said, “why don’t we just do it at the warehouse? It’ll just be us, but there’s lots of space.”
Zane nodded. “That space would suffice. We would just have to ask Master Wu.”
“That is, if you’re certain that’s what you want.” Nya looked at Lloyd closely. “You sure you don’t want to do anything else?”
Lloyd nodded.
“Positive, bud?” Kai pushed. “Because it’s your birthday. We don’t mind at all.”
“I’m fine,” Lloyd insisted, getting to his feet. “It’s just another day on the calendar. Don’t make such a big fuss.”
The ninja fell silent.
“Lloyd,” Nya murmured, “it is a big deal to us.”
“Sorry. I’m just tired. And I’ve got homework. I should go.”
“Lloyd, wait-”
The green ninja pulled away from Kai’s outstretched hand. “I’m fine, Kai. I just have to go. Call me if you need anything.”
---
When they went back to school on Monday, their teachers loaded them with assignments, and Kai didn’t have a spare minute to talk to Lloyd in their shared classes. He couldn’t even talk at lunch because Lloyd had to make up a test. He kept his eyes peeled for his friend every time he was in the hallways, but if there was one thing Lloyd was good at, it was not being seen.
At the end of the school day, Nya texted him to meet up near their lockers. He got there and found her huddled around her locker with Cole, Jay, and Zane.
Kai walked over to them. “What’s going on? Where’s Lloyd?”
“He said he’d catch up with us later, which is why now is the perfect time for party preparation,” Jay said, gesturing towards Nya, who had a fiercely determined look on her face and was tightly clutching a clipboard. “Apparently she’s been waiting her whole life for this.”
“Alright.” Nya looked up from her clipboard. “I’ve already got streamers and gift wrap at home. What about you guys?”
“I’ve got a banner ordered with his name on it,” Cole said. “And of course, the shark tablecloths-”
Jay blinked. “Sharks?”
“Yeah. He loves sharks.”
“No, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong! We’re getting the dragon ones! He loves dragons!”
“Well, yeah, duh, but he’d obviously like the shark one better.”
“Are you kidding? Sharks would remind him of his dad’s mechs!” “Yeah, well, dragons remind him of his mech, which also reminds him of fighting his dad.”
“Totally not the same, plus dragons are way cooler-”
“Okay, we’re going with the Starfarer ones, then,” Nya grumbled. “What about balloons? Who’s covering-”
“I have balloons,” Zane interrupted. “Two hundred and seventy-five of them.”
They gawked at him.
“Zane… why do you have so many balloons just lying around?” Jay asked.
“They are new! In the package! I can blow them up for Lloyd’s birthday party-”
“Shhhhh!” Four pairs of hands immediately pushed over his mouth, silencing him, even though they were the only ones in the very empty hallway.
“No one can find out,” Cole insisted. “This is Lloyd’s special day. We’re not about to let anyone ruin it.”
“Okay, so Zane’s got the balloons.” Nya ticked another item off the list. “What about the cake? I have most of the ingredients to make one at home, but I’m completely lacking the baking skills.”
Cole nodded. “I can bake a cake. What’s his favorite kind?”
“Lloyd likes that Funfetti one,” Kai murmured.
Cole’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not baking a box mix. I can get him the rainbow sprinkles, though, and make a homemade one.”
“Okay, sounds good. Jay, could you pick up some confetti before his birthday? And Zane, we need some fun paper plates.”
“Zane, you should get shark ones.”
“No, dragons!” “Zane will pick out whichever plates he likes,” Nya snapped.
“What about gifts?” Jay asked. “What are you guys getting?”
“I’m not telling you,” Nya yelped. “I have the best gift ever and I don’t want you stealing any ideas.”
“I’ve been setting aside pieces of my allowance for a month,” Cole grinned. “It’s gonna be sweet.”
Jay blinked at him expectantly, and Cole smirked. “I’m not telling you, either, blabbermouth.”
“Blabbermouth?” he yelped. “I can keep secrets perfectly fine, thank you.”
“Oh yeah? What about that time you nearly gave away all of our ninja identities?”
“Or-” Zane added, “when he and Lloyd were working on those surprise mech upgrades and he accidentally said something in front of Kai and Nya?”
“Oh, remember when he spoiled the finale of Cole’s favorite show?” Nya grinned. “Cole was pissed.”
“Okay, okay, so there were a few times,” Jay spluttered. “But those were a while ago! I have many more secrets that I have kept than I haven’t.”
Cole crossed his arms, smirking. “Name one.”
“Well, there was that one time, where I- hey!” He stopped, glaring at Cole. “You’re trying to trick me into telling you a secret!”
“And it very nearly worked. So no. You can’t know.”
Nya shrugged. “Sorry, Jay. He’s right. When you have a secret, you get nervous. And when you’re nervous, you talk. A lot. It would only be a matter of time before you spilled everything to Lloyd.”
“Fine,” Jay muttered. “Keep your secrets.”
Kai jumped slightly as Nya elbowed him, and she frowned. “You okay? You’ve been really quiet.”
Kai shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Is it just me, or… did Lloyd seem like he doesn’t really want a birthday party?”
The others went quiet.
“We’re not going to not give him a party,” Nya insisted. “You know how he gets. He never wants anyone to make a fuss.” Her brow furrowed. “It’s like he still can’t get it into his skull that we care about him.”
“I mean, of course I want to, it’s just… we can’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want.” Kai bit his lip. “It’s been a rough past few months for him. I just want him to be happy.”
“We all do,” Cole agreed. “Lloyd deserves a night just about him, for once.”
Zane frowned. “But how are we supposed to give him the party that he wants if he won’t tell us what he wants?”
“Let me try to talk to him,” Kai said. “He might open up more if it’s just one of us there.”
---
Lloyd, in fact, did not want to talk.
He was more open during their classes the next day, and held casual conversation with him, but forcefully avoided the topic of his birthday whenever Kai brought it up.
He huffed with frustration. What kind of kid didn’t want to celebrate their birthday? He wished Lloyd would just tell him what was going on.
He wasn’t going to, though, so naturally, the next best thing was to follow him.
He wouldn’t call it spying- just finding another way of obtaining information when Lloyd refused to give it himself. Besides, he was doing this to help Lloyd, not to hurt him.
Kai jerked himself out of his thoughts as Lloyd nearly slipped from his view. He gritted his teeth, refocusing on him. Lloyd wasn’t an easy person to follow, either.
When he finally caught up to him, keeping a reasonable distance, of course, Lloyd was hovering near his locker. An unfamiliar, dark-haired kid was leaning against it, laughing at something as Lloyd smiled uneasily. Kai edged closer, his frown deepening.
“Where’s the spike head? And the rest of your gang?”
“Kai?” Lloyd shifted. “I dunno. He probably had homework and stuff to do.”
The guy shrugged. “I kind of found him annoying, anyway. You realize no one could ever get to you when your friends were around, right?”
“I guess that’s… kind of the point.”
“You can’t spend your whole life letting them protect you. If you block out any person who hurts you, you block out anyone who could potentially be a friend, too.” The guy smiled in a way that made Kai wanted to chuck himself between Lloyd and the guy.
“That’s… that’s the thing. No one wants to be nice to me.”
“Spare me the sob story,” the guy rolled his eyes. “I know your dad sucks, but at least you have one.”
Lloyd flinched. “Sorry.”
The guy laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder and shoving him. “Stop being so jumpy, will ya? No wonder kids pick on you, you’re as harmless as a flea.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Lloyd blinked. “I can’t hit them back, or I’ll be in more trouble than I already am.”
“You don’t need to hit them, just show them you’re not a total coward! Maybe if you actually listen to them instead of cringing away, things might change.”
“Listen to them? Are you saying they’re right?”
“What does it matter if they’re right? Look, Lloyd, you’ve already got it hard enough as it is, and you’re making everything more difficult. You’d be so much cooler if you actually hung out with important people and not the outcast-losers you’ve stationed yourself with.”
For the first time since the conversation had started, Lloyd appeared indignant. “They’re not- I mean, you’re not-”
The guy laughed. “See? You can’t even get a word out. You’re so pathetic. You don’t even need the fact that you’re Garmadon’s son to get picked on, you already got it all set up for the torment-”
Kai wasn’t aware of himself pushing forward, he just was, and suddenly he was gripping the guy by the collar of his shirt, a pair of wide, brown eyes staring fearfully up into his.
“Who do you think you are and what the hell are you doing?”
“I… um, I…” the guy swallowed, his throat running dry.
“You treating my best friend like a piece of shit?” Kai shook him. “Are you?”
“I’m sorry!” The guy squirmed. “I didn’t really mean it, we were just joking around, he says that kind of stuff to me all the time!”
“Really? Lloyd. Says that. You sure we’re talking about the same person? Because I do not take nicely to liars.”
The guy squirmed harder. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! Just please let me go, I’ll never bother you again!” Kai shot him the fiercest glare he could muster. “You better not.” He stepped back, dropping the kid, and he took off like a bullet.
Turning back to Lloyd, he saw his friend was staring at the fleeing boy with wide, disbelieving eyes, but it quickly dissipated to anger as he turned to Kai. “What the heck did you do that for?”
Kai’s eyes widened. “I was protecting you? From a bully?” Lloyd’s eyes flashed, and Kai actually took a step back. “I don’t need you to protect me! I can fight my own battles!”
Before Kai could even say anything, Lloyd was storming down the hallway and disappearing around the corner.
Kai just stood there for a moment, in shock. What was that all about? Hadn’t he done the same thing for Lloyd a dozen times? Why would defending him ever be bad?
A buzz in his pocket interrupted his thoughts. Kai pulled out his phone to see a new message in the chat from his sister.
irondragonfangirl: how r things going with lloyd
MasterofFiyaaaaa: honestly? i think i made it worse
irondragonfangirl: well u better find a way to fix it soon because his bday’s TOMORROW
MasterofFiyaaaaa: yeah i’ll find a way through to him
MasterofFiyaaaaa: i just hope he listens
irondragonfangirl: don’t worry
irondragonfangirl: he will
irondragonfangirl: just make sure u remember to listen to him too
irondragonfangirl: i have a feeling we haven’t been doing that enough
irondragonfangirl: i feel terrible
MasterofFiyaaaaa: yeah me too
MasterofFiyaaaaa: we’ll make it up to him though
MasterofFiyaaaaa: right?
irondragonfangirl: sure as long as cole doesn’t burn this cake
irondragonfangirl: seriously y did we let him bake it
irondragonfangirl: if i dont respond in the next hour just assume his house burnt down and im dead
MasterofFiyaaaaa: can i have your motorcycle if you die
irondragonfangirl: shut up
---
Kai spent an hour looking for Lloyd after their confrontation, but he couldn’t find him anywhere, and Lloyd, unsurprisingly, hadn’t answered any of the twenty-some texts Kai had sent him, either. Eventually, he had to give up looking for him and resigned to speaking to him at school tomorrow.
His birthday.
In the first class they had together, Lloyd avoided looking at him, and Kai felt an ache in his chest. Today was his birthday. He knew things weren’t going to turn out like he had imagined, but he wanted them to at least be better than this.
Swallowing back his nerves, Kai walked over to him, where he was doodling something in his notebook.
Kai cleared his throat. “Um. Lloyd?”
Lloyd looked up, an expression flashing across his face that Kai couldn’t read, but he didn’t immediately leave or turn away from him, which Kai took as a good sign.
“Happy birthday, dude.”
Lloyd smiled tentatively back. “Thanks.”
Things didn’t go immediately back to normal after that- there was still a tension between them, and Lloyd wasn’t saying much more than a couple sentences at a time, firmly avoiding the topic of the previous day- but at least it was back to a level where Kai didn’t feel absolutely horrible for ruining his day. Lunch, at least, got a smile out of him- as well as a bunch of embarrassed blushing as Nya stabbed a candle into his brownie (they couldn’t actually light it, lighters weren’t allowed on campus) and they insisted on singing to him so off-key that Cole looked like he wanted to punch them.
When the last bell finally rang, Kai headed over to Lloyd’s locker, hoping they could talk now that there weren’t other kids around, but he wasn’t there.
Kai relented, pulling out his phone.
MasterofFiyaaaaa: Lloyd? i know youre upset but can we plz talk?
He held his breath, staring at the screen intensely, as if that would make Lloyd respond.
While he was waiting, a message from a group chat popped up.
irondragonfangirl: what’s taking so long jay, we need those decorations
jaybird123: eta 5 mins
jaybird123: i literally just left class how’d you get there so fast
jaybird123: wait you didn’t use the tunnels did you
irondragonfangirl: no me and cole are bringing the CAKE remember?
irondragonfangirl: im not taking that through the tunnel
irondragonfangirl: we didnt spend 3 hrs on that for it to get squished
irondragonfangirl: i told the nurse i wasn’t feeling well so i could go home early
irondragonfangirl: why didnt YOU take them
jaybird123: i couldn’t exactly discreetly smuggle all these decorations into my locker
jaybird123: mmm cake. is it good?
irondragonfangirl: don’t even THINK about it, that’s not until Lloyd gets here
jaybird123: but im hungryyyy
jaybird123: do i need to pick up anything for dinner?
rock’n’cole: nah it’s cool, we just found out lloyd’s favorite chinese restaurant, the Bamboo Dragon, delivers so we’re gonna order from there
jaybird123: my mouth is watering already
ZaneJulien:0xD;): Jay, you shouldn’t text while driving.
jaybird123: tell nya to get off my case then!
irondragonfangirl: exCUSE me zane you are supposed to be putting up those balloons right now why are YOU on your phone
ZaneJulien:0xD;): Why are you texting me? We are in the same room.
irondragonfangirl: why are YOU texting ME
rock’n’cole: would you guys just stop being dumb and come help me
irondragonfangirl: great now you got cole in on it too
rock’n’cole: would you two just GET OFF YOUR PHONES
Kai was interrupted from whatever turn the conversation was going to take next when he finally got another notification.
thegreendragon: ok. you know where i’ll be
Kai blinked, turning towards the doors and pushing through them, walking out onto the school lawn. The main feature was the football stadium, although there were other things as well- large trees, garden patches for the science classes, picnic tables for eating lunch outside, if the weather permitted. And- although the students were too old for recess, now- there was still a small swing set- a simple, rusty thing, with only two swings, but it served its purpose. Sitting on one of them, gently rocking, was Lloyd.
Kai made his way over, sitting down beside him in the other swing.
“So, uh… can we talk? About yesterday?”
Lloyd nodded, and Kai titled his head at him, trying to gauge his thoughts. “Who was that kid?”
Lloyd breathed out slowly. “His name is Brad. He was my best- and only- friend in elementary school, but we were separated when I moved away. Brad’s family just recently moved to Ninjago City, and I… I was hoping to reconnect with him.”
Kai ignored the twinge of jealousy at the words “best friends.” Lloyd was allowed to have other people than him in his life, and things had obviously changed since then, anyway.
“I’m sorry, Lloyd. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but from what I saw… Brad was being a jerk to you.”
Lloyd shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I… he’s changed since we were kids. The efforts at rekindling our friendship honestly aren’t going so well. That’s… that’s why I was in a bad mood. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were only trying to do something nice for me.” “Don’t worry about me. But this Brad kid… anyone who treats you like that doesn’t deserve to be your friend.”
“I know, I just…” Lloyd sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I was so eager to make a friend other than you guys…” His eyes widened as he processed his own words. “Not there’s anything wrong with you guys, it’s just- I just wanted to actually earn someone who wasn’t friends with me because of a shared occupation.”
Kai elbowed him. “Hey. This whole ninja thing may be what got us introduced to each other, but we’re not friends with you because you’re one of the ninja. We’re your friends because we love you as a person. As Lloyd, not the green ninja.”
Lloyd sniffed, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks, Kai. I’m glad I have you to protect me.”
“You don’t need protection, but you’re stuck with me as a best friend, so you’re going to get it, anyway.”
Lloyd laughed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His phone buzzed, and he quickly checked it.
irondragonfangirl: the party’s all set up, now the only thing missing is lloyd. did you get to talk to him?
MasterofFiyaaaaa: yeah, we’re cool now. on our way
Kai turned back to Lloyd. “C’mon, green machine. Let’s go enjoy your birthday.”
Lloyd blinked at him. “Huh?”
“Your party, remember? The one Nya and the guys have spent the whole week planning? Or is there some other celebration I don’t know about?”
Lloyd shook his head. “No, no, it’s just- I thought I messed it all up.”
“Don’t worry, we got it under control.”
“Really?”
“This is our teammates you’re talking about! Stubborn as mules. They’re not giving up on you that easily.”
“I… thank you. Thank you guys.”
“You can tell them yourself. We’re going to this party, and we’re going to have fun!”
---
Kai had to admit, he was impressed with what the others had been able to pull off in such a short amount of time.
It was nothing huge or extravagant, but it was a nice little party, and Lloyd seemed to like it better like that, anyway.
They were barely through the doors of the warehouse when Jay was launching himself into Lloyd’s arms, pulling him into a tight hug, the others close behind.
“Happy birthday!” they cheered.
Lloyd hugged them back, laughing. “Thanks, guys, I didn’t- I didn’t expect all this!”
“Are you kidding?” Nya put her hands on her hips, grinning. “We’re pulling out all the stops for our baby bro.”
Lloyd’s smile briefly flickered to a scowl. “I’m not a baby.”
“To us, you always will be,” Kai said, slinging an arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair. Lloyd squirmed away, although he was unable to hide the grin on his face.
“Wow, this place really looks different.” Lloyd gazed around at the warehouse with wide eyes. They had pushed aside training equipment to make room for tables and chairs, and green and gold streamers decorated the walls, adorned by multicolored balloons. Someone had plugged a gaming console into the TV, as well as a DVD player next to a box of DVDs- which must’ve been Jay’s, he was the only person Kai knew, apart from Master Wu, who even had DVDs anymore- because Kai still hadn’t been able to convince Master Wu to buy them Netflix on the warehouse’s TV, getting the TV there in the first place had been hard enough as it was. On the far end was a buffet table, filled with rice, chicken, dumplings, and other Chinese staples from the Bamboo Dragon- as well as a beautiful, heavily frosted cake in the center of it all. It was decorated with rainbow sprinkles, making it completely and uniquely Lloyd.
Lloyd’s eyes were on the cake too, his eyes wide. “Cole! It looks amazing! I never knew you were so good at making cakes!”
Cole shrugged, trying to hide his smile. “I’ve had some experience.”
“Hey! What makes you think Cole made it?” Nya sniffed.
Cole blinked. “I did.”
“Well, I helped.”
Cole snorted. “Don’t know if you could call it that. From my point of view, it seems like I was doing most of the work while you were busy texting your boo.”
Both Nya and Jay turned scarlet.
“I was not,” Nya spluttered. “I was making preparations for Lloyd’s party!” “Yeah, yeah, whatever you have to tell yourself.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions too hastily,” Jay said, turning to walk over to the cake. “The true judge of quality will be how good it tastes.”
Nya stuck an arm in front of him. “Not so fast, mister! Dinner first.”
After laughing, playing games, and eating, they insisted on opening presents. Lloyd was all smiles and gratitude with each one, which ended up sparking a debate between the others about whose gift he liked best.
“He totally loved my gift!” “Nuh-uh! Did you see the way he smiled a little differently on mine?”
“Jay, you literally gave him a book. Why would he be excited about that?”
“Not just any book! A first edition Starfarer collector’s comic from when my parents were kids, and in mint condition, too!”
“Why would you want some dusty old comic when you could have the newest Starfarer video game?” Kai argued. “It took forever for me to find one of these, they were sold out everywhere.”
“Starfarer this, Starfarer that,” Cole sighed. “I don’t understand how he could possibly need any more Starfarer things. The record I engraved for him is way more personable and unique.”
“You guys are thinking about this all wrong! You should’ve gotten him a katana like me, something that he actually needs and uses.”
“Statistically, Lloyd spends more time drawing than any other hobby,” Zane said. “Which means my gift of an art book and new set of pencils is logically the best fit.”
“Clearly you guys all have it wrong in the head-”
“Guys, relax,” Lloyd laughed. “I loved all your gifts equally.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Jay… it means exactly what you think it means.”
“You can’t even pick one gift?”
Lloyd shook his head. “No way. These are all amazing. Thank you, guys. Really.” His gaze met Kai’s for a long beat. “For everything.”
“Of course. But, just to make things clear, you did like mine the most, right? You’re just saying you liked them equally, so that you didn’t make the others feel bad?”
Lloyd smacked his forehead as the others burst into protest again, and Kai shot him a sharp-edged grin. “I can do this all night.”
Eventually, Lloyd got them to stop bickering- the mention of cake got them all quiet pretty quickly- and after divvying it up, they went over to the couch and played the video game Kai had gotten him. He quickly lost track of time, but time didn’t matter. Even if it meant they would be tired for school the next day, seeing Lloyd like this- half sprawled over his teammates, brow scrunched in concentration as he mashed buttons on his controller, hints of frosting on his lips as he tried and failed miserably to bite back his laughter- it was worth it. He looked happier than Kai had seen him in weeks.
For that, he could even contain himself from bragging about how Lloyd obviously liked his gift best.
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ijustwant2write · 4 years
Text
The Last Five Years-Fred Weasley x Reader
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(GIF credit to @hp-wizardingtrash-1​)
(I combined two requests which were very similar)
Both Requested by anonymous: ‘Hey! Can you do a Fred Weasley imagine where him and the reader dated in their last year but Fred broke up with her cause he was leaving and he didn’t want to hurt her. But the reader was pregnant so she leaves right after. So no one knows what happened to her. After the war maybe like 5 years later (Fred lives), something happens maybe the kid needs blood from both parents because he’s sick and they need that for surgery, so the reader goes to Fred begging for blood and Fred learns the truth.’
‘Hey! Can I request a Fred Weasley imagine where the reader was pregnant (back when they in school) but Fred dumps her when he’s leaving to start the shop. (But he still loves her) and the reader has twins, a boy and a girl, who are just like him and George. After the war (Fred lives) something happens where he finds out, (up to you). And both Fred and the reader still love each other. Happy cute family ending.‘
Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, Molly Weasley x Reader (platonic), Arthur Weasley x Reader (platonic)
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
(Y/S/N)=Your son’s name
(Y/D/N)=Your daughter’s name
Warnings: Teenage pregnancy, talk about abortions, abandonment, single parenting, separated families, mention of blood, sickness, child sickness, mention of hospitals/blood, fluff
                                    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Leaning against a stone pillar, I looked out at the view of the lake and the grounds, crossing my arms across my chest to make myself feel warmer. I resisted touching my stomach, still terrified at the thought of life growing in there. I was only seventeen, I hadn't even finished my studying at Hogwarts and this was happening. This wasn't something Fred and I could joke about, or laugh at to make the situation a little better, this was serious, and I couldn't tell how my boyfriend would react.
Feeling a tap on my shoulder, my head whipped round to look, but no one was there. As my head turned to the other side, Fred towered over me, chuckling to himself. But I couldn't bring myself to even smile, instead rolling my eyes at him.
"Hey, what's wrong? I'm sorry I'm late, George and I were speaking, I've got so much to tell you!" he rambled, not taking offence to my action.
"Something...Fred, I...I don't know what to do!" I suddenly started sobbing, which panicked my boyfriend.
He instantly put his arms around me, holding me tight into his chest. At first he let me cry, probably thinking I was stressed about exams (I definitely was on top of everything) before pushing me away and bending down to look me in the eyes.
"Hey, let's sit down yeah?" he guided me to a bench close by, keeping his arms around me as we took a seat.
I couldn't stop my tears, trying to keep quiet in case anyone heard, or before any professors could intervene.
"Here, let me tell you what George and I have been discussing. It'll take your mind off this for a bit, yeah? OK, so, you know how George and I have always said about owning a joke shop, well, something has come through. And after all this stuff going on with Umbridge, we've decided to leave-"
"I'm pregnant." I blurted out.
Unsurprisingly, his eyes widened, mouth dropping open, I could feel his body tense up. Staring up at him, I silently pleaded for him to say something.
"Fred?" I mumbled.
"(Y/N), please say you're joking."
"This isn't a fucking prank Fred!" I exclaimed, shoving him away from me."I’m serious!"
"W-what...I don't know what to say."
I stood up, not able to sit still."Fred, we're having a baby. What are we going to do? We've still got exams, and then graduation, not to mention having to tell our parents and-"
"(Y/N), I'm not doing my exams."
"What do you mean you're not doing your exams? Fred, it's literally coming to the end of our studies, why would you throw that away?"
"Because I have a plan, I was just about to tell you! George and I are leaving early and we're getting a shop in Diagon Alley."
"Are you crazy?! Fred, what if it doesn't work? You won't have any exam results, you won't be able to apply for jobs-"
"Well thanks for believing in me, that's great to hear from your girlfriend!" he leapt up from the bench.
"You know I support you through everything, but I'm thinking about our futures! If we have a baby on the way, we need to be able to support it."
"We haven't planned for this! This...this wasn't what I envisioned for us, not now!"
"Oh, and you think I did?"
"Well, what are you going to do?"
"What am I going to do? No, it should be what are we going to do? How dare you?! What, are you just going to leave me as well as Hogwarts?"
When he didn't reply, I scoffed, but it wasn't in an angry way, it was more upsetting than that. My mind went into overdrive, not recognising the man in front of me. I had expected shock, of course I had, but what I wasn't expecting was this rudeness, the bluntness coming from him.
"Fred," I was quieter now,"what are you saying right now?"
"You want to keep it?"
"I...I don't really know yet."
"So we're arguing about something that might not even effect us!"
"Even if we got rid of it, it wouldn't be a matter of 'let's just forget about it'. Do you know how hard that is for a woman? And the father?"
He hastily grabbed my hands."Then leave with me! We've always talked about living together after we finish school. What difference does this make?"
"I want to do my exams Fred! Even if I didn't, my parents wouldn't allow it. And that was easier to plan for back then. It would just be us. We could have a small space anywhere. But with a baby? We need somewhere safe, somewhere that is a good place to raise them, and we also need to feed three people, buy nappies, clothes constantly because babies grow a lot-"
"I can't do it." he interrupted.
"Fred, please, I love you. I know we can figure something out-"
"No, I...we're too young, this isn't fair." his eyes were distant, as if he was staring straight through me. 
"What you're saying isn't fair! I couldn't have done this by myself."
"I just...I don't know what else to say I..." 
He said no more as he rushed away from me, and I was too stunned to go after him. As he picked up the pace, he passed Mcgonagall, who glanced between us before she approached me. "I think we should have a word Madam Pomfrey, shouldn't we Miss (Y/L/N)?"
                                           *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Mummy!" (Y/S/N) yelled out, just like he did every day.
I sighed as I brought out the kids breakfast, setting it in front of them."Don't worry, you're not going to starve. Here you go darling."
"Thanks." he mumbled, picking up his spoon and eating. He was always more awake in the morning compared to his sister.
"Thank you mummy." (Y/D/N) quietly said, also digging into her food.
I smiled at them both, quietly laughing at their wild hair from their sleep, before grabbing myself a bowl of cereal. Quickly returning, I sat down with them, my smile faltering as I looked at (Y/D/N) pale face.
"Do we have to go hospital today?" she asked. She hated how many times we had to go, the appointments were becoming more and more regular.
I nodded."Yes darling. But (Y/S/N) is coming today, because he's not at school for a while! You can play together whilst we wait for the doctor."
"I'll play with you (Y/D/N)." her brother kindly said.
"I don't want to go." (Y/D/N) frowned.
"We have to. Remember, they're helping you get better." 
"I want to play at home." 
"I promise it won't be very long. We've got our trip soon, haven't we?" 
"How many more days mummy?" (Y/S/N) excitedly asked. 
"Only two! We need to start packing your bags." 
(Y/S/N) started to chat away about this trip he knew nothing about, listing every single item he was bringing, whereas his sister was silent as she finished her breakfast. She had been a sickly child compared to her healthy twin brother. The hospital had diagnosed her, and explained that I needed to ask family members to have blood tests, to see if they matched with her and could help in any way. My side of the family had no luck, and after much deliberation with myself (and my parents), I knew I had to see Fred again, I had to face him. But with my little girl so ill, so weak, I would face down Voldemort himself to make her well again. Though I had a feeling seeing 'He who shall not be named' would be a lot easier than seeing the father of my children. 
The day of the trip came, and the kids were excited. We had packed their tiny suitcases, and I an overnight bag, before setting off. All day I had kept a smile on my face, not wanting to worry them. They thought it was a mini holiday, something we had never been on due to money. For five years it had been the three of us, with me at work, then at school and their grandparents when I had a late shift before cuddling up in bed with a good story together. It was a simple life, but they brought me so much joy, I couldn't express how happy they made me if I tried, it was infinite. And now I was taking them to meet their father I had avoided talking about, I was worried what it would do to our bond. 
"That's a strange house mummy." (Y/D/N) said as we approached the Burrow, a place I had spent much time in. 
"This is where your other grandparents live. It's very nice here. And they are very nice people." I said as we continued walking. 
"We say, we say please and thank you, don't we mummy?" (Y/S/N) added.
I giggled."Yes, we do."
We were now stood outside of the house, right in front of the door, but I still clutched onto my children's hands. They were confused as to why I wasn't knocking, why I was standing still. It was as if I was frozen. So when (Y/S/N) boldly stepped forward and knocked, I was pulled out of my trance. Before I could say anything to him, I heard movement coming from the other side of the door, and pulled him back towards me. There was no turning back now. Molly opened the door, her jaw almost hitting the floor as she set her eyes on me, then the kids, which is when she gasped. I bravely smiled, taking a deep breath to hold back the tears.
"H-Hi Molly. I'm...I'm really S-sorry just showing up out of the b-blue-" I couldn't stop stuttering over my words,"but...but I thought it was time you met your grandchildren."
Molly had immediately ushered me inside, throwing her arms around me as soon as the door closed. Holding my face in her hands, she studied my face, seeing how much I had changed over the years.
"I can't believe you're here!" she quietly exclaimed."It's been so many years."
"I'm sorry Molly. I didn't mean to disappear." I began welling up, trying to hold it back in front of the kids.
"Dear, don't apologise for a thing. We can talk about this later." she comforted me, stepping back to look at her grandchildren."So, these are your children?"
"My twins, ironically. (Y/D/N), (Y/S/N), this is your nan, Molly."
They stayed close to me, only (Y/S/N) letting go of my hand. I gently encouraged them forwards, pushing them towards Molly. She used the table beside her to help her kneel down, slowly extending her arms out to them. I felt overwhelmed as (Y/S/N) cautiously stepped towards her, hugging Molly before leaving her embrace again. It was one of those shy hugs kids gave, when they knew it was the right/polite thing to do but weren't sure of it themselves.
Molly was the only one in the house, and we let the kids play as we sat and caught up on what happened in the last five years. For me, there was a slight awkward tension in the air, but Molly's warm smile made me forget about that. I'm sure she had tons of questions as to why I never brought the twins round, and why I only showed up when I wanted something.
