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greekbros · 3 years

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"greek-Bros Headcanon: The Big 6"

Zeus:

-Pretty much everything about him is pretty standard, including him being your regular man. Flaws and all. Oddly enough he isn't that truly complicated as an individual, after all, all mankind IS mostly modeled after him and few other gods.

-As he and the others were assigned their devine positions, he started taking up attributes of the sky and his own consignated animal the eagle, like feathers instead of hair, incredible eyesight and a tendency to create electricity with excessive movement or emotional outbursts. He's towering and under his more comfortable toga he's fucking BUILT.

-He's a rather decent father by ancient Greek standards, yes almost everything he has done according to mortal men have happened. Of course his own children weren't going to argue against him. However, he always has his offspring and so on in mind. He tries to interact with his children in meaningful ways as much as he can or want, regardless he isn't a forgetful man....just a 'busy' one.

-In spite of his powerful and stern demeanor, he is always constantly at odds with his own inner demons. He's ALWAYS questioning his past actions, he laments his terrible and questionable decision he had ever impulsively but he does take up the traditional mantle of "masculine density" and rarely shows his emotions. When he does show his emotions, it's either heartbreaking or a loud storm targeting said source of destress.

-He deeply loves Hera in every sense of the word, but he has "such a big heart he can't just keep it to himself", quote Zeus. Regardless, he still acts on his impulses and is the root of all his problems. Legend has it, his very essence accidentally created King Henry the 8th and many other historical heartbreakers.

-In spite of making up many of the rules of humanity (with extra help of the rest of his siblings), human mortals have always had a terrible habit of breaking these rules. Zeus has made so.many of these rules that he's just stop keeping up with keeping mortals in place. He just kind of let's things happen. At this point of his existence, his only concern now is to make sure other gods are following their rules.

-He HATES child sacrifices. Mostly because when a living thing gets sacrificed it comes in flesh and blood directly to the land of the gods. So naturally, there is a complete population of "ascended" mortals and animals in Olypmus....and he already has his hands full. Plus he just doesn't like the principal of it all. He genuinely hates children getting hurt in the first place.

-HIS list of enemies is a kilometer long. It includes everything that's a titan, some of his own children (and grandchildren), Hera to a very small extent and Hades.....even though there has been literally NOTHING that has proven Hades is a threat to him.

-The main reason why Zeus adamantly believes that Hades is out to get him is because of HOW he assigned Hades to be god of the underworld..... basically, he asked Hades to check a dark cave.....and closed the cave entrence while he and Poseidon ran off. Hades ironically doesn't care about this and has no real intensions of taking revenge on Zeus for anything, the fact Zeus haphazardly gave him a wife and lives in constant paranoia gives him solence.

-He is extremely defensive of Hermes and Dionysus. Inspite of his claim of loving all his offspring equally, he feels a deeper connection to Hermes considering that he was to be considered the "prodigal usurper" before Dionysus, meanwhile Dionysus is his youngest son with the most responsibility for a god so naturally he's going to keep a closer eye on both just a little bit more. In terms of familiar respect, Athena and Apollo are tied as his most "important" children.

-After Athena's birth, Zeus's mental fortitude, better judgement and intellectual integrity has completely been capped. He constantly has headaches, tends to make terrible decisions, tends to be forgetful, and goes through terrible flashbacks to anything that can come to mind. He still loves and respects his daughter but he has to admit her very presence gives his a headache. It's rumored that his brain is 2/5ths of what it use to be.

-He has no control over Hera and never will. After several take overs, a very nasty scroll call from Nyx for threatening to harm Hypnos, and having several lovers killed by her, he's completely decided that fighting her or arguing with her. He would still end all.of existence for her.

-The only entities he truly fears is Nyx, Gaia and Aphrodite. Nyx being a more intimidating foe of his, Gaia being his own grandmother and Aphrodite being a she-titan who for reason decided it was cash-money as fuck to just take residence in Olypmus.....that....and a good small chunk of his afairs were caused by her and her son Eros.

-He STILL has no idea how Heracles inherited his THICCNESS. He may consider himself thicc but Heracles couldn't have gotten from him.

-He adores all his followers and considers them worthy of answering their prayers.... Except for one. Lycaon.

-He loves giving Hera pet names but due to her burning anger towards him, she won't let him....even though she loves the pet names he gives her.

-He has many professional relationships and alliances with other gods. However he has had a long on-going distrust of the Sumerian gods. He just finds them to be a little too private in comparison to the rest of his fellow gods. That and he's actually jealous of their near perfect beards. His beard tends to sprout stray down feathers.

Hera:

-She was assigned to be the goddess of marriage and the household, however, she has assigned herself as the goddess of the mind, heart and soul. Because as it turns out, she causes more boughts of madness more than Eris and Dionysus combined. She also controls female intuition and matters of personal strength. She's the force that helps feel when something isn't right or when you feel like you need to do something important wether being benign or malignant. She basically IS your emotional support mom/aunt, but she controls you and your emotions. However she actually uses this ability in moderation.

-She is considered as "Step-Mom" by most of Zeus's out of wedlock offspring. She's always extremely shrewed, vindictive and most of the time outright nasty....but that's about it. She will attempt to get you once or twice but if she senses that it could be a massive waste of her time than she'll just make your life a smig shittier. However, she not an "evil" step mom, more of a step mom who has to get use to her step-children, it will take some work for both parties but deep down she's just angry at Zeus.

-She hates Zeus's children, but she isn't heartless, quite the opposite, children are children in her mind regardless if it's hers or not. She'll make it hard for you but if you ask her for help or ask her in the right manner, she will be delighted to help.

-She is your quintessential woman, she loves jewels, the finer things in life, small animals (especially birds) and she can be either the sweetest or the meanest. After all, like Zeus who created MAN, she created WOMAN. Legend has it she actually let the rest of the gods collaborate as a way to make them feel better. Or at least that's how she puts it, turns out Hermes and Aphrodite made a deal to make more like "them" than Hera intended. While MAN was built pretty close to Zeus's intended design, WOMAN was designed with Aphrodite's beauty and tender nature, while Hermes gave "a dirty mind" much like how MAN were given. Basically WOMAN and MAN are completely equal in everyway regardless of "differences".

-Shes also adopted some inhuman attributes, she grows feathers on some portions of her hair, she feels insecure about them but Zeus adores this because it reminds him that's birds mate for life. Her feathers look more like feathers of a peahen and seamlessly blends with her hair.

-Her ONLY desire is for Zeus to stop cheating on her. She literally wants nothing more. That, and for Dionysus and Apollo to stop steal her dresses for their own endeavors.

-She loves her biological children and their offspring but somehow they keep disappointing her. Ares loves a woman who cheats on Hephaestus and Hebe is in love with the son of the woman who Zeus cheated with. She believes it's karma but at the same time she couldn't be less surprised.

-She loves Hephaestus, but due to his limped leg and his more rugged appearance, she barely tolerates looking at him. Which is strange because Hephaestus heavily resembles Zeus.

-She knows the truth about Erichthonius. He's also her favorite grandson. She has her eye on almost everything, she actually saw the whole drama between Athena and Hephaestus. At first she wanted to intervene but after she noticed this consummated a child and saw how Athena took initiative to take care of the child regardless of her chastity, it gained a little more respect for Athena. Being raised to be a wise young man by Athena and being Hephaestus's biological son, Erichthonius has been secretly considered the most successful grandchild to her.

-Her favorite animals are birds, Zeus as a webbing present gave her the chance to create birds. Thanks to her, the skies are filled with songs.

-She doesn't have a lot of enemies, however, Aphrodite is a big contender against her. While Hera controls the integrity of women, Aphrodite controls their emotional and sexual impulses. So Hera is at constent odd against her...that...and the main reason why Hera married her off to Hephaestus because she wanted to make amends to him....not make his life anymore worse than it already is.

-Hera is aware how most of Zeus's children feel about her, but she appreciates it dearly when one of them does something nice for her....even though she probably demanded it or care for it.

Poseidon and Amphitrite:

-Hes absolutly BOMBASTIC. He's the most carefree of his brothers, most physically fit and considered the most handsome.

-His marriage is ironically WORSE than Zeus's, but he and Amphitrite consensually agreed to pretend nothing is wrong.... apparently it works like a charm and they barely fight. However this is considered a massively concerning situation to Zeus and Hera because the both of them know that a relationship that doesn't regularly express their grievances...often end sour.

-Like his siblings, he's adopted physical attributes that correspond to their environment. Apparently, he has grown gills, his 'beard' is actually octopus tentacles and he has scales in certain places. He can shapeshift into many aquatic creatures.

-Unlike his brothers, his offspring are genetic tossups. One can look relatively ok, another can be a cyclops for no reason. His most famous child is Triton, but the poor lad is a rather simple and humble young mad who has very little aspersions in life. Poseidon tries to encourage him to do something productive but Triton just sort of falls below average in popularity.

- He's the best horseman in all of Greece, in fact his love for horses only rivals his love for literally trying to destroy humanity and his wife.

-He has a love/hate relationship with his nephews. However if you would ask him which nephew he dislikes the most, it would be Dionysus. Oddly enough, Dionysus actually likes to antagonize Poseidon, mostly because he's actually more strict than his dad. It wasn't until the invention of the dolphin that made Dionysus's and Poseidon's relationship between each other a little better. Poseidon has a less innocent hatred for Athena, after losing patronship over Athens, he's sworn vengeance over her. However it's more akin to sending really annoying Facebook messages rather than epic natural disasters. Once a year, he enjoys terrorizing Athens through changing the spring water to saltwater for a few days, make all the horses aggressive and give "oddly constent" tremors.

-If it wasn't for Zeus proposing to Hera first, he would have married her instead. Even though the two had married different people, it always seemed the two had a very interesting chemistry.

- Even though there may be a serious discourse on who it's Theseus's father. The reality is Poseidon doesn't actually want to claim Theseus as his own for mysterious reasons.

-He never sent a different bull to Minos, Poseidon took the form of a bull and cursed Pasiphaë. This was the first account of a god that WASN'T Aphrodite and Eros to have caused someone to be sexually attracted by magic. This has been a family secret between the big 6 for years because if any other gods found out they could just will people's passion, the world be in a state of pure chaos. Poseidon however has an even dirtier secret, he didn't use his godly powers on Pasiphaë, instead he just found a way to get her specifically attracted to him in bull form by using an old recipe for an aphrodisiac from the sunken city of Atlantis. He doesn't tell the truth about this because he's an asshole that way. He finds it more useful to have the other gods believing he had something in reality he didn't have.

- He has a fun hobby of naming his horses the most adorable and somewhat random names, like "Peach Basket", "TootsieFoot" and ect. It ended up being a traditional way of naming race horses in racing derbies.

- He has absolutly no love for humans. He enjoys that mortals worship him and such but the fact he has an entire ocean at his and his wife's disposal, he honestly feels that he has very little need for mortal worshippers....at least this is what he originally thought until his power was contested by an ocean god named Dagon. Long story short, Poseidon no longer takes mortals for granted anymore....and likely never will.

- Poseidon is Olypmus's most prolific warden, like Hades, Poseidon has his own prisoners of war. Most of them being titans, monsters, giants and occasionally malignant gods. It's even argued that he's a much more strict jailer considering being sealed away by Poseidon is a death sentence.

-His greatest pleasure is people enjoying themselves in water in positive ways. Swimming, playing games, and gently interacting with marine animals. However his greatest distain comes from mortals misusing his ocean.

- He has a professional relationship with mostly other Greek water gods and anything related to water. He monitors the water nymphs, consoles all horse-like beasts and so on and so forth.

- She has equal control of the ocean just like her husband. In fact, she has equal control of half of everything Poseidon has. Apparently this is what helps their marriage and it almost makes up for Poseidon's eccentric behaviors.

- Not much is known about her, but based on her interactions, she's a lot more nicer and more gentle than Poseidon when it comes to leadership. She's generous, eccentrically fabulous and has the same energy of a 1920's rich hamptons housewife.

-Shes genuine friends with all of the goddesses and she rarely plays on a specific team. She's a bizzarly lucid gal who loves to lend a shoulder to cry on.

-She and only she has the semi-chaotic energy to tolerate Poseidon and his afairs.

- If Poseidon wants to do something, he would HAVE to ask Amphitrite for permission. After all it isn't "Your side, your rules", it's a partnership between a married couple.

Demeter:

- Controlling over the domain of the earth and harvest, you'll always see some type of vegetation growing on her. It mostly appears as if she fashionably placed strands of wheat grain, fruit flowers and leaves inductive of the season. She and Hestia are the only ones of the big six who don't have animal based attributes. Demeter is also the tallest of the sisters.

-Her input in important matters usually revolve around conservation, providing sustenance and extra maternal perspective. It's contestant as well that she can even be more motherly than Hera, even at her most grim demeanor.

-She is a loving and doting mother. She's the most gentle of the goddesses and yet she can be just as harsh when she needed to.

-She consideres the earth her personal garden, but she shares it with world. Her favorite activity is to create new and exciting plants with Persephone (Or Kore as she prefers to call Persephone) and spending time with her.

-She has other offspring but she doesn't make a fuss about their fathers and their lack of presence. As long as she can keep all of them safe, it's all she needs and cares about.

- Demeter can easily put everyone in Olypmus to their knees. The gods and by extension mortals all have to depend on her and her harvests. When Persephone was taken, she placed all the whole of Greece in a state of famine.

- She use to love and trust Hades, but after he had haphazardly taken Persephone away, all that changed. She keeps a serious eye on Hades since than and has a deep resentment for him and his actions. She barely acknowledges him when he's present but she's still cordial. After a few years however, her attitudes towards him mellowed seeing how Persephone looks forward to seeing Hades every winter.

- She would have married Zeus if his eyes weren't set on Hera. Like Poseidon and Hera, there has been speculation that he and Demeter would have been a better married couple considering both of their personalities would have complimented each other. But that belongs in the "stray line".

-Being the goddess of the harvest, she mostly tends to the matters of farmers and gardeners. By extension, she has an extremely healthy relationship with other vegetation gods, especially Dionysus. Whom oddly enough is treated more like an adopted son rather than a nephew.

- She adores all of her nieces and nephews equally, mostly because she sees that all of them have utilized her gifts to the world in the proper manner. She adores the Bois, because each other of them represents an important value in cultivation.

-She tends to be an anxious woman, and at worst a worrywart. However, she always tries to keep a level head when she desperately needs it.

-She loves animals just as much as she does plants. She in fact helped console in the creation of everything based on how things could tend to themselves without the intervention of the gods. Her ingenuity help give rise to what is considered the concept of the circle of life and the food chain.

-She has an amazing connection between her sisters, prior to being assigned their domains, the three of them would often play with each other and stay close to their mother Rhea. The brothers would always be rummaging around the place and would often tease their sisters.

Hestia:

- The eldest and most lackadaisical sister, she's the more tomboyish of the sisters and loves to rough house.

-She has dark hair with ember roots, the brightness of which increases with emotions. Her physical attributes is her hair always looking alive with flames and being able to increase the temperature in her body.

-Shes a stocky, jolly woman who loves to work in the kitchen whip up something special. She's mostly known for her amazing recipes and her staff of Vestals. She may not keep herself up to the standards of her sisters, but she sees beauty in herself just the way she is.

-The Vestals in her domain are sadly those who "failed to keep the sacred fire lit", that must be sacrificed to the flame. Hestia dispises this punishment, but sadly it seems rarely any of her so-called priests listen to her. Everytime when she receives a vestal, she welcomes them with open arms, a big warm hug and a heartfelt apology for thier suffering. She than mentors them in the ways of the hearth, the real ways straight from the source.

- Like Demeter, she has a massive soft spot for her nieces and nephews. Dionysus again seemingly being the common favorite due to his fun loving personality and his contributions. In a strange sense, as a gift for finally proving himself worthy of a seat in Olypmus, she gave him her own. Hephaestus is another favorite of hers. She often times invites Hephaestus to her domain to have a chat, she often feels for him and tries her best to give him his over due affections in the form of baked goods, interesting items she has been gifted through the hearth and such.

-She isn't a political person to begin with, what one does with their business is their own in her mind. So when she gets called up to converse in such matters, she either stays out of it or she determines herself if it's worth her time.

- She has a mild aversion to water. Poseidon often teases her by flicking a small splash of water, but it just peeves her a little. Mostly because water droplets just sizzle on her and it feels like a little lactic acid itch to her. If someone were to have dumped water on her, it would be feel like as if some dunked boiling water with itching powder on you. She always feels warm so she tends to """cool""" herself down with molten magma or bonfire. When she enters flames, it can depend on where it came from; underworld fire often feels like stepping into one of Costco's Freezers for a little bit and normal earthly flames feeling like a little cool breeze to her.

- She has the most communication between her and her worshippers out of any god. So I. Truth, it's actually easy to envoke her through flames and hearthing.

-She isn't just a goddess of the hearth, she's also the goddess of cooks, bakers, female blacksmiths or the wives of blacksmiths, and glassblowers. Thus she has an extremely healthy relationship with Hephaestus.

-The reason why she chose to be a virgin is actually a simple reason. While Artemis represents chasity for childhood innocence and Athena represents chasity for matters of country and country men, Hestia's chasity is all about personal choice and freedom. Why have children of her own when her vestals are basically her own children, she feels love and responsibility for each of them. The reality is she's not into men, in fact if she wanted to relinquish her chastity, she would want a loving wife. But she isn't interested in marriage or a relationship either. She's as she puts it "far too free for anyone". So in truth, she represents freedom of choice and the firing passion that comes with compassion.

Hades:

-He's what you'd expect from someone who lives most of his life in the underworld yet at the same time not. He's tall, pale, has jet black slicked hair, extremely eloquent and distinguishing. He always trails low hanging mist, seemingly gliding throughout, his eyes glow a warm yellow and speaks in a soft but booming voice. He's not as muscular as his brothers, but he is rather dashing.

-He's more akin to being a classical depiction of a gentleman vampire than a god. Due to his occupation, he's developed a very professional disposition. He greets, guides and consoles the dead. At first he might seems intimidating and even at times callous, but he has your best interests at heart and is a fair ruler. Oddly enough if it wasn't for his aesthetic and his reputation of being ruler of the underworld, he would probably be more comparable to an Arthurian ruler.

-Out of all his siblings, he's the least problematic. He keeps to himself so often that it could be YEARS before anyone would hear from him.

-He's a dedicated and simple man of business, and he takes his job very seriously with a healthy amount of exceptions.

-The "reality" of his chance encounter with Persephone was actually before her kidnapping. He met her while taking a chariot ride and had a passing conversation with her, completely unaware she was Demeter's daughter. After coming back to the underworld, his minions found a bizzare type of mold growing deep in Tartarus that consumed souls. In a panicked state, he than kidnapped Persephone in the hopes she would help the situation, she was glad to be of service and was escorted back to earth. After such a strange ordeal, the two of them kept meeting in secret until Persephone decided to stay with Hades for an extended amount of time. After consuming the food of the underworld by mistake, the story starts returns back to the original.

-He doesn't have much of an opinion on his nieces and nephews. He enjoys Hermes's equally hardworking personality and friendly disposition, he's had Apollo make occasional appearances to give Tartarus some form sunlight, he seems to tolerate Dionysus's slacker behavior but he seems have a very strange connection to Dionysus on a "spiritual" level. However he has extremely low patients for Ares. He isn't too fond of him due to the fact the Ares makes his job a lot for tenuous when wars breakout and his occasional sneaking around the underworld to bother the other chthonic gods.

-He may rule over the underworld, but he's not THEE ruler. He's sort of the equivalent to a king in comparison to Nyx, who is more of an empress. By extension, the ruling regions of the underworld organized rather similarly to a medieval monarchy. Thus creating what the Christians assume is how hell looks and functions like in The Discoverie of Witchcraft, The Book of Spirits, Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, The Lesser Key of Solomon, and Dictionnaire Infernal. Surprisingly, Tartarus actually has nothing to do with anything that the book has to offer.

- The Elysian Fields were created for two very interesting reasons, it was a gift to Persephone for her to feel more comfortable in the underworld and a safe place for those who didn't fit in purgatory or the deeper part of Tartarus. In fact Persephone rules over the fields while Hades rules over the rest.

-When he was first given Cerberus as a pup, Cerberus was dark grey covered in little black spots. As he grew older, Cerberus's fur became darker to a solid black. Ironically, Hades believed Cerberus was going to be spotted throughout his life.

-He unfortunately has no offspring of his own, but he and Persephone isn't above adopting either. Much like Hestia, Hades has a surprising amount of apprentices, apostles and proteges that all are adopted lost souls. Many of them ranging in different ages and such. Charon kept mentioning there had been a small gathering of child wraiths at the banks of the Styx. Apparently many of them being abandoned children who's parents never gave Obolus Obviously, Hades had to make an exception, obviously he wasn't going to let orphaned children fend for themselves in the banks of Styx, so....he now has many wonderful and rambunctious ghost children simply living out there time.

-He's literally the richest god. He didn't expect to accidentally inherit the Earth's worth in wealth. Apparently, there's an on going joke that Gaia gave this wealth to Hades as a form of revenge against Zeus and Poseidon. That....and Gaia actually likes Hades more.

-Zeus and Poseidon were, are and forever regretful that Hades rules the underworld basically hoarding wealth like some posh dragon. Ironically, Hades has 0 idea that he actually owns any of the wealth, that's right, he literally doesn't know anything about the precious metals, gems and such. He assumes his wealth comes from the sheer real estate and number of souls collects. If you ever found out about his incredible amount of monetary control, he probably wouldn't have any idea what to do with it.

-Hades has a professional relationship with Nyx, however, Nyx has decided he's an "adopted neighbor husband". She's extremely affectionate to him as if she was married to him. Hades however, is a dedicated husband and tries him best to make it clear that they're friendly neighbors and not by any means lovers. She doesn't care and still treats him as such. He doesn't know why but all he knows is that she is a powerful, primordial super goddess who lives in the underworld with him. Another ex-lover of Hades was Minthe, who in truth barley added anything for Hades in terms of a meaningful relationship, it was mostly just a lover's affair. After some time, Hades figured that his time was better spent working. After he married Persephone, Minthe attempted to take her revenge by trying seduce Hades back.....let's just say Persephone left her a little green.

#greek mythology #greek gods #greek bros #hellenistic #greek myth memes #hades #Zeus #hera #Demeter #Hestia #poseidon #character concept #character study

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

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universe of beaches Chp. 2

In which Anakin makes breakfast, Padmé ensure the boys are well dressed and there is a wedding. Read on AO3!

So honey take me by the hand and we can sign some papers Forget the invitations, floral arrangements and bread makers

-Alvvays, Archie Marry Me

Obi-Wan woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. It took him a few moments to start wondering about it. The first thing to consider was the fact that he usually didn’t eat bacon or pancakes or anything really for breakfast. Secondly, nobody should be in his house cooking him breakfast. As slowly as Sloth, the memories of last night’s adventured trickled in so that by the time Obi-wan actually crawled out of Anakin and Padmé’s bed, at least fifteen minutes had passed. He sat up and stretched, attempting to shake his exhaustion from his limbs. When he turned around, he found Padmé still asleep. He vaguely recalled her slipping out of bed as the last one to get up for the twins during the night. At the thought of the children, Obi-Wan glanced at their crib only to find it empty.

