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yegarts · 1 year

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I Am YEG Arts: Heather Shillinglaw

Mixed media artist Heather Shillinglaw expresses her Indigeneity and familial oral histories through collages that employ sewing, painting, and sculpture methods. She grew up in Ministik near Cooking Lake and now lives in Edmonton and has a strong connection to the land and to her heritage; Nêhiyawêwin /Cree, Dene/Chipewyan, Salteaux/Ojibwe, and Scots/French. Over the course of her career, she has shared land-based teachings in art workshops with thousands of students of all ages, taken on activist work to highlight the importance of the natural world to inspire others to preserve what is left, and has exhibited her work extensively. In this week’s I Am YEG Arts feature, we get to know more about Heather Shillinglaw.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and why you've decided to make it your home.

Growing up outside of Edmonton, we would come into town to do our shopping, and all that kind of stuff. And I always thought it was so fancy, and a fantastic place to live with all these great shops and beautiful river valley to pick berries or whatever. It maintained a consistent interest for me to live here and settle here. Now that I have my family, my husband and my two daughters, we call it home. And it's not far from the place where I grew up, and my family. So, we're kind of surrounded within Edmonton. I also have an ancestral connection to the land in that they harvested medicines, mostly berries here, which I'm very glad to say that saskatoons grow prevalently in our River Valley.

What is your creative process like? And what motivates you as an artist?

I started out mostly as a mixed media artist, project based, so when I make art, I'm very material based. There's kind of a relationship with the material that I start building a language within the work I'm creating. It's either through symbolism, the materials, or the project base -- the goal -- which is talking about the environment, preservation of what's left, to creation of the piece itself. Right now, I'm obsessed with sewing, and I'm sewing on hides and then I'm sewing on big florals. I collect and harvest like a mouse. That's my animal spirit and I see things large and giant, and I'm very humbled by the land.

In my pieces I’m using anywhere from three to six different types of sewing machines to create the work. When I'm sewing, I'm thinking about that kinship and relationship to the landscapes, like the maternal landscapes. It's all nature based and it's all about the healing plants and medicines that are in our land.

How do you choose the materials you work with?

That's a tricky one because I'm constantly collecting like a mouse. Another aspect in thinking about conservation of our land and not causing problems, I use a lot of recycled materials and mediums. In the body of work that I'm still creating, ᒫᒥᑐᓀᔨᐦᒋᑲᐣ ᑯᑖᐄᐧᐤ mâmitonêyihcikan kotâwîw, – my mind digs in the soil like a turtle -- an exhibition that's happening right now in Halifax at the Mary Black Gallery -- I'm sewing on to hides and it's kind of an eagle eye’s perspective. Through that I'm doing tufting, beading, and sewing into bodies of water that relate to the landscapes of where my ancestors hunted and harvested. Inspiration sources come from here, there and everywhere. So, you know, I'm a mouse that acts like a magpie.

Top: Detail of ᑮᓯᑌᐳᐃᐧᐣ ᓵᑳᐦᐃᑲᐣ kîsitêpowin sâkâhikan cooking lake by Heather Shillinglaw. Bottom: Gravemarker Bison from the Whiskey Script Series by Heather Shillinglaw.

Where does your inspiration come from?

The inspiration comes from the land itself. For a lot of my projects, my inspiration source is my mother: through storytelling about the land, and her memories from our Nohkums, our grandmothers, and how they harvested from the land, right down to the specific berries, or the relationship that the moths share with the trees and how it provides a kinship relationship to the land itself. Then through that, I'm taking oral stories and I'm also looking at other forms of research, such as archival research. I've worked with ethnographer Ruth McConnell and I've been working with Elder and Knowledge Keeper Lynn Desjalais/Lush from the Sandy Bay Reserve (she's a relative of ours, I think that's an added bonus). And Anne Cardinal, who's from Saddle Lake Reserve. There's a cultural connection, an artistic connection, a research base. So, there's many different platforms in my resources and where I make my art from.

Marilyn Dumont is another source of inspiration. Marilyn is a Métis poet, and we share common lineages in where our inspiration sources come from. I've been sewing her poetry into bodies of water, and I sew my own poetry now because she's given me a lot of strength to do that. So that's another aspect of my work – using poetry and prose to talk about what's going on in the art. I'm so honoured that she said she's willing to work with me and we continue to work together on projects.

You've had the opportunity to exhibit your work nationally and internationally as well as participate in residencies abroad in Paraguay and Argentina. How was your artistic practice influenced by these cultural exchanges and how was your work received?

That was so much fun. 2009 was a bit of a banner year for me. Beatriz Ventura , who is the Canadian consulate located in Buenos Aires, for Argentina and Paraguay, connected with me and we talked about medicines, and she talked about her ancestors and how they hunted and harvested. Through that I sat on panel discussions, I exhibited my work, and then I did a little bit of a residency. I was quite excited and engaged by what was happening with the Indigenous people out there and how it was almost like going back 200 years for their discovery of the oil rights in the land. I gave some advice, from my ancestors and their trauma and problems that we've had in the past. I got invited to go around with an anthropologist in Mendoza and she took me up into the mountains, and we met the Indigenous tribes there. It was a phenomenal experience.

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to talk about plant sustainability, which is in my practice today. Then I got invited by a conference attendee from Paraguay, Asunción to stay in her home. I got a chance to meet all these wonderful people there, networked with them, created workshops for the conference that I attended, gave a panel discussion presentation of my work, and then I also got a chance to work with the UNICEF school out there as well. I kind of became a little bit of a political activist. I'm not in your face in my politics; there are political statements within the art itself. And the more I create my work, the more I'm concerned about the land and preservation, because our oil and gas industry is affecting our water tables, it's in our system and there's some relationships of what Industry Canada is doing to our land that is very disconcerting. As an artist, your job and your role is to make sure you carry your message through your art, so that's where art becomes an activist statement. And I don't want to be in your face. I want people to want to understand. And that's where you can access more of a deeper, profound way of understanding the art, understanding culture, and understanding our planet and preservation.

Top: Gravemarker Fox from the Whiskey Script Series by Heather Shillinglaw. Bottom: Painted Red by Heather Shillinglaw.

What would you say is your greatest strength as a creative?

I have taught many artists and residencies over the years, and I worked at the Art Gallery of St Albert as their first Indigenous Visual Arts Programmer; I take pride in that. Whenever I'm teaching, I take it upon myself to inspire people. That’s important and supports my practice. That's another hat that I wear as an artist. Through my Elders, I've learned that a big part of our culture is sharing, and you share with humility. Like, the information that was given to me, you hand it down for the next generation to inspire them. And they're probably not going to make the same work that you're going to make; the goal is to inspire, and that’s why I teach.

Tell us a little bit about what you're currently working on or hoping to explore next.

At the Centre of Contemporary Craft of Nova Scotia there is an exhibition of my work right now, it closes on July 2nd. I will be going to see the exhibit and attend a series of things going on out there. It’s a body of work called ᒫᒥᑐᓀᔨᐦᒋᑲᐣ ᑯᑖᐄᐧᐤ mâmitonêyihcikan kotâwîw, – my mind digs in the soil like a turtle, and it's basically large landscapes and a body of work that showed here last year at the Alberta Craft Council. It does come back here in the fall, in September and October at the Art Gallery of St Albert. We're going to be doing some exciting activities, workshops and talks.

In January, I have an exhibition at the McMullen gallery. I'm going to be doing some workshops and artist talks and events. And as a sneak peek, for Gaagige Giizhig - Ishpeming (Forever Sky) (the Sky Above) I'm going to be turning the gallery to space! Those are works are on black panels, and there's thirteen of them, and they're not small either -- some of those panels are larger than me, so maybe like 8' x 5’ ft. MSHKAWJI GIIZIS (FREEZING MOON) – OCTOBER for example, is one of them, it’s the frost moon, so they're really different.

And then I have another body of work, it's called Whispers in the Forest, and it's going to the Esplanade Gallery [in Medicine Hat]. It's part of a larger group exhibition. In 2026, I have a solo exhibition at the same gallery and I'm just working through that. I'm going to be focusing on learning ancestral languages from language keepers: Saulteaux Denesuline language, Anishinaabe language, and Nêhiyawêwin Cree. It's going to be a massive mouse trap, a life-size mouse trap that focuses on live, eat, sleep, repeat.

Detail of MNIDO GIIZIS (SPIRIT MOON) – JANUARY by Heather Shillinglaw.

Tell us about a local artist group or organization that is doing great work in the community that you think more people should know about.

I would start off by saying CARFAC Alberta is fantastic and great to work with because they do a lot of programming to help artists survive as artists. There's a lot of versatility in the art world, but it's challenging to survive as an artist. They do all kinds of workshops to help people, anywhere from writing grants, to what's next, or how to ship your art internationally and that sort of thing. So, there's lots of opportunities for artists to learn from them.

And then I would say the Art Gallery of Alberta is fantastic. I’ve shown my work there, I sell my work at the art rental sales, and I've had opportunities to work with them and be a special guest artist, teaching workshops for them that a benefactor had paid for. There are phenomenal opportunities for artists to connect with them. Outside of that, there is the Art Gallery of St Albert. Emily Baker and Leah Louden are fantastic. They also sell my work out there, and they do amazing programming that is so unique. You can go in by donation and still access a lot of the arts just in that space itself. So those are some really good places that do so much in the community.

The Rowles and Company Gallery also sells my work. I'm saying support our local galleries because you know, they really struggled to get through COVID, so it's really important to share that message with others.

And I didn't even mention the Edmonton Arts Council, that they offer so much programming, so many grants and possibilities for artists themselves. I've been honored to be a recipient of those grants and organizations for money to create my works.

I am also so thankful that I have been inspired by Shirley Norris Shillinglaw, who's my mother, and my family that supports me. Keith Macmillan and my daughters tolerate bits of thread and my messy nature. They’ve been very generous to allow me to do that.

About Heather Shillinglaw

Heather Shillinglaw is a project-based artist adapting art materials using sewing, painting and sculpture methods. Growing up in Ministik near Cooking Lake, she now lives in Edmonton, Alberta. Shillinglaw is proud of her heritage; Nêhiyawêwin /Cree, Dene/Chipewyan, Salteaux/Ojibwe, and Scots/French. Shillinglaw shares land-based teachings in art workshops to thousands of students of all ages, throughout her career. She becomes an activist, her voice in sharing through art she hopes to inspire the importance of the natural world to inspire preserving what is left. Exhibiting her work nationally and internationally, she is humble in acknowledging the awards and Grants that help her projects, inclusive of a recent award Leighton Studio stay at the Banff Center for the Arts; the Gerin-Lajoie Studio. Previous exchanges abroad in Paraguay and Argentina working with anthropologists, medicine women of Tobian- Guarani and Mapuche healers in South America, and other shows/cultural connections abroad. You can learn more about Heather here.

#yegarts #yeg #edmonton #edmontonarts #yegartists #iamyegarts #indigenousartist

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jkpandp · 1 year

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MOVING IMAGE

The world at large has become more digitized. We are overwhelmed by the multitude of imagery moving across our eyes at all moments of the day. Sitting here at the computer writing this post, I have a cell phone on my left that is playing a YouTube Video. Our attention span has been depleted so much that the average TikTok user decides whether or not they will watch an entire video after about 5 seconds. Media is in front of all of us, and in turn, influencing our lives whether we are cognisant of it or not.

In 2023, we are closer to our media than ever before. AI is even creating and thus taking the human out of the post-modern approach. However, we want to focus on keeping the human in the media and finding the relationship between the bodies and the medium itself. Film and photography tend to focus on a humanly figure as the subject. The artist makes choices with their apparatus (a camera) to manipulate the subject to portray a story at hand. What do those mean?

Screen-Reliant Installation. Screen-reliant refers to the use of three dimensional objects and a connecting bridge that can act as a screen to a virtual space. I look to this in my own process, specifically in my work as a projection designer exploring installations and event design to find new ways to approach a space and the art forms that live inside of it. Finding the connecting tissue is a key piece that has always been missing and they seem to exist as two separate entities but could now live together as one.

In Conversation with Omar Kholeif. The issue of proximity is the key to your work. This resonates with me. You have to bring some baggage into every piece of work that you do. You have to find the intimacy of relationships and explore the forms you are working with. Omar talks about how he chooses subjects for his films and how it comes inherently to him. I relate this to how I choose what projects to work on. I am currently relating myself to the musical, The Prom, set in Indiana. As an Indiana girl, whose mom was a member of the PTA, and whose family could not be more on the less progressive side of the map, identify as pansexual and want so much to fight for the character of Emma in The Prom. Our experiences and previous thoughts aid us in how we approach our works but also allow us to become closer to the material, to gain a more vested interest in it.

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k-tran-cas · 2 years

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CAS Project: Preparation

Once we started preparing for the project, we realised that creating multiple LARP sessions would be too exhausting and almost impossible with our schedules. Therefore, we decided to create one big session, where everyone would have their own job to do, as to have an equal division of labour.

So, on top of creating a character, the preparation stage was divided into four: - Writers team of four - Props team of two - Costumes team of one - Environment team of one (me)

First I created my jester character: Mark. I tried to create the character with interesting relationships with other characters to give the person who will play as him the opportunity to create drama and have their own interpretations of how to act. I also made sure to make a chaotic backstory to give him more interest and things to talk about. Here is the character: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1dHw6mEyNPTZYT021Rli_zwBZZBRGQhKJRb-O3KhGO_A/edit?usp=sharing

After everyone created their characters, each person got assigned a randomised character. I got Mark, which was very convenient for me, since I was the creator so I already had an idea of him. However, the character who was chosen to die was Weepy, who Mark had a lot of history with. This took away the opportunity to have them interact with each other, bummer.

We then set a time and date for the session itself. Since I was in charge of creating the environment, the LARP took place in my home. I selected a floor of my house and closed off the rest of the entrances as to create a boundary for the LARP area. I put up some LED lights and cleaned up the area before the writers team came. Once they did, I gave them the rundown of where they can go and gave them materials to create the dead body.

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tridentgumfreshy · 2 years

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𝐀𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. Gojo x fem reader (modern au) Part 1

You and Gojo had been dating for over 2 years now, and it hasn't been easy. Loving the Gojo Satoru is probably the hardest of things you've ever done. So when he finally crosses the line with you, more than just your usual arguements with him happen. (naturally)

It was the third time this week. Third. Your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, who also attends the same college as you, is an absolute rich boy. Mind, soul, and body. Fucking rich mentality. He has power too. So when he cuts classes, nobody bats an eye. Nobody but you. This is the third time this week he's cut classes to go party out of town-and it's only Thursday. Mentally facepalming yourself as class finishes, you pick up your bags and head put of the classroom, only to be met by the taller male, who finally returned from his little venture after class.

"Miss me?" He teases, poking your cheek.

"Not in the slightest," You say, deadpanning.

"Listen to me. We have a joint project that we need to finish so come over to my apartment on Saturday. If you have any plans you better cancel them because you if you flunk this, your chances of passing college will be a flat 0," You slowly speak, hoping he would understand the importance of this assignment.

"Thumbs up," He says.

Your face softens a little as you give him a quick peck. "I'm going home now. You might wanna talk to the professor to see if he can give you a short overview on the topic we just had."

"Why should I? I have you, yanno." Gojo says, while giving a cheeky grin.

Normally, whenever Gojo would cut classes, it was basically your responsibility to write notes on the subejct for him and give it to him. You were quite tired of writing double notes for both him and you, but he was your boyfriend, so you sucked it up and did it.

You sighed.

You sighed again.

You sighed, even louder.

"Geez, I'll make it up to you okay? Make sure to check your mail on Saturday~" He sings.

"But-" You try to speak, but he puts a finger over your lips and hushes you.

"Don't worry, it'll be so expensive it'll make your heart stop."

"But that's not what I want," You want to say. Instead, you force out a mere "Thanks, Satoru," and head out of the building before hearing what he has to say.

Saturday comes rolling around. You start setting up the materials needed for yours and Gojos project, and then drop him a quick text.

y/n

Don't forget our plans for today :)

No response. Not like you expected one. You waited a few minutes more, staring intently at you screen, which was showing previous text messages between you and Satoru. They were mostly just you texting him and him not responding. On rare occasions he would reply with emojis or short phrases, or just plain memes. From that moment on, you started to question if he actually put any effort into your relationship with him---if he really cared at all. You tried pushing those doubts and thoughts out of your mind, but to no avail. Wanting to do something to get your mind of the negative thoughts that were swarming inside of your head, you decided to get an early start on your project.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Hours passed. You had been waiting for him since 9am. It was now 4:30pm. During that time, you finished your project, and sort of finished Satoru's project for him, in hopes he would burst through the door and explain why he was so late. You were hoping that after you finished the project you would have a nice house date with him, nothing to dramatic. It had been a while since you hung out with him, and you kind of wanted to spend more time with him. You prepared all kinds of foods and drinks.