"Why don't you stay the night? I can hardly get Fred to stop by now. But there's plenty of room." Molly offered.
"Oh, only if that's alright with you! That would be very helpful. Um, do you think he’ll even want to see me?”
She kindly smiled as she slowly nodded.“My son is still just as infatuated with you as he was all those years ago.”
I refrained from snapping about how he never sent a letter, checked to even see if I was alright, if I had kept the pregnancy going. But then again, I had also cut off any contact with him, so it wasn’t entirely fair for me to say that. However, I was the one carrying twins by herself, raising them as a single mother (my family helped as much as they could, though no one could replace a father figure). And although the catch up with Molly had been good, it had lifted this tension from my body, I hated how my stomach twisted at the thought of Fred showing up here. Hi reaction was completely unknown. He could have moved on, maybe Molly was just wanting us together again; what if he was seeing someone, someone without children, someone who was free to do what they wanted and more fun than I was? He could easily turn a blind eye to it all. Or perhaps he would want to be a part of the family now. But why should I let him in after all these years? He missed five years of their life, and I understood that he would have no clue where we were, though there were ways of tracking us down. My mind was conflicted, I was here to make (Y/D/N) better, that was the top priority.
When Arthur returned that evening, he wore the same expression Molly had had when I first arrived. Although he was happy to see me, he wasn’t shouting or bouncing off the walls, he was more concerned; asking me all these questions, wanting me to go in depth about (Y/D/N)’s illness and how they could help. Both of them agreed they would help, and that once I spoke with Fred, they would ask the rest of the family also. 
Molly had laid out a full breakfast the next morning, though I really didn’t feel like eating. The kids got stuck right in, eating more food than I think I’ve ever seen them eat. They weren’t used to treats like this, we weren’t extremely poor, but even a fancy cereal was out of the question for us. I shared a smile with Molly and Arthur, thanking them for their hospitality. (Y/S/N) and (Y/D/N) were more comfortable with them, sometimes talking to them, or showing their toys. As we sat at the table, our plate and bowls now empty, Arthur gestured for me to follow him to the other room.
“(Y/N), I just wanted to make sure you were ready for today. I’ve had this same talk with Fred.” he quietly said.
I looked down at my feet, my arms crossing over my chest.“I don’t think I’ll ever be fully ready to see him again.”
“You have been very brave coming here. I can see how difficult this is for you. But I understand wanting to look after your children, it’s a feeling you only ever experience once you have them. Molly and I spoke last night. Even if, for some bizarre reason, Fred doesn’t...he doesn’t....”
“He doesn’t want to be around us.”
Arthur sighed sadly.“We will still help you. And you always have a place here, you always have family here.”
I hugged him, feeling like a child again in his arms. I felt protected, like nothing could hurt me whilst I was here. When we returned to the others, Molly was already clearing everything away, (Y/D/N) and (Y/S/N) talking each others ears off. Molly denied my help as I offered, knowing that I was very nervous and wanted the kids ready, as well as myself before their father arrived. I was happy that they were in a good mood, talking amongst themselves rather than asking lots of questions. But I still needed to sit them down, tell them who they were meeting today.
“You two look amazing!” I beamed, sitting them down on the edge of the bed, me kneeling in front of them.
“Mummy looks...mummy looks like a princess.” (Y/D/N) giggled as she clutched onto her own princess doll.
“Thank you. Do you guys remember why I said we were coming here?” 
“To meet daddy.”
“Yeah.” my voice turned shaky.“So, we need to be really good today OK? You guys were so good yesterday, and I need you to be like that again please. Me and daddy might need to talk for a while, so you two can play together, or with granddad Arthur and grandmother Molly.”
“Where is daddy?” (Y/S/N) asked.
“He’s on his way.”
“No, not, not now. Where has he been? Because all my friends have daddies, they have mummies and daddies, but I don’t.”
“He’s...he’s been....” 
How was I supposed to explain this to a five year old?
“It’s a bit confusing darling. But that doesn’t matter because he’s here now.”
(Y/D/N) looked away from her doll.“Will he come home with us?”
“I don’t know. Just don’t be upset if he doesn’t. We’ve been fine, just the three of us, haven’t we?”
They nodded, and I pulled them in to hug me. Their little arms wound around me where they could, and I could feel their tiny hands grasping at me. Squeezing them tighter, I laughed when they did, exclaiming they I was holding them too hard. Pulling away, I kissed them both on the cheeks, holding their hands to take them downstairs. However, my grin fell as I heard the door open, Fred’s voice ringing out. My body stiffened, heart starting to race quickly. Instinctively, I pulled the twins closer to me, not sure if I should go to Fred or wait here.
“It’s alright dear, I’m here.” Molly calmly said beside me.
All I could do was smile. My throat turned dry, breathing shaky and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I heard Arthur speaking to his son, but it was muffled, until footsteps started approaching. And suddenly, there he was, the boy I feel deeply in love with was now a man, standing even taller than before. Although we both looked different, it was as if we were teenagers again.
“(Y/N)...I...I can’t believe...” he couldn’t form a sentence, his gaze now on the twins.
I knelt between my children, hugging them close to me.“This is (Y/S/N), and (Y/D/N). They’re my world. And...your children too.”
The kids curled into me, noticing the tension in the room. They didn’t know this big man, and they could sense that I was on edge. I put on a brave face for them. I was their mother, their protector, I would always ensure that they felt comfortable, safe, happy and loved. 
“M-my children?” he was still looking at them.
“I think you two should talk before...well before a proper meeting, yeah?” Arthur gently suggested.
“Alright.” I agreed.“You two go upstairs and play, you can come down in a bit, OK?”
“Come on you two, let’s go see what toys I’ve got for you. You can show me yours.” Molly said happily, wanting to make the kids relaxed.
They hesitantly went, but I heard them starting to talk about what toys they had and wanted as they climbed the stairs, Molly feigning surprise and interest. 
“I’ll just be in the garden, should you need me.” Arthur said before leaving.
And then there we were. Just us two again. I hadn’t seen him in five years, not since that week of our argument. Multiple emotions rushed through me; I could be angry, upset, frustrated, desperate, loving, relieved...all were pushing their way to the front of my mind, wanting to have their chance to speak.
“Five years.” Fred mumbled.
“Five years.” I repeated.
“I...I can’t speak. I can’t, I can’t think right now. I had so much I wanted to say.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
“Their names...I remember us talking about them.”
“Yeah. I always liked them.”
“Are they...well, do they know...”
“They know you’re their father. I've always avoided this kind of topic as much as I could with them. They've obviously asked in the past, but I guess since they were so used to it just being me, it was normal for them."
"How have you been?"
"Pretty good, for what it's worth. I was able to get on my feet, with the help of family, I gave birth to them with no complications, all by myself until the last minute. Mum had burst into the room, her face bright red as she rushed to my side. It was scary. And from there I managed to get us a small house, just the necessary rooms, and I try and treat them as much as I can, if the budget will allow it."
"Why didn't you contact me sooner?"
"Why didn't you contact me?" I snapped back."You had the means to do so as well. You probably had more time than I had to even think about contacting me!"
He slightly raised his hands, trying to calm me down."OK, I'm sorry. That was a stupid question."
“No, I'm sorry." I sat down at the kitchen table, head in my hands."I'm just feeling a lot of mixed things right now."
I heard him shuffle around before the chair next to mine scraped along the floor, and he sat in it."I know. So am I."
"I came here because (Y/D/N) is sick. An option we have is a transfusion of blood but we have to find the right person. They said the most likely match would come from a family member. All of mine have tried, even distant relatives. That's why I came in the first place."
His face had fallen into a sad expression, eyebrows furrowed."Wait, what does that mean?"
"She won't die, nothing like that. Even with the right treatment, she would have to go to hospital throughout her life. (Y/D/N) will be a sickly person throughout her life."
“Of course I’ll help. I know we all will.”
I smiled through my tears.“Thank you Fred. That means everything to me.”
“But...” he looked down at the table, slowly sliding his hand towards mine. He boldly placed it on top of mine,“I want to look after you too.”
“Fred-”
“No, please listen. There has not been a day where I didn’t regret what I said to you the last time we saw each other. I...I thought about you everyday, but I was too selfish, I was too much of a coward to do anything about it. My love for you, it was...it is enormous. I think as a teen, I knew I was in love, I just didn’t realise how painful it would be when I lost you. And it was all my fault.”
“We’re both to blame. Throughout my pregnancy, I tried to hate you. I convinced myself I did, though deep, deep down in my heart, the love was still there. I told myself I could do this without you, and some days it really felt like that. Others, it would have been nice to have someone else around. And not just to help with the kids. To feel...like a normal family. To have someone look after me at the end of a long day.”
“I can’t believe no one else snatched you up.” he smiled.“You’ve become more beautiful over the years, I didn’t think that was possible.”
I blushed, rolling my eyes at his compliment.“Surprisingly, no one wants a woman with two kids, especially young kids.”
“Can’t say I’m too angry about that.”
“What are we doing Fred? It can’t go back to how it used to be. Not...not straight away.”
“You think you could forgive me?”
“And me?”
“You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I kept you from your children! I could have done this years ago. They...they could have had their father in their lives, we knew how to get to each other.” I used my free hand to cover my eyes as I began crying.
“Hey,” Fred’s other arm wrapped around my shoulders,“you’re here now with me. I will apologise everyday if it means you can look me in the eyes and feel happiness. You deserve that much. And as for (Y/S/N) and (Y/D/N), I would love to get to know them. We can see where it goes, and further down the line...well, we can take baby steps.”
I sniffled.“You really want to do that?”
He smiled and nodded.“I’m going to be here for you all from now on. They’re my kids, and you’re the mother of my children. I’m going to make up for lost time.”
He tenderly embraced me, and how I had missed this feeling with him. I reacted, holding onto him as I continued to silently cry. He rocked us back and forth, but I could tell he was crying when I felt something drip onto my neck. This didn’t mean all was forgiven, it would take a while to mend everything between us, and for the kids to get used to their father again (and vice versa). Although I knew this would be a journey, I had some faith in it, and I prayed and hoped that someone from the Weasley side could help with (Y/D/N).
We were going to work through this. From what Fred had said, he was desperately wanting to reconnect. Perhaps we could be a family, and the last five years would be nothing compared to the rest of our lives.
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Five Thousand Miles
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Warning: Angst, descriptions of covid patients’ suffering, hospitals
A/n: I researched a lot about what covid patients go through in a hospital and their treatments but still took a couple creative liberties so I apologise if the descriptions aren’t accurate. Do tell me how you liked it!
Summary: Y/n tests positive for covid-19 and has to be hospitalised. Her boyfriend, Harry is five thousand miles away from her.
“Harry, I’m scared,” Y/n confessed as she readied herself, struggling with wearing her mask and gloves while also balancing her phone to continue talking to her boyfriend on FaceTime.  
“It’ll be alright, you are taking every precaution you can. Plus, you have to get out of the house sometime, you can’t survive on air alone. Trust me, baby, you can do this.”
Harry’s voice was keeping her grounded, she wanted to continue talking to him but knew it would be impossible to shop and talk to him at the same time, so she nodded at him, “You’re right. Okay, I’ll call you when I get back. Safely.”
Taking a deep breath, she went out the door to a world of germs, people, and newly acquired viruses.
Being in the middle of a pandemic alone wasn’t her favourite situation to be in. It felt better when she had company, people who would help her buy the essentials. As soon as situations eased up a bit, her quarantine partners left New York to be with their families. She was all alone now.  
Looking at all the empty streets, Y/n was left with a weird sensation. The city that never slept had never been quieter. She was so used to being woken up by car horns and car alarms in the morning that during the first few weeks of lockdown, she found it hard to wake before noon. This quiet was almost poetic, like the stuff of post-apocalyptic films. Y/n wasn’t sure if the silence comforted her or terrified her.
There were more people in the store than she had expected, though all in their masks, she breathed in relief. She went straight to the personal hygiene section, remembering the most important item on her list, only to find that the store was all out of toilet papers, the one thing films didn’t guess would be a big problem. She rolled her eyes at the selfish people who had panic-bought more stuff than they would have needed.
She tried every store near her neighbourhood, and eventually was able to get the last set in the final shop she visited. Tired from driving all over the city in search of toilet papers, she went to the check-out line to finally buy her stuff. 
Standing in her place, Y/n noticed the people in the store, few whose foreheads were furrowed, their eyes darting around making sure they were maintaining the mandated distance from others, panic evident on their mask-covered faces. Some others appeared plain bored. Already used to the new routine and just wanting to get it over with. 
She was so lost her observations, she almost didn’t hear it, the woman behind her in the line coughed loudly, making people jump farther apart than the required six feet.
“It’s just allergies,” the woman announced in a nasal voice, rolling her eyes at people’s reaction. 
As Y/n’s turn came at the check-out counter, she found herself frozen to the ground, she didn’t know why but the cough threw her off. It felt weird to react the way she did, but she could not make herself move. She was nervous. She wanted to laugh at herself for feeling this way because of a measly cough, but it wasn’t so simple and right now all she felt was fear.
“Oh for god’s sake,” the woman moved forward, pushing her aside and placed her items at the counter. Even the employee there seemed wary, but knew he had to comply to keep his job.
It was only after the woman left, was Y/n finally able to move, she shook her head as if to shake the incident away from her mind and finally paid for her items.
She ran all the way home, even though she knew she shouldn’t have. She couldn’t help herself, she just wanted to move away from the public and into the safety of her home as soon as she could. 
As she entered her house, Y/n felt her chest tighten, as though someone was sitting on it, she couldn’t breathe properly. It felt like she was breathing through a squished straw. 
In between her wheezing, she searched around for her inhaler in her side bag. She felt her breath coming back a few seconds after she breathed in the medicine. She fell to her knees in exhaustion and took in a few more breaths to calm down.
She then picked herself up and embarked on an extensive set of tasks- Taking off her gloves and mask, removing her shoes at the entrance of her house, washing her hands. But, this somehow didn’t seem enough to her, so she went ahead and took another shower, just to be extra sure.
While in the shower, she cursed her asthma. It wasn’t usually a big hurdle in her life, but now, everything was a hundred times worse. This was the first time she had feared for her life. Her anxiety was at an all-time high and all she had to keep her sane was her daily FaceTime calls with Harry.
Opening her laptop to do her work, she checked the numbers again- seventy thousand new cases. She sighed and closed her laptop, not having the motivation to do any work. She scrolled through her social media to distract herself only to be shoved more news about the coronavirus, she let out a groan of frustration and switched off her phone, deciding to take a nap instead.
Only she couldn’t sleep. She thought back to all the plans she made with Harry, promising him to be there next to him while he toured the globe. She laughed at the situation and how no one in a million years could have guessed the current world state.
She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she must have as she woke up with a jolt in her bed after a strange dream. She shook her head and looked out her window to see the sky dark. She switched on her phone, it was 8 pm. She cursed to see three missed calls from Harry and one from her friend, Sarah.
Preparing herself, she called Harry. 
“Where were you, I called like three times?” His voice was deeper than usual, she guessed he had just woken up because of her call. She calculated it to be 4 am in London, where Harry was. She felt bad for waking him up like that.
“I know, I switched off my phone and fell asleep. Sorry,” she grimaced.
Harry hummed in acknowledgement, “how you doing?”
She could hear rustling on the other side and imagined a sleepy Harry sitting up in his bed, his hair messy from his sleep, “Just missing ya’.”
“I know, I hate that I had to leave you like that, wish you could come with me,” there was a hint of a whine in Harry’s voice which made Y/n smile.
“Wish I had a visa for England, I really wanted to come too,” and she meant that. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to be alone.
“I’ll video call you tomorrow, it’s late here, or rather early,” what he was saying next was obscured by his yawn. She sighed, she missed him too much.
“Yeah sure, see you tomorrow, bye.”
“Bye.”
When the call disconnected, she messaged Sarah to ask what the call was about, who didn’t respond. She shrugged her shoulders and went down to the kitchen to start preparing for dinner.
~
It started with a headache. She didn’t ponder much on it and instead only took medicine to curb the pain enough to continue working. 
It was when she felt a certain roughness in her throat, did she pay attention. Her cough worsened within days, she was having a hard time breathing normally. It felt like a less severe but constant asthma attack. She took her temperature, which showed her to be having a fever at 101°F. 
It took her some time to even process what was happening to her, she initially wondered if it could be the flu or something non-covid, but she knew she couldn’t take the chances. Harry was the first person she informed.
“What are you saying?!” Harry was frantic, his forehead creased as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing them up.
“I have a fever, a cough, and I’m having difficulty breathing,” counting the symptoms on her fingers, she informed him again.
“It could be the flu, Y/n you didn’t even go outside. How could it be anything else?”
“H, I did go out to buy supplies, didn’t I? Maybe I got infected there somehow. We shouldn’t be kidding ourselves. I have to at least get tested.” You didn’t want to show him just how scared you were, but it was hard to keep your voice from cracking.
“I am scared, H,” you let the tears out. Your shoulders shook while you tried to wipe your tears as they were leaking from your eyes.
Harry closed his eyes, not being able to see you sobbing, “I know baby, but I know you’ll be strong. I will take the next flight to LA. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He promised, his mouth set in a hard line as a strong look of determination crossed his face.
  She shook her head with as much strength she could muster, “No Harry, you shouldn’t keep travelling, plus, you can’t stay with me and I don’t want you staying at some hotel. It’s not safe.”
“Bu—”
“—I won’t hear another word about it. I have Sarah, and you have your work to take care of. I will be fine.”
She knew Harry wanted to say more, object to her claims, she would not be fine. But he knew it would be of no use, once she had made up her mind, it would be impossible to change it. So, he settled for a low nod.
“Keep me updated, I’ll also talk to Sarah. She better be there for it all. You should now call your doctor, see what’s the next step.”
Y/n nodded, smiling that Harry understood. She didn’t want to trouble him. She also wanted to pretend for a few more seconds that this was not a big deal.
She called Dr Gupta, her heart was beating at an all-time high and her energy was at an all-time low. She barely had enough breath to tell her doctor about her situation who booked an appointment for her to go to the nearest covid testing facility.
She took a deep breath, wore her protective gear and drove to the testing lab which was a ten-minute drive from her place. She was already out of breath by the time she reached the place.
When she was done with her test, she felt worse than she had before. Sarah called to check in on her, but Y/n didn’t have the energy to talk so Sarah video-called her, seeing Y/n’s face would have to be enough for her at that point.
Sarah’s eyes softened, seeing her best friend heaving, eyes shut and groaning due to her chest pain. But she knew, more than anything, her best friend was scared.
“I hope with everything that I am that the test comes back negative,” her voice was tinged with worry and genuine hope.
Y/n could only nod.
The call came two days later, Y/n sat up in her bed, she had been dreading this moment these past days, with Harry and Sarah to distract her.
The test came back positive.
She fell back into her bed, cushioned by her pillow and started shaking uncontrollably as she sobbed.
She felt insanely dehydrated by the time she stopped crying, she didn’t even get to call either of her friends. She stood up with a groan, and following one slow step after the other, she went to the bathroom to wash her now tear-stained face.
The call she made to Harry wasn’t an easy one. She knew he would take the news worse than she had, and her reaction was not a light one.
“I prayed. I promise I prayed Y/n,” his words were almost indecipherable in between his cries. His every tear followed the other with a ferocity never before noticed by Y/n.
Her own tears followed suite, she was so sure she had finished up all her tears, but she was proven wrong. Soon, the only conversation happening between the two was through their sobs.
She wanted to curse all the gods, she didn’t want to go through the pains of having this disease and she didn’t want to do it alone. Even though she had Harry and Sarah standing right beside her, knowing they would not be able to meet her in person, she had never felt more alone.
“I don’t feel good, H,” she confessed. Breathing was becoming difficult day by day, she would rather have an asthma attack twice a day than having this constant pressure on her chest and throat. She knew she had to tell him, “I have to get admitted to the hospital first thing in the morning tomorrow, they say my covid could be worsened because of my asthma,” she let out in between a series of coughs stopping her after every word.
Harry nodded, his heartbeat rising. He cursed himself for leaving his girlfriend alone in the country. If he hadn’t left, she would not be going through this, “I’ll tell Sarah, you go rest,” he promised, seeing it get increasingly difficult for her to even sit up in her bed.
If Y/n was scared before, then the hospital made it thousand times worse. It was a scary sight, the covid ward was in an isolated area of the hospital, the doctors and nurses were in full PPE kits, the patients were lined up next to each other separated by curtains. She passed a room with ICU written on the glass door. With what she could see, she noticed several other patients, some with masks covering their nose, probably providing oxygen. Others seemed in worse conditions, they were intubated via ventilators. 
Seeing them facing the same crisis together, although away from their families, but forming a new family of sorts in solidarity to their conditions gave her little comfort. Those who wore the nasal masks and thus still had the ability to talk were speaking to each other, even reading something from their phones to those who were on ventilators. Covid had seemed like a situation she would have to go through alone, her initial views though were changing.
She was admitted to the regular covid ward, with the rest of the non-critical patients and would be observed overnight. She was assisted with oxygen through a nasal mask, just like the people around her, she had noticed.
“Hey, I’m Cecilia, call me Cece,” a thirty-something woman introduced herself from beside you. The curtain was partially open, allowing Y/n to see only her face.
“Y/n, nice to meet you,” she called back, smiling as much her energy would allow.
“Never guessed this is how I would be spending my lockdown,” she laughed lightly, pointing to her mask. She then followed it up with a cough, groaning with the strain.
Y/n felt bad for her, only to be subjected to the same.
These were going to be some long days. Though she did feel better knowing she would not be facing this alone. She looked around the room, at probably twenty patients around her, in the same situation as her, if not in worse conditions. She then thought back to the people in the ICU and what they must be subjected to.
Her phone brought her attention to itself, it was Harry FaceTiming her; putting on a smile, she picked up the call. 
“Hey handsome,” she suggestively raised her eyebrows, not wanting to worry him any further.
Harry did not even notice her words, he was too busy gawking at her nasal mask, “what is that?” worry coating his voice.
“Oh just my new accessory, you like it?” although Y/n wanted to look nonchalant, the pain in her voice could not be hidden, she sighed, “They are giving me oxygen through this.”
Harry’s eyebrows were knitted together in worry, Y/n wanted to make him feel better. She could not rest knowing her love was out there worrying about her, “Look I made a friend,” she turned the camera to Cece laying next to her six feet apart, “Cece, say hi to my boyfriend, Harry.”
She had forgotten her boyfriend was a big deal but was reminded of it by Cece’s gasp, “Harry freaking Styles ohmigod ohmigod,” Cece squealed, making Y/n forget for a second that she was not a teenager.
“Hullo love,” Harry greeted her in his ‘fan voice’, a smile graced her lips. “Hope you beat covid and get better soon.” Cece’s smile made Y/n realise how long these people had gone without having a reason to smile and how desperately they needed it. 
 Cece’s squeal garnered the attention of the people around them. Noticing the pop icon on the phone screen, conversations started flowing between everybody. Introductions were made, friendships were formed and smiles were passed around, along with Y/n’s phone. So, she asked a nearby nurse if they could access a bigger screen so everyone could see and talk to her boyfriend.
When the staff hooked up a screen, Harry gave all the patients an impromptu concert. Y/n had not smiled in days the way this concert had made her. She expected fear, anxiety, deaths and instead got friends, laughter, and music.
When Harry was done performing for his audience, he gave her a brief look. “I love you,” she whispered to him, smiling when he returned the words.
The next day, she was woken up by the noises around her, she panicked for a moment, not recognising the place she was in; but calmed when she regained her senses and noticed the blue curtains of the hospital, several machines and the people they were attached to. 
She made a short conversation with Cece but had to stop because she was getting out of breath. With every passing moment, her chest pain too was increasing. She did keep listening to people chat around her. Some were on calls with their family, others were busy reading books and listening to music. She kept getting shouts of gratitude from the people in the ward for Harry the previous night.
For the next two days, that kept her going. She learned about her fellow patients, Jonathan was 59 years old, his son was an engineer and he couldn’t have been more proud; Jaya was a 42-year-old woman with bronchitis and wanted to visit Paris at least once in her life. Marc was a 50-year-old diabetic who was in a band in the 80s, they were planning a reunion show. She met countless people, each with their own stories. 
At about 10 am on a Thursday, her situation worsened. The doctors had come for a routine checkup, only to see that her oxygen levels were dropping steadily and she needed immediate assistance.
She was shifted to the ICU ward. She had to be intubated and thus was given a board and marker to write anything if she wanted.
“—Yes sir, she was shifted to the ICU this morning—”
“—We can’t say much right now, but we’ll inform you if anything changes—”
“—Okay, take care, Sir.”
Y/n heard bits and pieces of the conversation her doctor was having with Harry, although since she was on medication, she couldn’t register much of it. The nurses brought her phone to her, a silhouette moving on the screen.
“Hey baby, how are you feeling?”
Y/n pondered how to describe the immense pain burning through her respiratory passage and the lack of oxygen eating away her lungs and not give him nightmares. So, she offered him a tired thumbs up.
Harry watched his girlfriend cough, her face contorting in pain and could not control his tears, he didn’t want to think about the worst-case scenario but could not stop his mind from going there. He knew how low the chances were of people on ventilators coming back. But he had to remain positive, someone had to. She needed him to be strong for her. So, he wiped away his tears, put on his best brave face and talked to her.
He called her every three hours. Giving updates to her about his day, talking to her about whatever he could. He talked enough to compensate for the silence on her part. She smiled through every sentence, even though he could not see it, even though it wasn’t visible on her face, even though she didn’t have the power to, she smiled.
And she listened. So she didn’t have to focus on Josephine dying next to her or Augusta who was a hair length’s distance away from dying the previous day. Even though doctors told her that her situation was worsening, she listened because that became the only thing keeping her from giving up.
As her pains didn’t go away, and her condition worsened further, she was given sedatives and was thus mostly asleep. Which she was thankful for, for she couldn’t take it anymore, she just wanted to rest.
Dr Garcia came by routinely to check on her, talking to her about the outside world, gave her the gossips being passed around the hospital. Even though she was barely awake to listen to any of it, she was thankful for the kind doctor providing a calm lull while doing her job.
“Mr Styles, I’m afraid her condition isn’t getting any better. She should have shown atleast some improvements,” Dr Garcia informed Harry in a heavy voice.
On the other side of the line, Harry didn’t know what to do, it felt like someone was pulling away the floor under him. “What happens now?” He asked, praying for some hopeful news.
“We really can’t say much, each case is different, but it would be better uhm,” the doctor was thinking through her words, wanting to be as considerate as possible, “is there any family of hers that would want to talk to her?”
Harry almost let out a sob as he realised what the doctor was implying ‘is there anyone who would want to give her a final goodbye?’
“No, Y/n’s family passed away in an accident when she was 16, it’s just me and Sarah,” he explained, his voice on the verge of cracking, it was becoming harder to get words out of his mouth. He didn’t want to talk anymore, he just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.
“Oh, I understand,” Dr Garcia nodded, feeling sorry for the young girl who had stolen the hearts of everyone in the ward. She was a sweet girl, who had dreams and still held love for life even after everything she had seen. “This is not the end, Harry, she can still recover, God, I pray she does, this is not the end.” She really believed the words she was saying and wanted Harry to feel the same.
He nodded, tears clouding his eyes. He too really wanted to believe that.
A beat of silence fell upon the conversation, both in deep thought, “Harry, she wrote something on her board when she was awake yesterday,” Harry’s ears pricked up, “she wrote and I quote ‘I will not give up’ with a smiley face at the end. She is a fighter, you remember that,” Dr Garcia gave her parting ways and went back to her work.
Y/n’s words were imprinted in Harry’s mind. After the call, he made himself more presentable, wiping his tears and drove up to the church near Y/n’s house. He had come back to LA after Y/n was admitted to the ICU. He couldn’t be five thousand miles away from her in that condition.
The church was almost empty, which was surprising to Harry, given the situation, but he wasn’t complaining. He walked up the aisle, his hand grazing each wooden bench as he reached the altar and kneeled. He didn’t what to pray or how to pray, but he tried anyway. He closed his eyes and called out to God; he prayed with every part in his body, with every bone, every muscle, every fibre of being for his love to get better. For her to keep fighting. And for him to gain enough strength to deal with it all.
All this time, he had been feeling so helpless, not being able to do anything to make her better. But he made peace with the fact that the only thing he could do right now was to have faith. To have faith in God to guide him and her, in Y/n to be the stubborn strong-willed woman that she was and continue fighting, he had faith in his faith and that it would not disappoint.
He stayed there, talking to God until the closing hours. He then went back to Y/n’s place and sat on the sofa, waiting by his mobile, ready for any phone call he might receive.
He was awoken the next day by his phone ringing on the coffee table next to him. He looked at the time, it was noon, he picked up.
“Congratulations Harry, she’s getting better,” the relief was evident in Dr Garcia’s voice.
Harry felt himself getting physically lighter.
“I mean there is still a long way to go, but her oxygen levels are rising, her lungs are recovering, she’ll be soon able to breathe on her own. Harry, she did it, she won,” Harry didn’t listen to the rest of what the doctor was saying, he was too busy falling in love with the love of his life. It felt like he himself had come back from the dead. He knew his faith could never disappoint.
“Thank you doctor, I’ll be waiting for the call when you tell me she’s tested negative,” he laughed, his lungs breathing in air after what felt like a lifetime.
Dr Garcia chuckled along with him and agreed, telling him Y/n would call him when she woke up.
~
“You know I love you right? My fighter,” Harry tightened his grip on her hand and kissed her knuckles.
Y/n’s head fell back as laughter bubbled out of her, “You just told me that like two minutes ago.”
“I know, but a few weeks ago I thought I would never get to say it to you ever again. So, I will keep reminding you every minute that I love you and that you are the strongest person I know,” he snaked his arms around her, placing his head on top of hers, “I really missed holding you.”
She breathed in Harry’s scent, slowly regaining her sense of smell, she had missed this too. She cupped his cheek with her right hand and gave him a light peck.
Harry grabbed the back of her head, keeping her lips on his, deepening the kiss. When they separated, he rested his forehead against hers, not wanting her to move even an inch away from him.
Noticing her deep breaths, he whispered in her ears, “This is the only reason I want you to be out of breath. This and well... the other one,” he smirked.
“Oh hush you,” Y/n blushed, she sucked in a breath through her teeth, “Shit man, I love you.”
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sakurayumeno · 3 years
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Sorry for the wait!
If you don’t like yandere or if it makes you uncomfortable, don’t read.
Yandere Naib Skin Hcs
tw: yandere
Cheshire Cat:
He loves to see how helpless you are in wonderland. Just seeing the despair in your eyes gives him a rush
If you ever ask him for help on getting out, he’ll always respond in the most riddling ways, way more than he’d usually do. He may also be in a more sour mood than before once you ask, though
‘How dare my little Alice think they could just leave? Did they not think about how I felt?’
