#OLD PEOPLE AT MY JOB LOVE CHATTING W/ ME MORE THAN YOUNG PEOPLE

[1loer]

Also since im here, i know for a fact that despite how he looks old people Love Kazuichi and he has No Fucking Idea Why. Like he’ll be anywhere and old people will dote on him and talk to him and treat him niceys and he could not for the life of him tell u why.

[arvinsescape]

Too busy.

A/N: I am so sorry this took a while to get out, but here it is! I hope you all enjoy, it is based off a request that @tomhollandlol sent me and I hope you also enjoy and thanks again for your patience. I did change a couple of things but stuck to the basic concept, I hope you don’t mind 💕

Request: Angst one shot, they have 2 kids together, different scenarios, he never pays attention and does something else and is always too busy.

Warnings: Bit of swearing, mentions of sex.

W/C: 4.2K

This last six months had been the hardest she’d ever had to go through, in her entire six years of marriage to Tom, this had been the hardest. Having two kids on top of that didn’t make it any easier, she felt alone, more alone than she had in her life, she was bringing up two children, seemingly on her own. Their eldest was almost four and their youngest was nine months old and teething, which meant she cried a lot.

Tom had been there for most of their journey, he shared the work load and it made life easier but this last six months haven’t ben the case. He became busier, he had two projects going at once and whilst she would happily make allowances for his career it was becoming too much for her. She hated the assumption that things should be easy because she was a stay-at-home mum but that was far from the truth. The children were so young that they needed her constant and undivided attention.

She was struggling to give two children her undivided attention and recently she’s become run down, completely running of fumes. She lives her life in a constant state of tired, she barely does a thing for herself, hell even a shower seemed like a hard task half of the time and Tom? Well half of the time she wasn’t a hundred per cent sure exactly what it was he was doing. She wondered how he hadn’t noticed, how he hadn’t seen the tiredness she constantly displayed.

Half of the mums at school had noticed, she saw it in their looks of pity when she arrived with her son, looking run down and disheveled because she couldn’t make herself look presentable. She didn’t have the time because either her baby would need something or her four-year-old which left no time for herself in a morning.

“Tom?” She shouted as she bounced Ava on her hip.

“Yeah?” He shouted back from where ever he was in the house.

“Can I get your help please?”

“Y/N, I’m busy.”

“You’re always busy.” She muttered to herself as she gave up and tried to soothe Ava on her own whilst making Noah’s lunch.

**

“Tom, I’ve just cleaned there.” She spoke, almost in disbelief as she watched her husband place his golf clubs in the middle of the hall.

“I’ll move them in a bit.” He shrugged. “I need to read over some stuff.” He said as he wandered down the hall and into his office. She couldn’t help herself as she flipped him off on his way, thankful he couldn’t see.

**

“Tom? Is there any chance you can take Noah to school tomorrow? I need to take Ava to an appointment and I don’t wanna be late again.”

“I can’t darling, I’m busy.” He answered, eyes on his laptop.

“Tom, please? I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” She tried and Tom looked up at her.

“Y/N/N, I am really busy right now. Just take Noah into school earlier and then you won’t be late.” He said and she looked at him in disbelief.

“Right, yeah, okay.” She huffed and left his office, shutting the door with enough force to let him know she was upset with him.

**

“Daddy! Look what I did.” Noah screamed as he made his way through the door.

“I’ll have a look in a bit my love, I’m busy at the moment.” Tom answered and their son huffed in response.

**

“Daddy!” Noah shouted as he ran into his father’s open arms. “Can we go for ice-cream?” He asked excitedly.

“Ask mummy, I have some work to do.” Tom said and Noah visibly deflated.

“She already said no, she’s too tired.” Noah mocked his mother’s voice.

“Well I expect she is tired.” Tom said, they never bad mouthed each other in front of the children. It wasn’t something either of them did.

“Why? She doesn’t work.” Noah folded his arms over his chest and Tom looked at him in a scalding manner.

“That’s not nice. Your mummy works really hard to make sure everything and everyone is okay. Don’t talk about her like that.”

“But she doesn’t do anything. She looks after us, my friends mummy works and she’s fine. Everyone at school has said it, she has nothing to be tired about, that’s what my friend’s mummy’s say.” Noah huffed, he had a bit of a temper streak. Tom’s heart plummeted, where people really shit talking his wife? To the point his son had become subject to it.

“That’s enough now Noah.” Tom said as he set his son down.

“Whatever. You’re always too busy and mummy’s always too tired. You’re both boring.” He snapped before running into his bedroom and slamming the door. This made Tom’s heart shatter, they were both trying to do the right thing. Tom really contemplated his life choices and in hind sight he wished he’d done something sooner, especially with the conversation he was about to have that evening.

**

“Tom, you are never here.” She exclaimed, a small comment having sparked an argument that had her struggling to keep her voice down.

“I’m busy. Look in a couple of months I’ll be here.” He said and she huffed folding her arms over her chest.

“You’re always busy Tom. I can’t remember the last time you put us first.”

“I’m doing this so I can take some more time off, Y/N, I don’t wanna be that guy but I earn the money, I can’t just stop working.” He snapped and she felt her anger rise in response.

“That’s bullshit,” she hissed out and he was taken aback by her tone. “You were in some of the biggest movies going a few years back. We are not struggling for money, that is some bullshit excuse for the fact that you’re not around.” She hissed, voice laced in nothing but venom.

“Look, I have a week off starting tomorrow, I don’t need to be anywhere and I won’t have any responsibilities, I can help.” He offered and she sighed, anger leaving her with nothing but defeat.