Your hopes were crushed 15 minutes later, when your phone rang. Hoping it was Satoru, you rushed to pick it up, only for the caller to be Kugisaki Nobara. She was your close friend, and you were able to talk to her about anything. Boy problems? yup. Your family? Yup. You name it.

"Hey, Nobara~" You spoke lazily.

"Y/n," Nobara said, in a sort of serious way.

"What's up? You sound sorta..serious. Did something happen with you? You can tell me, but I probably won't be able to hear the whole thing because Satoru's on his way-" You start, but get cut off by Nobara's sprt of panicking yet serious voice.

"When was the last time you checked your boyfriends social media?"

"Uh...Like last week? Why?"

"I really. don't want to be the one to show you this, so just check his Instagram recents," She says firmly.

"Sure."

You cut off and open Instagram. What could be so bad about Satoru's Instagram? As soon as you open it, it's smack dab in your face. What Nobara was talking about. It was a picture. Just a picture. But it was a picture that really set things straight in your head, mind, everything. It made you wake up. It was a picture of a certain girl who you not so familiar with, except for knowing that she was his party buddy everywhere he went. Satoru reassured you that she was a drinking buddy and nothing else. You thought you could believe him, but the picture said otherwise. In the picture, the girl was giving a kiss to a lightly flushed Gojo, who seemed to enjoy it. It seemed like they were at a party, but you really couldn't care less. The caption titled, "w my bae <8" That alone was enough to get your blood boiling. You immediately took a screenshot and sent it to your boyfriend, not saying anything else. Hot, fat tears streamed down your face as you stared at the picture a little longer. He never looked at you that way, you thought. He never even cared. These thoughts continued to spiral through your mind until you regained the strength to stand up and check your mail. He had promised to give you a gift. You took out the package and touched it gingerly. You opened it, only to see a ring imbedded with rose quartz and a little note that read: "Thanks." He purposely left the price tag on which let you knew that the ring costed 400,000 yen. You didn't know what kind of face you were making at this point.

You put everything back in the package, and dumped it back in your pile of endless mail, most of it from your parents and friends overseas.

You walked back into your apartment. You couldn't feel anything. Your arms and fingers were numb. Your heart was hurting. No matter how many things he bought you, he never truly loved you. It was just you who foolishly loved him. Regret filled your stomach. Those two years were just a waste of your time. You lied there for a few minutes before finally coming to your senses.

Finally, the door creaked open cautiously and Gojo entered the apartment. He didn't say a word. Neither did you. You just stared at him with pure hate. Hate for all the money he spent on you which all amounted to nothing, Hate for the fact that you were so naiive to believe that someone like him would love you, Hate at yourself for spending so much time for no reason at all. Hate for him, Gojo Satoru.

Gojo silently sat down on the chair and started speaking.

"Listen, I-" Gojo starts.

"I really don't want to hear it. I dont want to hear your stupid pathetic excuses as to why you cozied up with some girl at a party. We had plans today. I don't think you know, but it gets tiring taking care of someone like you. I do all your shit for you, yet I never get anything in return." You say.

"I may be in the wrong but you're wrong about the fact that I don't give you anything. I spend tons of money on you all the time. I buy loads of things for you, and you're saying you don't get anything in return?" Gojo says, while looking intently at you.

He really doesn't get it.

At that moment, you lost it. completely. You took all of your emotions, everything you were feeling, and threw it at him.

"How have you never realized?! I never wanted all of those material things, Satoru. I wanted your love, you affection, your care. I never got any of that. Yet you can cancel plans on me and go kiss another girl and have the audacity to post it on your Instagram. What did I do to you that made you do this? I-I Just don't understand. I hate myself for loving you. I hate you. I wasted 2 years of my life giving you my all. giving this relationship my all. All you ever did was go and party, and then try to make it up to me by buying me things. I fucking hate it. I fucking hate you. I hate you so much. So much. I loved you. I loved you so much that I couldn't even put it into words. But you never felt the same. Why did you even date me in the first place? I'm tired of carrying your shit on my back when you don't seem to care yourself. Get. Out." You spat.

He had never seen you this angry. He didn't realize how much he was hurting you. Why had he been so dumb? He glanced at the counter, where foods covered in plastic wrap sat. Were those supposed to be for him? It had to be. He felt horrible. Why did he let that girl kiss him, thinking it would be alright? Why did he make such horrible choices? What was going through his head? He thought that if he bought you things, it would make up for the time he spent away from you. Now did he only realize how wrong he was. All of your emotions filled up to the brim, and you finally let it out.

Without another word, He left the apartment.

You were now alone. Curling up into a little ball, you lied there. Soon, the apartment was filled with stifled sobs and the feeling of winter coming.

#jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #oneshot #angst #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk satoru

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therealvinelle · 3 years

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Carlisle and theology

So, there are a lot of thoughts in this fandom on Carlisle’s brand of faith, and Carlisle seeing vampirism as inherent sin, and it’s time for this Christian philosophy nerd to butt in, featuring all the quotes.

First of, let me do my usual disclaimer - the Carlisle of the books is not the Carlisle of the movies. Carlisle of the movies believes he’s damned, because while the movie does mostly quote the conversation from the books, they cut him off halfway through, completely changing the meaning. Book Carlisle is making an argument, and his conclusion is the opposite: vampires have souls.

"Edward's with me up to a point. God and heaven exist… and so does hell. But he doesn't believe there is an afterlife for our kind." Carlisle's voice was very soft; he stared out the big window over the sink, into the darkness. "You see, he thinks we've lost our souls." (New Moon, page 20)

Later in the same book when Edward believes he has died and gone to heaven, his first words are: “Carlisle was right.”

So, book Carlisle doesn’t believe they’re all damned. If he did, creating others would be to damn them. If he had doubts about their souls and decided to risk it anyway, his “I made vampires” angst would be about their souls. It’s not:

"(Choosing to turn others) is the one part I can never be sure of. I think, in most other ways, that I've done the best I could with what I had to work with. But was it right to doom the others to this life? I can't decide." (New Moon, page 21)

was it right to doom the others to this life.

He says nothing about their souls. His issue is the life they’re now living because of him: “was it right to turn others into bloodsucking demons, all of whom have a body count?”

Which is a very fair question, I’d be wondering that too. Edward, Emmett, Esme, and Rosalie are all murderers, they live in the constant pain of bloodlust, they must live in this very particular way or be nomads, and they’re not truly immortal, for sooner or later death will come in the brutal form of being torn apart and burned. Not to mention both Edward and Rosalie have very ambivalent feelings about what they became.

Carlisle wondering if turning them was the right call appears to have nothing to do with religion, and everything to do with the pragmatic reality of what it means to have created a vampire.

But if Carlisle doesn’t believe vampires are damned, what does he think then?

His backstory, admittedly told through Edward (who projects a lot onto Carlisle), is helpful.

His strength returned and he realized there was an alternative to being the vile monster he feared. Had he not eaten venison in his former life? Over the next months his new philosophy was born. He could exist without being a demon. He found himself again. (Twilight, page 160)

Carlisle had been raised to believe in witches and demons, eternal damnation for the wicked and the whole shebang. He wakes up a vampire and he knows what this means, he is now a senseless monster who kills people.

Well, turns out this isn’t the case. He doesn’t have to kill people. More, he still has his faith in God, which by protestant doctrine is what you need to enter Heaven. (This right here is one big bone I have to pick with fanon Carlisle. People keep ascribing a very Catholic brand of theology onto him, as he believes existence is sin and one must do penance. He’s Anglican, and Anglicans adopted Protestant doctrine. Protestant salvation comes through faith.)

Now, if his existence doesn’t automatically lead to sin, and if he is still in command of himself, able to believe in God and be devout, who’s to say he’s damned?

The urge to kill people remains present, of course, but humans are tempted to sin too. All of God’s children are tempted. (And yes, he did arrive at the conclusion that vampires are among God’s children. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t believe they had souls.)

Edward specifies that Carlisle created his own philosophy. As in, he didn’t just say “I don’t have to kill people, neat. Being a monster is still horrible, though”, he sat down and went full Zarathustra.

This is where my love for theology comes in.

Christian thought is founded on the relationship between God and Man. How Man is saved, the definition of sin, absolution, all of it - it’s all built on the supposition that Man is human. Well, Carlisle just found out that there’s God, Man, and Vampire - and potentially (Carlisle at this early point in time would still think witches and such were real) others as well.

He also learned that the notion of monsters being bound to sin, or having made deals with Satan, are also wrong. He never met the guy, he has his conscience, and he lives as morally as ever.

This invalidates pretty much everything he ever learned, and Carlisle’s sitting there in the English woods realizing the same thing Nietzsche later would when science challenged religion: he has to figure out Christianity from scratch.

I think Carlisle came up with his very own doctrine.

Edward outright says so: his new philosophy was born. We see Carlisle engage in all sorts of behavior completely contrary to anything a devout 17th century priest would have been doing. He associates with heathens like Aro, Amun, or the Amazonians, allows his family to be non-believers, considers fallen women like the Denali to be wonderful people and respects them as equals, he performs abortions, he allows material luxuries under his roof, he marries a woman who committed suicide.

There’s also the fact that his was a time full of alternate interpretations of Scripture. I won’t get into this part of European history, suffice to say that with Martin Luther’s 97 theses, the Christian world exploded with different sects and branches. Anabaptism, Calvinism, Quakers, Lutherans, the list just keeps going. It wouldn’t have been a foreign concept to Carlisle to sit down and say “Alright, who is God and what does He want from us”

I keep seeing Carlisle written as a Christian parody who cries because once when he was having sex with Esme in the dark some light entered the room and he saw her ankle, and now he thinks they’re both going to hell. And if we’re talking about the movies then sure, that guy seems the type. Book Carlisle is not this, and there’s nothing in canon to indicate as much, quite the contrary. (Yes, Edward is angsty about souls, but that’s not what Carlisle believes at all. It’s made clear over and over these two don’t agree on religion, so the argument that Edward somehow downloaded his religious angst from Carlisle defeats itself.)

It seems to me Carlisle came to the conclusion that sin is to take lives for pleasure, and that vampires are neither damned nor inherently sinful. This is the only action he appears to condemn, to view as sinful. Apart from that, he will kill to defend himself or others (the newborn battle and James), he’s pro-abortion, and he did not oppose Rosalie getting her revenge.

Apart from that I’m not going to extrapolate much, in part because that’d be hard to do when we don’t have a lot to go on and I’m not actually a theologician, and in part because this post is very long now. Feel free to ask if someone wants me putting on my philosophy hat and pretending I’m a vampire with a religious crisis.

(I will say this though: the notion of vampires being inherently sinful is just Original Sin in a hat. If Carlisle believes in it, then he also believes in Original Sin for humans, vice versa if he doesn’t. Doesn’t seem to be the case, but if it is then the vampirism by itself still isn’t any more damned than humanity.)

#carlisle cullen #long post #theology #religion #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #this was written because of my #pet peeve: badly written christian characters #thank god the star wars fans haven't realized how Christian the Jedi are #or the fanfiction would get ugly

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hyunnows · 3 years

Text

love, [Y/N] | jjk

► PAIRING: Jungkook x reader

► CONTENT/WARNINGS: angst, mentions of fluffy memories, mc death, lots of Jungkook tears, best friends!au, mentions of unrequited love

► WORD COUNT: 2k+

► RATING: pg13

► SUMMARY: "It’s not fair that he was holding the last of you in his hands, unable to focus on anything other than the last words he’ll ever receive from you."

↳ A/N: I got this idea at 2:36 am and I don't know where it came from but oh well. This was meant to be a 300-word blurb and we ended up at 2k lol. I haven't written anything for Jungkook compared to Tae, and honestly, this maknae has been climbing my bias list so here's a semi-self-indulgent fic filled with angst and crying! I hope you enjoy it, please feel free to leave feedback and reblog! Also, STREAM BUTTER!

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Shaking with fear, Jungkook gripped your hand tightly, tears pouring out his red eyes as your patient monitor fluctuated slightly. With a quivering lip, he croaks, “C'mon [Y/N], wake up. For me? Please…”

He feels your small fingers squeeze his own gently, weakly, and hope beams across his face. But just as soon as the hope had come, it vanished, your paling fingers going stiff in his palm. The once steady beeping now a quickly accelerating sequence, the sound ringing in the brunet boy's ears as his eyes go wide and breath cuts short.

He feels the nurses pull at him, trying to drag him out the room and he thrashes against them, his nails digging into your hospital bed with all their might until his knuckles turn white and his vision blurs. Loud sobs rack through his body as he slumps in the nurses’ arms, pressing the balls of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears and the burning. His cries almost choke him, the occasional cough jerking his body harshly.

When he sees the familiar face of the doctor, he prays that the downcast gaze and frown don't mean what he thinks.

“[L/N] [Y/N],” Seokjin takes a breath, his own eyes beginning to water at the words he's about to utter, “time of death: 2 am… I'm sorry Jungkook. I did everything, I-I tried every voltage and pumped her with liquids a-and everything I could d-do—I couldn't save her. I'm so—so sorry.”

It's like his entire world has crumbled in a second. His arms and chest are suddenly heavy, his lips, throat, and face feel dry and dehydrated, and his eyes can't decide if they want to be open or closed because of the stinging sensation they feel when he tries either. Sitting on the floor in front of your room, he takes the hand Jin outstretched and wobbles inside, only to fall back down the moment he sees your dull figure.

He doesn't care that a small crowd can see him babbling incoherently as he tries to apologize to you through his sniffles and whimper, crawling to your hand and lacing his fingers through yours.

Eventually, Taehyung and Jimin pick him up and drag him out of the building you took your last breath in. Jungkook didn't try to resist, knowing he was in no shape to put up a fight or drive himself home. He needed to get out of there anyway, the smell of death only he could detect suffocating him slowly.

On his way upstairs, Taehyung holds him back, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a short stack of envelopes—maybe two or three—rubber-banded together and hands them to the younger. “Her first day in the ER, she m-made me promise to give you these if she—if she… You know…”

Hearing they were yours, he takes them gently and swiftly, immediately holding them close as if they were his lifeline. He gives Taehyung a silent, stiff nod before turning and dragging himself to his room.

He doesn't open them right away, taking his time to admire your adorable calligraphy and observing every smudge or erased pencil mark you'd left on their light material.

He's not surprised to find every letter addressed to him, because it wouldn't be the first time you two had given each other messages the old-fashioned way, and he smiled softly at the “before you read” attached to the first envelope.

If you're not Jeon Jungkook, please don't read these. If you are, know that I'm still with you, in these letters, in your heart, our memories and that I will always be here, even though I'm sorry I can't physically be here with you right now. These are letters I've written to you, but never sent. They're from the bottom of my heart and they say everything I've ever wanted to tell you.

—[Y/N]

His heart beats harder as he opens the first letter, doing his best not to tear the envelope and keep it perfectly intact for him to save.

There are two Polaroids safety-pinned to the letter, both with his face and yours smiling brightly at each other. He gently unclips them, tucking them safely into the [Y/N]-specially decorated sleeve. He breathes in deeply and unfolds the letter, immediately tearing up at your handwriting on the wilting paper.

Dear Jungkook,

I know you don't think it's cool or modern to send letters, so I won't send this.

Anyway, I want to thank you for always being there for me, my big, strong, human-shoulder-tissue. I couldn't be luckier than I am to have you as my best friend.

And I know this is going to sound cheesy, but I love you more than anyone or anything in this world. You're the diamond to my sky, the sun to my earth, and the person I would choose to spend the rest of my life with.

In other words, I'm in love with you, Jeon. I wish you were in love with me, but I'm already the happiest girl in the world being by your side every day.

Your Best Freind,

[Y/N]

His heart pounds against his ribs, because you had been in love with him. You had wanted him to be the last face you'd ever see. You were right in front of him, your heart on your sleeve for who knows how long, and he hadn't known until you were dead. His face contorted into one of pain at the reality, and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears, taking long, shaky breaths before opening the second letter.

This note is considerably newer than the first, its edges still white and crisp, but the deepness of the creases tells him it's at least a few months old.

Dear Jungkookie,

Lately, I've been sick—which you know because I've told you. I haven't told you about my feelings yet because I don't want to scare you or pressure you, but I'm probably going to die before I ever get to tell you these things.

Since I told you how I felt in the last letter, I'm going to try and describe why in this letter. Reason number one, your presence. You always manage to just enter a dark, tense room and make it so much brighter and more comfortable. I don't know if it’s your smile or your laugh or the way you don't care if you're embarrassed or not, but you just manage to make everyone feel comfortable in themselves.

Reason number two, your kindness. I had never seen someone run back inside, get an entire table's worth of food, and give it away before. You're always so willing to give, despite the cost. I hope you never change.