Without a doubt, would stalk you
Would you know, though? Of course not, because he’ll hide away the moment you turn to look
Soon enough, there will be a point where he deems you “mad” and says there’s but one cure for this type of illness, and he’s the only one who is fit to rid you of it
That’s when you’re taken away to his home, where you’ll live out your days with him
He tries his best to be as loving and affectionate with you as possible. He’ll stuff you with your favorite sweets, making sure they are the finest you’ve ever had because his little mouse deserves the best
But there are times where he wants to be a bit selfish and be rewarded for what he does for you. He’ll go up to you and pretty much demand for you to treat him with the same amount of love he gives you. His demands may range from head pats, ear scratches, kisses, or even just cuddles
If you were to be stubborn and deny his requests, he would just force himself on you. Grabbing your hand harshly, bringing it to his head and move it in the way he so desires. Or he’d just drape his body over you, making it impossible for you to escape his warm embrace
It really does rile him up a little when you do defy him, though. But he knows to keep his head cool as to not scare you in any way
That being said, he really tries to stay calm when you escape him, but then again, he knows he’ll always find you in the end. And why would he pass up an opportunity to see the hope gleam in your eyes, thinking you finally got away, only for him to reappear in front of you with that signature sharp-toothed grin
When he brings you back to your shared abode, he will take you to your bedroom and lock you there without food or water for however he seems fit. And for some reason, every time you’re locked there, you feel as if you’re being watched
“Don’t worry, it’s for your own good.”
In his mind, all he needs to do is discipline you enough and you’ll become his perfect lover
He doesn’t really need to kill anyone for you, it’s not like the people there going to try to help you anyway. Just his presence is enough for them to cower in fear, so imagine how they’d be if he were to get mad at them
One of the worst yanderes to have. You’re absolutely hopeless in Wonderland, you might as well give in to him as to save your sanity
Spring Hand:
Would actually try to initiate a relationship with you
This newsboy would be on his best behavior around you
Sometimes he would give you little gifts whenever he delivers your mail to you. Somedays they may be your favorite flowers, chocolates or an item you’ve lost. Oh? It looks almost exactly like the one you had? It must be a coincidence, because he totally didn’t steal it from you. Why would he?
He loves to talk to you everyday, you’re like a drug to him. Admiring your skin tone, the way your eyes sparkle in the sun, and oh god, your lips? Sometimes he has to contain himself from just taking you away right then and there
He reads your mail to learn every bit about you. Your schedules, your friends, family, and even jobs. He’ll feel more in check that way
He tries to convince you to meet up after his work shifts to spend more time with you. I mean, how could you resist when you could see how bright his eyes shine and how big his smile gets whenever he’s with you?
When confessing to you, he wants it to be very romantic. He’d make a fancy dinner for you both at his house and invite you, telling you that he has a surprise for you and to wear something formal
If you reciprocate his feelings, he’ll be overjoyed to know that you’re finally his after all this time
He won’t dare show how crazy he was for you, he wants to make everything perfect for the two of you
You two would live a domestic life, one where he could live all his desired fantasies with you. He could finally hold you the way he wants without seeming weird or creepy. He could kiss those inviting lips of yours and tell you how much he loves you
Saves up to buy a ring for you when you guys think about marriage. He’d want something simple for the two of you, not something super flashy or over the top
He would be so happy if you would want to have kids with him, it’s like a dream come true. He doesn’t care if your body is able to have kids or not, you both could always adopt. But if you aren’t fond of the idea of children, he understands completely. He may be a bit sad when you tell him, but he’ll get over it soon
If you don’t, however, his ‘good boy’ persona will instantly vanish, showing his true colors
“Do you know how long I’ve been trying to make you like me? How much work I’ve put into trying to make us be together?”
At that point, he doesn’t care about what you want and he’ll take you with him by force if needed
Either way, he gets what he wants in the end
He won’t be as sweet as he would be if you had accepted his confession, but would still be devoted to you. He just has to keep his guard up since you know his secret
Some freedoms you would lose are your privacy, ability to communicate with others, and being able to go outside. He doesn’t think you need any of these things when you’re with him. You should be lucky that’s all he takes
Break any of these and be so disappointed in you. He wouldn’t hit your or anything, but just seeing the gutted look in his eyes every time you misbehave makes you want him to get mad at you 
The same goes for when you escape, the only punishment you get is his dreadful disappointment 
Contradicting Cheshire Cat, Spring Hand is one of the best yanderes you’ll ever get. He won’t kill anyone like the others, makes an actual effort in becoming your partner, and would be the best lover if your love is mutual
Clarity:
Soft yandere
He has lost so many things that he just has to keep you to himself, there’s no other person who would love you the way he does
You may be alarmed to find out how much he knows about you, but he’ll immediately calm you down
It’s his job to know everything there is about you, he needs to make sure you’re not a threat to the kingdom. At least, that’s what he says
He’s very sensitive and a bit of a crybaby in private, but he’ll definitely use this to his advantage with you. He doesn’t have a problem with crying in front of you, saying that he can’t live without you and begging you not to leave him if it gets you to stay
Loves to guilt trip you. Seeing you go from confidently arguing with him to timid and remorseful in just seconds gives him so much pride
There will be a day where he’ll abduct you from where you live. He doesn’t have the time to try to actually get a relationship with you, he has too much work and worries that if he waits any longer, you’ll already be taken
The only thing that he would do that's non-con, besides kidnaping you, would be stealing your first kiss. He would feel a bit dejected if he found out you had already had it, though
He’s a royal guard, he’s had situations where his king orders him to hunt down people. So if you try to run away from him, he’ll easily find you, no matter how good of a hider you are
If you ever say that you hate him for taking you away from your home or you say you don’t love him, he will become an aggressive, sobbing mess. He did this all for you, why couldn’t you understand that?
“W-what the hell did you say to me?!”
Tries to be reasonable, but sometimes he just gets so blinded by his own anger that he may hurt you in the process. You may end up with a few bruises on your arms from how tight his grip on you was
And he feels so bad after, he would never wish harm upon his love, yet he was the cause of it
He’ll take care of your injuries the best of his abilities, using ice packs or heating pads depending on how long it was since you got it. He also gives you so many hugs and kisses when he does this, apologizing for hurting you and telling you how much you mean to him
Killing others is a part of his job as a guard, so he could easily cover himself up if he ever kills someone for you. He could simply just take someone’s life because they were talking to you and say his reason was because the person was on the elimination list
When he comes home from his patrols or the job he was ordered to do, he’ll be exhausted and just wants to be in your company. If you allow it, he would very much like for you to massage his body, loosening all of his tense muscles and relieving him of the pain he felt before. He will be in absolute bliss during this, he may even let out a moan or two
If he had to be ranked on the yandere scale from best to worst, he would probably fall by the middle, though a bit closer to the best side. He could definitely be much worse if he wanted to, but also be a bit more careful with you
“Nobody will ever take you away from me, darling. I’ll keep you safe with me until the very end.”- N.S
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theunlabeledbitch · 3 years
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What It Is (Gottmik x Vanjie)
i know i'm not the only one looking directly at this chaotic duo so here's a short cc for those on the same boat (or ship) as me!
Read after the jump!
The lights went out and one by one, the queens stumbled back into their trailers, getting out of their drag. And while some of them went back out after de-dragging and huddled together in the open space in the middle of the trailers, drinking the rest of the night away, Mik and Vanjie stayed inside the trailer, making themselves comfortable on the couch as they scanned through the list of movies they could watch on Mik's laptop.
This has become some sort of a ritual for the both of them while they were on tour; recharging their spent energies by cuddling their way through a movie. For the past weeks, their dynamic has left the other queens wondering about what they were and where they were. But as curious as all of them were, no one really wanted to pry---except Asia who has let Mik and Vanjie and everyone who views his instagram stories that he was onto them.
"How about this one?" Mik pointed.
"I am Legend? What's that?" Vanjie asked with his signature bewildered look, the one Mik had grown very endeared to.
"It's an apocalypse thing," Mik explained. "With zombies and stuff. Will Smith's the actor."
"Bitch, you had me at apocalypse," Vanjie responded in a way that only he could, earning a laugh from Mik.
"You like end of the world movies?" the latter asked, amused at the new piece of information he gathered from the other. Vanjie nodded, bringing his knees up to his chest while Mik clicked on the movie.
"I mean, the world is going to end at some point, right? I hope I'm not alive to see that but if I am---" Vanjie stopped mid-sentence to raise a finger up in the air, making Mik chuckle. "I gotta know what's up. I gotta get me some survival tips from these hoes."
Mik cackled at the latter's delivery, as he pushed himself backwards on the couch, putting one arm on the backrest, draping his hand beside Vanjie's shoulder. "Well, you're gonna get a lot of tips from this one," he said, pressing play with his other arm before putting it in front of Vanjie to envelope the other in a hug. He rested his chin on the other's shoulder just as the opening credits rolled in.
It was something he liked about hanging out with Vanjie. Despite the loud and energetic personality the other had, there was some sort of peace and comfort that he could only find in moments like these---no, not in silence because Vanjie would always have side comments about every single thing that happened on the screen like 'Oooh, bitch!' or 'Get your ass outta the-OH MY GOD!' or 'Them zombies gone bite your slow ass, bit-I can't. I'm done'.
Moments like these---when they were lost in a world of their own. When the other's hand would find its way to his growing hair, running his hand all over the stubbled surface of his head. When his own hand would run up and down the other's arm. When the other would look over his shoulder and meet his gaze for no apparent reason.
There was some sort of peace and comfort in those moments.
Mik's eyes grew heavier and heavier until he had fallen asleep with his head resting on Vanjie's shoulder. He was almost at the pits of deep slumber when a sudden shout rang in his ears, jolting him awake. He lifted his head up to find Vanjie staring at the screen in shock, tears streaming down his face.
"Vanjie, what…" the rest of his words were cut off by a loud sob that came from the other who slowly turned to him, crying like a child deprived of his favorite candy.
""You didn't warn me a dog was gonna die you---WHY?!" Vanjie howled, flailing his arms around as he bawled. "He killed his dog to---WHY?! THE DOG! MIK YOU---"
Mik raised both his hands, catching Vanjie's wrists to avoid the incoming slap to his arm. He tried his best not to laugh as Vanjie looked really upset with what happened but the snot running down the other's nose made it impossible for him to hold back his laughter. He cackled, sending Vanjie into an even bigger fit.
"Hey! No!" Mik defended, trying to catch the hands that escaped his grip. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to not warn you." Vanjie let his hands fall weak, unable to stay mad when the other was looking at him with the softest gaze ever. "I'm sorry, okay?" Mik asked, squeezing the other's wrists gently. Vanjie huffed, sniffling as he nodded.
Mik couldn't help but smile fondly at the other. He let go of Vanjie's hands to pull his hands back into the long sleeves of his sweater, wiping the other's face with the soft fabric. Vanjie continued to sulk as Mik did his best to comfort him, turning the laptop off completely. Mik glanced over to Vanjie after he flipped the screen of his laptop down, stifling a laugh and earning a glare from the other.
"Come here, you," Mik laughed, cupping Vanjie's cheeks to place a gentle kiss on the other's lips. Vanjie easily melted into it, hands finding their way around Mik's waist to deepen the kiss. It didn't take long for a simple comforting kiss to turn into a heavier make-out session with Mik naturally slinging one leg over Vanjie's thighs to straddle him as they continued exploring each other's mouths with their tongues.
A click, too quiet to be heard by the pair engrossed in their moment, sounded from the door right in front of the couch where they were situated.
"Well," Asia began, turning around to face the other queens who also took a peek when they heard Vanjie shouting. "I guess that answers all the questions we had for them." Sounds of items clattering on the floor sounded from behind the door, widening the eyes of the queens who were still standing in front. "Okay, that's it," Asia clapped, walking away from the bunch. "I refuse to be tainted by this, good night!" The other queens laughed, dispersing as well, to let the pair inside have their moment. They were all going to have fun teasing them about it the next day at breakfast.
That is if the two queens could even get up early enough to make it to breakfast.
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spookyswhore · 4 years
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What You Gonna Do When They Come for You? (Oscar Diaz x Reader)
Summary: Creating a new life from Freeridge may have been more of a nightmare than a blessing. After a life altering decision, what you gonna do when they come for you?
Word count: 2.7k
Author’s Note: this is a request from @tinnadh7 , hope you like. Sorry I’ve been away for so long between graduating and going to college everything has been stressing me out lol
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Freeridge still looked the same as it did before you left. Shit, it even smelled the same too. Cigarettes, alchohol, and 15 years later, you were now back in town after your move to New York. Right after your high school graduation, you moved out of state to New York to pursue your dreams of becoming a detective. Watching crime shows like The First 48 and Cops (and singing very passionately to the theme song) only put that final nail in the coffin and cemented your decision to become a part of the police force. Now here you were sitting on your older sister’s couch, a glass of wine sat chilled in your hand and you were clad in a sweater and some sweats with your hair in a ponytail. She lived in Brentwood, maintaning the life you were struggling to build, on your end. Her huge house, quiet neighborhood, and peace were all some things you wanted to acquire at some point in your life. That point is just not now.
"What are you doing here?" Your sister asked. By the tone of her voice, you could tell she wasn't exactly the happiest to see you. After you left, you lost contact with everything and everyone that was involved with Freeridge, which didn’t really sit right with her. After all, family was everything.
“I need somewhere to stay…” You said. You silently hoped that she would let go the grudge she held against you for the last 15 years and not be petty enough to not accpet her sister into her home. You both were raised on ‘Family First’ and you had no idea whether she was going to go against all that you were raised on.
“I’m not going to stay here forever. I just- I just need somehwere to lay low for a few days. I’ll find an apartment. I did something bad and not I’m in some shit that I can’t really explain right now..” You said as your pleas began to fade. You so badly wnated to fill your sister in all of the stuff that happened in the time that you were gone but right now you had no idea what to do and you didn’t want to put her or her newborn in jeopardy.
“Aren’t you some cop or something. Do that stuff that you guys do and you’ll be fine.” She said, completely dismissing you.
“It’s not that simple. I know you don’t really like me right now but just, please, can I stay here? I won't be in your way. I just need a little bit of time to figure this shit out.” You teared up as your voice broke. You hated the unknown and you were really scared of the shit you were caught up in and you didn’t know if you were going to make it out alive.
Your sister took a deep breath. You could see her internal dialogue spread across her face as she tried to decipher whether she’ll let you in or not. After a hot second, she shook her head of her thoughts and looked at your distraught state.
“Yeah. Sure. But I swear if you bring this shit to my home-.” You cut her off.
“I’m not. Thank you.” You got up and hugged her. “Now..” you smirked at her. “Can I meet my nephew?”
She laughed at your question. “Yes you can.” You followered into his room and never seen or experienced anything so heartwarming. The way his little beady eyes gleamed at you and the way his tiny little hand wrapped around your finger just melted your heart completely. She then showed the extra room she had, where you’ll be staying you thanked her again, bringing her into a teary eyed hug.
~
You woke up at noon with a sweat. The events that led you to your current state plagued your mind and your dreams as you slept and only left you a wet mess, breathing heavily in anxiety. You threw the covers off of your sticky body and trekked youself towards the bathroom and noticed your sister set you up with a fresh set of clothes throughout the night. Silently thanking her, you made a mental note to get a job and save up enough money to get you a whole new wardrobe, seeing as you literally had to get up and go and you were going to be in Freeridge for a while. Once you finished showering, you threw on the fresh set of clothes. In the middle of doing your hair, your stomach made the iconic sound that everybody loves and knows to be a whale call, indicating that you have eaten in the last 36 hours. Between spending money for transportion and paying for food at any diner that was closest to you, you were flat out broke. You began to walk down the spiral staircase, taking note of the white marble and planning to put it in your “future house items’ list. Only hearing the sound of your footsteps as you drew closer to the fridge, it was only right that you assumed you were the only person awake right now, not knowing that your sister’s husband had to get up this early too. Only difference was… he had a job. Rummaging through the fridge with a piece of toast after what seemed like two minutes, at least to you, you were startled by a deep voice.
“Excuse me? Who are you?” He said. You moved your eyes quckly side to side, trying to conjure up a response good enough to not make you look stupid.
“Uh, who are you?” You said, straightening up from being bent over in half, with a gallon of orange juice in your hand.
“I...” he said as he took a few steps closer, “...am Melissa’s husband. Now again who-”. He got cut off by the deadpan tone of your sister’s voice.
“Sean, who are you trying to intimidate now- oh.” Your sister’s words get cut off as her eyes land upon the situation she was absolutely dreading between her sister and her husband. She thought she would be able to put it off and hide her sister long enough to come up with a reasonable explanation to explain to her husband as to why there’s an extra person in this house.
“Yeah. Oh. Who is this?”
“This is my sister.” She said, taking long strides to stand next to you.
“Sister? You never told me you had a sister.” You stood there very awkwardly looking between your sister and her husband. Melissa started fiddling with her fingers and you saw the gears start rotating in her brain. So, calling onto your sisterly duties, you decided to relieve your sister of the stress and explain the long story yourself. After a lengthy 5 minutes, a dark grey cloud of silence loomed over everyone. For a second, you saw a look of pure rage engross her husband’s face but maybe it was your paranoia. Your sister and her husband looked at you, eyes wide in disbelief but you didn’t stay long as you turned and and made your way out of the door. You needed some fresh air anyways. Your legs took you farther and farther away from the house as you made your way towards somewhere that wasn’t the cringey feeling that encapsulated your sister’s home.
Great apprehension crept up in your body as you grew closer and closer to a home you’d never thought you’d see again. The memories you made with the Diaz residence when you were younger flooded your mind. The sexual thoughts you held sacred in your mind about Oscar had gotten interrupted by Oscar’s tall frame standing in front of you. During the time that you were friends, you developed a bit of a crush that only you knew of. It was imperative that you, in the name of the wellbeing of your family, would never get romantically involved with Oscar. With him being this infamous gang leader, it would just end very badly for every loved one in your life. As much as you saw through his machismo exterior and saw him as the loyal, caring, protective man, all of that had to be thrown out of the window as you stood in the present.
“What are you doing back over here?” He nodded. Not being the shy, little high schooler you once were, you sized him up, matching his intimidation. But don’t get yourself wrong, the rapid beating of your heart and the throbbing in your core was almost enough to have you start seeing wedding bells.
“You know, I REALLY don’t think that is any of your business. Bold of you to question me, isn’t it? Got a problem?” Your cop instincts kicked in as you and Oscar stood with your eyes locked with each other. His eyes faltered for a bit in defeat then darkened with what you assumed to be lust. It was then that he didn’t respond but let off but a smirk, small enough for you to see, as he walked away. Shaking your head of your thoughts, you noticed Cesar and the rest of the Santos burning holes in the side of your head. Offering a quick smile and a wave to Cesar, your face dropped as you mindlessly wandered, again, around the streets of Freeridge.
~
Day turned into night as you made your way back “home”. As you opened the door, the scene that laid out in front of you. There were broken items everywhere. The table, the vase that sat on top of the island in the kitchen, basically anything that can be within arms reach. Then, your eyes jolted to your sobbing sister on the floor, surrounded with the shambles of the house that once was.
“Melissa. What the hell?”
Her head shot up in shock and the mascara-laced tears that so deplorably ran down her face left you in utter shock. You immediately ran to kneel beside her and took the bottle from her hands. You proceeded to ask her what happened during the time that you got some air. As she told you what transpired, everything in the room started to turn red. Anger quickly simmered inside you like some meat in a pressure cooker as the maroon-colored richness that only resembled blood made it’s way into your pupils. Never in a million years would you have believed that life would put you in a situation where your sister is in some deep shit and you would be there by her side. But this was the card that you were dealt. You didn’t have much info on what was going on but you definitely knew you and your sister had to get out ASAP. Something told you that something, or someone rather, is bad. Thoughts on the many ways you were going to kill your sister's husband flooded your mind as you helped your sister up. You told her to wait outside for you while you went to go get her baby to make sure he was safe.
"Yes, baby, it's okay. Shh." You cooed. Your nephew was starting to awake from his sleep and you knew it was a matter of time before he would begin to cry. You grabbed as much stuff as you could--the essentials--and made your way to join your sister outside. The cool night air hit y’all as you came to a dreadful realization.
"Shit."
"What?" Your sister asked.
“We have nowhere to go.” You replied, swaddling the baby on your chest. You racked your brain trying to figure out who the hell in Freeridge was going to accept two random adults and a baby at this time of night. You couldn’t exactly go to certain parts of town because of the Prophets and 19th street. They would chew you up and spit you guys out, just loving the fact that you guys are in a vulnerable position. Your options were limited but they all pointed to the safest one. Oscar.
“Fuck.” You groaned.
“What?”
“We gotta go to Oscar’s.”
“Oscar. No. We are absolutely not going to that bastard’s house.” You sister said as she crossed her arms in retaliation.
“Well do you have a better idea. Because quite frankly, we don’t have anywhere to go and Oscar is our safest option right now. We also have to get a move on before Mr. Incredible Hulk comes back.”
“Fine. Alright. Let’s go.” Your sister huffed. When you arrived at Oscar's place, you knocked on the door until you couldn’t anymore.
“Yo are you crazy?” Oscar said as he threw open the door in frustration. But I mean, could you blame him? You and your sister showed up at an ungodly hour with a fussy baby in your arms and let’s not even get started with the way he was dressed which honestly made you feel some type of way. The way his tank top sat on his body and the shorts sat oh so perfectly on his hips sent a blissful sensation to parts down below.
“We need somewhere to stay for the night.” Your sister spoke.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Oscar can you not be a dick for 2 seconds and let us in.” Melissa said, obviously irritated.
“Melissa,” you started. “Oscar can we just spend the night, please. There’s a lot that has to be explained but there’s nowhere else in town for us to stay. Please.” You were pleading with Oscar at this point.
“What’s in it for me?” He smirked at the suggestive tone of his voice.
“Oscar, now is not the time. Are you going to let us in or not?” The longer you stood there, you yourself also began to grow frustrated.
It took him a minute to make a decision as he went silent. He looked around to make sure nobody was watching or lurking in the shadows and mumbled a silent “come in.”
You set foot in the house and all of the air left your lungs. Memories of you and Oscar began to drown your thoughts, again. The laughs. The movie sessions. The food. The study sessions that led to him giving up because he was lazy. Everything. You put your nephew down in Cesar’s room to go back to sleep and made sure your sister was okay before making your way back out into the living room. Oscar sat there with a mug, casually sipping whatever liquid was in it. You let out a large breath of relief as you finally got to sit down and relax after the day you’ve had.
“Long day?” His deep voice grumbled.
“Major understatement.”
Soon after, you felt a presence beside you and a dip in the sofa letting you know that Oscar is now sitting on the couch with you. With the interaction you encountered today with your sister’s husband, a little inkling told you something was up. Although you had just met him, you would have never began to think that he would manhandle your sister like she’s same ragdoll and honestly, the reality that it became had the anger inside you boil over. On the other hand, reality also hit that you didn’t have your job or your badge had been confiscated so there’s really nothing much you two can do but run and never look back. In deep thought about your next steps, you feel a hand on your shoulders and it starts to rub the day’s tension away.
“You’re tense.” His deep voice boomed.
“Yeah, well can you blame me?”
“What’s wrong?”
The room becomes quiet as you try and decide whether you want to tell Oscar everything that has happened in the past 15 years.
“Everything I know is gone…” You whispered.
“What?” Oscar replies.
“I thought escaping from Freeridge and trying to create a whole new life was gonna fucking help but it’s obviously not.” You said, beginning to tear up.
“What are you talking about?”
“Goddamnit, Oscar there’s people coming, “you said with a warning tone. “I fucked up. I did some shit that I can’t take back and now-“
“Hey hey shh.” Oscar soothed. He took you in his arms and tried to calm you down as you cried your eyes out. The weight of trying to protect your sister, her child, yourself and everyone around over a senseless decision you made on the other side of the country, was coming down on to you entirely, bearing no mercy. Now the question is, what are you going to do from now on to ensure the safety of you and the people around you?
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anakinthetrashking · 4 years
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BnHA One-Shot Fic Recs (pt1)
Making some fic-rec posts has been on my to-do list for a while and I’m finally doing it, yay! Currently I have 6 word doc pages full of just BnHA recs. So I’m splitting them up by length and completion, so first up is (part one of) one-shots! Let’s go!!!
Lets start with some classic Izuku and DadMight!
Pictures, Posters and Tender Beauty by ProPinkist (tumblr: @dazais-guardian-angel ) Rating: G    Category: Gen   ~4,400 words Summary: Izuku has virtually every All Might-themed item out there, and prides himself on all of it, as Toshinori is well aware. However, somehow, the boy still decided that there was something vital missing. This is fluffy and very cute. No one truly appreciates All Might as much as Izuku does, but 1A comes close. All Might deserves all the love, and this fic truly provides!!!
Dear Mr. All Might by QuizzicalCrow (tumblr: @quizzicalcrow​ ) Rating: G   Category: Gen   ~5,000 words Summary: As the #1 hero for decades, All Might has collected a lot of fan mail over the years. Toshinori tracks down a series of letters that only now, years later, does he appreciate for their significance.  I always love the thought of All Might looking through his fan mail, even if he can’t get to all of it. This was a wonderful glimpse into that AND it was made to be so, so personal and sweet. Go have some heart-healing fluff.
Growing Pains by LordofLies (tumblr: @theangelofchildren ) Rating: G   Category: Gen    ~5,900 words Summary: Izuku finds himself changed by his encounter with the Hero Killer, but changes of a more physical kind are in store for him as he begins to truly accept One for All as his own. Once, he would have been thrilled to look more like All Might, but now those connections are as much a source of anxiety as they are of pride.Or, Izuku wakes up one morning and sees the world through different eyes. Izuku having anxiety and Toshi being there to help him through it and calm him down? Sign me UP. Its also a pretty cool take on how One for All is able to change things about it’s holder. Could this happen in cannon? Who knows.... Regardless, it was a great read!
I’ll Carry You Home by Renesvetta Rating: G   Category: Gen   ~2,700 words Summary: While training with All Might, it wasn’t uncommon for Izuku to be so exhausted at the end of the day that he unwittingly fell asleep without regard for where he was. It consequently became part of All Might’s routine to help his young protégé home. During that time, Izuku may have let loose more than one sleepy confession towards his mentor.  Yes, it is as adorable as it sounds. Its tagged with “self indulgent Dad Might fluff” which is both accurate and appreciated. In other words: Superb you funky little writer!
Simple Gifts by QuizzicalCrow Rating: G    Category: Gen   ~6,700 words Summary: One year ago, Izuku received the greatest gift he could ever imagine. Now he’s determined to return the favor for the one responsible for it all with a gift of his own.  First off, I love the idea of Izuku and Toshi quietly celebrating the anniversary of passing on OfA from All Might to Izuku. Even just taking the day to hang out with each other. It’s a really precious idea. But there’s not just fluff! Izuku finds himself in a fight, again. (cool villain quirk, too!) I love all of the small details that are in this fic (and in Crow’s other works, too!) anyway its exciting AND very heartwarming, so go read it!!!
Affectionate by Sevi007 (tumblr: @sevi007 ) Rating: G   Category: Gen   ~2,600 words Summary: Toshinori starts to show affection very easily around his students. The  reactions he gets for that are not quite the ones he had anticipated - well, not all of them, at least.  Toshi is LOVED, APPRECIATED, and 1A feels like HOME. how many times can i say “cute” and “heartwarming” on this post?? bc these are some amazing writers, whom I adore, and their writing makes my heart WARM. AND. FUZZY. i mean, even just the first few paragraphs of this one just, really sets the scene of what i like to believe the 1A dorm is (on a good day, lol). its a really nice read, so go treat yo’ self by reading it.
paint me in trust by dinomight Rating: G   Category: Gen   ~6,400 words Summary: The first mark Izuku gets is a slight brush of green across his temple. It’s the soft touch of a mother holding her son for the first time. Inko has one to match, the same shade of green staining the tips of her fingers. Hers is more noticeable; Izuku’s tends to blend into his hairline. He loves it anyways. He has to. It’s the only soulmate mark he has. (Or: how Izuku goes from just green to a rainbow, UA-style.)  Ok, so this fic sort of plays off the idea of soulmates, and does not fit in with soulmates in the usual form of the trope. First off its completely platonic. Its categorized as Gen and sticks to that. Also it doesn’t seem to be as obligatory and permanent as you would think it would be. It seems to be more of the universe telling you who has the possibility of being important in your life. I really really loved this, it was so adorable and gives you that sweet, sweet Izuku angst, before healing your heart with the power of friendship and found family!!!
The Die Has Been Cast by ChiwiTheKiwi (tumblr: @chiwithekiwi​ ) Rating: G   Category: Gen   ~5,400 words Summary: “There’s something about that kid you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?”When no answer meets him, Shouta tries again.“You know something about Midoriya’s quirk that you haven’t shared with me. Is that right?”(Or: A canon "What If" surrounding the latest manga events and focusing on Aizawa finally making a connection.) First off, this fic has spoilers for the manga, so dont read unless you’re past chp212! I loooooooove OfA reveal fics, especially when it’s Aizawa that finds out. He deserves to know!!! its kind of important!!!! This fic chooses a great moment to work off of, and does a great job with Aizawa’s character. I really enjoyed it and couldn’t keep myself from going back and reading it just now LOL
These last two are actually two-shots, but it makes it an even 10! also Izuku and dadmight, so we can continue the theme here...
Some Unspoken Thing by LittleKy Rating: G   Category: Gen   ~7,900 words (2chps) Green, Toshinori has always thought, is the color of life anew.(Or: It's time for Yagi Toshinori to finally accept that he has a son, now, in all but blood. It's time for Midoriya Hisashi to accept that as well.) YES ALL MIGHT! ADMIT THAT IZUKU IS YOUR SON! great portrayal of the characters and really hits the nail on the head for DadMight. and Izuku in this story is just the smallest green floof that you wish to give a hug. NEVER MIND ALL MIGHT, YOU TOOK TOO LONG SO IZUKU IS MY SON NOW AND IM NOT GIVING HIM BACK ( no but seriously i want to hug this fic its so cute TTuTT )
LAST BUT NOT LEAST! I See You by BirdAntlers (tumblr: @aarymk )
Rating: G   Category: Gen   ~15,400 words (2chps) Midoriya Izuku is a quirkless child, blind from birth. Yagi Toshinori is the most powerful man in the world, loved by millions. They could not be more different, and yet their loneliness is the same.   (From a pair of AU posts on Tumblr that got way out of hand; I wanted to put it here because it turned into more of a fic than a "what-if." Basically a vessel for me to vomit as much Dadmight as I can.) Hey, you! Yeah! You! Do you want to cry? Do you want to start sobbing in a public space?? Do you just want to be destroyed with words and be left there kneeling at the feet of a writer who has torn out your heart and stomped on it before they gently wipe the tears from your face? Yeah?? y oU Wan NA D IE??? READ THIS AND GET REKT.  you’ll thank me later
(under the cut is just me rambling, i kept all the important stuff up here, ur welcome)
Now that the actual recs are over I can rant here- look i really tried to slim my recs down, but i have almost 300 bnha fics bookmarked,some of them are “to read” or theyre in progress, etc but i managed to get this list sorta slimmed down? a little?(to only 58!!!) but as i was gathering this post together it felt like i dont have very many Dadmight recs on that list??? but i havent rechecked all the other fics i was just going through the oneshots. i... kinda read a lot more fics with AIzawa in it instead. it be that way. DadMight content is SO GOOD. but my fav is aizawa im sorryyyyy anyway i have another SEVENteeN oneshots to put in rec posts and that does NOT include the mulitchapter and friikin series and stuff... and like i said this is aaaaaaallllllllllllllll BnHA. batfam fic posts will come after, and then star wars, and then maybe star trek? we’ll see. i have a very specific taste in ST fics and that is Tarsus IV whump. which. i have not read in a while. when they say “that trope came from ST” for sooooooo many tropes, you WISH other fandoms had tarsus as a trope, holy crap it is TOP TIER angst fodder. if you love to write/read whump, angst, and h/c i would HIGHLY recommend that you take a bit of time and explore the content and stories there. heck maybe i will make a ficrec post for just tarsus angst. ok.
my INTENTION is to edit these posts later with little links to the other fic rec lists so that itll be easier to find. but., its me, so itll either happen in painful detail or not at all
asdjkdgh its 2:30am and i need to sleep and not be rambling incoherently again I WILL SAVE THIS AS A DRAFT. 
