#it’s crazy considering the amount of stuff he gets done for him on a daily basis that I would never even think would be done for me by anyo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamerhideout · 3 years

Text

enhypen genshin impact!au hcs

characters: enhypen

word count: ~200 words each

warnings: mentions of alcohol for jay’s part, lore inaccuracies (i haven’t caught up on dragonspine event lore yet), spoilers for mondstadt + liyue main quest

a/n: i’m supposed to be working on something else but this brainrot got to me first... anyways, i’m assigning their visions + weapons based off a few fan theories i’ve read~ please enjoy my word dump! :D

more under the cut!

jungwon

okay so we’re starting off with our leader! hmm... i’d say that he has a geo vision

why? idk, i’m half sure it’s based off how calm and composed he is; i do kinda think jungwon is a picture of maturity and elegance (he literally has to take care of six children wdym)

it was kinda hard for me to choose a weapon because i kept going back-and-forth from sword to polearm, but my final pick for him would be polearm

yes this would mean that he is zhongli

a polearm would probably suit him because i see him as the kind to want some kind of control over his weapon (not saying he can’t control a sword). at the same time i feel like he’d want something lightweight which won’t bring him down

i think he’d work with the knights of favonius. working with the liyue qixing could also work for him, but considering the tension between the adepti and the qixing + the social climate of liyue makes me think that he’d want somewhere more calm

acting grandmaster jungwon? i’m down for it

spends time near the mondstadt church; he likes the peace and quiet of it

heeseung

from the get-go i knew he’d have a hydro vision

this one theory i’ve read says that hydro vision users have a strong sense of morality and justice (i guess i also interpreted it as balance) and heeseung seems like the kind of person who does

for weapon, i think he’d prefer to use a sword. we see that he’s good in a lot of areas when it comes to being an idol, so he’d perhaps want that versatility in the weapon he uses as well

hello xingqiu (wait i kinda think this fits)

i don’t see him particularly associating himself to any organization, so i think he’d simply be a wanderer. he goes from country to country as a vagabond, battling monsters along the way in order to perfect his skills

at the same time, i also see him making a lot of friends and having a bunch of connections from just about any corner of the land (more to acquaintances i suppose? heeseung doesn’t seem like the kind to let people in very quickly)

is probably very curious on elemental reactions and might be studious in a way; he would want to learn alchemy

likes stopping by mondstadt’s library when he needs to look up on something. probably keeps in contact with alchemists too

jay

oh man this is going to probably be very stereotypical

pyro vision, hands down. i was considering an electro vision for him at first but the amount of passion he has in doing the things he loves (primarily hip-hop) screams pyro to me

he would also have a claymore because let’s be real, he’d want something to get the job done quick; claymores are literally the weapon that causes the most damage

yeah he’d be diluc. or xinyan. whatever your pick is

bonks monsters for fun, fight me on this

association... i think he’d be a part of the adventurer’s guild. he strikes me as the kind of person who’d want some kind of reward for something he does for fun (in this case, mora. and a bunch of other items you can get from katheryne once you complete your daily commissions)

this is probably how he meets all his friends. if he wasn’t a part of any association, i don’t think he’d have many (not saying that he’s unable to make friends, he’d choose not to unless necessary)

strives to be a well-known adventurer, probably takes up more commissions than the average one

likes spending time in places with good ambience, food, and booze. probably is a regular at angel’s share and liyue’s street food stalls on days he comes to town

jake

i think he’d have an electro vision. it’s something about the way he fiercely cares for other people that makes me think that this suits him best

okay hear me out but i think he’d be amazing with a bow and arrow. he seems to have the tenacity and upper body strength for it, and i don’t think he’d particularly want something that could do a quick kill, like a sword or claymore per se

uhh... yeah he’d be fischl, i suppose. idk this realization was a bit weird to me but it doesn’t seem so far off from happening

sometimes uses his skills to shoot at fruit from trees; it’s a pretty good party trick

association-wise i don’t think he’d wanna join any, tbh. he’d be an “everyone’s friend” kinda guy. unlike heeseung who’d have acquaintances from all around, jake would generally want to befriend different kinds of people (helps around wangshu inn sometimes because of this)

still though, i think he hangs with members of the adventurer’s guild a lot

don’t be surprised if you catch him befriending a member of the fatui-

i also see him really immersing himself in the culture of each country he visits

he’s the guy who pets all the animals, especially the dogs

also seems like the kind to purchase or collect raw meat just to give to the stray animals he meets on his travels

sunghoon

oh boy am i excited for this one

okay so i know this is stereotypical but... cryo vision. honestly, having a geo vision would also be possible but remember that one time childe said something around the lines of the goddess of cryo having such a warm heart and she loved so much to the point it froze? yeah i think i’m basing him off the tsaritsa-

weapon would be a sword. i considered choosing a polearm for him but i think he’d want something slightly heavier that would get the job done, but not necessarily a claymore. do i think he has the capacity to use a claymore if he wanted to, though? sure why not

hello kaeya (or qiqi, if you’d wish)

okay okay this is where it gets fun... imagine sunghoon as a member of the fatui

mmm villain!sunghoon we love to see it

he’d honestly probably be on the road to becoming a harbinger? like, we see how he works very hard at ice skating and idol training, who’s to say that he won’t climb up the ranks real quick?

yes jakehoon brotp agenda is still on so they would be friends (though honestly their friendship is kinda uncanny)

when i thought of stuff to write for him i kinda think that he’d like liyue a lot; the tradition and order feel like home to him. this also fits lore because there’s more fatui appearances in liyue compared to mondstadt

also seems like the kind to wander around the city when things start to calm down for the day; if he’s not being tasked on a mission, he sometimes likes to head out to huaguang stone forest

sunoo

sunshine baby

okay i think he’d have an anemo vision (and this is not because he reminds me of venti). there was another theory that said that anemo vision-holders are hard workers who sometimes don’t give themselves enough rest, and sunoo seems to make the cut. he’s crazy hardworking at things he know he’s lacking at and strives to improve

i think he’d have a catalyst (yes!! we need male catalyst characters!!); i can see him absolutely fascinated by the way catalysts work like... “there’s no solid object engineering the attacks so... what is that? it seems so cool!”

so yeah he’d be sucrose, hello

i also think he’d want to be a part of the adventurer’s guild! it keeps him busy plus he likes helping people :D

would then be introduced to jay (and possibly jake) when he’s assigned to do a commission with him. honestly he’d prefer doing commissions with others rather than doing them alone

has a hard time killing monsters because he finds them cute (especially slimes). i think he’d also empathize with hilichurls to a degree

i see him residing in mondstadt most of the time; he’d also like talking to the locals a lot (has a high rep because of this)

loves trying out local cuisine, some of his favorite dishes include sweet madame and zhongyuan chop suey!

ni-ki

oh i’m also kinda excited for his too

so i initially thought he’d have a pyro vision, but after some time i figured he’d have an electro vision instead. i think it’s this weird sentiment i feel that he’d protect his passions with his life (in this case, dancing; he’s literally inseparable from it), so there’s that

totally looks like the kind to have a polearm. he definitely would want something lightweight that he could lowkey flex with

sadly he doesn’t have a genshin character twin yet :(

would also not have any affiliation whatsoever; he just traverses the land like the free spirit he is

occasionally would tag along with some adventurer’s guild members, but doesn’t like the idea of people telling him what to do; he creates his own adventures instead

am i the only one here who thinks that he’d honestly run really fast here (hehe speedy boi)

he’d love dashing through mondstadt’s plains (particularly springvale), sometimes slashing monsters left and right (he likes liyue’s scenery but the terrain is way too mountainous for him)

one thing he does like about liyue though is playing with the kids in the harbor. he’d get them toys with the extra mora he receives when helping people (big brother ni-ki agenda hmm)

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypenwriters #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #enhypen jungwon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen ni-ki #jay park #jake sim

56 notes · View notes

joonkorre · 3 years

Text

its crazy late but

@drarrymicrofic prompt: blanket fort

(there’s no plot. none. just dudes being guys, guys being pals)

(caution: not very micro, more like a one shot. a whole lot of anecdotes. i’m writing this under a blanket with snow beating at my window, so of course this has to be very soft and warm. you have been warned)

“Hello?” Harry says into the dark. He’s just gotten home and instead of seeing the familiar orange hue of their beetle-shaped lamp (a gift from Luna, of course), there’s a single sliver of moonlight slipping through the curtains. Nothing else seems to exist in the living room but the echo of Harry’s greeting. Tangerine and sage drift into his nose, followed by the bitter tang of smoke. The scent of Draco’s favorite candle, newly extinguished.

Draco just left. Discovered a breakthrough in his research and fled to the Ministry lab, maybe.

Harry sighs. Unlaces his boots and hangs up his coat absentmindedly only for it to crumple onto the floor. Another sigh. He bends and retrieves it, deciding instead to throw it in the laundry bin. Might as well; he’s been trudging around in Dayhound mucus for hours and neither his dragonhide boots nor coat were spared.

Walking into the kitchen, Harry grabs a glass from the drying rack and pours himself water from the pitcher in the fridge. It’s ridiculous how a simple act like this can drain his energy so, but it does. Curse breaking isn’t a walk in the park; even walking hurts, considering the amount of magic he expends on shite like a 500-year-old wailing locket on a day to day basis. Exposure to different kinds of magic - dark, Old Magick, elemental, countlessly and endlessly more- for 8 hours straight more often than not result in a fierce ringing in his temples and pinpricks on his skin.

After years of doing it, he can scarcely tolerate one Portkey trip from wherever he’s assigned to back to the main headquarter before getting uncontrollable shivers. Another 30 minutes on the metro, then a 10-minute walk home. In addition, Harry has to sleep for at least 8 hours every night to replenish his energy. Morning comes, he wakes up, Apparates to the headquarter, and the cycle continues.

Why does he even stick with curse breaking at this point? Right, a wry grin graces Harry’s lips, Draco thinks the uniform is hot. Oh, and can’t forget the job benefits, insurance, whole nine yards.

With the glass now rinsed and settled once more on the drying rack, Harry drags his feet to the bedroom. The clock - an antique Draco stole from his cheating ex - hits 7:18 PM, but getting ready to go to sleep sure sounds like a decent idea. Harry palms the back of his aching neck and winces. He’d go shower, scrub the dirt and tension off his limbs, and maybe heat up the leftovers from two days-

“There you are. I was wondering how much longer drinking water could take.”

Harry looks up from his slippered feet to see Draco. Or, more specifically, Draco’s silhouette. Behind some kind of white cloth. A white cloth that’s conveniently placed where the focus of the bedroom should’ve been.

The relief at seeing his husband evaporates.

“What,” Harry says, “where’s our bed.”

Draco’s silhouette crawls to the opening of the cloth… tent-shaped thing. Pewter grey eyes peer at him behind strands of near-platinum blonde, its icy color soothed by the orange tint of… ah, so he’s brought the bug lamp in here. Neat.

“I,” Draco answers. Pauses. “Might have brought it somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else.”

“Yes.”

Harry shakes his head. An exasperated chuckle escapes his lips.

“Is ‘somewhere else’ the recycling center?”

“Why,” Draco flops down on the floor, appearing tired of holding himself up on his elbows for more than 10 seconds. It’s peculiar to see, the gesture a bit ungraceful for someone like him. Harry is helplessly in love amused. “Do my ears deceive me? Am I being confronted, cornered, accosted for being a good husband? Were the 5 minutes it took to Shrink and Levitate the wretched old thing away from our safe haven worth your condescension, dear lover?”

“I guess I did say I hate-”

“Correct!”

“-the headboard. Nothing but the headboard. Yesterday. While I’m half asleep. Baby.”

“Oh, pish posh, I hate it too! In fact, I’m doing us both a favor disposing of the entire thing altogether.”

“God, however can I thank you? I mean, you did rid us of our bed where we sleep on.”

“You can thank me by taking off those horrid gears faster and come here,” with that, Draco crawls back to where he was sitting before.

“You love these gears,” Harry says, hanging his harnesses and tool belt in the closet and walking into the bathroom for a quick shower, “you love them against your ba-”

“Put a lock on that filthy mouth, Potter, what will the Daily Prophet think?” Draco’s yell almost drowns out the shower spray. Harry laughs, his stomach hurting for the right reason at last.

When he re-enters the bedroom, Draco is leaning out from the tent thing.

“Come, get in, get in,” he beckons with a hasty wave.

Harry points to his wet hair with the hand holding his towel. Draco clicks his tongue and waves his hand more aggressively.

His husband’s level of theatrics is directly proportional to how slow Harry is at doing what he says, so he nods, fondness overflowing, and obeys.

“What’s all this?” He crouches and crawls in, eyeing the collection of pillows and quilts surrounding Draco and what would be Harry’s seat. It seems that he had also lugged in the chairs from their dining room to provide some structural support for the tent.

“A blanket fort, lover,” Draco says, his gaze tender. Harry’s finger tips tingle with every touch of cotton, linen, silk, as he gets situated. It’s been years and years and years and years, and Harry can never get used to, can never take for granted, the weight of his husband’s undivided attention.

“Huh,” he says, sitting down with an ‘oof’, “isn’t this for kids?”

“A blanket fort is a blanket fort,” Draco takes the towel from Harry’s arm and puts the throw pillow Ron knitted in his lap. He hits a button on the laptop in front of them, and Harry’s favorite jazz collection plays. He blinks. He thought Draco would play his questionable atmospheric-white-noise-POV-you’re-having-tea-in-a-gothic-vampire-library playlist, the weirdo.

Velvety smooth sax flows through the air. Harry exhales, easy and content, and lets Draco tilt his head. He towels Harry’s hair, massaging unhurried circles on his scalp and varying the degree of pressure. In no time, his head lolls forward, eyes closed, chin a breath away from his well-worn shirt. A slender, pale hand cups his cheek and holds his head up and steady. Meanwhile, the hand’s owner leans out of the blanket fort to get something.

“Ow.” A grunt. Harry smiles; most likely a cramp from all the leaning.

Then, his husband reseats himself, this time with a smell. A mouth-watering, delicious smell, tickling the back of Harry’s nose. He opens his eyes to see Draco lifting off the lid of a ceramic bowl perched on a tray, steam floating out and fogging Harry’s glasses. It’s purple yam soup, topped with chopped up shrimp and ground beef.

“Your usual order from the Viet place nearby whenever Pepper-up isn’t sufficient,” Draco murmurs, placing a spoon in Harry’s hand, his words warm against Harry’s temple. Huh, he didn’t think Draco would notice. “You said today you’d deal with those disgusting booby traps you showed me, thus I reckoned I should put the yams on our counter into good use.”

Harry stares at the soup, stunned. Draco must have taken his expression as something else.

“Oh, right,” he says, “I heated it up on the stove, but you were taking atrociously long so I casted a Heating charm. Let me take it off, okay?”

Draco flicks his hawthorn wand, a hand squeezing Harry’s shoulder as if he could see the prickling running up Harry’s nape.

He turns to look at his husband. When Harry’s career was starting to take its toll on his magical core, Draco didn’t hesitate to dive headfirst into Muggle living. Easier said than done, and it took months for him to stop frowning at the “absolutely bizarre, Potter, bizarre” appliances, but he got there in the end. Despite his constant bitching about everything, Draco not once raised a word about the drastic switch, effortlessly guiding Narcissa to gossip about the Albescu clan’s abhorrent matriarch when she asks about how he’s faring.

“Gosh, I,” Harry says. Mumbles, really, into Draco’s collarbone, filling his brain with the woodsy aroma of potion making that no amount of expensive body products can mask, “that’s lovely, baby, thank you.”

“Eat,” Draco says, rubbing his chin on the top of Harry still-damp hair and messaging his tense neck. Harry knows he’s breathing him in too. “Or I’ll have to heat it up in the kitchen again, and forgive me but I’d rather stay here for the next 12 hours, at least.”

“Lazy arse.”

Draco laughs, a momentary rumble of his chest, then moves forward to click something on the laptop. Harry’s on his fifth spoonful of pure comfort when the jazz music stops, and on the blank wall opposite from their blanket fort is the title card of a movie. Strange, Harry didn’t even notice the mini projector. He squints.

“Why is there Korean subtitles?”

“Lover,” Draco tosses a napkin at Harry’s crossed legs, “what is watching movies online without the occasional bout of piracy?”

“Pira- piracy,” Harry chokes, the hot soup stinging his palate, “we have a Netflix subscription.”

“You can’t find shite like this on Netflix.”

“Of course we can. Baby, we don’t know anyone who’s good at computer stuff and can deal with the viruses.”

“There’s no virus here, I checked.”

“How,” Harry stresses, “and again, piracy.”

“Sometimes,” Draco says, lowering the speaker volume, “not doing crimes… is worse.”

“What the fuck,” the main character, a square-faced woman with a python around her neck, has a monologue in a completely different language. “What the fuck? Is that Italian?”

“Yes, but I’m French.”

“And?”

“And they’re both Romance languages. I can understand certain words and translate it for you.”

No, he can’t.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Keep eating,” Draco settles amid the pillows, long hair settled on his satin-clad chest, white against emerald. Harry sneers at him - an unfortunate habit he’s gotten from Draco - and turns to watch the movie.

True to his words, Draco translates every dialogue and mimics the characters’ voices with zeal, contradicting his stoic expression and somber, interlaced hands, looking like a cranky judge having to deal with reckless teenagers on their anti-authority phase. Harry can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing, and soon enough he’s woven a story about how the thriller-mystery they’re watching is actually a vicious custody battle over a duck. For each of Harry’s occasional snicker at the absurdity Draco has thought up is a playful kick at his ribs.

Minutes pass. With Harry’s bowl now emptied, he puts it on a chair and goes to wash up.

The moment he sits back down, Draco’s big toe pokes at his spine. Getting the memo, Harry grins and reclines on the pillows. His left side is flushed against Draco’s right, the kinks in his neck eased off from the angle. They, as per usual, gradually get closer to one another, and at some point, Draco lays his head on Harry’s chest and ear on his beating heart. It’s calming to him, Draco had said when Harry asked, on the third night of their honeymoon. With the war long behind them, there was nothing to fear. Only the constellations existed as their witnesses.

“You died, Harry,” he had whispered, full and tipsy. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen, despite all the shite I made you go through.

“You were so far away in Hagrid’s arms, I couldn’t see your face,” the night had been blinding, but his eyes had found Draco’s anyway. “It felt like my heart died with you.”

Harry had kissed his forehead and hugged him close. His heart had always been there for Draco to take.

“What’s up with the blanket fort?”

He has a lapful of Draco, a lungful of peach and cedar scented shampoo, and the sleepy timbre of his husband’s voice against his chest. The Italian movie is the last thing on Harry’s mind.

“I wasn’t aware of its existence growing up,” Draco says. “Having anything other than an immaculate bed when one wasn’t sleeping was uncouth, see, so you could imagine my surprise when Teddy demanded to play in something as messy as a fort so often.”

Harry doesn’t need to imagine it; he had witnessed it himself. Draco, freshly released from a two-year sentence in Azkaban, mellowed and tentative, yet determined to reconnect with his mother’s sister and his nephew. Harry had been wary too, standing in the corner of Teddy’s bedroom, staring at the fuzz of blonde on Draco’s shorn head and his weak gait. Teddy, the darling boy with his clumsy hold on Draco’s thigh, afraid that the haggard man would trip without help, had led him to his play area.

“Fort, fort,” the boy had screamed in Draco’s ear, but he hadn’t flinched. He had nodded and gone along with Teddy’s babbled directions, then sat back on his heels and fixed a wide-eyed stare at the monstrosity Teddy had called a fort (his designing skills were, unsurprisingly, underdeveloped at the mere age of two).

Swiveling his head, he had gawked at Harry, who had still been standing in the corner with his arms crossed, confusion and hysteria in the arch of his aristocratic brows.

It had been the first time he had looked at Harry in the eye for years. In seconds, it was 6th Year all over again, with him watching Draco pushing his food around with a fork from across the room, unable to look away. Obsession, a voice unlike Hermione’s helpfully defined, had slithered up and under his skin. It had remained there for years, stubborn and ardent, an emotion he had tried to leave behind time and time again. He’d never succeeded.

It’s Draco, after all.

“He never let anyone but him enter the fort, remember? Back when he’s still making us build it for him?” Draco’s fingers tap a random rhythm on Harry’s stomach. Harry tightens his arm around him, shifts a bit. “So many forts and I still didn’t know what it’s like to be in one.”

Somebody downs a shot in the movie. Harry doesn’t quite register it. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a proper one either until now. Didn’t have enough space in the cupboard. Plus, the hanging around the beds at Hogwarts felt pretty cozy by themselves.”

Draco hums. “Mhmm, I say. Another ‘first’ for us.”

Harry glances at the crown of his head. The man doesn’t sound surprised; Harry wagers that he already knows and decided to make one for the both of them today.

They continue to watch the movie in silence, whites and blues and purples flooding his sight, until Draco yawns and Harry blinks his eyes shut for far too long.

“Baby.”

“Hmm?”

“Sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Where, then? We have no bed.”

“I still maintain that I made the right choice”

“Jesus Christ, you’re so rash for an academic.”

“Well, in my professional opinion, sleeping in a blanket fort every blue moon does wonders for one’s quality of sleep,” Draco gets up on his elbow to smirk at Harry, “we can look at other beds tomorrow, can’t we? Now hush. Rest.”

“Ha,” Harry says, at least 5 more words to follow up on that just on the tip of his tongue. But then Draco runs a gentle hand through Harry’s hair, taking his time with it, the remaining hints of Harry’s migraine from work fading with every curl of hair carefully unknotted. He mumbles this and that, silly, insignificant things, engrossed in his task, and Harry listens carefully as his eyelids lower.

Draco takes off his gold-rimmed glasses (so sweet and soft Harry can barely feel it), cleans them and puts them on a chair. Through half-lidded eyes, Harry watches him cover them both with a quilt and return to Harry’s chest, curling up like a cat. Draco’s arm is around his midriff, peach and cedar pervading his senses anew, and Harry forgets whatever he was going to say.

Cold ankles pressed against bare calves, Harry is already deep asleep when the credits roll.

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #drarry fic #fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #blanket fort #oneshot #3k words #draco would be the type to get mushy mushy in private and call harry shit like lover darling my love #harry would say draco baby and babe everywhere #thats it hes uncreative like that #and draco wouldnt even care #both of their love languages are acts of service so draco doesnt need reassuring when he knows harry would burn cities for him #they love each other very ardently that simple gestures communicate entire sonnets #and theyre cool with that #good for them #joonkorre writes

33 notes · View notes

chickensarentcheap · 3 years

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone: Chapter 3

Title: Safe and Warm

Warnings: brief mention of child sexual abuse. Very brief.

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip

“You should have gotten these looked at BEFORE you came home.”

She sits on his stomach; knee on either side of his body and a bottle of peroxide, package of cotton balls, a pair of tweezers, and a tube of healing ointment rest on his chest. With all of the kids finally settled for the night and the house tidied and every last plate, cup and piece of silverware in the dishwasher, it’s finally their turn to relax. A quick soak in the hot tub while sipping drinks; one last glass of wine for her and a coffee for him. Still damp bodies clad in bathrobes as they sat on the couch; eating ice cream straight out of the carton while relaxing in front of the heat and ambiance given off by the gas fireplace. All conversation steering clear away from anything job related. Talking instead about Christmas and all the things that still need to be done; present wrapping, last minute gift grabbing, decorating. The kids also have jam packed ‘to do’ lists; skating, seeing the tree at Rockefeller, sledding, visiting Santa and the reindeer at Central Park. Christmas Day is spent with just the nine of them; the kids playing with their gifts and spending time outside, a traditional dinner that they’ve become quite the professionals at preparing together. The following day they’ll travel into Queens and spend the day with Ovi and Riya and their little family; two ‘grandkids’ that will be loved upon and spoiled senseless. New Years is usually spent quietly at home; takeout and alcoholic beverages and entertaining the kids with board games. This year plans have changed; Ovi’s wedding at The James New York in Soho.