If Padmé was still asleep, and the twins awake already, it had to be Anakin cooking in the kitchen and looking after them. Carefully, so Obi-Wan wouldn’t wake her, he stood up and headed towards the living room. He found the twins already sitting in their highchairs at the dinner table and cheerfully throwing their toys around. When they spotted him, they waved excitedly and babbled at him.

“Good morning to you too,” Obi-Wan retorted and went to retrieve the plush banthas. Ever since Anakin had become obsessed with Star Wars, more and more merch from it had found itself into the twins’ belongings. It should surprise Obi-Wan that these were their favorite toys. He set them down in front of them. Luke and Leia quickly took them from him and pressed them close to their bodies. The animals were almost the same size as the twins and so it all made a rather ridiculous picture that had Obi-Wan grinning.

Moving past them, he headed towards the kitchen where Anakin was standing at the stove.

“Pancakes, eggs, and bacon?” Obi-Wan asked, leaning against the doorframe. “What a nice surprise.”

Anakin threw him a look over his shoulder and grinned. “Well, yeah, have to spoil my future husband, don’t I?”

His smile twitched slightly, uncertainty taking it over for a moment.

“Of course, darling,” Obi-Wan returned easily, skipping straight over the topic. He had already made his decision, Anakin didn’t need to worry. “Tell me, do you have tea as well?”

“Of course. We even have your favorite.”

Anakin reached for the wall cabinet with his left hand. He hadn’t put on his prosthetic yet and Obi-Wan just hoped he hadn’t turned it to pieces as stressed as he had been. Anakin tended to tinker with it a lot because he was so pissed with the cheap model he had been provided with and had built his own out of scraps. It was a good aid usually, just a little too heavy still and there were some other fine motion issues that Obi-Wan couldn’t entirely recall. He didn’t exactly have the technical knowledge to do anything more than understanding the bare basics of Anakin’s ramblings.

Anakin set a box filled with bags of tea onto the counter. “Your favorite is in the very right corner.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan replied and got three cups out of a drawer. He put his favorite tea into his own cup and picked something calming for Anakin and Padmé.

He then started up the kettle and went to grab plates from the cupboards to lay the table. He also got a set of plastic ones for Luke and Leia and then put all on it on a tray he was fairly sure used to belong to him at one point. He carried his assembly of cutlery into the living room and distributed everything in a safe distance from the twins, already aware of the look they shot the new prospective toys.

He then returned to the kitchen to grab some healthy things to eat besides Anakin’s bacon and pancakes and the twins' fruit puree. Padmé and Anakin’s fridge was upsettingly empty and Obi-Wan was tempted to invite them to lunch and dinner today. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money for it. He lived alone in a house that had been in his family’s possession for generations, had a steady income, and his inheritance if things got rough.

He still didn’t know how he had ended up as his grandfather’s favored grandchild – Feemor was, after all, actually the most mild-mannered of them all – but Obi-Wan had given up arguing with Dooku Serenno. If his grandfather wanted to throw money at him, he just let him. It was easier than forcing himself to sit through a six-hour argument that only ended with him agreeing to whatever his grandfather had thought of anyway.

After a few more minutes, Anakin brought in the eggs, bacon, and pancakes and set them on the table and, as if summoned, Padmé arrived in the living room.

“Good morning,” she muttered tiredly and gave Anakin a quick peck on the lips while then absolutely smothering the twins with kisses. Luke and Leia shrieked in delight and began to laugh. The sounds were probably the sweetest thing Obi-Wan had heard in a while. He wouldn’t even mind giving the awful Introduction to Literary Studies course for the next few semesters if he could get to see the twins every morning.

“What time is it even?” Padmé asked as she slipped into one of the chairs. “I didn’t check the clock.”

“Six a.m. We agreed to meet Quinlan in two hours.”

“Oh, that’s good. Then we still have enough time to dress you both up.”

“What?” Obi-Wan stopped right in the middle of pulling a pancake onto his plate. “What do you mean dress up?”

Padmé shrugged and smiled softly.

“My third and fourth favorite person in the world are getting married, you ought to be dressed up and look nice for your wedding. Even if it’s just pretending. We can show it the twins in a couple of years and be all ‘look at the time Daddy and Uncle Obi-Wan got married’ and then we’ll have a laugh about it.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t so sure if they were really going to laugh about it in the future, looking back at the horrible circumstances that got them here, but they could try at least.

“I still have the suit from our wedding somewhere,” Anakin brought up and spoon-fed Leia some mashed stuff that Obi-Wan couldn’t identify. Could be apples, could be bananas – the glass container didn’t say. “White, red and gold. Think you can match that color scheme?”

Obi-Wan honestly had no idea. The last time he had worn a proper suit had been a while ago as he hadn’t had to go to any super fancy events lately. If Anakin was going to drag out his very fine suit though, Obi-Wan should probably do the same, if only for the photos.

“I’ll have to take a look,” he finally replied.

“Great!” Padmé clapped her hands together and, of course, the twins immediately imitated her. “So first, we’ll stop at Obi-Wan’s place, then after go to the park, get married, submit the documents and then do nothing for the remainder of the day because I think the stress will kill me otherwise.”

“Kill you?” Anakin echoed and threw up his arms in a grand gesture. “I’m the one who’s getting married!”

Obi-Wan laughed at his ridiculous actions and exaggerating dramatics. He honestly missed eating a meal with the Skywalker-Naberrie household. The mornings here were never as boring as they were in his own home where it was just him on his own, pretending he was actually bothering to eat a healthy breakfast and wasn’t just grabbing a cup of coffee on the way to university.

That reminded him.

“Don’t you have classes today?” he asked Anakin. He was fairly sure that Wednesday mornings were one of the busier ones for Anakin.

“Already emailed my professor,” Anakin retorted. “Said it was a family emergency, he was very understanding.”

Of course, he was. Anakin’s teachers either loved or hated him – always had. Now that Anakin didn’t have to bother with any ‘useless subjects’ anymore but could pretty much do what he wanted, most of his teachers actually enjoyed having the genius in their class, if only for the bragging rights. Obi-Wan was sure that if not for the twins, Anakin could have been made a TA already.

“That’s good.”

They finished breakfast quickly and then got dressed right after one another. Obi-Wan picked his old clothes up from where he had left them last night and then grabbed some of the clothes he had left at their place when he’d still stayed there for more than just one night and put them on. When he was finished and left the bathroom, Luke and Leia were at least half dressed already, wearing green romper suits. They were then passed off to him with well-practiced ease as their parents got ready in turn.

Obi-Wan waited for Anakin and Padmé with the twins sitting in front of him on the ground. He had been there the first time they had sat up, just a couple of days ago. By now they seemed to have a better hang on it and were happy as ever.

Anakin emerged first from the bathroom, dressed rather casually compared to his wife who had taken the time to put on make-up and fetch one of her fancier dark dresses. After yet another few minutes searching for keys and purses and shoes, the three adults and the children were all washed, dressed, and ready to go.

“My car or yours?” Obi-Wan asked, unnecessarily as Padmé already took the twins’ car seats out of their car.

“Hey!” Anakin protested, but helped settle the children into Obi-Wan’s car anyway. “My car can drive us there just fine and safely.”

Anakin’s car, lovingly called twilight for all the times it had broken down, leaving them stranded in the twilight zone, was a safe car. Obi-Wan didn’t doubt Anakin’s mechanical skills. He just also knew that it wasn’t exactly up to street regulations anymore due to its street racing aimed modifications. If they were stopped by the police, they’d be in for a nice chat.

“You can drive it just fine, I’m not driving that,” Padmé jabbed.

The drive to Obi-Wan’s house was quick and filled with conversation, mostly pointing out random objects to the twins and saying what they were called or what their color was. The twins listened eagerly and contributed to the conversation as best they could.

Once they arrived at Obi-Wan’s house, Padmé and Anakin each took one of their children to carry them inside.

“I’ll just grab a suit then,” Obi-Wan said, already halfway up the stairs. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

Padmé and Anakin exchanged a look that honestly didn’t look all too promising and almost just a little threatening.

“Or you can come with me and help me pick one out?” Obi-Wan amended and was instantly rewarded by two happy smiles.

Obi-Wan’s bedroom was nothing special, ignoring that it was larger than Padmé and Anakin’s and also had a playpen since he had watched over the twins one time and he had just bought one on the way home so he didn’t have to return to Padmé and Anakin’s to pick theirs up. It had seemed like a good future investment at the time and proved to still be one when they sat the twins inside and they stayed peaceful.

“Alright.” Anakin flopped down on Obi-Wan’s bed, making himself at home. “What have you got?”

“Anything that matches this?” Padmé inquired and pulled Anakin’s wedding suit from a bag. It was still in pristine condition. The suit itself was white, but the hems of the arms and pants, as well as the pockets, had been embroidered by fie red and gold thread, Tatooine and Naboo tradition mixed apparently. Anakin had gushed about it for hours when he had told Obi-Wan about it and Obi-Wan probably knew more about it than any other living person on this earth. The only one he had talked about it to more would be Padmé, though Obi-Wan also felt like he was the person who knew the most about Padmé’s wedding dress and lace-making traditions.

“I should have something,” Obi-Wan said, eyeing the red color of the suit.

He disappeared into his walk-in closet, an unnecessary thing that was only half full at most really and began searching through his suits. He had plenty enough, black, grey, blue – standard colors. He just wasn’t sure if any of those were quite up to wedding level standards.

The thought of marriage made him stop, just for a moment. Of course, there was nothing exactly special about marrying Anakin. This was just a beneficial business arrangement and was meant to keep his best friend safe until they had figured the rest out. Obi-Wan hadn’t thought of himself as somebody who would get married, at least not anymore. There had been a time where he could have imagined it, with the right person, but that was years ago and by now he was content just spending time with his friends and their adorable children.

Obi-Wan ran his fingers over his selection of suits and hesitated over a dark blue one. He had bought it a while ago for a formal award ceremony that had never taken place because of some copyright scandal. He had kept the suit but never actually worn it, thinking he would someday. The suits buttons were golden and would match nicely with Anakin’s. Obi-Wan picked out a white undershirt and a dark tie.

“Have you found anything?” Padmé asked.

“Yes! Give a minute to put it on,” Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin and Padmé cheered with enthusiasm. Obi-Wan sighed with a silly smile and, for the second time within 24 hours, undressed for Anakin and Padmé. Despite it having been a while, the suit still fit snugly and well and when he looked at himself in the mirror, he thought he looked quite good. He threw his old clothes into the laundry basket and stepped outside.

“And?” he asked and did a little spin. “Does it fit?”

Padmé and Anakin studied him intensely, then nodded. “Yeah, this- uh, you look great,” Anakin said, stumbling over his own words.

“Have I rendered you speechless, dear one?” Obi-Wan asked, teased.

Anakin spluttered, earning himself a laugh from his wife.

“Absolutely stunning, Obi-Wan,” Padmé told him.

She stood up and circled around Obi-Wan, reminding him just a bit of a predator eyeing their target. If he remembered correctly one of her childhood friends – Eirtaé? Or was it Rabé? – was a designer and had frequently requested Padmé’s help on her amateur fashion shows.

“This will do just fine,” Padmé decided. “Alright, Anakin, your turn.”

“Wait what?”

“You need to get dressed as well, don’t you?” Obi-Wan said. “C’mon, big day.”

Padmé put the suit in Anakin’s hand so that he could change. Anakin returned after a few minutes, dressed in his white suit, his right sleeve hanging loose. He looked good as he had the day of his wedding, though his hair was a little longer now, which was a lot better than the god-awful haircut he had sported at nineteen.

“And? What do you say?” Anakin turned to the children. “Does daddy look good?”

The twins, distracted with their toys, didn’t even react, leaving Anakin hanging.

“You do look good,” Padmé said and helped him roll up his right sleeve.

“We’re all finished then, aren’t we?” Obi-Wan asked. “I’m dressed, so are you, the twins are wearing their nicest clothes, Padmé is outshining all of us. All that’s left to do is see if Quinlan is up yet and hasn’t forgotten about it.”

He probably should have called him first thing in the morning, but Quinlan likely wouldn’t even have answered that early.

Anakin rocked forward and backward on his heels. “Yeah, that seems to be about it.”

“I’ll call him then.” Obi-Wan searched for his phone, found it in his pocket after an embarrassingly long time and then quickly dialed Quinlan. As he was the last person Obi-Wan had called, he should be the last number on his list. Instead, Obi-Wan was surprised to see that his father had called him while he had been asleep. Typically Qui-Gon, the man never did call to reasonable hours too stuck on whatever time zone he was in and not knowing about anybody else’s. Obi-Wan wasn’t too keen on calling him back. If it was something important, he would know it. His father could try again, Obi-Wan was sick of trying.

Quinlan picked up after the second ring, much faster than Obi-Wan had expected.

“Obi-Wan,” Quinlan greeted. “Good morning, my man. You ready for the big day?”

So Quinlan hadn’t forgotten it, that was good at least. Obi-Wan would hate to go through the whole spiel again. “Yeah, we’re ready. Is there anything you need to get done?”

“Nope,” cam ethe reply. “I’ve taken care of everything. Driving to the park right now. When will you be there?”

Obi-Wan exchanged looks with Padmé and Anakin.

“Twenty?” Padmé suggested. Anakin nodded.

“Twenty,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Sweet.” Quinlan then quickly rattled off how to get to the gazebo he was so in love with and then finished the call.

And that was it. Obi-Wan pocketed his phone and the trio plus children left his bedroom and finally his house. They went back to Obi-Wan’s car and drove to the park. As it was fairly early still, and a weekday, not many people were out. Obi-Wan parked the car, they took the stroller out of the trunk and settled the children in it. Recalling Quinlan’s instructions, they walked through the park. The only people that they met were fellow parents with small children and here and there what looked like a group of college students cramming.

Obi-Wan needed to get to work as well, he had been supposed to finish grading his papers by the end of the week. Oh well, his students would just have to live with him taking a little longer. He’d just let them off without homework.

Obi-Wan didn’t expect to find Quinlan in the distance, but his friend was for once dressed nicely and not just in his dark jeans, hoodie, and leather jacket. Quinlan spotted them soon after and waved at them, a motion the twins were happy to return. If Quinlan was confused by their presence, he didn’t show it.

“Obi-Wan!” He greeted and pulled Obi-Wan into a hug. “How are you doing, my friend?”

“Well, thank you,” Obi-Wan retorted. “And thank you for helping us out.”

Quinlan grinned and slapped Obi-Wan on the back.

“No problem, I’m honestly happy I get to do this for you. So, what’s the arrangement? Just you and Anakin?”

Obi-Wan blanked. He had actually no idea what Quinlan thought they were getting into. Last night it had just sounded like he was assuming that Obi-Wan was already dating Anakin, which couldn’t be further from the truth, but on the other hand… If the government had already gone such lengths to revoke Anakin’s citizen status, it was probably best this appeared as honest as possible.

“I’m marrying Anakin, yes,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Okay, okay, and dear Padmé? I got some extra paper if you want to involve her in any way too. Asajj reminded me about it.”

Obi-Wan suppressed a wince. If Asajj already knew about this, it was only going to get worse and the rumors were bound to start spreading any second. He just hoped she’d keep her mouth shut in front of his grandfather. Obi-Wan did not need Dooku breathing down his neck about this.

“No involvement from my side no,” Padmé said. “I am not brave enough to try to.”

She grinned and winked at Anakin as Quinlan laughed. “Wise choice, my lady. Those two have been making moon eyes at each other since, urgh, what? Way too long for sure.”

“Thank you for your input, Quinlan,” Obi-Wan said, rolling his eyes. “Can we get back to the topic at hand though?”

“Yes, of course.” Quinlan cleared his throat. “Have you two prepared anything or…?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. Honestly, when were they supposed to have prepared anything? “No, we haven’t, just take our signatures and-“

“Actually,” Anakin said with a shit-eating grin. “I have thought of a lovely vow I’d like to speak.”

“Now look at that, that’s how you do it, Kenobi,” Quinlan said. “Well then, Skywalker. Let’s hear it.”

“Right,” Anakin muttered, then took a deep breath. “Right, okay. Obi-Wan Kenobi, ever since I’ve first met you, you have been one of the most important people in my life. You were there for me when I had my best and my worst days. You’ve always supported me unconditionally and I don’t know where I would be without you. I love you more than words could possibly ever describe and so I just want to tell you that I hope I’ll have you by my side for the rest of my life.”

Obi-Wan’s throat closed up. With every word that fell from Anakin’s lips, he was thrown into another memory, another thought of all the times they had had each other’s backs.

“Dear one-“

Anakin held up his hand. “Not finished yet. I promise you that I will cherish you forever as every flower worships the sun. You are as precious to me as the very air I breathe and there is no other I’d trust more with my family.”

Now Anakin did smile a little embarrassedly. “And I’m eternally thankful for you. You, uh, don’t have to say anything back-“

“No,” Obi-Wan said, his heart overtaken with fondness for his best friend. “No, no, I want to. Just, give me a second.”

Obi-Wan thought back to everything he had already lived through with Anakin.

He loved him.

He really did love Anakin, his best friend was one of the few constants in his life that Obi-Wan could always count on. The more he thought about what he could say, the more easily did he figure out what he simply should tell Anakin.

“Anakin, dear one, I love you too. More so than I thought I could when I first met the scrappy nine-year-old blond kid who decided he’s going to talk to me about ships and cars in a language I couldn’t even speak. You mean the world to me and I will continually try to live up to the expectations you have of me. I will not betray the trust you have put into me and I vow to love you the same way you love me.”

A heavy silence followed his statement.

It was finally interrupted by Quinlan’s low whistle. “Always knew you were a romantic at heart. Well then, Anakin Skywalker-Naberrie, do you take Obi-Wan Kenobi as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Anakin looked into Obi-Wan’s eyes, serious all of sudden. “Yes.”

“Do you promise to always stay by his side?”

Anakin shot Quinlan a look. “Didn’t you just hear what I said?”

Quinlan only smiled and raised his hands in defense. “Alright, true enough. I think for the two of you, I can skip the questions. Well, then. Obi-Wan Kenobi, do you take Anakin Skywalker-Naberrie as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” The words weighed heavier on his tongue than Obi-Wan had expected them to. He had never been someone to make promises haphazardly, or to break them easily. He had meant every word he had told Anakin and he would do his best to honor them.

“Then – skipping the questions you all have very sappy answers to – I hereby pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss.”

Quinlan’s words shook Obi-Wan out of his thoughts like ice water, reminding him of the greater context of this ceremony.

“We don’t-“ Obi-Wan started, but was interrupted by Anakin.

“Can’t be worse than senior year,” Anakin stated and then, with a speed Obi-Wan hadn't expected, leaned forward and captured Obi-Wan’s lips in a soft kiss. The world seemed to go quiet, all background noise fading out as he put his hands around Obi-Wan’s cheeks, the warmth welcoming, and deepened the kiss once more, stealing Obi-Wan’s breath away.

By the time they separated, Obi-Wan’s head felt a little woozy and he thought his lips had to be kiss-swollen as much as they were still chasing the aftertaste of Anakin.

“And how was that?” Anakin asked, his voice rather quiet and face flushed.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, but no word would come out. All the many poems he had read, all the imagery he had destroyed and torn to shreds to built them up more beautiful and yet none of them seemed to be appropriate.

“It looked fun for sure,” Padmé spoke up and promptly kissed her husband as well, half laughing into their kiss of relief.

Right. Obi-Wan used their latch in attention to pull himself together and focus.

“Now you two just have to sign this,” Quinlan said and put the papers on the table. “Padmé can act as your witness as the twins are a little too young still.”

Obi-Wan looked down on the paperwork, which signified so much more than just a change of a relationship. Thinking more closely about this, Obi-Wan would have to change his tax forms for the year and they probably should also look into what the situation with the twins was like, but all of that could be deal with later. As long as they had this in hand, Anakin would be alright.

“Thank you, Quinlan, really,” Obi-Wan told Quinlan.

“No problem,” Quinlan replied and handed him a pencil. “Now make it official.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi accepted the pencil and signed right on one line, making his part of the contract official. He then passed the pencil to Anakin who put his messy signature right next to Obi-Wan’s. They stared at the paper for a few seconds, just letting it all sink in. They had done it, and that in such a short time too. It was only twenty past eight and it already felt as if the entire day had passed. Obi-Wan was glad he had the day off, he didn’t particularly feel like doing anything complicated at all today.

Glancing at Anakin, Obi-Wan could tell he was a little out of it as well. The realization that his life wasn’t about to get incredibly messed up within a week probably still had to settle in.

“So that was it?” Padmé asked. “They’re officially married?”

“As legal as can be,” Quinlan reassured her. “I’ll bring the paper to the office and you should get a notice within a few days. If you haven’t gotten it by next Monday, I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you, Vos,” Padmé spoke up again. “Is there anything we can do for you in return?”

Quinlan shook his head dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It was my pleasure, really. Now go and enjoy your honeymoon.”

Honeymoon, Obi-Wan snorted. The best they were going to get right now was a second breakfast.

“Off to Dex’s?” He suggested. “I could use something horribly sweet just about right now.”

And perhaps also something alcoholic.

#Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #padmé amidala #obianidala #star wars #fanfic

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untilmynextstory · 3 years

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Chapter 5: Widening Gyre

Word Count: 8K

There are just some things no one can prepare you for. There are things Alma knows she will never recover from. She had already buried one child. She doesn't know if her own heart could even manage to bury her second child.

Her precious baby girl was no longer here. Despite all the doctor visits, the medication, and vigilant watch over her baby girl's heart, it wasn't enough. Her baby girl was only five years old. She had a future. She had a life in front of her.

Alma didn't even know how she was going to be able to grieve. She didn't know what the grieving process meant for her along with her family. She had to comfort her son. She didn't know how to do that, but she tried by letting him cry in her arms. Holding him tight in her arms as she put him to bed holding one of Kaylee's favorite stuffed animals.

She knew it was going to be a slow process in healing, but when she thought of her husband, she wasn't sure if there was anything she could do.

Words have barely been exchanged between the two. She was surprised they were able to even pull it together to even have a funeral.

Jax has spent the past couple weeks locked inside of Kaylee's room with weed and alcohol as therapy. He just drinks and smokes. He keeps himself in that room and doesn't leave. He only removes himself off the floor to piss and maybe head into the kitchen for something to stomach. Although his meager meals do nothing to absorb the alcohol he is poisoning himself with.

Alma isn't sure what would be the best method to approach. She isn't sure if she even wants to. She knows she is not strong enough to shoulder his grief along with hers. She already went through Ben's death alone, she had come to terms she would have to navigate the stages of grief for Kaylee alone.

She has made a schedule for herself. She gets up, showers, and tends to every single one of Nathan's needs. It's the best she can do. Worse, her baby boy had turned 7 and he had denied wanting even a cake for his birthday. She stopped looking at her phone. She unplugged the landline and stopped answering the door. She can't deal with the pity or other's nosiness.

Alma lingers at Kaylee's bedroom. She only meant to take a peek at the cold room. Everything has been left untouched since her passing. She finds her husband sitting up against the dresser as he looks ahead of him in a daze. He slowly brings a blunt to his lips. He inhales and exhales. She wants to scream at him that he is only tainting their daughter's room. They will no longer be able to smell the chamomile with a tinge of lavender that settles in the room due to Kaylee's favorite body wash products.