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kookoosbunnynose · 4 years
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Ch.1 || Ch.2
Pairing: Neighbor!Jungkook/FWB!Jungkook x Artist!Reader
Genre: Slowburn, Smut, Angst, Humor
Word Count: 11.4k
Warnings: Cursing | Slutty Jimin, we love him | mentions of emotional abuse | large jungcock | dom!jungkook | dom/sub themes |a singular use of a sir kink | dirty talk, lots | oral (f recieving) | he so gentle uwu, and then he’s very not gentle lmao
Summary: You’re an art student in need of a partner for your new collaboration piece, who is there to help you but your new neighbor, Jeon Jungkook. You two paint together but leave with much more than a colorful canvas.
A/N: Hello! I know! Dumb bitch finally updated the fic lmao. but i’m really excited about this part and even more excited for the rest of the fic. If you haven’t read chapter 1 yet go read it! 
-----------------------------------
Thankfully, even though you didn’t get to bed by the time you wanted last night, after the whole ‘y/n is a dumbass and got locked out’ debacle, you woke up with enough time to take it slow this morning. Mornings like these were your favorite, no rush. Just you sitting at your vanity getting ready for your day, jamming along to whatever song comes on your shuffle, using various items as a makeshift microphone.
You’re in the heat of Colors by Halsey when there’s a knock at your door, you abruptly cut off your poorly tuned melody, feeling caught. You quickly finish the eyebrow you’re working on as you don’t want the person at the door to see you with the one and a half you’re currently sporting. Good enough.
You rush to your front door, careful not to let your fluffy socks make you slip on the linoleum. When you open the door only to be greeted by your fluffy haired neighbor. He looks good in the morning too? Well that’s just fucking peachy. You’re making this difficult Jeon.
“Good morning.” You smile trying to hide how distraught you are.
“Good morning, sorry to bug you” he smiles sheepishly. “I was just hoping I could steal an egg from you? We’re out.” He asks hopeful.
“Oh, yeah of course. Just a second.” You turn on your heels to grab an egg from the kitchen. When your face is hidden by the fridge door you take a second to take a deep breath before making your way back to him. “Just one?” You ask when you hand it to him.
“Yeah one’s good, thank you y/n.” He gives you a small bow and opens his door. “See you later.”
---
“Hello gorgeous.” Yoongi says as your trio approaches the counter.
“Morning handsome.” Jimin smirks and steps in front of you.
“I was talking to y/n.”
“Her?” He looks over his shoulder at you. “While I’m here? That doesn’t sound right.” He scrunches his nose as if he’s doing mental math.
“I’ll just get your usual started.” He says leaning to the side so he can see your face.
“Thank you.” You laugh at them swipe your card and take the blueberry muffin he slides your way. You step to the side and wait for your boys to order their drinks.
“Remind me why we still come here.” Joon asks the two of you as you make your way to the pick-up end of the counter.
“Because we’ve been doing it since we started uni. We’re old and stuck in our ways, Joonie. There’s no backing out now.” You reply woefully.
“What are we? Boomers? We can go to a different coffee shop.” Namjoon furrows his brows.
“Order for Sweets!” A now familiar boxy smiled boy behind the counter says.
“Oh no we can’t. Not anymore.” Jimin says his attention caught by Tae.
“Look who wants to fuck the neighbors now!” You whisper yell at them before stepping toward the counter.
“Ha! You admit it!- Wait, neighbor?” You hear Jimin behind you.
“Hi Tae! Thank you.”
“Hello y/n!” He smiles and leans in to make his voice hushed. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you and Yoongi a thing? He covers like half your bill and calls you pet names everyday.” He lists off the, admittedly odd, circumstances of your relationship. 
“Oh, no we’re not. We just flirt back and forth. I think if he had any real intention behind it he would’ve asked me out by now, in my experience he’s pretty straight forward.” You chuckle.
“Ah okay. Would you want him to ask you out?”
“I did in the beginning but it’s been well over a year. As far as he goes, I’m sated with just the flirting.” 
“Ah, I see.” He turns away to grab the next two cups. “Orders for Jimin and Namjoon!” He calls over.
“Why do you ask?”
He pauses for a second. “I was just curious, he’s kinda like that with a couple girls but you seem to be his favorite.”
“Well it’s been a while, seniority I guess.” You shrug and your counterparts join you at the counter. “Oh how rude of me, these are my roommates. This is Taehyung.”
“Ah, nice to meet you, I’ll probably be seeing you guys a lot. I’m across the hall pretty often.” You all chuckle. “I wish I could talk longer but I don’t want to hold up the line, see you!” He smiles. 
The three of you give various forms of a goodbye as you leave to find your usual table. 
“Okay, is no one gonna say it?” Jimin says once you’re seated and safely out of ear shot.
“Say what?” Namjoon asks scrunching his face at his hot coffee.
“What do you mean ‘say what?’” Jimin says blinking slowly at your brother. “What is in those boys’ cheerios?” 
“Fiber?”
“No! You fucking tree!” 
“Y/n really? Now he’s calling me that, too?” You shrug.
---
You take a breath in as you walk into the art studio, the smell of paint and pencil lead tickling your nose. You take your usual seat at a large table and check your phone for your list of assignments. The professor sends you a large list of all the assignments at the beginning of the semester. Giving students the freedom to choose what order they do them in, the only stipulation is that you must have half turned in by midterms and the other half by the end of the semester. A much more doable lesson plan than a lot of your past professors. Being forced to be creative is draining and doesn’t get you far.
You scan down the list of possibilities until you find one that catches your eye. Monochromatic self portrait (any color)? No. Pretend you have synesthesia and illustrate your favorite song? Eh, not today. Collaboration piece? Ugh, I can’t even if I wanted to. I need to find someone to work with. Create 5 random custom colors and paint a landscape using only those colors (5”x5”)? Sounds like I could get that done before I leave. Perfect.
You pop in your earbuds and get to work. Deciding acrylic would be best for a quick painting, you grab a pallet and a sizable glob of each of the primary colors along with black and white. A little red here, a little yellow there, and some white for this one. You continue putting in different combinations until you have five colors you’re happy with not worrying if they’ll make sense for scenery. Fuck it. Who says trees can’t be purple? 
As you dip your brush into your small selection of paints and watch the way the colors glide onto the canvas, it makes a sense of ease wash over you. Breathing life into a piece no matter how simple creates a new little reality in it’s own right. Expands our universe one brush stroke at a time. In the least cringy art kid way possible, of course.
You continue your work, mouthing along to your music as you go. Rust tinted grass and a peachy sky coming together in a way that definitely isn’t realism but ends up having a sunset feel due to the warm hues you chose. Just a few touch ups here and there and you’re done.
You pack up your things and head home with your new little creation to dry completely overnight. It’s already mostly dry but the textured parts still have a way to go. 
---
  “I really need to go grocery shopping. Thank you again, y/n.” Bunny teeth shining as he leaves your apartment with a mug of tea in place of the hot water he showed up with.
Today is day… eight? Of a new routine has developed over the course of the week. Everyday without fail, whether it be morning or evening, an egg or a cup of milk. Jungkook comes over and asks for a small food item, thanks you, and returns home. No big deal, but it’s apparent that those idiots really need to restock their fridge. It’s like having a stray cat that comes around every night after you feed it once. A really big stray cat… with pretty hair, and a cute lip mole, that always smells like fresh laundry and citrus… anyway-
Time to officially start the day and pretend that little mental tangent didn’t just happen. Go team!
You finish doing some light makeup and throw on some ripped mom jeans and a black hoodie. Enough effort to look like you care, but still comfy. You throw your bag over your shoulder, slip your boots on and head out the door.
Finding parking on campus at this time of day is a nightmare and usually takes longer than just walking since you live just off school grounds. So you make your short walk and stop by the cafe by yourself. You usually go alone only once a week; there’s only one day where you’re the only one of your roomies to have a morning class. 
You order, give Tae his morning hello and make your way to class. 
Classes pass with relative ease. You listen and take notes; taking notes more so meaning doodling along the margins of your notebook than anything else. Really putting those scholarships to good use. 
Art history, meeting with the theater department about painting props, studio, home. 
You enter your apartment and are met with Jimin and Namjoon sitting on the couch about to start the obligatory bi-monthy screening of Your Name. 
“Hey! Were you gonna start the movie without me?” You kick off your shoes and take a running leap onto your spot on the couch.
“No! We were waiting for you, we’re not monsters.” Namjoon retorts in defense.
“That’s exactly what someone who wasn’t waiting for me would say.” You narrow your eyes at your little brother at the other end of the couch.
“Would you two stop bickering for two seconds. It’s starting.” Jimin puts a hand over both your mouths from his spot between you.
“Sheesh, grumpy pants.” You grumble when he lowers his arms.
The movie is filled with the same sobs and ‘awe’s that it always is, always ending in tears for at least one of you. Breathtaking animation coupled with a heart wrenching story, no matter how many times you watch it, it never fails to amaze. As much as you would’ve loved more closure at the end of the movie, the ambiguous ending couldn’t be more poetic. 
“Joonie, what would you do if we switched bodies?” You turn to your brother as the credits roll.
“Probably get a discounted coffee.” He deadpans.
“Oh, you’re no fun!”
“More money in my bank account sounds very fun.” 
Your retort cut off by a knock at the door from your neighbor for his daily snack, so you settle for throwing the pillow sitting in your lap in his direction as you stand. Which he tries to swat away only to end up with a faceful of cushion. Ha, get got bitch.
“Do you need an egg?” You say as you open the door.
“Uh- No I’m good? Thank you for asking.” Tae chuckles, you freeze your eyes widening.
“Oh my god, I thought you were Jungkook.” You let out a stiff laugh and shuffle your feet in embarrassment. “Anyway, what brings you all this way?” You joke, attempting to alleviate a bit of the blush on your cheeks.
“I just wanted to see if you’d wanna chill with us tonight? We had a lot of fun last time. Nothing special, but I wanted to see if you were up for it.” He smiles. “You guys are more than welcome to join too if you’d like!” He shouts over your shoulder at the boys sitting on the couch when he notices them sitting there.
“Nah we’re good Jimin and I have a test in the morning, and if I don’t force him to study with me he’ll fail.” Namjoon says from the couch
“I would not!” Jimin turns to him offended.
“Okay, I’ll study alone then.”
“No, please help me.” He deflates.
“See.” Joon smirks. “Thank you for the offer though!” He calls over to Tae.
“No problem, next time?”
“Next time.” He echoes.
“I’ll hold you to it.” He points a slender finger in your brother’s direction. “What about you, y/n? Are you down?” He directs his attention back to you.
“Right now?”
“If that works for you, Kook will be back from work shortly, it’ll just be Hobi and I for a little bit.” 
“Yeah, sounds good to me.” You smile. “Just let me go grab a couple things real quick and then I’m good to go!”
You scurry to your bedroom and take a look at yourself in the mirror, evaluating the damage the day has done to your makeup. Not bad. You give the apples of your cheeks a quick squeeze to bring back a little color, scramble to find your tinted lip balm, and fluff up your hair a little. There we go. Cute. Now to find something to bring with me so this little panicked face check isn’t a complete lie. Phone charger is good.
With your phone charger in hand and a revived complexion you head back out. 
“Thanks for waiting.” Tae gives you a nod and you smile while you give your boys a wave as you walk out the door.
You walk into the boys apartment and are immediately greeted by a wagging Bread who you kneel to give a plethora of loves, giggling when he hops up and tries to kiss your face.
“Hey y/n!”
“Hey Hobi!” You say as you follow Tae over to the couch with Bread right on your heels. 
“Glad you decided to join us. Kook will be here soon, he left work not long ago.” 
“I gave her the run down before we came over.” Tae smiles.
“How have classes and shit been?” You ask them
“Not ideal. I pulled a muscle in my leg.” Hobi rubs his calf. “With a big performance coming up on friday, but the show must go on, you know.” He shrugs.
“Oh shit dude, will you be okay?”
“He does this at least once a semester.” Tae says waving it off, used to his friend pushing through his injuries. 
“Yeah, it sucks for a bit but I’ll have some wiggle room to rest after this test.” He reassures.
“Okay good, just don’t die.” You chuckle.
“I’ll try not to.” He laughs.
“I’ve been doing a few surveys for my psych classes, would you mind if I get some data from you?” Tae looks to you, taking full advantage of the small lull in conversation.
“Tae no.” Hobi’s face falls and he rubs his temples.
“Do you find Chuck E. Cheese fuckable?” He asks, a genuine question mark in his eyes.
You blink. “What the hell kind of psych classes are you taking?”
“Just answer the question, y/n.”
You look at Hobi for some sort of answer, though you’re not even sure what your question is. “You’re gonna have to just answer him, he’s been on about it all day.” 
“Fucking of course not. Why on earth would I want to fuck a rat? And even if I did, why would I want to fuck a robotic rat roughly the size of an entire kindergarden class?” 
“First of all, he’s a mouse.” Tae corrects. “Second of all, THANK YOU!” He throws his arms up and flops against the back of the couch. “One kid in my class started this somehow and the room was surprising split. About forty percent of the people in that room said ‘Charles Entertainment Cheese’ was sexy! It got pretty heated, people were yelling that the opposing side that we ‘just couldn't handle his raw sexual power.’” He says exasperated with overdone air quotes. “So I’ve been asking everyone all day because I just can’t stop thinking about it.”
“I suppose I can see how that would plague your mind.” You laugh.
“Anyway!” Hobi interjects, clearly tired of the subject. “How are your things going, y/n?” 
You chuckle at his wide eyes. “They’ve been good. I’ve been spending more time in the studio with midterms coming up. But I need to find someone to work with me on a collab piece. I wanna have it in by midterms so I don’t have to worry about it during finals.” you sigh at the thought. 
“Awh, I would help with that but I already did that assignment and I’m not sure if they’d let me do it again with someone else?” Tae says with a small frown.
“I’d offer but the only thing I am versed in is drawing stick figures and arguably anatomically incorrect dicks.” Hobi chuckles.
“Thanks you guys.” You smile. “It’s alright though, I might just ask Jimin to get drunk and throw some paint at a canvas with me.”
“Hey! This reminds me, a couple days ago when you got coffee you promised you’d show me some of your work when we hung out next.” Tae looks at you sternly, arms tight across his chest. “The time has come Miss y/n.” 
“Ah, I suppose I did.” You say as you grab your phone to show him your album of a bunch of your work. “Okay, but I’m no Van Gogh. Go easy on me.” You warn before you hand over your device to him; you always get a little nervous when you show people your art for the first time.
“Hey hey! None of that nonsense! If the way you talk about art is any consolation, then I’m sure the passion alone is enough to make it beautiful.” Tae gives you a stern look followed by a reassuring smile.
“Do you want me to cry? Because this is how you make me cry.” You chuckle and relent your collection of work over to him for them to inspect. 
They open the first photo and you’re met with a mixture of a ‘holy shit’ from Hobi and a ‘wow’ from Tae, their reactions make you smile and your face heat up. 
“These are amazing y/n!” Hobi says as Tae swipes through.
“Thank you guys so much, really.” You say blushing and all but clutching your chest.
You watch their faces intently as they go through, Tae stopping every so often to zoom in and inspect a certain brushstroke that catches his eye. They get toward the end of the photoset when you hear a key in the front door. You’re the only one to turn your head to see Jungkook walk into the apartment. He sets his keys down on the table next to the entrance and his feet stutter a little when he sees you on the couch with his friends. 
“Hey Kook! Y/n was just showing us some of her art, dude she’s so talented!” Hobi calls over his shoulder.
“It’s really good, you should come take a look.” Tae adds, and you laugh nervously.
“That’s so awesome, I will.” He says looking at you with a smile. “I just need to talk to Tae, for a quick second.” He says turning his gaze toward him and tilting his head toward the hall. 
“Oh, is it about that thing?” Tae grits his teeth and sucks in sharp breath.
“Yes, exactly, the thing.” He confirms vaguely, looking relieved.
“Is everything okay?” You furrow your brows and look at each of them.
“He just has a rash, no worries.” Tae tells you in a hushed tone as he stands up. All you can do is blink in response. Jungkook lets out an exaggerated laugh as they disappear into the dark hallway and out of sight.
Once they are safely in the other room Jungkook flicks Tae in the forehead. 
“Ow!” Tae gasps.
“What the fuck was that for?!” Jungkook whisper yells at his idiot of a best friend.
“I was covering for you!”
“You could’ve said literally anything else! I don’t even have a rash!”
“She doesn’t know that!”
“Exactly, you fuck!” Jungkook whispers flicking him again. “Why is she here?! You didn’t warn me!”
“This is what I get for trying to help you?” Tae says rubbing his forehead with a pout.
“Hey! I was handling it just fine on my own!”
“Oh yeah, your plan to slowly raid the entire contents of her fridge was going so great!”
“I just thought!... I thought we would eventually talk or... something?” Jungkook says realizing maybe it wasn’t the best plan in the world. “That’s how my parents used to get to know our neighbors, they’d borrow each others sugar and shit.”
“It’d be easier to talk to her if you just hung out with her and I invited her over for you. You’re welcome! And your parents weren’t trying to fuck your neighbors, were they! Different goal calls for different strategy.” 
“Dude gross, I hope not.” Jungkook scrunches his nose. “And I don’t… just wanna fuck her.”
“Aww, does Googie have a bigger crush than we thought he did.” Tae teases pinching his cheek.
“Fuck you. But thanks I guess… just warn me next time, will you?” Jungkook relents.
“You got it.” Tae says patting him on the shoulder. “I’m only kinda sorry though!” He whispers as he slips out the door. Jungkook follows him to join all of you in the living room.
“Sorry about that.” Jungkook smiles at you as he and Tae take their places next to you on the couch. 
“No worries.” You assure.
“Kook you should take a look at her work, I think you’d like it.” Hobi says passing your phone over to him and your face heats up a little. “I was just telling y/n how you were really artsy in high school.” 
“Oh, it was nothing.” Jungkook waves him off as he starts to look through the photos and stopping a little longer on ones that catch his eye. 
“It wasn’t nothing.” Tae interjects. “Actually y/n, you mentioned needing a partner for that collab piece? Since I can’t assist, I’m sure Jungkook could help you out.” Tae gestures to the two of you.
“Oh no, I couldn’t ask him to do that for me.” You shake your head, looking at both their faces.
Jungkook tilts his head to the side for a second. “I wouldn’t mind at all, it would be fun. I might be a little rusty though.” He says with worried eyes.
“Really? you wouldn’t mind?” You light up. “That would help me out a ton. I’ve been stressing over that piece for weeks.”
“I’d be happy to.” He smiles bright. “I’m off on Saturday, we could work on it then. If that works for you, of course.” 
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” You reach out to shake his hand, effectively sealing the deal. “Thank you so much.” you say and squeeze his hand a little.
“So Kook, I’m collecting data for my psych class-” Tae takes this opportunity to stain your moment of gratitude.
“I already told you, I’m not fuckin’ rats!” Jungkook cuts him off.
“He’s not a rat!”
“Which side are you on?!”
---
“Did I call it? Or did I call it?” Jin looks at you with his stupid smug ass face.
“Listen! It’s nothing!” You throw that damp rag you’re wiping down a table with in his direction.
“It’s not nothing! I can smell your pent up sexual frustration for him from here. You guys are gonna be alone for several hours making art together? What is he, Swayze?”
“Men and women can be platonic friends! You’re not thinking very progressively here, old man.”
“Of course, men and women can be platonic friends.” He says gesturing at the air between you. “But you and what’s his fuck, Junglebook, you said? You two, cannot.” 
“Your lack of faith in me is astounding.” 
“I wouldn’t call it a lack of faith in you, more of an educated assumption… And a lack of faith in both of you.” He smirks. Asshole.
“Fuck you.” You deadpan.
“You know you love me y/nie.” He blows you a kiss.
“You’re lucky I do.”
---
You: I can bring the supplies over whenever you’re ready, just lemme know! Thank you for letting me come over there, it would be hard for creative juices flowing with Joon hovering over us all night. Trying to figure out a deep psychological reason for me painting a flower yellow lmao
You: Oh! And wear clothes you don’t mind getting paint on, stains are inevitable :)
And send. 
Okay listen to me you dumb bitch. You can do this. We got this. For fuck sake why are you so nervous? Pull yourself together! Just enough to prove Jin and Jimin wrong. Do it just to rub it in their faces! Fuck. What are you 12? We can hang out alone with him. This is stupid. I’m stupid. It’s fine. Everything is fine! Shut up.
Tight Buns McCute-Dog: You can come over now, I’m just gonna change real quick, the door is unlocked! (: 
After receiving that reply, instead of him just cancelling, you were relieved he was still willing to help you. However it didn’t help the whole sweating from your ass cheeks with nerves, thing. So overall about the same. Great. 
Doing an abstract painting in these mental conditions will result in accidentally painting several phallic shapes. A Freudian Slip of the wrist if you will. 
After a couple deep breaths, effectively shoving half your feelings deep into the crevices of your mind, and changing his contact name, just for good measure. You grab all the supplies you’ll need and walk across the hall. 
You struggle to open your door while balancing your small box of acrylics, easel and canvas in your arms. Deciding to abandon your easel in the hall for a second while you knock on your neighbor’s door a couple times before you turn the knob. 
Bread is already eager and yipping at you for attention while you attempt to bring everything in and set it up to the side of the living room adjacent to the kitchen. 
---
Jungkook opens your texts and mouths a small ‘oh shit’ not wanting to keep you waiting, but quickly regretting his decision to work out right before he saw you. He wanted to look a little extra muscley but didn’t consider that he’d be a sweaty mess after doing so. 
He settles for telling you he’s changing and hopes you take a few minutes to gather your things so he can blow dry his hair a little. 
Your presence in his apartment is made known when he hears his dog barking and scuttling around. He gives his hair a quick tousel, throws on one of his many black hoodies and a little spritz of cologne. 
Jungkook emerges from his bedroom to find you fumbling with your easel. Cute. 
“Do you need help?” he asks through a giggle.
“Nope! Got everything a hundred percent under control over here.” Your sentence punctuated by your canvas falling to the floor. “Shit.”
“Allow me.” he says handing you the canvas.
“Thank you.” you breath and run a hand through your hair. 
“So what’s the plan? I hope you’re not expecting any Sistine Chapel level work from me.” he chuckles.
“A bunch of naked babies and a priest with the ears of an ass? I appreciate that you don’t bring that to the table.” you raise your brows. 
“Point taken.” 
“The plan is no plan. I mean I wanted to go for something abstract because it’s fun and doesn’t require a lot of brain power. Just put the brush where you think it should go.” you mime a couple brush strokes in the air.
“Sounds easy enough, paint from the heart.” he confirms, patting his chest for emphasis. 
“Oh, I did think one of us could be in charge of warm colors and tints, and the other could do cool colors and shades, and see where that takes us.” you look up expectantly, hoping he likes your almost-plan.
“Sounds interesting.” He looks at the empty canvas, eyes scanning for possibilities. “Which do you want?” 
“I’m partial to cool colors, myself.” 
“Then today, I’m partial to warm.” he smirks. “So are we just feeling what we feel in the moment or is there an emotion we’re trying to convey?” He turns to you, eyes expectant. 
You pause for a second, unsure if you should abandon the theme you were pondering for this piece before you knew Jungkook would be your partner in creation. “Is it too cliche if the theme was ‘love’?” You ask him hesitantly. Immediately regretting not just saying ‘nah man, just throw paint at that bitch.’ 
But much to your surprise. 
“Not at all, it’s a ‘cliche’ for a reason.” He states nonchalantly. “Love is powerful. Whether it’s the painful bit or the part that makes you feel untouchable.” 
A certain fondness hits his eyes that tells you he’s speaking from experience but you don’t pry.
“I’m glad you like the idea.” you smile, relief filling you after he doesn’t exhibit any signs of being uncomfortable. 
He claps his large palms together. “Shall we get started, Miss y/n?” His gaze once directed at the blank canvas, now fully on you. 
“Choose your weapon, Mr. Jungkook.” You feign a serious tone, giving him a small handful of various brushes. Keeping a few of your favorites for yourself. 
You push your box paints toward him indicating he can grab what he likes. Normally you’re a bit protective over your art supplies, seeing as not only are they stupid expensive, but you care for your tools a lot. You wouldn’t let your klutzy brother within a ten foot radius of your things when you were growing up and even now your blood boils if he’s anywhere near your expertly sorted colored pencils. But Jungkook is always gentle and seeing the way he meticulously places small globs of white, reds, and yellows onto his palette, you know you’ve made a good choice in trusting him. 
He steps slightly back letting you put the first ceremonial brush stroke of charcoal black diagonally across the upper most half of your canvas. He joins shortly after deciding to start with white in contrast with your black, laying down some bases for shapes and choosing to run his brush through to disturb the various lines you’ve made, dragging the two tones into a fading grey. 
As your mind wanders towards the way his slender tattooed fingers wrap delicately around the paint brush you quickly come to the conclusion that it’s time to play some background music. Absentmindedly sticking the handle of the brush between your teeth to grab your phone and open your music library.
“What kind of music do you like?” You turn to him, the thin strip of wood in your mouth giving you a slight lisp. 
“I’m not picky, play whatever you want.” he says warmly but his brow still furrowed with concentration while he finishes up his base layer. 
As his answer didn’t do much in the way of helping your quest, you opted for the safety of one of those throwback playlists spotify procures for their listeners, the 90’s one to be exact. Everybody loves some good nostalgia, and it may aid in the sincerity of your painting. Past emotions and whatnot. 
The first song that comes on after you hit shuffle is Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana and you hum in content. Jungkook on the other hand is pleasantly taken aback by your song choice. 
“Oh shit yeah! I love Nirvana!” He smiles brightly, taking his crinkling eyes off his work for the first time since you started. 
“Everybody loves Nirvana.” you tease him and roll your eyes at the possibility of him being one of those frat boys that ‘misses Kurt Cobain so much’ but can only name Smells Like Teen Spirit and maybe Aneurysm if you’re lucky. 
Jungkook, sensing your tone, smirks and runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “You think so, huh?” he bemuses, rolling up his sleeve to uncover this inked skin. Across his forearm is a quote reading ‘rather be dead than cool,’ a lyric from their song Stay Away. He watches you with a quirked brow.
“I stand corrected.” you hold your hands up in defense. Trying not to let the way his inked skin hugs his veins increases your heart rate become too apparent on your features. “You do indeed love Nirvana.” your emphasis on the word being placed differently this time.
“Never doubt me again y/n.” He eyes you suspiciously. “I’ll get more tattoos just to spite you.” He narrows his eyes to add validity to his semi-empty threat.
“I will never doubt you again, scouts honor.” you say playfully saluting him. 
“Now start the song over. Your lack of faith in me, made me miss half the song.” he points a finger at your phone.
“I can’t, I don’t have premium.” you let out a heavy sigh.
“What?! That’s dumb. You suffer through those god awful ads?” He screws his face up in disgust. 
“Eh, I don’t mind too much.” You shrug. “I don’t wanna spend the extra money every month.” 
“Okay, I guess that’s fair.” He squints at you as you pick up your brush again. “Why don’t you just use my account? I’ll text you my login.” He says fishing for his phone in his pocket. 
“That’s completely unnecessary.” You laugh, and wave for him to stop. “You’re already helping me out so much with this.” you gesture to the now less blank canvas in front of you.
“I really don’t mind. What’s the worst that could happen? We expand our music libraries? Oh no!” he pretends to gasp and you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’ll sleep better at night knowing I saved a soul from those creepy ass vitamin water commercials.” He chuckles.
“You really don’t have to.” Your eyes softening at his seemingly endless stream of kindness. 
“Already sent you the login, too late.” he says, sucking in a breath as if to say ‘what a shame.’
“Thank you, Jungkook.” you say as you gently grab his forearm and run your thumb over it.
“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “Back to work now!” he declares, sticking his paint brush, that at some point in your conversation tucked it’s way behind his ear, into his small mountain of yellow. 
You work like this together for a while. Humming along to your music, that is now playing off Jungkook’s phone after he insisted he didn’t wanna hear ‘Colonel Suck-My-Ass’ sing about his chicken deals one more time. The two of you working together seamlessly; the way you blend your colors and make textures complimenting each other nicely. Switching sides of the canvas every so often so it remains balanced. 
After about an hour of being immersed in your work Jungkook turns to you. “Noodle break?” He asks you frowning at his empty tummy.
Your brush stutters on the canvas at his words, your stomach not realizing it’s been hours since you’ve eaten until he mentions food. “That sounds wonderful, actually.” 
“One or two packets?” he asks making his way into the kitchen.
“Just one is good.” you smile, setting your brush into your cup of water. You follow him into the kitchen. “Where do you store your liquid?” you ask standing between the pantry and the fridge, looking lost.
“Fridge.” he answers giving his approval to let you grab the two of you some drinks.
“I see you guys finally went grocery shopping.” you chuckle at the butter and cartons of eggs in his fridge.
“What?- oh right, yeah. Finally dragged Hobi out earlier today.” His smile not quite meeting his eyes while he opens up three packets of ramen, and waits for the water to boil. 
“Can I steal a soda?” 
“Yeah, just not the sprite. Hobi can and will throw a fit.” his tone far more serious than the situation calls for.
“Well damn, okay.” you say and grab a coke for both of you. 
“Thank you.” He smiles and your fingertips brush perhaps a little too long when you hand him his drink. 
He pulls the tab, puts the cold metal to his lips and you watch the way his throat bobs up and down with every swig. When you feel yourself staring your ears heat up, and turn your gaze to the water starting to roll in the pot. 