As exciting as the latter is and as much as he does enjoy his time in New York City -the happiness and excitement evident on his wife and children’s faces more than enough to erase any of his own discomfort- it will be nice to get home. Back to their slice of paradise; the sun and the sand and the privacy and the feeling of security that comes with owning so much land. They’ll have a second Christmas; an informal get together with friends with a cookout on the beach and a ‘Secret Santa’ gift exchange. Work will be put on the back burner; no calls or emails from clients returned until the kids go back to school, the bookstore in good hands under the supervision of the two college students Esme had hired a year ago. Business has been good; exceeding even her wildest dreams and expectations. Already a well loved staple in Cooktown; customers loving the wide array of books and magazines, the outdoor courtyard and the comfortable couches and chairs allotted for those simply there to relax. Reading their purchases or the kindles set up for free use and indulging in the variety of cold and hot drinks and baked goods. The treats are mostly prepared by Tanner who has become quite the little chef and baker; finding his ‘place’ in the kitchen and never happier than when he’s creating some kind of dish or dessert from scratch. He’s also in charge of biweekly book reviews; picking a title to read and then preparing a well written report to go along with it. He’s become quite the local celebrity because of it; fan mail arriving on the daily from kids all over town and those who may have visited during family travels.

If anyone had told Tyler thirteen years ago that he’d even still be alive, let alone living THIS life, he would have told them they were insane. Laughing off the notion at ever being a husband and a father again; too much of a mess and certainly way too much of a liability for anyone to ever take a chance on. It’s weird how quick things can change. How one chance meeting with someone as equally broken and damaged as you can change the entire course of your future. Looking at you in ways that no one has ever has; willing to take on the enormous amounts of baggage and seeing past all your faults and your rough spots and jagged edges and giving you a future you never imagined even in your wildest dreams.

“There wasn’t a reason to get them looked after. They’re just scratches; branches getting a hold of me when I was in the bush.”

“Some of them are pretty deep. And I know you tried when you were in the shower, but there’s stuff stuck in some of them. Dirt or wood or something. Aren’t they sore?”

“They’re SCRATCHES. I’ve had a hell of a lot worse.”

“They’re a mess is what they are.” She picks up the tweezers; eyes narrowing as she leans over him and plucks pieces of debris out of one of the wounds. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t things supposed to go down in the city?”

“They did. In Laos.”

“I thought it was going to be the same in Cambodia. You let me read what Anil sent you. I’m pretty sure things were supposed to happen in Phnom Penh? How’d you end up going from there into the jungle?”

“There was a change of plans.”

She smirks. “Obviously.”

“You know how it is, things don’t always go the way we want.”

“I’d say nine times out of ten, they don’t. Seriously though, your face is a wreck. You should have gotten this all cleaned up hours ago. BEFORE you got on a plane home. What if they get infected? You don’t know what’s in that jungle. They could have some crazy poisonous plant life or something. What if you got into something like THAT?”

“I think it’s safe to say we’d know something like that by now. What are you so squeamish about? You’ve seen me in worse shape.”

“Now THAT’S an understatement. Have you ever thought I just don’t like seeing you banged up and scratched up? Have you ever thought maybe I’ve had just about enough of all of that? Can’t I nurse you back to health from something else for a change? Like...I don’t know...the man flu?”

“You always complain when I get sick. That I’m too needy.”

“I have never once said you’re too needy. I have, however, complained about how whiny you get. How you come down with a head cold and act like you’re dying. How do you go through the things you have and survive what you’ve survived, and think a cold will be the cause of your demise?”

“Hey, those colds get pretty bad.”

“Worse than…” Pausing, she sits straight up and drops the tweezers onto the bed, then soaks a cotton ball with peroxide. “...you know what? I’m not even going to finish that sentence because that will only bring bad juju. Talking about all of that? Revisiting it? Nothing good will come of that. And we need good juju, don’t you think?”

“Are you drunk?”

“Who? Me? No. Maybe. Just a little. Is a whole bottle of wine for oneself considered drunk?”

“For normal people, yeah. For you…”

“Look, I had a rough day. In fact, it’s been a brutal FOUR days. And right now? Well right now, I should be getting laid. Or at the very least, have my husband going down on me. And what I’m doing? Playing nursemaid. And not in a fun, sexy way either. Not the kind of playing nursemaid that comes with little outfits and orgasms.”

He grins. “You ARE drunk.”

“I’m just saying, I had other plans for this evening and picking pieces of the Cambodian jungle out of your face wasn’t part of it.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Mmm...hmmm…”

“And I’d rather be doing other stuff too, but…”

“But the shit hit the fan and everything got fucked up and you ended up doing God knows what, doing God knows where. I’m not even going to ask how it went. I think I’m scared to hear the answer. It was obviously a dumpster fire if you went from the capital city of Cambodia to the bowels of hell.”

“There were a couple...snags.”

She returns to the task of investigating and cleaning the various scratches that mar his face and neck. “Anil let on everything went great.”

“Probably just didn’t want to worry you.”

“Was there something for me to worry about?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned. I’ve been involved in way worse things. It was pretty straight forward. Two easy hits.”

“First one went okay?”

“Exactly the way it should have.”

“Second one?”

“I thought you weren’t going to ask?”

“You don’t want me asking?”

“I don’t care if you ask. You just said you weren’t going to because you were afraid of what you might hear.”

“Do I have anything to be afraid of?”

“Esme, seriously? Do you want to know or not? It wasn’t THAT bad. I’m here, aren’t I? In one piece?”

She nods.

“It honestly wasn't that big of a disaster. Things got a little fucked up. The second one didn’t go the way it should have. I had to make some decisions; change some shit around. The Mark wasn’t where he was supposed to be. I had to find out where he was and I had to figure out how to make things work.”

“Well good thing it WAS you that Anil asked. Because it probably would have been a lot worse. At least you know what you’re doing; you can think on your feet and stay calm and focused. A change like that? That would have thrown other people off. They probably wouldn’t have been able to get the second guy. They would have been too frazzled. That kind of change would have totally thrown them off.”

“Are you speaking highly of me, wife?”

“I am. I tend to speak very highly of you. All the time. To everyone. Even when I’m picking pieces of Cambodia out of your face.” She grabs the tweezers and unceremoniously inserts the tips into a large scratch at the side of his left eye; yanking out a piece of wood. “And it’s a nice face, by the way. So I don’t particularly like you coming home all messed up.”

“Like I said, I’ve had worse.”

“I will give you that.”

They lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence; his hands resting on her thighs as she continues to work at disinfecting and cleaning the scratches and her fingertips rub wound aftercare ointment into his skin. And he admires her as she does so. That steely look of determination on her face; lips set in a thin line and her eyes slightly narrowed and her hands steady yet gentle. And she looks so beautiful in that moment; in the mixture of moonlight and the glow given off by the bedside lamps. Hair pushed into a messy ‘up sweep’; held together by various clips -colourful and unicorn themed, ‘borrowed’ from Addie’s room- and bobby pins. Her face freshly cleaned and scrubbed; bearing the lingering scent of the grapefruit and pomegranate body wash she’d fallen in love with months ago. Clad in what she considers pyjamas; a faded and slightly tattered plaid button down shirt he’d worn during their Colorado days that is enormous on her tiny frame.

It’s been just over twelve years. Since he’d first laid eyes on her; standing on his front porch in The Kimberley in her little denim shorts and that yellow tank top that clung to her like a second skin. He’d known right away that he was in trouble; feeling things he hadn’t felt in a hell of a long time when she so much glanced in his direction and offered a small, almost nervous smile. And it would take him nearly ten years to admit what she’d probably known not long after their initial meeting: that his heart was hers from the very first day.

“You’re beautiful.” He says now, and a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

“Are YOU drunk?”

“I haven’t drank in five years. I’m truthful.”

“Maybe your eyesight is worse than you think,” she teases, and dabs a peroxide dampened cotton ball against the scratches on his forehead.

“Or maybe you just hate compliments. Even twelve years into things.”

“You know I don’t handle compliments well. Even now. I know that doesn’t make sense, considering we HAVE been together that long and you’re the master of compliments and sweet talk, but that’s just who I am. It’s just me.”

“I will break you yet.”

“You’ve been trying for over a decade. Same way you’ve been trying to make an honest woman out of me.”

“Come on, at least give me THAT. At least admit THAT was successful.”

“Fine…” she leans down to peck his lips. “I’ll let you have your small victories. You’re still going out tomorrow? With Tanner?”

He nods. “It’s our thing.”

“He’s so excited. He’s been talking about it non stop since we got here. Apparently he’s been writing a lot. He’s got A LOT to show you.”

“Yeah, he told me. Something about crazy dreams he’s been having. He’s so fucking smart, Me. Way smarter than I am. He’s got your brain pan for sure.”

“He is far more intelligent than I ever was at that age. His brain is just...I don’t know. It’s beautiful and it’s brilliant. And it’s kind of scary at the same time. I mean, he’s only ten. And look where he’s at. Not even a special school is a big enough challenge for him. He is so far ahead of all of those kids. What happens when he’s too far ahead? When that place doesn’t have what he needs anymore? Then what? He’s already reading at a high school senior level. And his math? His science? You’ve seen his marks. They’ve got him doing things that fourteen and fifteen year olds are learning. And he’s passing it all with flying colours. Soon they’re not going to have what he needs. What then?”

“We find somewhere else.”

“Where? There’s nothing where we are. And we’re not moving. We just aren’t. We’ve put way too much into that house and that land. And we love it too much. So do the kids. We can’t upset their lives like that.”

“We’ll figure something out. We’ll find something. Someone. There’s always a way, right? Isn’t that what you always tell me? Where there’s a will, there’s a way?”

“When I told you that I wasn’t expecting to have a genius child on my hands. And I know it sounds like I’m bitching. That it sounds like I’m not proud of him.”

“It doesn’t sound like that, Me. At all.”

“Because I am. Proud of him. He’s insanely smart and he’s beautiful and he’s just this incredible little being that I don’t feel I even deserve. But I’m scared. For him. Because he isn’t like everyone else. He never has been. And I know we should celebrate that and celebrate who he is and nurture it and encourage it. But it fucking terrifies me. Someone like Tanner out in the real world. Because he’s NOT like us. Or his brothers and sisters. Or ninety five percent of society. He’s sensitive and he’s kind and he has this huge heart. And I’m scared what’s going to happen to him. Just for being who he is.”

“He’s ten, Me. We have years before we have to worry about anything like that. It’s going to be a long time before he’s out of the house. He’s smart as hell, but you’re right; he’s not like everyone else. Maturity wise? He’s a lot younger. He’s not ten in a lot of ways. He’s going to be with us for a bit. Longer than the rest of them.”

“I just don't want him hating who he is. I don’t want him growing up and hating himself. He’s already told you that. About how he doesn’t like his brain and how it works. How he doesn’t like being different.”

“That’s mostly when he’s pissed that he can’t do the things that TJ does. Or because he’s so much smaller. He has his moments; where he wishes he was like his brother. Didn’t you have moments like that growing up? Wishing you could be someone different?”

“Of course. We all do. I’m sure you did.”

“Fuck, practically every damn day. He’s going to be fine, Me. He’s just a little boy. And he’ll be a little boy in some ways for longer. It is what it is. He’ll be okay. So will we.”

“You are so much better at this than I am,” Esme laments, and tends to screwing the cap onto the peroxide and moving all of the supplies and tools to the mattress. “You’re so much better with him. You have been since the very beginning. Who was the strong one when we got the diagnosis? Who was the one that DIDN’T go into a severe depression and the seven stages of grief? I mean, we suspected it and I STILL had a hard time. I’m his mother. And I struggled then and I’m struggling now. What kind of parent does that? FEELS that?”

“One that loves their kid more than life itself. Who worries about them and is scared for them because they know how fucking cruel the world can be.”

“You’ve just been so much better than I have. You’ve handled it better. Me? I’m just a mess. And not a hot one either.”

“I think you’re way too hard on yourself. You’re a good mom. You’re an amazing mom. Just because you’re having a hard time with this doesn’t mean you’re a shitty parent. Just means you love him.”

“I do. Love him. He’s my Nugget. And I hate that he struggles. That he doubts himself. That he shit talks himself sometimes.”

“Gee, I wonder where he gets THAT from.”

Smirking, she picks up the tweezers and points them at him. “Don’t make me stick these in your eye.”

“I’m just saying…” he plucks the instrument from her hand and tosses it onto the bedside table, then reaches up to push loose strands of her away from her face. “...he does get some things from you. And you do like to shit talk yourself.”

“I’m working on it.”

“For the last twelve years?”

“So I’m a slow learner. Slow and steady wins the race, right? Why are you like this?”

His calloused palms rest on the sides of her face; thumbs brushing along the tops of her cheekbones. “Like what?”

“So good to me. Why are you like that?”

“Oh I don’t know, Me. Might have to do with the fact that you’re my wife and the mother of my children. My SEVEN children. And maybe...just maybe...it has something to do with the fact that I’m wildly and crazily in love with you.”

“Still? Even after twelve years?”

“Even MORE after twelve years. More and more every day, actually.”

“God I love you,” she declares, then stretches out along his body and buries her face in the favourite place of hers; the warm nook between neck and shoulder. “I love you so much. More than I could ever tell you.”

Pressing a kiss to her temple, he wraps both arms around her slender body. “Ditto.”

She laughs at his response; placing a kiss to the sensitive spot below his ear and then pushes her fingers through his hair. It’s longer now. Often messy and often unruly; sides and back no longer shaved right down to the skin. She claims it’s her second favourite look of his; liking the fact that there’s something to ‘grab onto’ during more intimate moments.

He feels the tickle or her lashes as her eyes flicker closed, followed by the long, content sigh that she releases. And for several long minutes they lay in silence, one of his hands moving up to comb through her hair, the other slipping under the hem of her shirt; knuckles repeatedly skimming up and down her spine.

“Me?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is muffled against the side of his neck.

“Don’t take this the wrong way. I really DO like snuggling with you and all that. But right now? Right now I’m really horny and I really want to fuck.”

Laughing, she playfully tugs on his hair and pulls back to look at him. “Husband, you’re nothing if not brutally honest.”

“Wanna have sex?”

Grinning, she leans in to press a kiss to his lips. “Actually,” she says. “I do.”

****

They lay in a tangled mess of wrinkled sheets and sweaty limbs; listening to the wind that rattles the windows and the soft patter of ice pellets and snow against the glass. Both on their sides with her back tucked into his front; her nails lightly and repeatedly skimming along the forearm that rests just under her breasts. His breath is warm against the nape of her neck and she enjoys the different sensations against her skin; the juxtaposition of soft, moist lips and the roughness of his beard. He wears it much shorter now; neatly trimmed and groomed and a far cry from the ‘lumberjack days’ when they’d lived in Colorado. Back when his body was thicker; extra weight around the middle and his muscles more bulky. He’s much more defined now. Tall and lean and athletic; broad shoulders and wide back, a sharp cut to his waist and beautifully detailed abs.

Forty seven years old and he’s in the best shape he’s ever been; a near mirror image of what he’d looked like at thirty five when they’d first met. She remembers that day well. Glancing up from where she’d crouched down on the porch to shower attention on his dog and finding those blue eyes riveted on her; intense and electric and filled with both curiosity and thinly veiled annoyance. He wasn’t used to company, and certainly didn’t seem to like the idea of a complete stranger being brought straight to his doorstep.

Nik had told her just the bare minimum; ex special forces, a host of personal baggage and addiction issues, intense and withdrawn at his best. But word travels when you’re in the ‘circle’; the job a relatively tight knit considering the amount of people caught up in it and the number of countries that are serviced. She’d heard the stories; tales of fearlessness and brutality and exceptional skills. And while she’d thought Nik’s idea was ridiculous and that it would never work, she’d been intrigued as well; wanting to put a face to the name and to all the rumours and the whispers she’d been subjected to. Other than his towering height and those muscles that strained under the sleeves of his shirt and the host of tattoos and scars, he hadn’t been that intimidating; offering just a brief twitch of the lips in lieu of a smile, his hand engulfing hers when he quickly and willing shook it in greeting. There was something welcoming about him despite the lack of conversation; opening up a little as soon as Nik stepped outside and offering her a drink. Those eyes ever so slightly sparkling and a small smirk on his lips when she’d downed the glass of scotch; making a comment about being surprised a ‘wee thing like her’ could handle her liquor so well and then pouring her another. Even chuckling a little when she’d commented on his place of residence; modest and simple, a chicken probably a far better roommate than any human she’d ever shared living quarters with.

Things had actually started during the two day stay just outside of Dhaka; a high end hotel that Nik had procured for final team meetings and strategy sessions. Meeting up -by sheer chance and not by plan- at the establishment's bar; sharing both a table out on the patio and pitcher of beer and tray full of tequila shots. There’d also been a kiss. Or, as close to a kiss as you could get. When he’d walked her back to her room and they’d stood in the hallway; slightly inebriated and suddenly somewhat anxious and nervous around each other. Dinner had been casual and comfortable. He’d smiled and even laughed and teased her about being a total enigma; so small and delicate looking despite her time in the Corps and having such a reputation for being tenacious and no nonsense. They had shared stories of growing up in Colorado and Australia and he’d been relatively talkative; either encouraged by her own openness and chattiness or the mixture of the booze he’d consumed and the meds he’d taken. Yet suddenly they were both at a loss for words and things seemed awkward and uncomfortable, and she’d stuttered and stammered while asking him if he’d like to join her inside and then furiously blushing when he’d exactly accepted.

She can still remember what it had felt like; when she’d drunkenly teetered and stumbled when attempting to unlock her door and his arm had curled around her waist to keep her on her feet. His body had been warm and solid against hers; breath hot and moist on the back of her neck. His eyes had been locked on hers when she turned to face him, heart hammering in her chest as he leaned in to kiss her. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man. Even something so simple as a kiss. And it had been even longer since she’d wanted someone that badly; physically aching and desperate to feel his hands and his mouth on her.

But it had never happened. In a brief moment of clarity, he’d backed away. Doing nothing more than pushing her hair behind her ears before backing away.

“I can’t do this,” he’d said. “I can’t do this to you.”

They never spoke of that moment again. Not even when things had crossed that line in Dhaka. It’s been just over twelve years and neither have brought it up. It didn’t matter anymore; the awkwardness they’d felt, the glimmer of life that she’d seen in his eyes, the words that he’d uttered. Things had changed. Drastically. Marriage and children and a somewhat happily ever after.

His free arm slips between her and the mattress. Coming to rest along her collarbone; fingers splayed over the top of her right breast, thumb repeatedly brushing along the hollow of her throat. “You alright?”

Smiling, she pushes her fingers through his and moves their joined hands down to her stomach. “More than alright. You? You okay?”

“I’m good. Is that what you wanted? Did I live up to your expectations?”

“Exceeded them, actually. I continue to be impressed by you. Your track record for incredible sex is almost a hundred percent.”

He raises his head from his pillow. “Almost?”

“You keep forgetting about that time after Kyle’s bachelor party. When you were drunk. When you got off and I didn’t and then had the goddamn gall to pass out. On top of me. Your poor little wife that’s a foot shorter and at that time, over a hundred pounds lighter.”

“Not one of my finer moments,” he agrees, and presses a kiss to her cheek. “I haven’t made up for it? It’s been ten years since that. I haven’t made amends yet?”

“You’re getting there,” she teases, and then yelps and giggles when his teeth sink into her shoulder. “By the way, I think the neighbour knows you’re here.”

“You know what I’m surprised about? That the kids didn’t wake up.”

“Maybe they’ve gotten so used to it, they just sleep through it now.”

“Or maybe they’re hiding under their covers, totally traumatized.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t be so good at what you do. Maybe you shouldn’t be the king of multiple orgasms. Screaming ones at that.”

“You’d rather I didn’t get you off at all?”

“Don’t get carried away. We don’t need to go to THAT big of an extreme.”

“We can resort back to a pillow over the face. Or my hand over your mouth.”

“Remember that time in Dhaka? When the people in the next room complained to the manager about the noise? He was so embarrassed; when he came up to our room.”

“I do. And I remember the first time we went to Phuket. I never introduced myself to the people in the next suite, but they seemed to know my first name.”

“They were just jealous. I guess neither of them ever experienced really good sex. And speaking of which; we’re going to have to change the sheets before we go to sleep.”

“You can sleep on that part. That’s YOUR wet spot. On YOUR side of the bed.”

“You’re the one who made it happen. You should be the one to clean up the mess.”

He grins against the nape of her neck. “It’s a good mess though.”

“A very good mess,” she says, and then rolls over to face him; pressing herself tightly against his chest and reaching up to push her fingers through his hair. “You alright?”

“Fine. Why?” He skims her fingertips along the length of her spine; pausing to trace the tattoo that decorates the small of her back before moving back up again. “Didn’t it seem like I was alright? Did I seem like I wasn’t having fun?”

“I can tell something’s wrong. You’re different; during sex. When something is bothering you, you do things differently. Not in a BAD way. Just in a different way. You’re more aggressive. Rougher than usual.”

“You okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No. You never do. It was perfect. YOU were perfect. It was just...different. You were different. I’ve been with you for twelve years. It’s one of the signs I’ve come to recognize; one of the things that change when something is bugging you.”

Tyler grins. “You’re good.”

“Are you going to tell me? What’s going on? You want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” he admits, and then presses a kiss to her forehead before rolling over onto his back.

“I think you should.” Esme slides closer to him, propping herself up onto her elbow. “I think it’s good for you; talking about things that bother you. We’ve learned over the last twelve years, right? That things are better...that WE’RE better...when you don’t keep shit inside.”

Sighing heavily, he runs both hands over his face; wincing at the discomfort in both back and shoulder when he puts his hands behind his head.

“Is that what is? Pain? Did you get hurt? Do you need more meds? Do you…?”

“No pain. Just some tightness. I don’t need any more meds. I’m fine.”

“Did you take them while you were gone? ALL of them?”

“Babe, I’ve been taking them for five years. I wouldn’t fuck it up now.”

“I’m not saying you would. I’m just worried about you. I know something is wrong and I know it’s better for you NOT to keep quiet about it. So tell me. Please. Do your wife a solid and talk to her.”

“Didn’t I just slip you a solid? Twice?”

She scowls. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s nothing. Me. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“I’m sorry, but this is something involving you and I worry about you. Don’t do this, okay? Let’s not get back into old habits. I know you don’t want that. Just like I don’t want it. Tell me. Please.”

He sighs once more, briefly closing his eyes.

“Is it the job?” Gentle fingertips trace the roman numeral tattoo on the front of his right shoulder. “ Did something go wrong? Other than a change in venue?”

“No. Other than that, things went fine.”

“But it IS about the job.”

Tyler nods.

“I’m not a mind reader, babe. I’m good, but I’m not THAT good. Something DID go wrong, didn’t it.”

“No. Nothing went wrong. It’s just...the people...the Marks.”

“They didn’t die or…?”

“Oh they died. You don’t survive a gunshot in the middle of the forehead.”

“So other than the chance of scenery, nothing went wrong and both Marks died but..”

“It’s who they were. Why they had to be killed. Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“I do. Because it’s bothering you and I don’t want you carrying that around. That’s never a good thing; you burying things. So yes. I want to hear it. You didn’t tell me much before you left; just that they were pieces of shit and they needed to be wiped out. Other than that…”

“They were the lowest of the low, Me. You can’t get lower than these guys. And I’ve dealt with some pretty huge pieces of shit. These guys? Worst I’ve ever gone against. By far.”

“Worse than Asif and Mahajan?”

“Considering how personal they made things and what they were going to do to my family, no one is worse than them. But if I take the personal stuff out of it, these guys are up there.”

“That doesn’t sound too promising. I didn’t think anyone could come close to those two.”

“The guns and the drugs? That shit was bad enough. They destroyed a lot of lives; killed a lot of people. But the shit I found AFTER I got there? About these guys? About other things they were up to? It’s fucked, Me. It’s fucked and it’s sick and twisted and I don’t think you need to know about it.”

“Well I think I do. You don’t have to shoulder this alone. It’s better if you don’t. Just tell me. I have big shoulders. Well, maybe not LITERALLY. What did you hear? About them?”

“Babe…”

“Tyler, tell me. Don’t do this. Not if you have plans on getting laid the rest of the time we’re here.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh I would. I’m not afraid to pull out the big guns. So either you tell me, or you suffer. Simple as that.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Tell me.” She presses a kiss to his lips. “Please.”

“When I got there and talked to the guy who hired Anil, things got worse. The Marks were even bigger pieces of shit than I thought. They’d both been married a handful of times. And put each one of their wives in the hospital. More than twice. A couple of them even ended up dead. There was never any proof that these guys did it, but…”

“But it’s pretty obvious.”

Tyler nods. “And then I heard about the kids. Not just kids they didn’t know. But kids related to them. Cousins, nieces, nephews. Their OWN kids.”

“Just beaten on them or…?”

“No. Not just beating on them. That’s bad enough. But this?”

“Sexual stuff.”

“Yeah. Sexual stuff.”

“Wow..” she sighs heavily, a fingertip skimming along the chain he wears around his neck. “...that IS the lowest of the low.”