She bites her tongue. She doesn't want to start an argument. She doesn't want to say things in anger that neither will be able to take back. The only reason she moves from the door is because the alarm signals that someone has opened the front door.

Alma moves down the hallway and finds her mom stepping through the door with grocery bags.

Ann has been staying in Charming since Kaylee's passing. She is not exactly sure where her mother is staying, but she is grateful that her mom isn't inserting herself in the house. However, Alma has a feeling her mom is at her wits end from the radio silence. After all, despite how much Alma wants to curl in bed and shut out the world, she has Nathan to think about. He still needs at least one of his parents.

Her mom looks up at her with a grim smile. "I brought you guys some food."

Alma nods as she meets her the rest of the way. Alma notices her mom has forgone the expensive jewelry and makeup. Her face is bare and she is in a simple suede pink sweatsuit. A pair of white Adidas adore her feet.

Alma is silent as she puts away the phone. She knows her mom is surprised that the house isn't a mess. Or the downstairs isn't at least. In grief, every member of the house has been confined into a bedroom. Alma spends most of her time with Nathan in his room while Jax is in Kaylee's.

"Maybe you guys should come North with me. Get out of Charming for a bit." Ann hesitantly suggests.

"It's not going to change anything." Alma replies. Kaylee would still be gone when they returned. Her baby girl would still be dead.

"Tell me how I can help you, baby," her mother pleads.

"I don't think you can. Not with this." Alma tells her. She doesn't even know how to pick up the pieces for some type of living.

"You need to talk to someone. Losing Ben and now Kaylee…" her mother trails off before approaching her like a wounded animal. Her mom's hands cup her cheeks forcing her to look at her. "You can't be Wonder Woman all the time. You need a break. You can't forget yourself in all this." Her mom steps back and gives her some space. "I'll stay for a bit. Cook, clean up whatever. Just take a nap. Soak in the tub."

Alma inhales deeply and blows the hot air out. "Okay. Thanks, mom."

Ann waited until she heard the tub began draining and about 30 minutes after the master bedroom door shut before she went to complete her mission.

She had begun cleaning up the little dust that accumulated in the past week downstairs. She checked on Nathan, who had just woken up from a nap, fed him a sandwich with some chips, before he told her that he just wanted to draw in his room. Ann pressed a kiss to her grandson's head and let him be.

It was clear her grandson was trying to be strong. She admired her grandson, her only grandchild still living. That hurts. Knowing that she has outlived two children who didn't even make it past the age of 5.

She can't imagine the pain her daughter is feeling. She doesn't even know how to help her daughter cope with this loss. She can barely linger on that grief before it makes her breakdown. Right now, she can't do that. She needs to shoulder some of this pain for her daughter as her worthless son in law isn't doing shit.

She had walked past Kaylee's room and was hit with the smell of weed. She risked a glance inside and any grief was quickly replaced with anger.

She could understand his anger with Ben. He was not here to help or to be there to grieve with his family. Ann knows that grief can make people selfish, but she expected better of the man her daughter married. Yet, she doesn't know how she could forget how selfish these men were. She experienced the club's selfishness first hand.

So she had waited. She wanted her daughter to be asleep before she took matters in her own hands. It wasn't as if she went out of her way to purposely antagonize Jax. It was just she wasn't going to blindly stand on the sidelines and watch him treat her daughter with disrespect. She didn't want Alma to go through what she went through with Chico. It is a shame that Ann could overlook the ways that the men made money. After all, it had her and Alma living comfortably. Yet, the women and the control issues Chico had...Ann couldn't suffer through the emotional and mental abuse anymore.

For a time, she thought she could overlook the other women. She did, but Chico could never be quiet about it. He constantly threw it in her face he would be with croweaters in Charming, not just on runs. The worst betrayal was only finding out that Chico only tolerated her because of Alma. She was simply a good lay at the time. A consistent lay that got pregnant. In this world, she was shown how disposable women are to these men. She just couldn't understand how everyone was pissed at her for wanting to divorce Chico when he had been embarrassing her for years.

Maybe it is wrong of her to project those feelings onto Jax. However, it had been an open secret he was fucking around on her daughter when he got released. He did it right in front of her. Ann knows that the reason her daughter was staying was for the kids and the unfortunate circumstance of Jax being the one to provide financial security. She was only able not to get some more independence due to Luann, but unfortunately that was ripped away before it could fully develop.

Ann steps into the room where her son in law is shirtless and glad in some basketball shorts. The room smells like a distrilley and a hide out for skunks.

"Un-fucking-believable." Ann mutters as she steps forward. She stands in his line of step and he doesn't even blink, but stares blankly. "Get up."

He doesn't move or even flinch.

She bends down to look him directly in the eye. "Get the fuck up. You smell like shit and you're tainting your daughter's room with this shit."

"Fuck you." He whispers hoarsely.

"Get up," she sneers in disgust and his reflexes are too slow as she grabs the bottle of Jack and the ashtray on the floor with the burning joint. She moves quickly and Jax falls to his side as she runs out the room.

She makes it to the closest bathroom where she immediately slams the door with Jax hot on her tail.

She instantly pours the bottle down the drain. She jumps when Jax pounds on the door.

"Opening this fucking door!" He screams.

"Calm the fuck down and take a shower. You smell like shit." Ann replies back. The pounding continues and she winces as she hears a crack. "Jax, you're going to break the fucking door!"

"Well fucking open it!" He shouts.

Ann flushes the blunt down the toilet along with the ashes. She places the ceramic tray next to the empty bottle of whiskey. She swings the door open to meet the glare of her son in law.

"What the fuck are you even doing here?" He seethes as he enters the bathroom.

"Taking care of your family since you are incapable of doing shit that doesn't revolve around you." Ann bites.

Jax's body goes tense. He stands down in front of her, his lips set in snarl. "This is not the time for your bullshit."

"No, it's not time for your bullshit!" She snaps back. "You have a fucking wife and son that need you. Stop being so goddamn selfish! Your father would fucking disgusted with the sight of you right now."

This time Ann knows she snapped something in Jax as she even realizes a startled yelp when he smashes the glass bottle against the wall.

"Jax?"

Both she and Jax are still at the sound of Alma's voice at the end of the hall. Ann hurries out of the bathroom.

"You need to fucking get out of here," she tells her daughter.

Jax sits down against the tombstone next to the disturbed dirt next to it. It's too early for Kaylee's tombstone yet. Benjamin's is an upright monument with columns with red granite. They decided to get Kaylee a matching one with an angel.

And only a few rows away lies Jax's own brother, Thomas, and his father.

This is only the second time Jax has been to the cemetery. He hadn't never ventured to see Ben's grave until Kaylee's funeral. It didn't seem real. He felt he could ignore that loss. He could push it aside. He never allowed himself to feel it until it was too late - too much.

He has lost his little girl. His baby girl. The light in his life. She's gone. He has lost two children due to his fucking family flaw.

He bows his head as he finally lets the past months catch up to him. His body shudders as everything hits him. He doesn't even care that he is in public at this point. He just wants the pain to go away. He just wants his world to go back to the way it was.

He wants his children alive. He wants to be able to go home to his wife and not feel like a failure. He isn't even sure how to help his family anymore. He knows they don't need him. Alma hasn't even spoken to him after his episode with her mother and even then he isn't even too sure what the last conversation they had was between each other. All he knows is she steers clear of him.

Nathan hasn't come to him for comfort at all. His boy is usually wrapped up in his mother's arms and he can hear him crying for Kaylee in her arms. He feels useless in his own house. He could go to the clubhouse, but he doesn't want to be coddled by his mother or even by his brothers. He just wants the pain to stop. He wants everything to stop hurting, but he knows that it won't happen for a while. In fact, he knows this pain will never go away. He will have to learn how to carry it. He needs to learn how to manage it. He doesn't know how his mom and dad manage to deal when Tommy died. He doesn't know how they found a place to accept it. He doesn't think he can ever accept this loss without it paralyzing him.

He stands up from the grave and places a kiss on top of Ben's grave. He kneels down on the fistrubed dirt and places his hand where his little rests before moving to visit his brother and father.

He tries not to think about how half of his family is buried in the fucking cemetry.

He is making his way to his bike when he spots Piney standing by it waiting for him.

"So, how's the old man?" Piney greets.

Jax manages a small smile. "Still dead."

"You know, I hear that happens." He replies.

Jax nods his head and kicks his foot at some loose gravel. "What are you doing, cruising for widows?"

"No. Stopped by your house. Alma didn't know where you were. Figure this would be the next stop." Piney reveals. "You, uh, you want to bounce something off of me? I mean, I'm not as smart as J.T., but I've been known to have my moments."

Jax stands a little taller. "I'm good."

Piney frowns at him. "Jax... we don't, uh, we don't have shrinks or priests. You don't want to talk to me, that's fine. But you gonna talk to somebody in this club and work this shit out?"

Jax releases a shaky breath. "I lost two of my kids Piney. I don't think I can even find a direction to go in. I just end up in a place I never even knew could be this bad." Jax doesn't know how to even be a man with his grief. He can't look at Alma without feeling as if he failed her and their children. Jax wipes away the tears that have begun to leak out of his eyes. "I don't think we can come back from this, Piney."

Maybe Jax thinks is what is eating him up the most. He knows his marriage is slowly reaching it's expiration date. They barely survived losing one child. Hell, they were barely communicating and only just addressed that their relationship wasn't the same and then they lost Kaylee. Most marriages barely manage surviving the loss of one child, but they lost two.

Jax knows the demise of his marriage is solely on him. He was the first one to break away. He weakened the foundation. He also knows he has answer for his episode with Ann in the bathroom, but she never knew when to stop fucking pushing. It wasn't an excuse, but she could never let things be.

Piney grips his shoulders. "Hey, Alma loves you, Jax. You just need to talk to her. She'll understand. You both can work through this."

Jax shakes his head. He doesn't think love alone is enough to fix the space that has come between him and his wife. "I don't think talking can fix it this time, Piney."

He feels like a stranger in his own home. He was unsure if he was even welcomed in the bedroom. It's not like Jax is expecting any form of sexual intimacy, but at least physical. Alma has closed herself off from him. He knew it would be a bad move to even try to wrap her in his arms. So he stayed rooted on his side of the bed and laid on his back.

He thinks he may have even slept with his eyes open. He doesn't feel well rested. He blinks what little sleep he got from his eyes as he realizes the sound of Alma cleaning is what woke him. She seemed to have already taken a shower as her hair was leaving wet spots on her white t-shirt. She is throwing his clothes he had recklessly discarded into a basket while tidying up things around the room.

"Al…" he says unsure.

She looks up at him and holds the hamper against her hip. She doesn't say anything, but looks at him expectedly.

He sits up in the bed and licks his lips. "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"Alma, please…"

"So what, when you want to talk I have to listen?" She fires back.

"That's not...I didn't mean...we lost our daughter, Alma, how in the fuck is any parent supposed to react."

"Maybe not by drowning in weed or booze, or about tending to your son and wife. How about we grieve together!" Alma snaps.

"How when we can barely be in the same room together, Alma. You act like you want nothing to do with me. I can't turn to you. You don't want me."

"You pushed me away first." Alma states. "With Ben...you weren't here...I didn't hold it against you. I couldn't and even with how you...grieved...I pushed aside the hurt and humiliation you put me through. But I'm not going to be your fucking doormat."

Jax is at a loss for words. He doesn't know what to even say in fear of pushing Alma away. He knows sorry isn't enough at this point. He isn't stupid enough to not know where this anger is coming from. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Alma please…"

Alma looks away from him. He can tell there are things she wants to say. He wants her to say it even if it makes him scared, or things he doesn't want to hear.

Her shoulders drop and she looks at him with a blank expression. "We need to focus on Nathan, Jax."

He wants to ask what the fuck does that even mean. He wants to say a lot of things, but he bites his tongue.

"I love you, Alma."

Her blank expression cracks a little. She clears her throat. "I know."

She walks out of the bedroom.

Jax grabs the lamp on the stand next to the bed and throws it across the room.

Alma is standing near the door of the office of the garage as she watched Nathan and Jax exchange goodbyes. The boys are going on a run to Eureka for a blood drive. Alma also thinks it is a semi celebratory run that with Zobelle leaving without a trace the case against them was dropped even with the weapon charges. It seemed with Zobelle being a known rat could have something to help with that.

Alma does notice the goodbye between her boys is stunted and stiff. More so from Nathan and it reminds her that her son is very aware of the shift happening inside the house. It is the last thing she wants. Despite whatever is going on between her and Jax, she does not want that to leak down into his relationship with his son.

Still it doesn't change that Nathan witnessed how Jax did grieve alone while Nathan found comfort in her arms. And Nathan shouldn't have that choice of having to settle for the other parents because the other one was too deep in their own grief.

Alma feels a presence behind her and she knows its Gemma. Surprisingly, the biker matriarch's helicopter parenting had taken a step back. She thinks it is because Gemma knows what it is like to lose a child that it is best not to impose, but even then Gemma never lost two children in the span of a year.

She does appreciate the space.

Gemma wraps her arms around her shoulder. She thinks maybe Gemma is thinking the same thing as her that Jax shouldn't be on this run. Alma has a feeling about what is going to happen on this run. She knows since she rejected Jax in trying to communicate that she was the one to push him away this time. He will probably justify any action he makes.

Her breath catches in her throat and she feels as if she is being suffocated. She escapes Gemma's hold and rushes into the bathroom in the garage. She slams the door shut and leans against it. She feels as if she is having a panic attack.

She knows her marriage is over.

Her marriage is over.

Jax sighs at the burn of the whiskey traveling down his throat. He really didn't care for the run to Eureka. It was simple, but nothing he was itching to do. However, being on the road reminded him how much he loved riding. He still had a refuge. He thinks maybe when they get back that a nice long ride will do him some good to clear his head. He doesn't know why he didn't think of taking a ride by himself before. Maybe a roundabout would do him some good. He and Alma could get some space and clarity and figure out how to move forward with their relationship.

Jax leans back in his chair. He lights a cigarette and blows a ring of smoke. He smiles at a few croweaters before his attention is taken by his stepfather. Clay looks at him with furrowed brows, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses.

Jax raises an eyebrow at his President. "Can I help you?"

"I want to know what the fuck you're doing," Clay says lowly.

"Trying to enjoy the party," Jax replies as he takes another sip from his whiskey.

"You know what I mean," Clay answers.

Jax thinks his mom has put Clay up to this. Clay never intervenes on what he deems to be family business. Only when it interferes with club business will Clay open his mouth. Even then, outside of the two weeks following Kaylee's funeral, Jax has been at every church meeting and any task Clay hesitantly gives him. Sure, he sometimes has a glossy look in his eyes and his hair and beard aren't trimmed as he usually keeps it, but he isn't zoning out. He isn't compromising anything within the club. "If you have something to say, just say it."

"Your mom is worried about her family." Clay reveals, which isn't surprising to Jax. "She doesn't know everything about what you did when Ben passed. But we all knew…." Clay trails off. "Probably 40, 50 patches watching us right now. We represent the past, present and future of this club. Sure, the sons are a Democratic organization, but everybody knows what happens in charming sets the tone for every charter."

Jax furrows his brows. He is confused. "And what's happening in Charming?"

"You tell me. These men behind us, they love you. They respect you and they understand your grief. But they're also wondering what you're gonna do with it."

Jax clenches his jaw. "That's my business."

"No, it isn't. Some of these guys are old enough to remember what happened to your old man. How he... fell apart, lost focus when Thomas died."

"Yeah, well, I'm not my old man."

"I know that, but they don't. You gotta show 'em something."

"Show them fucking what?" Jax snaps. "I lost my son and daughter that has fuck all to do with the club."

"How you treat your family is," Clay fires back. "Don't forget Alma is a daughter of a First 9. Some won't take kindly how you're treating her."

"You got to be fucking kidding me." Now people want to care about Alma's lineage. Now they want to care about how members cash in on the run protocol. No one has no problem with Clay indulging knowing he is with his mother. "My marriage isn't club business."

"If people see you can't manage your family life they are gonna start doubting how you can effectively lead this club."

"So what, I'm supposed to wipe the tears away and be done grieving for my kids. It doesn't work like that."

Clay looks at him silently. "You need to make a decision son. You fix things with Alma. Get your head on fucking straight, or you let that hammer drop and be done with it."

Jax laughs as Nathan does another cannonball in the pool. It is just the two of them at the house. Alma had only told him that she was going to be out for the day. He wasn't really left with a choice in the matter of watching Nathan. He decided that he would skip out going to the club and spend the day with his son.

So they had immediately changed into their swimming trunks and Jax lathered on the sunscreen on his boy. He thinks this is the first time they have hung out just one on one since Kaylee's passing. Nathan has preferred the company of Alma to him.

It hurts, but Jax knows that it is because of his doing and his own grief that his son couldn't come to him. If anything, Jax knows how to deal with the loss of a sibling. He could try and help his son with that because they will never truly be over the loss of Kaylee. They just have to make room for the hurt.

Jax jumps from his place at the edge of the pool and wades over to his son where he is heading into the deep end. Jax knows Nathan is only waddling towards that end since Alma isn't here especially without some type of floaty.

It wasn't as if Nathan was a bad swimmer. He swan pretty good, but when Alma is in mama bear mode they all know not to go against her.

He follows his son as he treads the water. He admires the changes in his son. Outside of the blue eyes, Nathan is all Alma. All he can see is Alma in the shape of his face, nose, smile, and the color of their hair. Alma will tell him that Nathan has his personality, but Nathan is Alma with their quiet demeanor and how they think and contemplate their words and actions before speaking.

"Be careful," Jax warns.

"I know how to swim," Nathan remarks.

"Well you can explain that one to your mother if she sees you without a floatie."

Nathan stills and swims over to Jax. His arms wrap around his neck. It reminds Jax of when Nathan was little and still in a diaper. Nathan loved water and would always smack his reflection and release a tirade of giggles.

Jax holds his son close. He presses a kiss to his son's head. "Everything alright?"

"Are you and Mommy happy?"

Jax wasn't prepared for that question. "What makes you ask that?"

"No one laughs anymore."

Jax's heart tightens.

Nathan continues before Jax can respond. "I know with...Kaylee...but even before that you and Mommy didn't seem happy. Mommy always seemed sad."

Jax swallows the lump in his throat. "Well when Mommy is sad...we just have to tell her we love her and give her lots of hugs and kisses, yeah."

"Are you sad, Daddy?"

"Right now, no. You make me happy. You and your mom."

Nathan furrows his brows and pouts his lips. "I want you and Mommy to be happy."

Jax hikes Nathan up a little higher so he can look his son in his eyes. "No matter what, your mom and I love you very much."

"I love you too, Daddy." Nathan replies.

Alma had been surprised when Donna reached out to have a girls day together. There has been space building between the two. This time it is coming from Alma after the loss of Kaylee. She has been isolating herself from everyone while she tries to figure out the next move in her life.

They aren't doing much either. Donna's parents have taken the kids for the day and they are at Donna's house. Donna had suggested they go to an actual spa, but Alma didn't want to deal with the looks of pity in public. They have wine and multiple colors of nail polish on the table. Alma isn't sure what is playing on TV, but her and Donna have been giggling since the third glass of wine. Alma might be staying the night if she doesn't sober up a bit.

Alma had painted her nails a very vibrant hot pink with an equally bright yellow on her toes. She is currently waiting for her toes to dry.

"So are you still doing nails at Cara Cara?" Donna asks.

Alma takes a sip of her wine. "Yea and no. I don't go to the studio, but there are some girls that still come to me. Not all of them, but most."

"You should open your own place up." Donna suggests.

Alma smiles. "I'll hire you to be the receptionist."

"You would probably pay better." Donna comments.

"Just lately, I haven't thought about it. Just been focusing on Nathan."

"You also need to focus on yourself." Donna points out. "If you don't you are going to break."

"How are things for you?" Alma asks. Opie still has years left in prison and outwardly Donna has her head held high, but she knows that is not the case. Plus, even far away, Alma knows that Opie is still a present husband. Donna may be alone, but she is not going through all of this alone.

"I have my days, ya know. I'm sure I haven't been through the worst yet."

"But you have Opie though."

Donna gives her a sad smile. "You and Jax…"

Alma gives a bitter laugh. "Watering a dead flower."

"Al…"

Alma finishes her glass of wine. She really doesn't want to cry over her husband anymore. She knows her marriage is at the end. They both are prolonging the inevitable and are making each other miserable. Although the thing is, if she and Jax separate where would she go. How would she support herself and Nathan. She can't just leave. She can't just take Nathan away from his father.

"If you need help. I'm here for you and Nathan."

"I just love him so much. I guess my mother was right about why it wouldn't last." Alma tells Donna.

"Do you think you guys can't work it out?" Donna probes.

Alma leans forward and refills her wine glass. "I think the damage has been done. I don't think it would be fair to him if I stayed."

"If you need help, I'm here." Donna promises.

Considering the exciting day in the pool, Nathan had quickly fallen asleep after his dinner and shower. It left Jax to his own devices as Alma still wasn't home. He had washed the dishes and tidied up a bit. In cleaning, he found an empty journal and for some reason began writing as he sat in the living room to wait for Alma. He had been baring his soul into this journal about everything that has happened within the past year. He was writing to Nathan, Kaylee, and Ben about his greatest achievements and failures.

Although in the back of his mind and on his paper, he couldn't divulge into his doubts about his marriage has turned out. Alma's silence all day only highlighted it more. He didn't want to bug her as it was rare she enjoyed a day to herself. He just knows if she isn't home in 30 minutes he will call her cell.

He has just placed his pen down and is flexing his hand when the front door opens. He is standing up when he hears keys hit the floor along with a "shit". He moves towards the foyer and he finds Alma struggling to take her shoes off.

"Al?"

His voice startles her and if he wasn't so concerned he would've laughed with how she fell on her ass. Although Alma is giggling enough for the both of them.

"Is Nathan up," Alma hiccups.

Jax furrows his brows. "Are you drunk?"

Alma stands on her shaky legs and Jax can't really ever think of a time Alma got drunk. She would be on the edge, but nothing to have her stumbling.

"If I am?" She counters as she brushes past him to their bedroom.

He follows her confused. "Where were you?"

She makes it to their room and begins to haphazardly throw her clothes and accessories around the room. He follows her as he picks up her clothes and puts them into the hamper. She doesn't answer him and he watches as she strips down to nothing but to her bra and underwear. He helps take off her jewelry and places them in her jewelry case.

"Who were you with?" He presses.

Alma sighs and it seems any tipiness she was feeling had disappeared. "Do you want a divorce?"

Jax freezes and a lump forms in his throat. He was not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

"Couples barely make it through losing one child. We lost two." Jax can see the tears forming in her eyes, but she doesn't bother to hide the pain she is feeling. "We both don't need to be miserable."

"Are you miserable?" He asks her.

"I don't make you happy," she answers.

Jax feels guilty. With all the shit going on, he has neglected his best friend. Even if Chino is a six hour ride, he had promised to do in house visits at least once a month. He hasn't in a while. He knows that Opie won't give him shit for it, but it doesn't change the fact Jax has been a shit husband and friend lately.

He embraces his friend in a tight hug.

"Fuck, man, I'm so sorry. How you've been?" Opie asks him as they pull apart.

"I don't know man. Shit is just upside down and everywhere." Jax says as they take a seat at the table.