Reason number three, it's kind of odd but I fell in love with your voice. Not just the way it sounds pretty when you sing, but the way it has the power to comfort whoever you’re singing to. I’ve always been able to come to you for support and comfort.

Reason number four is you know how to turn a bad day into a good one. You can talk to anyone who’s down for five minutes and you’ll turn them into a giggling, grinning mess.

Reason number five, you’ve always made me feel loved. Even though our entire relationship has been platonic—at least on your side—you’ve always checked up on me, held me, and made sure I knew I was enough and I can’t thank you enough for that.

Number six is your passion. You always put your all into everything you do. Be it making breakfast for the boys or helping me with a project I put off until the last minute, you make sure it’s all or nothing.

Seven is that you taught me how to love unconditionally. I always believed in falling in love and finding the one, but I never knew how intense it felt to be able to give your all to someone and not expect a single thing in return—until I met you. From the way your nose scrunches when you smile, to how you tilt your head when you’re confused, I love it all. From the best thing about you to the worst, it’s all you, and I wouldn’t want you to ever change. Every scar and blemish, each pore and lash, I’ve fallen in love with all of them because they make you, you.

I know you don’t feel the same, and in complete honesty, I love you so much I don’t even care. As long as you’re happy and I’m able to spend as much of my time by your side I’m happy.

He chokes on a sob when he finishes the second letter, tears dampening the card stock as he shivers. His heart clenches harder as he folds it back up, giving both pictures a once over before pinning them back on the letter.

Opening up the last envelope, a cry racks through his body, and he’s ugly crying now. The necklace he’d given you perfectly washi-taped against the letter. He pulls it off, tucking it tightly into his palm, and holds his breath. This time, the letter is a small, short piece of paper folded in half once.

He almost can’t read your small, dainty handwriting through his bubbling tears, but manages.

Hi Jungkook. Did you see the necklace?

It’s the one you bought me for my fifteenth birthday, that I told you I had lost. For a while, I had, and I remember I was too scared to tell you, but you noticed before I could anyway. I was so relieved you weren’t mad at me because I didn’t know what I would do if you were. I still don’t.

Anyway, the point of this short, last letter is to tell you how I want you to remember me. I don’t want you guys to think of me as your sickly friend who died when you were in your twenties… but I want you to remember the good memories we made together. I want you to remember the day we met, when I accidentally broke your bike and when we were both grounded for four months for sneaking out of our houses for our first party. I want you to remember how we got sick together because you couldn’t let me walk home alone in the rain, but you couldn’t drive and we both forgot jackets and umbrellas. I want you to remember the day you forgave me for losing the most precious thing anyone has ever given me, because that’s the day I fell in love with you.

This paper’s running out of space so I’m going to wrap this up. I want you to remember everything good about our time together, and not what ended it. Don’t think about how I’m gone, because I’m still with you, after death. These letters, the photos, and this necklace are what I’m leaving behind for you to keep. Don’t cry when you think of me, don’t think of the fact that we’ve been making our last memories, just don’t forget me.

Jungkook clutches the necklace tighter, afraid to drop it. Not only had he lost you, but he’d also missed out on the opportunity to be with you because he’d been too scared to ask you out while you were alive. He’d been in love with you since you two were eleven, tried to confess to you when you were fifteen, and lost you at twenty-three.

It’s not fair, he decides, it’s not fair that your love never got a real chance and it never would. It’s not fair that all these years you thought your feelings were one-sided when he reciprocated them ten-fold. It’s not fair that he was holding the last of you in his hands, unable to focus on anything other than the last words he’ll ever receive from you.

He sucks in a deep breath, barely croaking out your sign-off, “Love, [Y/N].”

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fresh-prince-of-denmark · 3 years

Text

Interpretation of V’s Mikoshi Poem Pt1: Life is Murder

Cyberpunk spoilers ahead:

Let’s talk about Cyberpunk’s literary references and what they mean for the story, coming from a former English professor/teacher.

Alt will read you one of two poems you cross the bridge to the Mikoshi depending on who is in control. Johnny is read an excerpt from Sailing to Byzantium by Yeats, while V is given an excerpt from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. For now, let’s focus on V’s poem:

“Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question. . . .

Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"

Let us go and make our visit.”

Cool. Some English majors (derogatory) work at project red. So why should I care?

Well I’ll tell you:

First, a summary: In this story, the narrator is on an evening stroll with a woman he most likely has a romantic relationship with although the vibes are far from a romantic love sonnet. Interestingly enough, the first few lines of this poem have been cut from Alt’s reading; including the epigraph from Dante’s inferno, which translates to the following:

“If I but thought that my response were made

to one perhaps returning to the world,

this tongue of flame would cease to flicker.

But since, up from these depths, no one has yet

returned alive, if what I hear is true,

I answer without fear of being shamed.”

This missing piece from Alt’s poem can be read several ways; most of them drawing a parallel between the Blackwell and hell. In fact, Dante’s inferno has a lot of similarities to the story. One can make a comparison between Virgil and Alt, leaving a debate on who plays the roll of Beatrice (the one being saved) and Dante (the one doing the saving) between Johnny and V. I have to wonder at the writers choice to leave this portion out, as there’s a lot to be said here about who truly comes out alive: who’s flame will cease to flicker? V, for obvious reasons, does not return to the world of the living the same. She will not live much longer, and is dying despite being temporarily “saved.” However, if Johnny returns to the body, he is no longer the Johnny we know; arrogant, self-assured, and more than a little narcissistic. The will to fight seems to have died within him; he leaves Night City, presumably looking to start over. While V clearly changes him before Mikoshi, he is a broken and somber man after returning to life, a flickering flame of who he once was. There’s also a connection to be made about Johnny/V dying and returning to life, literally rising from hell. The next part of the missing introduction is as follows:

“Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;”

I can’t think of a better way to describe what is happening in Mikoshi aside from the line “Like a patient etherized upon a table.” Johnny and V, in this moment, are suspended in an almost dream-like state. In Eliot’s poem, the “treatment” this patient is awaiting is presumably an examination/reflection of the self, which will lead to the narrator making a major decision. In this scenario, V is being forced to make a very tough choice, one that will take a lot of reflection as they decide what (a few months) of their remaining life is worth.

On to the actual portion of the poem that Alt reads:

“Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent.”

While Prufrock is taking his lover on a romantic stroll, they are hardly walking through rose gardens. They are traveling through the unpleasant parts of a city, and he is noticing all the unsavory parts of his world. Obvious references to night city include one-night hotels (such as the no-tell motel, the Pista Sofia, or the hotel that Johnny and V stay at after the parade, which Johnny gripes about and asks ‘what kind of losers stay in a place like this?), and ‘the sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells,’ which is possibly a reference to the fact that food in Night City is real sketchy (odd things like synth-milk, which Takemura complains about throughout the game). The streets like a tedious argument works on several levels here; both the crime of night city’s streets, which is relentless and quite literally never-ending (V can’t walk two blocks without an assault in progress task spawning), and the socio-economic ecosystem that threatens self-combust at any point. There will always be conflict between gangs, between corpos, between Arasaka and Militech, and between the nomads and the Raffins/Wraiths. In one mission with Padre, you find out that Arasaka and Militech are on the verge of waging another war. None of this conflict is positive, and always ends in bloodshed, often of the innocent. One can argue themselves in circles trying to find a solution to NC’s problems, there is no win-win situation. It’s a bit of a damnned if you do, damnned if you don’t situation. This comes up in conversation with Takemura on his career with Arasaka, as well as several other missions that involve those who choose to work for corporations to survive. This is also a point of conflict between V and Johnny a multiple times, one that never gets an answer. A literal tedious argument, tedious because there are no ‘happy endings for all involved’ in Night City. The final lines of Alt’s reading have more to do with V/Johnny’s final choice:

“To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.”

All the unsavory things V has to do to survive, all the people that have died to get to Mikoshi, lead up to one ‘overwhelming’ question: who will live on? There are so many other questions that should be answered: what is beyond the Blackwall? Are Johnny and Alt real, or is the soul truly dead, and are they just a copy of the people they once were? What happens to the idea of God and the afterlife when you introduce the idea of Soulkiller? But much like in the poem, we don’t get these answers. In fact, we are barely given time to contemplate the question as we fight for survival. A decision must be made, despite not knowing or even having time to dwell on these answers. Similarly Johnny, when presented with these questions in several side quests, refuses to even entertain the question, much like the poem’s narrator.

The rest of the poem, which is not included in Alt’s reading, is full of allusions to the story. The “yellow fog,” which persists across the poem is full of cat-like imagery, conjuring the bakaneko, the spirit of misfortune that can bring people back to life that Takemura mentions (coincidence that V/Johnny can adopt a cat? Keeping death as a close companion? I think not). Prufrock spends the rest of the poem contemplating his question, talking himself in circles, and the only thing that changes is his age as time slips by. Just as he seems to be making progress, he talks himself back to square one and begins again. Much in the same way, Johnny and V go in the same circles. Their journey begins with their deaths, and to death they will both return no matter what. Nothing they did really mattered, the world remains the same, broken and unfair. As Prufrock later contemplates: “Do I dare/ Disturb the universe?…Would it have been worth while/ To have bitten off the matter with a smile,? To have squeezed the universe into a ball?” Johnny loses his life trying to strike against an unjust world, yet he is scarcely a memory to most residents of Night City, who do not have time to contemplate what is right and what is wrong; their focus must be on survival.

Interestingly enough, both the poem and Cyberpunk reference similar secondary materials. Prufrock references Lazarus and Hamlet as he contemplates how he will never lead an exciting existence. Lazarus, much like V/Johnny, famously rose from the dead. Hamlet is a reoccurring theme in the storyline; Prufrock, V/Johnny, and Hamlet all are faced having to inevitably make a very difficult decision, the latter two involving tragedy for all no matter what. It’s also up for debate whether Hamlet is turning mad, similar to how we can’t be sure how much Johnny is driving V “mad” by taking over their mind. Despite this comparison, V/Johnny are no Hamlet/Lazarus. They are Prufrock; their lives, and their deaths, are meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Despite their efforts, they will simply fade away until they remain only in the memories of those they left behind. The play is further referenced as Jackie’s grave reads “Goodnight, sweet Prince,” and in a deleted audio file Johnny tells V “Sleep well prince/princess” before taking control if V chooses to attack Arasaka with Rogues help. What makes this more interesting is when you look at the line in which Hamlet is mentioned:

“No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two,

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

Deferential, glad to be of use,

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—

Almost, at times, the Fool.”

The Fool, which is mentioned several times by Misty, represents V and Johnny, in the journey that is told by the major arcane in tarot. The beginning of a journey — of a cycle — while the Death card symbolizes the ending of one phase and the beginning of another. An often painful transformation into something new. The main theme of Eliot’s poem is cycles; he talks himself in circles, never making a choice, always ending up where he begins. Circles are mentioned once again by Kerry during his personal mission, when he talks about beginning a new cycle in his life. V/Johnny’s journey together begins with death, and so it must end that way for them; whether it is a physical death, or a death of the self. No matter what, V’s fate is inevitable; they will face death again head-on, just as they did at the beginning of their story. The chosen passages of this poem asserts this cycle — the first three words of Alt’s first and last sentence are the same:

“Let us go.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk v #v cyberpunk #arasaka #cp2077 #cp 2077 #cyberpunk2077 #cp project red #v #Alt Cunningham #cyberpunk spoilers #insufferable former English majors unite #please add your own thoughts to this #and thank you for coming to my dissertation defense #my posts #cyberpunk meta #cyberpunk 2077 meta

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bonnyskies · 4 years

Text

come back to me [three] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairings — husband!jungkook x malereader, ft. ceo!jaehyun (that’s right babes, he’s in here)

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warnings — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 2.7k

masterlist

You were utterly exhausted.

After last night, when discovering that Jungkook left you in the middle of the night to be with her, you didn’t get much sleep after that. You just laid out on your bed, staring up at your bedroom’s ceiling with tears in your eyes.

This morning, you felt like absolute death. Bags were evident underneath your eyes and your hands that were trembling uncontrollably, resting by your sides. It took you nearly two hours to get ready compared to your usual one, due to the fact that you couldn’t stop crying.

Jungkook didn’t come home in the morning, didn’t even bother to send you a single text.

It was painful, realizing that your relationship has to come that point where you two acted like complete strangers with each other rather than a married couple. Ten years together, and you never once thought it would ever come to this.

“Hey,” you instantly jumped in your seat at the sound of a man’s deep voice, breaking you away from your troubling thoughts with your heart stammering at a fast pace. When brought back to reality, your eyes landed on none other than the CEO of Jung Enterprises and your boss—Jung Jaehyun. “Are you alright? You seem out of it.”

“Y-Yes, sir.” You answered, clearing your throat. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Jaehyun nodded hesitantly, unsure of your answer but decided not to push it any farther. “Oh, okay.” He then approached your desk, “Remember we have that meeting with our sponsors in about ten minutes. Is everything ready for the presentation?”

“Yes, sir.” You replied again, standing up from your chair and handing him the file that you two put together for today’s conference. “Would you like to go prepare for the presentation?”

Jaehyun nodded, “That’d be good.” He then walked over to your office’s door and opened it, allowing you to step out first, which you did. But when you passed him, you were stopped when Jaehyun suddenly grasped your wrist. “And {Name}, I’d like to also apologize for what happened yesterday.” The reminder made your heart stutter inside your chest. “It was highly inappropriate for me to do that, and I’m sorry if I anyway made you feel uncomfortable—”

“Sir,” you interrupted, “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was just shocking that’s all.”

And once again, Jaehyun only nodded, shoving his hands into his suit’s pockets. “Well, I’m still sorry.”

“It’s alright sir, really.” You smiled reassuringly, reaching up and gently placing your hand onto his bicep, feeling your cheeks heat up at the feeling of the strong muscle. You two then shared a small smile with each other before heading towards the conference room.

While walking alongside him, you couldn’t help but think about what yesterday’s events. The memories resurfacing in your mind.

When entering your workplace’s building, you couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation you and Jungkook just had in the car.

You didn’t know whether you believed him or not, if he was telling the truth when he said that he’d change and start trying. You just hope that he was. You’ve been left disappointed by him too many times already.

As you made your way to the building’s elevator, you were suddenly stopped by the company’s receptionist, Jenna. “Hey, {Name}.” Her cheery voice made you slightly irritated. Ever since the downfall between you and Jungkook happened, everything and everyone that resembled happiness made you feel sick. “Mr. Jung has requested for you to come to his office first thing today. Something about having to prepare a presentation for some visiting sponsors tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll head right up.” You smiled fakely, nodding.

After entering the elevator and going up to the highest floor—level twenty specifically. The few workers that worked on the level gave you greeting smiles, already knowing who you are. Out of everyone in the company, you’re the one who’s closest to the boss. You are his assistant after all. And since you’re so close to him, that meant you didn’t have to knock before entering his office.

“Hello sir,” you greeted warmly, smiling at the sight of Jaehyun behind his desk, dressed in the finest suit that hugged his figure perfectly, making every muscle in his body look more define.

“Hey,” Jaehyun greeted back, briefly glancing up from his computer with a bright smile on his face before returning back to the screen. “Glad that you’re finally here.”

“Yeah, sorry.” You apologized, closing the door behind you and quickly taking a seat at his desk. “I had a meeting with my son’s teacher this morning.”

“It’s alright, {Name}.” Jaehyun was quick to reassure you, noticing your uneasy expression. “I know you. You would never be late for work unless it was an emergency.” He then continued when seeing you begin to calm down. “Is everything alright with Minho?”

Your heart warmed at the mention of your son. Jaehyun knew about Minho—even met him, and your son even saw him as his ‘samchon’. “He’s okay, just some behavior problems.”

“Well, if you need any help, just let me know.” Jaehyun offered kindly, making you smile.

“Thank you,” you replied gratefully, smiling. “Now, about that presentation. Should we get started on creating it?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun answered instantly, turning one of the two computer screens he had on his desk towards you. “Now, I’m thinking of doing this type of set up for the presentation...”

The two of you spent the rest of the day on this important project. And after seven excruciating hours of staring at the computer, creating slides, applying data, you two were finally done.

With the once clear bright sky replaced with complete darkness, you and Jaehyun were still in his office, glass of wine in hand as you two celebrated this small accomplishment. By far, out of the five years you’ve worked for him this is the longest time you two spent on a simple presentation.

“Thank you for helping me with this.” Jaehyun showed his gratitude, smiling against the glass’s rim before taking a small sip. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

“Oh, stop.” You waved him off, lowering your head to hide the evident blush that was forming on your cheeks. “You’re just saying that because I’m the only one who is willing to stay after hours with you.”

Jaehyun chuckled. The sound of his deep laughter sending shivers down your spine. “No, seriously. {Name},” he then suddenly reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. “Without you, I’d be lost. You’re the one who keeps me grounded, who keeps me from going absolutely crazy from the stress.”