“It just hit home. HARD. Made me think of you and the kids. Made being away from home a lot more difficult. And it was difficult enough already.”

“I’m sorry. That you had to hear all of that. But for it’s worth, I’m glad it’s you that took care of them. Anyone else ran the risk of screwing shit up. At least when you do things, you finish them That’s a bright spot, right? That you DID get to be the one?”

“Yeah, I guess. Just fucked me up. Mentally. Made me think of our kids. I swear to God, Me. If anything like that ever happens to them...if I ever find out that someone has touched them like that? I will fucking lose it. I will snap and I will fuck them up. I will torture them in all the worst ways possible. The most painful ways I know how. And then I’ll kill them. With my bare hands. If anyone ever messes with my kids…”

“Don’t think about that, Tyler. Don’t torture yourself like that. I mean, I think about it too. From time to time. And how I’d go nuts and kill someone. But don’t dwell on it, okay? Because our kids are fine. They’re warm and they're safe in their beds. And they always will be safe as long as you’re around. You know I always say you make me feel safe and protected? Well you do the same for them. You always have. Don’t ever doubt that, okay? They love you and they trust you. And you’re an amazing daddy.”

“I just want them to be safe. That’s all I want. Them safe. YOU safe.”

“And we ARE. Safe. As long as we’re with you, we’re fine. We don’t worry about a damn thing when you’re around. So please…” Esme presses a kiss to his cheek and nuzzles the end of her nose against his ear. “...no more dwelling. You got it out; you talked about it. You don’t need to think about it anymore.”

Running his hand through her hair, he tangles his fingers in the dark tresses and gently pulls her head back; lips covering hers in a long, slow kiss.

“Mmm…” she murmurs into his mouth, then sighs happily when he pulls away. “...that was...nice.”

“That was very nice.”

“You think you have one more in you? I still have some expectations that need to be met.”

“I think I can manage.”

“Good.” She throws her arms around his neck and rolls onto her back, kissing him hungrily as she pulls him down on top of her. Nails digging into his skin and her legs wrapping around his waist; ankles locking at the small of his back and a devilish grin playing on her lips when he pulls back to look at her. “Husband, you need to make love to me again.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

9 notes · View notes

miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

Young Just us college au

Rent a room, Dick said. It’ll be a nice experience. Don’t just buy a flat, that’s boring and lonely.

Tim had tried to tell his brother that maybe he prefered lonely to crazy, but Dick had insisted. And everyone knew just how difficult dealing with that could be, so he knew better than to resist.

At least, he had tried to comfort himself, he knew the people he’d be rooming with. They were all his friends, an odd assortment of assholes he’d picked up on school, summer camps, vacation trips, scientific events, even comic cons, and just… fell platonically in love with them.

Maybe, as Dick said, it would be fine.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

No, it wasn’t fine.

-Jay -he whispered into the phone, hoping he wouldn't be heard by the others on the other side of the door- Jay, they are crazy. I need extraction asap. We could fake my death and I can go to University somewhere else.

The older man laughed in the other end of the receiver, the sound of pages rustling indicating Tim had caught him during his daily grading paper sesion. That was the sound of crying students dying over carefully demolished arguments.

-They are all your friends, Timbo. If you fake your death, you’ll need to start over again and meet new people.

Tim hissed.

-Exactly, babybird. Also, this is day one of sharing a house, how bad can it possibly be?

-Jay, they left the kitchen lights on. It’s daytime! Why the hell do they need the lights on? Aren’t they aware of how big the bill is gonna be if they are like this?

-...Timmy, you… you are a billionaire. I think that should be the last of your concerns.

-That’s not the only thing. It’s so noisy, Jay. I choose the attic room hoping it’ll be nice and quiet. It’s not. I can hear everything. What do I do if some of them pair up? I’ll be stuck here listening to them having sex forever!

-...I don’t know where to begin.

-You can start by contacting B for me. He was right when he said it wasn’t a good idea for me to live with other people. But I can’t call him to help me out of this, because I think Dick blocked my number in his phone, and my emails don’t seem to be reaching him.

-He said it because you are the purest of his children, and he knew college was corruptive enough without adding dorm sharing to it; that was his version of helicopter parenting. But Timbo, it’s moving day. You’ve been there for less than five hours. And you already emailed B?

-The first thing Slobo did when he came in was to fart. In the middle of the living room. I can’t live with them, they are animals!

-They are your best friends, you’ve known them forever.

-But I never had to deal with them in a closed space for an unlimited amount of time!!! I’m trapped here.

-...

-...!

-...Are you hiding in a closet?

-...no. That would be stupid, in a three story house where I have my own/

-You are, ain’tcha?

-I am. Please help me?

Long sigh- I’ll meet you for coffee on the place near the Economics building so you have an excuse to be out for the evening while the others finish their moving. You’re done with your part, right?

-Yes! Thank you!

-You owe me.

-Next time Dick wants bonding time, I’ll sacrifice myself volunteering so you can run.

-And this is why you’re my favorite. Be there in ten.

-.-.-.-.-.-

-Tim? Tim! Here you are!

Blinking was a thing Tim suddenly remembered he needed to do, and he did it a few times as his eyes were dragged away from his book by a pair of hands on his cheeks.

-Kon? What are you doing in the library?

The other boy was panting slightly, flushed from what Tim guessed was a desperate run there.

-I was looking for you! You never came back after classes were done for the day, and you didn’t pick up your phone. We were very worried, dude.

-I was just studying, chill.

-It’s almost midnight.

No, it couldn’t be.

-No, it isn’t. I haven’t been here that long.

Serious and slightly worried, Conner thrusted his own phone in Tim’s face and… uh. Look at that. It was nearly midnight.

-Oh. Got distracted with research, sorry.

-It’s been barely two weeks, how much can you possibly need to study?

Unprompted, Kon started to help him pack his books and papers. He seemed utterly amazed by the almost illegible graphs and charts.

-No, this isn’t homework. I’m working on a thing for WE…

The rest of the way home was spent with Tim talking Conner’s ear off about shit he had absolutely no idea about, but didn’t complain, just holding Tim’s backpack with one hand while steering his sleep deprived friend back home with the other.

-.-.-.-.-.

-Bart? -Tim yawned, getting into the kitchen and raising a confused eyebrow at his friend- It’s… three am. What are you doing awake?

-Stress baking -the smaller boy replied, never stopping stirring the bowl- You?

-Papers and presentations.

-Classes or WE?

-Bit of both. What are you making?

-Cupcakes. Want some?

-They’ll go great with coffee, thanks.

They spent the next half hour waiting for the oven to do its magic talking about video games, classes and evil teachers.

-Your brother is the worst. TA. Ever. He always grades my papers and he’s a bitch about them.

-He relishes in the pain. It’s what keeps him young. I swear he never grew past fifteen.

-It’s scary, and honestly so annoying. Like, I get pointing out mistakes, but he doesn’t need to be a passive aggressive ass about it.

-I’ll let him know what you think.

-Please don’t. I’m afraid of him, and the power he holds in his hands. The power to make me fail Creative Writing.

-Why are you even taking that class? Actually, what even is your major?

A shrug, and before Bart could open his mouth to reply, the timer let them know the cupcakes where done.

-You can have one before bedtime, dude. The circles under your eyes look like make up at this point.

-You are one to talk, mister Stress Baking at Three in the Morning.

-But unlike you, I don’t have to be up at the ass of dawn. C’mon, have one of these and back up you go.

-Bite me.

-I’d rather bite this peanut butter miracle, but if you insist…

-No! Bart, get away from me!

-Then go to bed!

-Go to hell!

-I AM in hell! I have Jason Fucking Todd as my TA!

-IF YOU DON’T GO BACK TO BED RIGHT NOW, I’LL KICK YOU BOTH ALL THE WAY THERE! -Cassie’s voice echoed in the walls, and they both blanched at the reminder that her room was, in fact, in ground floor.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A part of college Tim had never considered, let alone readied himself for, was the… party bit.

-What do you mean, of course you’re coming -laughed Anita, clutches firm on Tim’s sleeve as she dragged him into hers and Cassie’s room.

-No, I have to study for…

-You don’t have any midterm or final this week. I know, because I checked. No papers due either. This is literally the perfect time for you to party.

-I can’t, I…

-Suck at socializing? Yeah, cher, I’m aware. That’s why awesome me is taking you as my plus one for this party. No need to thank me, glad to be your social buffer whenever you need me.

Tim started to resist in earnest when they got into the room and he caught a glimpse of the clothing Anita had apparently chosen for him.

-There’s no way I’m fitting into those pants! Let me go!

-I’ve seen you squeezing your butt into the vent that one time when Kon threw the key to the coffee maker cabinet inside it. If you could get in there, these pants are a piece of cake.

-No!

-Don’t make me hurt you, Drake.

-Anita…!

-Ugh! -she stopped, dropping Tim on her bed and crossing her arms. She averted her eyes- My ex is gonna be at the party. I might have been exaggerating a bit when I said I was over him, but I already promised my friends I was gonna be there. I… could really use your help here. I know it’s not your scene, but Kon and Bart have midterms, Slobo would straight up punch my ex with his astounding lack of subtlety, Miguel is away dealing with family stuff, and the girls are awesome but not really what I need right now.

A pause.

-Okay, but I’m absolutely not putting on that crop top. And we better not end up wasted, I have a reputation to uphold.

Spoiler alert: he did put on the crop top. And they had to call Conner to walk them home after the third time Tim walked into a lamp post and Anita fell into the campus’ pond.

-.-.-.-.-

They were walking back home late on a Friday when they were approached by a group of stupid, drunk dudebros. Tim was already dreading the moments to come before they even spoke, just by the way they kept eyeing Cassie’s legs and Anita’s rack. Cissie herself was wearing loose pants and a sweater, so she was safe from their disgusting examination. Not that it kept her from crossing her arms and looking down at the assholes.

-Heyyyyy, ladies. Wanna go clubbing with us?

Tim shrugged- He’s talking to you, girls. I’m out. Have fun.

Cassie caught him by his hoodie before he could take a single step. He heard her warning clear as day and sighed, defeated.

-Yess, you can go -slurred Dudebro number two, waving him away- There’ three of us, and three of those pretty things. You can get lost.

-See, Cass? Hear the gentlemen. You don’t need me here.

Anita kicked him in the shin.

-No. We just got our nails done. You either solve this peacefully, or take care of it if it turns dirty. Why do you even walk us home if not to protect us from creepers like these?

A loud ‘hey’ came from the dudebros, but Tim ignored them. Silently, he pointed at Cassie’s legs (he had seen her crushing a watermelon between them once), Cissie’s arms (a thing of beauty that made multiple lesbians all around campus cry) and Anita’s katana (that she wasn’t supposed to keep on her person around other students, but who was gonna enforce any rules on the girl with the giant knife?).

-Excuse me? You three should be protecting me. I’m a rich, sheltered boy.

Apparently done being ignored, the three idiots decided this was a good time to throw the first punch. Which Tim dodged, without breaking eye contact with Cassie. She raised her eyebrow, not moving an inch. Cissie was examining her nails. Anita’s eyes promised hell.

He sighed, turned around, caught the second coming punch, and used the hand under his palm to force the dudebro to his knees. A knee to the face and then he turned to the other two.

Next time, Slobo was walking with them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Flip side: the attic room had its own bathroom. Significantly smaller than the ones on the other two floors, but hey, no sharing.

The downside: apparently, the bathroom vents all connected with one another, and because of their aligning schedules, he often took showers at the same time Miguel did.

Flip side: Miguel had the singing voice of an angel, and the acoustic was fantastic. Showers were rarely boring now.

Downside again: Tim often forgot himself and sang along, but his voice… wasn’t as pretty.

Flip side again: at least, judging by Miguel’s smile, he found it adorable rather than pathetic.

Downside number three: Greta and Cissie’s room, by some unsolved mystery, also had connecting vents to the bathroom, and the archer girl was… less charitable about Tim’s inability to sing.

Flip side: Greta liked him better than most of their house mates, and she had more than enough dirt on Cissie to keep her from sharing the secret of Tim’s awful voice.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-Hey, baby bird. Sorry I’m calling just now, it’s been a while.

-Hey Jay. Don’t worry, you’re busy grading papers.

-How do you know?

-Bart was crying in the tub this morning. Completely clothed and eating nachos with whipped cream, I might add.

-What is that boy even studying? I know he has Chem classes, Roy is his TA, and Kory saw him in the designer’s building.

-That is an unsolved mystery for the ages.

-Hey, speaking of your housemates, how’s it going?

Tim stopped on his way out of the kitchen, eyes growing fond as he examined the group on the living room. They were fighting over that night’s movie choice. He didn’t know why they tried, Greta was gonna win. Nobody could resist her and Miguel’s puppy eyes.

-It’s… it’s been great, actually.

-Uh huh.

-But don’t tell Dick. He’ll be unbearably smug.

-Of course I won’t. You still have that time I crashed B’s favorite car on me.

-Oh, Oh fuck! -came Slobo’s voice- TIM, BRING THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!

A loud crash. Tim winced, eyes leaving his friend in favor of the wall. If he didn’t see it, it wasn’t happening.

-TIM, BUD, WE NEED SOME HELP HERE!

-...what was that, Timbo?

-Nothing.

-TIM, TIM, THE TV IS ON FIRE!!! COME QUICKLY BEFORE IT REACHES THE XBOX OR SO HELP ME GOD I’M MURDERING EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM!

-...Tim?

-Don’t tell B.

-Gotcha. Going to save their lives?

-More like hiding in my room until they sort themselves out or die. Good luck on those papers.

-Good luck on surviving.

123 notes · View notes

himbeaux-on-ice · 3 years

Note

Sorry! Lehner had around a 10 minute rant today about how he feels like the NHL lied to the players about loosening up the restrictions placed on teams and forced teams to get the Covid Vaccine. ESPN and the New York Post released an article about it today.

(this is a follow-up on this ask)

Ah okay, I found a TSN article about it, which covers the fact that he also apologized for some of his remarks (mainly comparing the restrictions to being “like prison” which is a bit cringe when you’re a millionaire in a free hotel, yeah), and also significantly clarified some of the intent behind what he was trying to say at the presser:

I’m gonna put my full thoughts this under a cut because it’s ended up running pretty long and rambly, but tl;dr: after considering his more precisely clarified points here and with the perspective I know he’s coming from, I can honestly see and empathize with what Lehner seems to be expressing here about how the NHL has chosen to handle player vaccinations and informing them about what that means for the restrictions on their lives, and I actually don’t disagree with his criticisms overall. Some of the phrasing could have been better, but he’s acknowledged that too.

All in all, it sounds like the NHL may have done a poor job of honestly managing expectations around what vaccine rollout would mean for the extra restrictions placed on the players and their families with each team, and that they’re also up to some version of their usual NHL schtick of prioritizing some platonic ideal of Competitive Parity (remember “the Vancouver Canucks will play a 56 game season”, anyone?) above all else, even when that is no longer realistic and/or comes at the expense of the short-term and long-term mental and physical wellbeing of the players. Classic NHL.

Right, so, long thoughts are down here. Also gonna copy the majority of his comments directly because I think it’s worthwhile for people to read exactly what he said:

"As I’m frustrated like a lot of people in the world right now everything didn’t come out of today’s press in the right way," Lehner wrote. "Main point is that we need to start take the mental health important as well In this situation. It has a huge impact on everyone in society right now. To put competitive edge before well being of people's lives is wrong. As I said, people are struggling with many different things mentally and we need to consider that, as well. Then, being lied to makes it worse."

I love hockey and the league has done a lot of good things," Lehner continued. "But this missed the mark. My bad to say it’s like prison and I apologize, but with mental health issues that are developing in the world, it develops problems mentally. We will see exactly how this affects everything with time. I don’t mean to offend anyone. I hope we can all work together to help people that suffer through mental help from this going forward. I’ve heard how a lot of people are doing through this as people talk to me about it."

During his briefing, Lehner said that the league has misled the players about how vaccination will lead to the loosening of restrictions.

"They told me yesterday that they're surveying all of the teams to see who has taken the vaccine and who has not taken the vaccine and they're not going to change the rules for us as players until all of the teams have a fair [amount] of [vaccinated players] at the same time, so there's not a competitive edge," Lehner said. "And that made me go crazy, to be honest."

Lehner said the league is failing to look at its players as people first and lied to them about taking the vaccine.

"These are human lives and people are struggling with this stuff a lot in society and we are humans just as everyone else," Lehner said. "So there's a twofold problem for me here - the first one is we got promised something to take something that not necessarily everyone wanted. So that was lie - a blatant lie. Second, to put competitive edge over human lives in terms of going back - and I'm not saying we're going out to a party or whatever, but we had a meeting when the season started, at the beginning of camp, that pretty much told us we can't go outside of our house, can't do anything, can't go to the grocery store, can do nothing on the road. You can take a meal out of the meal room and go sit up in your room, don't be with your teammates, don't do this, don't do that. Nobody thinks about the mental impact."

The Gothenburg, Sweden native says his peers are struggling through this pandemic season.

"I know people will say, 'Oh, you're millionaires' and this and that or 'What about these guys?' but we care about that, too, man," Lehner said. "No matter what people think, this is a society problem. But when government, corporations, NHL, whoever are taking decisions in terms of irrelevant things like competitive edge over the human being? It's not okay."

It seems pretty clear to me from this article that his main issue isn’t really with getting the vaccine or being required to do so (my understanding is that it is still opt-in for all players, not mandatory. It’s that he doesn’t view the League as having provided players with a realistic expectation ahead of time for how being vaccinated would or would not change their daily reality. That they were led to believe that getting vaccinated would lead to things that didn’t end up happening, and therefore weren’t empowered to make an informed choice about when to get vaccinated.

The way he describes it, the League was not clear enough ahead of time about the fact that individual players being vaccinated would not make them individually exempt from league-wide restrictions, and this created a feeling of false hope about what getting vaccinated would mean in terms of not just having to stay in your house or hotel room literally all the time. If you were looking forward to getting vaccinated because you were led to believe it would mean finally not having to live in that isolated, mentally draining environment all the time, and then only found out at the last minute or after the fact that no, you actually still have to keep following all these rules that are making your life so isolated and difficult, that’s gotta be pretty emotionally jarring. If you were a player who was a little unsure about getting vaccinated quite yet (for whatever reason, including possibly being in a risk group for side-effects or just not wanting to get waylaid for a week with the smile symptoms it induces during a crucial stretch of games), but decided it was worth it for the tradeoff of getting back to a life that was less of a strain on your mental health, and then got told AFTER you made that decision and got the shot that no, that tradeoff isn’t happening the way you were made to expect it to, I think it would understandably piss you off.

It also sounds like part of what he has taken issue with is that, from the sounds of it rather than ease internal restrictions on a team-by-team basis as determined by each team’s vaccination rates (which would mean that if for example the Wild had 95% of their team vaccinated, the Wild only the Wild would get to start living a life with slightly less restrictions), the League is instead opting to say “no, we’re only going to ease the rules for EVERYONE at the same time once all teams have reached similar numbers of vaccinated players and staff to ea other, because we would see having different rules for different teams as giving some of them an unfair competitive edge”.

Lehner takes umbrage with this approach, because he thinks that focusing solely on “competitive edge” by making more-vaccinated teams keep having to live incredibly isolated lives (even isolated from vaccinated teammates) is a case of the League prioritizing parity over the toll that barely being able to interact with other people or leave their houses is taking on players’ mental health. And I can really really understand his point here. We have all seen what quarantine has done to our individual mental health, and even if they are millionaires, those impacts also exist for the players.

I actually just recently re-read the Athletic piece about the intense mental health and addiction struggles Lehner has gone through and done the incredibly difficult work of getting help for in the last five years. This man has fought incredibly hard and done a massive amount of therapy and other work to sort out his head, deal with his demons, and get himself to a place where he can cope and wants to be alive. That kind of recovery journey is a battle which will continue for the rest of your life and requires constant maintenance practices (again, speaking from experience). He also spent most of this season not even getting to be around the team at all, stuck at home recovering from a concussion (which usually involves doing frustratingly little and waiting around impatiently in dimly lit rooms for your brain to heal). And now, upon returning to the team, road games mean more time spent sitting in a room trying not to be bored out of your skull, while possibly also having to have some limits on things like screen time as a post-concussion precaution.

Imagine being somebody like him, who has spent a lot of time working very hard to build up a lifestyle and a system of coping mechanisms in recent years which have allowed him to live a healthier and happier life, to then be thrown back into an isolated and highly restricted new lifestyle where probably at least half of all those habits and norms and support systems are taken out of reach, that has to be incredibly difficult (I’ve experienced something similar myself this year). Especially when you haven’t been able to even go and be with the team in the dressing room, or probably even do anything with your family that classes above “mildly strenuous”, because you’re out for six weeks recovering from a concussion, which is its own mental and physical health battle. And then, you are apparently given the impression from the League that “hey, if you’re willing to get vaccinated, that will lead to you being able to return to some semblance of a life that is less taxing on your psyche”, and you agreed to do so even if you were perhaps cautious about getting the vaccine before, because you’d rather accept whatever risk comes with the shot than gamble on keeping your sanity together for however much longer this isolation drags on, only to then find out that “actually no, even if your team and staff is entirely vaccinated you still have to spend most of your time sitting alone in rooms trying not to sink into a spiral of dangerous depression until other teams in other states with different vaccination programs are also immunized to similar levels, and our only real reasoning for holding that mental relief out of reach is mostly based on ‘competitive parity’”.

Yeah, I absolutely understand why he would feel very frustrated and even betrayed by that course of action! For Lehner, it’s not about competitive edges or the game on the ice, it’s about having made the decision to get vaccinated at this time with the understanding that it would allow access to an at least slightly less mentally taxing lifestyle, only to find out later that the League seemingly never intended to follow through on providing that despite you holding up your end of the deal. And it sounds like he is speaking for a number of other players beyond just himself who are also struggling with their mental health in these conditions. Even if he himself is managing to cope because of what he’s learned in his recovery, he would certainly be well-positioned to recognize signs in the people around him that they are struggling in ways that may be similar to what he went though before, and know how dire that can spiral into being.

Look, I don’t think Robin Lehner ever expected to be allowed to go out and lick people’s eyeballs or wander the supermarket maskless once vaccinated, but you heard the description of how intensely restrictive the NHL’s rules for players off-ice lives during COVID are. They are far more intense than the rules being enforced for non-NHL individuals in many of the same cities and states, because the NHL is trying to bring risk as close to zero as possible. And if you were a player told that being vaccinated was going to reduce contagion risks enough to mean that right away the NHL would finally let you and your teammates from “can’t go anywhere or see anyone, eat your dinner in your hotel room and try not to be depressed about it” to “you can go to the store with a mask on. you can eat meals with your also-vaccinated teammates. you can visit your parents or siblings while social-distancing/masking. you can spend free time around other people and/or in more public spaces without being chaperoned constantly by team staff. you can sit next to your also-vaccinated teammates on the plane/bus. you can hang out with them in their room”, and THEN later were told “sorry, we’re not actually going to let you do that yet. not for COVID reasons but rather because we worry not being totally miserable shut-ins will give you a competitive edge over that team in another state who aren’t getting vaccinated as quickly”. That has to feel like a slap in the face in terms of how much the league actually cares about your well-being or about being honest in its role in your personal medical decisions. Perhaps when he says “forced” he is expressing a feeling of being stuck between choosing “either get vaccinated or let your mental health keep degrading in isolation”, only to find out that making the deal doesn’t get you the relief you were promised.

Idk I feel like I’m repeating myself a lot here trying to circle in on my precise point bc my brain is a little scrambled today, but like. If the players made their decisions to consent to vaccination (at this time, with whatever version of the shot was offered, under whatever circumstances they may have going on personally or medically) based on one understanding of the situation, and then NHL really said “lol NOPE actually that was a false premise” and changed things after the fact, that’s kinda an informed consent issue and I think he’s right to call it fucked up! And everything he says about how mentally taxing such a super-isolated lifestyle is honestly only repeats worries I myself had right from the moment the “stay in your hotel room alone” rule was announced — that the League may be underestimating the toll (especially with some of the long road trips this season) that forcing players to live in total isolation like that was going to have on individual wellbeing and team morale.