Opie is quiet for a bit. "What do we want to tackle first?"

Jax chuckles and shakes his head a bit. "I can't talk about the kids. I mean...I know...it's gonna take time. I'm trying to deal with it. I am finally dealing with it. I hate that you weren't there, ya know. You didn't get to say goodbye to Kaylee...you never got to meet Ben.." Jax stops as he can feel the tears building.

"Hey, man, I know. I know. We don't have to go there right now…"

"I think Alma wants a divorce." Jax reveals. Since Alma's drunken question, he hasn't been too sure of how to fix their marriage. He isn't sure how to show Alma that he wants them together. He loves her. He doesn't want to live in a world without her. He knows that he is the cause of her having doubts with them and herself.

"Did she say that?"

"She asked if it was what I wanted…" Jax licks his lips. "But if she had to ask me that...it's my fault where we are at where we are."

"What you do?"

"Treated her like shit since I came back." Jax states truthfully.

"Did you…?"

Jax nods his head regretfully. "I fucked up, Opie."

"She know?"

"Yeah. Had a few fights about it and other things. I just feel...we make an effort and it sets us back, or something happens. She's not happy, but I don't want to let her go."

Opie is silent and Jax knows he probably won't like what his friend has to say. "You think about leaving the house? Start back to square one. Just having space between the two of you can give clarity."

"With this life...I just didn't want Nathan to have to grow up in a broken home." Jax reveals.

With the Life he has, he wanted his children to have a strong family base. He may not be a good man, but he wanted to keep that shelter from his kids for as long as he could. He didn't want his kids to grow up like he did with knowing everything. He doesn't even know how much Nathan knows about club business. Sure, he entertains his son when he says that he wants to join the club, but his son didn't know the truth. He still had that child innocence that he knows is surely being stripped away.

"I think him seeing you and Alma slowly turn into shells of yourselves is gonna be worse than you two being apart and healthy. And it's not like you guys can't find your way back to each other."

"I just fucked up. I know I did." Jax says shaking his head. "I don't think I can fix this."

"When you go home, send Nathan to your moms, even if Alma is resistant, you force her to talk. You lay everything out. It might be best for you to stay at your moms than the clubhouse though."

Jax chuckles a bit. "I just...I hate myself for hurting her like this."

"You're human. Make mistakes, it is how we learn and grow from them. Marriage is hard. You both have gone through so much shit...maybe this is what you guys need so the damage isn't fixable at a certain point."

"I got you Mom!" Nathan shouts as he shoots his water gun directly on his mom's stomach. The water stain spreads and his mom huffs. His mom was mowing the front lawn and he was bored and found the stash of water guns.

"I don't know if I should be concerned about how you know your way around a gun so well." His mom states as she steps away from the lawn mower and looks down her shirt.

"I practice, Mom," Nathan says gleefully.

"Maybe a little too much," she adds.

"I miss playing with Uncle Opie." Nathan tells his mom. He really wanted to see his Uncle Opie with his dad, but he wasn't allowed to go for whatever reason.

"Well write a letter and set up a phone call date." His mom tells him.

"Yeah, but it's not the same." Nathan mutters.

Alma frowns and wraps her arms around her son. "I know, baby. Maybe when Donna goes to visit Uncle Opie we can see if you can go. Or maybe we'll make a trip with it. I'm sure Aunt Donna and your cousins would like that."

"Can Dad come?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not," she replies.

"Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn' I be?"

Nathan bites his lip. He may be young, but he notices things. Since his sister has passed away things have not been the same. He thinks even before that something was wrong with his parents.

He was used to his parents always kissing and hugging one another, but he hasn't seen them have any of those interactions in months. There isn't any laughter between them. He knows losing Ben and Kaylee has to do with most of it, but Nathan got better with the grief with his mom. She helped him. He just isn't sure how his parents aren't able to help each other.

"I just want you and Dad to be happy." He tells his mom.

Alma kneels down in front of him. He notices that she has the sad smile on her face that she has had even before Kaylee has passed. She cups his cheek and her thumb roams back and forth across it. "I love your Dad. I always will, but sometimes happiness and love aren't mutually exclusive."

"So loving Dad doesn't make you happy?"

"I will always love your Dad, but sometimes that love will make me feel sad or mad," she says with a scrunched nose that makes them both laugh. "I'm sorry things haven't been how they were. Things haven't been the same since Kaylee...and Ben, but I think things will get better. Not right away, but we just have to make a new normal for us."

"Does this new normal involve a new bike?" Nathan asks with a smile.

Alma pinches his cheeks. "You are just like your father."

"Excuse me?"

Both he and his mom jump at the voice of a woman who is standing in front of them. She has blonde hair that looks like honey. Nathan thinks she is really tall. Taller than his mom. But his eyes are drawn to her very pregnant belly.

"I'm looking for Jax Teller." The woman says.

. . .

Her name was Wendy. She was pregnant. Six months pregnant to be exact. Her belly was round and full. Wendy had told her that Jury was even kind enough to keep her working behind the bar since she couldn't glide on a pole anymore.

Wendy didn't have to tell Alma why exactly she was here. The belly and scared look on her face was enough. Alma had politely informed Wendy that Jax wasn't here and Alma gathered the appropriate contact info for the woman staying at the Ramada. Although, Alma wouldn't be surprised if Wendy made a pit stop to the clubhouse.

Alma is surprised she hasn't gotten numb to being humiliated by Jax. The only silver lining to any of this was Gemma was not busy and Alma had dropped Nathan off to spend the day with his grandmother.

Alma knows she wouldn't have been able to keep a poker face around her son. She wasn't even sure of what she wanted to do or going to do. She really wanted to kill her husband at this point. She just knows she didn't have any more tears left for her husband.

She is sitting in the living room smoking a blunt with a bottle of vodka open. She hates vodka, but right now it tastes like Kool Aid. She practically inhales the bottle when she hears Jax's bike pull into the driveway.

She waits in silence for him to enter the house.

"Babe?" Jax calls out as he enters the house.

She doesn't bother replying as he is going to smell the weed anyways. He seems to be following the scent as she hears his footsteps approaching.

"Are you smoking weed?" He asks in disbelief.

She doesn't bother with an answer. She can feel him besides her. His shadow looms over her. "And you're drinking." He takes a seat next to her. "What happened?"

Alma didn't say anything for a couple minutes. She doesn't know if she even has the right to be mad. She should've left when she first found out Jax was sleeping around. She stayed and now it is slapping her in the goddamn face.

She digs into the pocket of her cardigan. She places the paper that contains all the information to contact Wendy on the table and slides it over to Jax.

"She's looking for you." Alma tells him.

Jax furrows his brows and he looks down at the paper. It doesn't seem to click as he stares at the paper for a couple minutes. Although maybe Alma adding that she is from Nevada might have helped connect the dots.

"Babe -" Jax starts and goes to reach out to her, but Alma stands immediately and creates some distance. He immediately clamps his mouth shut.

"I want you out of the house. I don't care where you go or who you are with, but I want you gone. If you need something regarding Nathan, you can talk to me through Gemma. But don't call me, don't come here, don't do anything until I reach out."

"Alma, please let -"

"She's pregnant!" Alma shouts and Jax's freezes.

"It's not mine. I wore -"

"I don't care. You slept with her. She's pregnant and she's here." Alma folds her arms around herself. "I'll give you space to pack your clothes."

. . .

Two weeks Jax has felt like he has been in a constant state of panic. It's been two weeks since he has heard from Alma or even seen a glimpse of her. She had been deadly serious that if there was anything concerning Nathan that it was to go through his mom.

Even when he got Nathan on the Thursdays to Monday morning, his mom would drop him off or pick him up.

Jax had decided to stay with his mom as well. He didn't want to stay at the clubhouse. The guys were not saying much, outside of Piney, but were giving him looks of pity. He knew it was going to be any day now that Alma would serve him divorce papers.

And after a couple days, Jax had made a move to contact Wendy. He had been met with a very pregnant Wendy. She was claiming that he could be the father. He fits in her timeline of conception. He demanded a DNA test, but of course she wanted to wait until the baby was born for the non invasive test. Still, there was a chance that this baby could be his. Even if it wasn't the damage was already done.

"Sitting in your self pity isn't going to get your wife back."

Jax snaps his gaze up from his half empty coffee mug to look at his mother. He of course got a verbal ass whooping from his mother. He feared his mother was going to shoot him. He also had been surprised that she wasn't trying to help him mend his marriage, but he knows it would only piss off Alma more.

"Maybe we should get a court order demanding Wendy performs a DNA test now."

"I'm not going to do that." Jax says.

"Why not? Do you realize what is at stake here? Alma is going to leave your sorry ass."

"Thanks for the reminder, Mom. But I would rather not have to deal with an angry Wendy."

"Who gives a fuck about that bitch's feelings. She went out of her way to humiliate your wife in front of your son. She knew what she was doing when going to your house." Gemma snarls. "Besides from the way you are talking, it seems the kid is yours."

"It could be." Jax admits truthfully.

Gemma sighs. "Then the ink on your divorce papers is practically dry, Jax."

"You know I really don't need this right now, Ma."

"Oh I'm sorry, Alma didn't need to be humiliated and betrayed by her husband when she was mourning the loss of their children. See what happens when you bury your fucking problems in pussy that isn't your wife!" Gemma snaps.

Jax scowls at his mom and he doesn't get to reply as his phone starts vibrating. He sees it's Half Sack. Despite Alma's no contact order he had given the Prospect instructions to keep tabs on his wife.

"Yeah?"

"Jax, you need to get to the house."

Jax immediately stands. "Why what's going on?"

"I think she is leaving, Jax."

. . .

He wasn't surprised to see Ann there. He should have expected it. He doesn't even properly park his bike as he stands and gets off it. He can hear it fall down on the driveway and he removes his helmet and tosses it on the ground.

Nathan is sitting on the steps crying. Ann is packing an unrecognizable car he thinks could be a rental. Alma stands out on the steps not entirely shocked to see him. Any misery vanishes at the thought of Alma leaving and taking his son without any warning.

"So you were just going to fucking leave without saying anything. You were going to take my son!" He roars and he doesn't care about causing a scene.

"Nathan wants to stay here with you." Alma replies calmly. "I was gonna drop him off with you at your mom's. Lowen drew up some divorce papers."

Jax's heart drops to his chest. His anger instantly vanishes. "Alma, please, we can work this out. Just don't leave."

Alma steps down from the steps. "I have no choice but to leave you. Just please sign the papers that is all I want."

"Alma, please…" He begs.

He can tell Alma is trying to fight back the tears. "There isn't anything you can do or say, Jax. I don't want to end up hating you more. When I get settled we can make arrangements for Nathan. Just keep him safe."

She turns away from him and she kneels down to face Nathan. He can't hear what she is saying, but his little boy begins to cry harder.

"Please, don't go, Mom. Just stay please," Nathan wails as Alma holds their son close. Nathan's cries lower, but his body is shaking from the effort. Alma presses a kiss to his head and holds him before she stands.

Alma turns to him. Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'll call Nathan when I get settled."

"Where are you going?" Jax asks her. "You don't need to leave, Alma. You can have the house -"

"Charming isn't my home anymore Jax. You made sure of that."

Jax watches as Alma reaches her mom, who finally closes the trunk of the car. Jax is surprised Ann isn't jumping for joy or doing cartwheels. Alma doesn't look back as she gets into the passenger side of the door. The car begins pulling out of the driveway when Nathan gets up screaming for them to stop. The car stops and Alma opens the door.

Nathan stands in front of him. His blue eyes red from tears. "I want to go with Mom."

Jax doesn't bother hiding his tears as he bends down and embraces his son tightly. He cannot deny the boy the right to want to leave with Alma. "You take care of your mom, alright."

Nathan holds him tightly. "I love you, Dad."

Jax presses a kiss to his son's head. "I love you too. You and your mom."

Nathan loosens his grip and Jax lets his son go. He watches as Alma holds Nathan tightly before she helps him into the backseat of the car.

Jax watches his family drive away.

He falls to his knees and he doesn't care who sees him.

#soa #soa fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #jax teller #jax teller x oc #jackson teller

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lovequinn · 3 years

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remember when everyone used to do those “year in review” blog posts and shit on new years eve? i’m gonna do one of those again!

sometimes i forget this is a tumblr BLOG and i can write whatever long shit i want and not just post pretty gifs so let’s GOOOO end of the year blog entry:

2020 was definitely SOMETHING. it was a nightmare. it was like an acid trip fever dream that never ended (and it still hasn’t! who knows what’s left to happen!)

but you know what? while everything was going to shit and i was forced to sit alone with myself for more cumulative time than i’ve EVER wanted to, i learned a lot. and i feel like i’ve come out the other side in such a good mental space that i’m genuinely proud and want to share a bit.

some things stayed the same obviously. i still have a firm belief that taco bell is gourmet cuisine and found a way to continue eating it even in lockdown. i still have more funko pops than i know what to do with (seriously, i moved into a new apartment MONTHS ago and still haven’t managed to unpack them all). i still get calls from my grandparents asking about @erikahenningsen because she’s still their favorite grandchild.

a lot is different, though. i lost my job that i love so dearly. not only that, but so did many of my loved ones. our entire industry is gone. the art form i'm passionate about is on an indefinite pause. instead of going out and seeing friends a few nights a week, i’ve gotten to see them just a handful of times in twelve months. the two big events that i look forward to every year were cancelled. i ate thanksgiving dinner from boston market alone on my couch.

when bad things happen, i have always had a tendency to shut down and cower until they get better. i’ve never been good at seeing the glass half full. but for the first time this year, i tried.

i wanted to feel more comfortable in my own skin, so i cut ten inches of my hair off...and instantly felt better.

i tried out some new fashion that a lot of people thought was stupid, but you know what? it made me feel good.

i struggled going into this year with some unhealthy weight loss that came from depression, and it caused a lot of physical and mental health problems. but i rediscovered my love of hiking and mountain climbing over the spring and summer and started cooking new things that interested me, and i’m now in the most healthy physical shape i’ve been in since high school and achieved that in a positive way.

i realized that if i can’t use one skill for the time being, i might as well use another. so i pivoted from theater to honing my communications experience and now have an awesome recruitment/pr position at an ivy league university, and i’m learning so much from the people i work with.

finally, FINALLY, i got a proper diagnosis re: my mental health and while it isn’t easy to handle all the time (or most of the time), it is INCREDIBLY comforting to know what is going on and to be seeking the right kind of treatment that will make it a bit easier.

the hardest thing i had to recognize this year was that i am not obligated to keep myself in a toxic environment to placate other people. if certain relationships are genuinely harming your mental health, you do not have to stay in them, no matter who they are. not everyone has your best interests at heart even if they say they do, and not every friendship is meant to last, and that’s okay. i snapped and stopped putting energy into people that refused to put that same energy back, and while that means the people i’m leaving this year with aren’t all the same that i started it with, in the long run that has made all the difference for my happiness.

on the contrary! i was faced with the fact that sometimes the people you thought were the most selfish, evil people can grow just like you have. i was able to reconnect with someone who hurt me immensely last year and get a genuine apology, and worked through a lot of the aftermath with them. you can’t forget and take away bad things that happened, but you can choose to heal and move forward if given the option and i’m glad to be working on rebuilding a friendship that i thought i would never get back.

i also learned that when you think you’ve hit rock bottom: you haven’t. it can always get worse. but the worse it gets, the more likely it is that things will get better soon.

there are obviously a lot of things that happened in 2020 where the glass absolutely cannot be seen as half full. none of this personal growth shit is worth the tragedies that happened, please don’t think that’s my point here; i would trade it all if i could.

but it at least helps to feel like, if nothing else, i can say i ended 2020 as a better version of myself than how i started it.

wishing all of you a happy new year, and here’s hoping 2021 isn’t terrible.

#personal #now if you will excuse me i am going to ~attempt~ to make fondue

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mpxvalentina · 3 years

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A Baby?!?! {Solo}

Of all things Valentina thought she would hear from her sisters before the holidays, an announcement of her becoming an aunt was not one of them. Her half sister, Paloma, who was closest to her in age and always loved Valentina even when her family ostracized her, called her the week after Halloween. Her older sister was beaming and glowing, despite also looking exhausted beyond belief. Apparently, Paloma had just given birth… to twins! Valentina was beyond excited to have become an aunt to two beautiful little girls. Paloma protested when Val offered to come back to San Diego and help her out while her spouse went back to work for a few weeks. Val wasn’t the best at dealing with babies but she was willing to learn for her nieces. She even promised her sister that she would play nice if their mother came around while she was staying with them.

The first few days at Paloma’s were both terrible and wonderful at the same time. Valentina learned she could handle the screaming and crying at all hours but her sister could not. Apparently, Paloma’s patience was growing thin trying to get her twins on a schedule and she was beyond stressed out. So, it was a good thing Val had arrived when she did to help out. Val got along with her sister’s spouse wonderfully, the two having a dance background in common helped break the ice since they’d never met before. She also scored some brownie points for being nice to them at all, which did not surprise Val. The younger woman was worried for her sister when she found out her fiancé was non-binary. Their parent’s old fashioned ways and just overall bad attitude had them treating them quite poorly. Val didn’t care however and made sure to treat them like family, because if anyone could understand being treated like shit by their parents - it was Val.

After a week they’d gotten into a pretty good schedule and Valentina learned she liked babies more than she thought, or at least she liked her nieces. However, as if to remind her that she can never have anything nice when it comes to her family, her mother comes flying in like the Wicked Witch of the West. Yebin was not happy to see her youngest daughter in Paloma’s home, holding one of the twins and playing with her with a smile. Valentina kept her promise to her sister that she would keep her mouth shut and chose to simply pretend her mother wasn’t there. Yebin however, made no such promise and quickly went into insulting Valentina and berating her for tainting her precious grandchildren with her devilish ways. All the youngest could do was roll her eyes and continue playing with the baby in her arms.

There were many things she wanted to say to her mother but, she kept those to herself for the sake of her sister and the precious baby now sleeping in her arms. Yebin was not happy to hear that Valentina had been staying there over a week and even went so far to comment about how their father would be very unhappy to see her holding his grandchild. Eventually, by the end of the day, it was Paloma’s spouse that came to Valentina’s defense and asked Yebin to leave and not return until Val had returned home. Valentina thanked them that night before bed with a tearful embrace, no one other than Paloma had ever defended her from her mother.

The next week went by with no other incident and Val even got to see and spend time with her other two sisters. All of them catching up while entertaining the twins, the four of them glowing and happy to be together again. Val had her issues with each of their sisters but, times like this helped her forget about those problems. Sure, things would probably go back to the way they were before after she went back to Mount Phoenix but for now, she was enjoying the good times.

Her last day at Paloma’s she kissed her sister and both her nieces goodbye and hugged her sister’s spouse, giving them one last thank you and a promise to keep in touch.

If you ask what Val’s favorite part of her trip was… She’d probably tell that as her taxi pulled out of her sister’s driveway, her adoptive father’s chauffeur pulled in next to her and she got a upper hand by rolling down the window and giving him a salute with her middle finger. A perfectly polished, red, middle finger.

#scatter brain ;; self para #[ aka what she was up to while I was on hiatus ]

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heyyyharry · 5 years

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Chapter 12: Daddy Issues

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which Y/N is locked out of her flat with the wrong Styles.

Word count: 3.7k

Chapter 11: Needy - Y/N hates herself for being so needy.

Wattpad link

[ANNOUNCEMENT]: I have an exam on Friday, September 13 so I won't be able to update next week (Wednesday, September 11). The next flatmate chapter will be posted on Wednesday, September 18.

- Love, Allie :)

Harry was in a bad mood today. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to Y/N, because he was rarely in a good mood when she was around, but this time she felt differently. At first, she didn't pay attention to him when he walked in looking like he was attending a funeral. She guessed it must've had something to do with the exam he'd had earlier today. It was very unlikely though. He'd never done poorly on an exam let alone failed one. So she eliminated that possibility and told herself to stop second guessing.

"What the fuck?!"

Y/N heard the scream and dashed into the kitchen, only to burst out laughing when she saw him holding the milk carton with milk dripping down his chin. She was going to make a funny comment when he snapped all of a sudden, "why the fuck did you put spoiled milk in the fridge?!"

"So you'd stop drinking my milk without asking." She stuck her nose up, crossing her arms.

"You're a psycho," he muttered and wiped his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.

She watched in amusement as he tossed the carton into the bin and cleaned up the mess he'd spat on the kitchen table. It was hilarious, yet just a harmless prank. The normal Harry would just laugh it off and say something like "I've underestimated you." But the Harry standing in the kitchen with her right now didn't even move his lips. He had the same frown on his face like the moment he walked in and then walked right past her, out of the kitchen. That was when it dawned on her that this wasn't something she could just ignore. But why was he like this? What had happened today?

He didn't have dinner with her that night. She'd eaten alone many times before when he was out with his friends, but tonight she felt truly lonely. Without anyone to rant about her day to, she finished fast, cleaned the dishes on her own and spent the next half an hour pacing back and forth outside his room, wanting to knock, but in the end, she decided to go to bed. Maybe he'd feel better in the morning, she thought while lying awake until she was too drained to keep her eyes open.

"Hey, love, can I go to Dustin's bachelor party tomorrow night?"

Y/N widened her eyes at her husband who casually poured a glass of water and settled himself at the kitchen table.

"Who's Dustin?" she asked, pulling out a chair to sit down in front of him.

"My roommate in college." He gave her a shrug. "You know, back when I was living at the dorm."

She looked at him funny. "You're still friends with him?"

"Nope. I just ran into him the other day, we went out for a few drinks and I got invited to his bachelor party," he said smugly and lifted his glass. "What can I say? Your husband is irresistible."

The way his eyebrows waggled made her laugh. "Okay, but you're a grown man, babe. You don't have to ask for my permission to go to a party."

"Are you sure?" he asked, resting his chin on his knuckles. "Because bachelor parties always have strippers and all that shit?"

She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow. "Are you trying to make me jealous?"

"Well, are you?" He mirrored her expression, grinning from ear to ear.

"Very." Y/N scrunched up her nose and reached across the table to stroke his head. When she stood up, however, he hugged her waist and pulled her in so he could kiss her stomach again and again. It was his ringtone that broke them apart.

"Your dad's calling."

"Just ignore him."

"Harry!" Her mouth fell open when he muted the call and forced her down on his lap. "What if it's an emergency?!"

"It's probably just work," he mumbled, pressing his hands flat against her back as she straddled his waist. She almost got carried away by him nuzzling her breast, but the buzzing of his phone was hard to ignore.

"Just answer the phone, H." She breathed.

Still, he shook his head unapologetically. "One of our investors pissed him off, and as usual, he blamed me for it. It's nothing serious."

"Are you sure?"

Harry didn't answer as he put his phone on airplane mode and faced it down on the table. "There," he said with a grin. "Now...where were we?"

When Y/N woke up the next day, Harry had already left their flat. She completely understood that he didn't want to talk to her, but she determined to get a word out of him when he returned tonight and maybe apologize. Now all she could do was try to stay positive and carry on with her morning routine.

Y/N always took too long in the shower, yet she could never begin the day without one. This morning, she'd told herself to spend only fifteen minutes in there. Now it'd been thirty, and she was still in the middle of rinsing off her body while belting out the chorus of her new favorite song.