“W-Well that’s my job.” You anxiously stuttered out, staring at your conjoined hands. “I’m your assistant. I’m suppose to help you with everything.”

“That’s not what I meant, {Name}.” His voice, the way his said your name made your heart skip a beat. Silence filled the room as you two just stared at one another, eyes shifting down at each other’s lips.

You didn’t know who made the first move, but next thing you knew his lips were on yours, and you were laid out on top of his desk. His tie and jacket discarded on the ground and the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, showing off his sharp collarbones. Your entire body was burning as your lips moved perfectly in sync with his, hands sliding down his toned torso, feeling his define muscles through the shirt’s material.

It was like you were in another world, the feeling of his lips moving away from yours and moving down your jawline and neck, leaving small, lingering kisses on your skin. You didn’t realize what you were doing until you felt his hands that were resting on your waist begin to move up and slide underneath your shirt, caressing your stomach.

Panic swept over you, making you instantly push away and wipe your lips with your hand. “Jae stop, I-I’m married.”

Jaehyun pulled away, taking a few steps back. “Shit, sorry. I-It’s just that—” he paused, running his hand frustratingly through his light brown hair, “—you haven’t talked about Jungkook for a long time and you haven’t been the same lately so I just thought you two separated.”

Your heart sunk from his words. “N-No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.” You were standing up now, biting down on your bottom hard enough to where it drew blood. “Me and Jungkook are going through a rough patch right now,” you partially lied. “That’s why I’ve been acting differently lately.”

Jaehyun only nodded, swiping his thumb over his swollen lips. Neither of you knew what to say to each other.

“I-I should go,” you pointed towards the door. Again, Jaehyun nodded, reaching down and picking his jacket and tie up from the ground. “I’ll see you tomorrow, M-Mr. Jung. Have a good night.”

“You too,” was the only Jaehyun could bring himself to say as he watched you leave, chest heaving and lips still burning from yours.

“Well that meeting was a complete success,” was the first thing you said as you and Jaehyun entered his office, dropping the used file onto his desk before leaning yourself against it. “Congratulations, sir. You just got three new sponsorships for the company.”

“All thanks to you.” Jaehyun grinned, walking over to small fridge he kept inside his office and pulled out a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

You shook your head before correcting him, “Thanks to us.” You then watched as he poured himself and you a glass. “Are you sure drinking is a good idea? You still have to drive home.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jaehyun instantly reassured, handing your glass. “Plus we’ve got celebrate.”

Hesitantly you took the glass of champagne, “Would you be able to take me home?” And when he nodded, you gave in and took a small sip of the beverage.

And one glass soonturned into three, and then to four and now, you were completely wasted. You’ve always been a light head but Jaehyun, he was completely fine, pouring himself his fifth glass while watching you trying to hold in the champagne with amusement. “Okay, maybe that’s enough for you.”

You pouted when he took your half-empty glass away before gulping down his own. “Are you ready to head home now?” You then nodded.

Jaehyun and you then left the building, not having to bother saying goodbye to anyone else since you two were the only ones left at work. Jaehyun then led you towards his car, which was a beautiful black Ford Mustang. The sight of the expensive vehicle made your jaw drop, making Jaehyun chuckle at your stunned expression before opening the passenger door and allowing you to enter before closing it behind you.

“What is it?” Jaehyun asks the moment he starts his vehicle but doesn’t move, watching you with amusement as you looked around the inside with complete adoration. “Ugly?”

“No,” you instantly shook your head, smiling as you turned to face him. “It’s just really beautiful.”

Jaehyun raised a brow, “Doesn’t Jungkook have something like this?”

You shook your head, frowning slightly at the mention of his name. “No, he chose to trade it in for a more family friendly one for us when we got Minho.” You answered, running your hand gently across the dashboard’s smooth material. “We got a Mercedes SUV, but still, sometimes I miss his old Camari.” The many memories of the times you and Jungkook used to spend in his car began to flash through your mind, warming your heart. “It reminded me of the good old days with him. When everything was simple.”

Noticing the tears beginning to glisten in your eyes, Jaehyun reached over and placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “Hey, you okay?”

You quickly nodded, clearing your throat and quickly blinking away the tears before they had the chance of escaping. “Yeah, I-I’m fine. Let’s just go, yeah?”

Jaehyun kept staring you, eyes filled with concern but nonetheless nodded and started to drive.

The drive was completely silent, neither of you saying a word to each other. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable though, but rather the opposite. Jaehyun and you were close with one another, close enough to where you two didn’t even have talk and yet still feel comfortable with each other.

When arriving at your house, your heart instantly sunk when seeing that Jungkook’s car wasn’t in the driveway. It was near eleven and his practice ended at eight. You knew exactly where he was right now—with her. Jaehyun must’ve noticed your fallen expression because next thing you knew you felt his hand on your shoulder. “Hey, if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here for you. You know that right? Always.”

You gave him a simple nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I know.” Glancing back at the empty driveway, your heart ached as heinous thoughts of Jungkook and Yeonha together consumed and haunted your mind, tears swelling up in your eyes once again. You then turned towards Jaehyun, “Do you want to come in?”

Your question shocked Jaehyun, making his eyes widen. He thought you were joking. But when seeing your glistening eyes, shining with tears, he knew you were serious, so he nodded.

Time flew by, and now it was one in the morning.

You and Jaehyun were sitting on your living room’s couch, you dressed in your pajamas which consisted of one of his shirts and a pair of boxers while Jaehyun was still in his suit.

Neither of you were drinking surprisingly, but instead had the tub of your favorite ice cream placed between you two, sharing it with your own individual spoon.

Jaehyun kept his word when he said that he’d be there for you. He sat there while you told him everything that has been going with you in the past week—hell, even the last six months. You told him about Jungkook’s love for you vanishing and him gaining feelings for another person. You told him about your guys’ open relationship, explaining how that was the only choice you had to keep your family together even if that meant you and Jungkook weren’t together.

Tears were spilling from your eyes uncontrollably and heavy sobs were falling from your lips, making your words come out illegible, but Jaehyun continued to listen nonetheless. “I’m sorry, {Name}.” He was speechless. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

You could only shrug, afraid that if you spoke again nothing but cries would come out.

“Jungkook’s a complete asshole—” Jaehyun was interrupted at the sound of the front door opening, both of you turning to see that it was none other than your husband himself entering the house.

The sound of approaching footsteps made your heartbeat quicken and hands tremble. Jaehyun stared at you, noticing your sudden change in demeanor.

When Jungkook approached the living room, his eyes instantly landed on you, and just as he was about to speak, his gaze then shifted on to Jaehyun who sat very close beside you, his gaze immediately hardening at the sight of him.

“H-Hey,” you quickly stood up from the couch, Jaehyun following. “Didn’t know you were coming home tonight.”

Jungkook’s glaring eyes remained on Jaehyun as he asked you, “Where’s Minho?”

“He’s with my eomma.” You answered, playing with your fingers anxiously while staring down at the ground, distancing yourself from Jaehyun. His tone was dark, angry almost. “Tonight’s date night.”

Instantly, you noticed Jungkook tense up. Every now and then, your mother would come take Minho for the night, allowing you and Jungkook to have the rest of day for yourselves, saying how having days together can go a long way in a marriage. But you and Jungkook haven’t been on a date in half a year.

“I-I should go.” Jaehyun awkwardly spoke up, clearing his throat and grabbing his suit’s jacket that was draped over the couch.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” You agreed, guiding him towards the front door. Jungkook’s eyes never left Jaehyun as you bid him goodbye, not missing the way you smiled at him or how your eyes briefly scanned his strong figure.

The moment you closed the door, your heart sunk to your chest. Turning around, you were met with Jungkook’s burning eyes. He was angry, furious even. And you knew exactly why.

Jeon Jungkook hated Jung Jaehyun with every fiber and bone in his body.

~ shit’s about to go down in the next chapter!

TAGLIST:

@xworldwidecutieguyx, @yoongis-soulmate, @jikookvfans, @heartfeltscribblings, @chrissfuk, @blazedprince, @btsfaris, @sonderkook, @rspctot7, @http-je0n, @magic-fox-555, @moonfairyjoon, @taozibun1, @ephemeralkookie, @thesquiglybumblebee, @httpjazel, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @dreamer95, @--xxchrissyxx--,

#bonnyskies #bts #bts series #bts angst #bts x reader #bts x male reader #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook series #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x male reader #jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x male reader #bts au #jeon jungkook au #jungkook au

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daveeddiggsit · 4 years

Text

Broken, but Not Shattered

WIDEOUT MASTERLIST

Series: WIDEOUT (chpt vii)

Note: This took me so long to write. Partly bc I kept getting distracted from other projects, but partly bc it’s a hella long chapter. ANYWAYS, i really hope you enjoy. To me, it feels like a movie, but let me know your thoughts! Enjoy :)

Word Count: 10.1k

Pairing: Football Player!Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Warnings: injury. T has a panic attack at some point. poor T, he just needs a hug :( implied sex. angst. cursing. smooches. mental health struggle in wake of an incident. anxiety.

Summary: During your Senior year of high school, an unfortunate event happens during Thomas’ last football game of the regular season. Thomas gets pushed to his limits mentally and physically. How does your relationship fare in the wake of his injury?

Tagging: @coololdsoulpoetlove @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @lilangeldevil006 @pana-ce-a @merrahonthawall @katierpblogg @thespianbooks @a-hopeless-fan @uniquelystarchildthedragon @wcreech @sabbrriiinnaa @imperial-martian @harpersmariano @icanneverbesatisfied @underthewillowtreerycb @i-know-i-can

ELEVEN MONTHS LATER...

Your high school holds an annual tailgate before the final home football game of each season. This is the first time you are motivated (and excited) to attend the tailgate. The past three years, you’d decided to skip out, but due to this year being your Senior year (Thomas also may or may not have something to do with it), you partake in this year’s festivities along with the rest of the student body.

After the bell rings, dismissing everybody from their last class of the day, a sea of students migrates down to the football stadium. There, you and Maria discover food vendors of all sorts along with party games that are scattered around the perimeter of the stadium and in the parking lot. It almost feels like a carnival in a way, except there are no rides and you’re surrounded by a bunch of kids with a copious amount of school pride.

You and your best friend have fun and roam around for some time, getting a bite to eat at a vendor here and there. Everyone around you is having a blast, whether they’re walking around in their friend groups or playing games.

Eventually, you and Maria go to get some ice cream, but on the way you run into Ellie, a cheerleader who also happens to be a Senior. You’ve gotten to know her well due to your now frequent presence at Panther Football games and because she’s in your English class. You also hear a lot about her from Maria, who probably spends more time photographing the cheerleader than the actual football games now since they’ve met. You notice that she speaks of Ellie while gushing about her beauty and intelligence extremely often; it’s safe to say that Maria has an immense crush on her.

“Oh, hey, guys! Nice to see you.” Ellie says with a smile, causing you and your best friend to stop walking.

Although the cheerleader has greeted you both, her gaze barely wavers from Maria, and suddenly you feel like you are intruding. That’s when you decide that it’s time to become Maria’s wingwoman.

“Hey!” You grin widely, looking between her and Maria. “Ellie! Maria was actually just talking about you.” Your best friend’s eyes widen at your lack of subtlety.

“Really?” Ellie asks, her eyes brightening up as she turns her full attention to Maria who blushes slightly.

She coughs lightly to try and cover it up before her eyes quickly flit over to you in a panic. You raise your eyebrows and use your hand to gesture her to go on.

“Oh, um…” Maria starts, pulling your gaze away from you and towards Ellie. “Yeah, El, I uh was…” She glances up at you again over Ellie’s shoulder and you point to the ice cream truck next to you and mouth, ‘get ice cream.’ “...wondering if you wanted to come and get some ice cream with me? Us. At the truck.”

You have never ever, in your seven years of best friendship, seen Maria act this nervous around a girl… let alone need your help to talk to someone she likes. There’s something about this Ellie girl that has turned Maria completely shy and you can’t help but gush at how cute the both of them are.

“Oh, yeah! I’d really like that.” Ellie says happily, causing Maria to grin. They both turn around to walk towards the ice-cream truck and Maria stops for a second, noticing that you’re not with them anymore.

“Y/N, are you coming?” She asks, slightly more comfortable now that Ellie’s accepted her offer.

“No, you guys go. I just uh…” You try to think of an excuse when suddenly your phone vibrates, luckily giving you one. You glance down at it, seeing a text pop up from your boyfriend. “I just got a text from Thomas, so I should probably go meet him. You guys have fun, though!”

Ellie nods, saying, “We will! See you around, Y/N,” before gently grabbing Maria’s arm to lead her away.

Beaming, Maria turns her head towards you and mouths, “thanks, love you.” You send her a wink and blow her a kiss, watching her walk away with her soon-to-be beau. This is the happiest you’ve seen her in a long time and you’re beyond excited to see her finally want to start dating someone again after her last breakup with her lying ex-boyfriend, Alexander.

Satisfied with your work, you turn to walk through the crowds of students and towards the underneath of the bleachers: the breathtakingly romantic spot Thomas has chosen for you to meet.

When you arrive, you don’t spot him for a second before you feel a pair of arms snake around your waist from behind. A familiar voice sounds next to your ear, causing you to shiver unintentionally. “You’re looking mighty cute today, princess. You come here often?”

You relax against the warm body behind you once you realize who the voice belongs to. A small smile spreads across your cheeks as you respond. “Under the bleachers? Nah. I’m only here because I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”

“Oh?” You can hear the smile in his voice as his arms wrap more snuggly around you. “Well, he must be a very lucky guy.”

You lean your head back against Thomas’ shoulder. “Yep. Extremely lucky, considering the fact that we’re both standing in the space where people do God knows what during games.”

He just laughs and nuzzles his face into your neck, his warm breath fanning out against you. He presses a few kisses there before his lips trail up to your cheek to press a chaste peck there as well. “I was wonderin’ how long it was gonna take for you to show up.” Thomas murmurs against your skin and your eyes flutter shut at the contact.

You muster up the strength to turn your body in his arms so that you can face him. Thomas is breathtakingly handsome as always, sporting his charcoal football jersey over a dark hoodie and a pair of black ripped jeans. He’s beaming and smiling down at you like you’re his whole world.

“It wasn’t that long.” You roll your eyes with a lazy grin tugging at your lips. “I was hanging with Maria until we ran into Ellie, so I left them alone to come meet you.”

“Yeah? They together yet? They keep dancin’ around each other; one of them needs to make a move.”

You laugh at Thomas’ words. “Hey, you make it sound like it’s easy.”

“They’re so obviously into each other! They need to just confess their feelings and get together. Can’t be that difficult.” Thomas shrugs, looking down at you.

You just give him a pointed look. “You’re one to talk, Jefferson. Do you remember how nervous you were before our first kiss? Your hands were literally shaking…”

Thomas withdraws his touch from your waist and crosses his arms over his chest. He licks his lips and looks away for a second before he speaks. “Alright, alright, come on, now.” His deadpanned gaze shifts back to you, but the glint in his eyes is playful. “You still gonna hold that over me? It’s almost been a year.”

You splay your arms out innocently as your mouth falls open with a smile. “It was cute!”

“I was vulnerable, Y/N!” He responds dramatically with wide eyes. “I didn’t know what you were feeling. What if you’d rejected me?”

“Well, I didn’t.” You take a step closer to him, reaching your hands up to wrap around his forearms to pull his arms back down around you, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, you’re just standing there with your hands on his forearms as you two stare at each other. “T, I obviously didn’t reject you.”

“I know that now.” Thomas finally unfolds his arms and brushes his hands up your arms and down your body before they come to a stop at your waist again. He hugs you close to him before he speaks again. “But I wasn’t sure if you were even into me like that back then.”

You grin, looking up at him and settling your hands on his chest. “Exactly, so don’t blame El and M for not rushing things. Let them figure it out on their own.”

“Alright, point made, sweetheart, point made.” He laughs, rolling his eyes before staring down at you with a gaze that you can’t quite describe. It makes your breath catch in your throat and your heart swell. You can’t put your finger on it, but it’s soft but firm at the same time and it has a certain fondness to it that you can’t decipher — it’s like he’s sure of something, but doesn’t want to voice it.

The comfortable silence between you stretches on as he continues to stare unabashedly.

You grab a hold of the black polyester material of his jersey to pull him closer. “What?” You ask, breathing out a nervous laugh.

Thomas snaps out of his gaze by releasing a chuckle before he leans down, causing his face to near yours. His smile reaches his eyes and causes your heart to soar. “Nothin’... just—” His eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second. “You’re a good friend, baby.”

“Yeah?” You whisper, grinning as your noses brush against each other.

“Mhm.” He hums before he leans in to sweetly press his mouth to yours.

The kiss warms you up as his hands leave your waist to hold your face gently. Your fingers clutch his jersey tightly, pulling him against you as his lips slowly capture yours again and again, leaving you breathless.