Robin’s comments this morning could have been put better, but as somebody who has ADHD and who knows about bipolar disorder, I know emotions for folks with brains like ours can run fast and intense and sometimes lead to not always planning out every word as precisely and you might later have liked to once that moment has passed. The fact that he apologized for the less tactful part of the comment and sought to clarify his words tells me he’s thought a lot about this and wasn’t happy with how he expressed his thoughts initially. Also, while his English is very good, you can sometimes forget it isn’t his first language, Swedish is — some thoughts don’t translate exactly as they sounded in your head. That said, also Robin Lehner one of the more outspoken NHL players about mental health issues in recent years, and he also doesn’t seem like the type of guy to mince his words or tiptoe around a point — I’m not surprised he’s the person expressing these concerns about mental health, and I’m not surprised he was a bit blunt about it either lol.

All in all, it sounds like the NHL did a poor job of managing expectations around what vaccine rollout would mean for the players and their families, and that they’re also up to their usual NHL schtick of prioritizing some platonic ideal of Competitive Parity (remember “the Vancouver Canucks will play a 56 game season”, anyone?) above all else, even when that is no longer realistic and/or comes at the expense of the short-term and long-term mental and physical wellbeing of the players. Classic NHL.

(also: the New York Post is a right-leaning sensationalist rag 90% of the time. take all spin it puts on things with a grain of salt)

#long post #god I hope this makes sense my brain feels like a potato chip #also yeah I don’t judge people too hard for having slight cautions about getting vaccinated right away or with certain ones #when we don’t know their medical details medications risk factors etc #people deserve to be able to make decisions of informed consent when it comes to things like that and if the NHL has not been affording that #well. that is messed up #asks #anon

3 notes · View notes

luckyjak · 5 years

Text

Why I Don’t Ship Widojest: A Master Post

An anon sent me an ask about this topic, and I debated for quite a bit about how to answer it. Then I decided the best way was to do a long post like this. I put a lot of thought into why I don’t like it, and I thought to share it.

A few things: 1) I am not telling you not to ship it. The goal of this is not to say “Don’t ship Widojest! It is a bad ship and you are a bad person for shipping it!” That is not my goal, okay? The internet and fandom in particular is meant for fun, and if you enjoy Widojest then more power to you! Don’t let me or anyone else stop your fun! Lord knows I have shipped significantly more problematic things. All I ask is that you tag shit more but that’s beside the point.

2) I am not particularly interested in argument. You are not likely to change my mind. I am not trying to be hostile, but if you know reading this is going to piss you off, then don’t read it. A question was asked of me, and so I thought to share my opinion. Unfortunately for everyone involved I am a high school English teacher, and so I cannot think about anything without completely overthinking it.

About my shipping preferences: generally, I like all the ships! I was particularly fond of Widomauk before Molly died, and I now I really enjoy Shadowgast, but I also like Fjorclay, Fjester, Beaujester, Beauyasha, Widofjord, Clayleb, Lavorclay, and, as the only person on earth, Yasha/Caleb. Hell, if Astrid gets a good redemption arc? Caleb/Astrid or even Caleb/Astrid/Edowulf. Any of those ships could become canon and I’d be tickled pink! You can even throw Nott into the mix, even though I mostly ship her with her husband. Nott/Fjord? Delightful. Nott/Caleb? Weird flex but why not? Nott/Jester? Absolutely! They are the best detectives!

I just don’t like Widojest and I don’t want it to be canon, and here’s why:

Doyalist Reasons First:

1) Laura and Liam played twins for years, still act like siblings even though they aren’t related by blood, and it squicks me to think of them together romantically.

Laura and Liam are fantastic actors. If they were hired to play a romantic couple, I have no doubt in my mind they could knock it out of the park.

But why on earth would they want to pretend to be a romantic couple, in a game they both play for fun?

It would be weird. I play D&D with several guys I consider my brothers, and I can’t imagine pretending to romance either of them in d&d for that same reason. It would be weird.

Maybe it wouldn’t be weird for Liam and Laura. Maybe they are more dedicated to their RP, and they’d be able to push that aside for the sake of fictional romance. But for me, that would be the last thing I’d want to play, and I suppose I project that onto Laura/Liam.

2) A lot of “evidence” for the ship is the way Liam looks at Laura.

To which I say...did you watch Vox Machina?

That’s how Liam looks at Laura all the time. He’s the president of her fanclub. He’s her twinsie. He always looks at her with hearteyes. I have a hard time seeing that as “evidence” for him having feelings for her when...that’s just what his face looks like.

Now, for Watsion reasons:

3) It has all the benefits for Caleb, and none for Jester

Seriously. What does Jester get out of a relationship with Caleb?

Don’t say someone who understands her, because Caleb certainly doesn’t. In fact, the only person who routinely “gets” Jester is Beau. (see: their conversation on the ship.)

Lots of people accuse Widojest as being a Manic Pixie Dream Girl ship because...let’s be realistic, it has all the makings of one. Tortured, broody man meets young, innocent girl who teaches him to enjoy life once again? Wikipedia’s definition is “[girl with] eccentric personality quirks and are unabashedly girlish. They invariably serve as the romantic interest for a (most often brooding or depressed) male protagonist.” Guys, that is textbook Manic Pixie Dream Girl! It gets even worse because Jester’s character is a healer! You want her to heal him? That is squicky!

And yeah, I trust Liam and Laura to be more nuanced than that, but do you know who I absolutely do not trust to be more nuanced?

The fandom. The fandom that is already producing mass amounts of Manic Pixie Dream Girl fanfic. And as that’s where I spend a lot of my free time...egads. I do not want that.

The few Widojest fics I have read (which, admittedly, are not a lot, because again, I don’t like the ship. The few I have read have been tagged as gen and then come to find out, weren’t.) have the distinct problem of woobie-fying Caleb so that Jester can take care of him, and gosh, I do not want that to become a trend.

4) Age Gap

Yes, thirteen years is not that major of an age gap. Yes, Fjord/Jester also have a large age gap.

However, there is a world of difference between “20 year old girl displays romantic interest in a 30 year old man, who decides he likes her back after getting to know her for months” vs “33 year old man decides to pursue a 20 year old woman after they danced one time when he was drunk and held hands and she showed general concern for his well-being.” One is decidedly more creepy.

(And would Jester be the one to pursue a relationship with Caleb? I almost think she’d have to, but again, why would Jester ever pursue Caleb when Fjord/Beau are right there.)

(Also, side note that I thought about making it’s own point but then decided it was petty: if Jester’s type is Fjord--tall, broad-shouldered, dark haired, muscled, then Caleb--skinny, red-head, shorter than Fjord--decidedly isn’t her type.

You know who is tall, dark, and handsome though? Beau.)

And do not say Jester is mature for her age, because she absolutely isn’t! In fact, the whole point of her character is that she’s not mature, she’s very immature and childish on account of her being locked away and being incredibly sheltered most of her life!

Also not a good excuse: Caleb spent 11 years in the asylum and therefore he’s only mentally in his 20s. Uh, no he’s not. He was in an asylum: he was not brain dead. He lived those years. He might’ve been crazy, but he was alive then. Nothing Liam’s done suggests that Caleb is mentally in his 20′s.

5) What would they even talk about?

This is probably actually the one that bothers me the most out of all these reasons, but uh....what would Caleb and Jester talk about, if they were in a relationship together?

Seriously.

They could talk about books? But Jester only ever reads terrible romance and smut. We saw when she tried to pay attention to the dunamancy lessons that she struggles to be interested in that academic stuff that is Caleb’s bread and butter. They could talk about their childhoods? That will go over well. Jester was locked away from society and Caleb straight up murdered his beloved parents. If they manage to avoid that, I’m sure they could fight again over income, what with Jester being a rich kid and Caleb being a poor farm boy. Pranking? Caleb enjoys a good prank now and again, but I can only imagine he’d tolerate getting banned from so many libraries.

They are a cat and a dog, literally. Caleb is an introvert and his idea of a good time is a quiet night at home with a good book. Jester’s idea of a good time is a party with lots of people! Yet I’m supposed to believe they’d have a happy and fulfilling relationship? Don’t get me wrong, many introverts and extroverts do get married in real life, but like...I have a hard time seeing this one working out. How many dicks do you think Jester draws in his spellbooks--which are expensive and time-consuming and require precise work--before that becomes a point of contention?

6) He doesn’t trust her enough to tell her his secrets

Hey quick poll! Who in the Mighty Nein doesn’t know that Caleb murdered his parents?

Fjord. Caduceus. And look, Jester.

I have a hard time buying that he sees her romantically when he can’t even tell her one of the biggest things about him. And he’s known her for months at this point.

If I liked a guy, and I found out he had this big secret, and he had told Beau but not me this secret? I would think he didn’t trust me.

I suppose you could argue that he’s trying to protect her. But then that just goes back into the whole “he doesn’t trust her” argument. He even had the opportunity to and he didn’t during their whole hand-holding thing a few episodes ago!

7) What does their ending look like?

Listen, my ideal ending for Caleb at the moment is “maybe after ten years of friendship he lets Essek tenderly hold his hand for just a moment but no longer” but that’s just me. I see a lot of people who seem to think Caleb’s going to settle down and marry Jester and they are going to have kids, and I just--

Caleb? Having children? Caleb, who murdered his parents and has severe PTSD surrounding that? Caleb, who was abused by his mentor daily for many years? You want to give that Caleb children??? Children who he would constantly worry may grow up to kill him, like he did his own parents, or worse, that he’d do something to accidentally hurt them in a fit of madness?

I could see Caleb maybe adopting a kid if one was forced onto him, but I cannot see him going “ah yes we should procreate!”

Jester, meanwhile, needs like approximately fifteen kids ten years from now, I think. She’d love them. She’d just adopt an orphanage and let the kids run wild and be the best at playing games with them.

Also, character arcs are important. Because Caleb’s ideal ending is stability and Jester’s is exploration.

Caleb, traumatized child soldier who has spent the past 15 years in an asylum and also fighting for his life, and before that spent time traveling between the Zemni Fields, Ikithon’s home in the country, and the Empire’s Capitol, who then escaped the asylum and spent all of his time running, trying to avoid being caught by Ikithon. The best ending for Caleb is to find peace; peace that involves not having to move around anymore, and having a home again, something he hasn’t had in almost twenty years. Maybe that home is a tower in Nicodranas. Maybe it’s a house in Xhoras with six other people. Maybe it’s a quiet bookstore in Zadash, or a little cabin in the Zemni Fields. A garden/graveyard in the woods. Either way, it doesn’t involve a lot of travel from place to place.

Meanwhile, Jester, who was trapped in exactly one place for her entire life, deserves a chance to explore the world. Even when the Mighty Nein disband, I can’t see Jester being happy to just go back to Nicodranas and stay there for the rest of her life. She may settle down eventually, but uhhh, not for several decades, I don’t think. Part of why my two big ships for her are Fjord and Beau: Fjord wants to be a sailor again, I think, which involves travelling the world, so I could see Jester going out with him. Beau, likewise, is an Expositor whose job is to seek out corruption, which again, means travelling, which Jester would be happy to do with her. Hell, the three of them could go together, sailing and punching evil for all of time! It would be great!

(Also: her god is called the TRAVELER why would you want her to settle down and be a mom??? What part of her story makes you think she needs to stay in one place?)

Lastly

I apologize if this post offends anyone. I’ve just been thinking about it for a while, and while Widojest as a ship has surged in popularity, I suppose I wanted to make a counterpoint about my feelings towards the ship. This isn’t meant as an attack on anyone, again, and please, if you like the ship then don’t look at this as a reason to stop liking it! Fandom is for fun! Keep liking what you like!

And I can’t promise I’m always going to feel this way about the ship--hell, the VOD of Thursday’s episode may come out on Monday, and I may watch it and be converted myself. Who knows! I didn’t like Vax/Keyleth at first either, but it grew on me and now it’s one of my favorites from Vox Machina.

(ALTHOUGH Mr. O’brien I swear to God if you romance Jester while flirting with Essek in a direct parallel to Keyleth/Vax/Gilmore I’m going to fly to LA just to punch you.)

Part of me wonders too if it just comes down to character interpretation, if there is something about their characters that is clicking for some people but isn’t for me. Admittedly, I love Caleb and Jester’s friendship, and I see them more as growing like siblings that romantically, but I’ve been wrong before and who knows, I may be wrong again. But if it is a character interpretation, I just wonder what they are seeing about the characters that squicks me but appeals to them.

#critical role #cr discourse #anti-ship #anti-w*dojest

154 notes · View notes

lollytea · 4 years

Note

What are your opinions about Jungle cubs? I loved that show as a kid!

hi hello!! thank u for humoring me!! i love getting asks about the stuff im currently obsessed with that nobody really cares about, it makes me feel valid! also i dont have well constructed opinions, i just have a very messy, manic head so i just babble all my thoughts. for that i am sorry

im not gonna say jungle cubs is the best damn cartoon to hit the tv and maybe its just my own biased love speaking when i call it a good show but it means a lot to me personally. it brought me comfort as a little kid, i came back to it as a teen when i was feeling very alone and came back to it again as an adult just cuz of my recent love of baloo and talespin and needing something to keep me upbeat during the quarantine.

and ive watched quite a few cartoons i loved as a kid that i dont really vibe with anymore. i tried rewatching gummi bears. its not my thing. but jungle cubs is?? really good?? its just so charming to watch. i love the expressive animation, i love the smooth flowing dialogue, i love the playful and naive tone it has of just a bunch of kids being kids, i love the depiction of these characters, i love the performance of the voice actors, i love the layers it adds to the original film. layers that were never intended to be in there in the first place but isnt that just the beauty of interpretation and ones own imagination.

its such a formulaic concept isnt it. to take a classic show/movie and make its protagonists babies for a spinoff. but i dunno, i always got the feeling that whoever was the backbone of this story actually cared about the characters they were writing and took a sincere approach to it.

they thought in-depth about how to devolve them from their current personalities in a realistic way and what aspects of themselves are so core to their being that they would have been ingrained since childhood. the cubs feel pretty three-dimensional and considering theyre cash grab spinoff babies, that is an amazing feat.

but also, i love it for the very very very simple reason of its really adorable. bagheera especially. to see such a stoic and levelheaded character in his earliest stage as a child just Hits for me. cub bagheera is clever, hes cautious, hes a little stuck-up, all traits he has in the movie. hes also not the best hunter, doesnt know how to roar yet, is a little cowardly, sorta awkward at times and is often trying to prove that hes the best even though hes aware that he is nowhere near the best.

like its easy to believe the kind of person he grows up to be but at the same time, its really interesting to see the more childish aspects of himself that he eventually matured past. and hes adorable dude! baby bagheera voiced by EG Daily is the sweetest goddamn thing, i love him so much

also shere khan who is a fuckin doozy. hes very interesting in this too. everything about his attitude is reminiscent of a preteen who says mean things to you on voice chat while playing overwatch but if you tell him you’re gonna call the police on him, he starts panicking. thats shere khan’s vibe, a real edgy little tiger who thinks hes hot shit cuz he probably caught something bigger than a mouse like one time and its gone to his head.

hes constantly stalking around, subtly bragging about what a natural predator he is. but at the same time, he’s still around?? hes still hanging around with the other cubs cuz hes ALSO a cub and likes to play around with other kids his age. and he fucking loves his friends. the amount of times he’s scared off bigger animals who were about to harm them. and its really sweet cuz they like him too. while his attitude is definitely annoying sometimes, they still consider him their friend and enjoy his company. its just wholesome.

plus hes also pretty vulnerable as hes a cub. he doesnt stand a chance when they come across a grown animal as a threat. he gets scared just like the rest of them, hes just so arrogant that he never admits it.

in fact the appeal of the show in general to me, is the vulnerabilities of all the characters that comes with being in their most immature state. they dont know any better when it comes to stuff. this show is real dumbass hours

EVERYTHING about baloo is just great. he does not change even slightly. he is exactly the same except hes little and his voice hasnt broke yet. his child voice is amazingly fitting also.

i mean i guess one thing that differentiates him is adult baloo had some semblance of a philosophy. he was wise....in a way. baby baloo does not know shit about shit. he does not think. he just vibes, okay?? i love him mwah

i dont have much to say about the others but i DO like this interpretation of them more than their adult selves. it also just feels bittersweet that they grew up to be such dicks. Haithi is lovely, i love that hes just out here TRYING to be a colonel but he lacks the authority that comes with being a grown elephant and he doesnt have the self confidence to command anybody yet. he is simply babey.

louie is a very cute little dude, i love him and baloo as just an idiot squad. he also has a very good voice

kaa.....i dont trust. on one hand, hes very sweet as a child but on the OTHER HAND he grows up to be the creepiest fucking creation disney has ever put in a movie so that snake will always rub me the wrong way even when im trying to like him.

also ONE THING thats driving me crazy about this show is like. it has the best depiction of pre-adolescent boys that i have ever seen in a cartoon ever. just the way they behave. theyre sweethearts one minute, extremely mean the next minute, going from building eachother up to lightly bullying eachother, lots of unprovoked play fighting, laughing over dumb shit, rude to strangers for no goddamn reason, theres just a lot.

it fuckin knocked me back like 15 years cuz it reminded me so much of kids i used to play with. and these arent even human children whose brain development is documented, these are animals, this show had no business being this spot-on.

i dont like season 2. it has a few gems here and there that i get a kick out of. but as a whole, its really disappointing. since the show swapped production companies, they seemed to uproot it completely and start from scratch. and its kinda sad cuz i think they were TRYING to do something poignant when it came to a future narrative but it just didnt land. firstly there was a huge animation downgrade and looking at the two season in comparison is kinda depressing.

also they redesigned the characters, some looked worse than others. baloo looked fine but i still preferred his og look. bagheera....was the worst. rip bagheera.

they all underwent a huge personality change. and not in the way that showed subtle maturity, i mean a vapid exaggeration of their original personality. the only characters who were left relatively alone in this regard were baloo and kaa. and i dont mind gradually changing a character since there IS an adult version of them that they should be growing into. but the season 2 depictions are literally the furthest things from their adult selves that its unbelievable.

another pet peeve is they changed a few of the voice actors and.....i love these season 2 voice actors in other work theyve done. dee bradley baker and cree summer specifically who are both very talented people. but they did not fit these roles in the slightest. (not to mention having cree summer play an APE and suddenly having her do a LOT of monkey noises that the previous va never had to do. im not gonna get into all that BUT hmm.) and if youre gonna recast the characters to make them sound “older” as least make them sound somewhat similar to the jungle book actors, so you can picture them eventually growing into those voices.

also the tone shifted so much between seasons. the way they tried to make this jungle more of a “society” with shit like talent shows and sports games and celebrities and like fuckin. STOP. theyre animals. just let them be animals. along with that the writing just feels really off and its just. not fun. i dont like it

and as i mentioned, they WERE trying to do something here. the fact that the cubs didnt hang out with eachother as much and were starting to drift apart is kinda sad and wouldve liked it see it handled a little better. but instead i got season 2, which was stupid. and im 21 and im petty.

anyway i am very sorry that ended so negatively and im very sorry that rant was completely all over the place i have no sense of proper organization i just wanted to gush about what i love. but on a positive note i love jungle cubs!! its very dear to my heart and makes me very happy and i wish it had gotten more episodes

12 notes · View notes

tuanhood · 5 years

Text

not stalking

pairing: im jaebeom x reader (ft. a bit of mark)

genre: fluff, angst(?)

word count: 3,346

summary: you’re finally ready to really talk to your crush… except someone else is in his usual place.

a/n: um so this is really bad and I don’t know why I wrote it but here u go! not edited WHOOPS

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

Even you had to admit what a stupid idea it was to keep coming back here almost every single day. You had done the internet stalking before, but actual physical stalking? It was a first time for everything.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it was like for your grandparents or even parents. To be so enthralled by someone that you come to their workplace day after day. Maybe then it was sweet, but now in 2019 you knew it would be considered creepy. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from passing by the window of the animal shelter on your way home from university. Although it wasn’t on the typical route back to your place, you would constantly make excuses as to why you had to go that way.

Examples of excuses you would tell yourself and your friends include, but not limited to:

Ah well my second favorite coffee shop is nearby, and I haven’t been in forever!

I heard they’re doing construction work the other way.

There’s something fresher about the air this way.

I can’t deal with all the people holding clipboards and asking questions, even if it’s the quicker route.

I like to look at the animals at the shelter.

The last one was for sure a lie. Well not for sure, because you did enjoy looking at the animals, but there was something or someone else that you enjoyed the sight of.

It started on a day in May when you accompanied your old housemate to the local animal shelter to help her and her girlfriend choose a dog. You didn’t realize what you had been signing up for was your own adoption to a certain boy who worked at the front desk. Never in your life had you immediately become so hooked to someone. It was as though the minute the two of you locked eyes, he demanded that you dedicated the rest of your life to obsessing over him. And so far, that was telling to be true. That day you couldn’t pay attention or hear your old housemate ask what you thought about a certain dog, instead all you were concentrating on was him, his brown eyes and that smile that melted your heart.

You had never been in a serious relationship before and you had to admit to yourself that maybe it had something to do with your tendency to throw yourself into crushes, but never act upon them. With the way this guy made you feel upon first look, you knew something had to be done – even if it took a year.

Throughout the entire adoption process, as your former housemate signed the papers for her new dog you kept trying to think of something to say on your way out that would impress him or better yet make him declare his love for you.

After the last signature and last filled in blank, you stood up and began to exit the shelter. Your palms began to sweat a little and you felt nausea begin to build in your stomach. Passing by the front desk, you had turned to your right and let out a big sigh, thinking, here goes nothing.

“Um bye, thank you!”

That was it. That was all you had thought of to say in the moment. Thirty minutes of thinking and sitting in a chair as you waited for the adoption papers to be signed you had completely been erased from your memory. Apparently, anything intelligent in your vocabulary had also been erased. “Um bye, thank you,” didn’t even deserve a response, but to your surprise he had turned to you with a big smile.

“Thanks for coming in and adopting a new friend! See you around!”

See you around. He was practically asking you to come back, to come pass by the shelter’s window every day. At that moment you had glanced down at the shirt he was wearing with a name tag attached.

Mark.

From that day Mark had your heart. Mark… Mark… something? So, you weren’t sure what his last name was, but did you really need to to be in love? You had tried to do some in-depth Facebook stalking, but you didn’t have much to go off of except Mark and the place he works. After all who even updates their Facebook profile with their workplace anymore?

Regardless, that led to you passing by almost every day and even going inside sometimes to talk to him. It would often be to just ask a simple question about the adoption process or what kind of breeds of dogs or cats they had in. No matter what it was Mark always managed to answer you with a bright smile and cheerful voice.

Luckily, he hadn’t recognized you yet. Although of course the end goal was to get married or just you know… something – you were nervous about him getting freaked out about you constantly coming in. It wasn’t like an animal shelter was a coffeeshop. You timed out how often you went inside to ask a question to no more than once a week, usually every Tuesday. And every Tuesday you would talk yourself up as to how this would be the time you ask him out or just talk about something that doesn’t have to do with the adoption process and best type of dogs for hiking, but it never happened.

However, you felt really good about this week. This week you had planned on asking Mark about the bracelet he always wears on his left wrist. You had noticed it probably the third week you had gone inside the shelter. Who knows? Maybe it would lead to a conversation about something personal and intimate? Probably not, but you could only hope. Taking a deep breath, you reached the front doors of the shelter without looking into the front window. You didn’t want to see him just yet in case it was going to make you talk yourself into not going through a real conversation with him yet again.

Reaching for the handles of the doors and pulling them open, you stared at the floor. You knew you probably looked like a crazy person, but the butterflies in your stomach began to build. Taking the few steps you needed to get inside, you marched towards the front desk and lifted your head to see Mar-

Not Mark.

Instead, a boy with jet black hair, two moles above one of his eyes and a blank face sat in his place. Your face had fallen and he had noticed.

“Can I help you with something?”

You blinked twice in confusion, “Uh sorry?”

Now it was his turn to blink, “You came in here… I’m assuming you need something. To adopt an animal perhaps?” You wondered why he had emphasized the word animal so strangely, but you decided to discard the thought and answer him.

“Um no sorry, my mistake. I thought- nevermind.” You took this as your chance to turn around and leave completely defeated, but a thought entered your mind. Maybe this could be your chance to gather some kind of intel on Mark? At least his last name so you could stalk him on social media later. What was this mole guy going to say? Hey dude some girl came in asking about you? Mark would never know it was you.

Pausing, you turned around once more back to the occupier of the front desk and cleared your throat. You wanted to come off as confident as though you actually knew what you were doing.

“Actually… I was wondering. Where’s Mark today?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you and took out one of the AirPods he had stuffed into his ears as you had had your internal conflict about leaving the shelter or staying for Mark intel. “Mark who?”