But then,

"FIRE! Y/N! FIRE!"

The girl turned off the shower and poked her head out to make sure it was actually her flatmate's scream that she'd heard.

"THE BUILDING IS ON FIRE, Y/N! WE NEED TO RUN!"

Fire?!

Y/N stumbled out of the shower, holding her breath. She only managed to wrap a towel around her dripping body before rushing to the living room. Harry was nowhere to be seen but the front door was wide open. He had run before her! Of course, he left me here to die! she thought and dashed out of the flat.

But the hallway was...empty?

Peaceful, even.

Wait, if the building had been on fire then why wasn't there an alarm?

She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw, one hand gripping the towel, the other smacked against her forehead. Damn it!

"Wow, you were fast. At least wait for my fire alarm."

His laughter pierced through her brain and she turned around to find him standing with his back against their door, the Bluetooth speaker in his hand, and the assholest smirk on his stupid handsome face.

She marched straight toward him and pushed him hard. "What is wrong with you?! Why are you such a dick?!"

"You only say the word 'dick' when you're with me, love. I feel special."

There he was, the smug bastard she always knew.

"That was for trying to poison me," he said when she groaned into her palm. "Nice towel by the way. Baby blue looks good on you."

A part of her was still aware of the fact that she was standing in the hallway with only a towel on, but the rest of her was glad he'd stopped being mad at her. So she said nothing and pushed him aside to go before anyone saw her like this. But as she turned the handle, the door wouldn't open. She tugged at it several times, more violently and desperately, only to look up and see the same horrified look on his face.

"Please tell me you have the key," she muttered, knowing already that he certainly did not have the key, yet for some reason, she still felt shocked when he shook his head and put the speaker on the floor.

"Are you joking?! I'm naked, Harry!"

"Calm down, I'll call the locksmith!" Harry grumbled as he searched through his contact list, but then smiled at how his flatmate was pacing back and forth in only her towel.

"Don't worry, you look hot," he said, and motioned that his mouth was zipped shut when she shot him a leer.

Y/N couldn't believe it.

This morning when her husband left the house, she had repeatedly reminded him to not to forget his key, but now it was she who got locked out of their flat. She'd tried calling him, but he'd had his phone turned off. He never had his phone turned off when he was out and she was home alone, so she guessed all the guys at the party were asked to so and Harry didn't have a choice. Now all she could do was patiently wait for the locksmith to come for her rescue.

Sitting on the floor with her head in her hand, Y/N was too busy cursing herself in silence to hear the sound of the lift and the footsteps coming her way. It was only until the man cleared his throat loudly that she finally lifted her face, and her eyes widened at him immediately.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" Devlin asked in concern.

Y/N frantically got to her feet as she straightened her dress and stuttered, "I-I left my key inside, but it's okay, I already called the locksmith."

"Where's Harry?"

"He's at a party and not answering his phone."

The answer made the man in the suit sigh as he whispered, "typical Harry..."

"No, no!" Y/N shook her head fast. "It's a bachelor party so maybe they made him turn off his phone. He's very responsible."

Devlin stared at her for a whole second before releasing another sigh, yet he remained quiet. Meanwhile, she stood still and studied his expression. She was waiting for him to speak, but also second-guessing what he was going to say next and why he was here.

"Do you know why he hasn't answered any of my calls?" He asked.

"No, sir..." she cautioned.

That answer made the man frown even harder. "What's the point of having two children when they're never there when you need them?"

Y/N almost blurted out that Devlin hadn't been there for Harry a lot of times too, but considering the fact that this man absolutely loathed her, she thought she should just keep her mouth shut.

"How are you and the baby? Good?"

The question froze her to the spot. She didn't expect him to ask about her and her baby because he hadn't said a word to congratulate them when Harry broke the news to him. But on second thought, if she hadn't been carrying his grandchild, maybe this conversation would never have lasted for more than two sentences.

"Yeah, we're good." She faked a beam, not knowing how to feel, but that concern soon slipped her mind.

The way he stood with his head hung low and hands in his pocket reminded her of Harry whenever he was nervous about something. The thought made her smile, but her father-in-law couldn't see it so he just said, "can you tell Harry that I came over?"

"What's wrong?" Her voice stopped him just as he was about to walk off. "If it's so important then you can just tell me and I'll help you speak to Harry."

Slowly, he turned around and glanced back up to meet her eyes. The Styles men were the same after all. Just like his son, Devlin couldn't say no to this young woman.

After pondering for what seemed like two seconds, he released a shaky breath. The reluctance was still etched on his face, but eventually, he gave her a nod, pinching his forehead.

"I caught my wife cheating on me."

"Let's talk about something fun!" Harry suggested as his face lit up, but all he received from Y/N was her passive aggressive silence.

They were sitting on the floor and she was naked, probably not the best time and place for a heart-to-heart conversation. But Harry believed he would've already died from boredom and silence by the time the locksmith arrived.

"I have nothing to say to you," she grumbled, crossing her arms, not looking at him.

She was mad, so mad that Harry could imagine smoking coming out of her ears. But there was something about the way she looked right now that made the butterflies in his stomach go insane. He bit his lip, holding back a smile as she kept adjusting the towel so her breasts wouldn't spill out. Why would she even bother to do that? He wouldn't mind. It would help his imagination the next time he shamelessly jerked off to her when he was alone. Jesus Christ, you're one fucked up bastard, said the voice in his head as he shrugged off the thought he would never say aloud and pulled his shirt over his head.

"What are you doing?" She almost jumped away from him but he was quick to catch her arm.

"Here." Smirking, he handed her his white t-shirt. "Put this on."

Y/N stayed utterly still as she stared at him like he'd just committed a horrible crime, and he couldn't help but chortle at the priceless reaction. "It's getting really hard for me to speak to you when you look like this. Please put this on."

Her cheeks reddened in a heartbeat. She parted her lips, wanting to ask what he really meant, but she was too shy to speak so she stayed quiet and put on his shirt. The way he was smiling at her afterward made her feel like she was more naked than before. Her arms automatically came wrapped around herself like a shield as she questioned, "what's so funny?"

"Nothing." He sounded nearly breathless. "You just...look really good in my shirt."

"Oh..." Her face dulled for a split second before she could say "thank you."

Tucking a strand behind her ear, Y/N stared at her feet to avoid eye contact at all costs. She merrily replayed those words inside her head, until she remembered that he'd probably said the same things to all the other girls. Who knew? Some of them might even have his shirts in their closet. Lending a girl his shirt and telling her she looked good in it probably didn't mean anything to him. Now she hated herself for forgetting that he flirted just for fun and for falling for his words every single time. How embarrassing.

"Are you still mad at me?" Harry asked when he saw the way she frowned.

"No."

"I can tell when you lie," he snorted. "Look, I'm sorry. I know that was a bit mean."

"A bit?!" She suddenly snarled at him. "Thanks to you I'm sitting in the hallway, half-naked—"

"Hey, hey, we're both half-naked now."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "You're a horrible person."

"So are you."

"I'm not!"

"You made me drink spoiled milk, Y/N. My stomach is weak, I could've died."

"So I guess we're even now?"

"I guess so." He flashed her a grin and offered his hand. "Truce?"

To his disappointment, she shook her head. "Only if you tell me why you were acting strange last night?"

"I wasn't—"

"Don't deny it. I can tell when you lie," she repeated exactly what he'd told her earlier as she scrunched up her nose. "Just tell me what was bothering you. Was it the exam?"

"No, I nailed the exam," he spoke calmly.

"Then what?!"

The calmer he was, the more frustrated she became.

Y/N couldn't explain why she was like this. All she knew was that it bothered her when he wasn't himself, when he raised his voice at her for no reason, or when he wasn't speaking to her at all. She was desperate to make sure he was alright, that he didn't have to keep his sorrows to himself. Who would do that for someone they claimed to hate?

No, wait.

The actual question had to be: Did she hate him, at all?

"It's nothing," his voice freed her from her confusing thoughts, and so she decided to put them aside to focus on what was more important.

"You wouldn't like to know," he said with a long sigh.

"What does that even mean?" she uttered. "You owe me the truth after all this. If you don't tell me the truth I swear I'll...well, I'll..."

She didn't know where she was going with that, but thank God, he only laughed and patted her knee to tell her to calm down. The simple gesture froze her to the spot, but it also saved her from humiliation.

He took a deep breath as his lips curved into a small smile. "My dad's getting married this weekend," he told her at last.

Y/N pursed her lips as her face contorted. "And you just found out yesterday?"

"Yup. And you know what the worst thing was?"

She shook her head.

"It was his assistant who'd invited me to his wedding." He laughed wryly. "Man, I wished it'd been a prank but, sadly no."

He was doing that again, the whole 'I laugh at my problem so no one else could' thing. If only he knew she wanted nothing more than to pull him into a hug, but all that she was allowed to do was rub his shoulder and say, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he gentled. "I was mad for just a while but I shouldn't have put it out on you."

"It's okay. I wish you'd just told me," she said, holding their eye contact intensely.

"Were you actually worried about me?" His voice went soft, like the gaze he was giving her.

She wished he would stop looking at her like she meant the whole world to him, when she knew that she meant nothing more than just a girl he had to live with. But then again, she couldn't resist him. She craved for him to keep staring at her this way until the day she died. That would've been the best way to kill someone, staring at them like you loved them until they couldn't take it anymore.

Ignoring the thought, she answered, "yeah, the next time you're mad...just...you don't have to tell me the reason...just let me know you're mad and I'll leave you alone."

"Don't leave me alone."

When he said that, it took her a couple of seconds to realize those were the actual words coming from his mouth. She held her breath in anticipation as he leaned in...closer...and closer...until they were just one breath away. But instead of doing what she'd wished he'd done, he rested his head on her shoulder, completely unaware of how fast her heart was racing for such intimacy. This was so new, yet so familiar, and now she was sitting like a rock as she feared he might pull away if she moved.

The locksmith arrived half an hour later, cursing the traffic as he stumbled out of the lift and mentally prepared an apology. But then he stopped, rooted to the spot as he found two half-naked college students sitting outside their flat, both were asleep, her head on his shoulder.

"Can you believe it?" Devlin huffed and combed his fingers through his hair as his head tossed back against the wall behind them. "A man my age, got cheated on by his second wife. What a joke."

Y/N had been listening to her father-in-law pouring his heart out for what seemed like half an hour already. Now it was time for her to speak her mind although her thoughts might not be something he would want to hear.

"You shouldn't be blaming yourself for what she did. You've done the right thing by asking for a divorce. It doesn't matter how old you are, you should never forgive a cheater."

He didn't reply, but judging from the way his expression softened, she could tell that her words had affected him, a little if not a lot.

"Do you mind if I ask you something personal?"

His question caught her off guard, still, she said no.

"Have you ever thought about what you would do if my son cheated on you?"

"Not anymore."

"So you have." He nodded once as if to agree with his prediction. "Tell me, what would you do then?"

"I would leave him," she said without reluctance. Then came a long pause as her eyes fell back to her feet. "But...that would probably hurt me more than him cheating on me. He's the only love I've ever known, I wouldn't know what to do without him. Guess I'd be half-dead, half-alive."

Devlin took time to think before he spoke, "you really love him, do you?"

"I do," she asserted. "But do you?"

The question, though simple, took him by surprise. "Of course I do," he said. "He's my son. He was the first person I called when I found out about my wife's affair."

"He should always be the first one you call, not only when you're sad or angry or hopeless." Y/N's words hit Devlin harder than he was willing to admit, but she neglected his reaction and continued anyway, "call him when you're happy, call him when you're tired, call him when you see something that reminds you of him, or just...call him to say you're proud of him and that you miss him and you love him. You don't know how much it'll mean to Harry."

She wasn't sure what to expect as a reaction, but it certainly wouldn't be him pulling her into a hug. Her whole body stiffened, only to relaxed all at once as she finally hugged him in return.

"My grandchild is lucky to have such good parents," Devlin whispered in her ear. And Y/N swore she could feel that same dimpled smile she'd always seen on her husband.

Half an hour later, Harry came home, slightly tipsy and smelling like those frat parties he'd wasted his youth on. He hadn't planned on drinking so much if at all, but they wouldn't have let him leave early had he refused to drink. He cursed himself as he stumbled out of the lift with an apology he'd already drafted in his head. But then he stopped, feeling shocked and amused at the same time as he found his wife and his father sitting outside their flat, both were asleep, her head on his shoulder.

#flatmate!harry #harry styles fluff #ceo!harry #dad!harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagines

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redbeanboi · 4 years

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Excerpt from “Un Sospiro”

Sneak peak at my upcoming Giorno/Reader fic titled Un Sospiro, for my dear beanie babies!!! A Business Before Pleasure spinoff fic.

Fic summary: They say that “Mozart makes babies smart,” but who’s going to tell Giorno that Mista accidentally got him tickets to listen to Franz Liszt for two hours?

Arranged marriage awkwardness galore!!! Title taken from one of my most favorite piano pieces of all time, Franz Liszt’s Concert Etude No. 3 in Db Major, better known by its nickname “Un sospiro.”

“There,” you sighed, finally satisfied with the arrangement you’d set for the toys in the nursery.

Truth be told, the baby was not born yet and they wouldn’t be playing with the toys until they were at least several months old, but something compelled you to organize them by color and height as soon as you returned from your visit to the doctor that morning. Plucking at a plush elephant’s ear, you hummed. Yes; this would do. For now, at any rate.

“Finally happy with those ridiculous stuffed toys?” your father asked dryly over the phone. “I’m sure they’ve gotten enough attention from you for today.”

“You’d be doing the same if you were here,” you shot back into the mouthpiece. “And it’s called ‘nesting’ for a reason, Patri.”

“Oh yes, of course. How silly of me to forget,” he sighed. “But I do hope this child will be appreciative of your attention to detail… But… do you need any other toys? Or perhaps I should send one of those silly contraptions that they make—oh, I can’t remember what they’re called. High chairs?”

“You seem rather dedicated,” you taunted. “Excited, even.”

“Of course I am. I never did meet my first grandchild.”

*******

“One day, you’ll present your son—my own grandson— to the rest of the Commission. He’ll be treated like royalty, that is for certain—”

“What if I have a girl?” you asked.

He laughed. “You and your husband will probably have boys and girls, and plenty of them—”

“And what if I only have girls?”

“It’s highly unlikely.”

“But what if?” you wondered.

“Well… In that case, I suppose Don Giorno would appoint Signore Mista as his successor until another suitable candidate came along.”

“And then everyone would hate me.”

“No one could ever hate you, trisoru,” your father insisted over the phone.

“My husband would,” you replied quietly.

“Why would you say that?”

It would fare better for you if you changed the subject. “Nevermind what I said,” you dismissed, plopping down into an armchair in defeat.

Giorno had been distant even earlier on in your marriage, and truth be told, little had changed since you announced your pregnancy to him. But several months earlier, you were convinced that your relationship with Giorno was beginning to improve. Perhaps he had felt unease by your aloofness, for Giorno had taken it upon himself to reach out to you with small gestures—attempts at conversing with you and becoming better acquainted with you, presenting you with gifts and a vase full to bursting with flowers every week and, most importantly, taking you out to dinner and spending time with you.

In just a few weeks, you managed to share a few stories from your days as Don Vittorio and Cosa Nostra’s principessa, relating each tale with a level of comfort that surprised even your husband. Wishing for more, and perhaps thinking that it was time you fulfilled your end of the agreement, you suggested to Giorno that you try to… well, have children. And while Giorno agreed that it was time to start a family, you hadn’t expected him to withdraw once you announced your pregnancy to him.

Naturally, the event had erased all of the progress you’d made. Suddenly Giorno was too busy to even eat dinner with you, and when you proposed he attend your doctor’s visits with you, he had immediately offered one of his own men to accompany you in his stead. All of this you related to your father, and time and time again, you were told that it was all a simple misunderstanding.

But it still could not explain why Giorno kept his distance or remained awfully cold when before he expressed an earnest effort to establish some relationship with you.

“Is this about that business with your husband shying away?”

Frustrated, you pushed yourself to your feet, hobbling past the bassinet and towards an open window. You could use some fresh air.

As you finally reached the window, you leaned against the sill and inspected your appearance through a mirror several paces away. Moments like this were clear reminders of the fact that you were carrying your first child; even at sixteen weeks, it was rather obvious that you were soon to be a mother. Your waist had thickened significantly, and at times it was easier to simply slip into whatever loose fitting clothing that you had on hand. There was no need to buy new clothing, however, not until the next visit. Most of your clothes fit rather well still. That will change soon enough, you reminded yourself. You were nearly halfway through the pregnancy, though you often forgot that crucial detail yourself.

Nearly there, you thought, sighing. Sixteen weeks on your own thus far—and all with no family, no friends, and certainly no husband at your side. Would it always be like this?

“Can’t I stay with you until the child’s born?” Giorno would hardly notice your absence.

“You should stay with your husband, who, need I remind you, is the father of this child. He’s your family now.”

A shot in the dark, you noted bitterly.

“Y/n?” asked your father.

“Yes?” you asked, still staring into the mirror, half-listening.

“I don’t know your husband terribly well, but from the times I’ve spoken with him over the phone… I’m sure he doesn’t bear any ill-will or hatred.”

“I should hope not,” you joked lightly. “We did manage to get this far along…”

“Perhaps you ought to speak to him. He might not even realize what he’s done.”

Finally you pulled away from the sunlight, sighing as the curtain fell back against the window and certain you had found peace when you saw a shape move in its reflection. The drapes were still swinging when you spun on your heel and glanced at the door, which to your surprise, hung ajar. Had you forgotten to close it?

Whatever myths people made when it came to pregnant women and their memories, you were almost certain that the door was securely shut the moment you entered, having followed the same procedure you carried out whenever you called your father. The last thing you ever needed was for someone to overhear you share a few laughs with Don Vittorio. Maintaining your image as a dignified Signora was of the utmost importance to you, after all.

You were still pondering the question of whether you’d left the door open when your gaze fell upon a familiar tube of French hand cream sitting on the table just beside the door, barely used since the doctor’s visit this morning, when… when I had asked Don Giorno to hold onto it for me.

For several seconds you stood there, gaping at the door until you took slow, leaden steps towards it. You swallowed hard and prayed that it had just been your imagination. It was the wind! you told yourself. Just your silly pregnancy hormones playing tricks on you. The wind pushed it open, you idiot.

Softly, you pulled the door further open and called out. “Hello?”

Whoever it had been, you’d been too slow to catch them, but… You were convinced you had seen the edge of your husband’s coat swish around the corner at the end of the hall.

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

A/N: I really like that last line I spent a lot of time on it and I hope you like it because i think it’s neat!!!!! also the asterisks are a mark, as I’m currently adding stuff to that original space. it’s not going to change much of what’s already going on there, so not to worry, my dear beans !!

but poor reader!!!! pregnancy is terrifying (you can lose teeth and break your back!!! yikes!!) and she’s been doing it all alone!!!! but!!! you may notice that bits of this fic make references to this hc list from a while back. giorno picks up at scene 2 so hopefully that gives some insight to his very very cold behavior.

if you want to listen to Liszt’s Un Sospiro here are some of my most favorite interpretations of it (1 and 2 and 3) !!! it’s so beautiful and i hope you like it too !! mayhaps you can give it a listen when you read chapter 1 in its entirety!! the third link is handy if you want to see how the hand crossings look. it’s so complex but beautiful and it sounds so—and basdbkjjbkb i love classical music!!!

how was the food my children!!!! I hope it was to your liking !! :’)

#giorno giovanna x reader #my writing #fic: un sospiro #previews #fic:unsos

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candythemew · 4 years

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Do you have any urVa or Amaj/Nol headcanons? You can choose whichever

Why not all three? I can go into more depth one by one some other time!

(Ah who am I kidding… I’m probably gonna write another essay!)

UrVa the Archer

UrVa is an extremely talented Martial Artist. And would spar with UrMa the Peacemaker (SkekVar’s Counterpart) whenever the two would meet. It was almost like a greeting the two would share.

He has camped out with SkekMal before. Neither of them got any sleep that night. Being in the presence of their other halves was haunting.

UrVa’s favorite food is Leaf Rolls. And he has made his own secret recipe that only he knows! (Amaj wishes he knew his secrets…)

Speaking of diet, aside from UrSan who primarily eats fish, UrVa is the only omnivorous Mystic. But when he kills an animal, he always makes sure to use all of it’s parts. Not one thing goes to waste!

Fond of the Grottan Gelfling, but never really interacted with them much.

Travels mostly alone, but enjoys the company of fellow travelers. He often sees Ursan at least once every couple of trine. Usually during the Migration she takes to the Valley of the Mystics every year. He was also on friendly terms with UrGoh. And appreciated his outlandish ideas or thoughts he would share with him.

UrAmaj the Cook

UrAmaj has a beard. He has a beard and he’s proud of it. What a legend.

Amaj is a very jolly Mystic. Very generous, supportive, and he laughs often. He has a powerful voice and an extroverted persona.

UrAmaj is very talkative and wants to hear what you have to say. Be it something as small as how your day went, or any story you may have to tell! He’ll be sure to intently listen as he gives you more snacks than you can carry as if you were his grandchild!

Basically Santa.

As for his relationship with UrNol, the two have a very close friendship due to their shared interests. They’ll exchange recipes and advice with eachother almost daily. Nol isnt too talkative, but you’d never know that if you saw these two in the same room. They can talk for hours! Oftentimes forgetting what each of them would be doing once going into conversation. Thra help you if you want to talk to one of them and are waiting for them to be finished.

When it comes to romantic relationships however, He’s completely oblivious. Anyone who would want to drop hints or confess to him would probably have to do so multiple times, and he’d probably reply with something along the lines of:

"Oh Ho Ho! I love you too! All of us do! Now come over here, I have something I’d like to show you I got this amazing new recipe I…”

Friend-zoned once again by the Jolly Grandpa dino.

Secretly upset that he can’t make food that Jen likes. As he doesn’t know how to make gelfling food

UrNol the Herbalist

At the beginning of his life as an Urru, UrNol was similar to his skeksis counterpart. Very blunt and oftentimes starting fights due to his bad temper. although he has mellowed with age, his blunt personality remains. Albeit a much softer version of it. He’s become much more paitient over the years.

As SkekNa doesn’t hide his evil nature, UrNol doesn’t hide his snarky/smug nature.

Being around plants calms him. He likes each plant’s unique purpose in it’s ecosystem, and will sometimes relate a plant species to someone he knows in his life.

As mentioned before, He’s Best Friends with UrAmaj. Viewing him as the brother he never had. He brings him the spices and herbs he needs for the replenishing meals that the Cook makes for the rest of his kind. UrNol also helps Amaj with remembering things as he tends to be a bit forgetful and easily distracted. UrNol has compared him to Nulroot multiple times.

Although UrAmaj is Nol’s closest friend, The Herbalist is also acquaintances with UrTih the alchemist. The two sometimes go out to look for rare herbs that UrNol can then bring back home to either hybridize with other plants, or to grow in the Valley for easy access. He also helps the Alchemist with gathering the herbs he may need for his potions. The reason these two arent too close however is UrTih’s sometimes awkward personality, and social anxiety.

UrUtt has been asking him for advice for various things she wants to keep secret. I wonder what that could be?