As Jungkook is finishing up cooking the ramen, the song changes to Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, you let out a small gasp and start to sing along. He smiles at your apparent love for the song and starts to harmonize with you to encourage you to keep going. Which, much to his dismay, did the exact opposite.
“Jeon Jungkook!” you scold. “I didn’t know you had such a beautiful voice!” 
“It’s alright, I guess.” He breathes out and rubs the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “You’re not too bad yourself.” He looks at you with those big doe eyes. And you swear you’ll only look at them for a couple more seconds, as not to fall under their spell. A half hearted oath at best. 
But you start to sing again, you tell yourself it’s to make the most of the song while it’s on but really, you just want to hear honeyed voice hit your ears again. And it does, eyes closed tightly and mouth wide to control his sound. You can’t hold a tune to save your life but the way he carries your sounds with his, it doesn’t matter. Your song is beautiful.
After your musical interruption, you take your bowls to the table and slurp away at your noodles. All the while Bread is at your heels begging ever so sweetly, which Jungkook scolds but ultimately ends up throwing him a noodle when his bowl is just about gone. 
You take your bowl to the sink but when you start rinsing Jungkook comes over to push you out of the way so he can take care of it himself. You stand your ground for a minute but lose the silent argument due to his advantage of stature. You mutter a small ‘fuck you’ before you return to the canvas, and he smiles contently to himself.
Jungkook joins you back at your station, stepping back for a moment to assess where the two of you left off and what he’d like to add. He lets his eyes run over the varying sized lines and the way they come together but also fight one another in some spots. Some colors as bright as the sun and others look like the depths of the ocean. All coming together in a way that only really makes sense to the two of you. 
You finished what was left of your drink and picked up your brush, dipping straight into your black paint for the second time since you started like you were on a mission. You drew a fluid line near the center curving over a few existing splotches, near the end of your brush stroke it became jagged and split off into several directions. A pessimist would call it a shatter, an optimist would call it several opportune paths, and a realist would probably just call it a painting. But Jungkook did none of those things.
“Y/n, have you ever been in love?” He asked as if he had only asked what time it was. He started swirling some colors together while he waited for an answer.
You blinked, trying not to show how much that question shocked you. “I suppose…” you breathed, actually struggling to come up with a real answer. “I mean, last time I was in a serious relationship was in highschool.” You trailed off. “I don’t know if I can say I’ve been in love but I’ve loved someone before… I feel like being in love sticks with you in a different way. More of a life experience than a life lesson.” You scrunched up your face a little, hoping he’d be satisfied with your answer even though you yourself weren’t.
He nodded, taking in your words. “I think being in love can be just as much a life lesson as ‘lesser relationships,’ if not more so.” He adds putting air quotes as not to come across the wrong way. “But hopefully you end up with more positive lessons than not.”  
“Yeah, you’re right. Like learning how you love and need to be loved. What you deserve and what you won’t put up with. Learn to let yourself be loved-” You stop your word vomit after that last comment, feeling a bit vulnerable. “Those kinds of things?” you let out a little laugh.
“Exactly.”
“Is it fair to assume that you have?” You question, hesitating slightly.
“That I have what?” 
“Been in love, dummy.” You laugh, strategically placing a light green around the canvas.
He pauses slightly. “Yeah, I have.” The same fondness that found his eyes earlier that day sets in again. Not in a painful or bitter way, you noted. But in the way you’d regard your favorite childhood memory.
“I didn’t rub salt in a wound, did I?” you tensed slightly incase you read him wrong.
“No no, you’re fine!” He reassures. “It was a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, it hurt like a bitch in the moment, but as they say, time heals all wounds.” he shrugs.
“Can I ask what happened?” You prompted, feeling a little braver this time.
“Well you know, same old story with high school sweethearts.” He paused to fix a spot he didn’t like. “She was a year older than me. She left for university. We tried long distance and after a few months we decided it was too hard. Nothing particularly spectacular.” He tells the story, for what you can tell is at least the thousandth time. “What about you and Mr. Not-Quite-In-Love?”
“Nothing, super special either. Unfortunately, the lessons I learned from him were less than positive. After the initial honeymoon phase, he didn’t treat me the best. Looking back I learned to know the level of respect I deserve, but in the moment his lack of just made me desperate to ‘earn’ it. It was a vicious cycle for about a year but things ended and I grew up. And like you said, ‘time heals all wounds.’” Jungkook looked at you with furrowed brows, not sure if he wants to hug you or the seventeen year old girl you used to be who would see herself as anything less than what she was. But he settled for the former.
He wrapped his arms around you, taking you by surprise. But you accept his embrace and smile against his shoulder. “I’m okay now Jungkook.” You giggle. “It was a long time ago and I learned from it.”
He pulls away. “I know, I’m just sorry it took that dickbag for you to know your worth.” he gives you a sheepish smile, and a fire in his eyes dulls when he looks at you.  
“Thank you, you’re very sweet.” you pat his arm before you both turn back to your respective parts of the canvas. 
“Hey, just cause I’m not a complete asshole, doesn’t mean I’m sweet.”
“I’m holding firm at you’re sweet, and you can’t change my mind.” You both laugh and return your full attention back to your work.
Your rhythm returns to where it was before you ate. Both of you humming along to whatever song is playing at the moment, using your paint brushes as microphones if a particularly good song came on. Exchanging a few words here and there. Each admiring the small things the other chooses to add to the work of art. You noticed Jungkook has a habit of biting his lips when he’s concentrating. Cute. 
Now here you finally are after another hour of blending, layering, and tweaking. Both of you put down your brushes down and stepped back slightly to admire what you’ve created. Letting out a sigh at your hard work, taking in the finalized piece. The way the colors run together or bump into one another. The juxtaposition of fluid lines being interrupted by jagged edges. The way the soberness of the colors you put down calm and soothe the firey and vibrant ones he laid down for you.
Ordinarily, when you finish a painting, you never quite feel done. There’s always one more thing you could fix, one more stroke you could add. But not this time. It’s finished. Breathtaking in a simple way. You’ve never felt such a sense of completeness when you set your brush down, and you can’t help but feel you have Jungkook to thank for it. The way his colors and brush work complemented yours was… for lack of a better term, a work of art. 
---
Jungkook puts down his brush, watching you lay down your final touches. Truth be told he’d been watching you out of the corner of his eye the entire time. Checking in on you every so often when you’d put down your tool and furrow your brows in concentration. Smiling when you’d absentmindedly mumble to yourself about what you’re doing. He was in awe of how much of yourself you put down on the canvas, not entirely sure what wordless stories you were telling meant. Though that didn’t stop him from taking the puzzle pieces you laid down and arranging them into a y/n shaped jigsaw in his mind. Perhaps your fondness of calming colors was to tame the wild fire he could see within you. 
And just as quickly as you’d started, you were done, setting your brush down and smiling at what you saw in front of you. 
“Thank you so much, Jungkook.” You breathe still taking in the painting. “It’s beautiful.” 
“Yeah, it is.” He says just above a whisper, never taking his eyes off your beaming profile. 
“Hm?” You turn to him. He looks into your eyes, once filled with fire are now a calm ocean. His gaze shifts to your lips after they form a confused pout at his silence, his body leading his brain when he leans toward you.
It’s now or never.
He leans in further looking into your eyes for any sign of apprehension before he cups your jaw in his paint stained hand. Finally taking the leap all at once when you lean into his touch. 
His lips are even softer than you imagined when they meld against yours. He pulls away slightly to look at you a question mark across his features. You put your hands flush against his hard chest and answer his question by reconnecting your lips with his with fervor and you feel him smile against you. He deepens the kiss, putting his free hand on your hip to pull you closer to his warm body. 
He swipes his tongue along your bottom lip, testing the waters further. You mirror his action, noting that his lips taste faintly of strawberries. You slide your hands into his soft hair and curl your fingers into fists against his scalp making him groan into your mouth. 
His hand that held its feather like touch against your face leaves it’s place to join his other around your waist. His hands squeezing harshly at your hips, his fingers digging into the strip of skin your shirt rode up to expose, making you shiver against him despite your rising temperature. 
He pulls away to place sloppy kisses along your jaw, nudging your jaw with his nose gently to gain access to your neck. You suck in a breath when you pull him closer causing his teeth to graze your pulse point as his swollen lips leave rosey marks in their wake. He sucks harshly at the soft spot below your ear causing your nerves to flare and a moan to escape your lips. He groans in satisfaction at the way his actions affect you, running his hot tongue over your skin to soothe the marks he made. 
His hands move higher on your abdomen slipping just under the hem of your shirt, making you tense slightly under his calloused palms, he feels your shift and rubs his thumbs below your ribcage to relax your tensed muscles. His gentle fingers vastly opposing his flushed cheeks when he brings his face up to yours again, his hair already messy and his eyes dazed as he looks at your lips like they’re the first glass of water he’s seen in days. He crashes his lips back into yours hungrily causing you to squeak at his desperation. You disconnect your lips leaving almost no distance between you.
“Bedroom?” you ask lowley against his lips, your vocal chords betraying you making the word come out far more shaky and less sexy than you wanted. His shoulders flex under your hands at his request.
Jungkook slides his hands down your ass to squeeze the flesh in his hands when his finger tips graze the back of your thighs. 
“Up.” he says firmly, offering you free transport to his bed. You hop up, his strong arms hold you and you wrap your legs tightly around his narrow waist. He starts the small walk to his bedroom, and you try to ignore the way his stomach pressed against your clothed clit is providing the smallest amount of friction with each of his steps, instead deciding to direct your attention to him instead. You give a gentle open mouthed kiss to the small mole on the side of his neck, you make a small path sucking where his jaw meets his neck, and he hums deeply making his chest rumble against yours in response.
When you reach his room, the smell of his fabric softener fills your lungs as he presses your back against his now closed door. His hands trail from your ass, trusting you to hold yourself up around him, up your sides, he slides your arms from around his neck and to the wall until your hands are effectively pinned above your head. The air between you is heavy for a moment as his dark eyes take in how you look like this, your eyes starry as your chest rises and falls in anticipation of his next move. 
He kisses you again, slower this time. You whimper into his mouth when his hips grind his hard dick into your clit. His thighs flexing under yours as he grinds up again harder, swallowing as many of your beautiful sounds as you’ll give him. 
He stops his hips and tucks his arms under you again to set you on his bed. 
You reach your shirt to pull it over your head but he stops you.
“Let me.” He says half a statement, half a question. 
You smile and say nothing but grant him permission by raising your arms above your head. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt grazing your skin making goosebumps blossom on your flesh as he pulls it up and over your head. He reaches for the clasp of your bra slowly and gently like you might break, as if he wasn’t just shoving you against his door with his cock. 
“Fuck.” He breathes out harshly when your hardened nipples are finally released to the cool air of his room.
He quickly strips off his hoodie revealing that he’s been painting without a shirt underneath the whole night. Your breath hitches as all the times you’d touched his arm or chest the hours prior, not knowing there was only a thin barrier between your fingers and his skin. You run your eyes over his bare chest and hard stomach, you knew he worked out but hot damn, those baggy clothes he wears does no justice to what’s under them. However he doesn’t give you much time to marvel before he reconnects his lips with yours leaning into you until your back is on his duvet, you spread your legs to make room for him to settle in between. 
His hot skin drags softly against your nipples as he descends down your frame to pepper kisses along the valley of your breasts. He licks his fingers to roll one of your nipples between his wet digits while he attaches his mouth the other, swirling his tongue in intoxicating circles. You sigh at the small relief his mouth is bringing you and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging roughly when his teeth bite down onto your sensitive bud. You feel the bed bow slightly below you as his hips stutter at your action. He quickly tends to the small sting with his tongue. Giving a gentle kiss to your nipple as he pulls away. 
He sits up and hooks his fingers into your pants, but stops before tugging them down. “Is this okay?” He asks sincerely. 
“Very.” You say, your heart clenching at his concern and help him slide your pants to your ankles, eager to have his soft skin on yours again. 
He brings his lips to your neck again and you wrap your legs around his waist rocking your hips up to rub your neglected clit against his rigid cock that he has yet to spring free. The wet spot on your panties rubbing off onto his sweats. You moan into his ear at the small relief you’re able to bring yourself, arching your back further in attempt to get more friction and he chuckles against your skin.
“Patience, sweetheart.” He smirks down at you and your feeble attempt to feel his cock. 
“Don’t wanna be patient. Want you to fuck me.” You say trying your best not to whine, as you reach for the waistband of his pants. 
He runs his tongue along his lip and leans down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, don’t worry beautiful, I will.” He moves your hands and rolls his hips into yours once to punctuate his sentence. “But I wanna taste you first.” He says and quickly sits back on his knees to slip your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him not worrying about where they land. 
He settles his shoulders under the back of your thighs and makes a path of open mouth kisses from your knee to your inner thigh, stopping right before your sex and inhaling deeply as he sucks a bruise into your skin, your face heats up and your hips shake in excitement. 
“You smell fucking delicious, sweetheart.” he looks up at you with soft doe eyes that completely contradict his filthy words. He lingers just a whisper away from where you want him and you roll your hips to meet his lips. He smirks again at your frustration moving his lips to your other knee to make a wet path up your other leg with his mouth, seeing how long he can push you. Stopping midthigh to speak again into your skin. 
“I wanna take my time with you sweets. Greedy little girls don’t get to cum on my tongue.” His eyes darken when they look up at you, his words sending electricity through your nerves and arousal dripping onto his sheets.
You opt for silently nodding as the only thing you could muster at the moment is a whine that you want to keep at bay. 
“Are you gonna take what I give you, sweetheart?” He says rubbing circles into your hip.
“Yes, Sir.” You breathe trying your best not to roll your hips into his touch and get scolded again. 
“Good girl.” He smiles at your compliance and finally gives you what you want.
He licks a long flat stripe up your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue and swirling it around your throbbing clit. Your thighs tighten around his head and he groans against you. 
“Taste even sweeter than I imagined.” He all but moans into your folds. He swears he could get off just like this, with his tongue buried in your cunt and his hips rocking his cock into his mattress. 
You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. He obliges you and wraps his lips around your clit sucking harshly, crude slurping noises filling the room but both of you are too lost in the sensation to care. Your hips start rocking against his mouth again, this time your body fully taking a mind of its own, your climax being the only thing you can think about. 
“That’s my good girl, use my tongue to get off.” You moan louder at his words and speed up your movements, balling his hair into fists. As he looks up at you with lidded eyes, he gets lost, lost in your taste, lost in the way your sweaty chest heaves with your heavy breaths, lost in the way his name falls from your lips with your eyes screwed shut.
“I’m s-so fucking close!” your voice comes out in a strained moan cracking at the end of your sentence. 
“Cum for me beautiful, wanna taste your cum.” He says wrapping his lips around your clit again to pull your orgasm from you. He may have called you greedy, but he couldn’t get enough of the way your thighs shook around him. 
“Holy shit! Jungkook!” your orgasm hits you like a wave starting in your stomach and sending fire through your veins. Your hips stutter and Jungkook licks you languidly through your high. All the while your mouth mutters his name in an incoherent mantra. 
He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and climbs over you leaning on his forearms, and captures your lips in his. You taste yourself on them and smile against his mouth.
“You look so beautiful when you cum.” He says placing soft kisses along your jaw. And you’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks flare at his comment. “Think you can still take my cock?” he says squeezing himself at the base through his pants. 
“God yes.” You say perhaps a little too enthusiastically and he chuckles at you. 
“You really are a greedy one, aren’t you sweetheart?” He says teasingly. “Let me get you ready first.” He says rubbing his thumb in small circles on your clit, your sensitivity makes you jump a little.
He looks down to watch the way your velvet walls swallow his fingers, but he stops his movement, realizing his hands are still covered in paint. 
“Shit.” He mutters almost silently. “I’ll be right back.” He says with a smile pecking your lips before he slips out his door. Closing it behind him just in case, as not to let Hobi unknowingly come home early only to find you spread eagle on his roommates bed. 
What the hell is he doing? Your eyebrows furrow, worried he’s gonna get some sort of convoluted sex toy. Which while you wouldn’t normally object, that’s a tad presumptuous on his part. 
Your mental ramble cut short and worries put to rest when he reenters the room with clean hands. He strips his sweats from his hips and climbs back over you.
“Sorry, I didn’t want you to get some sort of paint-chemical related rash on your… lady bits.” He says hesitantly breathing out a laugh against your cheek.
“While that’s incredibly considerate of you. That sentence didn’t do much for my ‘lady bits’.” you know what his venom filled tongue is capable of, so his childish use of words makes you giggle. 
He rolls his eyes at you and cups your face, pulling you in for another deep kiss. His hand snakes down between your legs and when his thumb connects with your clit you squeak and break the kiss.
“Your hands are freezing.” you say with more of a pout than you’re willing to admit. You presume he didn’t wanna make you wait too long so he washed his hands in cold water. 
“Why don’t you warm them up for me?” he quirks a brow and smirks. Bringing his hand up to your mouth and sticking his middle and ring finger between your lips. You happily wrap your lips around his digits; licking, sucking, and humming in content around them.
Jungkook’s cock twitches in his boxers as he watches your cheeks hollow slightly around his slender fingers, resisting from pushing them deeper in your mouth and seeing how pretty you look when you gag for him. 
He removes his hand from your mouth, marveling at the string of saliva that follows it. He reaches down to tease your entrance letting your spit and arousal get you ready for his stretch. He slips his fingers into your dripping core and has to hold back from moaning at how well you hug him. 
“Your pussy is so tight, sweetheart.” He breathes. “Your sweet cunt is gonna squeeze me real well won’t it?” He says catching your bottom lip between his teeth. You can’t help but clench around his fingers. “That’s my good girl.” He says, his eyes darkening and he curls into your sweet spot, you moan at how quickly he seems to be learning your body. Like he could figure out exactly what makes you tick if you stayed in his bed for just a while longer.
He removes his fingers making you whimper. He slips his boxers down a little and uses your arousal and his precum to wet his dick. Your mouth waters and you clench around nothing at how beautiful he looks slowly pumping himself with furrowed brows, until now he’s done a good job of not showing how badly his body demands to be touched just as much as yours does. 
He lines himself with your entrance and teases your clit with the tip of his cock, fighting the urge to slam himself into you to the hilt. 
“Do you want me to grab a condom?” he says mere millimeters away from slipping into you. 
“I’m on the pill.” you reassure and gasp at how close he is to giving you everything you wanted since he crashed his lips into yours at the easel. Or possibly before that.
That’s all he needed to hear before he pushed his cock past your entrance and into your wet pussy, the stretch he’s giving you making you thank him silently for insisting on warming you up first. 
“Fuck.” You both moan at how well you squeeze around him. He goes slow, inching in to give you time to adjust. You wrap your legs around his waist to encourage him deeper. He continues his slow pace breathing hot and thick against your neck. 
He sits up to watch how he disappears inside you. “Look how well you take my cock, sweetheart.” He says picking up some speed in his thrusts. You moan at how well he hits every spot in you that’s been left untouched tonight, his dirty words only further building the pressure in your pelvis. 
His thrusts become harder and you reach up you brace yourself on his biceps, his muscles flexing while he supports his weight above you. He angles his hips up slightly hitting your sweet spot perfectly, and you nearly yelp at the sensation, digging your nails into his arms making him hiss.
“Right there? Is that how your little pussy likes it?” He feigns a subtle innocence in his voice. Like he can’t see with his own eyes how well he’s fucking you.
“Yes, fuck! Please don’t stop.” you beg, mostly to get him to do just that, but also because of the sweaty fog his delicious cock has worked into your mind isn’t exactly allowing you to form the most intelligent of sentences.
He sits back on his knees and pushes one of your legs to your chest, his dick hitting deeper than you thought possible making your eyes roll back and your jaw slack. Your moans become uncontrollable and the words you’re attempting to say just come out in broken sounds.
“Such a good slut for me, look at you falling apart on my cock.” his voice almost a growl. “You gonna cum soon, sweetheart?” He says with a voice like silk to mask how close he is himself.
You can’t do more than nod fractically at his words in fear your voice will betray you. He rubs your clit with his thumb to earn your second climax from you.
And you do, your walls tighten around his cock but his pace doesn’t falter. Your legs shake and your eyes roll back. You cover your mouth to muffle a scream. Your orgasm ripping through you so hard you feel like you might burst. 
Jungkook hisses at how hard you’re squeezing him and fucks you through your high. He reaches to his headboard to fuck into you harder, being selfish for the first time tonight, using you to chase his own high.
“Where do you want it?” He says in a stifled whine.
“Cum inside Jungkook. I want you to fill me up.” You say pressing your nails into his chest. The overstimulation you feel in your core is worth every thrust when he finally lets go and fills you with his cum. His cock twitching as he slowly rides out his climax. 
He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily into your neck. Then rolls over to the other side of the bed, to allow both of you some cool air on your skin. 
“I hope I didn’t go too hard at the end there, are you okay?” He looks over at you with worried eyes.
“No. No it’s okay, I liked it.” you smile, your lungs and heart rate working hard to steady themselves.
After he’s caught his breath a little he reaches into his bedside table to get a small rag to wipe up some of his cum leaking out of you, and you suddenly feel very vulnerable at his thoughtful gesture. 
The post sex clarity hitting your mind, not quite in the way you hoped. As you lay there the height of what you two just did sending your mind go into overdrive.
Oh fuck. You run through the events of the night starting to panic a little. He’s my friend, how did this even happen? I wasn’t gonna do this. I wasn’t gonna let this get more complicated than my attraction to him already was. Shit, I’m an idiot. I mean he did kiss me, but… I can’t let this happen again. I don’t want this to end badly and have to move just because I think with my idiot vagina. It makes things too complicated. Okay, I have to end whatever that was now before things get even more complicated. He won’t mind right? He’s a college dude, he’s probably fine with just hittin’ it and quittin’ it. Yeah, everything is good. Friends can fuck once and then be good, it happens all the time. 
You sit up from his bed and run your hands through your hair a couple times in an attempt to tame it and start to pick up your clothes. 
“Are you okay?” He says, watching you as you attempt to find your underwear.
“Yeah, I’m good, just have an early class in the morning and I should probably get going.” you force a smile. 
“Oh, uh okay.” He says not quite convinced. Though you weren’t lying about that, you really did have a class in about seven hours.
“Hey um,” you hesitate, sliding your pants on just choosing to abandon your underwear. “This was just a one time thing, right?” you ask him, hating the way you said that. 
He senses your tone and feels a little twinge in his chest, but he ignores it, putting on a smile instead. “Yeah, definitely. Why do you ask?” 
“Okay, good.” Another twinge. “I just don’t want things to be too complicated, with us being neighbors and all…” You trail off, trying not to cringe at yourself. 
“Yeah, that makes sense.” He pauses, realizing for the first time that this could have negative consequences. “No worries, it’s forgotten. Just friends.” He reassures pulling his pants on.
“Just friends.” You smile and extend your hand to him. You shake on it. 
You pull your shirt over your head. 
“See you later, neighbor.” You say attempting to bring back the way things were just an hour ago. And you slip out his door.
He doesn’t walk you home like he normally does, and honestly you’re thankful. You just want to be back in your apartment where you can pretend that didn’t just happen. Even if that was one of the best fucks you've ever had, you're certainly not going to think about it. What is there to think about? Nothing happened.
You slip out his door, and into yours, met with Jimin munching in your kitchen, presumably after a party and your feet halt in their tracks. 
“Damn babe, you look positively wrecked.” He says with a knowing smirk.
“Jimin, I am so not in the mood for whatever you’re about to say.” you say exasperated.
“Oh, so I should save the ‘I told you so’? Would you rather get it in the morning?” He asks innocently, though he’s anything but.
“Preferably never.” You quip and slip into your bedroom.
Yeah, never is good, we’re just gonna pretend none of that happened.
-----------------------------
Taglist: @taezeus​ @spoopysoph​ @gucci-prince-tae​ @jiminiesthiccthighs​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​ @hermiones-enchantment​ @irissilujm​ @flo-music​ @scalbra​ @sugarrimajins​ @embrace-themagic​ @megsmiiiii​ @nerdycookiemonster-1222​ @livorna​ 
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buck-nialled · 4 years
Note
Can you write a imagine were Y/N is willies friend and comes to quarantine at his and Niall’s. Niall ends up liking her and willie encourages him to speak to her or something xx
NOTE: so sorry this took so long to post anon its been the course of weeks i have attempted at writing and rewriting this multiple times and i am still a bit unsure about it so if you or any readers would like to give feedback that would be vv appreciated! Also put a lil thing in here for the anon who thought it’d be cool to incorporate my blog name in an imagine so here is to that reader of mine also, enjoy!
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Sad Song Addict - N. Horan Imagine
It had been three weeks since you took up the offer of staying with Willie’s flat with him and Niall. At first, you were hesitant, wondering how Willie’s roommate would feel about your unanticipated stay that could last upwards of eighteen months from predictions of the news. The morning you woke up to the news of airlines shutting down and flights being canceled, you began frantically packing up your things in the hotel room you had booked for the week. But your hope and energy were drained by the end of it due to the current situation and the fact that you gained nearly three hours of tossing and turning on the lumpy mattress you “slept” on last night.
Luckily, Willie lived only minutes from the hotel and was calling you with the proposal of a living situation before you could even zip your suitcase closed. You wanted to decline and kept shaking your head in refusal at each argument Willie came up with: which were very logical and irrefutable. You were stable on your feet financially, but not confident enough to book your stay at a hotel for a year. Additionally, most items you packed to keep you “nourished” were a few granola bars and bottled waters.
It was thirty seconds into Willie’s desperate pleas over the phone for you to come to stay with him when you finally caved. It made you feel lucky, almost, to have a person so close (literally and metaphorically) who cares for you enough to offer their living space and all that is offered to you for as long as necessary.
Now, three weeks of the same guest room, same-colored walls, same sheets, and comforter, the same atmosphere; you had your first breakdown. It was minor and could have been much worse had you not opted for a good cry in the shower and rather tear up your temporary living space. Your breathing was shattered, heartbeat erratic and you’re pretty sure more tears leaked from your eyes than they did from the showerhead above you. You were grateful Willie had left for a quick run to the store for food and whatever cleaning supplies could be scavenged, otherwise you knew he would have heard you.
The beating streams of water trickling down your red face was refreshing, but also a bittersweet method to open up your thoughts. You never realized how much one could take for granted. Specifically, those you saw every day or even every month. You missed being able to walk outside and do the simple tasks you once thought to be mundane: like checking the mail or turning on the sprinklers.
Towards the end of your revelations, you did not hide your smallest whimpers, nor the large sobs which all but heaved out of you. You let them slip because it was the closest you’ve achieved to screaming in a while.
Willie may have been out of the house during this point in the night, but his roommate was not. Niall’s room happened to be right beside the bathroom where your unbridled collapse of emotions had taken place. While he twiddled with the pen and blank pages of a journal, something more peculiar had caught his interest. The sounds of your crying only a room over physically pained Niall to listen to. He yearned to block the noises out, even thought about putting on a pair of headphones to keep your privacy, but the guilt inside of him overrode it.
Labeling your relationship with Niall as “friends” would be a stretch. You would call yourselves acquaintances at most. Ironically, Willie was like a brother to you. But whenever you and Niall visited London concurrently, there were two different parties you would both attend too. Out of the two, Willie was your only mutual friend. Therefore, you and Niall exchanged very few words with one another in past gatherings, maybe shared a pint at the same table. But other than that, you never did cross paths with one another.
Despite you living with him now, it seemed as though nothing had changed. Niall helped you bring your bags to the guest room, gave a less than detailed tour of the home, and accepted they would have to cook for three now. As far as Niall knew, Willie was thrilled to be having another friend to stay with him. While Niall did not seem to mind your figure bustling through his house with suitcases, it was much more pleasant than he let on.
Niall learned to be discreet about his emotions over the years and follow a rule to put it all in the notebook for only his eyes. Secretly, he has always been infatuated with you and would be lying if he said a few certain songs on his previous album were not about you.
You would think that having you here in front of him every day would make this upcoming album an easy write. At least the mushy-gushy songs, Niall thought. But the moment you stumbled through the front door, any idea Niall might have had was pushed to the back of his mind. You were all he could think about, but it seemed impossible to put that in the right string of words since the two of you had become closer.
In a physical sense, that is. Though Niall enjoyed the idea of finally having an intimate conversation with you about whatever, and Willie had persuaded him many times to do so, he lacked the courage. If you were interested you would have come up to him first. At least, that was Niall’s logic. That thought then led him down a rabbit hole of unnecessary thoughts of if you ever thought of him as a friend. What was he going to do if you admitted the likeness was not reciprocated. How was he going to get you to admit it?
The unmistakable sound of the bathroom door creaking open has Niall’s ears perking up. Though he was afraid to know if you felt the same about him, he would feel worse to stand idly by and know you were not your happiest. With a content sigh and a disappointed glance at the still-blank pages before him, Niall heaved himself off of his desk chair and emerged from his bedroom.
Traversing down the hallway until he is facing the guest room door, he begins to regret leaving his own. While his mind was screaming to go back and just ignore whatever urge drove him to stand up in the first place, his knuckles beat him and celebrated with a few steady laps to the door.
“Come in.” Your voice was muffled, but Niall could hear your voice, shaky, and congested from the sadness and snot you tried your best to contain upon exiting the shower. Niall entered the room slowly, as though the floors were lined with fragile antiques he best not knock over. As he glanced up, his eyes drank in the sight of your cheeks, puffy and red as you swiped away below your eyes, trying to rid of any evidence of your earlier emotions.
“Hey,” Niall greeted. He gently waltzed over to your figure, sat with your legs crossed on the bed. “May I?” You gave a small nod to Niall, seconds later having him sitting beside you.
“So…watcha doin’?” Niall tries a lighthearted tone of voice but fails miserably. You had suspicions, as if your blazing cheeks were not obvious enough, that Niall knew very well what you were suffering moments before. But now that he had just confirmed it, your cheeks felt that much warmer.
“You heard me, didn’t you?” There was no point in trying to avoid what both of you knew. After this awkward conversation (wherever it would lead) he would probably go tell Willie, who would sit you down and counsel you without your consent.
“Uh, yeah…I just wanted to check up on ya.” His expression was unchanging with its concern. A few moments of silence passed between you two before a small whisper passed you.
“Yeah.” You nod, meeting his eyes. “Just got a little…homesick. Started thinking. Maybe a little too hard.” You laugh a little. “Listening to sad songs in the shower probably didn’t help, either.” Niall hums in agreement, sparing a smile at you.
“You like sad music?” You scoff at this.
“If there was an AA for sad songs, I’d be their biggest supporter.” Your comment made Niall snort through his remark.
“I’d probably be the president.” His challenging statement earned a light raise of your eyebrows.
“Is that so?” Your hand moves over to retrieve your phone. Upon unlocking it and opening your music library, you offer it to Niall with an outstretched arm. “Take a look.”