Was this guy new? Then a scary thought had come to you, what if this guy was Mark’s replacement? What if Mark didn’t work here anymore? You would have never known if he had put in his two weeks, after all it’s not like he would have told you. How were you supposed to find him now? Was this it? You stumbled over your words, “M-Mark the one who-who’s usually here.”

Upon hearing your reply, the guy at the desk leaned back in his desk chair and brought his pointer finger to his chin, slowly tapping it in thought. “Hmm… Mark. Mark…. Mark, Mark…”

Taking a closer look, you could tell that he had a slight smirk on his face as if playing with you. Was this guy really just trying to wind you up?

“Sorry, don’t know him,” he said bringing his entire hand down to rest underneath his chin, leaning against the table. It was the clear smile on his face that made you realize that he was indeed teasing you. But why?

“I know you know him. Can you just tell me?” He gave another smile and shook his head from left to right a few times, “Sorry that would be against company policy.”

At this you furrowed your eyebrows, “What kind of company policy would that be?”

“The one where we don’t tell any private information to stalkers.”

You immediately froze. This guy knew about your weekly visits into the shelter? And perhaps even your daily passing by? If he knew… that must mean Mark knew. You felt your stomach drop.

As if reading them, your new tormentor interrupted your thoughts, “Don’t worry Tuan doesn’t pick up on that sort of stuff.”

“Tuan?” You asked. He closes his eyes and hits his hand against his forehead in clear frustration, “Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. Please don’t look him up on Facebook, Instagram or whatever you use to perform your stalking rituals. It’ll just go to his head and I’ll have to hear about it.”

You had it! Mark Tuan! Mark freaking Tuan. Mrs. Mark Tuan. Mr. Mark Tuan and Mrs-

“I can already tell you’re trying to imagine what your name would sound like with his and I’m getting secondhand embarrassment from it.”

“T-That’s not what I’m doing!” You replied with a strained voice, although it was very much what you were doing. He snorted, “Sure.”

Who did this guy even think he was? He doesn’t know you. Sure, maybe he picked up on the fact that you had been coming by an unhealthy amount to see Mark, but that doesn’t necessarily give him the right to characterize you as a stalker!

“And what if I was doing that? It’s a free country. I’m allowed to have a crush on anyone!” You responded. At that, the guy rolled his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel even more attacked, “Yeah, but a crush on Mark isn’t really a good idea.”

“And why’s that?” It was difficult to gauge your emotions. You couldn’t exactly tell if you were annoyed, frustrated or generally curious about the guy’s notion to tell you that Mark wasn’t a good crush to have. “Mark’s just… not interested in dating.”

“I’m not trying to date him!” You said quickly.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “so are you just trying to fuck him?”

Your eyes widened, “No! Of course not! I’m-” What were you trying to do? Well of course you wanted to date Mark, but the mole guy didn’t need to know that… But it seemed as though he already knew that.

“Listen I work in the cat center here, and us cat people know these things. So it’s better if you just lay off Mark.”

“You work in the cat center?” He nodded his head and looked at you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “How do you think I knew you were passing by every day?”

You mentally face palmed yourself as you realized that when walking by the animal shelter, the window does not cover just the reception desk, but the cat adoption center as well. Not only had you been walking by Mark every day, but apparently this guy too. “Well that’s beside the point. I’m not going to lay off Mark, just because some random guy told me to. For all I know you might not even really know him!”

He sighed, “Listen I might as well tell you this, because either way you’ll find out once you go home and stalk him on social media, but Mark just got out of a long term relationship. And he’s kind of still hoping that they’ll get back together. Haven’t you noticed that he hasn’t caught on that you’ve been coming in here so much?”

Hearing this, your heart fell a bit. Not as much as you thought it would, but you still felt a piece of it chip away. “I-I just thought maybe he wasn’t very observant.”

“Well, that’s true… but he’s also just so invested in his ex he hasn’t really paid attention to anyone else.”

A tight smile came to your face and you wanted nothing more than for the moment to just be over. You already embarrassed yourself enough and standing in front of this guy you barely knew only made things worse somehow. “I-I should just go then. There’s no reason for me to be here then. Thanks for all your… help.”

He got up from his chair, and moved around the desk to grab your wrist, just as you began to turn towards the door. Startled at his sudden closeness, you looked into his eyes. For the first time since you came in, you felt him shy away from you a bit, not having the same confidence and cocky attitude as before. Searching his eyes, you felt him wanting to say something to you, but not knowing exactly how to say it.

He cleared his throat, “you can come and stalk me as much as you like.”

“I wasn’t stalk-“ You stopped yourself from finishing when his words finally caught up to you, “w-what?”

He rolled his eyes at you, “do I really have to say it again? Are you going to make me?”

You stepped back from his grasp, “sorry I’m just a little confused.”

He closed his eyes tightly as if cursing at himself for going about this the wrong way. You laughed at his frustration over the situation, it was actually… kind of cute?

With his eyes still closed, “why don’t we just start over? You know before I-” you cut him off before he could finish, “ruined my harmless crush?”

His eyes shot open, “okay harmless? You were coming in here almost every other day and watching him through the window when you walked by every day!”

“For your information I only came in once a week!”

He blinked twice and thrusted his hand forward, “I’m Jaebeom.”

This was not how you expected this day to go at all. You thought at worst Mark would just ignore you and at best you would maybe end up with a coffee date. What was even happening?

Reluctantly, you took Jaebeom’s hand in yours. You told him your own name and felt Jaebeom’s hand draw back. “I-I know actually,” he paused, “we kind of go to the same university. I’ve seen you around campus a couple of times and then when I noticed you passing by here I kind of just you know…”

“stalked me?” You finished for him.

Jaebeom took a step back in panic, “n-no! I was not stalking you! I just looked you up online… You know… just through a friend of a friend’s profile.” He mumbled the last part.

“Oh so a completely normal thing to do, right?” You teased.

He sighed deeply and looked at the ground, shaking his head. “Ugh I probably shouldn’t even be saying this, because it’s so embarrassing… but I thought you recognized me from school and that’s why you had been passing by here,” he avoided making eye contact and kept his head down towards the floor, “then when you come in and I saw the way you asked Mark all those random questions, I realized it wasn’t for me.”

Finally, Jaebeom looked up at you and gave you a shy smile. You took in his facial features which at first had seemed sharp and cruel, but his nervous and almost bashful behavior in front of you made you see how gentle he truly was. His eyes looked into yours sadly, as if he waited for you to make fun of him.

“You know… It’s not that often that I have a stalker. I really have to make the most of this.”

He groaned, “I wasn’t stalking!”

“Sound familiar?”

“Okay maybe I was a little.”

You smiled, “how far did you get on my Instagram?”

His eyes widened and he raised his voice, “yah! I’m not that much of a creep!” You raised your eyebrows at him and he gave in, simply muttering, “your senior prom, 2015. Your friend was your date.” He avoided all eye contact once again and you had to stop yourself at giggling at how cute he was.

You straightened your posture as you channeled your utmost confidence, “Verve is my favorite coffeeshop.”

Jaebeom looks at you confused, “what?”

“It’s my favorite coffeeshop and I may or may not be there after you get off your shift,” you shrugged and took a step towards him, “isn’t that something stalkers want to know?”

He smiled, looking into your eyes and took a step forward as well, “I guess it is.”

Your closeness to Jaebeom was interrupted by the ring of the front door’s bell, signaling the arrival of someone in the shelter. Both of you took a step back.

“I know I said I couldn’t come in today and that’s why I begged you to cover me but I had to come back because I left my metro card when I locked up last night.”

Both you and Jaebeom turned to the front to see Mark quickly rushing in, immediately darting behind the front desk in search of his metro card, paying no mind to you.

“Ah! Found it! I knew it was here. You know how annoying it is to just walk everywhere? It’s like- If I’m paying monthly for this thing, might as well use it and not forget it at wor-” In the midst of his rant, Mark paused when he noticed you and Jaebeom together.

Mark blushed embarrassedly, “sorry I didn’t realize you were with a customer Jae.”

Jaebeom looked from Mark to you and wondered if you would forget all about him and simply return to having Mark be the object of your affection. “Yeah man, I was just trying to help her-”

You cut Jaebeom off, “actually I’m not a customer.”

Jaebeom looked at you confused and Mark spoke up, just as perplexed, “oh?”

“I come in here all the time and pass by every single day on my way home from school.”

Mark looked at you as though you were crazy, “and why is that?” Smiling you answered him, “because I have a crush on someone who works here.”

“No way! Who? Jinyoung? Yugyeom? I bet it’s Jackson…” he paused and took a step back to look at you, “you look like a Jackson girl.”

You moved closer to Jaebeom and softly grabbed his hand. He looked at you in shock as if he couldn’t believe that you’d choose him over Mark. “Nope not them.”

Mark looked at your hand in Jaebeom’s and his eyes widened, “what! Jae? Wow… That’s actually really cute,” he pouted for a moment, “I wish someone would come in to see me everyday. Hana would never do that for me. You’re lucky Jaebeom. Hold on to this one!”

You felt Jaebeom stroke his thumb against the top of your hand, he smiled.

“Oh trust me, I will.”

#got7 #got7 fic #got7 fanfic #got7 au #im jaebeom

61 notes · View notes

elizawright · 3 years

Text

My experience with Aspergers

OCD and Anorexia 2/2:

Right now the painful part, this is probably the most difficult to talk about because it’s still so fresh and still very much active in my daily life. My Anorexia story I would say officially began around December 2018 however as I’ve mentioned before I’ve always struggled with eating. It started as just being a very fussy kid, in my early teen years I used to obsessive compulsively diet extremely strictly for periods of time. I think this in itself could be considered Anorexia or at least I was at the very edge of being. A year later I would completely 180, over eat and put on a lot of weight. A year later from that I would once again strictly diet this time making myself throw up if i “over ate” in my mind or ate something “bad”. I distinctly remember being 14 on holiday in Florida. My family kept encouraging me to eat fruit loops for breakfast (I would only eat bran flakes) and of course I desperately wanted to but it was very scary to me. So I did eat them one day and being 14 and uneducated on food I had a panic. Though I was panicking I didn’t ever tell anyone Insted I hid away, found a toilet and forced myself to throw up. Now this is years before I was officially diagnosed with an eating disorder but to me, this doesn’t seem healthy. Looking back I feel quite sorry for little me feeling I had to hide away and be sneaky, I wish I had told my mum how I was feeling, but I didn’t. Anyway, back to my official timeline. So 2018 was the year I did my gcses, it was a different year, I was so focused on my studies I began to over eat as a coping mechanism, this caused me to put on quite a bit of weight. Now I was never really fat but i was overweight, I would guess 13 stone (to put in comparison, when diagnosed with anorexia 6 months later I was 7 stone something, that’s a loss of 5 stone). In November that year I got my lovely boyfriend. When we first started dating I felt quite ashamed that I weighed more than him. Of course he didn’t care, I don’t think he even ever thought of it, he just liked me for me, but the intrusive thoughts which are oh so common to me told me otherwise. I began to notice in the morning my belly looked it’s flattest which I figured was because I hadn’t put any food in my stomach making it bloat so I began not eating in the mornings. If I was going to see my boyfriend who obviously as a young teen at the start of a relationship I wanted to impress I wouldn’t eat. I wouldn’t eat while I was around him then as soon as I got home I would eat as normal. This is where it all began. My boyfriend used to recall to my mom “she never eats breakfast and never eats at my house! I try and feed her but she just won’t eat.”

So like I said life carried on like this for a few months, I didn’t loose a massive amount of weight, maybe half a stone, but things changed drastically after a holiday to Egypt. On the first day I was struggling and obsessing over my appearance as usual, obsessing over every roll I could see. Looking back now I looked great! I had big boobs and hips, but at the time I didn’t see any of that all I saw was fat. Well the next day after this I caught a really bad case of the flu. I was bed ridden for the entire rest of the week barely well enough to get home. As we were in Egypt we had no way of getting any medication at all not even paracetamol so I was completely wiped out, it was the worst illness I’ve ever faced were literally everything that could happen, happened. Now because of this I didn’t eat for the entire week.

Once I arrived home and I began the process of analysis of my body as per usual I noticed I had lost weight. I put two and two together realising a week of not eating made me really quickly drop a ton of weight. The cogs began turning and I told myself the short amount of pain (being the hunger) my future self would thank me for. So I began restricting. Using the bike analogy it began at a quick pace but slowly got faster and faster. Soon I was eating no more than 400 calories a day, anymore than that and I would get depressed and anxious and stressed (for comparison the average women needs 2000 calories a day just to maintain weight) I was terrified of nearly all foods. Butter, bread, literally everything I can think of. I weighed out everything out to the T never eating a full packet of something. Which if I’m honest, I still do weigh everything, I also still count calories obsessively. This is what I mean by I’m not fully recovered I’m a lot better, but still suffering and fighting.

Now at this point my mental and physical health began to really suffer. I was normally really good at school getting outstanding grades in gcses but now with a levels I wasn’t able to get work completed or done, I couldn’t concentrate, I would fall asleep in class because I was tierd constantly, I wasn’t my normal talkative enthusiastic self because I was so drained of all energy I’m honestly so shocked my teachers didn’t make more of an effort to help me. I remember one time a teacher telling me I looked very ill and pale so forced me to eat a banana they had brought for their own lunch which was a struggle for me to do. Luckily for me a teacher i still dont know reported to the head of sixthform about being worried for me. They had been gone 3 months and within coming back had noticed the drastic change in weight I had had. It goes to show how much weight I lost as I was always wearing baggy clothes to hide it and she still noticed. Now that I’m mentioning it all my clothes were massively oversized because I no longer fit my entire wardrobe. I would try and wear stuff like leggings as they made me feel comfortable and happy in myself but my head of sixthform would shout at me and force me to change. I recall a few teachers and students coming to me asking if I was alright as they had noticed my rapid weight loss, I told them it was just stress. I was completely in denial I had tricked myself into thinking it was normal, I have no idea how I even lasted as long as I did at sixthform like this. So as the story goes I got taken into the teds team which is a recovery center for children with eating disorders

I was extremely reluctant to go, I was stand off ish and rude to the doctors and my family which is something that is not in my nature at all. Looking back all they wanted to do was help me but at the time I thought everyone was against me were trying to trick me into being fat. This was clearly the anorexia talking and not me, it was completely in control. While there I was freezing cold so they had to turn the fan off. I was honest as I could be and told them most of what I previously told you but it still didn’t actually sound like a concern to me. I down played it as much as a could because I didn’t want anyone’s help. I can still remember that horrible feeling of being so stubborn and refusing to even acknowledge what the people around me were saying I was so caught up in the anorexic trap. Now about a year ago from this I had been previously weighed as I had started a new version of medication, like I said I weighed in at around 85kg, 13 stone. I got weighed again on this day and was in the 7 stones, I had lost nearly 6 stone in 3 months. That’s crazy looking back at. I was told if I didn’t turn myself around soon my periods would stop and I would have to go into hospital to be force fed. They warned me as I was in the hight of my teenage development i was right at the edge of doing permanent growth, brain and fertility damage. I love children and can’t wait to be a mother someday and I really highly value my intelligence so this was the kick up the bum I needed to start my recovery. I came back a week later to create an eating plan and in that time I had dropped another couple of pounds in just a week. I was very stubborn during the hour we spent making an eating plan, we pretty much fought back and forth me and the doctor disagreeing on everything, the eating disorder had complete control over my mind and I was pretty much in auto pilot. Eventually we came to an agreement which I still was very reluctant to follow, but I had worked out the calorie intake and it felt at level that was “safe” for me. I was also just happy to not have to worry about making food anymore as my mum was now in charge or making everything I eat. Before this I was eating on average a banana, half a packet of cuscus and a plain piece of brown bread without butter and a spoon full of baked beans with no sauce. On top of this I drank an unhealthy amount of coffee, so much I became addicted, to help me loose weight, keep me full and give me the energy I didn’t have.

I remember so vividly the first day I followed this new eating routine my stomach had shrunk so small I was physically in pain by the end of the day. I was to eat 2 spoons of yogurt in the morning, an egg sandwich at lunch on brown bread, an apple, half a dinner and one weatabix at night. By the weatabix I was in physical pain from being so full. But I pushed through it. A week later I had still lost weight but not as much as the normal rate went. This is when I was told I had to add in extra and I reacted terribly. I flat out refused to follow it anymore and said I was quitting the program. For a few months I refused to follow the new program sticking to the old one I felt safe with and still lost weight with. With things like anorexia it’s something I feel can never be solved by anyone else it’s something you have to do yourself. I think I improved just overtime by chatting with the teds team and the dietitian and educating myself. This next part of my journey is kind of difficult to talk about as I don’t remember it much, I was so tired and drained it’s all kind of disappeared from my memory. Eventually through education I began to slowly add things to my eating plan. I added crisps (but only under the condition they were healthy ones under 100 calories) changed the yogurt to 2 weatabix as it was easier to measure and less of a “scary food” to me.

So yeah, since this is just a short (at least as short as I can make it) synopsis of my journey I’m just going to skip to now. Some day maybe I’ll talk about the one and a half year gap there is between then and now but that would take too long for the moment. Now I am still suffering with eating. I’ve put on a bit of weight but I’m still classed as underweight. I still follow a very strict daily routine with what I eat, I still weigh things out, I still calorie count, I still analyse my body but I am a hell of a lot better than a year ago. I still struggle when it comes to eating “fatning” of “sugary” foods but on occasion I do eat them. I try and eat something every day like a breakfast bar or granola bar. Although I am a lot better now, I’m mostly tortured by the anorexic intrusive thoughts.

I struggle oddly with extreme hunger! Something I hadn’t felt at all while I was in critical condition. I did some research and I found out this happens to most recovering anorexics and their body is literally starving and desperate for food. I have been left with loose skin which makes me extremely embarrassed and unhappy, I hope someday to get rid of it as it’s a big factor of my destress. I hope this story can help educate people without eating disorders and give you an incite into our minds. Someday I will go into more detail.

1 note · View note

melikeylikeyjimin · 5 years

Text

Absent Souls

(I do not own this gif)

Word Count: 7.1k words

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader and Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU! ANGST and Fluff

a/n: Hey guys, Here’s that one-shot I was talking about earlier in Noir 11! Sorry it’s coming out later than expected but everything has been really busy for me, so I apologize! I don’t imagine getting Noir out tonight as well, but I’ll try my hardest to get it out ASAP! Thank you for all the love and support and I hope you like this one-shot :)!

Throughout the world, there were always joyous people, heartbroken people, and people that were just going about in what seemed like a constant routine. Happiness for some was a constant high of dopamine that they got, for others it was a fleeting feeling that whenever it hit, left a sense of warmness in your heart.

Sadness seemed to be just like happiness. Sometimes it left people debilitated and caught in its grasps or it would occasionally drop in like an unwanted relative.

Where you fell? You weren’t a hundred percent sure all the time. You were always told that happiness was the best thing a person could feel, so therefore you should always try to be happy.

You grew up in a rather happy environment where you could feel the love, care, and all of those good feelings. You would watch your parents talk with each other on a quiet Sunday morning while your dad would be sitting down drinking coffee while reading the newspaper, and your mom would be working away at making breakfast for all of you to enjoy together.

The way they talked to each other was a beautiful sight to see for all. Their tones always calm and relaxed as their eyes only showed love for one another. Monogamy like no other. No one could tear your parents apart, you were for sure about that. You didn’t really understand all their words they would tell you about love and how you would find your very own type of love. At a young age, most of the words that flew into your ears went straight back out without even a single thought of comprehending it.

As you got older, you continued to see the sight of your parents. It influenced you to want to find the same type of love they shared. You wanted a special person who would talk sweetly with you and hold only love and admiration in their eyes for you, just like your dad had held for your mom. Everything about the love they shared was golden and perfect, there was no cracks, scratches, or any dents in their love. Their souls were perfectly connected and completely in sync.

Around the time you turned thirteen was when you first heard the word soulmate. Your parents had sat you down one night after dinner to talk to you. Being a normal person, you were paranoid that you had done something wrong, but the soft smiles on their faces calmed the storm in your head.

They told you about how they met and how everything sparked. They were soulmates. You listened carefully to their romantic story of how they got together. Soulmates. It was a lovely word and after hearing your parents story of how they met, you wanted your very own soulmate.

Your mother had reassured you that you would find one and you would love them and they would love you the same. They told you how there was not really a sign that you had met your soulmate but you would just know. A simple even glance or meeting of the eyes would set your heart ablaze. The thought made your heart rush in excitement to meet your very own soulmate.

How you could not wait to meet the person who would make you feel complete, loved, and everything right and good.

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

Now at sixteen, you were a bit more discouraged since you had first learned about soulmates when you were thirteen. Not that you had expected to find him/her right away but it had been three almost four years since then. Still, no sign of them.

You sighed deeply as you dragged your feet home after another tiring day of school. School life was boring, nothing interesting ever happened much. It became a daily motion to the point where going to school was like you living your life on autopilot.

Every day was the same. Wake up, get ready, go to school and learn, come back home, eat, do homework, sit on your phone, and then go to bed.

It couldn’t get any better than that. Your life had no real variety or spice to it. You weren’t sad with it but you weren’t happy with how it was going either. You sat down at your desk, in your room and pulled out your phone to aimlessly scroll through all the different forms of social media you had.

The random videos you constantly scrolled past was how you spent your time. Cat videos, dog videos, pranks, random memes that didn’t always make sense, an article about how they did surgery on a grape, and much other stuff flooded your screen.

The internet was an odd but lovely place. There were lots of cool stuff on it but with the same amount of weird stuff on it too. Surfing too deep into it was bound to lead to scarring for sure, making the internet a wondrous but also terrifying place to be.

You sighed before closing the app and locking your phone, setting it gently on your wooden desk. You stared up at the ceiling looking for something to do. Days like these made routine feel mediocre and boring.

Eventually, you gave up looking for something to do and settled with a short nap while you waited for your mom to make dinner. That was at least one thing you could forward to, dinner...food.

Falling back onto your bed, you lay your head comfortably on the pillow, pulling the blankets up to your chin and setting a small alarm so you didn’t oversleep so much that you wouldn’t be able to sleep later tonight. Closing your eyes, you drifted off into a different and better form of reality, a dreamland.

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

The blaring sound of your alarm caused your eyes to squint as they tried desperately to take in your room and stay open. Lazily flinging your arm over towards where your phone sat, sounding out the song you had made your alarm tone, you hit the stop button.

Sitting up took a lot of energy out of you as you tried to will yourself that today was worth it and you should get up even if you wished nothing more than to go back into the warmth of your blankets and pillows. The cold air blanketed over your skin, filling it with goosebumps as soon as it was exposed.

Rubbing your arms up and down, you made your way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Brushing your teeth, brushing your hair, and getting dressed.

Something about today felt different to you. It was as if your body was unusually filled with this happy energy. It was as if every fiber of your body was screaming that it was going to be a great day today and that for once, school would be something that wasn’t as bad as it usually was.

You smiled back at your reflection in the mirror. You were gonna hold on tight to this positive feeling you had because you never wanted to let go of it now.

Rushing down the stairs with your bag slung over your shoulder, you set it down on the kitchen table before quickly throwing your lunch together and eating a granola bar. This really was a new feeling, you usually take your time to get to school, but you could hardly wait to get there. You quickly tied your shoes and threw your bag on before giving your confused mother and father a hurried goodbye.

The walk to school flew by as it seemed that your body was stuck in a fast pace the entire way there. After finally arriving, you took a moment to catch your breath and slow down. It was odd for you to have walked that fast to school, considering you usually felt like just crawling back into bed and giving up on your education.

For sure though, today was going to be very different. Your very soul could feel the energy of today.

Walking to where your locker was, you sighed and opened it so you could put last night’s homework into it as well as your lunch, and then take out whatever you needed for your next few classes.

Closing the locker in a hurry, you rushed off to class with even more energy. Sitting down in your desk, you looked around the room letting your eyes wander to wherever they wanted to go. You were secretly hoping the whole reason today seemed different would show up and reveal itself to you.

The bell rang for class to begin and you decided it must not going to be happening anytime soon. But then there was the sound of the door opening. You lifted your head slightly from the notebook you were about to begin doodling in and were met with a boy.

He wasn’t looking at you, but the sight of him was making your insides flip and buzz with energy. You couldn’t describe the feeling it was giving you, everything about him was driving your mind, your body, and even your soul crazy.

Finally, he turned and your eyes met. As if the feeling of just looking at him wasn’t already overwhelming enough, having made eye contact with him was a whole new story. It was like a tsunami of energy and a buzz like feeling crashing over your body, rendering it numb and light.