#headcanon #UrVa #UrVa the Archer #UrAmaj #UrAmaj the Cook #UrNol #Urnol the Herbalist #urru #mystics #tdc #aor #Ageofresistance #TheDarkCrystal #the dark crystal age of resistance #Dark crystal headcanon

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1051

Are you between the ages of 30 & 40? I still have to get through nearly another decade to get to that decade.

What was your favorite Saturday morning cartoon growing up? My favorites were The Wild Thornberrys and Little Bill, both on Nickelodeon. My sister and I also enjoyed this wacky show called The Upside Down Show but it wasn’t a cartoon.

What was your favorite toy as a child? I liked any toy that had a lot of buttons or features within it - dollhouses, kitchen sets, cash registers, toy phones, anything that could make me test how much it could do.

In High School did you wear acid washed jeans? No. It’s not a style I would be drawn to, then and now.

How much was a gallon of gasoline when you first started driving? I don’t know; I never paid much attention to gas prices, honestly.

What was your first car? It’s a 2014 (or 2015?) Mitsubishi Mirage I’m still using today, though it was my dad who paid for it and he’s the one who takes it out for oil changes and stuff.

Who taught you how to drive? My dad taught me a few times around the neighborhood, but he also enrolled me for like three classes in a driving school so that I got to learn how to drive in a highway.

What was your high school mascot? Both of my schools didn’t have any. My university does have a nickname for our varsity teams, but we’re simply just ‘Maroons’ and not an animal like what I usually see.

Did you go to your Senior Prom? We had a junior prom, nothing for senior year. I was invited to go to the senior ball in another school by Mike, though. That feels like ages ago; everything is so different now.

What did you do after graduation? After my high school graduation I went straight to college like most kids here. After graduating college, I immediately started looking for jobs; I landed an internship after a month and got absorbed into the company two months after.

What was your first job? I’m currently working as an associate at a public relations agency. This is my first job and for now, I’m content in staying in this career. This is where I set out to be when I was in college and I don’t feel the need to change paths any time soon.

What did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be an astronaut more than anything else, but I remember also wanting to be a firefighter or a vet.

Any posters on your bedroom walls growing up? I had a handful of wrestling posters that my mom was never a fan of. It was never her business since it’s my room, but she always made it the case.

Do you remember the first time you drank a beer? It may have been at Marielle’s debut, five Julys ago. She served beer at the afterparty of her 18th birthday party, and I think I had taken my first sip then.

Did you ever try cigarettes? Yeah, I started this year actually. I’m about to reach my first anniversary of trying my first cigarette :/ I don’t have a lot of them though and I haven’t smoked since like February or March, I think.

How did you spend your summers growing up? At home. My parents were always busy with work, so I had no choice but to myself occupied at home. Luckily I had siblings and cousins, so we were always playing with each other. My summers were never productive until I was in college, when I started making the effort to go out more.

If you could change anything from your teenage years, would you? Ahh idk man I wish I wouldn’t have spent as much time by the computer as I did, and maybe hang out with friends or something instead. < Yeah this hits the bullseye pretty much. I was a very introverted teenager. Not to mention the internet and social media started to blow up during my tween/early teenage years, so I was hooked to my laptop and kept people away as a result. I didn’t start feeling like a teenager until I was 16, when I gained friends and got invited to more stuff.

Do you remember your first time? Yeah, it was during one of my 18th birthday celebrations and she was around.

Ever look back and wish some things were still the same? I do it a lot these days. I do try to stop, because I don’t know what I can gain out of doing so anymore, and because there’s always the danger of being left behind from looking back too much; but most days I can’t help it.

After high school - straight to college or straight to work? University, because you kinda need that credential where I live. It’s unfair, but it’s our reality.

How much did you make per hour at your first job? We don’t really calculate that here...I’ll try to do math for y’all lmao aka Google it, which says I make $2.34 an hour. Wow when you put it that way, it really does not sound high :/ I’m honestly okay with my pay though. I live with my parents so I contribute to the bills and stuff now, but even then there’s more than enough left for me. Favorite home-cooked meal growing up? My grandma’s kare-kare. It was/is always reserved for special occasions; and out of all her grandchildren I was also the one who got attached to the dish especially as I got older, so eventually kare-kare also became the family’s ‘Robyn is coming over so we better prepare this’ dish. I think I’m her only grandchild that she has an allotted dish for, so that makes me feel special :)

Favorite place to eat out growing up? The local Burger King, back when it had a play place for kids.

Did your parents live in a different country before you were born?: No, they have always lived in the Philippines. My mom has always wanted to migrate but my dad shoots it down every time.

Do you have a preferred coffee brand?: When it comes to coffee, no. I wanna try out everything. But when it comes to coffee shop ambience, Starbucks all the way.

Have you ever dated someone who was terrible with money?: No. I remember Gab as always being very cautious, responsible, and conscious about money. Her parents sustained her debit card and I’m pretty sure they always gave her a little bit extra, but she never took more than her weekly allowance from the ATM.

If so, how did it affect the relationship?: Money was never an issue, mostly because the money we received during the course of our relationship wasn’t even ours lol; we both received set allowances from our parents. If one of us was running out of cash, we never hesitated to cover for each other first, and we never pressured one another to pay back immediately.

How often do you paint your nails?: Never.

Do you know anyone who's related to a current or former world leader?: Yeah, I went to high school with a relative of Duterte. She’s super secretive about it, which is pretty understandable. I’m friends with/went to classes with people who are grandchildren of senators and other politicians as well.

Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional?: ...I have no idea how to do that...I always just assumed it’s already taken care of when a part of my salary is deducted lol. I may have to ask my parents about this, whoops.

What is something you don't have any natural talent for?: Anything to do with music. Reading it, playing it, singing, writing songs, etc. Also art and anything to do with creativity.

Did you watch this year's Eurovision?: Ah, my favorite time of the year to mute all my overseas mutuals on Twitter at one point lmao. No, I never caugtht up with it.

Have there been any periods in your life that could be described as being chaotic?: Senior year was a big chaotic war zone. The death of my grandpa and my first breakup coincided with all the crucial college entrance exams. Speaking of college, it was also a period of a lot of heavy decision-making due to me having to make choices of what course I wanted to take in every school I applied to. I barely cried during those few months and it still shocks me to this day how I did it. That was the most I’ve been on autopilot.

What is something you frequently forget?: Where I place my car keys and/or glasses last.

If I looked in your fridge right now, what would I find?: Bread, eggs, a bunch of condiments, butter cheese, vegetables, leftovers, and the grazing box I received from my workplace yesterday. I’m sure there’s more, but I haven’t really stopped and stared at our fridge for a while now.

How do you feel about your body?: I used to feel fairly confident about it; like it was never an issue with me. But truthfully, after being dumped, I’ve started to feel insecure over everything about me.

Who is someone you would like to get to know better?: My teammates at work, Bea and Ysa. They both seem like cool and funny people both in and out of work, and I’d love to get to hang out with them.

If you had to move to a new city, where would you move?: Idk, just somewhere with a lot of opportunities to try new things and meet new people.

Have you ever traveled on a double-decker train?: Nope. I’ve never been on anything double-decker, if I remember correctly.

What's your opinion on assisted suicide?: [trigger warning] I’ve looked into it, but it’s a dead end where I live. That’s all I’ll say, as I don’t want to give others ideas.

At what point do you consider a relationship to be 'long-term?': Fuck if I know anymore. We reached six years and it was a point where I was comfortable and didn’t feel the need to doubt anymore; everything turned out to be a lie in the end. I don’t know anymore. I don’t think about these things anymore.

What jobs did your parents have when you were growing up?: My dad has always been a chef, so he went through all the ranks throughout my childhood until he finally got an executive position when I was in high school. I remember my mom being a receptionist.

Do they still have these jobs? Or different jobs? Or have they retired?: My dad is still in that career path but he doesn’t cook in the kitchen anymore, or at least as much as he used to. He does all the menu planning, evaluating, etc. My mom has shifted to becoming an executive secretary, but she’s still in the hotel industry.

Do you own any winter sports equipment?: I don’t. There’s no reason for me to have any.

Do you have a cell contract plan, or are you on a pre-paid plan?: Prepaid.

Would your parents be okay with you dating someone of another race? I can definitely see my mom reacting, but I know she knows I won’t let her get away with saying anything mildly offensive. My dad would just go on with his life and will care more about the fact that I’m seeing someone, lol.

Do you like when friends stop by unexpectedly? No. Schedule it ahead and let me know. I’m not always mentally okay and them showing up as a surprise might just make me more stressed than grateful.

Where are the following people and what are they doing: mom, dad, sibling(s), best friend, significant other, ex, and last person you kissed? My entire family is under the same roof in their bedrooms, either sleeping or having just woken up. Angela is in Parañaque, probably at a cousin’s place; no significant other; I have no idea where my ex, and also the last person I kissed, is. She doesn’t really have anything to do with me anymore.

How strong are your feelings for the last person you kissed? They’re there. I’d still take a bullet for them if it comes down to it, the usual shit. Let’s move on.

What was the last thing someone else bought for you? My workplace gave me a grazing box as the company Christmas gift.

If your parents looked in your purse/book bag would they find anything you don’t want them to see? What about your bedroom? Do you have anything hidden in there? My vape pens. I came home from Starbucks last weekend and my mom thought my breath smelled like cigarettes and she almost got super pissed until I was able to convince her the only thing I put in my mouth was coffee, so I know my 22 year old, employed, self-earning ass would for sure still get in trouble if I was discovered to be vaping.

How close are you to the last person you hung out with? Can you be your complete self around them? It was the first time I met them and they are also my bosses, so I can’t exactly be my complete self around them yet. I had to act super reserved and to essentially make a good impression first before I start whipping out my jokes or whatever.

If you decided to call your ex right now, do you think he/she would answer? How would the conversation go? No, she’d reject it and tell me to text instead. If she was feeling snappy she would also tell me I’m no longer in the place to contact her that way. Sigh. Who is she anymore and why is she so different from the person I was with?

Are you attracted to the last person you exchanged numbers with? No.

Is music a daily part of your life? It’s not. Videos, more like.

Yellow nail polish: yes or no? Bright or neon yellow is a no, but I suppose more muted shades like mustard yellow can work for me.

What do you think of country music? Eh, not a fan. I would skip it in a second, and I never think about it.

Have you ever ended a relationship but wish you could’ve kept it a little longer? I’ve never ended a relationship.

Did you go to your high school’s graduation? Yes...that’s not an event I would’ve wanted to miss out on lol. That was a nice day. My grandparents came to watch me, and we had dinner at a revolving restaurant after.

If you could live the last three months over again, is there anything you’d change? Everything went to shit exactly three months ago, so this hits home very hard for me. Yes, I would change a lot of things for life not to have gone the way it has.

Who was the last person to message you on Facebook? What would you do if that person told you they have feelings for you? My mom. I would be creeped out and tell my dad immediately.

How did you feel when you woke up today? Melancholic.

Who was the first person you talked to today? What did you talk about? I haven’t talked to anyone yet today. I was thinking of replying to Aliyah’s comment on my Facebook post, but in the end I didn’t think a response was necessary.

When you apply your make-up, do you do it in a specific order? I don’t wear makeup.

Did you do anything sexual last night? No.

Do you think the last person you Facebook messaged is a virgin? She has three children, me included.

Did any of your friends lose their virginity before they were 16? If so, did you feel pressured to do the same? I don’t think my friends did, but I probably know other people who did. My baby asexual ass definitely didn’t feel the pressure. I was even scared shitless for my first kiss when it came time for it and I had kept putting it off that night.

Has someone of the opposite sex made you smile today? No.

Does it matter to you if your significant other smokes? With my previous relationship, it did in the beginning; eventually I just stopped caring.

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? I think it may have been Andrew.

Do you like where you are in life right now? No. I don’t know if a new year would make it better, or if it would help give me a healthier mindset. I just have to wait and see.

Do you hate it when there is a fly around you? Very much.

Is your mom overbearing? She can be.

Is there snow where you live? Never.

#survey #surveys

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primsgirl89 · 5 years

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Storm Clouds 5

The weather was a breath of fresh air from all the rain that had been happening for a while now, but even though it wasn't raining it was still cloudy and cold. Two blue-haired teens walked side-by-side with a cup of a hot beverage in their hands, the boy had hazelnut coffee as the girl had hot chocolate in her hand. Their walk was quiet, but they were comfortable in that silence.

Luka was listening to the soft hum that he heard come from Marinette as they became closer to the school, it was soft and meaningful. Something his heart began to match with the rhythm she made. Juleka had mentioned that she had once heard Marinette humming when the girl was sketching in her sketchbook one day, she claimed that it had relaxed her so much that she was able to pass her make-up test for her Literature class. Now Luka knew he would never doubt his sister on Marinette's humming.

They had reached the school when two limos' pulled into the parking lot and it couldn't be Adrien's or Chloe's since the two were on the steps talking about something. The vehicles had stilled, many students began to crowd around to see what was going on but Luka and Marinette just continued to walk along to the classroom to avoid being late.

To be honest, they didn't pay attention to what was because they would hear about it later in the day. By the time the two reached the first class they had noticed that even the teachers weren't where they were supposed to be, so that had them wondering what it was about the new visitors that had everyone so interested.

Marinette had placed her bag next to her right foot when Adrien comes into the room and towards where she and Luka were in the back. "Hey, Marinette right?"

Marinette nods her head not looking the blonde in the eyes, but she saw how his feet kept twitching in the slightest of ways. Her silence was something that most likely made anybody uncomfortable, she felt bad for making them uncomfortable but she felt uncomfortable having anyone near her.

"I'm sorry for not introducing myself when I first came here," he began as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess with how everyone said you hated being confronted by people I didn't want to make you not like me." Luka glared lightly at the blonde in front of Marinette, who was shifting away from the other boy, with protectiveness. "But then you and Luka became super close, so I thought you and I could try being friends."

Standing up so he was face to face with the blonde he hid Marinette behind him so she could collect herself a bit, "perhaps you can't read body language, but you are making Marinette uneasy. So start with greetings before a conversation."

Adrien glared at the blue-eyed teen with annoyance his tone becoming a hiss, "perhaps you are just seeing things. Marinette looks just fine to me."

Just before Luka could respond he felt a small hands wrap around both of his wrists making him look behind himself to see both his sister and Marinette. Juleka was shaking her head, but he didn't pay attention to his sister his attention was on Marinette with her watery blue orbs and wobbling lip. He felt himself move so he could cup her cheek with his hand with such gentleness as he looked deep in her eyes, "Marinette?"

Marinette shook her head as she rested her cheek heavily into the calloused hand of her only friend, her eyes fluttering shut as tears welled in her eyes. Even though when she spoke it was above a whisper, but he still heard her. "I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."

Those words had almost made Luka's heart begin to break but all he did was grab her and pull her into his arms. The world disappeared as he tried to comfort Marinette, but reality had to come back at some point. It was when the teacher came in with someone who looked like he would work for the rich and famous, as he sat back in his seat he realized that Adrien was in his spot looking at Marinette with hope-filled eyes, it made Luka want to roll his eyes.

How can he not see that Marinette isn't used to being confronted? Sure, he had done something similar but at least he didn't speak so much to her in their first meet he wrote on a piece of paper to her. He would greet her with a small smile and a hello, but it was when they both stood up for a girl being abused by her at-the-time boyfriend. Ever since then they would both exchange words about the girl and how she was doing before they got to know each other a bit. Luka knew how Marinette likes hot chocolate compared to coffee, how Marinette can't seem to get anything done if someone is around her because it makes her feel uneasy. When Marinette makes her sketches she is so in the zone that she usually ends up forgetting to even eat food. Her favorite color, despite her not having a lot of the color, is blue, while her favorite shade is gray because it can be blended with other colors making a softer version of said color. How would Adrien be able to know these things if he isn't patient with Marinette?

A clearing of a throat made Luka look up to the front of the room to see that the teacher was looking directly at him, Luka gave her a blank look making her fidget a little but she looked at him expectantly. "Will Marinette come up to the front of the room?"

Looking beside him he saw why she was looking at him with wide and anxious eyes. Her lips made small movements, asking him a question. 'Will you come with me?,' he nodded his head as he held his palm out towards Marinette with an easy-going smile. All eyes followed them as they made their way to the front of the room, Marinette began to shake visibly so he pulled his hood over her head to keep her from having to see all the eyes on her.

"Marinette," Miss Bustier said gently but her eyes were looking at Luka, "this is Shang Yu, he is the royal steward to the king of China. He will be taking you to meet the King for today." While Marinette was freaking out, Luka looked at the bald man before them with a slight glare not liking how stressed he was making Marinette. She had felt an arm wrap around her shoulders as it led her back to her seat in the back watching as a familiar leather-clad arm grabbed her bag as well as his own. It wasn't until they were towards the door that the teacher spoke up once more. "Luka, you are not to leave school."

Sighing Marinette looked at Luka with a small pleading look, whether if it was for him to stay with her or to not cause trouble Luka didn't know. "If Marinette wants me to come then I am leaving."

Shang cleared his throat to gain their attention, when he had it he spoke. "I had been informed of her close relationship with Mister Couffaine and was told to make sure that he was to come along with Miss Marinette."

The teacher sighed and nodded her head before he handed the two blue-haired students the homework assigned for the night, "go to your other classes to get the rest of the work."

"It had already been done," Shang affirmed the teacher before leading the way out of the school with a grace that had many left in awe.

****

Marinette stared out the window of the limo as they made their way to her grandfather with a small frown on her face. Shang had not spoken a word to them when they had come into the vehicle which made her relax more at not having to speak to a stranger but at the same time, it made her anxious because she didn't know what to expect.

They were going to Le Grand Paris hotel where her grandfather was, but she knew that because of where the car was heading. Marinette knew that only celebrities or very wealthy people are the only ones are really allowed to take residence in this specific hotel, so in her mind, Marinette knew that her grandfather was staying here until things are settled with a castle or mansion was made to fit royalty.

When Shang led them into the building Marinette stayed close to Luka, making sure that her only friend was okay with it. He had mentioned that their class would be taking a field trip to London on a train to Shang, but she only felt a heavy shiver fall down her spine when she heard a familiar voice call out her name. Turning around she saw someone who looked to be in the late fifties with graying hair with brown eyes in a black designer suit.

Marinette's grandfather is not a very warm person in the first meeting, but she also knew that he is a loving man. His eyes saw how closely his granddaughter was near another blue-haired teen who looked like he was protectively troublesome and he liked the boy his granddaughter was with. The boy was tall, especially next to his grandchild, with a blank and calculating eyes. Those blue eyes seemed as if they could see someone on a whole other level, which if Marinette chose him to be her husband, is something a king would need to have to be able to tell if someone being honest to there kingdom. Clearing his throat he stalked to the teens to get a reaction out of the two, the boy his Marinette behind him when he was closer while Marinette straightened herself out. She had smiled at the unknown teen as she stepped beside him rather than behind him.

"Is this your partner, granddaughter," he asked coldly.

Marinette flinched as she looked up at Luka before she took a deep breath, "no, grandfather, this is my only friend Luka Couffiane. Luka, this is my grandfather the current ruler of China."

Luka stepped closer to the older man with a hand out in front of him, "hello."

"Names Chang Zhou," he said with a warmer air around him, "I say I do think I like this one, Marinette. I approve."

#lukanette #miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #luka x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #marinette #marinette x luka #royalty au #the royal heir #princess marinette

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theawkwardterrier · 5 years

Text

things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 17

AO3 link here

The first two times, it happens early. She takes a few days off from work. Steve, red-eyed and trying to hide it, brings her hot water bottles for the cramps, and steak and eggs because the doctor said she needs to recover the lost iron, and dime store thrillers that she finds herself holding open even as she stares out through the window. She overhears him murmuring to Bucky about it over the phone, running a hand over his crumpled forehead and uncharacteristically ignoring the charges, but she doesn’t say a word to anyone. Howard jokes that the next time she needs a few days off to get personal with her husband, she can just say so, and she rolls her eyes and tells him that he has quite enough of his own business to handle without sticking his nose into hers, and hopes that he does not notice the pencil snapped between her hands.

The third time, she is twenty-one weeks along, already starting to show. Her secretary had quietly congratulated her and offered use of a decade-old copy of Dr. Spock. The baby announcement card, mocked up by Steve in the joyously tumultuous early days of the first pregnancy and tucked away until now, is refreshed and printed up and sent out to friends. Peggy has already begun discussing time away after the birth with an irritated and blushing Colonel Phillips and a delightedly blasé Howard. The room which they still avoid calling the nursery has gained a few distinctly nursery-like features. She has an appointment with a tailor set for a Friday to preview potential maternity options for the wardrobe of the busy intelligence agency head. She starts spotting on Tuesday, loses the pregnancy by Thursday. She forgets to cancel the appointment.

Every one of Steve’s small kindnesses, the way he asks if she wants some kind of service (with tentative care in his eyes: “I think it’s something I could do with too”), the touch of his unconscious hand on her back in the dark of their bedroom - all of it says Lean on me. But Peggy can’t bring herself to do that. She wants answers for her anger, but has not even yet found the questions.

She has not deluded herself into thinking that Steve blames her in any way: his anger at himself is clear on his face, clear in the way he goes running at dawn or in the dead of night, long runs that are so punishing even for him that he is still sweating when he returns to her. He has been direct about it, too, earnestly trying after the second time to shoulder the responsibility with talk about how things had happened the way he had known them: another husband, children without this sort of heartbreak. She had been just as vehement that he surely hadn’t gotten into the details of it all, that he didn’t know what he didn’t know. She blames herself enough for both of them, anyway.

The doctor has said that they should hold off on trying any more for now. Apparently three miscarriages in a row, including one well into the second trimester, do not exactly make her a star patient. He had offered to fit her for a new diaphragm.

Peggy’s been stubborn before, privileged her own counsel over that of professionals, but this time she listens. She isn’t certain she could stand trying again, regardless.

They drive into the city to watch Bucky graduate from university five weeks after the third time, four weeks after she returns to work. Steve suggested that they cancel, but Peggy has been shoving them back toward normalcy so relentlessly that she essentially ignores the remark. The trip is quiet, Peggy in the driver’s seat. She wears a favorite dress of hers, navy with crimson piping. It settles over her curves in horribly familiar ways, as if there had never been a time when it didn’t. She takes care to coordinate her nails, shoes, and the sunglasses she wears to move between the buildings of City College. The commencement itself takes place in a soaringly large hall. She gives every indication of listening attentively to the speaker, though afterward she would have to look at the program to see who it had been.

Winifred had invited them over for refreshments following the ceremony. Becca, who has mentioned more than once - to her mother, to her sister, quiet and tactful - that she’s happy to have the morning away while her husband cares for the children, takes the steps of her childhood home in twos and opens her arms to her infant son before the door has finished closing.

Peggy had once held a Proctor baby with little thought. Now she can barely look at one.

“Let me put on the kettle,” she says numbly, and strides past without glancing aside.

She has to check three times to make sure that she’s done it properly, that she remembered the water and to turn on the gas and light the flame. Sitting at the kitchen table, she berates herself for it, for not even being able to do something as simple as this, something that’s been done a thousand times before with no bother throughout history.

When the footsteps approach, she wipes her eyes hastily and says, “I’ll just be a moment, Steve,” before she even thinks to confirm that it’s actually her husband.