He scrolled through your library, eyes widening at some songs or artists he assumed you would never know existed. “Wow…you weren’t kidding.” Niall chuckled, recognizing many of the titles listed on your phone screen. After a few more moments it was handed back to you, who had an accomplished smile gracing her face.
“So, what have you been doing?” Niall shifted slightly on the bed, clearing his throat.
“Writing. Or, I should say trying to.” He rolls his eyes, lips twitching downward to a small frown.
“Having a block?” Niall gives an upsetting shake of his head.
“But from what Willie told me, there’s another songwriter under this roof.” He gives you a sly flick of his blue eyes, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. It was obvious as to what he was hinting, and with how taken you were for the man, “no” was the last answer he would be getting.
“I am. Were you in need of some of my expertise?”
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt…” Niall shrugs, making you giggle lightly.
“Okay, well—”
“Neither would a date.” He cuts in. It takes a few moments for you to digest the words, and you sat in awe.
“A—I’m sorry, I thought you said—”
“A date? Because I did.” The smirk is climbing up on Niall’s face once again, along with a hopeful gleam overtaking his pair of blues.
“I….”
“Will you go out with me?” Lost for words, the only motion you could perform was a frantic nod. Quickly, you reach over to the bedside table and grab your planner, untouched for the last few weeks in exception to the hour you dedicated to canceling plans and rescheduling other activities for the upcoming months.
“Yeah, what day did you have in mi—” Before you could complete your inquiry, a thin piece of paper fell from the current page in your planner. It was not thin enough to be a plain sheet of paper, nor thick enough to be considered a cardstock or a poster. Niall snatched the object to discern it and flipped it over to reveal a photo.
The polaroid you secretly asked Willie to give you nearly a year ago displayed both you and Niall sat beside each other, laughing over something your awful (and very hazy) memory could not remember. Just when you thought your cheeks were remedied by the flowing conversation between you and Niall, you felt the vicious fire rising to taint them once again.
“This was…that was the night we met, wasn’t it?” Niall questions, baring a bit of tooth at your abashed expression, flailing for any excuse to leave this topic of conversation. Quickly, your hand reached out to snatch the polaroid from his grasp, tucking it safely away in your planner.
“Irrelevant.”
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mrcleanheichou · 4 years
Text
Forever and ever chapter 2
When two young people fall in love others often call it puppy love. A love so intense that ultimately fizzles out very quickly. No one believes someone so young could fall for someone so fast and have it be genuine until they see it with their own eyes.
Pairing Cowboy!Jungkook x reader
Genre fluff, angst, eventual smut
Word count 2K
Warnings Mention of a boner
Author’s note soooo long time no see lol I am such a bad fic writer, I literally start a WIP and don’t touch it for months. I have 4 WIPs that I bounce between when i get writer’s block. Slowly but surely I want to start writing consistently so I can get better. So I offer to you my Bangtan cowboy yeehaw fic. I really want to read cowboy fics but there’s barely anything so I decided to be the change I wanted to see in the world and wrote my own.
Here’s chapter 1
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1 week later Jungkook had just finished working on sections of the barbed wire fence with Jimin when he saw his hyung Jin getting the wagon ready. As soon as he put the roll of extra wire and his gloves back in the shed he jogged over to Jin. “Hyung! Are you going to town?”, He asked a little too loud making the horse Jin was hooking up to panic a little. “Hey, hey, hey, you’re ok.”, Jin says trying to get the horse back under control. Once he gets the nervous animal to calm down he looks toward the sweaty young man. “Yeah, I have to go to the market. Do you want to go?”Jungkook said yes a little to excitedly. “Ok, but go wash up. You stink.”
Jungkook hurried to the room he shares with Taehyung in the large ranch house where all seven of the men who work on Bangtan cattle ranch live. 
**~~~~~~~~~** The whole operation is split four ways between the four older men. Namjoon and Yoongi run the majority of everything between Yoongi finding buyers for their livestock and Namjoon negotiating deals. They are both very knowledgeable cattlemen despite being in their mid twenties. They do not let other cattlemen try to dupe them because they think they’re young and gullible. Multiple times meetings have almost come to blows since the older men don’t like being shown up by the quick witted duo. The other partners are Jin and Hoseok. Jin takes care of feeding six very hungry mouths. He is a very good cook and he is also very skilled at fixing leather. He makes money on the side by fixing bridles and saddles for other people. Then there’s Hoseok who used to be a bronco rider on the rodeo circuit and now he uses his skills to break in young horses. Jimin and Taehyung were a couple of trouble makers that would do little odd jobs and play cards to get money to drink and entertain the women at multiple saloons almost every night. They ended up at the same poker table as Yoongi one night 6 years ago. They got to talking and he told them about needing workers on his ranch. Jimin automatically said no. He was very against that idea since he didn’t want to do actual hard labor in the sun. Taehyung was more open to the idea of a consistent pay check. Yoongi made them a bet. They’d play three rounds of ‘7-card-stud’ and if Yoongi beat them at least two times then he’d stop asking. But if he did beat them then they both had to come work for him. They took the bet and obviously Yoongi won. Although Jimin still to this day swears Yoongi cheated. Jungkook’s story is a little different. He made the 50 mile journey to Coyote Creek from his family’s farm after one of many fights he had with his father. When his mother died his father turned to alcohol to drown the pain. He became a monster of a man and resented the fact that Jungkook looked like his mother. The only time an argument turned physical was right before Jungkook ran away. He accidentally burnt the dinner he was making. His father immediately got up and grabbed Jungkook by the shirt and yelled in his face about how useless he was. He told him he regreted ever having him and that he has never loved him. When Jungkook started crying his father slapped him across the face. That was the final straw for Jungkook. As soon as his father was too drunk to even know where he was, he started packing some of his things and stole some money his father’s stash in his closet. He raided the storehouse for as much essential foods that he could reasonably transport and packed it all up onto one of their horses. Taking one final look back at his childhood home, Jungkook finally stopped fighting his tears. He sobbed, allowing himself to mourn the loss of both his mother and father. Once he calmed down he got on his horse and left his old life behind. At the age of 14 Jungkook set off for a better life. It took him  two days to reach the town where he promptly started asking around for a job. Unfortunately no one was interested in hiring him, even for simple jobs. After six days he was out of cash, hungry and desperate. He went to the horse auctions and was going to sell his horse to survive when a man who was wearing an expensive looking black cowboy hat asked him why he looked so sad. Jungkook told him he couldn’t get money any other way and he had no home to return to. The man gave him a sympathetic look and told him to stay where he was. That he’d be right back. A few minutes later he came back with a shorter man in tow. “My name is Namjoon and this is Yoongi.”, the other man tips his hat at Jungkook “I’d like to make you an offer.” Jungkook was about to say thank you when Namjoon cut him off, “But, I don’t want the horse. We’re looking for a new ranch hand and you look like a hard worker. Would you like to come work for us?” Jungkook immediately says yes. “What’s your name kid?” “Jungkook.” “Where are your parents?” Yoongi asked looking concerned. When Jungkook looked down at the ground trying to come up with an answer Yoongi put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” The two men take Jungkook with them to purchase the two horses they came to the auction for. They then head out for the ten mile ride it takes to get back to their ranch. Namjoon notices that Jungkook’s face looks sunburnt so he asks him if he needs a hat. “No, no it’s ok you don’t have to give me anything, I’m fine.” Namjoon pays him no mind as he takes the obviously expensive hat off his head and places it on Jungkook’s. “Every man needs a good hat.” Six years later Jungkook still wears it. **~~~~~~~** Jungkook took his time looking through his clothes. He finally chose a white button up, the pair of jeans he never wears when he does work and his nice town boots. After he washed up and changed he walked back to where Jin was waiting for him. ”You know we’re just going to town for supplies right?” Jin commented looking him up and down while Jungkook climbed onto the wagon next to him. Jin himself was wearing his work overalls that had leather oil on them. “Yeah, I just felt like dressing up that’s all.” Jin just shrugged and snapped the reigns to get the horse to start moving. When they got into town Jungkook immediately looked toward the school and was disappointed when it seemed like no one was there. Dejectedly, Jungkook got off the wagon and followed Jin to the first shop. “Ok, I made a you a list so we can split up and get it done faster”, Jin said handing Jungkook a piece of paper leaving him in front of the farmer’s market. Jungkook sighed and went into the shop that housed fruits and vegetables and opened the door. He grabbed a woven hand basket from the counter and went for the first item on his list. Apples. Not just any apples either, Jin wrote ‘***GOOD APPLES***’ Which caused Jungkook to stand confused in front of all the different types of apples for a few minutes. “What the hell does ‘good apples’ even mean? I thought all apples were good.” “Would you like some help?”, A sweet sounding voice asked. Jungkook looks to the side and almost gasped when he saw who was talking to him. It was the school teacher, she was stunning up close and her eyes were exceptionally beautiful. She smiles at him and he swears he felt his heart skip a beat. “You seem a little out of your element here.” “Y-yeah.”, Jungkook manages to say while trying to not stare at the woman. He doesn’t know why he’s so infatuated with her. He doesn’t even know her. “Do you know what kind of apples you want?” Jungkook feels his face getting hot because, no. Jin just wrote apples and there’s a bunch of different kinds in front of him. “No, my hyung didn’t write down what kind he wanted.” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I’m completely lost.” “That’s ok, can I see your list? Maybe I can try to guess what he’s making and get you the right apples for it.” Jungkook handed her the shopping list and their hands briefly touched causing Jungkook to completely stop breathing. The woman started reading the list and mumbling to herself with a look of concentration. Jungkook thought it was was the cutest thing ever. “Ok! I think he’s gonna be making apple pie because he wrote down; flour, sugar, cinnamon, salt, and butter. But you can’t get that here today. Mr. Lee only comes to town with his milk and butter 3 times a week so you’ll have to come back for that tomorrow. But we can definitely get your ‘Good Apples’ today.”, she giggled and he looked at her in awe. How could someone so lovely actually talk to him. He almost felt unworthy of being in her presence. “Ok so I’m going to be biased and get you the apples I personally think are the best for pie. If your Hyung doesn’t like them then tell me and I’ll give you money for different ones.” she said looking over her shoulder at a nodding Jungkook. “I love these ones. They’re ‘Pink Lady’ apples.”, she says grabbing a small light red apple “They’re Sweet but not too sweet. They make the pie come out much better than green apples and their name sounds classy.” She handed it to Jungkook and started picking out the best apples from the pile. After finding 6 perfect apples she put them in the basket he was carrying. Once again accidentally touching him In the process. Jungkook completely froze, he felt as if he was shocked by electricity. “I can help you with rest of your things” the woman said looking up at the poor awestruck man. “I mean only if you want me to...” she added when Jungkook just stared at her without answering worrying that she might have been intruding. Jungkook just nodded, he couldn’t trust himself to speak without fumbling over his words. The woman smiled and spent the next 30 minutes helping him with the rest of Jin’s list. After Jungkook payed the two made their way to the wagon. “Thank you for helping me. I would have been lost for a long time.” “You’re welcome” the teacher smiled at him brightly. “It was my pleasure. By the way what’s your name Mr apple pie?” “Jungkook” the woman pondered that for a second before extending her hand. “I’m y/n” Jungkook silently hoped she wouldn’t notice how sweaty his hand was. If y/n did she didn’t say anything about it while grasping his calloused hand with her smaller and much softer hand. Jungkook felt ashamed when his thoughts immediately when to a dirty place when he imagined her soft hands touching him somewhere else. Mentally slapping himself he snapped out of it before he, as Jimin liked to call it, popped a boner. “Well, Mr. Jungkook, I’ll see you at the school house bright and early tomorrow” she said while turning to walk away. When y/n was gone Jungkook raised his hand to his face to make sure this was all real. With his luck this would end up being a dream. At least it would has been a really good dream. He must have zoned out for a while because he was startled back to reality by Jin clapping him on the shoulder, “Stop staring into la la land and help me tie everything down.” Jungkook took one last look at his hand, “You were right hyung” ...’love at first sight does exist.’ “I’m always right. I don’t know why you’re barely realizing that now”
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rawritzrobin · 3 years
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Seeing Red Chapter 9
Title: Seeing Red
Master List
Pairing: Jason Todd x Stella Covington (OC)
Warnings: Cursing, major character death, a little bit angsty, fluff.
Summary: Jason wants to stay away, but he can't.
Chapter 9: Progress
Stella woke up alone that morning.
She’s not surprised. She wasn’t really expecting him to stay. She crawls out of bed and grabs her cellphone on her nightstand. 30 missed calls and 40 texts later, Stella convinces the Bat family that she is alive and well. She puts down her phone and heads to the kitchen. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was already 1pm. As soon as she reaches the living room, she is greeted by a happy Latte inside his cage. He jumps up up onto the fence to greet her, tail wagging. She opens the cage door to let him out.
“Good morning my love. Are you hungry?” She makes her way towards his food bowl and to her surprise, it’s full. No one else is allowed on her floor so it had to have been Jason who fed him.
Stella wonders if Jason actually got any sleep last night.
She notices a flash of red on the kitchen counter. Tilting her head in confusion, she walks towards the pile of red and green and is slightly taken aback when she sees what it is; a bouquet of red roses sat on her kitchen counter. She picks up the note attached to the bow and reads it.
Thank you.
She smiles down at the note. How he had time to pick up flowers and sneak out without waking her was beyond her comprehension. She picks up the roses and brings them close to her chest.
She looks up at the calendar and thanks god that her semester had just ended. She knew she was in for a few interesting months.
———————
Stella kept radio silence for the next few weeks. She didn’t feel the need to visit the manor anymore seeing how the only reason she visited everyday wasn’t there anymore. She ignored all their texts, calls, and even rejected their in person visits. She needed a break from Bats.
Well, certain bats.
Jason has been MIA since. Ever since that fateful night, the Red Hood had vanished as well. It hurt knowing that Jason was still out there. Was he still in Gotham? Did he have a place to stay? Did he go back to get his hand checked? These were questions Stella asked herself every day. She kept a lookout for news on The Red Hood. So far there have been no musings.
Stella did know one thing though: Jason was alive.
At that moment in time, it was all that mattered.
Stella moved on and tried her best to keep herself pre-occupied. A few weeks past and still no sign of Jason. Although, some nights Latte would run up to the windows of Stellas home and stare outside. He would stare for hours at a time sometimes, almost as if there was something familiar out there.
Or someone.
One day, Stella was absentmindedly listening to the radio on her way home from dinner with her Father, when a few words caught her attention.
“A red hooded man was seen fleeing the scene of the crime. Authorities are still not sure if the masked man was apart of the drug bust or the one who busted them. They can say for sure that a large part of Two-Face’s gang has been found at the scene of the crime and are now in police custody.”
She smiles at the broadcast and continues to go on with her day.
———————
Stella kept her balcony door unlocked most nights. Deep down inside, she hoped he would stop by. Plus, she was so high up she was never in any real danger.
One night, after a full day of shopping and girl time with Caitlyn, Stella returns to home exhausted and ready to jump into bed. When the elevator doors open and she feels the familiar breeze of Gotham hit her, she drops her shopping bags down by her feet and unleashes Latte. In an instant, he runs towards her balcony, barking away.
By the time Stella gets to the balcony, Jason already had Latte in his arms. Latte was wagging his tail and licking his face as if Jason was someone he saw on the regular. He was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. He looks up at her innocently. He had taken off his helmet and mask. Both items sat on the table in front of him. Jason scratches Latte behind the ear and the happy pup rolls onto his belly to allow Jason to pet his belly. She smiles at the sight in front of her.
Taking a closer look, Stella notices a bit of red coming through the side of his torso.
“Jay, you’re hurt.” She says bending over so she could take a closer look.
Jason looks down at his stomach and looks back at Stella.
“Yeah. One of Penguin’s men grazed me with a bullet. I’m fine.”
She shakes her head. “No, come here. We have to clean it and bandage it up before you get an infection or something.” She grabs his arm and pulls him to his feet. Jason doesn’t resist, and follows her to the kitchen where she sits him down on a stool. Latte dances in circles around him as Stella disappears inside the bathroom to grab her first aid kit.
Jason strips off his jacket, wincing when he moves to take off his left arm. He glances down at his wound and curses. The goon may have missed, but the bullet graze was pretty deep. It was one of the reasons he was here. He could’ve patched the wound up at his safe house, but something in him told him to come here instead.
Once Stella was back with the first aid kit, she motions for Jason to take off his chest armor and gear. She winced when she saw how deep the bullet wound really was. She starts by cleaning the wound with antiseptic.
“You know, I’m not a trained professional. I bet Alfred would do a better job.”
Jason frowned at her comment. He looked down at her, carefully wiping antiseptic onto his wound, careful not to press too hard. The look of pure concentration on her face. His heart skipped a beat as he thought about the real reason he was here and not back at his safe house cleaning the wound himself.
But I wanted to see you, he wanted to say. But when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.
Once she was done, Jason put his armor back on once more. He looked at the clock on the microwave and noticed it was still early. Stella notices his gaze.
“C-can you stay?” She asked quietly.
Jason’s gaze fixes on her. He sees the hesitation in her face.
He wanted to say yes, but he knew he couldn’t.
“Not tonight doll.” He said as he grabs his jacket and pulls it over his shoulders. He makes his way towards the balcony, and Stella follows. She leans against the doorway and watches as he puts on his mask and helmet. He turns back to her sadly.
“Maybe next time?” She said hopefully.
Jason nods and waves before hopping off the side of the building. His red hood quickly disappearing into the night.
———————
Jasons stopped by more often. At first he would show up only when he needed medical attention, but his visits became more frequent. He tried to stay away, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t.
He was never good at resisting her.
Most of the time he would show up covered in blood, and while it usually wasn’t his, it was something Stella had to get used to seeing. She didn’t mind, the smell of blood and cigarets soon started to become soothing.
Because it usually meant Jason was there.
A few months in, Jason started staying over.
The first night was by accident. He had fallen asleep on the couch while Stella was tending to a small stab wound on his shoulder. He woke up wrapped in a thick furry blanket and a tiny Latte licking his face.
On a particularly late night, Jason found Stella already asleep on the couch, probably waiting to see if he would show up or not. He carried her into bed. Just as he was about to tuck her in and leave, Stella’s eyes blinked open and she muttered one simple word.
“Stay?”
Jason looks down at her and nods. The smile she gave him filled his body with warmth and love. That night they fell asleep curled in each others arms.
It was the best sleep Jason had in ages.
Stella woke up to find Jason still in her bed that morning. She ordered them breakfast and they ate breakfast in bed before he took off.
Jason started coming by every night from then on.
Sometimes, he would stay the entire night. Others, he would leave before she woke up. But regardless of how the morning would be, the nights would all be the same. Stella always waited up for him. Some nights, patrol would be longer than usual and she would be in bed by the time he got there. Those nights were her favorite. Because she always woke up with his arms around her.
Jason always stayed for breakfast after late nights.
Some nights, Jason would come by after a slow night and they would spend the night hanging out. They would watch movies, order takeout, and talk.
—————————
One night Jason opened up out of nowhere as Stella was patching up a small knife wound on his knee.
“The pit.” He starts.
“When I woke up, my skin burned. I-I couldn’t breath. My body hurt everywhere. I wanted to die again that night.”
Stella looks at him sadly. Not saying anything. The look in her eyes told him that she was listening.
“I didn’t know where I was. Talia was the first person I saw that day. She promised that the pain would go away. All of it. The physical and mental.”
Stella finishes bandaging up his knee and sits next to him on the couch. She places a gentle touch on his arm. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“I believed her.” He said, eyes starting to water. “But the pain never went away. It only increased as my anger towards Bruce intensified.”
He paused. Taking a deep breath before continuing.
“I don’t know if the pain will ever stop.”
Stella froze. She looked up at him not sure what to do. She placed her arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. He leaned into it and she could hear him sob softly. He presses himself closer to her chest as her grip around him tightens.
“I just want the pain to stop.” He says between sobs.
Stella’s eyes begin to water. She strokes his hair gently and starts to whisper calming words into his hair. “It’s okay Jay. I’m here. I’ll always be here. I don’t know if I can stop the pain. But I can help numb it.”
Jason’s cries until he falls asleep in her arms. That night, Stella held him in her arms on her couch, and stroked his hair until sleep claimed her too.
—————————— After that particular night, Jason opened up even more. He told his story in pieces, leaving the ones that brought him the most pain for last. Stella never pushed him for more. She was always ready to take what he was ready to give.
Stella never shared any of this with Dick or any of the Bat family in fact. For all they knew, Stella and Jason cut ties the night they met. Stella dropped by the manor once since then. Only to see Alfred. She made sure Bruce was away the day she showed up.
She didn’t stay long.
That night, Jason’s patrol ended early and they spent the night watching rom coms while eating Chinese food.
Things were, comfortable.
Familiar.
And sometimes, painful.
But Stella finally had Jason back in her life, and for now, that was all she needed.
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The Last Dragon | The Witcher & Game of Thrones
Chapter 2 | A New Life
Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.
Note: Here’s chapter 2! Thanks for all your comments and love. I was kind of shocked at how many people would want to read this so thank you! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this story. P.S: Find the season 8 reference 
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Slowly, Visenya’s eyes open, her vision hazy and muddled as she’s stuck in between distant dreams and the waking world. One blink, two blinks, three blinks. The room is much brighter than the darkness in sleep, her heavy eyes begging her to succumb to it once more, if only for five more minutes. Sunlight floods in through the window, cleansing away the darkness and the nightmares that come with it. The bed beneath her is lumpy and uncomfortable, leaving much to be desired in terms of comfort. The distant shouts of patrons in the tavern below only slightly muffled. Due to the thin walls, it sounds as if someone is screaming from behind Visenya’s door rather than from the floor below. A low grunt leaves her mouth, head pounding like a drum. Pain faintly shoots through her jaw as she slowly unclenches it. A loud pop echoes in the small room, Visenya’s arms stretching towards the ceiling. Lying in bed for a moment longer, she stares at the ceiling with a blank mind.
A year.
It’s been exactly a year since she showed up here. And despite that, she’s never grown used to it. A piece of Visenya still believes that this is all an elaborate dream. Perhaps she’ll wake up and be back in camp, fighting a losing war. Or maybe she’ll be in Winterfell, tucked away in her bed as she huddled under her furs to keep away the cold. All the Starks will be alive and well, and Visenya can laugh with them over breakfast as she chases away the bizarre and dark nightmare.
But the other half of her knows that idea to be false, nothing but a fantasy that’s just out of her grasp. This is real, and so are the actions that led to her showing up in Blaviken. She can still see it too, in the depths of her mind. The last image of Robb burned in her head as his body was paraded around the burning camp, his head cut off and replaced with Greywind’s. The unspoken apologies bubbling out of Visenya’s mouth, all the words she never got to say to him and never will.
No, this is all real. And the sooner Visenya accepts that the sooner she can move on with her life.
She just hasn’t learned how to.
A crash from below and a slew of muffled curses bring Visenya out of her thoughts. Metaphorically and physically, Visenya shakes her head in an attempt to clear away the lingering melancholy. With a heavy sigh and the popping sound of bones cracking, Visenya pulls herself out of the bed, throwing aside the thin, itchy blanket. The cool wooden flooring on her feet is a stark but welcome contrast to her warm temperature. With the grace of a drunkard, she stagers over to the small dresser shoved in the corner of her room. In the process, she tosses off her old nightgown and trades it for a simple blue dress. She haphazardly tosses it on, unbothered by any wrinkles. It’s one of the few dresses she owns. She managed to sew it - after many pricked fingers and a storm of curse words. She received the fabric from the local tailor. One of the local men was harassing the tailor and Visenya offered to get him off her hands in exchange for some fabric. Needless to say, the man - who turned out to be usual at the tavern - had a beautiful black eye for a solid week. It’s a win-win for Visenya; she gets free fabric and the men think twice about harassing her.
If they’re smart, that is.
She still owns all the things she brought with her from Westeros. Her clothes and sword were cleaned, various holes patched until they appeared brand new and her sword shined brilliantly. Her clothes lie in a chest, carefully folded and tucked under her small bed. The sword lies beside it in its sheath waiting to be used once more. Visenya had been unable to get rid of the items but couldn’t bear to look at them. So they’re neatly tucked away, collecting dust as Visenya pretends they don’t exist.
Some nights, when riddled with melancholy and sorrow she’ll pull out the chest and unsheath her blade. The fine dress, embroidered with small flowers and details of silk alongside the deep blue cloak adorned with a fierce dragon and a proud direwolf gets drenched in salty tears. Sobs tear through the silence of the room, echoing in Visenya’s mind until it’s the only thing she can focus on, blocking out the sounds of screams from that night. She’d trace her sword, feeling the dragon on the hilt beneath her fingertips. It was both a source of pain and strength for her. It reminds her of what she lost in Westeros but it also reminded her of who she is - what she is. A dragon; and a dragon is unbothered by the sheep.
With a halfhearted ruffle of her tangled hair, the previously silver locks now dyed a mud brown. In fear of sounding vain, she hates the color. The golden - silver locks were always her pride and joy. It was soft as silk and shined like fine jewels, reflecting beautifully in the sun as it glittered like gold. The light bouncing off the alabaster snow made her glow. Sansa used to adore braiding her hair, styling it in southern braids. Now it was dry, tangled, and dull; never styled in the intricate braids she used to wear.  
But the dye is a necessary evil. Despite not being in Westeros - or anywhere near it - silver hair isn’t a natural color for women her age. And the people in Blaviken don’t take kindly to anything different. So, in an attempt to not garner any attention to herself, silver became brown. And with each application of the dye, Visenya feels a piece of her old self being chipped away, whittling away until there isn’t much left.
Another crash.
She turns around, another sigh escaping her mouth. She moves towards the door, swinging it open as she moves down the hall. It is bare and empty, with no patrons stumbling out of their room blindly. Her room is the closest to the stairs, often hindering Visenya from getting a restful sleep if the tavern below is in full swing. The floorboards creak beneath the weight of her, the sounds lining up with each breath she takes.
Every day is a challenge to keep her head down and mouth shut. The patrons are rowdy and crude, many of them before even having a drop of ale in their systems. Insults would hang at the tip of her tongue, thrashing at the patrons like an angry serpent, ready to land a deadly strike. Her palms covered in crescent-shaped scars from clenching her fists for so long. And sometimes she’d let go and allow her temper to flare and get the best of her. But the risk is never worth the reward, and Aldred has proven to not be a kind boss.
So with a deep breath, Visenya steps down the last set of stairs and sets off towards the bar. The scent of stale alcohol and farm animals mingling with the aroma of food hits Visenya’s senses, causing her nose to wrinkle in disgust.
“There you are! Took you long enough to get down here.” Aldred, the innkeeper loudly exclaims upon seeing Visenya. She mutters a quiet sorry as he shoves a tray of drinks in her hands. “Quit your apologizing girl. Just take these drinks to that table.” He motions over to a rowdy group of men, all donning dyed red leathers. A group of bandits - or mercenaries, Visenya doesn’t care to find out. They came in last night with a woman named Renfri, and haven’t shut up since. She manages to balance the tray in her hands and takes over to their table, dropping it with a thud.
“Enjoy.” she sarcastically mutters, already moving away before any of them have a chance to speak. A scowl automatically places itself on her face as she begins another day of work.
“Do you ever smile Jane?” Isadora, another one of the serving girls says as she passes by to bring another table their drinks. She’s kind enough but the biggest gossip in this backwater town. You can count on anything you say to her being passed around Blaviken within the next hour.    
“Only when bathing in the blood of my enemies,” she mutters to herself, quiet enough that no one should hear. The small chuckle that leaves a woman Visenya was passing, Renfri, told her she was unsuccessful. Visenya pauses to give the woman a quick glance before moving back to the bar, where Aldred already had another round of ale ready for a different table. She picks up the serving tray, careful to not spill the drinks ontop.
“You always so grim?” Renfri asks Visenya as she walks past her to serve a table. This time Visenya doesn’t pause but does answer the woman.
“Only when my heart beats,” she nonchalantly says in a deadpan tone. She hears Renfri stifling another laugh, but if she said anything else, Visenya didn’t hear.
“Here ya go boys,” she mutters, once again dropping the drinks carelessly on the table. Some of it splashes out of the cups and creates small puddles. A few of the men scowl at her as they grab their respective drinks.
“You always do have the most lovely smile Jane.” one of the men pipes up. Jerald, he’s here far too often and spends too much coin. It doesn’t help that he also smells like he’s never been introduced to bathing. Then again, that is most of the people in this town, Visenya has unfortunately discovered. Jerald, feeling brave from the copious ale he’s already consumed, reaches a hand out to grab Visenya. The anger bubbling under the surface of Visenya snaps, the fire inside her flaring to life. With the speed and ferocity of a roaring fire, she grips his hand that rests on her arm.
Without a moment of hesitation, she bends his wrist back until the back of his hand hits the table surface. He lets out a strangled cry of pain as she holds his hand in an uncomfortable position. The men around them let out various cries of surprise but do nothing else. The previously jovial atmosphere in the tavern dissipates, silence smothering the room as everyone stares at their table. She tightens her grip on his wrist, bending down until her face is a few centimeters away from his. Like a snarling wolf, she bares her teeth at him.
“Touch me again, and I’ll show you something far nicer,” Visenya said, a threat thinly veiled in her words. His eyes stare at her, closely resembling a spooked deer, fear speckled in his gaze. She holds him there a moment longer before releasing his arm. Without another word she swiftly moves back to the bar. Multiple pairs of eyes continue to follow Visenya as the atmosphere slowly returns, the chatter in the room picking up. And by the time she reaches the bar, the only two pairs of eyes on her, Aldred and Renfri. Aldred’s beady eyes follow her, a scowl resting on his face while Renfri watches her with a critical eye mingled with a look of approval.
“They always like that?” Renfri asks her, casually leaning again the bar counter, nonchalantly tossing pieces of her breakfast in her mouth. She lazily watches Visenya circle around the bar until she stands across from Renfri. Visenya’s gaze moves from the counter to meet Renfri’s. They quietly watch each other, Renfri waiting for an answer, and Visenya contemplating giving an answer.  
“All men are the same when they’ve got ale in them.” Visenya smoothly replies, breaking the silence and ending their stare-off. She grabs another cup and fills it to the brim with ale, sliding it over to Renfri. The woman merely raises an eyebrow at Visenya before tipping the cup up towards her mouth. Visenya watches as she finishes the ale so fast she could’ve given Robert Baratheon a run for his money. She slams the cup down, wiping away any residual ale on her face. Visenya says nothing, opting to begin eating an assortment of meats, cheese, and bread.
“Renfri.” she simply says, holding a hand out to Visenya.
“I know,” Visenya says, placing her hand in Renfri’s. “Jane.”
“I know.” Renfri mimics, giving her a teasing smirk. Visenya returns the gesture. She takes a moment to get a good look at Renfri. Shoulder length brown hair that’s almost as messy and unkempt as her own; a red blouse - matching the red leathers of her band of men; and a rather large brooch of a sword going through a circle with glittering gems on it.