When you were looking at him, everything felt good and happy. This must have been why you woke up in a happy mood today. Today was the day your soul had known you would be united with your soulmate. The person you were supposed to love forever and be together with.

Having been lost in his gaze, you finally smiled at him but got nowhere near the same reaction. He didn’t smile at all. There was a faint glare of annoyance in his eyes towards you that you could feel. It made the feeling of slight pain more amplified within you.

Did he not feel the same energy and spark from you? Were you mistaken? Or did you stare at him for so long that he finally decided you were just a creep? Your mind was racing as to why he would react in such a way to you. You knew you needed to talk to him though.

The teacher cleared her throat, “I’d like to introduce the new student to our class, Jeon Jungkook. I know he’s transferring a bit late into the semester, but please treat him kindly.” Jungkook bowed slightly to everyone and went to take an available seat.

Jeon Jungkook… how beautiful his name sounded, it flowed perfectly. You could only imagine getting the chance to share his last name and be together with him. Deciding to leave the fantasy there, you planned to try to talk to him after class. You needed to know that he was your soulmate and that you finally had someone who you could love and would love you equally the same.

The bell rang once again, and you quickly moved from your desk to catch Jungkook. You moved towards his desk as he was packing stuff away and tapped his shoulder, “Excuse me…”

His head shot up at the touch of your hand before sending another glare your way, “What do you want?”

“Um, well… it’s just that I felt this connection between us two, so I’m assuming we are soulmates, so…”

He scoffed, “So you’re wanting to talk, get to know each other, fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after? Well, guess what, I don’t care. I don’t believe in soulmates. I rather get to choose who I want to fall in love with.”

His words crushed you. Your happiness was shredded into tiny little pathetic crumbles of what it used to be. He shoved past you to get to his next class, leaving you dumbfounded at his words.

Did they hurt? Definitely, they hurt a lot. But you didn’t want to give up on him. You wanted him to see that he could fall in love with you just like he could anyone else, regardless if fate had chosen you or not.

You knew as soon as you get home, you had some questions for your mom.

Surely she would know how to help you with your little soulmate issue because things were not going as planned.

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

Rushing home as soon as the day had ended, you had thoughts rushing all throughout your head as you raced home. You had many questions for your mom, that you could only hope to remember all of them.

You were hopeful that she would be able to help you because otherwise, you weren't sure you knew exactly what to do with Jungkook. You wanted him to at least give you a chance, so you could get to know each other and then you could see if you wanted to move to something more serious than a friendship, but he wasn't even willing to give you that chance.

He didn't want your love, your friendship, or even to be associated with you in any way and that confused you. He didn't have to fall in love with you right away, in fact, you didn't want him to. You were hoping more for a friendship that would then blossom into a love that was felt by both of you, but no.

Unlocking the front door, you stepped inside to see your mom in the kitchen. “Mom,” you called out.

She turned to face you, “Yes?”

“I need to tell you something important.” Your mom’s eyebrows furrowed at your statement before she sat down at the dining table and invited you to sit across from her. You both sat down and she listened intently about what you had to say.

“You’re going to be happy at first, but I want you to listen to the full story before you react, okay?”

She nodded her head and waited for you to continue. “Well, I met my soulmate today. I’m pretty sure it was him, the experience was better than I could have ever imagined it to be, his name is Jungkook. Just looking at him made my heart pound in my chest. There’s a problem though. I tried to approach him about us being soulmates but he refused to think such a thing. He told me he didn’t believe in that type of stuff and that he wasn’t going to be with me just because some stupid fate decided we should be together. That doesn’t bother me but I’d at least like him to give me a chance you know? We don’t have to fall in love with each other, friendship is fine too. So I figured I could ask you or you could help me out. Please, mom, I need some help with this, this is very new to me and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Your mom let you finish your sentence completely as she then grabbed your hand from across the table to gently hold. “Honey, I know exactly what you are talking about, I can tell you are scared about this.”

You frowned getting teary-eyed, “What if he doesn’t want me and I can’t find anyone else?”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Listen, I’m sure he’s just as scared as you are right now too. Maybe not in the same way, but he’s also scared of falling in love so quickly. I know what he said hurt, but I think you should continue pursuing him. Just keep trying, I know once he gets to know you, he could easily come to love you.”

You nodded as you wiped a few stray tears away from your eyes. You knew it was the right thing to talk to her, she knew it was hard and she was going to try to help you get through it no matter what.

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

The next few days continued in the same way as the first day you had met Jungkook. You trying your best to make friends with him and get to know him, and him trying to ignore you and have nothing to do with you. It honestly got tiring for you, being pushed away like that was not good for you.

You could only keep yourself going with the idea of the end goal in mind of him finally giving you a chance. You didn’t have to be lovers right away, for now, and even for a while friends would have been fine with you.

Sadly, he never seemed to think the same way as you did about all of it. Your mom’s encouraging words about how your efforts would pay off, in the end, helped you keep yourself going.

That was until you felt a stabbing pain in your heart. There he was. Your eyes couldn’t tear away from him even if you wanted to, your heart felt as if it had stopped and shattered like glass in your chest.

Staring at his intertwined hand with another girl. You didn’t expect it to hurt this bad, but it did. It almost felt as if a part of you was dying, your heart to be exact. Little did you know though, that throughout your entire time chasing after Jungkook, you had someone watching you from afar with love.

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

Kim Taehyung. You didn’t know him very well, but you heard lots about him. Good and bad things but you had never talked to him before to even form a good opinion on him. He was good looking, funny, and extremely nice as you had heard but he also was a bit of a player when it came to relationships.

Never once did you think he’d come up to you one day and start talking to you though. “Hi, Kim Taehyung.” He put his hand out in front of you as he randomly introduced himself. You stood in mild shock at the gesture as it was odd and completely out of the blue.

You took his hand reluctantly and introduced yourself as well, “Kim y/n.” He gave you a boxy smile that had your stomach flip at the sight slightly.

Within minutes of talking with him, you oddly were at ease with him. Something about him was calming to be around and didn’t make you nervous.

What his intentions were with talking to you, you had no idea but you decided you’d watch it all play out first before you decided to do anything about it.

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

“So you’re telling me that you put pins on Mrs. Han’s chair?!” You asked in disbelief. Taehyung nodded happily as he was proud of his little prank that he had pulled on one of the meanest teachers you have ever come to know. “I can’t believe you did that, but you also did the whole school a favor.”

He laughed, “I know right?! No one can stand her at school and I doubt anyone could stand her in her own house. How she’s married no one knows.” You laughed along with him.

Ever since Taehyung and you had started talking, your mind was taken off of Jungkook. You hadn’t really thought much about him or tried to run after him recently. You were mostly preoccupied with Taehyung at school and even when you weren’t at school. He was constantly texting you even when you guys weren’t at school. He always had something to talk about and of course, they were always very random things, but overall funny topics.

Not to mention, Taehyung’s 2am random thoughts that he would often wake you up with whenever he had a question about the world that made no sense but he still wanted the answer to. Like the whole debate of if you cut off your leg where would you feel the pain? Because how are you supposed to feel the pain if your leg is cut off? You normally had an answer but this one you weren’t really sure about so you just let him run on his tangent.

Everything about Taehyung was confusing to you. Why he began to talk to you in the first place was beyond your comprehension. Not like it was easy to understand Taehyung’s mind at all either.

You didn’t think he was after you in a romantic sense or anything, or at least you didn’t get that feeling from him. Everything about him seemed friendly so you had no reason to believe his motives were ill. You liked the conversation he provided you with though so if you were happy you weren’t really going to question it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt someone tap your shoulder, turning around you saw Taehyung smiling happily at you. You smiled back, “What’s up?”

“You were lost in thought while I was calling your name so I had to tap your shoulder.”

“Sorry about that.” You gave an embarrassed laugh.

“It’s fine as I was saying before, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the arcade and get food after school.”

“Of course I do, there’s food involved after all.” He gave a hearty laugh at your statement. “Are you paying for the food?” You asked him hoping he would.

He gave you a glare as you only continued to smile at him with an innocent smile. “Fine, I’ll pay for your food too!” He broke. You cheered happily at getting free food because free food is some of the best food around.

“Meet me at the gates after class and we’ll go.” He said. You nodded your head and he waved as he let you go to your own class and him to his own. You turned back to look to the front of the classroom as you were waiting for it to start.

Your eyes caught onto the figure of the same man you hadn’t thought of in awhile due to Taehyung’s distraction and you felt your heart skip a beat as it always did when you saw him. Normally you would watch as he walked to his seat but you were too nervous today as for once his eyes were staring right back at you.

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

With class finally ending, you couldn’t wait to rush your way to the gates and meet Taehyung. You loved arcade games and plus that free food was waiting for you and calling your name.

Quickly packing your stuff into your bag, you fast walked to the door so you could beat Taehyung to the gate. You were about to walk out the classroom door but you were pulled back by your backpack. You whipped your head side to side to see Jungkook holding onto your backpack. You turned to face him, ripping your backpack out of his hand in the process. “What do you want?” You asked confused.

Jungkook never wanted to talk to you, so why did he want to talk all of a sudden. Especially if you were just about to leave to hang out with Taehyung. Jungkook was making no sense right now. “Follow me for a second.” He said.

“What? No, I have somewhere to go after school!” Jungkook only ignored you as he grabbed your wrist and led you up to the school rooftop. “What did you drag me all the way up here for?” You asked.

Jungkook tounged at his cheek at the question, “You do know you two won’t work out right?”

You wrinkled my forehead at his statement. “What do you mean?”

“You and Taehyung. You won’t work out. He’ll leave you once he finds his soulmate or whatever.” You sighed. Why did he even think there was something going on with you and Taehyung when there wasn’t. You were just friends. And why was it any of his business?

“We aren’t even dating though. We’re just friends.”

“Good, it should stay that way,” Jungkook said and suddenly left you on the rooftop.

You scoffed as you mocked him in your head. ‘yOu dO kNoW yOu tWo wiLL nEvER wOrk oUt riGhT?’ He does know that goes the same for the random girl he’s been with right? You rolled your eyes and walked out to go meet Taehyung even though you were late.

You met up with Taehyung who was waiting patiently at the gate for you to show up. “What took you so long?” He asked.

“Sorry I just got held up in class, the teacher had something they wanted to talk about.”You lied.

Taehyung looked like he didn’t fully believe your words but he had left it at that. “Oh okay, well ready to go?”

“Yeah let’s go!” You smiled. You weren’t going to let whatever happened with Jungkook ruin your time with Taehyung.

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

“You know something odd happened while I was waiting for you to show up,” Taehyung said all of a sudden as you watched him play a shooting game.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“You know that new guy, Jeon Jungkook? I think he’s in your class.”

You nodded your head, “Yeah I know him.”

“Well he came out a bit before you and I swear he looked at me and glared at me.”

You swallowed nervously. “Have you guys even talked to each other before?”

He shook his head, “Nope, I’ve seen him around but we’ve never talked. I don’t even know why he seemed pissed off at me, but he did.”

“Maybe he’s on his man period.”

Taehyung scoffed, “Maybe. The kid’s a bit weird.” I didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t see anything at all? Like you didn’t see him walk out as you were coming?”

“Nope, I wouldn’t know why he’s pissed off.” Taehyung only hummed in response before finally raging at dying in his game.

“Ready to go get that food?” He asked. You nodded and followed him out of the arcade to the pizza place not far down the street. You sat down as he went up to the counter to order a pizza for the two of you.

You just sat there as you got lost in thought. You hadn’t been thinking about Jungkook recently, but after today he was all that was on your mind. Taehyung sat down across from you as he waited for the pizza to be done.

“Thinking about something?” He asked.

You just shook your head, “Oh it’s nothing important.”

“Can I confess something to you?” He asked. You nodded your head.

“I’m pretty sure you’re hiding it for some reason, but I do know about you and Jungkook.”

You froze at his words. “What about it?”

“I just know you two talk sometimes. Before we started talking I saw you guys talking.”

“Are you upset?” You asked.

“No, I don’t know why you’re trying to hide it, but I just wanted you to know that it’s fine if you want to talk about it.”

You nodded, “Do you wanna know what happened today then?”

“Only if you feel comfortable talking about it.”

You nodded, “It’s fine I’ll tell you.”

He nodded, “Let me grab our pizza first.” He got up and walked to the counter to grab the pizza that the two of you would undoubtedly finish with no trouble. He set the pizza on the table and grabbed a slice for him and you. He started eating his slice as he stared at you waiting for you to tell what happened.

“Well, I was on my way to meet you at the gate, I actually tried to leave quickly because I wanted to beat you to the gate for once, but then Jungkook pulled me back. I told him I had to go meet you so I didn’t have time to talk with him but he dragged me up to the rooftop instead. He didn’t really have anything important to say he just said that you and me dating wouldn’t work out at all. You’d find your soulmate and leave me. Although I told him that you and I weren’t dating, to begin with, and all he said was good. I don’t really get him though. His words apply to him too with the random girl he’s been hanging around with.” You finished explaining and finally began eating your slice of pizza.

Taehyung was about to finish his first slice when you finally finished. “You want to know what I think?” He said.

You shrugged telling him to go ahead.

”Well one you’re dumb, it’s obvious he’s jealous of me. Two he’s also dumb because he was the one who pushed you away, to begin with.”

“Yeah I guess, but why is he jealous of you if we aren’t dating?”

”What if I told you that he has a right to be nervous and jealous of me?”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed before staring deeply into your eyes, “What I’m saying is what if I do like you and want to date you. Therefore he has a reason to be jealous of me and nervous about me asking you out.”

You sat there in disbelief. Was THE Kim Taehyung confessing to you? “You know he’s right though? We won’t work out in the end.”

He nodded, “I’m quite aware of him being your soulmate and that despite how he treats you, you still like him. But I still haven’t found my soulmate and he won’t accept you for now so what’s the issue of it being temporary.”

“I don’t know Taehyung. I don’t really want to become like another one of your girls…”

“You know I won’t treat you that way, but this could also help you. If we pretend to date, then maybe he’ll get even more jealous and finally grow the balls to tell you he feels the same.”

You sat there and thought about it. You do want Jungkook to like you back, but should you really possibly play with Taehyung’s feelings too? You didn’t know how serious Taehyung’s feeling were when it came to you, but you didn’t want to hurt him or be the cause of your friendship falling apart.

“This is really sudden, Taehyung and I know you want to help, but let me think about it okay?”

He nodded, “Of course you can text me your answer at any time. Don't worry about me or anything though okay? Just do what you gotta do to make that idiot realize who he really wants.”

You nodded as you both continued to eat the pizza. It was silent for a bit but it did not take long for Taehyung’s God-given power of being able to make random conversation and make it a comfortable one to come to life. It was almost as if the small talk you two had didn’t happen at all.

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

The time you spent thinking about Taehyung’s offer the more you were thinking about doing it. You really wanted Jungkook to give you a chance and maybe being with Taehyung or at least acting with him would give you that chance with him.

You were afraid of hurting Taehyung’s feelings in the end but you were also scared of losing your chance to get Jungkook to finally come to face the fact that he really loved you and he was just stubborn. You decided that it didn’t matter at this point anymore and grabbed your phone quickly opening yours and Taehyung’s messages.

You texted him the only thing you were thinking of. ‘I’ll do it.’ Taehyung sent back a bunch of weird emojis that made no sense but when did they ever. You just took it as him agreeing to help you with this little plan he suggested.

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

When you walked into school on Monday you knew things would have changed between you and Taehyung. Considering that Taehyung had texted you an elaborate ‘plan’ on what you two were going to do on Monday yesterday, you were prepared.

You put on a small amount of makeup to look a little less tired and dead then you normally looked as you waited for Taehyung to show up at the gate. You felt someone’s arms wrap around your waist from behind, startling you. You looked back and up at Taehyung who smiled happily at you. “Good morning.” He greeted.

”Good morning.” You said back slowly. He took your hand into his as he led you inside. He walked with you all the way to class as you two talked outside of your classroom about random things. He was still holding onto your hands as you talked, swinging them slightly. You could see that Taehyung seemed a bit more excited today than even his normal self.

Holding his hand didn’t feel weird like you had suspected though. It felt pretty normal and comforting in a way to the point you wouldn’t mind if he continued to hold it. He suddenly pulled you into a hug as he wrapped his arms around you and you hesitantly put yours around him. He looked down at you and smiled.

“Could you get out of the way? You’re blocking the doorway.” Someone said annoyed. You knew that voice from anywhere and saw Jungkook looked even more pissed off than you ever seen him.

Taehyung smirked, “Sorry man.” As he pulled you even closer to his body and out of the way of the doorway. Jungkook met your eyes and for a second you saw them flash a sheen of pain.

He walked inside and Taehyung loosened his grip on you. “Good job, honey.” He kissed your forehead before taking off his jacket and putting it over your shoulders. You gave him a questioning look, “It’s so he feels annoyed even when I’m not there.” He grinned. You nodded your head and walked into class as Taehyung left to go to his own.

You sat down at your desk as you began to put the stuff you needed for the class on your desk. You could feel his eyes on you. How could you not when he was staring at you so intensely. You could almost feel his tension radiating from his body. You looked up slightly as he was gripping his pen in hand almost to the point of it breaking.

He wasn’t necessarily staring at you though. You followed his line of vision to the very jacket Taehyung had put around your shoulders.

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

Breaking Jungkook(as Taehyung had put it) only took a few days of acting from you and Taehyung. Come Thursday, Jungkook had grown tired of just watching and here you were on the rooftop with him. “Why did you drag me up here again? I have to go meet Taehyung for lunch.” You said.

He scoffed, “You said you weren’t dating him.”

“Why do you care? It’s none of your business what I do with Taehyung now is it?”

“It is my business when you’re my soulmate!”

“So what? You can go off and date a bunch of random girls while I sit and wait obediently for you to come to me? But the minute I go after another guy, suddenly you care? How does that make any sense Jeon Jungkook? Tell me how doe-”

His lips were on yours within seconds as his arms wrapped around your waist. There it was again. The butterflies, the sparks, the fireworks you name it you had it going on when he had kissed you. He continued to kiss you and even though you were shocked, you didn’t believe he planned on pulling away anytime soon. You were so close to slipping into him and wrapping your arms around his neck. So close.

Your last ounce of will power was the only thing that held you together and helped you push him off of you. “Jeon Jungkook!” You shouted at him.

He looked at you while panting slightly and pushing his hair back and off his forehead slightly. Damn was it a sight but you had to hold yourself together.

“Jungkook! Just because you kiss me does not mean all our problems are gone! Listen I’m with Taehyung right now. Don’t expect me to come running right back just because you finally did something you could have done a month ago.”

You quickly turned on your heel and went for the door only to be pulled back again.

His arms were around your waist again but his voice was softer this time, “Listen, I know I made mistakes. And me kissing you or even telling you all of this won’t necessarily change your mind but I need to say it. I’m sorry for doing all that. Yelling at you, ignoring you and your feelings. You made it very clear to me that you weren’t even looking for commitment straight off the bat and I still refused to even be friends with you to start with. I didn’t give you a chance. I’m sorry and I realized my mistake. I know it’s late, but I just can’t stand it anymore. I can’t stand to see Taehyung’s smug smiles as he watches me stare at you two, I can’t stand it when you walk around wearing his jacket, I can’t stand seeing your hand in his, seeing his arms around you or when he kissed your forehead or cheek. I can’t stand it anymore.”

You stayed silent despite your heart cracking a little bit. You felt bad that he was hurt by your actions with Taehyung but he did the same thing didn’t he? You were confused. You wanted to tell him it was okay or that it would soon be okay but then Taehyung would flash in your mind with his smile. He treated you so well. He made you happy. He was always happy with you. Everything about him was perfect.

“I’m sorry Jungkook, but I need time.” You finally said as you took his arms off of you and ran down the stairs and all you could think of was going home. You were confused, didn’t feel good, and needed time away from both Taehyung and Jungkook.

You unlocked the door to your house not even feeling guilty at all about skipping school. You walked up to your room and shut the door behind you as you sat down on your bed and sighed.

You sent a quick text to Taehyung saying sorry and that you had gone home early because you didn't feel well. You shut your phone off and cuddled into your blankets and pillows.

Jungkook he was your soulmate the answer should have been clear, yet why were you doubting it. Why were you afraid to leave Taehyung’s side. Nothing of yours and Taehyung’s relationship was real it was all acting. Yet he always looked so at peace and happy when he was with you even if Jungkook wasn’t watching. You didn’t want to destroy that.

You groaned into your pillow.

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

You stayed home the next day as well. It wasn’t until Sunday that finally, Taehyung came to your house after you had been ignoring all his texts. Your mom had let him into the house and he had knocked on your bedroom door. You opened it and came face to face to him. He immediately looked at you and spoke, “What’s wrong?”

You felt sad, “I’m sorry.”

He sighed as if he knew what was already happening. “It’s time isn’t it.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed slightly, “Why are you apologizing we knew the time was coming.” You hadn’t been looking at him but you heard his voice crack slightly at the end of his sentence. Taehyung had tears coming down his face.

“Taehyung…” You called out his name as you went to touch his face.

He moved back, “Huh? Why am I crying? I knew this was bound to happen. I’m supposed to be happy for you, right?”

You started tearing up seeing him cry over it. “Taehyung, is there something you haven’t told me?” You asked quietly.

He froze.

“Do you believe in two people being able to have the same soulmate..?” He finally said.

You looked up at him in shock. Two people having the same soulmate.

“Taehyung that can’t be…”

“Trust me I didn’t think it was possible either, but here I am. Miserably in love with you, despite knowing that you are destined to Jungkook.”

He slid down the wall and sat down. You sat next to him to comfort him. “Why did this happen to me? Why did it have to happen to be with someone who couldn’t even be mine? Am I being punished?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone better than me.” Was all You said.

He finally got up and wiped his tears. “I should go. After all, he doesn’t even know yet that you’ve made your decision.”

“I’m sorry Taehyung.”

“Don’t be.” He said as he left your room and escorted himself out of your house.

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

Today was the day to tell Jungkook. You hadn’t heard from Taehyung since yesterday but you figured he needed time. You saw Jungkook and grabbed his hand, “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay.” He softly agreed.

He let you lead him up to the rooftop where it seemed you always had your talks.

“I broke up with Taehyung.”

Jungkook looked up in shock quickly. “You did what?”

“I’ve made my decision. After all, how could I not choose you right? You’re my soulmate, you’re my forever…”

Jungkook pulled you quickly into his arms. “I'm so glad. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

He kept thanking you as you held him tightly. He removed his face from your neck and looked you straight in the eyes before meeting his lips with yours.

You closed your eyes and softly kissed him back this time. Letting your body melt completely into his. Jungkook was all on your mind.

He finally pulled away and sighed, “I’m already addicted what am I supposed to do? I hope you know I’m not leaving your side now.”

You gave out an airy laugh, “I’m just fine with that.”

He smiled before connecting his lips with yours again. He lifted you into the air and gave you the biggest smile you ever saw.

“Thank you for choosing me and giving me another chance. I promise I won't let myself abandon you ever again.”

A/n: I wrote this and every time I reread it or edited it I felt my heart break for Taehyung ;(

#jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #BTS jungkook #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #bts one shot #bts imagines #bts scenarios #kpop #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook soulmate au #taehyung soulmate au #absent souls

94 notes · View notes

svtskneecaps · 5 years

Text

Walls Could Talk Part 12 ~ something i need to tell you

(Seventeen Fic, Superpower! Non-Idol! High school! AU)

You’re just a high school kid trying to survive your senior year. Seems simple enough. Problem is, you landed a major crush on a good looking transfer student, and unfortunately, the both of you are hiding some abilities that are a bit less than normal, and there’s a ghost you thought you buried in your past that’s rearing his ugly head. So… maybe this won’t be as easy as you were hoping.

< Prev | First | Masterlist | Next >

warnings: descriptions of anxiety attacks. skip from the marker (2) to the end (you’re not missing much crucial information but i can and will summarize if you're concerned)

feel free to tell me if i need to extend the section, i thought i got the worst of it but as someone with mild issues i have no real experience and want it to be as safe as possible for people; and tell me if i need to add another section (i’ll be out of state when this goes up so i might not be able to get to it right away..... i’m sorry)

“Is there anywhere private we can talk here?”

What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

Faced with Jun’s earnest and almost concerned expression, you stammer out something about outside during lunch. He gives the window an appraising glance. It’s been cooling down quickly, hovering in the low forties most days. He must've seen something he liked, because he turned back to you and said, “Lunch then?”

No really, what the hell are you supposed to say to that?