Kissing Thomas never gets old; it’s always like a breath of fresh air. You revel in the sense of presence he creates every time you’re close to him. It’s relaxing, giving you a feeling of home and familiarity that only he can provide.

You two just stay there for a bit, hugging each other closely as the sounds of music and chatter from students can be heard in the distance. You’re content in his warm embrace, and he’s the only thing keeping you warm in the chilly Autumn weather.

Some time later, Thomas leads you out from under the bleachers to walk to the topside of them. You two sit at the front row towards the bottom of the vacant seats. Leaning your head against Thomas’ shoulder, you look out to the empty football field.

“So, a scout for W&M Football is gonna be at the game today.” Thomas voices softly, causing you to pull back enough to look him in the eye. “Coach said he’s been talking to him about me, so he flew out to watch me play in person.”

“Really? Holy shit, Thomas, that’s amazing.” You say, grinning and reaching a hand up to tenderly hold his cheek. “I’m proud of you, babe.”

He smiles and looks down bashfully before he gazes back at you. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, sweetheart. Haven’t impressed the guy enough to get a scholarship yet.”

“Exactly. ‘Yet.’ You will, you know that.” You say, moving your hand back down to lightly nudge his arm. “You’re the most ‘confident’ guy I know.” You put air quotes around confident because that’s what Thomas dubs himself instead of letting himself get called cocky.

He laughs, shaking his head before he looks back out, squinting his eyes in the bright sunlight. The golden rays bring out the brown in his curls and eyes, making them a more honey shade. “That I am, I suppose.”

“You nervous?” You ask, watching him closely. As much as Thomas pegs himself the confident (and sometimes arrogant by others) one on the outside, you know that he’s still human and experiences times of unsureness.

“For the game or the scout?”

“Both.” You answer, shrugging, watching a golf cart fly by on the track in front of you.

Thomas glances back at you and momentarily admires the way the sunlight illuminates your face. A smile spreads across his lips before he responds. “To be honest? Not really.” He says, causing you to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “For the game? Not nervous at all. We beat Easton by 30 points last time we played them. And as far as the W&M scout goes, I am a bit nervous, but I know I should be fine as long as I play like I normally do.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Wow… and here I was thinking that Thomas Jefferson was turning a little modest on me.”

He just laughs, his gaze playful as he looks at you. “Never, darlin’. Can’t be unsure of myself when I got my girl on the sideline as my good luck charm.”

You grin and shake your head at him. “Well, for what it’s worth and not that you need any more words of encouragement — because you seem to have it all figured out,” You give him a pointed look that’s more teasing than anything serious. “I think you’re gonna be great today, T.” You say sweetly, perching your chin on his shoulder.

Thomas’ grin brightens and he moves to place his lips gently on your forehead before he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. He rests his head on top of yours as you both turn to watch the white lines on the turf get freshly painted over in preparation for the game later.

“Your words will always mean more to me than you think, sweetheart.” He says softly.

⋆﹥ ━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Maria shows up later than usual to the sideline to start setting up her gear. You can’t help but be slightly suspicious about her previous whereabouts and you wonder if it has to do with a certain cheerleader.

“Sooo…” You start off, the corner of your mouth twisting up into a knowing grin. “Where were you? Why’re you late?”

Maria just smiles bashfully as she starts to unpack her camera bag. “I’m getting some real Deja Vu from last year when you and Thomas got together, except now I’m in your shoes.”

You laugh, watching her as she blushes slightly and pauses her actions. “So, I’m guessing that you were with Ellie?” Maria nods, causing you to grin wider. “Are you guys official yet?”

You wait in anticipation as you stare at Maria who purses her lips before she looks away for a second. “I don’t know.” She mumbles.

“What?” You ask, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“I don’t know.” Maria repeats, looking back at you, shrugging her shoulders.

“What do you mean you don’t know, Maria?”

“I mean, she kissed me… and then we got interrupted by something, and then we didn’t really talk about labeling ourselves or anything, but she said to meet her after the game, so… I don’t know.”

You think for a second. “Well, if she wants you to meet her after the game, that means she wants to talk to you, right? So, just ask her then.”

“Ask her what?”

“Are you serious?” You give her a pointed look, a small grin pulling at your lips. “Ask her to be your girlfriend, dummy. That’s what you want, right?”

Maria busies herself by cleaning the lens of her camera with a rag. “I just… don’t wanna mess this up, Y/N. That’s why I get so nervous around her. All my past relationships have been shitty and… I don’t want her to turn into another one. You get what I mean?”

You nod in understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that, but hey,” you put a hand on her arm, causing her to look at you. “She’s different, though. You’ve said it before, and I can see it. I have a good feeling about this one… and I’m sure you do, too. I say go for it, M. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. You deserve to be happy.”

You pause for a second before you ramble on. “Not that being in a relationship solely constitutes happiness, but… you know what I mean.”

Maria just smiles and looks down for a second before she puts her camera down and hugs you tightly. “Thanks, Y/N. Really, it means a lot.” She mumbles against your shoulder and you squeeze her back just as tightly.

“Any time, M. It’s what I’m here for.” You say softly, rubbing her back. “You give me advice all the time, now it’s my turn. It’s a two-way street. We gotta support each other.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Maria sighs when she pulls back from the hug. “Okay, I’m gonna ask her. After the game. If you’re cool with waiting around a little bit, I know I’m your ride home, so—”

You dismiss her worries with a wave of your hand. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get T to drive me. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Yeah, but tonight was supposed to be Girls’ Night…”

“Don’t worry about it, Maria.” You stress with a smile. “We’ll reschedule. Promise. When the game ends, you go get your girl. Win or lose… no matter what, okay?”

Maria nods and takes in a deep breath.

“Okay. Promise.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Thomas was right earlier. Easton High School’s football team is not a great team. The game is a complete blowout with your home team beating their opponent 38-7 at halftime. You can tell that the other team is salty from some things you can hear them yelling on the opposite side of the field, but they really have no grounds to talk because of the fact that they’re getting beat so badly by Thomas’ team.

You were also right earlier. Thomas has been having a phenomenal game. It’s one of the best games you’ve seen him play thus far — he has three touchdowns and it’s only the beginning of the third quarter.

Although Easton has the ball currently as they try to score, Thomas, Aaron, James, and the rest of his teammates standing on the sideline don’t seem fazed or worried at all. They’re all goofing around by laughing and making jokes with each other. At some point, Thomas even goes over to his position coach to ask for some Skittles and he gives him a handful.

You don’t even raise an eyebrow when you spot him with a handful of candy during games anymore. You’ve noticed him, James, and Aaron with them throughout the season and you have no desire to ask anymore.

It isn’t long before the Panthers’ defense stops Easton’s drive with an interception, allowing the ball to go back to the Panthers offense’s possession. You watch as Thomas scrambles to get on the field with his teammates after finishing the last of his candy. He’s lucky that his coach doesn’t see him chewing when he puts his helmet back on.

There’s still plenty of game left, and it looks like Coach Washington isn’t planning on backing down his offense just yet when he yells at them to score. He doesn’t plan on showing any mercy to the visiting team.

Thomas is on the side of the field closest to you, but he doesn’t notice because his focus is locked into the game now. You can hear him jawing off with his defender as they both line up at the line of scrimmage. If Thomas Jefferson is known for one thing on the field, it’s trash talking — especially if someone on the opposing team initiates it.

Jefferson keeps his composure as he riles his opponent up, enough for you to notice that the other guy is heated.

The ball is snapped, starting play and Thomas sprints ahead of his defender. The quarterback throws the ball in his direction and Thomas jumps up to catch it when suddenly he is tackled by his opponent before his fingers can even graze the football. It’s a dirty play to say the least, and this causes the home side of the stadium to erupt in massive boos.

You yell in disgust at the hit along with Maria who stands besides you, but luckily Thomas is up on his feet in no time and yelling in the face of his defender. James runs up to separate him so that he doesn’t get a personal foul.

The refs throw their flags and call a ‘pass interference’ penalty, which satisfies the home team and their fans. It’s not long before both teams go to the new line of scrimmage, which is much closer to the end zone now.

Play starts again and Thomas swiftly runs towards the end zone while faking out his defender once again. He’s able to catch the ball this time and sprints far ahead of the opponents of the other team. He slows down right before he gets to the end zone and tauntingly waves at the defender who tackled him in the previous play.

Next, everything feels like it’s slow motion.

Right before Thomas crosses the goal line, two of the defenders from the other team dive to tackle him from behind and you can hear the impact of their bodies hitting him from your position on the sideline. One of the tacklers comes up short and lands on Thomas’ left ankle, causing it to buckle while Thomas falls down along with it in the end zone.

The entire stadium erupt into cheers at the touchdown, unaware of the damage done to the star wide receiver. The defenders stand up and are pushed back by their teammates. Seconds pass by and gradually, the cheers start to die down as Thomas still lies face-down on the turf, his left hand weakly reaching towards his left ankle.

He’s not getting up.

Your heart begins to beat rapidly in your chest as panic starts to rise. Oh… oh no.

“Come on, baby. Come on. Get up.” You whisper under your breath. “You’re okay, Tommy. Please get up.”

Slowly, Thomas is able to get himself on his hands and knees, but it’s not without him yelping in pain. Your heart breaks for him.

James sprints and is crouched on the ground by Thomas’ side in no time. He puts a comforting hand on his back and you can see him talking to him, asking him if he’s okay. After a few seconds, James turns towards the sideline and signals for a trainer to go to them. Thomas slowly turns over so that he lies on his back with help from James and you can see his body writhe in pain as he reaches for his lower left leg again.

There’s an eerie quiet that blankets the stadium now. You don’t like it. You hate how a place filled with sounds of happiness and joy could morph into a space almost completely stripped of sound period — filled with emptiness and despair instead at the drop of a dime.

Now all the players on the field take a knee for Thomas as he’s slowly helped up by his teammates and the team trainers. They lead him to a golf cart where he sits, clutching at his left ankle. His helmet is still on, and you can’t see his face through his visor, but you know that he’s hurting beneath the mask as he hangs his head.

One of the defenders who tackled him has his helmet off now as he goes to apologize to Thomas. The guilt and regret is evident in his face that he caused something so detrimental to happen to a fellow athlete — because that’s all they are at the end of the day: athletes. They all play the same sport; ultimately, it doesn’t matter which team they play for. They’re all just doing what they love: playing football. And nobody deserves to have that be stripped away from them at the blink of an eye.

The forever silence is now broken as claps can be heard from everyone, showing sportsmanship and solidarity for Thomas and his injury as he’s driven off the field and towards the main building where the locker rooms are.

“Y/N…” Maria says softly next to you, and you finally notice that your hand has been placed over your mouth in shock for the past five minutes. “I’m so sorry.”

“I…” You start out, but your voice is wobbly. A single tear runs down your cheek and you wipe it away and sniffle as you try to stay strong. “What do I do?”

You have to stay strong for Thomas, but you feel helpless. You don’t know where to go, who to talk to. Are you allowed to go and see him in the locker room or do you wait until the game ends? Do you call his parents or will his coach take care of that? How bad is the injury? Is Thomas going to be okay?

You’re interrupted from your thoughts when the rest of the Panthers offense comes off the field. James stops when he reaches you.

“He needs you, Y/N.” He says, taking off his helmet. James looks just as worried as you feel. “It’s not looking good… and he’s gonna need someone to lean on. I know him, and with his parents gone in LA and the team still playing out the rest of the game… he shouldn’t be alone right now. He may act big and tough on the field in front of everyone, but you know how T is. He needs support.”

You nod slowly and sniffle before taking a deep breath. You look towards Maria and she nods at you, saying, “Go to him, Y/N.”

“Okay.” You whisper, looking between the two of them. “Okay.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Your mind races as you wait outside the trainer’s room where Thomas is getting treated by the team doctor. On your way inside, you went to the locker room to retrieve Thomas’ backpack per the request of one of the trainers standing in the hallway outside the medical room.

Despite it feeling like hours, it isn’t long before the team physician comes out of the room, causing you to perk up as you lean against the wall. The doctor whispers to the trainer and you pick up snippets of their conversation from your position next to the door.

“...has to go to the hospital for an x-ray… lots of swelling… unclear whether it’s fractured or a ruptured achilles.”

After they finish speaking, you ask if you can go in. They nod, and the doctor tells you that Thomas is being unresponsive to any questions that are being asked of him. The doctor asks you to break the news of a hospital visit being necessary tonight, and just like that you feel like you have a huge weight on your shoulders. But you don’t care because right now, you just want to see Thomas and make sure that he’s okay, so you just nod before you enter the room quickly with Thomas’ bag in your hands.

When you enter, you see Thomas on an exam table in a corner of the room. He’s just sitting there, both of his legs hanging off the table, his newly injured ankle out of his cleat and wrapped in ice to reduce the swelling. He still has his shoulder pads on and grass stains are evident on his dark uniform. He doesn’t notice you come in because his head is buried in his gloved hands.

You set his bag down, next to the door entrance and carefully make your way towards him. As you get closer, you can see his shoulders rise and fall with each shaky breath he takes. Gently, you place a hand on his arm, causing him to jump slightly.

“Hey, T. It’s okay, baby, it’s just me.” You say softly, tilting your head a little bit to make eye contact with him through his fingers. Slowly, he drops both of his hands to his lap, revealing his face to you. He looks like a ghost of his normal confident, cheery self. There are bags under his red eyes and you can tell that he is utterly exhausted.

But still, at the sight of you, Thomas’ lips twinge up into a sad smile (he doesn’t hide his distress as well as he thinks) as he reaches out to graze his fingers against your cheek.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He says, half-heartedly. He’s happy to see you, he really is, but his tone is dampened by the pain he is feeling. “What’re you doin’ in here? You should be out cheerin’ and havin’ fun with everyone else.” His voice is quiet, and you wonder if it’s because he’s afraid it will break if he speaks any louder.

“T, if you think I come to these games to hang with the rest of the team, you’re wrong. I come for you because I… I wanna support you.” You say earnestly, searching both of his eyes with yours.

At your words, he sends you a half-smile that turns into a grimace when his ankle throbs again. Thomas pats the space next to him, signaling for you to sit. You do, and immediately you notice his fidgeting and trembling hands that lay in his lap, still gloved from the game.

“Let’s get these off, yeah?” You say quietly, carefully reaching for his palms to place them in your lap. Your fingers gingerly undo the strap to each of his gloves and you peel them off his hands one by one before you place them neatly next to you.

When you’re done, Thomas’ right hand gently grabs one of yours and wordlessly laces your fingers together. He presses a warm kiss to the back of your hand as a silent thank you. Silence stretches between you two for a little while as you just sit there, your thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the back of his hand.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask softly. You’re sure he has a million thoughts running through his mind, but you’re not sure how much more of this he can take before it finally sinks in and hits him.

“It hurts...” He says, releasing a shaky breath. You squeeze his hand in reassurance, letting him know your support wordlessly. While he’s been quiet since you’d walked into the room, your question unintentionally prompts Thomas to start pouring out his thoughts at rapid speed.

“And… an— and I don’t know if it’s broken or not. Or if I’ll be able to play football this season, or ever again for that matter. I… I do think it’s broken, though. I’ve had sprains and they’ve never hurt like this.”

You can hear his breathing start to quicken as he continues to ramble.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do. What if this ends my career, Y/N? I can’t end my high school career like this. All my plans for the future: gone. What about scholarships? I wanted to be in the NFL like my dad. How am I supposed to get drafted by the Giants if I can’t— if I can’t play college ball?” He shakes his head at the mention of his father as his voice darkens slightly. “And speaking of my dad, why aren’t my parents here when I fucking need them? I fucking do everything for them and they can’t be here when I actually need them? They went to a charity event in LA instead of my last regular season game when they knew a scout would be watching tonight. Oh my god, the scout. What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay, T. Just breathe. You’re not alone in this.” You bring your other hand up to his cheek to turn his face towards you to make eye contact with him. You look at him firmly and tell him, “You’re going to be okay, babe. Let’s just take it one step at a time, one play at a time, just like Coach says, right?”

You vaguely remember Thomas telling you one night that Coach Washington lives by the ‘one play at a time’ code, which basically means taking things, in life and in football, one step at a time.

Fortunately, you see Thomas visibly begin to calm down from your words. It’s heartbreaking to see him have a panic attack like this; all you want is for him to feel better, so you continue to talk, letting your voice soothe him.

“Let’s just stay positive and focus on the next step right now, babe. And right now, that next step is getting you to a hospital so that we can get that ankle x-rayed. Okay? We can do that, right?”

Thomas takes in deep breaths, his breathing slowly turning back to normal. After searching your eyes, he exhales heavily and drops his head before he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Yeah, we can do that.” He murmurs, so soft you can barely hear it. He starts to shake his head before he speaks again. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I don’t want you seein’ me like this. I’m a fucking mess. And I know this isn’t how we planned today would go.”