“I think you might be a bit longer than that.” Winifred steps into her kitchen, glancing at the water heating on the stovetop. She steps around Peggy’s chair and goes to a cupboard, sliding her hand behind a stack of plates until she’s found a tin. She seats herself beside Peggy and places the tin in the center of the table, popping off the lid as she does.

“Eat,” she says, pressing a shell-shaped chocolate biscuit into Peggy’s hand.

Peggy isn’t precisely in the mood, but she breaks off a corner and puts it into her mouth for the sake of politeness. It’s a bit soft for her taste, but still has good flavor. She breaks off another small piece.

“When I ask you this,” Winifred says slowly, “I want you to truly take your time in answering, hmm, Margaret?” She might be the only person since Peggy’s own mother to call her by her full name, but to Winifred, Bucky will always be James, her daughters are Josephine and Rebecca, never Josie and Becca, and she refuses to call Steve anything but Steven even though his name is meant to be Grant anyway. From her, Margaret seems a badge of honor.

“Of course,” says Peggy.

Winifred levels a look at her. “How are you feeling?” she asks.

Peggy responds, “Fine,” with what even she realizes is excessive haste. Winifred says patiently, “Would you like to try again?”

The kettle begins to whistle and Peggy stands to take it from the heat. She manages to turn off the flame, but seems to get stuck afterward. She stands at the stove, her back to Winifred and the kettle still in her hand. “I’m sad,” she says, staring at the wall. “I’m terribly sad, and I’m angry as well.”

“At whom?”

“At the doctor, for not being able to do anything and for having no advice at all that might help. At all the people in this world who have living children and mistreat them or ignore them or don’t even realize precisely the value of what they have. At Steve, for putting himself through the serum and all that time...away, without thinking about what might come of it. And mostly at myself. For being unfair to all of those people. For thinking I could somehow manage to do it all. For not being able to do this thing that women have been doing while they were still living in caves. For letting myself—” Her voice splinters, fades, and she gasps for a moment to regain herself. “For letting myself be hopeful.”

She almost forgets that Winifred is there; all she hears is the murmur of voices in the front room. Then: “Well, that’s not quite how I felt afterward, but it’s perfectly understandable.”

Peggy turns, just mindful enough to set the kettle back on the stove to avoid flinging it about. Winifred has a biscuit on the scrubbed table in front of her, untouched. She is looking calmly back at Peggy, who swallows.

“It happened to you as well?”

Winifred takes a moment before she speaks. “George and I had been married five months. I went visiting at my mother’s house, and she teased me, saying that the women in our family were usually mothers before the first year was out and I was running out of time. She had something of a bawdy sense of humor, my mother, and her mother had been a midwife, so discussing these things was something of a matter of course.

“And I told her that actually, my monthly had just come, late and heavier than usual, so she would just have to wait for a first grandchild. She went very still, and then she spoke to me in a gentler way than she usually did. She knew that I had wanted the baby, that George had good prospects and that we had been saving for it.

“And I kept thinking it was strange, for months, how I could be sad about something I hadn’t even realized was there, hadn’t even realized myself was gone. But then I had James, and Josephine, and it faded, at least a little.

“Josephine was three and a bit, the second time. I had gone to the church to light a few candles - the children were with my sister - but I found myself absolutely worn out when I arrived, so I sat for a moment to catch my breath. I looked at our pretty church windows, and I said a small prayer, health and safety for my family, my children. And I was about to ask special for the babe, when Sister Thomasine, perhaps the oldest nun I’ve ever seen, passed by and came into the pew behind me. She touched my shoulder and said softly in my ear, “Have you money for a doctor, Mrs. Barnes, or shall I help you to your mother’s?” and I realized I had blood coming down my leg.”

Peggy tries to reach for the protective casing which has allowed her to smile through the most dreadful parts of undercover work, to push through worry for her comrades in a firefight. It crumbles away from her, and all she can remember is the way she too had seen the blood appear, bold and sudden and terrifying, and had known immediately that there was no returning from it. She does not know if she will ever be able to recount it with such calm and such detail.

Winifred’s voice drops. “And then, of course, there was Elizabeth.”

Steve told her about Elizabeth Barnes. She had gotten some type of cancer at age three. At the time, there was nothing to be done. She died when Becca was seven, Josie thirteen, and Bucky fourteen. They’d called her Bitty.

“He really loved her,” Steve had said. “They all did. It nearly broke them when she died.”

Peggy meets Winifred’s eyes. That kind of pain deserves a witness.

The older woman touches at the corners of her mouth with a careful finger as if she is checking that her lipstick is still in place. Her hand trembles slightly. “It was a terrible thing,” she says with quiet and weighty deliberation in each word. “A terrible thing, losing a child, even when they were barely more than an idea of a future to me. But it is also something that connects so many of us. We don’t speak of it, but it’s there nevertheless, and it can happen to anyone: grateful for it or broken by it, rich or poor, the best doctors in the world or none at all. It happened to me when I had perhaps two coins in my pocket, it could happen to that pretty young queen of yours in her palace. Sometimes it is only chance, Margaret.” She sighs and goes to put the untouched biscuit back in the tin, snapping the lid firmly back on. “I try to see the terrible fairness in that. I try to find the good in it, I do. It makes me more forgiving of the children I have, even when I’m angry with them or disagree with the choices they’ve made in their own lives.”

It is clear that she is referring to Josie. It’s apparent to the whole family that she’s found the life she wants, between her teaching and going home to Violet at night, and that if she ever marries a man it will be her giving in to something outside herself. No one mentions it.

Peggy turns back around, preparing the teapot with the slightly cooled water from the kettle. She brings it over to the table and sits across from Winifred. “I don’t know that I can find the good in it,” she says, a quiet confession. “This has made me feel a stranger to myself. I have seen people die - many of them, many good people, sometimes terribly - and I was able to walk on with those memories and do my work. I was never the sort to play dolls or plan names for my children and now the idea of never holding a child of my own seems the most heartbreaking fate. But I find myself without a child and with all of these unfamiliar parts of myself, all of this knowledge that I don’t know what to do with.”

Winifred stands and replaces the tin in the cupboard, takes down the teacups although they are slightly higher than a comfortable reach for her. When she returns, she pours them each a cup of less than steaming tea; they each sip it uncomplainingly. “Your feelings are your own, of course,” she says finally. “But think of this, too, Margaret. Perhaps some of that new knowledge could be that you have more love to give than you would have thought, and that it will always find somewhere to go, even if it isn’t a child grown in your own womb.”

Peggy says nothing in response. She drinks her tea down to the dregs, until she is finally ready to return to sit with the rest of the family.

Steve is already waiting out by the car by the time Peggy has said her goodbyes and come out with a soda bread that she could not refuse. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her toward him. His hands marry themselves behind her back and he holds her securely, ignoring the loaf between them. They lean against the car door. When Steve finally speaks, she can feel the vibration of it surrounding her.

“You two were in the kitchen for a while.�� He rests his cheek on her hair. “I’m glad that you found someone to talk to, someone who probably has more experience than I do. But Peg, when I promised in sickness and health and all the rest, I meant it. I’m right here.”

She presses her mouth to the vulnerable space at the base of his throat. “I’ve never doubted it,” she says, and although her voice is quiet, she knows that he hears her. “I only had some doubt in myself that I needed to talk through.”

“Hmm.” They have been standing for a while. No doubt people are peering at them through the windows. Peggy waits to hear what Steve will say. “If that happens again, will you tell me? I think I can be pretty persuasive on the topic.”

She smiles against him. “I think we’re safe for now, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

She rests on him for several more long moments before they climb into the car. Steve drives home while she watches out the window, dozing a little but also thinking.

There’s something else she is keeping in mind: the SHIELD librarian is accustomed to wide-ranging research questions from her. Nearly anything will be regarded as relating to some case or other. If she puts in a request for information on adoption in New Jersey, it will not be taken amiss.

More chapters here

#Steggy #Steggy fic #Peggy Carter #Steve Rogers #Winifred Barnes #things left behind fic #miscarriage cw

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kokobop-fire · 5 years

Text

Baby Bump {Jeon Jungkook}

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the gifts that I use, also English is not my first language so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Gender: Angst, with a little of fluff.

Words Count: 3,609

Gender Reveal

Today you marked five months and said that your belly was giant was, to say the least, your baby was growing fast, the baby loved to kick and more if it was a night to the point that sometimes woke you up in the middle of the night, you still did not know the sex of the baby because you were waiting for your parents to return from a trip to accompany you, so they were the first to know the sex of their first grandchild.

That was the little happiness you could feel lately, the support of Jisoo, Doyoung, and Your family you were grateful. Still, even so, in the darkness of your room, you cried until you fell asleep; two years of a relationship are not easy to forget, even more, when the fruit of that love that you once had was growing in your belly. The looks that your classmates gave you or that people gave you in the street for being pregnant without a man next to you made you cry, and the teenage aspect you had only made it worse. You didn't hate the boys or with the evil on any of them; you just hoped that Jungkook would rot in hell or suffer erectile dysfunction at a young age, and reduce the possibility of getting pregnant another elusive woman and not suffer the same fate than yours.

You smiled when you saw how Jisoo and Doyoung kissed each other as a pose in the photo you were taking; both were good enough to decide to make your company on your little walk to the Han River at midnight helped the baby calm down a little bit. Jisoo was the first one who decided to accompany you when she saw you were leaving the apartment. Doyoung offered to accompany us because it didn't seem like a good idea to let two women walk alone at midnight when one of them is pregnant.

Despite being past midnight, there were still many open places. Among them, your favorite coffee shop, Doyoung, offered to buy you a cup of hot white chocolate if you took a picture of both because, according to Jisoo, it was time to update their profiles.

"My reward, please" you smiled at them as you handed them their phones, causing Doyoung to roll his eyes. "And be quick slave, my baby is eager for that hot chocolate."

You dropped on a close bench, and you sighed tired, walking from your apartment to the Han River was not a good idea since you were pregnant, but the view and the mild weather were worth it; you closed your eyes, enjoying the fresh wind that it came in your coat.

"You have super swollen feet," Jisoo commented, causing you to look at her badly, it was true, but she didn't need to say it out loud.

"You'd better be the first one to like our photos, or I'll throw in front of your eyes that cup of hot chocolate, "She threatened before going to accompany Doyoung in the cafeteria.

Sometimes you felt jealous of the relationship they both had; you were thinking how you would be if Jungkook had not abandoned you, as he would react with the baby's kicks, or if he would please you in all your cravings as Doyoung does.

You put your purse on your belly to prevent people from looking at you too much; you concentrated watching Instagram until you felt a look on you; you tried to ignore it since that person most likely sees your belly. You kept using your phone until you heard someone call your name, you quickly raised your eyes, causing your face to turn white, they were supposed to be away in another country, that's why you felt so safe walking the Han River at this time.

You cursed when you saw how it began to approach your bench; you clung to your bag thanks to the fear you didn't know how to react, you felt as if your mom had caught you eating ice cream after she made it clear that you couldn't, you couldn't respond to your body to move and you cursed Jisoo and Doyoung for their delay.

"Hi," Namjoon's voice made you shudder, but you refused to look up. "How have you been? We have not heard from you in months, and every time we ask Jungkook, he gets upset or cries, so we assume that the two of you decide to break up.

Is he serious?

Jungkook now cried for you when he was the one who destroyed the relationship. Namjoon was going to continue talking, but with that phrase, you had enough, you had to get away from Namjoon before you did something that could destroy your plans.

There are times when the universe turns against people and today was one of those times; you did not take five steps when Namjoon grabbed your wrist. "You should talk to Jungkook; I listen as Chaeyeon was talking about Jungkook telling her that you had left him by a text message and you blocked him for all social media."

"Namjoon, let me go" your voice sounded more broken than you imagined it would say, to think that Jungkook was telling those lies of yours and more telling them to someone you considered your friend, but you had to let go by the link she had with big hit. Why didn't Jungkook leave you alone? "If I block him from all social media will be for a good reason, he was the person who decided to put an end to this relationship, or why don't you ask your dear Maknae what he asked me to do?"

You stayed a moment in silence, analyzing Namjoon's face, your heart cringed when he released your wrist, and his gaze fell on your belly.

"How many months do you have?" His voice sounded nervous, his gaze traveled around trying to make sure no one was listening to their conversation, the distant voice of Doyoung calling you made you turn to see them, Jisoo dedicate you a worried look.

"I'm just asking you to leave me alone and calm; I'm going to continue with my life ahead; just tell him to stop telling lies about me, that he's decided to put an end to the relationship."

Without more, you turned around to meet your friends who were waiting with a look of concern; the arms of Jisoo wrapped you in a firm hug. "I will not leave you alone ever again."

Without realizing it, you were already letting go of the tears that you refused to let go in public; you just wanted everything to end quickly, that your baby is born healthy and be able to give a better life in the small home you were planning to have. °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° You smiled at the dean of your faculty before leaving your office; He had approved you for taking the rest of your classes online, allowing you to move away from Seoul with your aunt and grandmother finally. After the meeting with Namjoon, you decided that the best thing would be to get away from the city to avoid future encounters with the rest of the members. Jisoo refused to let her best friend go, but you knew it was best for her, Doyoung could move in with her, and they could take their relationship to another level. Besides, life in Seoul was not the most favorable for a newborn's single and unemployed mother. The island of Jeju was much cheaper for you, and you already had a job secured there.

You couldn't prevent a smile from forming on your lips as you imagined your baby taking his first steps on the sand in the backyard of your grandmother's house. The happiness you had didn't last long when you saw two familiar faces of the big hit staff waiting for you outside the building of your faculty, you got closer and won several strange looks from the people around you. "Bang Pd wants to talk to you, says they have unresolved issues with you."

Possibly it was not a good idea to get in the van, but if you wanted to close the cycles, you had to talk to Bang Pd because if you didn't, he would harass you to make sure your little secret never came to light. As they got closer to the building, more panic would get in, and your baby's kicks were not helping you.

The looks of the staff members made you want to run away; you understood them only knew the version of the child they practically raised and not yours; the way to his office felt like the longest road you had ever walked; you felt as if you had murdered someone and you were already in death row.

"You can pass; they're already waiting for you," his secretary informed you without even looking at you in the eyes; you stopped in front of the door trying to calm down; you knew that Jungkook was going to be in that office. You were not ready to face him; you plan to tell your child, who was his o her father when his or her turn 18.

With Namjoon, you cried. You didn't know what to expect with Bang and Jungkook. In that case, you could not run away because you knew you were not going to get very far until security found you, so you just went into the office; your heart started beating fast when you saw the look without Bang Pd's emotions Jungkook's back.

"Sit down; I don't think that in your condition, it's good that you stand up for a long time," his voice was a bit hard. You could understand his concern; you wanted to understand his situation; both of you screwed up; if the press found out about your pregnancy, you were dead, his fans were going to kill you. You sat slowly, ignoring the look of jungkook. "How many months do you have?"

"5 months."

You gave Jungkook a brief look; you were surprised to notice how worn his face looked and the huge bags under his eyes.

"Do you already know what the sex is?"

"No, I'm going to meet my parents at the end of this week in Jeju to know the sex."

"Jeju?" You trembled a little when you heard his voice for the first time in months "It's the best for all the parts; I'll start from zero in Jeju with my aunt and maternal grandmother."

"And you didn't intend to tell the baby's father your decision?" You looked incredulous at Bang Pd; he can't be serious.

"What happens is that the baby's father four months ago told me that it was best that we got rid of the baby, and I don't have the heart to do that."

"It was the baby's end, not our relationship," Jungkook answered, frustrated.

"Since I knew I was pregnant, the baby became my priority, and if you didn't want it, then you didn't want me either."

Your baby was a part of you; if someone didn't want it, then they didn't love you, and the fact that he was saying that only made you want to hit him more.

"Bang Pd with all respect I don't understand what I'm doing here, I'm moving to an island away from all of you; I told Namjoon that I don't need anything from you, I just ask you to forget about me as I will try to do the same" You stay quiet trying to calm down "If you want I can sign a confidentiality agreement so that I can never talk to anyone about the identity of my baby's father."

Bang nodded at your words. "I'm glad you think about this situation; after talking with Jungkook, he wants to be responsible; he wants you to move in together in the apartment that he bought during the remainder of your pregnancy and after the baby is born, make a custody agreement."

"That's not going to happen," you answered dry, sharing custody with someone who didn't love the baby from the beginning; you turned to see Jungkook, who had his eyes on his lap "that's what you want?"

"Yes"

"Do you want to take my baby away?"

"I don't want to take it away; I just want us to share the responsibility of a mistake we both made; I know that at first, I don't react in the best way, but I am very sorry, and I miss you too much."

"I think it's best to leave you alone, so you can talk better," Bang's uncomfortable voice informed you before practically running towards the door; you could feel the tension in the office; Jungkook waited for the door to close before continuing.

"I love you, and these months without you have been completely horrible, and the thought that I forced you to kill our baby because of me was eating me when Namjoon arrived furiously and told me that he had seen you pregnant, happiness didn't fit my body."

He was looking for you just because Namjoon forced him to take responsibility for his mistake, you could hear the emotions in Jungkook's voice, but he was not the person who spent four months under the prejudices of a closed-minded society, where a single young mother meant many wrong and shameful things.

"What do you want to get with this Jungkook? That I forget everything and jump back into your arms? "Your voice sounded hard and full of anger" I know that for you, it is not essential. Still, I was the one who had to see the disappointed face of my parents when I told them that I was pregnant and didn't have your support; I was the one who endured the murmurs of my classmates for being pregnant and without a partner" You quickly stand up, you could not stand being in the same room as Jungkook." I'm sorry, Jungkook, but my decision is made; I'm going to live in Jeju, and nothing is going to change my mind; from now on, I'll text you when something relevant happens with the baby, but that's it" Ignored the look of Bang and his secretary when you left the office.

The last few months, you had fantasized about finding Jungkook and giving him a big slap in the face; you imagined how you were going to rain a fit of pure anger on him, but in reality, you just cried, and that was something you hated and even more if he was in front of other people. Pregnancy and its hormones had made you a completely new person, and crying was the only thing you were doing lately.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° You closed your eyes, trying to control the tears; you just wanted to get to Jeju and try the famous Octopus skewers of your grandmother.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Jisoo sobbed on your neck; you rolled your eyes at how dramatic your best friend could be; you were going to miss her too much.

"We're only going to be an hour and a half away," You answered with a playful look, earning a hit from her. "Jisoo is true. Jeju is only an hour and a half away by plane, and for you, I would answer the phone at any hour."

It had been three days since you last saw Jungkook, and you were grateful that no one from that company had tried to contact you. Still, one night unconsciously, you were looking for more Jungkook fansites to watch their photos or see their latest shows; you observed the apartment he had bought and fantasized about how your baby would be growing up among those luxurious walls. Until Jisoo entered your room and confiscated your phone and sent you to finish packing your last things, you were still waiting for the confirmation that your other belongings had arrived and that they didn't sink in the middle of the ocean.

Doyoung gave you a big hug lifting you slightly from the ground. "I'm going to miss you, cupcake" that stupid nickname, Doyoung put it on you the second week of your friendship, and you hated him completely, you hit him in the stomach "you should go before your flight left you."

You grabbed your little purse and headed for the door that indicated your ticket; you didn't look back because you knew you were going to break into tears and you would go back to your apartment with Jisoo.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° You sighed, frustrated when you saw your watch again, and you saw that it was already an hour of waiting for your aunt at the airport entrance. You were tired, the whole flight you feel dizzy, and you just wanted to get there and sleep

You grabbed your luggage, ready to take a taxi to your grandmother's house when you saw your aunt enter at full speed. "I am sorry, honey, but your grandmother and I lost track of time in the market."

You finished assembling your luggage with her help before looking inside the car, noticing the absence of your grandmother and the market's packages.

"Where is Nana?"

"I had to leave her in the market to be able to come looking for you."

The way from the airport to the house was quick, your aunt was the happiest person you knew, not even when you met Hoseok did you change your opinion about your aunt, catch up with her, made you happy, you had missed your aunt.

"These are the keys to the house, and I recommend that you sleep a little because there is no food, and we are going to delay the cooking" she smiled before restarting the car.

You put your hand on your belly, caressing the place where he was giving his little kicks; you noticed that there was another car parked in the entrance of the house, but you ignored probably it is a neighbor's car, you were willing to enter and take hot bath and sleep until the next day, for your new job. You were going to start working in the restaurant that your aunt and grandmother had. You always liked that restaurant. In recent years, it became popular among the tourists, giving them both a significant income. You were ready to become their new cashier.

Your heart fell in your stomach when you opened the door, and you found Jungkook on one knee in the middle of the room. "No, I cannot do this now Jungkook, Jeju was going to be my new start. What are you doing here?"

"I love you with all my soul; I cannot let you go easily, your words opened my eyes, and one of the first steps to return with you was to apologize to your parents and friends. The last two days have not been easy. Your dad and Doyoung hit me very hard; at least they were considerate enough not to hit me in the face. "He laughed without encouragement" Yesterday I faced the same looks of the disappointment of my parents when I told them everything, my mother hit me as if there was no tomorrow until my dad stopped her" He paused, taking out a small black velvet box, You shook your head, this could not be happening "I have the blessing of your parents, my brother chose the ring, you Aunt and grandmother were kind enough to pick me up at the airport and let me stay here. "

You shook your head again before kneeling in front of him; listening to his words and seeing that he was on the verge of crying made you start crying. "Jungkook, if you had asked me that question 6 months ago, I would have considered it seriously, but you broke my heart, and I cannot marry you for those reasons" you put your hand on his cheek, remembering how his skin felt against yours, his hand slowly covered yours "We have to work together and win each other the trust we had before giving a step as big as that."

He nodded; he understood your words, something that made you smile slightly.

"I still love you, Jungkook; you don't forget two years so fast and less with a baby growing inside me, I am going to return with you to Seoul, and when the baby is born, we see what we are doing. For now, friends?

"Friends are more than enough" he hugged you, you closed your eyes, inhaling the familiar floral scent that he always had, and he slowly separated from you.

"Can I?" You nodded, taking his hand and placing it in your giant belly just where he was, baby Kicking.

You could not keep the smile that formed on your face thanks to the image of Jungkook looking with love at your belly and feel the kicks of the baby; you heard the click of a camera, causing both to look at the door where your aunt was taking photos.

"You will thank me in the future."

It would be a good photo for the baby's room; you just wished you were making the best decision on returning to Seoul with Jungkook.

199 notes · View notes

igoturbackkid · 5 years

Text

When You Were Young (Michael Langdon x reader one shot)

“You sit there in your heartache

Waiting on some beautiful boy to

To save you from your old ways”

Note: Warnings: drug use, mental illness (depression), death, season 1 and 8 spoilers, fluff, and smut. I’ve also never done drugs so Idk how accurate parts of this are but it’s fiction so just go with it! lol Also I stole the title from a song again but it fits so perfectly and it’s one of my favorite songs of all time. And I’m still new to writing so any constructive criticism is welcome! Enjoy!

*** = time jump

The first time you met Michael was when his grandma killed herself. You were one of the many spirits doomed to wander the Murder House for eternity. You were only 16 when you died. You didn’t have many friends growing up, being the introverted weirdo that people made fun of daily, so when you got to high school, you immediately found a group to call yours. They were the stoners. Constantly getting high, drinking, and trying anything that was passed around at parties. Your parents didn’t understand what was wrong with you. They loved you, god help them, but they didn’t know how to control you. You still remember the first time you tried drugs was when you realized you had depression. You barely went to school, you were never happy, not even sad, you didn’t feel anything at all. Your room was your sanctuary, but all you did was wallow in your own depression, away from anyone and everyone.