You drop into your seat as the bell rings, breathless and terrified, your stomach churning like a hurricane as you whip out the math homework due a week ago, the numbers doing little to settle your nerves. That could mean any number of things. Did he notice your none-too-subtle crush? Was he doing this to kindly turn you down? Did he share the sentiment? Or did he--you buried your face behind a tangle of hands and hair, trying to hide the trembling wracking your shoulders--did he find the article from all those years ago and want to confront you about it, forgetting that it was public, that it was immortalized in the online archives? You were joking when you texted 8; no matter how approachable Jun was you had never, never considered telling him. You’d thought it was buried so deep they could never find it.

But it would never really be buried far enough. And, as you dragged yourself out of your protective cocoon for a cursory google of your name, there it was. The first result, since you had long pulled accounts with your name on them off the search results after constant reminders. The unpleasant feeling leaked out of your stomach, lead infecting your veins.

“Last Friday, a local teen was hospitalized after--”

You slammed the computer shut on instinct as it began to read the article aloud to you, like a setting you couldn't shut off. A flush spread across your cheeks as everyone looked back at you. Their gazes lasted only a second, but they tore worse than claws. This whole damn thing was bringing up more memories than you cared to admit, you should've shut down the train before it left the station, should've shut up and sat down and stifled it. He was probably just going to turn your crush down (and in light of the alternatives, it was almost a relief to think that).

You shoved the computer in your backpack as it continued reading, words for your ears alone, muffled and distorted but you’d stared at that damn article for hours after that first day back enough that every word was ingrained in your memory and every rumor rattled in your brain and whispered in your ears when it was quiet, overpowering the comforting chatter of all the objects around you. You put your headphones in and played music as loud as you dared. “Ten minutes,” the clock helpfully reminded you. Ten minutes to the reckoning, for everything to come collapsing down on you. You made a mental note to ask Miss Mendes if you could go to the nurse after lunch; you didn't dare come back here.

Two minutes to Armageddon. You’d asked Miss Mendes. You must've looked sicker than you thought because she didn't hesitate to agree. You'd long finished your math homework, even though you kept breaking your pencil lead and ripping holes in the paper. You fiddled with your pencil, staring at the clock with no small amount of apprehension, trying not to think.

You could hear the class in the background working on a worksheet together, Seokmin’s excited voice rising to the top and making you drowsy, against all logic (not that you particularly minded). Time blurred as your head slumped onto your arms.

The bell broke through your dazed stupor, sending everything crashing back. Your hands started to shake again as you fumbled with your ID, keys jingling against it as you stood. Jun was waiting by the door already, and you lead the way through the halls.

Out by the mascot statue on the side lawn, you’d heard, was the best place to talk privately. From there you could see all angles, and between the mascot’s feet was a small space where one could conceal oneself from all angles. Nobody tended to use it for talking, exactly, but you were banking on Jun not knowing the usual implications of the spot.

“So,” you said, crammed into a spot behind the mascot’s knee, back pressed against the cold statue, speaking in a vain attempt to cover your mounting terror, “what’s up?”

“I--” he started. And then stopped. And then hesitated. And oh no.

Your nerves jangled like your keys, and you had to tear your eyes away, forcing yourself to trace over the graffiti keyed into the statue before you spilled some beans that shouldn't go in the soup. If he didn't know about the article, or your crush, or your-- other thing, then you didn't want to tip him off.

“You-- speak Korean, don't you?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Of everything, that? “That's what we had to talk about?”

“Well, no,” he said (and boy if that didn't send you spiraling back). “I just-- I don't trust my English. And this is important.”

Do you admit it? The secret you’ve held this whole semester? Lay your cards before you? It wasn't really even a question. “Well, my speaking isn't-- I’m not comfortable speaking it,” you said, starting over before you diss yourself because by god you're trying not to. “But if you speak slowly I should understand most things.”

He nodded, and then stared out across the lawn. You went back to tracing the graffiti, hearts with initials from the eighties and the sixties and the twenty tens scratched on the mascot’s heels. An anarchy symbol between the toes. A--

“I’mamindreader,” Jun exploded.

Your head shoots up. “Slower?”

“I--” he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can't think of a delicate way of putting this. I’m a mind reader.”

Oh.

(2)

Should you have guessed? Maybe you should have guessed. But- no, what kind of crazy assumption would that have been?? Yes, you talked to objects that didn't have voices on a daily basis but that didn't mean you were just up and guessing what strange power your friends would have, especially after- no he might be listening don't you dare but your heart jumped into your throat unbidden. He was saying something but you felt miles away, watching his mouth move through a telescope because how much did he know?? With the guilt on his face you were sure it was everything and it was like everything you feared most had collided, the car crash morphing into a t-bone between a gas tanker and a train because he knew about your crush knew about the Bad Place knew about Derek knew knew knew he’d violated the one space you’d thought was sacred you wanted to throw up.

“I need space,” you choked out, hands reaching clumsily to pull yourself out of the alcove, and it wasn't the graceful exit you wanted and you felt like every emotion was plastered on your face and you didn't even hear his response as you all but sprinted across the lawn, running for your car as fast as humanly possible.

You collapsed into the driver’s seat and hid your head behind the steering wheel and your hair and your hands, desperately trying not to cry. You already regretted your harsh exit (he’d bared his soul to you and this was how you repaid it? god, you were just vying for the worst, weren’t you, you ranked up there with Derek) but if you'd stayed longer--

You couldn't. You’d done enough harm just by admitting it in the first place. He was your friend, he’d brought you into the fold, and you were terrified of an aspect of himself he couldn't change? And with your reaction, he probably thought you hated him, would never speak to him again. How was he to know you’d panicked on the spot? (unless he was in your mind again but you didn't want to think about it because that was much much worse than him just seeing hatred; he didn't deserve to be dragged into a panic attack no one did it was the most selfish thing you’d ever done).

You sent Miss Mendes a shakily typed email, wishing you’d thought to grab your stuff before leaving. You just thought you'd feel well enough to grab your stuff, no matter which bomb he dropped on you. She shot back a response immediately, concerned but not prying. She promised to leave your stuff by the door, and honestly the twelve thank yous you typed in your response didn't even cover it (what had a person like you done to deserve an understanding angel of a teacher like her?).

Your car threatened to run them over a couple times before realizing it wasn't helping and subsided. There wasn’t much she could offer, right then. You didn't want to talk (you’d explode if you even dared open your mouth).

The walk back up to the building was excruciating. Every step was a chore. Against all logic you felt eyes on you the whole time, judging, whispering, pitying, The hallways were empty, and the feeling just persisted. Each step echoed off the walls, impossibly loud.

True to her word, Miss Mendes had left your things just inside the door. You avoided eye contact, hiding your face with the door and only opening it wide enough to grab your things (you knew what you’d find if you looked up, hatred and betrayal and just the thought made you nauseous).

You spent the remainder of the day in the counseling center. (they let you alphabetize the files in the back room, with the lights off, once you said you couldn't talk about it and just needed a place to hide calm down)

#seventeen #wen junhui #seventeen au #wen junhui au #junhui #seventeen scenarios #junhui scenario #wen junhui imagines #seventeen imajines #seventeen fluff #wen junhui fluff #seventeen angst #wen junhui angst

69 notes · View notes

comicteaparty · 4 years

Text

March 28th-April 3rd, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from March 28th, 2020 to April 3rd, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

How many hours do you work on your comic per week, and how do you manager to balance that with other responsibilities?

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

heheh So we are.. cheating a bit Both me and my coworker are unemployed, and is working on hour comic, like was it a full time job. It is our passion project, and dream that we can work and live of makeing comics. In Denmark you can apply for grants from the government, but you need to have releashed a book before that is possible. We are useing the comic, to show potentional clients in the future what we can do. For now we are working on it from 09:00-17:00 ish (with a long lunch break) while applying for other kinds of grants, and also does all the things we are supposed to to get our unemplyment money, and searching for jobs, and freelance gigs, gathering the courage to start our own small company (not right now though) and yeaah time will tell

carcarchu

@Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS that doesn't sound like cheating to me? more like using the tools at your disposal to turn your passion into a viable career

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

hehe it feels a little like cheating! there are some debates about if it is okay or not, but we think that strengthening our skills is a good use of our time

eli [a winged tale]

Haha also not cheating! It’s great you’re using the time to chase the dream I’m curious what’s your breakdown for those time working on the comic? As for me, usually 1-2 hours a day with a bit more on the weekend if time permits. These days with the quarantine it’s about 2-3 h a day

DanitheCarutor

Since I'm unemployed until who knows when I've been working on my comic between 40-50 hours a week about 6 to 7 days a week... most weeks. Some days, like update day or chore day, I hardly work on the comic or don't work on it at all. Admittedly I'm not the best at balancing drawing with other responsibilities, sometimes I get so into it that I forget about daily house chores, other weeks I do the opposite and only do house chores which makes me totally behind of comic stuff. I can't seem to find a good middle ground, it always turns into completely focusing on one or the other.

eli [a winged tale]

Yeah when I get in the zone, time flies and life gets put to the wayside

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

So I have no school or work, so the webcomic has become almost a fulltime project for me

I average about 10 hours per day working on it, not counting on chores and exercise

Another thing I worry about is the possibility of carpal tunnel syndrome, which is why I've been relentless with exercise, too

I guess it's just a combination of relentless reminders and also sheer willpower that gets me to do other responsibilities haha

@eli [a winged tale] also I know that feeling

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

So since my school had to cancel, I have to be more responsible for my online course. Sometimes I give myself 2 days off each week to work more into my upcoming webcomic but I have to switch my mind for school work, online classes. Also extra time for food. I need to get back into exercise or I feel exhausted more easily. I keep a wall schedule so that I make it a routine to write what I'll do every 3 or 5 days, to keep my active brain reminded(edited)

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I spent the majority of last year (fun)employed (partially by choice, partially not! my previous job let me go rather unceremoniously... and I needed a hiatus anyway... so it worked out) so I poured a lot more hours into that chapter of Phantomarine than I usually did. I worked on it almost every day - at least for a couple of hours, but sometimes up to a full eight-hour day. That number has dipped tremendously since I’ve gone back to work, but I’m spreading the same amount of time out in a broader way. I’m trying to get a good buffer during my hiatus, so I can work and draw in a healthy balance. I don’t have crazy overtime at my current job like I did at my last one, so that’s already a comfort. I’m confident I’ll be able to hit a good stride once the comic returns in June (edited)

eli [a winged tale]

Can’t wait Lady!!

Feather J. Fern

Two part time jobs, and school killed my comic, but I been working on getting one panel done a day, which is around 30minutes to an hour if possible.

eli [a winged tale]

My routine used to be rendering on the commute but now just once in am and once pm until this limbo time is clarified

That’s awesome Feather! It’s so rewarding when everything comes together after putting effort everyday

Feather J. Fern

Once school is done in two more weeks I will be more free to do things so I hope to get maybe two panels done in a day XD

Online school, stupid quarantine

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Due to the pandemic im mostly off school and my part time job so i spend like 4-5 hours on my comic per day. Still would like try to get a page done per day but lmao digital painting is slowwww

eli [a winged tale]

What’s everyone’s tips for breaks/stretches/balance? I feel like I certainly need to revisit these to avoid burnout and continue feeling motivated!

Feather J. Fern

Actually there was a cool manga artist who's tip was literally he only worked working hours. His mornings are free and since manga was his job, he worked form 12-6, giving him 2 hours to do other work he needs to get done, and takes morning walks and stuff.

Another person I know had "No working weekends" as a thing becuase they are a freelancer.

I personally have try to make sure I ahve a routine, and actually, stretch before drawing.

Streetch before, during a break, and then after, to keep that body nice and warmed up

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Health-wise there's this hing for your : every 20 minutes, look at something 20 feet away for 20 seconds. I'm not good at following this, but when I do it, it helps a lot.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Despite the current pandemic, my work-life hasn't changed much (unless you count stress getting in the way). I am currently "unemployed," but I do consider comicking my full-time job. I am also not very good at balancing work and life. Something's always gotta give. Last year, I worked at a job that basically ruined my ability to work on my comic. I worked 30-40 hours typically, ruined my sleep schedule, took work home sometimes, and was constantly exhausted. This is what resulted in my year and a half long hiatus, and it's what drove me to work like hell on my comic when I quit. Now (when I'm in the groove and not suffering from art block), I typically spend 60-70 hours on my comic and get 2-3 pages done: - 30 hours sketching (I know, ridiculous) - 5 hours filling in base colors - 20-25 hours painting - 5 hours adding text, speech bubbles, sfx, and finishing touches - 1-2 hours formatting for Webtoon I also spend some time throughout the week typing up the script, doing concept art for things coming in the future of the comic, and preparing for conventions, but I can't tell you exactly how much time.

eli [a winged tale]

Thanks for the breakdown! I’m always keen to learn from everyone and seeing how the workflow is like for different people

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

oh don't forget to do wrist stretches!

eli [a winged tale]

Ahh formatting time is always so tedious for me!

Yes wrist exercises! Any recommendations?

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

hmmm well the easiest one is literally just shaking it out

like every hour

and I also like to hold my arm out parallel, point my fingers up and using my other hand to pull the fingers back so i'm stretching the wrist

then I point the fingers down and pull on the fingers until my wrist is stretching

eli [a winged tale]

Awesome. Will be adopting those!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I'm pretty fast. 2-6 hours per page, depending on how detailed it is. Average of 3-4. I could probably do 2 pages/ week easily enough, but don't want to do more than that. I'm the kind of person who always needs to be doing a million different things. I need to leave time for my other hobbies and my paintings and my academics and extracurriculars. Otherwise I'd get burnt out doing one thing only

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

@eli [a winged tale] So since it is both me and @Q (Wayfinders: Off Course) working, we start with working on a rough each, our goal is one step (so rough, ink, color) for two pages pr day, pr person. So in a weak the goal is four finished pages a week, and then we upload 3 pages per week. So it is divided that in the morning we start at 09:00 in the morning, maybe checking mail, being practical or whatever. Then we work until 12:00 were we eat lunch, go for a long nice walk and then we go back to work between 13:00 and 14:00 ish and then work until 17:00 when we begin to prepare dinner. Then of course breaks inbetween

Q (Wayfinders: Off Course)

It’s pretty wild to be able to dedicate your entire day to comics like that

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

damn you all work fast

do you guys have any tips on how to work on a webcomic faster?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Lol, I wish!

Still looking for those magical secrets

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

@shadowhood (SunnyxRain) You know the 80-20 rule? You can get 80% of the result with 20% of the effort? My comic is very messy if you zoom in. I don't spend time making sure the linework or the coloring is perfectly clean. Also, I'm pretty fast at drawing figures. I used to practice figure drawing a lot by rushing to draw strangers irl before they moved, or by drawing a bunch of fast figures from the free figure drawing model websites online. I've also taken a figure drawing course (didn't even have to pay because it was part of my university! Even if you don't have that option you can probably find free life drawing sessions on Meetup or similar!) which really helped me streamline my process for drawing people

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Oh I see! Yes, I used to take life drawing classes too! And your response makes me feel a lot better

I tend to be a bit messy with inking, and since i'm a perfectionist a lot of my time is wasted on editing/clean up

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I've seen cronaj draw, and while I think the results look excellent, I think her method is a kind of inefficient. She draws like a printer, nearly finishing one detailed body part before moving on the the next. I think maybe if she drew in a more classical way, going from a gesture drawing to progressively more detailed, it might help her be faster and her poses more cohesive and dynamic. Maybe working on 1 or 5 min figures would help? Practicing things like this?

eli [a winged tale]

Yeah I try to do figure practices for efficiency

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I heard that there are some online life drawing vids you can follow too

but what are your experiences with online life drawing vids versus the real thing

like is there a real difference?

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

found some of my old 1 minutes

To me there's not too much difference

I've heard some people say that life drawing is either way easier or way harder though. Because of your depth perception when looking at a real person

But the bruises on my legs can attest to my horrid depth perception haha. That might be why I don't notice a difference

Actually those previous sketches might be 30 seconds? I don't remember

I would recommend you try both but right now we pretty much only have the online option haha

eli [a winged tale]

Yeah I’ve done both and I think irl creates complexity with depth and the interactions with others etc is helpful but online is my go to for flexibility

I think having a process streamlined will make things more efficient. The downside is that it might feel tedious and I do switch it up from time to time for variety

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Might feel uncomfortable but that's how you know you're improving

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

There is a TON of difference for me. I HAVE to look at a physical model in front of me.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Can't get better if you always do the same things

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

This is what my brain does.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I wonder- could drawing yourself in a mirror be a decent substitute?

If youre lucky you might also be able to ask an SO or roommate to model for you. Should probably pay them back by cooking for them or something though

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Brain: sees a real model in front of me Brain: translates 3D to 2D, result: drawing Brain: sees a photo/video of a model Brain: SHIT. That's supposed to be 3D, isn't it? Brain: Translates 2D to 3D (basically re-constructing it in my head, or attempting to re-construct) so that it can translate it back to 2D Brain: BSOD

There's some online resources out there that have "3D" photos... you know, two near-identical images side by side, so if you look at it cross-eyed, it becomes 3D?

But I can't do those because I get a headache X'D

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Just thinking about drawing from that makes me dizzy

eli [a winged tale]

Oh interesting!

Yeah maybe looking out the window to draw people would be the way to go...

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

But maybe figure drawing in VR exists?

eli [a winged tale]

Balcony figure drawings

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I live on the top floor so those are going to be some very small figures

eli [a winged tale]

For ants

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Once this coronavirus thing is over, there's lots of ways you can do gesture drawings from just random people -- bus stops, cafes, museums (I have not done this, but people who have done this report this is really good because others assume you're drawing the artworks. XD)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I've done this a lot

Sometimes I've even shown people drawing of themselves if they've turned out particularly nice

They've always taken it well

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I like drawing my professors because they use hand gestures a lot when they talk

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Airport was REALLY good for finding people stuck in one pose indefinitely

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

they alwayas laugh when I show them

eli [a winged tale]

Shadow omg I do that too

Draws classmates

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

yeah the only issue i have with drawing classmates

is that they're always doing the "i'm using my phone" pose

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Become the master of drawing people on their phones

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Maybe try drawing children on the playground?

This works better if you're a woman

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

oh thank jesus

I also like going to the zoo or the museum

or the aquarium if i'm feeling adventurous

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I am a University student so I also have some pretty interestng drawings of people asleep in weird poses

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I really need to start going to weekly figure drawing sessions once this is over (there's one here... 20 min drive... 8AM Saturdays )

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

ditto or just go to the park and draw

and @Eightfish (Puppeteer) I've had some.....weird poses from all my profs

one guy was incredibly hard to draw; he was VERY enthusiastic about showing us knife skills

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

The parks here are too spacious, to a degree where it's weird to get close enough to people

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Bring binoculars

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Don't worry ma'am I'm an artist

nothing sketchy

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

(except my sketch)

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

A+ pun right there

another place to go for figure drawing

theaters

like.....opera/plays

I once tried drawing the men dancing in the Newsies musical

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Tried that once, but it took me out of the performance

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

same i was dazzled by dancing men

aaaaand then i abandoned sketching at all when they started throwing newspaper strips into the audience

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

But they were giving you free paper!

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

THEY WERE

i'll take what i can get

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) While I agree that my method of drawing is "inefficient," I do not draw like a printer. There are videos of people drawing like a printer and it's not what I'm doing. I have done gesture drawing before, but it always looked incredibly abstract, and not quite like people, which is fine, but not what I'm going for. I treat gesture drawing like a warm-up exercise. It doesn't really do anything for my end result, but gets my drawing muscles stretched out.(edited)

eli [a winged tale]

Gesture drawings are definitely a good warmup!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Perhaps it was an inappropriate analogy. What works for me I guess wouldn't work for everyone. I was trying to offer advice because whenever you talk about how much time you spend on art and you work life balance it's commendable but also dismaying. I hope you find something that works for you in the future

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Oh god.. I sometimes work 6 hours a day. I guess thats like 30 hours a week? Crazy to think about, it's like a full job

Oooh you guys are sharing figure drawings... I swant to show some of mine

Behold

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

My figure drawing usually breaks down into like, medical anatomy study. I feel like I understand body shapes better by including the muscles & bones

carcarchu

ABS the most important figure study

Deo101 [Millennium]

ah figure drawing? I love figure drawing ^^

I do like a lot but this kinda thing is most of it

anyways as for the question at hand, I do a lot of different things for my comics weekly. My millennium pages take me 2-6 hours i would say, but I also have patreon things I need to do so I'd say i spend 10-15 hours on it a week. for my other comic, I spend about 6 hours an update, and it updates every other week. but honestly, all of my free time goes to assorted comics. If i'm not working on school work or chatting with people, I'm working on things for patreon, potential merch, or other comics I want to start sometime.

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Oooh nice poses!!’

Deo101 [Millennium]

thanks!! I have a ton of gesture/figure drawings but these ones are my most recent that I have saved to my computer i think

10 minutes im pretty sure. very good for speeding up

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Those look really nice, good values

Deo101 [Millennium]

thanks ^^ I really hate working in charcoal honestly, it kinda always winds up hurting my body somehow, but its very quick sooooooo

kayotics

My answer for the prompt question has changed a lot since I started quarantine lmao... I used to do about 10 hours of work throughout the week on my comic page (usually after work, I have an office job) but ironically it’s gotten harder while I work from home. I’ve been struggling to find time since I don’t have a separation between work and home now, and putting the boundaries up of “I’m not always available” to coworkers is difficult.

Also on figure studies: they’re a great way to practice speed. I use the concepts of figure drawings all the time.

RebelVampire

@kayotics As someone who always works from home doing remote contract work, I have to say I think this is something a lot of people underestimate about work at home life. In that it's sometimes really difficult to establish boundaries with ppl and make them understand you aren't always available and also aren't gonna work billions of hours of overtime. So I'm sorry to hear that's affecting your comic work.

Shadowmark Productions

I work anywhere from 6-8 hours a day on comic stuff. That’s an average though. Sometimes I slack and need to pull all nighters to make up for it. Yes, I am terrible at time management. They say entrepreneurs are the only people willing to work 80 hours a week for themselves so they do not have to work 40 hours a week for someone else. I guess webcomic creators are the only people willing to work 80+ hours a week so that they can... go to work for someone else afterwards

AntiBunny

4 days of procrastinating, 1 of procrastinating and hating myself, and 2 of actual comic drawing seems to make up my weekly comic making schedule. :p

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I can only imagine how stressed I would be if I forced myself to update weekly

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

This is a hard question to answer because it varies a lot depending on my energy levels. Ideally I’d spend several hours a day on comics, but realistically I draw as much as possible when I have the energy (5+ hours a day for as many days in a row as I can handle it) and then go weeks or months too tired to do comics. On average, barring any long periods of exhaustion or other interruptions from RL, I spend about 20+ hours a week making pages for my comics.

sagaholmgaard

I prefer to work on my comic for about an hour ever morning and maybe 2-3 hours in the evening, that's the ideal routine for me. Right now I sadly have a lot of schoolwork to do (writing my thesis) so i might get less than 30 minutes in the morning and then feel rlly tired in the evening so I dont get as much time then either. but oh well!

I can still work for 4-5 hours on the weekends so I manage ^^(edited)

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

The whole stay-indoors order's currently completely wrecked my pattern, but before that I did between 3-4 hours a day.

Shadowmark Productions

Can’t imagine the stress of a daily or even weekly posting schedule. Hats off.

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #creator babble #creator interview #comic creator interview #comic tea party #ctp

1 note · View note

master-sass-blast · 5 years

Text

Found Family, Part One --Wade.

I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE. I HAVE BEEN PLANNING THIS PIECES FOR M O N T H S.

Summary: A brief look at yours and Wade’s siblingship, and all that it entails.

Rating: T for adult language, mentions of abuse/mental health issues/suicide, and mild angst.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader and Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson.

@marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie

Some say that the two of you together are a disaster. A cruel joke by the universe unfairly cast upon the rest of society. A recipe for total destruction.

You know better than to buy into what any of the bystanders and onlookers say. The two of you, while admittedly destructive, are like air to each other; without one another, neither of you would be able to survive.

Wade Wilson is your –adoptive—brother, you’re his –adoptive—sister, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The technical beginning of your wonderful sibling-ship with Wade Wilson starts when you help him prank Scott Summers in the dead of night, but that’s not where things really started. At least, not in your view of things.

No, they start the next day, when Wade knocks on your door half an hour before noon. He’s dressed in the most outrageous, neon pink and green Hawaiian shirt, orange camo jeggings, and bright, ‘fuck you’ blue Crocs.