“T, you’re allowed to have emotions. I don’t care if you’re a mess, I want to know that you’re okay. I’m your girlfriend. I’m here for you always. Not just when you win games.”

Thomas licks his lips and nods before he looks at you; his gaze is full of gratefulness and admiration, but the sorrow is still clearly evident. His mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but hesitates and thinks better of it. Instead, he leans over to hug you closely against his side (as best as he can with his shoulder pads still on).

“Thank you, baby. You have no idea how much that means to me… how much you being here means to me.”

With the way Thomas has always treated you and the way he’s acting now, you feel like you do have an idea, though. He’s always shown you so much care and expressed how grateful he is through his actions every day. You know that you mean as much to him as he does to you… and that’s saying something.

You two stay like that for some time, but you know that you eventually have to pull away to follow the team physician’s orders and get him to the hospital. Slowly and gently, you pull back from his embrace and reach up to give Thomas a chaste kiss, it’s quick but reassuring at the same time.

“Okay, Tommy, let’s get these shoulder pads off you and get you to the hospital, yeah?”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Fractured.

That is the word that sticks out most amidst the countless thoughts that swirl around Thomas’ head.

The hospital visit was surprisingly quick — in and out, resulting in Thomas leaving with crutches and a magenta cast on his left ankle.

His parents had called while he was in the waiting room with you and Danté, his trainer from the team (some adult supervision had to be involved even though you and Thomas are 18). His father had told him that they’d be on the first flight out of LAX and back home first thing tomorrow morning. Both of his parents are worried about him (his mother is more vocal about it than his father) especially after Thomas called them back up to tell them the results of his x-rays.

While he had felt his anxiety ignite again and spread throughout his chest at the news of his fractured ankle, he’d stayed strong in front of his family, the doctor, his trainer, and you. He took the news like a champ on the outside, but on the inside, he kept feeling like he could barely keep it together.

That’s where he is now: sitting silently in the passenger seat of his Mustang, trying to keep his emotions in check as you drive him home from the hospital. It’s not the first time you’ve driven his car, and while he’d normally make a charming comment about you looking extremely attractive driving the Mustang, he stays quiet. The repetitions of the doctor’s words still ring in Thomas’ mind, hindering him from acting anything like his usual self… and he hates it. He hates the effect that one word has on him.

Fractured. Fractured. Fractured.

“As you can see, your fibula is fractured right here above the lateral malleolus. Luckily, the bone isn’t displaced, so we’re gonna treat this as a…”

After hearing the word he’s dreaded most, Thomas zones out and gets lost in thought as he mindlessly watches the doctor point to various areas on the x-ray.

“...don’t think surgery will be necessary; however, we do believe a cast is imperative. This does mean that there will be no physical activity, of any sort, for at least six to eight weeks. Do I make myself clear?”

Thomas doesn’t respond, staring blankly at the man in the white coat in front of him.

“Did you hear what I said, Mr. Jefferson?” The doctor asks more sternly, and Thomas snaps out of it. He stares up at the physician, his eyes more alert.

“Yeah, Doc.” He says halfheartedly. He sounds so drained of energy, so unlike his usual self. “Loud and clear.”

Everything the doctor had told him at the hospital hadn’t exactly been a surprise; in fact, it’s exactly what Thomas had predicted. His ankle is broken and he won’t be able to play football for six to eight weeks… and that terrifies him.

His high school football career is officially over… and he won’t get to finish out the playoff season with his teammates.

The silence in the car stretches on and when you get to the familiar road that leads to Thomas’ house, you sneak a glance over at him. He’s staring out the window and you are aware of the fact that he hasn’t spoken since he was released from the hospital. You can only imagine the whirlwind of thoughts going through his mind right now and your heart once again breaks for him.

You take your right hand off the steering wheel to gently lace your fingers with his, giving him a comforting squeeze to signify your reassurance. He squeezes back weakly, giving you a good indication at where he is mentally. You don’t want to poke or prod him, so you allow the silence to linger in the space between you two until you finally reach his home.

Once you pull into his garage and close it behind you, you go to release Thomas’ hand and get out of the car, but he tightens his hold on your fingers, preventing you from going anywhere.

“T, babe, you gotta let me go so I can grab your stuff.” You say gently, letting the driver's side door fall shut after having already opened it. He’s still blankly staring out the side window when you turn to him. Thomas reluctantly lets go of your hand and you take that as an okay for you to get out.

You walk over to the passenger's side of the car to grab his crutches out of the back seat. With his crutches in your grasp, you go to open his door. He quickly wipes at his left eye before he slowly turns his body and swings his legs so that he faces your direction. His magenta wrapped ankle rests carefully against the concrete floor of the garage. Thomas eventually looks up at you, revealing his red eyes and tear-filled gaze.

“Hey…” You murmur, jumping to quickly take action, seeing Thomas clearly in a state of distress. You lean the crutches against the side of the Mustang before you move to caress his cheek.

Thomas just looks down and wipes at his eyes before clearing his throat. “I’m fine.” He croaks, his voice breaking and wavering as he sucks in a shaky deep breath.

He moves to stand up, but your hands go to press down firmly on his shoulders. Thomas doesn’t seem to protest or resist against your touch as he stays seated with his feet still planted on the concrete. You shake your head at him as you try to catch his teary gaze.

“You’re clearly not fine, T.” You voice softly as you step into the open space between his legs. You bring your hands up to hold his face gently. “Look, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but please, Tommy, don’t…” You pause, searching for the right words, “don’t hold it all in. You don’t need to be a big tough guy in front of me. I know you.”

A single tear rolls down his cheek as his resolve starts to slowly break. You tenderly wipe it away with your thumb as you gaze into his watering eyes.

“It’s okay to cry, babe.”

And then, the last of his walls come tumbling down. Thomas lets his tears fall freely now as his face contorts into a sob. Your eyebrows furrow in concern as his composure crumples. You pull him to you as he ducks his head to bury his face in the material of your sweater.

It’s the first time you’ve seen Thomas cry and all you want to do is be there for him and comfort him to make him feel better — to make all his pain disappear.

You just stand there, one hand holding his head to you and the other rubbing comforting circles on his back to soothe him. You can feel his body shake with each sob as you try your best to console him and work him through it, occasionally murmuring reassuring words to him.

It pains you to see him like this. All you can do is embrace him and let the torrent of his tears soak through your sweater. You could feel him clutch at the fabric from the back of your sweater as he hugs you tightly to him, like he’s grasping at the only thing — the only person — keeping him above water at the moment. He holds onto you because you’re the one saving him from sinking into the depths of his negative thoughts and anxiety.

Thomas clenches his fists again and again, not knowing whether to be angry (at his parents, at the guy who tackled him, at himself) or to give up all hope. You can hear his irregular breathing as he whimpers against you. Gently, you run your hand over his curls, time and time again, in an attempt to calm the silent war within his mind.

You stay like that for a while, soothing him as he lets out all of his pent up emotions. Over time, he gradually calms down, his breathing slowly returning back to a normal rhythm. Only the sounds of your and Thomas’ breathing can be heard as a tranquil quiet blankets the room.

Eventually, Thomas finally pulls back from you, eyes closed and he takes in a deep breath. It’s still slightly shaky, but he’s much better than the state he was in before.

You use your sleeve to gingerly wipe up the leftover tears that had wet his face. When you're done, both of your hands cup his cheeks as his eyes flutter back open. You send him a soft smile when you catch his gaze.

“There he is.” You whisper, letting your thumbs lightly caress his skin. “Hi, babe.”

He purses his lips before he responds, noticing the huge wet stain on the front of your sweater. “Shit, sweetheart. Sorry for fucking up your shirt.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, T. Just means that I can steal another one of your hoodies.”

That causes Thomas to crack a watery grin, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in hours. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long because his expression returns to a serious one in a matter of just a few seconds.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He murmurs before sniffing; his gratefulness is evident in his gaze, but it’s accompanied by a hint of fatigue as well. “Really. Thank you so much, baby. For being here. Supporting me. I… I needed that.”

“Of course, I’m here, T. I’ll always be here, okay?” You say, watching him slowly nod. After a few moments you speak again. “How’re you feeling? Better?”

He shrugs, looking up at you tiredly. “A little. I still feel like shit, but at least I don’t feel like I’m about to explode.”

“Yeah, please don’t hold your feelings in like that, anymore. I really don’t wanna see my boyfriend explode because he’s ‘too manly to cry.’” You drop your hands from his face to form air quotes on the tail end of your sentence.

“Noted.” He breathes out a small laugh. Warmth blossoms in your chest as you watch him slowly turn back into his normal self. “Also, I feel gross and I’m in desperate need of a shower, so that’s not helping my mood right now, either.”

You grin at him. “Well, that can definitely be arranged once we get you outta this car.”

The small smile returns on Thomas’ face as you open the car door a little further, so that it’s open as wide as it can go. “That’s usually my job.” He says, causing you to raise an eyebrow as you grab ahold of his crutches once again.

“What?” You ask, watching Thomas rise as he slowly gets out of his car.

He grunts as he balances on his right foot and you hand him his crutches. When he situates himself and regains balance, he responds, nodding at the car door. “You opened the door for me earlier. That’s supposed to be my job, princess.”

You grin and roll your eyes, shutting the car door behind him as he moves forward towards the door to his house. “Yeah, well now it’s my turn to return the favor and treat you like a prince… especially given the current situation.”

You grab his backpack from the trunk of the Mustang as Thomas throws the door to his home open.

“Oh, you already do, darling.” He says over his shoulder before you follow him in.

When you get inside the house, you leave his bag by the door at Thomas’ request and drop his keys on the counter in the kitchen. Before Thomas goes to shower, he joins you in the kitchen and heats up (he insists on being the one to do it because he’s ‘not completely helpless’) some leftover macaroni in the microwave for you both as a late dinner. He’s starving after having played a game and gone through as much emotional and physical trauma as he did.

Halfway through your meal, you feel your phone vibrate repeatedly in your pocket. You realize you’ve forgotten about it for hours, having been worrying constantly about your boyfriend’s mental and physical health. You dig your phone out of your jeans to see your brother Erik calling you.

You glance over at Thomas who is nose deep in his dinner before you accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, finally, Jesus. Where are you? Why weren’t you responding to my texts?”

“I’ve been busy, tonight’s been a crazy night, okay?” You glance over at Thomas who’s now looking up at you from his food with an eyebrow raised. You mouth ‘Erik’ and he nods, returning to eat. “Thomas got injured at the game today. It was bad. Had to drive him to the hospital and everything.”

“Shit, man.” Erik says on the other line, sounding worried. He and Thomas had surprisingly gotten along well with each other since you two started dating. They play Madden with each other occasionally when Erik’s back in town, so you know they’ve created some sort of friendship/brotherly bond. “Are you still there? At the hospital?”

“No, we’re at his place now. Just got here. Eating dinner.” You say before you glance at Thomas who’s staring down at his food now. There’s no way you’re leaving him alone here overnight. “Listen, E, can you please do me a huge favor and cover for me? Just tell Mom and Dad I’m staying at Maria’s for the night. I can’t just leave T alone in an empty house when he just broke his ankle.”

“Broken ankle — Jesus, that’s rough.” Erik is quick to respond. “But, yeah, sis, I got you. You’ve covered for me plenty of times.”

You let out a sigh of relief, happy that you’ll have your parents off your back now. “Thanks, Erik.”

“So, how’s Thomas taking the news? Is he good to talk?”

You pull the phone away from your ear to ask Thomas if he wants to speak to your brother on the phone. You say Erik’s worried about him and he nods. You hand the phone to him and watch him as he holds it up to his ear.

“Yo, what’s up, E?” Thomas greets; his voice sounds tired, but he sounds more like himself now. “I’ve been better. Hanging in there, I guess.”

You continue to eat the rest of your dinner as Thomas and Erik talk.

“Yeah, fractured actually. Doc said a bunch of scientific stuff, but I wasn’t really listening. I just know that I can’t finish out the season.” Thomas is quiet, staring down at the kitchen counter until he chuckles at something Erik says. “Yeah, there’ll always be Madden, bro. Just bummed because I wanna be on the cover one day and I can’t do that when I’m injured and at risk of losing scholarship opportunities.”

He listens to Erik’s words before he looks over at you, a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I know. She’s been with me all night since it happened. Honestly, I don’t know what’d I’d be doing right now without her. You’re sister’s a real one, bro. Y/N’s a life saver.”

You smile at him sweetly as he watches you with a soft glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, no, you won’t have to worry about that, trust me.” He breathes out a short laugh. “Alright, bro, I’ll catch you later.” He’s quiet for a few seconds as Erik responds. “I will. You, too. Alright, bye.”

Thomas hangs up and hands the phone back to you.

“You guys good?” You ask, putting your phone back in your pocket.

Thomas nods, finishing up the last of his dinner. “We’re good. Erik’s a good dude.”

“You sure, bro?” You tease, a grin tugging at your lips. “Why do you say ‘bro’ every other sentence when you’re talking to my bro, bro?”

By now, you know that Thomas code switches when he talks to his friends versus when he’s with you, but you can’t help but try to cheer him up by poking fun at him.

“Leave me alone, bro. That’s just the way I talk to all the bros, you wouldn’t understand.” He rolls eyes, a hint of a grin showing up on his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. You pick up your and Thomas’ plates and walk them over to the sink. “Just messin’ around, T. Givin’ you a hard time.”

“Yeah, bro, give the injured guy a hard time, because that’s a good idea.” Thomas deadpans. As put off as Thomas tries to act, he can’t stay pretend mad at you for long. After all, your attempt at lifting his mood and pushing him back towards his normal self is working.

“Okay, alright, lesson learned. Don’t make me feel guilty.” You voice before you walk back over to Thomas, chuckling in the process. “And stop calling me ‘bro.’ I like ‘sweetheart’ more.”

You send him a smile before you give him a quick peck on the lips.

“Alright. Noted, sweetheart.” Thomas murmurs with a lazy grin when you pull back.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Thomas doesn’t shower without making an offhand joke about you joining him. This time, he blames it on the fact that he’s ‘damaged goods’ and needs help undressing and that you’re really talented at that.

And although you roll your eyes and shove a trash bag at him so that he can cover his cast, you’re genuinely happy to see him bantering with you and joking around like he does normally. You know this injury is going to impact him immensely in the long run, both physically and mentally, but seeing him smile and joke around after pouring his heart out to you earlier in the garage really makes you extremely proud that he is holding his head high.

When you make sure that Thomas is all set to shower, you tell him to yell if he is actually in genuine need of your help. He says that he’ll be fine.

You make your way back to his room and get yourself comfortable. Although the tear stains on your sweater are now dry, you still go to Thomas’ closet to pick out one of his hoodies to sleep in. You also slip on some pajama shorts you’d left there from the last time you stayed over. It’s not your first time spending the night at Thomas’; the night of homecoming was… a lot of fun to say the least. And Thomas makes it a habit to sneak you into his room almost weekly, so you’ve resorted to leaving an extra change of clothes in his room just in case.

Finally comfortable in your new change of clothes, you fall back onto Thomas’ bed with a tired sigh before you grab your phone to check your messages. You see that you have a bunch of unread texts from Erik, Maria, and James.

Dismissing the texts from Erik because you just talked to him on the phone, you open the texts from James. He tells you that the Panthers won the game and that he and the rest of the team are worried about T. He also asks how Thomas is doing because he’s not answering his texts.

You respond, telling him about the fracture and that Thomas is taking it hard, but he’s staying strong and doing better now.

Then, you open the texts from Maria.

Maria (8:35pm): Hey, hope T’s doing okay

Maria (8:36pm): Hope YOU’RE okay too

Maria (9:07pm): Game’s over. Gonna go do the thing we talked about bc I made a promise, wish me luck

Y/N (11:13pm): hey, sorry M. haven’t really been checking my phone all night. T’s okay. broken ankle and he’s really bummed, but he’ll be okay. i’m doing okay too. being with T and seeing that he’s gonna be ok makes me worry a bit less

Y/N (11:13pm): but how’d the thing go?? please tell me it went well. u and ellie would b so cute together

Maria (11:15pm): No worries luv. Glad you and thomas are alright. Whole team was pretty shaken on the sideline after yall left. it was mad quiet even tho we were winning. And ellie was worried too.

Maria (11:16pm): Speaking of… the thing went well and I have a girlfriend now. Her name is ellie.

Y/N (11:16pm): omg congrats! beyond happy for u guys.

Y/N (11:16pm): T’s gonna be happy af lol when he finds out

Maria (11:18pm): Yeah now he can leave me tf alone about it every time he sees me

Y/N (11:19pm): lmao he was just tired of seeing yall circle around each other even tho u clearly had feelings for each other. i was too tbh

Y/N (11:19pm): but glad you guys are official now. you guys are ADORABLE together. i want all the details next time i see you, k?