One day while your parents were at work, you skipped school again and were feeling utterly restless. You wandered into your parent’s bedroom and started going through their things. You stumbled into their bathroom and found a bunch of bottles of medicine. It had your typical ibuprofen, allergy medicine, etc. But what really interested you were the bottle of prescription pain killers. You knew that people got addicted to them, but you also knew that you could get high off of them. Maybe that’s what you needed. A shock to the system to set you back to normal. You popped a couple of the pills into your mouth and wondered back to your room, waiting for the effects to kick in. It wasn’t quite what you were expecting, you felt almost more numb, but in a good way. You felt like you were in such a different state that mental illness couldn’t even touch you. That’s where your addiction began.

It was Halloween night and you and your friends were pretty wasted. Those of you who weren’t completely passed out decided to embark on a spooky adventure. You knew all about the Murder House growing up in LA. Everyone did, the house was infamous for the vile acts committed inside the premises. Sure, you’d seen the building from the outside but this time you were gonna get a first-hand tour. One of your friends had been arrested for breaking and entering before and he was the one who initiated the plan of break in, find some ghosts, and get high. You and your friends explored the whole house, mostly in the dark without finding anything. Your friend told you that if the spirits didn’t wanna be seen, then they wouldn’t show themselves. You all tried to get them to come out, trying to make them mad, even using a Ouija board you found in the basement. Still nothing.

That’s when you all decided to just get high instead. The oldest in the group, a senior at the school, brought cocaine. You’d never tried anything that intense before. But that didn’t scare you. What’s the worst that can happen? You get super paranoid and pass out? Your friends went one by one until it was your turn. You did exactly as they did. It didn’t take long to kick in but once it did you were flying. You felt so high you never wanted to come down. So while your friends were all minding their own business, checking out the house, you decided to partake again. That’s where you went wrong. Your second hit was bigger than the first, and you were already so high. You started to feel sick to your stomach, you actually vomited in your mouth. You managed to swallow it but started to feel hot, like you had a fever. That’s when you blacked out.

After a few minutes you stood back up, feeling much better. You felt fine actually. You looked around to try to find your friends but you didn’t see them. Did they ditch you? Assholes. You continued to wander the basement, until you saw the oddest thing. It was you. You were lying on the ground, motionless, eyes rolled to the back of your head. Oh god. You couldn’t stop the immediate sobs that wracked your body. You were dead. You were dead and you’d never grow up, you’d never see your family again, you’d never graduate, you’d never get married and have babies. You were dead.

It took an adjustment to get used to being just a ghost of the person you were before. Once the spirits of the house realized what happened to you, they made themselves known. The first one to introduce herself was Moira. She was an older, red-headed lady who felt pity for you. She told you about the other spirits, warned you against them, and offered her condolences. She wasn’t prepared to die either when she did but she didn’t have a choice since she was shot and killed.

After a few years of wandering the home, you finally weren’t completely somber on the inside. You still weren’t happy in this afterlife but at least you weren’t in hell. You didn’t think you’d be able to take the burning, the torture, whatever actually went on down there. If hell was real, then Satan was real, and that meant your bible-thumping parents were right. They thought Satan would bring about the apocalypse. Crazy, right?

It was another normal day while you were wandering the house. You were upstairs, looking out one of the windows. While you were watching you saw an older lady walk into the house. You thought nothing of it, you’d seen her around before. Sometimes she would talk to Tate, sometimes to her other son, Beau. You heard some shuffling downstairs, some music playing, not quite sure what Constance was up to. You continued daydreaming out of the window when you saw a young boy approach the house. You couldn’t tell much about him, but he looked about your age with short, blonde hair. You made your way downstairs to see what he was doing here.

“Grandma!” you heard the boy call out. “Grandma!!”

“Grandma?” you heard him say in a distressed tone.

When you finally made your way downstairs, the scene before you was so tragic, you started to tear up. Constance was on the couch, lying dead, as the boy cried and tried his hardest to get her to wake up.

“Grandma, hey, hey wake up.” he tried pulling at her lifeless body, trying anything to get his Grandma to come back to him. Wait, his grandma? Who was this boy? You thought you knew all of Constance’s family, even if her Adelaide’s spirit wasn’t trapped in the house as well.

“That’s my son.” you heard a man’s voice say behind you.

Ben Harmon was stood behind you now, also watching the scene unfold.

“Your son? I thought your son died?” you questioned Ben. Violet had told you her mother was raped, gave birth but that the baby was a still born.

“When my family lived here, my wife was raped. By Tate. She was pregnant with mine and Tate’s child. One of them was a still born, the other survived. Constance, took him in.” he explained to you.

You couldn’t even think of a response to what he told you. Vivian was raped by Tate Langdon? Why would he do that. But Ben said that was his son, was this Tate’s son, since Constance took him in? He did just call her his Grandma...

You turned away from Ben, back unto the scene of the crying boy in front of you. You watched him clutch Constance’s lifeless body and cry out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault!”

Right then you felt your heart break for this poor boy, too young to lose his only family. If Tate/Ben is his father and Vivian is his mother, then the rest of his family is dead. You really felt for the guy. You decided to show yourself to the young boy, with so much grief in his eyes, to help him.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” you told him as you appeared.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“A spirit who also died in this house, who just wants to show you some kindness.” you told him simply.

“A spirit? Does that mean my Grandma is a ghost now too?” he questioned.

“Yes, she is. But I don’t think she wants to be seen.” you told him as you watched Constance’s spirit walk out of the room, unseen to the living.

“She doesn’t wanna see me?” he cried.

“No, I’m sorry.” you apologized.

“Who are you? What do you want?” he accused you.

“Someone who wants to be seen, someone who wants to help.” you replied. He slowly shook his head, unbelieving of what you said.

“I want to help you, let me help you.” you said.

“I’m a monster! Why would you wanna help me?” he asked you.

“Because I died in this house and I’ve never felt more alone, being trapped in this house. But you’re alive, free to do whatever, go wherever, but you have no one. Which means you also have never felt more alone.” you told him.

He only kept looking at you, tears in his eyes, still clinging to Constance’s body for dear life. You slowly approached him, holding your hand out for him to take.

“My name’s Y/n. What’s yours?” you introduced yourself to him.

“Michael. Michael Langdon.” he said while slowly grabbing your hand as you pulled him up.

“Well Michael, let’s go try and forget about this awful day, together, if that’s alright?” you hesitantly questioned him, not wanting to come on too strong.

“Ok.” he replied in such a small voice, tear stains down his beautiful face.

***

Ever since that day, you and Michael began a friendship. You were two of the loneliest people who made a true friendship, when you came together. Michael was an interesting person. Depending on who you asked about him, he was either a monster, or to you, just another lonely and lost soul. Constance took notice of you hanging around with her grandchild, she even tried to warn you to stay away from him, that he was evil incarnate. You blew her off with a “Fuck you, you don’t know the real him, you don’t know him like I do!”. All she replied with was a “Just don’t come crying to me when you see how evil that boy really is.”

You and Michael were close so you decided to tell him about your encounter with his Grandmother. He said she was probably right, that there was something wrong with him. He liked to skin animals, hammer them to the walls, and leave them for her. He saw them as gifts but she thought it was an abomination. Because of this new discovery, you started to understand Michael a lot more than you did before. He was the creation of a spirit that fornicated with the living, that had to have an effect on him. The darkness of the other side, of death, must have had some kind of influence on him. He’s not a normal kid in that sense, so he wouldn’t do normal things. It doesn’t mean what he’s doing isn’t wrong, it just means he doesn’t know that it’s wrong.

The more time you spent with Michael, the more you saw the good in him. And he wanted to be good, desperately. Always looking for your approval, to know what he did was right and good. This house was always shrouded in a darkness that tainted your heart with grief and despair. Michael was your light in the darkness. And you loved him for it. Michael and you started to spend a lot of time cuddled up together. Either watching a scary movie as he held you, taking walks through the house and holding his hand. A romance slowly started to blossom between you two. At first you were conflicted. You were dead, you’d always be dead, so Michael should leave and find someone alive to be happy with. But the other part of you craved him more than any drug you ever had. It was selfish to love him, wrong even, but you didn’t wanna be right.

The first time you kissed was after an encounter he had with his father, Tate. Michael was going through his things and Tate caught him in the act. Michael innocently told him, “I just wanna be like you, Dad.” and Tate exploded at the boy. He told him, “Not even I could create something as monstrous, as evil as you!”

Michael’s response was to throw himself back onto the bed and cry. You were furious. You wanted to kick Tate’s ass for being such an ass. But your Michael needed you, and that was more important. Tate would get an earful later.

You sat down on the bed next to a crying Michael. At first you just rubbed his back, telling him words of encouragement, trying to get him to stop crying because it was killing you inside. Michael was your weakness, seeing him cry made you cry. You brought yourself closer to him, rubbing his back and whispering in his ear. Telling him how great you thought he was, how special he was, what a great friend he was to you, and how much you loved and needed him.

When he heard that, Michael lifted his head. He sat up to rest his head on your shoulder as you put your arm around him to comfort him. As he finally calmed down, he wiped the final tears off his face and turned to face you.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you. Don’t leave me, please, don’t ever leave.” he pleaded with you.

This poor boy had no one in the world. No one but a girl who died and whose spirit befriended him out of pity.

“You don’t ever have to worry about that, Michael. Anyway, I’m stuck here remember?” you joked.

Michael laughed quietly and bumped your shoulder with his. You both just sat there smiling, happy to be in each other’s company. It was quiet for a minute while you both just stared ahead at the room. When you turned your head to look at him, he was already staring at you. The intensity of his eyes made you blush. His eyes suddenly flickered down to your lips before his closed his eyes and he started to lean in. If you had a beating heart you’re sure it would have jumped out of your chest. You brought your hands up to hold either side of his face, closed your eyes, and leaned in. When your lips met, you felt a spark. Like a lighter being flicked on. The sudden heat rushed through your body, you almost felt alive again at the sensation. The kiss started out innocent but once you opened your mouth to him, it became way more intense. Michael got the clue and opened his lips to taste you. When your tongues met it was like two puzzle pieces finally put together. It felt right to be with Michael in this way. To be completely open with him, it was like he could see your soul. As you continued to kiss, your hands wondered onto his chest, then onto his back, holding him to you. He brought his hands to hold your face in his and he cradled it like it was the most precious thing he’s ever held. Like he didn’t wanna break you but also like he never wanted to let go. Once you both started to run out of air you both leaned back to catch your breath.

His hands still held your face as you both just smiled at each other. Content in each other’s silence. Knowing that nothing needed to be said because you both were just blissfully ignorant to anything that wasn’t this moment. The world could be ending and neither of you would care because you’re here in his arms, feeling alive for the first time.

***

“So how’d you die?” your Michael asked you one day while lounging on his bed together. His head was in your lap and you were running your fingers through his beautiful hair.

“I overdosed.” you told him.

“Were you trying to kill yourself?” he asked innocently.

“No, I just liked the high, got greedy, and paid the price.” you explained to him.

“I don’t want this to come out wrong, but in a way, I’m glad you died. It brought me to you.” he confessed.

“Honestly, I feel exactly the same.” you confided to him.

He gave you that adorable smile you loved so much that just made you wanna hug him and never let go.

“Y/n...” he started.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Why did you do drugs?” he questioned.

“Because I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t get happy or sad. I just felt nothing, and I wanted to feel something.” you felt like you were in a therapy session.

“What about now, are you happy?” he asked you with those puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, yeah Michael, thanks to you I am.” you told him.

Michael sat up then and grabbed your face to start kissing you. He kissed you all over your face and it made you giggle. You were already laughing as he also decided to tickle you. You yelled for him to stop, breathless, and laughing. He kept going when suddenly you both heard the front door open. He told you to wait while he checked it out. You agreed. You realized he was taking quite a while and decided to see what was taking him so long. When you made it downstairs there were boxes everywhere. Someone moved in? You heard a scream and followed it into the home office. A man stood in a black rubber suit, he had just stabbed the two new homeowners to death.

“No!” you screamed at the figure, trying to stop the tragedy happening before you. The man waved his hand and you found yourself unable to move. Unable to help the poor couple lying lifeless on the floor. The man suddenly unzipped the mask he was wearing and revealed his identity to you. Michael stood in front of you, staring you down.

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently.

“Seriously?!” you yelled. “You just killed two people, Michael! Why the fuck did you do that?” you raised your voice at him.

“They don’t belong here.” he simply stated.

“Because of what you did they’ll be here forever.” you countered.

The couple just brutally murdered discovered their bodies, and rightly so, started to freak out.

“You didn’t have to kill them. I know you, Michael, this isn’t who you are.” you pleaded with him.

Suddenly, as if by magic, Michael started motioning with his hands and the spirits of the couple before you burnt up before completely disappearing. Suddenly you found you could move again.

You didn’t know what to do. On one hand what Michael did was so awful you shouldn’t wanna ever see him again. And on the other hand, this was the man you loved, who was deeply fucked up, but still needed help. You simply decided, to just make yourself unseen. Before you turned to disappear, you saw tears in his eyes. He knew you were disappointed. You didn’t wanna fuck him up even further by yelling at him, so you decided to punish him by giving him the silent treatment.

The entire time you avoided Michael physically, you were still with him every second, spiritually. He couldn’t see you but you were by his side every night. He was still your Michael, you couldn’t be without him. The day you decided to be seen again was the day three strange people visited the house. They wore black capes and claimed to be satanists. They invited Michael to partake in a ritual with them. One that involved the death of an innocent girl. When the ritual was over, and Michael became more powerful, you decided to show yourself. Michael cried, and begged for your forgiveness. You forgave but you never forgot. He cried so much he wore himself out so you put him to bed and watched him from the corner. It was in the middle of the night when another spirit entered his room. It was his mother, Vivian. She held a knife in her hand as she approached Michael. You completely froze, not knowing if you should stop her to save your love, or let him kill the evil that was inside of him. Suddenly his eyes opened and Vivian started to burn like the couple he killed. You were still frozen with fear when suddenly Tate jumped out and saved Vivian. You were glad he was there, because you were literally petrified.

You realized Michael was becoming a completely different person to the sweet, innocent boy you once met. It took some time before you and Michael went back to normal, after the things you witnessed, you decided there was nothing you could do now so you should just enjoy your time with him. One day you realized Michael wasn’t home and went to look for him. You couldn’t find him anywhere. You waited and waited for him to come home but he never did. You finally found a letter in the office, where you first met him, with your name written on it.

Y/n,

I’m sorry for everything I’ve done but I have to leave. It’s my destiny. I know you think there’s something wrong with me, even if you try to ignore it. So I’m leaving to become who I was meant to be, and so you don’t have to feel bad pretending to like me anymore. I still love you, I promise one day I’ll come back.

-Michael

You dropped to your knees with the realization Michael was gone. Your heart ached and tears streamed down your face. He was gone. Your Michael, your light was gone. It didn’t matter anymore, the evil things he did, because he was gone and he wasn’t coming back. He promised in his letter he’d return but he probably only wrote that for your benefit. They say it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. What a load of bullshit.

***

Years had passed since Michael left you and you were doing fine. Over the time you came to be thankful for his departure almost. The spirits here were right, he was evil, and you should stay away from him. You were sitting in the library, staring at the unlit fireplace when you suddenly heard a voice behind you.

“Even I could think of a few better ways to spend eternity in here other than staring at a boring fireplace.” he sarcastically remarked.

You immediately whipped your head around to meet the eyes of a man your heart ached for. Michael stood in the doorway, wearing all black. His hair was slightly longer, and he was even slightly taller but it was him. His beautiful blue eyes staring into your soul. You leapt up from your seat and ran to him. He welcomed you with open arms as you hung onto him for dear life.

“You came back.” you barely got out as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“I promised you, didn’t I?” he retorted.

You couldn’t think of anything else to say so you lifted your head and kissed him so fiercely it took the wind out of both of you. Neither of you let go for several minutes, basking in each other’s presence. Happy to be reunited.

“Where have you been? Why did you come back?” you questioned him.

“Well, darling, I already told you the answer to one of those questions. As for ‘where have I been?’. Well that’s a long story, love.” he responded.

“Well then... just one more question...what now? You left, you grew up. I’m still dead and stuck in this house for eternity. Why come back for something you can never fully have? You should have just stayed away.” you confessed. As much as it hurt to say, it was true. Michael could have a life, away from you, away from this demonic house. It’s what he should have done, but Michael wasn’t very good at doing what he was told.

“I came to fetch you, love. So we can be together, the way we were meant to. If you’ll have me?” he said.

“How?” you simply responded.

“While I was away, my powers became stronger. I’m pretty much the most powerful warlock to ever exist, darling. Aren’t you proud of me?” he asked with a cheeky grin on his angelic face.

“If that’s true, if you’re right. Then get me out of here, so we can be together.” you told him.

“Happily, Y/n.”

“So how are you going to do this?” you didn’t know what his plan was. How was he going to get you out of a place you’d tried to escape so many times but never could.

“Easy, I’m going to pay a visit to Hell and bring you back to life.” he said like he wasn’t just about to go Hell and resurrect you like jesus fucking christ.

“Umm...” was all you could say.

“Relax, I’ve got this. Go ahead, take a seat, it’ll take me a moment, dear.” you took a seat on the couch in the room. Michael laid down on the floor in front of you, closing his eyes. He started saying something that you couldn’t make out. It sounded like Latin. Suddenly you weren’t in the library anymore, you were in Michael’s old room. You looked around, confused as to how you could’ve switched rooms, having not moved. When you looked towards the door, there stood Michael, except it was him when he was younger. His hair was shorter again, he looked more child-like, more innocent.

“I’m leaving you.” he said, “I’m leaving and I’m never coming back, Y/n. I never even loved you.” he spat.

You were suddenly so overwhelmed with sadness. Michael just ripped out your heart and stomped on it. You were heart broken. You started to sob and call out for him. You grabbed him and tried to stop him from leaving. He simply shook you off as if you never meant anything to him, and slammed the door in your face. You fell to the floor, and cried your heart out.

“This is your hell?” you heard a voice ask, “This is so sad, Y/n.”

As you looked up the door was open and there stood Michael again. Except he was older, his hair was a little longer, and a little bit taller. How had he aged so quickly after breaking your heart so brutally?

“I’m not him, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m here to get you out, Y/n.” he said as he leaned over to you, holding out his hand. Wiping tears off your face you grabbed his hand and stood up. He took you and walked out of the room. As you walked through the door you saw a bright, white light. The next thing you knew you were sitting up, gasping for air.

“It’s alright, love, I’m here. I’m here.” you heard a calming voice come from beside you. You turned your head and it was your Michael again. The all grown up one. You were out, you made it out of Hell. You were suddenly overcome with so many emotions, having died, gone to Hell, and come back to life. You started to cry and quickly started hyperventilating. Then you felt his hands grab your face. He turned you to look directly into his eyes.

“Breathe, Y/n.” he commanded. It was like a switch. His command made your heartbeat immediately ease back to normal. Your breathing slowed and your tears dried up on your cheeks.

“You’re alright, you’re ok. You’re with me now, and I’m not leaving you. We’re getting out of here, there’s just one more thing I have to do.”

“What?” was all you managed to say.

“Well, darling, you died a 16 year old. And I’m not as young as I once was, so what do you say we help your aging process a little, seeing as you had a little hiccup in the road.” he brought you back from the dead, so aging didn’t seem as extreme of an experience to you, after what you just went through. Michael seemed to simply wave his hand before you, magically aging you a decade in only seconds. You didn’t feel anything particularly painful or weird. All you could think about was the night you died, remembering it so vividly. The drugs, your “friends” abandoning you, finding your own corpse. It flashed in your head like it happened yesterday, that moment haunting your every memory. When you finally realized Michael had finished, you quickly found a mirror in the room. Looking at yourself, you didn’t notice any huge changes. You looked like yourself, just more wrinkles and, that wasn’t a grey hair was it? You were too young for grey hair!

“What do you think?” Michael came up behind you, placing his hands on your waist, kissing you on the side of your head.

“I think we finally make sense as a couple.” you joked.

“I thought the Anti Christ dating a ghost made a lot of sense to me.” he laughed.

“Yeah, a little fucked up, but makes sense. But now we’re almost normal, like we can go on a date!” you squealed.

“A date? What’s that? It sounds absolutely disgusting.” he retorted.

“Oh come on Michael, they’re not that bad! Remember when we used to cuddle and have a horror movie marathon?”

“Yes.” he said.

“Well that’s a date! We can do more of that, maybe even go to an actual movie.” you explained.

“Honestly, as long as I’m with you, my love, I’ll do anything.” he professed.

You felt your heart start rapidly beating in your own chest, unfamiliar to the feeling of having a beating heart in your chest, having been a ghost for so many years.

“You know what we could do right now though?” you asked innocently, batting your eyes up at him, holding him close.

“And what’s that, dear?”

“This.” you said as you grabbed his face again, kissing him with so much passion and love you thought you’d explode trying to show him just how much you loved him. Michael responded eagerly, grabbing onto your waist, even dipping lower to grope your ass as you ran your fingers through his hair. As you made out, your tongues met and you swore you felt a spark so strong it made a shiver run down your spine, his hands following the path of the shiver, adding to the intensity. You were already dripping between the legs, ready to get to the main event. You didn’t wanna waste anymore time so in order for Michael to get the hint you caressed the front of his pants, feeling him harden under your touch. You started nipping at his neck and he finally had enough and threw you against the wall. He quickly rid you of your pants and underwear, as eager as you were to be one already. Once he had you half undressed he let you unzip his pants to pull his member out, giving it a few tugs. Michael suddenly grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up to hold you against the wall. As he held you, you guided his length inside of you and were finally connected. You crossed your legs behind his back, holding onto him for dear life. He thrust into you against the wall, careful not to bang your head on the wall. He started to pick up the pace and you were close so you started to kiss and suck at his neck again, pulling his hair. You heard him growl, which turned you on even more, accelerating you to your finish. With a couple more thrusts, he had you cumming, moaning into the quiet library. Michael quickly finished after you, moaning into your neck, and cursing your name, “Fuck, Y/n.”

Michael kept his head on your shoulder, getting control of his breathing as you did the same. When you both finally came down, he set you back on the ground, tucking himself back into his pants. He helped you get back into your clothes as well. Once again, you couldn’t help yourself and you kissed him with such a sweet, gentleness it made a tear fall out of Michael’s eye. When you lifted your head, he was smiling at you as you wiped his tear away, and kissed his forehead.

“Let’s go, Y/n. Let’s get out of here and take over the whole damn world together.” he started to pull you towards the front door.

As he pulled you to the door, you took a second, turning around and looking at the home you’d been trapped in for years. It was your own hell, but now it reflected your happiness. You died here, yes, but you were resurrected here, because of one man. And that man was pulling you out of the house, into the light. The same way he pulled you out of Hell. The only difference was this time, you were free. Michael may be the “Anti Christ” but he was your savior, and you never wanted to look back.

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs #American horror story #american horror story apocalypse #ahs apocalypse #cody fern #cody fern x reader

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