“Nice broach.” Visenya simply says, removing her hand from Renfri’s grip.
“I think so too, it’s why I have it.” she smugly says. Visenya simply snorts with a snarky retort on the tip of her tongue, when they’re interrupted.
“You stupid girl, the fuck you think you’re doing? Get back to work!” Aldred bellows as he moves towards the bar, gathering the attention of any nearby patrons. “I swear you’re more trouble than you’re worth, Jerald and the boys said you attacked him again,” he sneers, resembling a boar preparing to attack. Visenya subtly rolls her eyes, eliciting a snarky smirk from Renfri. Aldred always did have a way with words.
She grabs two plates of food, probably prepared by Isadora. Without glancing in his direction she glides past Aldred, taking them to their respective tables. She drops the plates on the table. Without waiting for either of them to speak, Visenya turns back to leave. Before she can get back to the bar, the tavern door swings open. A large figure donning a cloak enters the tavern with heavy footsteps, his hood concealing most of his face. But Visenya manages to get a decent look at him before he moves from view. Sculpted face, piercing amber eyes, and snow-white hair. He quickly approaches the counter, where Isadora currently is. Visenya’s too far to hear what’s being said, but the pair are quickly interrupted when Aldred swiftly approaches them His face is nearly red with anger, making Isadora immediately move away from the two. At this point, everyone in the tavern has gone dead silent. Visenya moves closer in an attempt to better hear the conversation. One of the men with Renfri had already stood up, venomously shouting something at the stranger.
“Go; on your own or at the end of a rope. Your choice.” Aldred spits at the man, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s trying to appear intimidating, but the man before him is easily twice his side. Plus, Visenya doubts Aldred could overpower a half-dead chicken.
“Not a hard choice.” the man replies in a smooth voice. He turns to face the man that had spoken to him earlier. Visenya continues to move closer until she’s nearly behind the counter.
“Fuck that, kill him with your bare hands if ya have to,” Aldred says. After he says this, the rest of the men in red leather stand up, getting into a defensive stance. Visenya silently rolls her eyes at the situation. As far as she’s concerned the man hasn’t done anything wrong, and now they’re threatening to kill him. She carelessly glides behind the counter, trying to distract herself from the current tension.
“Probably why business isn’t so great,” Visenya mutters to herself, starting to pour another cup of ale, ready for this mess to be done with. She can feel the flames slowly building as her temper does - the same way it did the night she died. If they didn’t stop this nonsense, Visenya imagined she would be the one doing the killing and not on her own volition. Though the only thing she’d be mourning here is free room and board.
“Come on Witcher, you’re not scared of us are ya?” he asks in a mocking tone. A few of his men begin to step up beside him. The stranger just continues to stare at them. “Show us what ya got.” he goads, obviously looking for a fight.
“Can you not leave it alone for a moment?” Renfri interrupts, dramatically turning to face the group, throwing her food back onto her plate.
“Witchers can’t be trusted,” Aldred says through his gritted teeth.
“I’m not speaking to you,” Renfri says, not bothering to look at Aldred. “I apologize for my man’s interference in your day.” Renfri continues, nodding at the stranger whose back was turned to her. “Hopefully he can improve his behavior by tomorrow’s market.” Renfri finishes, her tone implying the words had a deeper meaning. The stranger and the man in red leather continue staring tensely at each other before he speaks up.
“Sorry Renfri.” he simply says, still staring at the stranger before swiftly turning back to his table.
“Beer for my friend and one for me,” Renfri calls out to Aldred, turning back to the counter to finish her food. Aldred simply huffs and crosses his arms, staring down the stranger - resembling a petulant child. “I am speaking to you now, good sir!” Renfri calls out to Aldred louder, slightly leaning against the bar. The stranger, who now faces the counter pulls down his hood, revealing tangled white hair that goes below his shoulders. His current position also lets her see his black studded leather armor and a wolf pendant that hangs from his neck. Visenya, who’d been at the counter pouring drinks into cups, without looking to Aldred for confirmation, simply slides two drinks their way. One for Renfri and one for the stranger. Aldred glares daggers at Visenya, but she can’t pretend to be bothered. With the tension in the room slowly easing, so is the fire that was bubbling inside of her. Something Visenya is grateful for. Renfri simply gives Visenya a nod and turns to the stranger. He also nods his head in acknowledgment of her but does nothing further.
She moves to grab a cup of ale that Aldred had loudly slammed on the counter, his intention to get Visenya’s attention. As she grabs the mug he harshly glares at her but says nothing as she moves past him. The volume in the room has returned, but the tension is still there. Everyone seems to be uncomfortable with the presence of the stranger.
“Jane! Another round if you will!” Renfri calls to her as Visenya was making her way back to the counter. As she passes Aldred who was still standing in the same position as earlier, she gives him a sickly sweet smile. The smile that was only reserved for arrogant Lords that visited Winterfell and Robert Baratheon, when he came to ask Lord Stark to be his Hand. On her way past him, she grabs a pitcher of ale. As she moves around the counter, she replaces Renfri’s cup with the pitcher.
“We both know you’re going to drink it all. Might as well cut the middle man.” Visenya teasingly tells Renfri. Renfri gives Visenya a sly smile, but it doesn’t match the broody expression on her face. She picks up the jug and moves towards the stranger.
“More and more monsters wherever I go,” she says, her tone sounding defeated, before leaving the tavern. Visenya watches her for a moment before turning her gaze to the stranger, who she now stood before. Even sitting down he was still taller than her. His gaze moved from Renfri to Visenya. His expression is unreadable, not sure what to expect from her.
“Jane.” she simply says. The stranger raises a dark eyebrow at her. Strange, it doesn’t match his head. “That’s my name.” she finishes. He gives her a gruff ‘Hmm’ before taking another drink of his ale. “This is normally the part where you tell the other person your name.” Visenya quips.
“Geralt of Rivia,” he answers after finishing his drink. Visenya nods in satisfaction.
“You made quite a stir coming in here,” Visenya says, already pouring him another drink.
“It happens,” he replies shortly.
“It must be the hair.” Visenya sarcastically quips. Geralt quietly chuckles.
“Must be,” he replies, his voice gravelly and rough. She opens her mouth to respond with something witty when they’re interrupted.
“How much coin for you kikimora then.” Marilka, the alderman’s daughter, interrupts, leaning against the counter beside Geralt.
~
Tags: @queenmendes ; @losers-club6 ; @demigoddesofchimichangagod ; @power-of-words23 ; @winter-moons ; @madamwhisper ; @toribentleyva ;  @comicbeginning ; @naughty-koala07 ; @im-a-muggleborn ; @belgiantrash ; @mikariell95 ; @ayamenimthiriel​
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servinglemonade · 3 years
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HAMILTON ON DISNEY+
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BEWARE: SPOILERS AHEAD FOR HAMILTON ON DISNEY+
Hi everyone! I’m back with a very exciting post that I thought I would not be writing for a very long time. My review of the filmed Hamilton Production on Broadway with the OBC!! After the unexpected announcement that the Hamilton film would find it’s home on Disney+ instead of being released in theaters in 2021, I was ecstatic. I could not believe it! I have been listening to the album with the OBC for years now. I never get tired of it, it always puts a smile on my face and the occasional comfort whenever I need it. I have watched Hamilton four times now and I just love it so much. So let’s go...
Overall reaction
Even after watching four times now, my reaction is still the same. I truly believe that it is a brilliant masterpiece. That is high praise for sure, but Hamilton deserves it. I will never forget experiencing it for the first time on July 3rd. I was blown away and could not take my eyes off the screen. It was exhilarating to finally see this, after listening to it for years. It is the little details that you do not get to experience when listening to the album that I loved the most. So overall, I was blown away by it and exceeded all of my expectations.
Film 
I have never seen a filmed stage musical, so I do not have a reference. However, I thought this was beautifully filmed. It showed the whole stage when it was needed and zoomed in on the actors when necessary. It was an intimate experience. You get the best seat in the house, so to speak.
Cast
I already knew the cast was phenomenal due to listening to the cast album. Seeing them perform all the songs was even better than I expected! Here is an itemized list (hehe) of all the cast members, because they all deserve a chance to shine! Special shout-out to all the ensemble members, without them the show would just not be complete!
Lin-Manuel Miranda as Alexander Hamilton Favorite performance: Hurricane (so beautifully staged!!)
The man, the myth, the legend! I am a huge fan of Lin and his work (even beyond Hamilton)! I thought his Hamilton was great and very funny at times. The emotion in his performance was really good! Lin wrote this whole thing!! It all came from his mind, which is incredible in and of itself. 
Phillipa Soo as Eliza Hamilton Favorite performance: Burn (iconic)
Phillipa is so talented. She has an amazing voice and pair that with her amazing performance and it is practically perfect. Her acting and singing during the final song, Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story, was so emotional. It had me crying all the three times I have seen it. 
Leslie Odom Jr. as Aaron Burr Favorite performance: Wait For It (this is one of the songs that made me a Hamilton fan)
Leslie Odom Jr. is one of the most talented people ever. He is so amazing on that stage. Everybody always said that The Room Where It Happens is a true masterpiece and I always liked the song, but it was not my favorite. Seeing Leslie and the Ensemble cast perform it, WOW! Incredible. Leslie is the perfect Burr and had me crying and laughing many times.
Renée Elise Goldsberry as Angelica Schuyler Favorite performance: Satisfied (what else?!)
I always found Renée’s voice so damn powerful in Satisfied, which made me love the song more. Seeing Satisfied performed was magical and I will never get over how amazing that song is and how perfect Renée performs it. She is a true powerhouse whenever she shows up and confirmed that Angelica is one of my favorites in the show.
Daveed Diggs as Marquis de Lafayette/Thomas Jefferson Favorite performance: What’d I Miss (this was hard)
Daveed Diggs. Daveed Diggs. Daveed Diggs. Oh my gosh, he was even more perfect than I thought. Daveed is one of the cast members everyone always raved about and now I know why! If I had to describe his performance, I would say it is electric. He just immediately captures your attention. For both Lafayette and Jefferson!  
Christopher Jackson as George Washington Favorite performance: One Last Time (this was so powerful)
The first time Chris emerges on the stage as Washington, you are just immediately drawn to him (at least I was haha). He just has a very powerful presence. Especially in Right Hand Man, his entrance is EVERYTHING! History Has Its Eyes On You has always been one of my favorites on the soundtrack and it was even better seeing it. However, his moment is One Last Time. It is truly a defining moment of the entire show.
Okieriete “Oak” Onaodowan as Hercules Mulligan/James Madison Favorite performance: Yorktown (his part is so good)
Oak has some fantastic moments in the show! His Hercules Mulligan is so great and full of energy. As I said, his part in Yorktown gets me so hyped! I loved James Madison’s parts with Jefferson, they had awesome energy together. Another fave Madison line is in The Election of 1800. The first line is Jefferson saying if they can get back to Politics since a lot of drama and sad stuff happened in the past few songs and Madison is like uhh, please with a soft voice because he has been crying. So funny and relatable!
Anthony Ramos as John Laurens/Philip Hamilton Favorite Performance: Blow Us All Away (funny in the beginning and ends so sadly)
I enjoyed Anthony Ramos’ performance quite a bit! He was great in conveying emotions as both Laurens and Phillip, with both roles having quite emotional endings. I was shocked to find out there was a part just before Non-Stop that showed Hamilton learning about Laurens’ death, that was so sad and Anthony Ramos did it so beautifully. I was very impressed by him and I cannot wait to see him in In The Heights!
Jasmine Cephas Jones as Peggy Schuyler/Maria Reynolds Favorite performance: Say No To This (her vocals are so great here)
Peggy and Maria might not be the biggest roles in the show but Jasmine slays in both of them! Especially as Maria, her vocals in Say No To This are even better than on the cast album. She was amazing!
Jonathan Groff as King George III Favorite performance: I Know Him (Jonathan’s performance makes this song work so well)
Jonathan was funny on the album but when you see the performance with it, it just completes it! He was phenomenal, and I loved that he showed up during some other songs as well, for example in The Reynolds Pamphlet, absolutely hilarious! I also enjoyed his little announcement at the beginning, where he said Enjoy MY show, that was a neat thing to include here!
Favorite Musical Numbers
Okay, so these are all my favorite performance, taking into consideration the song itself, staging, choreography, and production. I love how seeing the show made me love songs that were not my favorites before! So here they are in a non-particular order:
My Shot 
So powerful, I think I almost jumped off the couch at the end because I was so hyped!
The Schuyler Sister
Even better than I thought it would be! From the use of the rotating stage, the performances, and choreography.
Farmer Refuted
This was the one song I always skipped on the album, however, seeing it here makes me lol every time! It’s great.
You’ll Be Back, What Comes Next?, and I Know Him
Give me all the King George content, soooo funny, I just love these moments in the show!
Helpless and Satisfied
Satisfied is still my favorite of the two, however it was breathtaking seeing how well the two are connected. Especially Satisfied, first the toast, then rewinding to see Helpless from Angelica’s perspective, and lastly coming back to the toast. I just thought it was stunning to see! The staging here is phenomenal.
Wait For It
The song that made me love Hamilton. Seeing Leslie performing it, made me love it, even more. He is so talented and amazing here. I had goosebumps. Even though the staging and production for this number are simple, it just makes it even better because you can just focus on Burr!
Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)
Every time I watch it and Yorktown ends, I always shake my head in awe. It such a powerful moment in the show and it just makes me very hyped (especially Mulligan’s part). SO good.
Non-Stop
I know I keep talking about how great the staging is, but I feel like the staging from Satisfied, Non-Stop, and another one is the best ones in the show. The ending of Non-Stop on the stage with all the characters standing above Hamilton, stairs being moved from one side to the other all so seamlessly... *chef���s kiss*
Cabinet Battle #1 and #2
The energy between Hamilton and Jefferson here is so good, and I love they look into the audience and make them a part of it. Lin and Daveed just nail these songs!
The Room Where It Happens
Two things: LESLIE and THE CHOREOGRAPHY. That is all.
Washington On Your Side
I just really started loving this song after seeing the show. I also loved the beginning of the song where Burr joins Jefferson on stage, starts singing and Jefferson is just standing there confused thinking: “Where did you come from all of a sudden?” This is Chris’ moment in the show, he just conveys so much emotion in every line. 
One Last Time
This is Chris’ moment in the show, he just conveys so much emotion in every line. 
Hurricane
I just love this song and the use of the rotating stage here is excellent, same goes for the lighting.
The World Was Wide Enough
Seeing this for the first time was so emotional, the part where only Lin is singing and you onlyhear his voice... Pfff, amazing! Also how Leslie ends the song, WOW! 
Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story
The way I sobbed during this... I just thought it was a beautiful ending for the show itself.
Okay, that was a long one! But I love talking about Hamilton and if you read the whole post, I guess you like reading about it! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! What were your favorite moments from the show?
Have a festive day and stay safe! 
XO 
Yenai
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chickensarentcheap · 4 years
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Best Part of Me -Chapter 86
Warnings: none
Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip​
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Three hours seem like thirty. She feels numb; both body and brain simply running on autopilot. Head swimming with a multitude of emotions, yet incapable of showing or expressing a single one. Limbs feeling impossibly heavy.  Too much energy expected and expended with even the simplest of movements; gnawing on a thumb mail or twirling a strand of hair around her index finger, or tucking loose strands behind her ears. She’s tired; already worn out from the bombardment upon her earlier arrival at the hospital. Updates given by both emergency room staff, the radiologist, and a team of surgeons; presented with the best and worst case scenarios for short and long term progress, difficult decisions having to be made on the spot because there was no time to waste. Consent forms and insurance and financial matters that had to  be discussed, legal issues that her already overwhelmed mind couldn’t fully comprehend.
She hasn’t had time to think; no spare moment to focus on exactly WHAT she’s feeling. Knowing that just under the surface lingered tremendous worry and all consuming fear and an imminent panic attack, yet never actually succumbing to any -of all- of those things. She can feel the tsunami of tears that continue to grow and strengthen, the dull ache of sorrow and grief that sit heavily on her chest, the lump of emotion that is lodged in her throat.  Yet she’s seemingly incapable of letting any of those things out, and instead has done little more than sit in a cramped and uncomfortable chair in the crowded OR waiting room. Passing the time by repeatedly counting the tiles on the drop ceiling or staring at her feet as she continuously brushes the toes of her runners against the highly polished floor.
When she’d first arrived she’d been met by the CEO of the hospital -Anil’s friend who had visited the house just the night before- and he’d offered not only his most skilled and revered physicians and surgeons, but  one of the private meeting rooms genuinely used by families with a loved one on death’s door. And while she’d initially accepted and had appreciated the spacious -and surprisingly bright and cheerful, given the circumstances the room is used for- area and the comfortable furniture, she’d lasted all of ten minutes when left to her own devices. Once Koen and Rata left to tend to the things at the safe house and the hotel they’d initially been staying at, she’d quickly gone stir crazy. The silence and the stillness unbearable; each tick of the clock on the wall seeming impossibly loud and grating. She can’t remember the last time she’d been subjected to that level of quiet. She’s spent six and a half years surrounded by noise; crying and babbling babies, children laughing and playing and squabbling, a husband that blares his music while working out and is always finding some kind of noisy home or land reno project to keep himself busy with. She’s become so accustomed to continuous noise that everything seems alien now; unfamiliar and uncomfortable and anxiety inducing.
She’d retreated to one of several OR waiting areas. Oddly comforted by the cramped surroundings and the conversations carrying out in Bengali and broken English.  It didn’t matter that these were strangers; everyone in the room in a similar boat. Some silent, some quietly praying, others gathered in small groups as they anxiously await news on a loved one. The noise and the smells are strangely soothing; the hum of chit chat and the scent of cafeteria coffee. She tries not to make eye contact despite the curious stares and the odd whisper; occasionally catching glimpse of sympathetic smiles throw her way. Normally she’s social and chatty, even under the most stressful of situations.  But now she’s afraid to open her mouth. Scared that if she looks at someone and sees sadness or pity in their eyes or they try to engage her in kind yet curious conversation, she’ll lose it. That a simple act of compassion will have her throwing her arms around a complete stranger and sobbing into their shoulder.
That’s not where she needs to be right now. Giving in to the immense fear and all consuming worry and the doom and gloom that had come with the lengthy list of diagnosis’ she’d been given; less than optimistic results from emergency x-rays, CAT scans, and ultrasounds. She can’t dwell on that; what MIGHT happen. They may be the experts; top notch in their fields and highly educated with decades of practising medicine under their belts. But  they don’t know Tyler. Not the way she does. They don’t know the trials and tribulations he’d been tested with over the course of forty-one years.  They don’t know how strong he is; how resilient. They didn’t see him beat the odds seven years ago; bouncing back when the cards were stacked against him and busting his ass to get back on his feet again.  And they definitely don’t know how much he loves his family; the depths and the lengths he’d go to stay alive and return to them.
The universe can’t give a man a second chance and then try and snatch it away that easily.
She checks the time on her cell phone. It’s now been three hours and twenty two minutes since he’d been taken down to the OR and a small team of surgeons had set to work. Three significant and invasive procedures at once; back and the knee and the femur of the right leg. The latter seems to give the doctors the most concern;  a massive open fracture that has caused damage to the spurring muscles, tendons, and ligaments.  The main fear -aside from infection setting in- is whether or not there’s too much damage and the leg will be beyond repair. That is a scenario she refuses to acknowledge.  The thought of having to make that decision -having to take away something so vital to someone so active and who can’t still for more than five minutes- leaving her dizzy and nauseous.
Instead she’s been putting all of her energy into thinking...believing...that the operation will be a success. That the damage can -and will- be fixed and the placement of an ilizarov -a metal ‘cage’ over the femur with screw going through the skin and down into the healing bone- will aid in a successful recovery. It will be a long haul; several months of out patient physiotherapy and learning how to weight bear and walk again. But it’s better than the alternative.
Sighing heavily, she places her elbow on the chair’s armrest and places her head in her palm. Eyes closing as she lets the hum of the nearby beverage machine and the multiple conversations taking place around her lull her into a state of relaxation.  Between her feet rests a clear, hospital issued garbage bag; filled to the near brim with her husband’s personal effects. The clothes are beyond salvation, and she questions their mere presence among the other objects; torn and tattered and soaked in blood. And she catches herself thinking about how there hadn’t seemed to be that much of it seven years ago. When she’d rummaged through the items given to her and she’d fled to the nearest public bathroom; furiously sobbing as she irrationally tried to scrub the utility vest clean with water and hand soap because she’d thought he might need it again.  Had there been that much blood? Had his things been that saturated and damaged? Or is it one of the small details that have simply escaped her after so many years?
She scolds herself for thinking about it; comparing the two instances. And she briefly considers trying to distract herself by opening the bag; throwing out the clothes and even the vest, and cleaning up whatever is left behind. The two cell phones, a wallet, his watch and bracelets. The kids would want those last items. Especially the latter for Millie, who had made the newest one and a matching one for herself. If anything DOES happen, it would give them something of his; things that were on his person and would tie them to him forever.
But nothing is going to happen, she reminds herself. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to get through this just like he’s gotten through everything else. And when all is said and done, we’re going to put this all behind us and go home and live our lives.
“Hey,”  a quiet voice greets, accompanied by the tap of toes against the side of one of her runners. And when she opens her eyes she finds Yaz standing over her. His eyes glassy and his brow furrowed with worry; a take out cup of coffee in one hand, a tea in the other.
She manages a small, shaky smile. “Hey.”
“Want some company? I come bearing gifts.”
“Company would be nice. Gifts or no gifts.”
He hands her the cup of tea, then lays a hand on the middle of her back and leans over her chair, pressing her lips to her cheek. “I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.”
Esme wraps her arm around his waist and briefly rests her head against him. “Thank you. But there’s nothing to be sorry for. You did everything right. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this. Or stop it once it did happen. It was way out of your hands.”
“Still feel like shit about it though. Guy’s been like a brother, you now? Known him for a long time. If it wasn’t for him putting a foot up my ass and forcing me to grow up I wouldn’t have Siobhan. Or a baby on the way.”
“It’s kind of alarming when Tyler is the voice of reason,” she chides. Nothing could be further from the truth. When things are their darkest or their scariest, he’s the one that holds everything -and everyone- together. The strong, stoic type who may not say a lot, but is genuine and heartfelt when he does. And he doesn’t shy away from calling people out on their bullshit; always trying to help them avoid making the same mistakes he had years ago.
Yaz sinks into the chair alongside her, arm loosely draped around her shoulder. “How you holding up?”
“Okay, I suppose. I haven’t had an emotional meltdown yet, so I guess I’m doing okay. Some wicked deja vu though. Sitting here like this, in Dhaka, waiting for news. It would be kind of funny it wasn’t so goddamn scary and depressing.”
“I would have been here sooner, but there were things that needed to be taken care of. Loose ends that had to be tied up. You shouldn’t be here alone.  Last time you didn’t really have anyone, but now you have a whole team behind you. A whole family. No way you should be going through this by yourself.”
“Koen and Rata had some things to take care of. For themselves and for Tyler and I. And they needed to clean themselves up. All that blood. All HIS blood. There’s so much of it.” She nods down at the bag between her feet. “How does anyone survive that? How can they lose that much blood and still be breathing?”
“He’s tough. Tougher than most. He doesn’t know how to give up. Doesn’t know the meaning of the word quit. How bad is he?”
“Pretty bad. They’re doing a three in one. He has a torn ACL and MCL in his right knee; they said it’s probably been like that for months and they don’t understand how he was even walking on it.  Open fracture of the right femur; it’s caused some damage to the quad and some ligaments and tendons. They’re hoping they’ll be able to save the leg.”
“Jesus…” Yaz breathes, and gives her shoulder a tight squeeze.
“Gunshot wound to the lower back,” she continues. “The bullet is lodged near his spine. I had to decide what to do. If they left it, it would eventually shift. Days, weeks, months, years And once it would sever the spinal cord and cause instant paralysis. I went with the other option; take it out and hope they don’t fuck anything up while they do. If that's going to happen...if he loses the ability to use his legs...I’d rather it happen now. Here. In the hospital. Not when we get home. He’d be able to accept it better right away.  At least that’s the reason I gave them when I told them to go ahead and to the surgery.”
“It was the right choice,” Yaz assures her “That’s exactly what he’d want. Exactly would be easier on him.”
“We have talked endlessly about these kinds of things; stuff going wrong on the job. But we never talked about THIS. We’ve talked about what happens if he dies, what happens if he gets a severe brain injury and has to have around the clock care for the rest of his life, what happens if he loses his hearing or his sight. But not about this. Not about losing a leg or never being able to walk again. And I’m worried. I’m scared I didn’t do the right thing. For him.”
“You DID do the right thing. You know Tyler better than anyone.”
“And I don’t care if he can’t walk again. Or if he loses his leg. Or if something goes wrong during surgery and I have to take care of him for the rest of our lives; be a wife AND a nurse. None of that matters to me.  He’s my husband. He’s the father of my children.  And I love him regardless. I just want him to be okay. I just want him to live. We have five kids. We have another on the way. We…”
“Wait...hold up..what?”
“Shit….” she groans, and places her palm against her forehead. “...I wasn’t supposed to say anything. We were waiting; until we got home and I found how far along I am.”
“You’re pregnant? You’re having a baby?”
“Surprise, right? It technically shouldn’t have happened. But Tyler didn’t exactly handle the recovery from the vasectomy the way he was supposed to and….well…” she lifts the bottom of her hoodie and t-shirt and runs a hand over the small baby bump. “...here we are.  Little bean and I. Another Rake to add to the world.”
“More proof that things happen for a reason. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. The silver lining, right?”
“That’s one way to look at it, I guess. And that’s what he needs to be okay. Because of the baby. What kind of universe would let a man create a life and then kill him before he gets the chance to even see it?”
“He’s going to be alright. He’s strong. Tough. And stubborn as hell.”
She gives a small laugh. “That seems to be the quality everyone associates with him.  You guys only the tip of that particular iceberg. Try living with him every day for almost seven years. You don’t know the full extent of that stubbornness, believe me. And I know I complain about it; how hard headed he is. But it isn’t all bad. Him being that way. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me and kids. No battle he wouldn’t fight. And that’s how I know he’ll get through this; he wants to see us again.”
Yaz presses a kiss to her temple, then lays his hand on her shoulder, drawing her into him. “I should have got you decaf,” he   says, and nods down at the tea in her hand.
Esme manages a laugh. “It’s fine. One regular tea a day won’t hurt. And thank you.”
“No thanks needed. It’s just a tea.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean for coming here. Showing up. Sitting her with me. I didn’t want to be alone.”
“I got you,” Yaz assures her, placing a hand on the top of her head and bringing it down to his shoulder. “I got you.”
****
Nik is waiting in the hallway when Esme steps through the sliding doors that lead to and from the intensive care unit. Uncharacteristically dressed down in a simple pair of jeans and a black t-shirt; no make up on her face, glossy black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Pacing relentlessly; the soles of her black patent flats clicking against the polished tiles.
“How is he?” Nik inquires, and Esme gives a small start; lost in a world of worry and fear and tremendous responsibility; brain doing battle with all of the negatives of the situation when she’s trying to search for the positives.
“Still in recovery.”  It’s been seven hours since the incident at the storage facility; six spent anxiously waiting as her husband underwent extensive surgery “They just moved him there half an hour ago. I was just getting a tour of where he’s going to be for a while. This will be home for a bit, I guess. It’s really nice; as far as ICUs go. Very patient and patient family friendly.”
“There’s a hotel right across the street,” Nik informs her. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable there?”
“I don’t want to be away from him.  I don’t want him to be alone.”
“You wouldn’t be far away. Couple hundred yards from the front entrance. And it’s not like they won’t contact you if they need you. You’d be close, you’d be able to sleep properly.”
“I’m not leaving him,” Esme remains adamant. “He’s not going to be alone. He deserves better than that.”
“Tyler wouldn’t want you burning yourself out. He wouldn’t want you worrying yourself sick. Not eating or sleeping properly…”
“He’s my husband and I’m not leaving him alone. Maybe you’d make a different decision, but this is mine. Respect it. Please.”
“Fair enough. I’m just concerned about you. That’s all I just want what’s best for you. For BOTH of you.”
“Why are you even here?” Esme asks, and steps out of the way of an orderly pushing an empty bed. Leaning back against the wall next to the sliding doors, arms crossed over her chest and one ankle over the other.  “You were supposed to go back to Australia; with Ovi and Kyle and the kids. To make sure there’s no trouble waiting for when they get home. I thought that’s what we agreed on.”
“Flight doesn’t leave for a few hours.   I wanted to check on things. On you. On Tyler.”
“He made it through the surgery. Or surgeries, I should say. There were no complications and they were able to remove the bullet. I guess they did some tests to check on his nerves and his reflexes and his legs ARE responding. Not a perfect score by any means, but it’s a lot better than they expected.”
“So he’ll be able to walk?”
“They didn’t come right out and say THAT. But they didn’t say he wouldn’t, either. They’re cautiously optimistic.  And I’ll take cautious optimism right about now. He is breathing on his own, though. He needs a bit of supplemental oxygen but no intubation. They’ve given him nerve blocks in the small of his back and his legs and he’s pretty heavily sedated. Doctor said they’d keep him that way for a few days, then slowly bring him out of it.”
“And the leg?”
“They were able to salvage it. He’ll have the ilizarov on for a couple months, at least. But it’s better than the alternative. They’re going to fix his shoulder; torn rotator cuff, shredded labrum, some scar tissue from the last surgery that’s pressing on some nerves.  I told them to hold off until he’s able to be sent home and admitted there. I didn’t want to put him through too much all at once. That’s a lot for one person to handle. Even Tyler.”
Nik nods in agreement. “Do they know how long? Before he can be sent to a hospital closer to home?”
“Depends on how well he does here. They said to be prepared to be here for two weeks at least. A month is the worst case scenario.   That’s if there’s complications or infections. But they did say he’s strong; his heart rate and oxygen levels stayed stable the whole time in the OR. And he wasn’t conscious when he was brought in or in recovery but he is responding to stimuli.Voices and touch. So that’s a good sign.
“A very good sign. Have you seen him?”
“No. They said they’d call me when he’s brought here But I know it’s bad. He’s in really rough shape. I guess Nathan carved his face up pretty good and he cracked his open; tons of stitches and a skull fracture and a severe concussion. There’s no swelling on the brain though. At least not yet. They’ll keep an eye on him. Fingers crossed, right? Maybe he’ll be spared at least a little bit.”
“And you?” Nik asks. “How are YOU?”
“I’m doing okay, I guess. I don’t think the enormity of it has hit me yet. It doesn’t seem real right now. I haven’t even been able to see him; he was already down getting x-rays and a CAT scan when I got here, and then they took him to the OR. It’ll hit me then,  I guess. When I finally DO see him.”