Maria (11:20pm): I’ll give ALL the details on Monday lol. Promise.

Y/N (11:20pm): can’t wait

You grin at your phone, genuinely happy for Maria and Ellie. Then, you hear the bathroom door open and Thomas’ crutches sound from down the hall, each sound getting louder as he nears the bedroom.

When Thomas gets to the doorway, you sit up, directing your gaze to him. “I’m guessing you didn’t need help showering after all?” You ask, giving him a once over. He’s wearing shorts and no shirt. Some water droplets still linger on the muscles of his biceps and toned torso, like he was lazy to fully dry himself with his towel.

“Guess not.” He says with a shrug, making his way over to the bed. He sits down on his side, making himself comfortable by laying down, sighing in content as he does so. “Would have definitely been more entertaining had you joined, though.”

“I’m sure it would have.” You muse with a grin, sitting up crossing your feet under you. You decide to tell Thomas the news Maria texted you. “So, Maria and Ellie are dating now.”

Thomas smiles as he laces his fingers behind his head as he relaxes back on his pillow. “Yeah? ‘Bout time.”

“Yep. Also, James texted me. He said that y’all won the game and that he and the team wish you well. He wants you to text him back.”

“Eh, I’ll text him back tomorrow morning. I’m too exhausted right now.” He says, closing his eyes for a second. “But thanks for relaying the message, baby. Glad we won.”

You nod at him before moving off the bed to close his door and turn off the lights. When you get back in bed, Thomas speaks again.

“You know? On the phone, Erik said ‘no funny business,’ but honestly? Not like we haven’t done anythin’ in this bed already…”

Your jaw drops at his suggestive words and although they’re true, you push his shoulder lightly anyway. “Thomas!”

He chuckles softly, looking at you as you slip under the blankets with him. “It’s the truth.”

“I know but doesn’t mean you should say it like that.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. You can tell he’s still hurting deep inside. Thomas being alone with his thoughts in the shower must have gotten to him. You shift closer to him and he rests his head on your chest as you gently thread your fingers into his hair to massage his scalp.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly as you feel him rise and fall with every breath.

It’s an honest question that you’ve been wanting to know the answer to all night. His breathing is even and calm as he ponders his next words.

“You want the truth?” Thomas asks after a minute of silence.

“Always, T.”

Thomas wedges his arms under you to wrap them around your torso. He’s quiet for a few more seconds until he speaks again, his voice small.

“I’m scared, baby.”

You think about your next words carefully before you speak. “I think that’s normal, T. It’s okay to be scared.”

“Do you know how many careers end after an injury like mine?” He asks quietly, the vibrations of his voice reverberating on your chest. “I mean, I know the doc said I’d be better in six to eight weeks, but… who knows if I’ll be the same player? If I’ll be good enough again.”

“You will be.”

“What about college offers? What if no team wants me because of this fracture? Then, I won’t be able to market myself enough to go pro like my dad and I... I don’t think I could live with that, Y/N.”

“Hey, remember what I said in the locker room? One step at a time, baby. The NFL is a long way in the future, okay? Right now? Focus on healing yourself. Offers will come, but give them time. It’s still the beginning of the school year; you have time. You’re gonna get through this and you’re gonna be playing football again in no time. It’s probably gonna be a little difficult, but I know you can do it.”

You pull back to hold his face gently and look into his eyes which hold confliction within them once more. You can see the fear in them, the worry, and the flurry of emotions that he’s going through every second.

“You know why, T?” When Thomas shakes his head slightly, you continue. “Because you are Thomas Jefferson: the strongest guy I know. And I know that you won’t let anything get in the way of you achieving your goals.”

Silence stretches in the air for a few moments as your words sink in.

“And, T?” You start again before you give him a gaze that lets him know that you are absolutely sure of the next words you’re about to say. “Just know that I’ll be proud of you no matter what. I’m already proud of you and the person you are.”

He purses his lips, holding himself together as he closes his eyes and leans forward to press his forehead to yours tenderly. His grip around your waist shakes slightly as he holds you tightly to him, as if he’s afraid you’ll let go.

Thomas cherishes moments like these with you — the fleeting moments where being with you gives him a sense of calm and peace. It’s night and day compared to the chaos he has to endure during practices and games with yelling coaches, teammates, and fans.

He loves football, though — he truly does. It’s been a constant in his life since the day he was brought into the world. Football has always been like his third parent; it’s taught him discipline, perseverance, and the importance of teamwork/family. Most of his crowning achievements thus far have been attributed to football and it’s something that he wants to stay in his life for the long-term future. Despite the fact that the sport has put him through more physical and mental pain than anything else, he’s still found a place for it in his heart.

But with you… with you Thomas has come to discover a different type of love. One that’s unconditional, unbreaking, and unforgiving. It’s the type of love that has him watching you with admiration at the most random moments. A certain kind of love that has him leaving home earlier in the mornings to pick you up from your house on his way to school just so he can spend a few extra minutes with you. It’s a love where he has completely, willingly given you his heart to do with as you please without him even really noticing.

So when you show Thomas your unconditional support by telling him that you believe in him, he cherishes that more than he would any compliment from a coach or recruiter.

As he sits here, with your hands in his hair and his forehead pressed against yours, feeling the warmest and most comfort he’s ever felt (despite the fact that he’s injured) — three little words pop up in his mind for what seems like the millionth time today amidst all the bad things he went through.

Not wanting to succumb to the stereotypes of teenage relationships where those three little words are thrown around like nothing, you and Thomas had elected early in your relationship that neither of you would say it until one is absolutely sure of it. Right now, Thomas has never been more sure of anything in his life. That’s when those three little words finally make their way to the tip of his tongue. And before he knows it, those words come tumbling out as a soft, breathless whisper.

“I love you.” He says, his eyes fluttering open so that he can firmly hold your gaze to let you know that he genuinely means it.

Thomas brings his slightly shaking hands up to gently press them against your cheeks so he can hold your face. He pulls back slightly and his eyes search yours. His voice is the most confident it’s been all night, but he doesn’t let it get louder than a murmur. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything, actually. I just want you to know that—”

“I love you, too, Thomas.” You whisper, cutting him off. “If it wasn’t obvious from my little speech before.”

Your words cause both you and Thomas to breathe out a quiet laugh as you hold one another. After a few moments, he leans in to press his warm lips to yours in a soft kiss.

When he pulls away, he hugs you close to him and the sound of each of your deep breaths soothe each other as you both edge closer towards sleep. This is the most tranquil Thomas has felt in a long time and he embraces the feeling fully. He doesn’t think about anything else for once. Just you and your presence and the sound of your even breathing.

It’s not long before both of you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

#Thomas Jefferson x Reader #thomas jefferson imagine #daveed x reader #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs imagine #jefferson x reader #tjeffs x reader #hamilton x reader #hamilton imagine #hamilton fanfiction #high school au #football player au #wideout #injury tw #anxiety tw

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pffbts · 4 years

Note

I do not want to bother you, but you said you have no request for jin, which breaks my jin heart so hear you are (if you want to do it): Looking for a new appartment with him ❤️

―GENRE: fluff ; comfort; angst (if you squint)

―CHARACTERS: childhood friend!kim seokjin x female!reader | no supporting character.

―W.C: 3.2K

―AUTHOR`S NOTE: extremely sorry if this is too late but i absolutely loved this request. it feels domestic & i`ve a weakness for domestic jin plus his natural hair coloured mullet. i hope you like this, bub <3 love u & thank u for requesting such a lovely request <3

[02:28 PM] [warmth will come when you never expect it]

―you felt the coolness spreading through your right cheek and along with it the few cold icy water droplets falling one by one on your denim jacket. you opened your eyes slowly against the hot wind that was flowing through the open bus today. as you turn your head to your right, the cup of cool coke brushes against your face, the straw obscuring a bit of your sight, and the cold surface freezing up your lips.

you find your best friend, jin turning his head at the same time to look at you.

“you looked like you were in discomfort so i was trying to cool down your skin.” he said, looking a bit concerned as your eyes remained kind of droopy.

“why do you look so good even in this weather?” you asked listlessly.

“maybe because you put down my offer to sit at the window seat?” he said back, sounding so obvious.

meanwhile, jin has put down the cup of coke and pushed the cold drink into your hand. “drink it, it will help you a bit.”

“it`s too hot, i shouldn`t have worn this jacket.”

“you could`ve worn that cami you brought last weekend.” jin, tried describing the sleeves of the dress by putting both of his hand over his shoulders, “you know the one with the thin strings?”

“ah it wouldn`t be a proper dress to wear for apartment hunting, you know?”

“why? i`m sure you looked good in it.”

“that`s too much skin. plus the dress is of thin material. we`ll be meeting random people today and i don`t want anyone to give me looks. i already get enough because of your handsome face,” you took one glance at jin who was looking at your hands holding the cold plastic cup and eventually making it go warmer, a small smile climbing onto his mouth, “plus with that mullet, you look extra good. i swear i saw some girls going gaga over it while we were getting on the bus at the bus stop.”

jin put a stop to your rambling, understanding how the hot weather is getting on your skin. he took the drink from your grip and gently pushed the straw into your mouth. “this is getting warm, drink up.”

you mumbled back an incoherent speech which wasn`t clearly understandable to jin but it was none of his concern right now. he was already getting up from his seat to look out from the window to see if you guys are at your destination already or not.

you thought he was probably getting up because you were at the destination already and so you reached your right arm towards him and held the end of his flannel (tmi: it was deep blue with think green stripes as checkered print) while still holding the cup in one hand, the straw in your mouth all along.

jin looks back, shaking his head silently letting you know that he`s not getting up to leave but just to check if you guys are at the destination yet or not. he took his hand off of the metal rod for support and extended his arm behind and held your right-hand wrist―a small sign of reassurance and warmth, you understood.

in a few seconds, he dipped his head down to see that the shop the landlord said about is right on the other side of the street. thankfully there was a bus stop on this side of the street so the bus stopped & jin pulled you by arms to get up. you moved quickly and followed him down the bus.

the coke which is half-finished now is now being pushed towards jin, who looks down at you, confused.

“drink it too. i would feel bad if you don`t have a sip.”

“just a sip?”

“okay maybe a little bit more than that.” you gave in.

“okay but hold it for me a bit, we`ve to cross the street now,” he points at the shop on the opposite side of the street which the landlord talked about, “that`s where mr. lee will meet us, i think.” you nodded and wrapped your left arm around his right one while crossing the street.

the street was kind of busy today and maybe that`s why jin was kinda concerned with you even though he knows you`re accustomed to the city by now.

when you finally crossed the street and stood in front of the shop, you let go of his arm. jin, as decided beforehand, takes the coke from your hand and sips in some of the now lesser cold drink. you felt kinda bad because initially, he bought it for himself, he couldn`t drink it much.

“i`ll buy you one tomorrow when we go back from uni,” you told him. jin closed his eyes for a second and shook his head, pulling the straw out of his mouth, “it`s okay, eventually, you needed this more than me, so it`s absolutely okay.”

you could only smile at your best friend.

when the landlord eventually came, jin decided to interrogate on behalf of both of you. strangely the first question the landlord had for you guys was, “are you guys a couple? engaged?”

you both looked at each other perplexed because all your school days and now college days, you guys have always heard people saying the same thing. do you guys really look like you could pass as couples? even at the extent of an engaged couple?

during school days, your classmates would never approach jin even though he was technically the most sort after guy in the whole grade. for some weird reason, they thought jin would never look at any other girl than you―be it asking for a spare pen from the distance of five desks or being the first option for a group project. it has always been you and jin. even at college, though jin took acting major & you took physics as your major because both of you arrived and left college at the same time and with each other, even the campus people knew you both came in two in one package. one wouldn`t leave the campus without each other.

strangely, there hasn`t been any sort of romantic action in-between the two of you. both of you have been quite chill with each other. both of your mothers have been friends since your and jin`s elementary days so get together for dinners and lunch has always been quite common. though it has definitely crossed your mind how your friend started looking more than just a friend. it eventually started since he started growing out his hair to the current mullet state. his tall stature, his beautiful face, his way of knowing every bit of household works while your lazy self just never left your room during exam seasons.

but the thoughts remained like flickering thoughts just passing by for some seconds when you look at him some days. it has never crossed your mind that you can possibly be romantically linked up with him. at this point, even with all this hand-holding and taking care of each other, showing concerns when one of you is in discomfort. for you two, this has always been like a natural thing in your relationship―like how humans react in the world where only you and jin exist.

actually, it was kind of good that people thought of you both as a perfect pair because jin has always been the perfect man for any human out there, especially for someone as studyholic or as allergic to household work as you.

“do we really look like that, sir?” jin asked now facing him.

the man shrugged his shoulders in reflex, “i don’t know even from far away i thought you two are some couple. actually, you both don`t even look like a new couple―”

jin put his palm up in front of the landlord and laughed, “sir stop right there, we`re simply very close-knitted friends. we`ve been best friends since our elementary days, i guess the closeness of ours rubbed in a wrong way for you.” jin bowed a bit.

you bowed too as in reflex to which the landlord kind of laughed, “okay yeah i understand. now let`s get with our business, okay?”

you both nodded as usual in unison. seriously, it`s like at this point you both aren’t even doing this on purpose, it`s like a simple reflex. it`s like you two are one body, one heart, one brain―but divide that brain into two halves in which one side is filled physics derivations while the other how an actor should act varying emotions bit by bit.

the landlord stared at you two for another second, let out a nice big laugh this time and started walking before you with his back facing you two.

“what do you think of this one? it has two spacious rooms enough for two young people, plus a small kitchen at a good spot.”

“the kitchen does look quite small but thankfully it`s not located at an uncomfortable place.” jin remarked this because the other two previously painfully close to one of the room & he knew that would be a problem if you stay in that room because there was a high chance if you both have chosen that apartment, you would`ve taken that room close by the kitchen with the biggest window. apparently, your love for windows is quite big and that`s not unknown to jin, at least.

“yes, i like it quite much. let`s see the rooms once again, can we?” jin asked. the landlord nodded and took both of you in again. both of you scanned the rooms again, this time quite carefully. after all, you both are going to stay here for two years until both of you graduate.

“i like this one,” you nudged jin with your elbow on your left, “what do you think?”

“i like it too. which room do you like though? that room has a good window i think?” he looked at you asking the most concerning question, “i think the window in this room is smaller than that one. you should definitely take that one.”

“yeah that looks cool, i guess.” you agreed with him giving him a satisfying nod.

as soon as he saw that you`ve agreed on with him, he turned away from you to confirm with the landlord that you guys will be taking this one for two years. the landlord said you both have to go with him to his office to sign the lease.

both of you agreed to go with him. it was a short walk from the current apartment and when you two finally signed the lease, paid the needed deposit to him in check and all, it was decided that by next week you guys will move in. the landlord marked his calendar and said he`ll look into it.

bidding goodbyes, both of you stepped out of the office and started walking to the bus stop at which you got down previously.

“our campus will be a little bit far from here. probably going to take half-an-hour but the locality is good. there`s a supermarket right across the street, plus a bus stop, what do you think?” jin asked, casually putting his left arm on your shoulder, eventually pulling you against him a bit.

you realized that the streets are getting busier and so when jin closed the distance between you two, it was from the thought that you might get separated from him in the increasing crowed.

“i like it. the distance won`t be a problem. our school was one hour from our neighbourhood, remember?”

“right. i think we`ll settle well here.”

you hummed back in agreement.

“by the way! why do people still think we look like a couple? even strangers we meet say the same thing?”

“i don`t know, maybe because we do look like one?”

“you should definitely get a girlfriend. people will start assuming weird things when we start living together.”

you felt jin stiffen a bit at the mention of getting a girlfriend. it`s been kind of an off-topic for you two but these days you`ve been dropping this topic left and right on him.

“it still won`t change the fact that we`ll still be living together.”

“but―”

“and what? even if i get a girlfriend like you said, she won`t live with us.” jin`s hand dropped around your waist, he held you this time quite protectively. his arms looked strong around your waist, you could feel his abs muscles moving against your right arm. “at the end and the beginning of each day from the next week, it`s going to be us only in that apartment.”

“you can bring your girlfriend over anytime you want. i won`t have any problem with that.”

“what if i don`t want to?”

you both have reached the bus stop, currently standing and waiting for the bus. you snapped your head up at his towering height. jin wasn`t looking at you this time.

“what do you mean?” you asked, your voice held no assurance.

“i said i don`t want to get a girlfriend, forget bringing that said girlfriend into our apartment. it`s absolutely not needed,” jin now looked down at you who was about to say something, “and you must know at this point i don`t want anyone apart from you.”

“huh? jin?” your head now empty except for his last words.

i don`t want anyone apart from you.

what exactly did he mean by this sentence?