“You eat lunch yet?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the way your eyes are blinking their protest at the amalgamation of colors he’s wearing.

“Uh… no?”

“Great!” He loops an arm around your shoulders and steers you down the hall. “Let’s go get some! I’m buying.”

Dopinder, as it turns out, is a sweet and gentle soul –despite his weird thirst for vengeance. He drives the two of you to a downtown diner –and takes Wade’s weirdness with considerable grace and stride, which isn’t something you’ve witnessed from anyone else yet—and drops you off with the promise to wait until the two of you are done eating.

“I’m pretty sure you’re shafting his ability to earn a livable income,” you say as a waitress seats you and Wade at a booth adjacent to a window.

Wade snorts. “As if. One, I tip him in chicken nuggets, which is more than anyone else ever does. B, I’m helping him get into the mercenary industry, which pays way better than driving a fucking taxi ever will. And four, he doesn’t mind.”

You open your menu, start scanning the options, then freeze.

There’s so many choices –fuck, you’ve never even eaten out at a proper restaurant before. Your parents were too focused on ‘keeping you safe’ to let you have a proper childhood, dammit.

“Don’t know what to do?” The corner of Wade’s mouth turns up when you give him a ‘deer in headlights’ look. “I figured you probably didn’t have much experience with this. Russell didn’t either. Consider today your crash course in ‘how the world works.’”

“…Thanks.” You look down at the menu quickly to hide the tears that are already blurring your vision. “Uh, what do I get?”

“Whatever you want! They do all day breakfast here, and –in my opinion—there’s no bad time to eat a pancake.”

You smile. Pancakes do sound good. You peruse the menu for a moment longer, and the waitress is back to take your orders.

Wade orders a mountain of food. If he notices the way the waitress’s eyes bug out while he rattles off his insanely long order, he doesn’t let it stop him. He just keeps going, and her pen keeps flying across the page of her little book.

When he finishes, she turns to you, looking somewhat shell-shocked. “And for you, sweetheart?”

You copy Wade’s method of ordering –but not the length of his order. “Pancakes, bacon on the side, extra maple syrup, please.”

The look of relief on her face is almost comical as she jots that down. She promises to have everything out “as quick as possible,” then takes your menus and walks away.

Wade grins at you. “Look at you. You’re a natural!”

You can’t help but grin back.

You spend the rest of the day with Wade –and Dopinder, since he has to drive the two of you around. Wade takes you to various stores, having you buy yourself something –a book, a movie, a scarf—at each place so you can get used to interacting with people and handling monetary transactions.

You’re touched in a way that you can’t begin to describe. Sure, Professor Xavier and his team of mutants can help you get your mutation-related abilities under control, but no one’s offered to help you integrate into the real world yet. It’s like Wade’s thrown you a life-line you didn’t realize you needed.

When Dopinder drops the two of you off at the mansion, Colossus is waiting for you on the front step, arms crossed over his massive chest and a disapproving frown set on his face. “Taking young ones of property without permission is not allowed, Wade. You know this.”

“Okay, first of all, she’s not a ‘young one;’ she’s over eighteen, which means she’s allowed to come and go as she pleases. Even I know enough law stuff to know that. Secondly—”

“We’ll try to give you a head’s up next time, Colossus,” you interject before things can too far out of hand. “Sorry for making you worry.”

His expression softens considerable as his gaze switches over to you. “That is reasonable. Did you have nice day out?”

You smile and nod. “Yeah. Wade showed me around New York. It was cool.”

“See? I’m cool. Relax, Chrome Dome. I know what I’m doing.”

Colossus shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “We will make X-Man of you yet, Wade.”

Wade’s full attention turns to you as the metal giant turns and heads back inside. “You were all smiles with him, huh?”

You narrow your eyes at Wade. “So what? Smiling is a normal human thing!”

“Sure,” Wade says, drawing out the ‘u.’ “You like him, don’t you?”

“Only as much as you like Cable!”

It’s Wade’s turn to narrow his eyes. “I do not like Cable. I merely have a ‘healthy fascination’ with him and his metal arm. And his awesome gun.”

You smile sweetly at Wade and step inside. “Glad we’ve got that all settled, then.”

Wade pretty well takes you under his wing after that. The two of you have the same penchant for wild mischief –and fucking with Scott Summers—so it’s no surprise that you get along like ducks and water.

But what no one else notices –which, admittedly, is probably because they’re so used to cleaning up after yours and Wade’s hijinks—is that Wade does more than just rope you into his nonsense.

The two of you need to run to a store to pick up supplies for your latest prankster endeavor? He has you make a list, estimate how much it’ll cost, keep track of the route on Dopinder’s GPS, and puts you in charge of navigating the store while you track down everything you need.

He gets bored of being cooped up in the mansion? He takes you out for an adventure, teaches you how to navigate streets and pick out safe places to duck into if you run into trouble.

He buys you your first laptop and cellphone, shows you how to customize everything for “maximum fun.” (And, when his knowledge runs out, he just sets you down in front of Ellie and has her teach you how to be safe on the Internet and how to avoid getting ten thousand viruses on your computer.)

The man makes sure you get a proper sex-ed course. Not one where he just cracks inappropriate jokes –though there are a lot of those going around—but a real one. The ins and outs of consent, how to avoid getting STDs, basic anatomy, how to spot cancer on both sets of genitals.

And it’s all of this that leaves you convinced that Wade Wilson is one of the smartest persons you’ve ever met.

It’s not hard to learn how to read Wade Wilson. Once you get past all the shock value of the jokes, vulgar language, and weird habits, he’s an open book that has its heart on its cover.

He’s lonely. Not the creepy, ‘I’m forty years old and I’m lonely so I spend a lot of time with people half my age’ lonely, mind you. He’s just… lonely. Sad, even.

He hates his skin. That much is obvious from all the long sleeves and layers he wears, even in the dead of summer. And while you don’t see anything wrong with the way he looks, he does, and that’s the only opinion that matters in his book.

Wade Wilson is also a man that wrestles with a lot of demons. His healing factor didn’t cure him of his cancer, so he faces excruciating pain on a daily basis. The loss of his girlfriend –who stuck with him after he got fucked over by Francis and turned into ‘an avocado that got fucked by an older avocado’—is a gaping hole in his chest that he doesn’t know how to plug. His self-loathing is a constant presence in his mind, and the amount of skin he covers is a decent giveaway for just how much he’s hating himself at a given moment.

He kills himself because he “can’t really die.”

And it’s when you watch Colossus and a few other X-Men deal with the aftermath of one of Wade’s “visits to Vanessa” that you decide that this crazy man might need you as much as you need him.

You happen to catch a glimpse of him in the hall a few days later, decked out in his Deadpool suit.

There’s only two reasons Wade wears that suit: he’s getting ready for a fight, or he’s in the pits of self-hatred (or both). But he doesn’t have his swords on him, which means he’s not gearing up for a fight—

You dart down the hall and latch onto one of his arms. “Hey, dude! I just had this great idea that we have to try.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting, Aang!” Wade chirps back –but his voice is heavily strained, and, yep, you were right about his mental state. “What do we just have to try?”

You don’t actually have an idea on hand, so you just blurt the first thing that pops into your head. “Dessert burritos.”

Wade cocks his head back and considers the idea for a moment. “Dessert… burritos. Holy shit, you’re a genius.”

You grin –his tone’s brighter, lighter, which means you’ve managed to pull him out of his funk a little.

He grabs your hand and starts skipping down the hallway. “To the kitchen!”

Operation “Dessert Burritos” ends in nothing short of a disaster. You and Wade try to make pancakes to act as tortillas, and since neither of you can cook anything other than instant noodles, you wind up burning every attempt at you make. Three flaming skillets get chucked out the back door and two more are doused under the kitchen sink faucet before the two of you decide to call it quits on the ‘pancake’ alley.

So, then, the next logical step seems to be ice cream sundaes –except that Wade is still stuck on the ‘burrito’ concept, so he tries to wrap ice cream in a regular tortilla, which winds up tasting terrible for obvious reason, so Wade spits it out in the trashcan, except he misses part of his target and winds up spraying the front of the can with half his mouthful of ice cream and tortilla.

And then the two of you wind up unpacking the fridge and most of the pantry to find “sundae appropriate toppings” because Colossus is a health nut who keeps the kitchen stocked with healthy things—

And then Wade wants to try microwaving Gushers because why not, and you’ve never been one to say no to an opportunity to do something you’ve never done before—

And thus is all the chaos Colossus walks in on when he pops his head into the kitchen to see what the two of you are up to.

You’re eating fudge ripple ice cream straight out of the carton with a serving spoon, perched on the kitchen. You wave at him with the spoon as his face goes slack with shock. “Hey, dude! What’s up?”

Wade’s swearing up a storm while he tries to get molten Gusher remains off his face –he’d opted to take his mask off while he ate, and you’re suspecting that he’s regretting that decision now.

Colossus covers his face with both his hands and groans. “Wade—”

“Hey, man,” you interject before he can lambaste your honorary sibling too badly. “This was one hundred percent my idea. Don’t worry, we’ll get it all cleaned up. It’ll be like it never happened, I promise.” You pause, then add “Well, the gushers in the microwave was Wade’s idea. He’s on his own for that.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Hey, I told you not to stick your face into the microwave, but no, Pikachu knows everything!”

Colossus just sighs and shakes his head. “You two are destructive.”

“Hey, at least we didn’t short circuit the microwave this time!” You offer him an impish smile. “We’re doing better than we usually do.”

He puts his hands on his hips, looking every bit the stern father –but the corner of his mouth turns up as he shakes his head again. “I suppose you are correct.”

“Yupp. Like I said, don’t worry. We’ll totally handle the clean up and everything.”

He casts a concerned, appraising look around the kitchen, but still favors you with a small smile when his gaze finally settles on you again. “Well, I suppose I leave you both to it, then.”

The two of you have to spend the rest of the day cleaning and scrubbing to get the kitchen back in order. Wade’s none too happy about it, but you do your best to make it bearable for him –music, banter, the works.

And, bonus, cleaning with him means he has to stay with you, which means he can’t wallow in self-loathing. He’s not his bright, bubbly self, but he’s not falling apart either, which is a win in your book.

It’s dark out by the time the two of you finish getting everything put away. Normally, you’d just call it a day, but it’s not hard to see the darkness swimming behind Wade’s eyes—

“Hey, man, you wanna have a sleepover in the rec room tonight?”

Wade gasps, and his eyes genuinely light up. “Sleepovers are my favorite!”

You grin. “They’re my favorite, too! Come on, go get changed and I’ll meet you there. You still need to catch me up on all the reality TV stuff.”

The two of you are getting the rec room set up for the night when you hear Colossus’s heavy footsteps in the hall.

You pat Wade’s shoulder before hopping over the couch. “I’ll deal with him. Pick out something for us to watch. I’ll be back in five, ten minutes max.”

The metal giant himself is in the kitchen, checking up on everything before he goes to bed, it would seem.

You watch him for a couple moments –you don’t miss the surprised expression on his face at the orderly state of the kitchen, either—before making your presence known. “Making sure we held up our end of things?”

The expression on his face is guilty when he looks over his shoulder at you.

“It’s fine,” you chuckle as you step into the kitchen, holding up your hands in a disarming gesture. “I would if I were you, too.”

He ducks his head a little, but he’s smiling. “I do not wish to seem judgmental.” He looks past you –or, rather, over you—and frowns at the glow of the TV. “You two are still up?”

You glance over your shoulder, then step closer to the man of metal and lower your voice. “Wade’s had a rough day today. I just… I don’t want to leave him alone, you know?”

Understanding settles on Colossus’s steel features; he nods. “Da.”

“We’re just gonna hang out for the night, have a sleepover,” you add. “No more kitchen adventures –speaking of which, one of the skillets was not salvageable.”

Colossus huffs out a gentle laugh, crosses his arms over his massive chest, and shakes his head. “Somehow, I am not surprised.”

“You gotta admit, it’s better than our usual levels of collateral damage.”

“I suppose.” He smiles softly at you for a moment before clearing his throat and looking away. “Well, I leave you both to it.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Colossus.”

“Rest well, Y/N.”

You watch him go for a minute –watch the way the muscles in his back and shoulders ripple as he walks—before you shake yourself out of the daze Colossus never fails to put you in and head back to Wade. “All taken care of. We’re free to poison our brains with reality TV drama all we want!”

Wade doesn’t look up at you when you walk in. He’s seated on the middle of the couch, jaw tight and lips pursed as he stares ahead at the TV screen. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

You blink, shocked by the sudden outburst and his surly mood. It doesn’t take much to put together that he probably heard your conversation in the kitchen –Colossus’s voice always carries—but even if he didn’t it’s not too far out of Wade’s “normal” for him to assume that he’s only getting the scraps of what decent treatment he deserves.

Either way, you’re not having this argument. Not now, not ever.

You put your hands on your hips and fix him with a stern look. “Good, because I’m not giving you any.”

Your sharp tone makes his eyes widen, and he actually looks away from the glowing screen to stare at you.

“I don’t know if you noticed, dumbass,” you continue, tossing in a mild insult to help him figure out you’re serious, “but I care about you. You’re the one person in this mansion that made sure I’d be able to function in the real world if I had to, and I’ll be damned if I’m just gonna let you flounder when you’re feeling down. And that’s not pity, jackass. It’s called being a decent fucking human being. Got it?”

“Pretty sure it’s pity when the person isn’t obligated to care about you,” Wade throws back, smiling bitterly.

And you understand where he’s coming from. After Vanessa died, all the help he’s been getting has come from the X-Men, and how can it not look like a pity handout when the people helping you have their lives and themselves so extraordinarily put together?

You’ve felt the same way about it on more than one sleepless night.

You let out an irritated huff and cross your arms over your chest. “Fine. I’m hereby adopting you as my brother. Now, as your new sister, I’m obligated to care about you. Are we doing this sleepover or what?”

Wade blinks at you, then grins. It’s tired, and it’s worn down, but it’s not bitter.

You’ll take it.

“Hell yeah we are.” He scoots over so you can sit next to him. “These are reruns of ‘Say Yes to the Dress.’ This one’s the ‘Bridezilla’ edition.”

“Sweet.” You plop down on the couch just in time to see a particularly distraught bride-to-be throw a fascinator at her mother. “Holy shit.”

“Just wait,” Wade says, all too gleeful. “It gets better.”

You wake up in the gray pre-dawn of the next day and nearly smack your head into Wade’s.

The two of you had taken half the couch each, with heads in the middle so you could hear each other talk and avoid kicking each other in the middle of the night.

Wade’s still asleep, one hand holding onto one of yours.

The sight makes you smile, makes you feel a little less despair over the state of the world.

You squeeze his hand, then nudge his head when he doesn’t stir. “Wake up, idiot.”

Wade groans. “Too early.”

“Yeah, which is why I’m putting you back to bed.” You tug him off the couch and walk him towards the main staircase. “Come on. Your ancient back needs a proper mattress.”

“Not ancient.”

“Yes, you are, you geriatric motherfucker.”

You manage to get him up the stairs and to his room without incident. He drops into his bed with a grunt, and you tuck a blanket around him and wait for him to start snoring again.

And then you get to work.

It takes a couple minutes, but you manage to find all the guns and knives Wade keeps on him while at the Institute. You tuck the numerous weapons into your arms, then pad out of his room.

Colossus is in the hall –already dressed for the day, the morning bird. He frowns, concerned, when he sees your armload of weaponry. “What—”

“Don’t worry,” you toss over your shoulder as you walk precisely one door to the left. “I’m not using them.” You kick the door a couple times with your foot, then step back and wait.

Nathan Summers, alias Cable, opens the door a few seconds later. He takes one good look at the guns and knives in your arms, then raises an eyebrow at you as if to say ‘what the fuck do you want me to do with those?’

“Wade’s been in a mood,” you say, as if that explains everything –which, technically, it does. “And you actually know how to store these properly.”

He sighs, but doesn’t look too put-out about it, and opens the door more. “Bring them in.”

You dump the arsenal on his bed when he motions for you to do so, watch as he puts gunlocks on the various firearms and tucks the knives and other bladed weapons into the top drawer of his nightstand.

Colossus watches from the hall, hovering nervously in a way that should not be possible for someone of his side.

“If you’re cool with it, I’m gonna leave a note for Wade to let him know to see you if he wants his shit back,” you say as Nathan tucks Wade’s guns into a duffel bag. “He probably won’t be up before noon.”

Nathan sighs, but nods anyway. “Not like I’m going anywhere else.”

“Thanks,” you say, and you mean it. “I wouldn’t have known what to do with all this.”

“Anytime, kid.”

Colossus watches you carefully as you walk back into the hall and close Nathan’s door behind you. “You… care a great deal for Wade.”

It’s not hard to hear the unspoken question, mostly because it’s easy to see how someone might confuse the easy camaraderie you and Wade have always had for something else. Something… less platonic.

You shrug and tell the truth. “He’s my brother.”

Finding out that Colossus –Piotr, his name is Piotr, and you think you could spend the rest of your life saying his name without ever getting tired of how it feels on your lips—likes you is a world-changing revelation.

You know by the looks Wade keeps sending you throughout lunch, the afternoon, and dinner that he’s going to want a full report on everything that’s happened with Piotr.

You can’t wait to give him one.

You also can’t help but notice the way that the door to Wade’s room is cracked open and the lights are on as Piotr walks you back to your room –ostensibly so you know he’s ‘in’ and will pop in to give him the full rundown, but probably also so he can eavesdrop, the little shit.

But you can’t find it in yourself to care all that much because Piotr’s hand is holding yours and you can’t imagine ever feeling anything better than what you’re feeling right now.

He walks you to your door, smiles fondly down at you. “I have work tonight. I doubt I will see you before morning.”

“So you’re ‘saying goodnight just in case?’” You ask, smiling back as giddy excitement coils in your stomach.

“Something like that, da.” And then he dips his head and presses his lips against yours.

You can’t help but gasp, just a little, and lift your hand to his shoulder to steady yourself.

The kiss ends all to soon –for your liking and Piotr’s, if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

He presses his forehead against yours before stepping back. “Goodnight, myshka.”

“Goodnight, Piotr.” You let your fingers slip from his as he walks away and watch him as he retreats down the hall.

He looks over his shoulder before he turns the corner to head downstairs. He smiles when he sees you watching, and blows you a kiss before disappearing from view—

And then, right on cue, Wade opens his door and grins at you.

You just cover your face with your hands and let out an excited squeal. You’re too excited to be annoyed with Wade, dammit.

He tugs you in his room. “I have snacks. Now, tell me everything.”

The two of you talk for hours, demolishing several bags of fun-sized candies and two packages of Keebler Fudgestripes.

“No fucking way!” Wade brays. “He was pet-naming you for the better part of a year? What a dork!”

“Well, he’s my dork now, so mind your mouth.” You grin stupidly, then squeal as you fall over onto Wade’s bed.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so cute I could die.”

There’s a knock on the doorframe, and Piotr –still out of defense mode, which is gonna take some serious getting used to—pokes his head into Wade’s room. “You are still up?” He frowns when he sees the numerous wrappers covering Wade’s bed. “Did you eat all that?”

You giggle at your boyfriend. “Kinda. We got carried away.”

He shakes his head in an all-too-familiar disapproving gesture, but an amused smile plays at his lips. “Is not good to consume so much sugar this late, myshka. You will be up half of night.”

“Unless I find a way to burn it off.” You grin at him. “Mind accompanying me on a late night stroll?”

He smiles softly at you. “Konechno –of course.”

“God, you two are so barf-worthy,” Wade gushes as you hop off his bed. “I love it.”

You catch Nathan in the hall as Piotr escorts you towards the stairs.

He smirks at the two of you, presumably having gotten an update from Wade and Ellie. “Going somewhere?”

“Just for a walk.” You jerk your head back towards Wade’s room, where light is still spilling into the hallway from his open door. “I bet he could use some company right now.”

Nathan shakes his head and mutters something that sounds like ‘clingy’ under his breath, but he stills strides over to Wade’s room anyway. He pauses at the doorway, frowning. “Did you eat all of that?”

“Yes, he did!” you shout. “You should have seen it; it was horrifying!”

“Lies!” Wade shouts back from his room. “Lies, lies, all fucking lies and slander!”

Piotr chuckles and tugs on your hand. “Come, myshka. Before you get into more trouble.”

You grin as you follow him down the stairs. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Watching Nate finally –finally—kiss Wade is like getting to the end of a good slow-burn book. You’ve loved watching the build-up, loved placing bets with everyone else on when those two would finally get their heads out of their asses and realize they were basically dating already, but God it’s such a relief to see them actually do something other than flirt with each other.

And one good turn deserves another, which is why you dig a box of maple sugar candies that you’d been saving for Wade’s birthday out of your dresser drawer and head over to Wade’s room.

Nathan’s already in there, holding Wade in his arms as they snuggle on Wade’s bed.

You can’t help but grin. “God, you two are so barf worthy. I love it.”

Wade sticks his tongue out at you. “We’re gonna give you and Metallica a run for your ‘hashtag goals’ money. Just you watch.”

“Good fucking luck.” You gesture at him with the box. “Wanna give me the ‘full rundown? I brought snacks.”

“I never say no to snacks.” He makes grabby hands for the box, then gasps softly when he sees the label. “Where’d you get these?”

“Vermont. The school took the kids on a field trip to a maple syrup farm. They’re the real deal.”

Wade tears the box open with all the delicacy of a rabid badger. “You do love me.”

“Always have, bro.”

Nathan frowns down at the little candies shaped like maple leaves. “The fuck are those?”

“Only the best thing on the face of the damn planet.” Wade holds one up to his boyfriend’s mouth. “Open up, sweetcheeks.”

Nate bites off part of the candy. His eyes widen immediately, and he spits the lump of melting sugar out onto a tissue. “Fuck. Too sweet.”

Wade gasps. “I’ll have you know that, as a Canadian, you’ve just committed a heresy. I’m sorry, we’re gonna have to see other people.”

Nathan snorts as he chucks his tissue into a nearby wastebasket. “Can’t get rid of me that easy, gorgeous.”

You can’t help but smile as Wade nuzzles Nate’s shoulder affectionately. “I just wanna say: I fucking told you so.”

“Shut up,” Wade shoots back. “You did not.”

“Wade, how long did I tell you that he liked you? How fucking long?”

“Yeah, well how long did I tell you that our resident steel boyscout liked you?” Wade rolls his eyes, then raises the pitch of his voice. “No, he doesn’t, we’re just friends, he doesn’t feel the same way!”

“I do not sound like that!”

“Uh, yeah you do! That’s why I made my voice sound like that.”

“Listen, asshole—”

“Language, myshka.” Piotr leans against the doorframe, smiling fondly at you. “Be nice.”

You point imperiously at Wade. “He started it!”

“Yeah, and I finished it! No performance anxiety here!”

Nate rolls his eyes. “You’re both insane.”

“Yeah? So?” You pluck two maple sugar candies out of the box –ignoring Wade’s squawks of protest as you do—then nab a tissue from the dresser before turning to Piotr. “Here. Try this.”

He eyes the candy, then the tissue, with admittedly fair suspicion. “What is this?”

“Candy.”

He gestures with the tissue. “And this?”

“Call it a safe bet.”

He sighs, then takes a delicate bite of the candy –and, sure enough, promptly spits it out into the tissue. “Bozhe moi, much too sweet.”

“Saw that coming.” You pop your entire candy into your mouth and let out a moan of contentment. “So good.”

“I know,” Wade says as he pops another bite of sugar molded into the shape of a leaf in his mouth. He makes a noise that in any other context would’ve been downright obscene and flops against Nathan’s chest.

“You’re both sugar fiends,” Nathan grumbles, putting an arm around Wade’s shoulders.

“I like to think of it as ‘well-adjusted.’” You grin teasingly at your own boyfriend. “What’s the matter, babe? Can’t handle a little sugar?”

He latches onto your hand and draws you into his arms. “Perhaps, you are just only sweet thing I need in life,” he says as he drops a kiss against the top of your head.

“Ew,” Wade mock-whines. “Get your PDA out of here!”

You roll your eyes at him. “Says the guy who’s literally sitting in his boyfriend’s lap.”

Despite the banter, you’re legitimately happy. You’ve got your happy ending, and Wade’s got his.

Look at us, bro, you think as the four of you share laughs. Champions of overcoming the shittiest obstacles. Go us.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #cablepool #i know the warning look scary but this really is just a fluff fest #deadpool fanfic #x men fanfiction

81 notes · View notes