“Do you want me to stay? So you won’t be alone? Anil could push the flight back a couple of hours; I could go in and be with you. You shouldn’t be by yourself, Esme. This isn’t seven years ago. A lot has changed since then. Especially between you and Tyler.”
“I appreciate the offer, Nik; I really do. But I WANT to be alone with him. When I first see him. It’s something I need to do by myself. And I just want my kids out of Mumbai. I want them back home. I want them to get back to their lives. Or at least some parts of their lives, at least. And I’d also really appreciate it if you could make sure Ovi and Kyle stick to the story that I’ve told them; that we had to stay behind for a  few days but we’ll be home soon. I need some time; to figure out what and how to tell them.”
“I’ll make sure no one says anything. But if the kids ask…?”
“Just tell them something unexpected came up that Tyler needed to take care of and I decided to help out. I honestly don’t know how to tell them anything else right now. I’m still trying to wrap MY head around what’s happened. And how serious it is.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around for a few hours? I don't want you to be alone.”
“It’s fine, Nik. I’M fine. Honest. I’m not giving you the brush off because of our ‘issues’. I really am okay. And I just need to be alone with my husband the first time I see him. I know that probably doesn’t make any sense to you but it makes sense to me.”
“Do you need anything? Do you need some clothes or a toothbrush, toothpaste, anything at all? Name it and I’ll get it for you.”
“Koen and Rata went to the safe house and got all our things. I’m good. And they got a room across the street and are going to stick around for a few days at least. So I won’t be totally alone; they’re only a text away if I need something.”
“I just wish there was something I could do,” Nik laments, and reaches out to tuck wayward strands of hair behind Esme’s ears, then gently cradles her face in her palms. “Something I say, even. That would make this all better. I’d do it; take it all away. Make him better.”
Esme manages a brave smile, then swallows around the lump of emotion sitting in her throat and nods. “I know you would. And I appreciate everything you have done; showing up in Mumbai and making sure the kids were safe. And I know Tyler appreciates that too. He doesn’t trust a lot of people with them. Or me. But you’re on the top of the very short list of those he does.”
“I’d do it again. In a heartbeat. I know you don’t believe me when I tell you that I’m sorry. For everything I’ve said, everything I’ve done. But I am. Sorry.”
“I don’t want to talk about that right now. I do appreciate what you’re saying, but I just don’t have the time or the heart for this conversation.  I just can’t right now, Nik. When all this is over and he’s stable and he’s home, maybe I can do it. But not now. And I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. It’s me. All me.”
“Tyler has a friend back home. Andy. You met him at Millie’s party. He’s the aboriginal artist; has a kiddo with special needs.”
“I remember.”
“His business card is on the fridge. If you could call him and ask him to contact me? He has my cell number. Just tell him that Tyler’s hurt and in the hospital and I’d like him to call me. Please?”
“I’ll do it as soon as we get to your place.”
Esme sighs, then combs her fingers through her hair and crosses her over her chest; hands running up and down her biceps. “What’s going on down there?” she asks, and nods down the hallway to where Anil is  huddled in quiet conversation with Koen, Rata, and Yaz.
“Anil is praying. He’s quite spiritual. Apparently Saju was too.”
“Always amazes me what people in our line of work can actually be into. It’s fascinating, really. How we can lie so  easily  and hurt people and take lives yet  still believe and have so much faith in something.  How long has something been going on between the two of you?”
“What?” Nik gives a small laugh “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. You and Anil.  Don’t deny it; he’s been watching you the entire time we’ve been talking. And I know that look on his face. In his eyes. That’s ‘the look’. I have someone that looks at me pretty much the same way.”
“Trust me, no one can look at anyone the way Tyler looks at you. And Anil’s probably just worried about you and how you’re holding up. He feels responsible; for how things ended up.”
“It’s no one’s fault. No one had a reason to think Nathan was off the rails and working for Mahajan.”
“Tyler did,” Nik points out. “He thought Nathan was the mole the entire time. And he tried telling me. He even had the evidence and I just wouldn’t listen. I just thought he was being paranoid. He gets that way sometimes; ever since the PTSD was diagnosed.”
Esme nods in agreement. “I’ve accused him of it a few times. Always turns out he DID have something to worry about.  I won’t do THAT again; laugh it off  or tell him he’s  crazy and needs to stop reading too much into things.”
“I just thought getting attacked rattled him and he was looking for someone to blame. And punish. I should have taken him more seriously. And I regret that. You have no idea how much.”
“Believe me, I’ve said some things to him over the past few months that I regret. And nothing is more painful than that. Regret.  I just hope I get the chance to tell him that. That I was wrong. That I’m sorry.  I really hope I get that chance.”
“You will. He’s tough. Toughest person I know. Present company not included.”
“I don’t feel so tough right about now,” she admits.  “I feel empty and broken and I’m scared and I’m just…”  she sighs once more, shaking her head slowly as she stares down at her feet; toe of one runner rubbing across the tiles. .”...well mostly I’m just scared. And you know, this Nathan thing. This whole ‘you and him’? Sometimes we get so caught up in the idea of someone that we refuse to see the bad stuff or we just ignore it entirely; we hope we can fix them. I’ve made that mistake before.  Why do you think I’m on my second marriage?”
“Ask me, you definitely traded up the second time around.”
“I did,” she smiles. “I really did. He’s a keeper, that’s for sure. My knight in slightly tarnished armour. And Anil seems like a keeper, too. He’s a good guy. Definitely doesn’t pull any punches or play games. What you see is what you get. And if you ask me, the view is good. He’s pretty nice to look at, isn’t he.”
Nik grins.
“I’m married, not dead. I do notice and appreciate attractive people. And he definitely fits the bill. I think he’s a perfect match for you. You’re a lot alike, personality wise. He reminds me of you, actually In all good ways. I hope it works out for you, Nik.  You deserve someone great.”
“Even after everything I did? The pain I caused you?”
“I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Not even you. I just want you to be happy. You deserve that. To be happy. And maybe this is it. Maybe HE’S it.  It happens when you least expect it, that’s for sure. I’m kind of an expert on that subject. I think I’ve written the damn book when it comes to meeting someone under the weirdest and most fucked up situation.  And somehow still making it work.”
“I think you and Tyler are the co-authors of THAT book. I was just thinking about you guys the other day; how it doesn’t seem like seven years.”
“Oh believe me, there’s times it feels like seventy. This would be one of those times. And then there’s those amazing days where it seems like no one time has passed. Like we’re still brand new in everything and still enjoying every moment together and just loving each other as much as we can. Some mornings I’ll walk into the kitchen and he’s in there and he kisses me like it’s the first time all over again. And it’s...I don’t know…beautiful.”
“You’ll get more of those times. More of those kisses.”
“I hope so. Because I’d miss those kisses. I’d miss all of his kisses, actually. Even when he’s grumpy or pouty and I force him to kiss me. Don’t tell him I said that; that he gets pouty. He swears he doesn’t, but he does. You know Tanner’s pout? Picture that on a grown man. On a mercenary covered in tattoos in scars. Trust me, Tyler pouts. And it’s adorable. Don’t tell him I said THAT either.”
Nik gives a small laugh, then runs a hand over Esme’s hair and settles it at the nape of her neck. “Do you want a change of scenery? They’ll call you, right? When they’ve moved him here.”
“Yeah, they said they’d text my cell. They said it would be awhile. They need to keep an eye on him in recovery for a bit. Oxygen, heart rate, that kind of thing.”
“Do you want to grab a tea? Some fresh air?”
“I could use a bit of both, actually. And a phone charger. Koen couldn’t find mine at the house. I swear those things just vanish into thin air or grow legs and walk away. And I should call Tyler’s dad.  I’m sure that’s the last person he wants me to call but it is his father. I know the guy’s a dick, but that is his son and…” her voice cracks with emotion, and she takes a deep, quivering breath. “....and how sad is it that the old man probably won’t even care? That he’ll probably say some shit like ‘call back when he’s dead’. Or ‘don’t expect me to show up at his funeral’.  Because that fucker would; say those things.  And I couldn’t handle that; hearing those things about my husband.”
“I’ll do it for you. Make a list; names and numbers. I’ll call whoever you want me to, okay?”
She  nods. “Okay.”
“You know what I think would really be good for you right now? Something to eat. When’s the last time you ate?”
“I don’t. Some time yesterday. I was too nervous this morning and then things went to shit and I ended up here.”
“You have to take care of yourself, Esme.  He’d want everyone to make sure of that; that you’re taken care of.  Especially now.”
Her eyes narrow. “Yaz told you, didn’t he.”
“He did.”
“We weren’t going to say anything until we got home. Until I saw my doctor and had an ultrasound and found out how far along I am. And now? Now I don’t even know when THAT’S going to happen. When I will get home and have any of that done.”
“Anil knows people. He’ll find someone here that will look after you. That would be good, right? Get some peace of mind? Make sure everything’s okay?”
“I would definitely take some worry off me, that’s for sure.”
“I’ll make it happen. For now, let’s get you something to eat and some fresh air. A little sunshine would do you some good.”
“I could use a little of that  right about now.”
“Come here,”  Nik draws her into her arms, tucking her tightly against her.
Esme hesitates; years of hurt and torment and anger holding her back.  The woman attempting to connect with her...trying to so desperately to make amends...had caused so much damage. Or at least tried to. The attempts -albeit failed- at becoming the ‘other woman’ and destroying a marriage and a family,  the lies she told and the times she’d tried to convince Tyler that Millie wasn’t his and that getting married would be ‘the biggest mistake you ever made’.  It is still painful; that kind of betrayal. And she doesn’t know if it will ever heal; if she’ll ever trust Nik again or even see her as a friend. But right now she IS trying; it’s genuine and heartfelt and there was remorse and guilt in her eyes. And that hug feels so good; the warmth coming off of Nik’s body,  the strength and conviction in those arms, the hand that runs up and down her hair. It’s real; the first real embrace and source of comfort that she’s had all day. And she finally gives into it; both arms circling Nik’s waist and her forehead coming to rest against Nik’s shoulder.
Still the tears don’t come.
****
The main nurse in charge of his care is an older woman; born, raised, and educated in Minnesota. Julie. “But you can call me, Jules”. Shortly after graduation from nursing school, fate...and love...had intervened; sending her on a humanitarian trip into the slums of Dhaka where she met a local doctor.  She never moved back to the States; choosing to reside in Bangladesh; bringing three children into the world -all medical professionals themselves- who in turn have made her a ‘nana’ seven times over. She has that quality; a caring, gentle, and adoring grandmother. A kind, round face and dark, sympathetic eyes; hands that are warm and soft when she shakes yours or touches your shoulder or taps your cheek.
The small talk and the ‘getting to know you’s’ had been a change; her day filled with conversations filled with surgeons and would care specialists and a ‘slightly concerned’ specialist who was troubled by ‘irregular eye movements’ during a neurological exam. Nothing but medical jargon she didn’t fully understand and no one seemed interested in explaining; depressing news and worst case scenarios and warnings not to ‘get her hopes up’.  Talking with Julie had been an escape. Being able  to share her own story about meeting the love of her life and never going home again.  Showing the nurse pictures of her children; bragging about how beautiful and smart they are; how blessed they are to have such an amazing, hands on father who they adored. And vice versa.
But it hadn’t taken long for reality to set in. And despite the comforting hand -and surprisingly strong- hand resting on her shoulder, she hadn’t been able to handle it. The hours of preparing herself for the moment had done nothing in the end; spending less than half a minute at his bedside before she had to flee. She had imagined what he would look like; the shape he’d be in. Putting together all the information she’d been given from the doctors and creating a vivid image in her mind. Her brain had been overly optimistic; painting a brighter and more positive image than what she’d come face to face with. She hadn’t prepared for THAT. The bruising and swelling; the rows of stitches above his right eye, across the top of his forehead, and under his right eye. That one is the worst; stretching all the way from the middle of the orbital bone to his temple.  And she certainly hadn’t been ready to see the central line -for fluids and medications- placed in his chest. Or the severity of the cage like apparatus encasing his thigh.
Now she stands in the room’s private bathroom. Hunkered over the sink with her palms against the ledge; struggling not to vomit. It’s all too much; the reality of the situation. The direness of his condition hitting with such force that she feels as if she can’t breathe. Her lungs tightening and her stomach clenching; the ache in her chest -her heart- unbearable. And she feels ashamed. That seeing him that way affected her so badly. That the love of her life...the man she’d fallen so easily for seven years ago- is at his weakness and more vulnerable and he can’t even count on her to keep her shit together.
A soft knock comes to the door, and before she can respond, the nurse steps inside. A sympathetic smile curving her lips; a tiny plastic cup of meds in one hand, a styrofoam one filled with ice water in the other.  
“Are you okay?” Julie asks.
“No,” Esme admits. “I am so far from okay.”
“Here,” the nurse offers the med. “For your stomach. The nausea.”
“Is it safe?”
Julie arches an eyebrow.
“Baby safe,” she clarifies. “I need it to be safe. I can’t take anything that isn’t. I can’t take any chances. Especially with this one.”
“You’re…”
“We just found out. Two weeks ago. I don’t even know how far along I am. I just know I can’t take any chances. We lost one. A few years ago. I need this baby to be okay.  HE needs it to be okay. He wouldn’t be able to take it if something happened. He wouldn’t be able to handle another loss.”
“It’s safe,” Julie assures her, and Esme gives a grateful, appreciative smile and takes the meds offered; dumping them into her mouth and washing them down with a sip of water.
“I hate myself,” she says. “For having to leave like that. For having that reaction to him. Of all people. He’s my husband. The father of my children. And that’s how I react? What is wrong with me?”
“Nothing. This is a lot for anyone to go through. It's hard seeing the people we love when they’re sick or injured. And seeing them at THAT extent? It’s a shock; no matter how much we try to prepare ourselves.”
“I’ve seen him in bad shape. Seven years ago. I held him when he was dying; I stuck my fingers in his neck to try and keep him alive. But he didn’t look like that. He was in really rough shape but he wasn’t THAT bad. God, I sound horrible. I’m a piece of shit for a wife. I’m sorry. Language.”
“Oh honey, I’ve heard AND said worse. You don’t have to hold your tongue around me. And it’s him that you’re having trouble seeing. It’s the situation. The loss of control. Feeling helpless because you can’t fix things. Fix HIM. That’s what you can’t handle.”
Esme nods in agreement. “It scares me. Seeing him like that. Because he’s usually the one that takes care of everyone else. He’s the strong one. The one that holds everything together when it feels like it’s falling apart. I mean, I had a labour so fast, that I had to give birth in my own home. He delivered his son. And he was so calm and so strong and to  see him   like this? It’s hard. Accepting it. Seeing what was done to him. And I’m angry. I am so fucking angry.”
“You have every right to be.”
“I just thought I could handle it. And now I can’t. I’m terrified. Of seeing him like and not knowing if he’ll make it. Do you know if he will? Is he going to be okay?”
“He’s doing very well so far.”
“I need someone to tell me he’s going to be okay. That he’s going to get past this. Because all I’ve heard so far is negative and I need something possible to hold onto. To keep me going. Because I’m scared and I’m lost and I don’t know how to help him. And I’ve always been able to help him.”
“All you can do is be with him. Hold his hand. Talk to him. Tell him you love him.”
“I remember seven years ago, when he came out of the coma, he could recite  things I said to him while he was out. Almost word for word. Do you think it will be the same this time?”
“He can hear you. And he’s reacting to voices and touch. It’s just very heavy sedation; you might not get a response every time. But he CAN hear you. His brain is working. We’ve seen signs of that already. Let that be the positive you carry. That he can hear you.”
“I don’t want him to hear me get upset. I don’t want to cry around him. Because he worries about me. All the time. And if he knows I’m having a hard time, it will stress him out. And he doesn’t need to be stressed. I need a few more minutes to get myself together.”
“Take your time, love. I’m going to do rounds; I’ll come back and check on you both. Hang in there,” she gently pats Esme on the cheeks. “You’re a lot stronger than you think.”
****
“Tyler?”  Her voice is barely above a whisper as she stands at the side of his bed. A hand tightly gripping one of his, the other resting on the top of his head; thumb repeatedly brushing across his forehead.
She refuses to let the tears fall, or let fear and sadness creep into her voice. Instead she presses soft, feathery kisses across his brow and down the bridge of his nose; each eye and cheek, then his lips.
“I know you can hear me. Remember last time? When you woke up you were able to  tell me a lot of things that I said to you. Even when I called you a massive dick for stressing me out. And I know that right this second that brain of yours? It’s coming up with some rude comment about YOUR dick. Do I know you or what? I know you better than you know yourself half the time. Maybe even more than half. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”  
Esme gently combs her fingers through his hair and places a kiss on his forehead.  
“You’re doing so well,” she praises. “Better than anyone thought you would. No breathing tube this time. You’re handling that all on your own. And you’re so strong and so brave and if anyone can get through this, it’s you. If you can survive seven years ago, you can survive this, right? I know you can. And I’m not going to let any asshole doctor tell me otherwise. They don’t know you. Not like I do. They don’t know how hard you’ll fight to get back to your family. But I do.”
She hooks a foot around the leg of a nearby chair and pulls it to the side of the bed; pressing one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before gathering the sides of the hoodie -HIS hoodie- around her body and sitting down.
“This is a lot nicer than the last ICU we were in,” she says, reaching through the safety railing and taking one of his hands in both of hers. “There’s a shower room and a kitchen for families and a TV room they can sit in when they need a bit of a break. Your nurse is nice. But she’s old enough to be your mother, so don’t get any funny ideas or your hopes up about sponge baths. And your room is pretty big; the little out bed thing is actually a small couch. Quite a step up from the chair thing I had to sleep in last time. And remember your least favorite thing from seven years ago? Having to have a catheter? Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there was no other choice. At least you got to miss the part where they put it in.. Always a bright side, right? You always say that. About everything. You always make sure I know what the bright side of every shitty situation is. And you’re always right, too. They always do turn out to be the bright sides. Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that. That you’re always right. Because of all the things I’m saying, that will be the one you remember.  And you will  hold that over my head for the next fifty years.  That’s now much longer you’re stuck with me for. Sorry if you thought you were bailing on me. You’ve got a lot more years left of putting up with my shit.”
She releases his hand, gently turning it over and grazing her nails along his fingers and palm. Smiling when the heart rate monitor beeps, recording a slight change. “I forgot; that’s the ticklish hand. Weird how all the boys are the same; left hand and the inner thighs. I sent them back; to Australia. The kids. I haven’t told them anything yet. To be honest, I don’t know what to say. But I do know that you’d tell me to get them out of Mumbai and send them home. So that’s what I did. Kyle and Ovi went with them and Anil and Nik will stay with them for a bit; just to make sure trouble didn’t follow. And speaking of Anil and Nik, do I ever have some gossip to tell you. But I’ll make you wait until you wake up for that. It should be a few days; until you come out of it completely.”
She traces slow, soft circular patterns on his palm and the inside of his wrist. “I want you to know that we’re okay. The kids and I.  No one showed to hurt me OR them. And I don’t know exactly what happened or what went wrong, or what you remember, but you got Neysa and Aarev out and they’re on their way home. They’re going to be okay. It’ll take a while; to get over everything. But they’ll be fine.  Thanks to you. And I’m so proud of you, Tyler,” her voice cracks with emotion. “I’m always proud of you. I know I bitch about the job a lot;  how you’re away from home so much. But it’s just because I worry about you.  It doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you, though. And speaking of being proud…you being the proud daddy to be and all...Anil’s going to set up an appointment for me. So we can find out how far along I am. And get an ultrasound done. That way you’ll have your very first picture to put on the fridge.”
She draws his hand through the railing, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist before carefully setting his arm down on the mattress and standing up. “I need you to listen to me Tyler James. And you know it’s serious when I use BOTH your names.”  She rests a hand on his stomach, the other brushing his bangs off his forehead and then settling on the top of his head. “I need you to know that I’m okay. Because I know right now…even with everything that’s going on with you...that you’re worried about me.  And you don’t have to be. I’m fine. I’m safe. I’ve got people watching out for me and taking care of me. So you don’t need to worry about any of that, okay? Because you always put me first no matter what you’re going through. Right now, I need you to put yourself first. For once. I really need you to do that, alright? I promise I’m fine. And the baby’s fine and the kids are fine. We’re all fine. But we need YOU to be fine, too. So you have to put yourself first for a change. I know that’s hard for you. But it’s what I need you to do.  It’s important you do it. And I love you…”  she presses a kiss to his lips   and then rests her forehead against his.  “...I love you so much. And I’ll be here when you wake up. I told you I’d get to you. Somehow. It’s what we do, right? Bust our asses to take care of each other.”
She nuzzles the tip of her nose against the bridge of his.
“I love you,” she says again. “You need to rest, okay? You’re finally pain free. At least for now. You’re finally at peace.”
She kisses him a final time, then sits back down in the chair and tucks her knees into her chest. Drawing the hoodie around her body once more as she settles in for a long night.
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peraltasames · 4 years
Text
that would be enough
It’s an amazing opportunity and, frankly, one that he would take with no hesitation if it weren’t for his incredible, beautiful wife and the baby she has been growing inside her for three months. That’s a pretty big ‘if’.
(in which jake gets offered another fbi job and he has a seemingly impossible decision to make - which maybe isn't really so difficult after all.)
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After working a double, during which he arrested a major drug kingpin and helped Rosa and Charles find a suspect in their homicide case, Jake is: A) feeling pretty pleased with himself, and B) more than ready to get home to his wife and bring her some Polish comfort food (they’ve ordered from them so much lately that they’re on a first name basis with their delivery guy).
It’s super unlike him that he even stops to check his email on his way out of the precinct, but he’s so used to waiting for Amy to do it that it’s become a habit at this point. Aside from an exciting announcement about an upcoming sneaker sale at an outlet mall upstate, there’s only one unopened item in his inbox. It’s an encrypted message from Captain Kim, whom he hasn’t spoken to since she finally accepted his long series of apology emails (accompanied by a fruit basket, Amy’s suggestion) and the subject line simply reads Job Opportunity.
It’s brief, but the gist is simple: there’s an undercover operation in the works, they think he’s the right person for the job, it would be a great opportunity and an excellent way for him to get his foot in the door for a potential higher-up position in the FBI. The rest is a little more murky - it’s potentially very dangerous (she can’t go into detail in an email, obviously, but he’s willing to bet it’s got something to do with one of the crime families that have been gradually moving their operations from Manhattan into Brooklyn). It could also take months. She urges him to take time to seriously consider the position, and to contact her as soon as he comes to a decision.
It’s an amazing opportunity and, frankly, one that he would take with no hesitation if it weren’t for his incredible, beautiful wife and the baby she has been growing inside her for three months. That’s a pretty big ‘if’.
He’s so lost in his own thoughts for the entirety of his commute home that he actually forgets to pick up dinner, which he realizes the moment he opens the door and sees Amy reclined on the couch reading her third pregnancy book of the week, all four of their designated “living room blankets” draped over her.
“Oh my god, I forgot the food,” he blurts out, startling Amy and making her drop the book on her lap. “I’ll just run back out and grab it, sorry, I-”
“Babe, wait-” She jumps up from her perch on the couch and carefully places the book on the coffee table. As she crosses the room to meet him in the doorway, his eyes flit to her barely noticeable but steadily growing baby bump. Their baby. Their baby that needs him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he mutters, avoiding her gaze as he shifts back and forth. “I just forgot the food so I’m just gonna head out real quick-”
“We can just order, Jake, I can wait,” she assures him with a warm smile. Pregnant Amy is usually - to put it in the most favourable term possible - less than patient when it comes to food, so he can tell right away that she either really missed him or can tell something’s bothering him.
She wraps her arms around his neck and leans up onto her tiptoes to kiss him hello, and judging by the intensity of her kiss and how tightly she’s squeezing him he figures it was the first one and he’s in the clear of having to talk about all that for at least a few minutes.
“Did something happen at work, babe?”
Damn it, so close.
“Why do you ask?”
“You’re super tense,” she frowns, rubbing his shoulders as she shifts back down to her normal height. “And you won’t look me in the eye.”
She places her hand on his cheek and gently guides his gaze to hers, forcing him to make eye contact with her, and some combination of her touch and the impossibly tender, concerned look she’s giving him causes him to cave instantly.
“Um, can we talk?” He gestures to the couch, where her mountain of blankets have been abandoned, and she nods quickly.
They settle in on the comfortable sofa, the first purchase they made together when her apartment became theirs. They’ve had god-knows-how-many important conversations and lazy Sunday afternoon cuddles and heated post-date makeout sessions when they just couldn’t make it all the way to the bedroom on this couch. He’s willing to bet that they conceived their child on this couch three months ago, though an argument could be made for the shower that morning or their bed later that evening as well.
Amy tucks her legs behind her and turns to face him, reaching out to rest a hand on his thigh and waiting for him to speak.
“Remember how Captain Kim mentioned a potential FBI liaison position for me?”
Amy nods and sits up straighter, her eyes brightening. “Did the FBI offer you a job?”
“Not exactly.” He scratches his head, searching for the right words. “Captain Kim recommended me for an undercover mission with the FBI. She made it seem like - uh, if it went well I could be offered something more permanent with them.”
Amy pauses for a moment, clearly deep in thought. “That could be life-changing.”
“I know, but Ames, it, um-” He sighs. “The job sounds a lot like last time I went undercover.”
Her grip on his thigh seems to tighten, perhaps subconsciously, as she stares fixedly at the book left forgotten on the coffee table. He can imagine her train of thoughts; last time he went undercover it was six months with an incredibly dangerous crime family and he could’ve died a bunch of times. They may not have been together at the time, but their mutual yearning was only amplified by the painfully long separation. They’ve been no strangers to painfully long separations since - god, he would do anything to have every night he spent in the Florida heat or a chilly jail cell back and get to relive each one of them in her arms instead.
He reaches out to grab her hand with both of his. “Ames-”
Before he can get any further, she shrugs him off and walks purposefully towards their bedroom. He’s terrified he’s going to hear the sound of a slamming door that he associates so strongly with being a helpless kid watching his parents’ relationship fall apart and never connects to his own marriage, but it never comes.
She returns moments later with her trusty notebook and a pen in hand, sitting back down next to him and beginning to write.
“What are you doing?”
She doesn’t look up at him. “It’s an important decision. We need a pro/con list.”
Jake sighs. “Honey, can we just talk about it?”
“We are talking about it,” she deadpans. “We’ll start with the easy stuff. Pro: you could get your dream job.”
As soon as she’s done writing, Amy looks over to him, which he takes to mean that it’s now his turn.
“Okay. Con: I could be gone for three to six months, a.k.a. when you could literally be giving birth to our child.”
“But you could do it in three,” she counters. “Pro: you could make more money at a new job, which we obviously need more than ever.”
“Con: I could mess up the job somehow and not be recommended for the new position.”
Amy doesn’t write that one down, and he raises an eyebrow.
“It wouldn’t happen, you’re too good at your job.”
His heart swells at her quiet but reverent tone, and she doesn’t pull away when he reaches to grab her hand again.
“Okay, your turn, then,” he prompts.
She stares at the paper intently, and her hand holding the pen begins to tremble as her gaze shifts over to the con column. He almost knows what she’s going to say before she says it, because it’s only natural for the mind to go to the worst-case scenario in situations like these. Still, it’s hard for him to stomach the mere thought of leaving her all alone, especially now.
“You could get hurt,” she mumbles shakily under her breath. Her watering eyes begin to shed fully-formed tears, falling steadily on her grey t-shirt. “I-I could lose-I could lose you-”
She’s cut off by a small sob, her fists clenching around the material of the blanket as her entire body starts to shake. Amy crying isn’t rare, and pregnant Amy crying is an even more frequent occurrence, but seeing her cry over anything more than a spilled yogurt cup is too much for him to take. Jake’s heart feels like it’s cracking in two, but his instincts overpower his own sadness and he reaches for her immediately. She falls into his chest the moment his hands reach her and her sobs increase in volume as she clutches at his shirt.
“That’s never gonna happen, baby,” he whispers against her hair in-between quick, healing kisses everywhere his lips can reach. “Shh, you’re not gonna lose me.”
“You - you can’t promise that.”
“I am promising you that. I’m gonna call Captain Kim first thing Monday morning and respectfully decline the offer. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
She pulls away from him, shaking her head quickly.
“I can’t ask you to do that. It’s too good of an opportunity, being a detective won’t be enough for you forever and this job is your dream-”
“You didn’t ask me to, Ames, and it’s not. You and our little lemon-sized-as-of-this-morning baby are my dream, okay? You’re not just enough, you’re everything - more than everything I could have ever dreamed of. Okay?”
Amy wipes her tears away, but there are already new ones forming in her eyes. She looks at him with so much trust, and he knows now, even more than he did five seconds ago, that he could never put himself in harm’s way again unless absolutely necessary.
She finally cracks a small smile, nodding slowly.
“More than everything of which you could ever have dreamt.”
Jake frowns. “Huh?”
“You ended a sentence with a proposition. It should be ‘more than everything of which you could ever have dreamt.’”
He laughs softly, cupping her face and wiping the remaining tears away. “That’s my girl.”
She tucks herself back into his embrace and squeezes his arm tightly as the other one wraps around her waist.
“Are you sure about this?”
Jake nods against her head, his free hand stroking her hair.
“I think I kind of knew what my answer was as soon as I read the email. I used to get so excited about these crazy life-or-death missions, but now…”
“No more ’eyes closed, head first, can’t lose?’” she supplies, smiling up at him.
The memory of walking away from her in a parking lot, the weight of his confession hanging in the air as he left knowing he might never see her again, stings a bit. He wishes he could tell that version of himself that had never really experienced true love and happiness how much he would have to live for someday.
“Who woulda thought that guy would be a dad?” Jake laughs.
Amy snuggles further into him, kissing the spot on his hoodie that rests over his heart. “You’re gonna be the best dad. I love you so much.”
He’s filled with a surge of warmth, both from her embrace and words of love, and the knowledge that he will do everything in his power to be the best dad. He will stick around and he will do everything in his power to make their child as happy as they can be and he will give every ounce of unconditional love and support in his body. He will be better than his father, better than his past self, better every day than he was the day before.
“I love you,” he kisses her cheek, “and you”, his hand grazes her belly (he’s been eagerly anticipating a kick, though she reminds him it could be weeks or even months before they feel anything), “so much.”
She shifts to properly kiss him, and he gladly welcomes it with a hand on her back pulling her closer and the other still tangled in her hair. When she pulls away and smiles at him, he feels like all the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders.
“Can we order dinner now?” she pleads, breaking the tranquility of the moment, but with good reason. “I’m actually starving.”
“Good idea, Tomak is going to get super worried if he doesn’t hear from us soon.”
He pulls his phone from his pocket and goes straight to his recent calls, ordering enough pierogis to feed a small army (or one pregnant Amy) and a couple of hot chocolates, and they seamlessly fall into their routine of selecting whatever they’re currently binging on Netflix (right now it’s The Crown), getting cozy, and waiting for Tomak’s arrival.
This, forever, will always be more than enough for him.
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