“i`m not getting a girlfriend. i don`t need anyone.”

“but you sound like you and me are..” you couldn`t finish the sentence because when you looked up jin this time, he was looking at you directly. his eyes were set on you and you only. there was no flickering in his eyes. they were intense yet warm. for the first time in your life, you couldn`t look him in the eyes.

this is strange. this is definitely strange you said to yourself.

“we`re what?” jin asked.

“i don’t know. you said to the landlord that we`re only best friend and that we`re this familiar with each other because we know each other for a long time but you`re talking like you were lying back there.”

“and what if i was?”

“jin!” you exclaimed, squeezing your eyes shut in sudden embarrassment. what is this guy doing? you thought, he sounds so ridiculous now does he even has the slightest idea of it?

“the bus is here, we`re going. come on, hold my hands.”

“no i`m not holding your hands.”

“but you always love holding them.”

“who told you that?”

“i don`t know but i guess we`ve spent enough years together, facing a lot of things together and i think we`ve always held hands no matter what.”

“but it`s because you`ve always been with me through those days. i never meant to do it on purpose.”

because the bus has already reached the stop. you guys gave your conversation a small break to get into the bus. after securing a seat, as usual, jin giving you the window seat, you guys went back to the talk.

“you never meant to do anything on purpose. and that`s why it makes it more special. that`s why i`m not getting a girlfriend. if things go well, i want to have a future with you, y/n.”

it isn`t a usual thing when jin starts calling you by your name and you know when he does say your name, it means, he`s extremely serious at that moment. but what made your head completely blank and your mouth drop was his wish to spend even the future with you.

“jin.” you completely turned your body to your left to face his side profile. when he noticed you have your undivided attention on him, he turned his face to his right giving back his own undivided attention on you.

“you must be kidding me. are you seriously confessing to me right now? you sound like you want to make me your wife or something after we`re graduate.”

“hey that actually sounds like a nice plan too.” he pulled his right hand out of his pocket and pointed at you.

you slapped his hand away laughing and rolling your eyes at the same time. “okay! i`ll see if your plan goes well.”

you turned around and put yourself in a relaxed way against the bus seat.

“oh by the way, i will forget to say. i want chicken noodles tonight. will you cook tonight?”

“i`ll bring it to your dorm.” jin continued, “like i said, anything for you.”

according to the rule in your college, first years had to stay in the dorms so that`s why both you and jin weren`t living together for this one year.

maybe this one year made jin think of you in a way he has never had. when he saw you on the first day at the entrance of the campus, he knew something felt different. you both weren`t just childhood friends from that day. no next-door neighbours who could simply wave at each other from individual windows. no classmates just a few desks away in one room. no same dinner table at your mothers` meetups. the time spent apart this one year, the lack of interactions gave jin chances to yearn for your presence and he felt like a new person every time he finally saw you before college. probably that`s why he couldn`t resist from saying what kind of days he looks forward to with you.

you looked away from him and moved closer to the window so that you can feel the much cooler air and not just think how jin for the first time in your life brought in a heat across your neck you almost couldn`t recognize, something which only existed in the books you read before tonight.

fin.

#jin imagines #jin drabbles #jin scenarios #jin fanfics #jin text posts #jin x reader #jin fluff #jin angst #bts fanfics #bts imagines #bts text posts #bts reactions #bts letters #bts scenarios #bts posts #bts #kim seokjin #pffbts #anon requested!

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440mxs-wife · 3 years

Text

The Hunter’s Princess - Chapter 6: Getting Complicated

Pairing: Dean x OFC Kira (eventual), Prince!Dean x OFC Lady Kira. Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Prince!Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, Gabriel, King!John, Queen!Mary, Lucifer and assorted minor characters.

Chapter 6 Word Count: 2800+

Warnings: Feelings. Otherwise, none really.

A/N: This is from some material that’s been rattling around in my head from another project that changed direction. Couldn’t let all this content go to waste, though, so here it is. It’s a work-in-progress, and I will try and update as regularly as I can. If you want to be tagged in this series, send me a message!

A/N2: I would like to thank everyone for your support and your comments so far. I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am having fun writing it.

Thank you and happy reading!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kira opened the door to her room in the castle and her bed was the most welcome sight she'd ever seen. She removed her leather gauntlets and her knee-high boots, then crawled under the covers. As the urge to sleep crept through her body, Kira's mind drifted back to her first meeting with Prince Samuel.

When she met him at the pub, he'd seemed a bit stand-offish, detached. Since the incident with Danielle, Prince Samuel's attitude towards her has appeared to have changed. He'd shown more of an interest in her, and she wasn't quite sure what to do about it yet.

All because there was....Prince Dean. Kira had felt the spark with him the moment he asked her for a beer in her pub in that deep, sexy voice of his. Of course, that was no surprise to Kira, given how she felt about the Dean she hopefully still had waiting for her at home.

The Dean Winchester she loved showed her the same playful, cocky attitude as the princely version, at least on the outside. But Kira knew her Dean had a softer side as well, like the one that knew all about her because he listened. How Kira liked her coffee, how thunderstorms sometimes scared her, her favorite flower. Knowing that he paid attention to those things about her made her feel seen, like she mattered to him.

Sometimes when she was alone with him, she'd turn just in time to see something in his face. A look that, if she didn't know any better, could easily be mistaken for fondness, adoration or even love? Why not? she asked herself. She definitely felt it for him, why was it so hard for her to believe that he would feel it for her?

Prince Dean also seemed to have found a way into her heart as well, going out of his way to spend time with her. For example, he offered to finish the marketplace tour Kira had started with Castiel. He introduced Danielle to his mother instead of brushing the child aside. He even asked the king to postpone the first event of the Princes' Challenge for a couple of days while Kira recuperated.

The situation was starting to get more than a little complicated. It was becoming clear to Kira that wherever or whenever a Winchester is involved, complications are bound to arise.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dressed comfortably in the sweatpants and sweatshirt she found in her room, Lady Kira wandered into the library. Sam was at one of the tables, making notes from the book he was reading, but Dean was nowhere to be seen.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Lady Kira approach him, so he rose from his seat and gave a quick bow. "Lady Kira, is everything all right?" he asked.

She chuckled a bit at his formality, and motioned for him to sit back down in his chair. "Please relax, Sam. You don't have to do that," she informed him.

"Okay, I'll try to remember. Are you settling in all right? Finding everything you need?" Sam inquired.

"Yes, everything is fine. The clothes I found fit perfectly, no surprise there. The tub was heavenly, especially with the lavender bath salts, thank you," Lady Kira remarked. "Although, I think the scent triggered a memory. It wasn't mine, but I think it was from the Kira that belongs in this timeline," she said.

"Really? What did you see?" Sam asked.

"People mostly. You, an older gentleman with a beard, two ladies, one with dark hair and one with blond hair. And something with just Dean and future-Kira," she replied tentatively. "It brought to mind a question. What exactly is the relationship between her and Dean?" she asked.

Sam took a deep breath and exhaled before answering. "The answer to that question is more complicated than explaining how she got sent there and you got sent here," Sam answered.

"Please, I need to know, Sam. Every time Dean looks at me, I see a flicker of sadness in his eyes. He looks at me, but he sees her. I can't imagine how much that hurts him," Lady Kira murmured.

"That would most assuredly cause our Kira concern, and she’d want to get to the bottom of it, if she were here," Sam grinned. "That's one of the many ways you are definitely alike, and that's in how much you care about others," he remarked. Sam went on to explain about how he and Dean grew up with Kira and had parents who hunted. Then he talked about how devastated Dean was when their dad made them leave town and Kira behind.

"Did Dean know then how much he loved her?" Lady Kira asked.

Sam shrugged. "I think Dean's known it for a long time. For him, though, knowing it and doing something about it are two different things. Actually, that goes for both of them, because she's loved him for as long as I can remember, but won't say anything to him," he remarked.

"Hmm. And they've been friends for so long, they think that if feelings are declared and something happens, there goes the friendship," Lady Kira surmised.

"Exactly. And let me tell you, it's extremely frustrating seeing two people you love going through so much pain for so long. Especially when it doesn’t have to be that way. Just because they're both too stubborn to accept that they deserve something good, or they're too afraid to take the risk," Sam replied.

She nodded in agreement. "I should tell you that there's a Sam, Dean and Castiel in my world as well. Not to inflate your ego, but you and Dean are the crown princes of the land," Lady Kira giggled. "And Castiel is your best friend as well as head of security for the royal family," she added.

"Huh. Crown princes? Really?" Sam gaped. "Well, I guess you could say that's how it should be," he teased.

"Ha ha Sam, very funny. Did you by chance find out when the next lunar eclipse is? The sooner it is, the sooner I can be restored to my native dimension," Lady Kira said.

"Next one is in five days, which why I'm researching like crazy to try and see what we need to make it happen," Sam responded.

Lady Kira picked up one of the books from the pile in front of Sam. "Five days? Then we haven't a moment to lose," she remarked.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Excuse me, Miss? Beggin' yer pardon, but it's time to rise," Sarah said as she nudged Kira's shoulder.

"Go away, Sarah, I just went to sleep. It can't possibly be time to get up," Kira grumbled.

"Please, Miss!" she urged. "It's time to get cleaned up and dressed for dinner! It would not look good to the king and queen if you were late," she added.

"All right, all right, Sarah. I'll get up," Kira promised. She maneuvered to a sitting position and swung her legs over the side so her feet touched the floor. Her head was pounding and it felt like the room was spinning. Kira suddenly felt a wave of nausea crash over her, so she grabbed the nearest receptacle and emptied the contents of her stomach.

Rowena came through the door in time to see Kira sitting on the side of her bed, shaking and holding her head. "Och, what's the matter, Kira dear? Not feeling well?" she asked.

"No, Rowena, I'm not. But, I need to make an appearance at dinner, because I don't want anyone to think there's anything wrong," Kira explained.

"You stay here and rest. Sarah will wait outside your door and make sure you're not disturbed. I shall send your regrets to the royal family. I will inform them that you will not be attending dinner, that you are under the weather. Not to worry, dear, I shall make sure to convey your deepest apologies," Rowena declared.

Kira didn't have the heart to disagree with Rowena, so she turned back around and got back under the blankets. "Thank you, Rowena," she mumbled as she fell back to sleep. Sarah took a chair out into the hallway to make sure Kira was not disturbed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sometime after midnight, Kira woke up feeling much better. She no longer felt nauseous and her headache had all but disappeared. Kira also couldn't get back to sleep, so she pulled her boots on again, then tiptoed to the door. She eased it open to see that Sarah had fallen asleep in her chair. Kira slipped past her on the way down the stairs.

The next event in the Princes' Challenge was an equestrian event, so Kira thought she'd wander down to visit the horses. Collins said the stables were at her disposal, and that she could stop by at any time.

Kira walked quietly among the horse stalls, carefully peeking in each one. Most of the horses were sleeping, but there were a few awake. Those not sleeping nuzzled her shoulder as she walked by. Kira chuckled lightly and lovingly patted each one on the head, making soothing noises. She made a mental note to bring some apples or sugar cubes with her the next time she decided to visit.

She walked to the last stall and there was a black Arabian stallion that she recognized at once. It was her faithful horse, Midnight. He seemed to recognize Kira as well, because he came right to the half-door and laid his head on her shoulder, just like he used to do.

"Hey, Midnight," Kira whispered. "It's so good to see you, boy. I can't believe you're here. It's been a long time, my friend," Kira said. She closed her eyes as she stroked down the front of his face, lost in memories of her Aunt Brenda's farm.

"Good evening, Lady Kira. I hope you're feeling better," a husky voice said, interrupting her thoughts. Kira gasped and her eyes flew open, but she wasn't startled enough to spook Midnight. Prince Dean. Her hand flew to her chest to calm her hammering heart.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized, holding up his hands. "I just wasn't expecting anyone to be around here this time of night," he explained. "We missed you at dinner. Well, I missed you at dinner," he remarked softly.

Kira could feel the blush rise in her cheeks as she gave a quick curtsy. "I'm sorry that I could not attend the evening meal, Your Highness. I think I got a bit overwhelmed after the competition," she explained.

"I recall thinking that you did not look well, surrounded by so many people," Prince Dean remarked.

"Afterwards, I went up to my room for some rest. I woke up to get dressed for dinner, but I had a massive headache. The room was also spinning, which I think caused me to get sick in the nearest wastecan. When Lady Rowena left for dinner, I crawled back into bed and fell asleep again. I should probably head back to my room," Kira replied.

As she walked past Prince Dean, he gently caught her hand. "Wait. Please don't go just yet. I've been having trouble sleeping these past few nights. Usually I find myself here, alone, but it would be nice to have some company," Prince Dean pleaded.

"As you wish, Your Highness," Kira responded.

"And how about we drop the titles, hmm? Tonight, right here and right now, just between us we're Dean and Kira, having a lovely chat, getting to know each other," he suggested.

"I can live with that, Your--Dean," she said with a giggle. They walked from the stables and wandered into the garden. They sat down to rest on the stone bench where Kira had first met Castiel.

"So, how do you know Midnight, or I should ask how does he know you? The reason I'm wondering, is because he's a recent acquisition. He didn't arrive here until after you did," Prince Dean asked.

Kira looked down at her hands in her lap. "It may be a simple question, but it's a rather complicated answer," she started, gazing into his vibrant green eyes. When he didn't say anything, she continued. "I am from a world where on your calendar it would be the year 2020. I first met Midnight on my Aunt Brenda's farm, where we used to go riding together all the time. I'm here because my mother's locket--" she held it up for him to see--"transported me here."

"It's a lovely locket. A family heirloom?" he asked.

Kira gaped at Dean's nonchalant reaction after she'd just told him she's from the future. "Um, yes, it is. It belonged to my mother, Ava. In my world, I am from a long line of hunters, including both of my parents. Werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, ghosts, ghouls, you name it, we hunt it," she explained. "This locket and its secrets have been passed down through generations from mother to daughter. Unfortunately, my mother was killed on a hunt before she could tell me anything about it," Kira finished, tears threatening.

Dean reached over and took her hands in his. "I'm so sorry, Kira," he murmured.

She gave Dean a watery smile in return before she continued. "My hunting partners are two brothers named--wait for it--Sam and Dean Winchester," she finished, lowering her gaze. Kira waited for him to either burst into laughter or call the guards to lock her up for being insane.

Prince Dean's index finger tilted Kira's head up so he could look into her eyes. "For the record, I don't think you're crazy. That night my brother and I walked into your pub? We had just finished taking out a vampire nest in another part of the Eastern province. Us being hunters is something we keep within the family. Collins and Castiel know, but we've known them so long, it's like they're family," he grinned.

Kira grinned as well. "Castiel is an important part of the family in my world as well, only he's an Angel of the Lord," she replied.

Prince Dean threw his head back and laughed at that. "Really? Oh, wait until I tell him that," he remarked. "So....do you have a husband in your world?" he asked.

"No, I'm not married. I'm the best of friends with Sam and Dean and have been since we were children, but....it's complicated as well. Even though they both mean the world to me, I have to admit that Dean has always had my heart. I just don't know how he feels about me, if he feels the same," Kira answered.

"Hmm. I can see what you mean by complicated," he began as he put a hand to her cheek. "But speaking for myself, the one in this dimension? I would consider myself the luckiest man in the world to call you my own. I would be sure to tell you every day what an amazing, kind, strong and beautiful woman you are," he declared.

Dean's eyes flitted up to Kira's hazel orbs down to her plump, pink lips. He slid his hand to Kira's neck, pulled her closer and moved to capture her mouth with his. At the last second, Kira turned her head and cast her eyes downward.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. Dean, I cannot deny how attracted to you I am, but you've only known me for a few days. Besides, there's still the matter of my not belonging here. At some point, we'll figure out how to bring back the Lady Kira that belongs here. I'll go home to my own dimension, to the Dean that I love. If our love is meant to be, it will be, regardless of time and space," Kira explained.

A soft smile graced Dean's face. "I understand, sweetheart. If you want, I'll walk you back to your room so you can get some sleep," he offered.

Kira nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you," she replied.

Once the pair had reached the door to Kira's room, Dean took her in his arms again. He brushed his knuckles on her cheek with one hand as he pulled her close to his body with the other. "Just promise me that at the ball, if you're still here, you will save every dance for me," he said huskily. Prince Dean lowered his head and pressed his lips to Kira's forehead in a lingering kiss.

"For as long as I'm here, I promise. Every dance is yours," she repeated. Kira opened the door and stepped inside, but before she closed the door, she whispered, "Goodnight". Kira leaned her back against the closed door and she heard Prince Dean softly say, "Goodnight" in return.

She closed her eyes as she thought back on the events that occurred after sneaking out of her room. A smile slowly spread across her face as Kira turned on the light so that she could find her sleeping attire.

Part 7 here!

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The Hunter’s Princess Series Tags: @supernatural-love14

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