“I hope so.” She shrugged and Tom looked at her carefully.

“What do you mean?” He asked, there was something in her tone that scared him.

“I mean,” she sighed. “I can’t keep doing this, I’m tired and I need more from you.” She didn’t sound angry just tired and Tom felt his heart drop.

“Meaning?” He asked tentatively.

“Meaning, I can’t carry on doing this and next time it’s going to be a very different conversation. A conversation about us that I really don’t want to have but it’s come to that.” She sighed out before turning on her heel and leaving Tom with his thoughts. His heart shattered, had he really been so neglectful?

Tom was free for a week, which helped slightly because their son was always itching to spend time with his father. She thought this would mean that she got a little respite after their conversation the previous night but that’s not how it panned out.

“Y/N?” Her husbands voice echoed through the halls and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his tone. She shouted back her location within the house and few seconds later he appeared. “I need you to look after Noah.” He said, their son hot on his heels, she furrowed her brows.

“Why?” She couldn’t help but asked and Tom gave her a sympathetic look.

“I need to get some of this work done and as much as I love him he’s distracting me.” Tom spoke and she couldn’t help but huff, it was always something.

“I thought you were off this week?” She couldn’t help but ask, tone clipped and she instantly regretted using it in front of Noah.

“I was but then my agent emailed this morning and I now have a load of work to do.” He said, there was a sadness laced in his tone but she didn’t care. She passed him feeling bad about it, she needed him to put them first and recently he hasn’t.

“Fine, whatever.” She grumbled out a response and Tom felt awful, he could see how tired she was, he wouldn’t deny that. But these two projects were taking over and he felt just as tired trying to keep up. To anyone else looking in they would have said the couple needed to sit down and have a chat but of course relationships are more complex than that and the couple were still waiting to have said chat.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” Tom spoke and she sighed.

“It’s whatever Tom. He has some schoolwork he should be doing anyway.” She said, tone defeated and Tom sighed before nodding and making his way back into his office. He wanted to say something but he was afraid to start an argument in front of the children, the two had agreed that their arguments would be kept private, the children didn’t need to know about them.

She spent the afternoon trying to split herself between helping Noah with his math’s work and Ava with her teething. Noah was a bright child when it came to English and Art but Math’s? He was no good at and required a lot of help. She found herself growing frustrated the more she went through the work, she felt guilty but she was so tired she couldn’t help it.

“No, Noah. I’ve shown you this now. Come on, you need to work with me.” She said and instantly regretted the words.

“Mummy, I am trying but I don’t get it.” Noah said back as Ava burst into another flood of tears. She jumped up from her seat, Noah making a noise of annoyance at her actions. She scooped Ava into her arms and rocked her, it was making no difference, the ache in the child’s gum causing ample discomfort.

“Ava come on, shh, it’s okay. Calm down.” She said as she hastily scanned the living room in search of her teething ring. Her eyes landing on the object and she hastily picked it up before handing it to her daughter. She placed the ring in her mouth and instantly her screams calmed to small cries. Once she was settled enough, Y/N placed her back in her high chair and proceeded to help Noah.

She was tired by the end of the evening, her only job being left was to put Noah to bed and he just wouldn’t settle either. He wasn’t great at bed times, he was an alert child who found it hard to switch off for the day.

“Mummy, can we please have another story?” He asked and she felt herself deflate, all she wanted was to have a bath and go to bed.

“But sweetheart, I’ve already read two.” She tried to reason and Noah threw his book onto the floor which made her sigh out as she retrieved it.

“Please mummy? I’m not even tired, can’t I just play with my toys?” He asked, arms folded across his chest and she wasn’t prepared for what was to come next, signs of his temper tantrum approaching and fast.

“No sweetheart, you have school tomorrow.” She sighed out and she watched as her sons face turned into a rather sour expression.

“So? I’m not tired. How can I sleep if I’m not tired? You’re supposed to read to me.” He said and she sighed.

“Baby, mummy’s tired herself okay.” She said, she really didn’t have it in her to stay awake much longer.

“Then get daddy to read to me.” He huffed and she nodded before standing up and making her way into her husbands office, a soft knock pulling him from his work.

“Come in.” Tom’s voice spoke, eyes still trained on his emails.

“Tom? Can you read to Noah please?” She asked, hopefulness lacing her voice, her husbands eyes finding her tired ones. There was something about the way she looked tonight, the way she looked like she was struggling to keep herself stood that reality hit the man hard.

“Of course baby.” Tom said as he stood and he didn’t miss the flash of shock grace his wife’s face. He felt immensely guilty, he hadn’t been there for past six months and he could see what that was doing to her. “Have you eaten?” Tom asked and she shrugged.

“Bits but I’m not hungry.” She said as she rubbed at her red and tired eyes. Tom felt like an utter dick, he’d taken on too much and left his wife to pick up the pieces.

“You should eat.” Tom said and she shrugged.

“I just want to go to bed Tom.” She whispered out and he nodded in response before making his way over to her and kissing her forehead before pulling her into a hug.

“Then go sleep love. I’ve got Noah.” He spoke and she felt relieved, completely and utterly relieved, she didn’t even want the bath anymore, that could wait until tomorrow. She didn’t miss the excitement in her sons voice as Tom made his way into his room and she smiled before practically face planting the bed and falling asleep.

**

It was eight o clock in the morning when she woke, she felt sluggish as she grabbed for her phone and looked at the time. Heart beat picking up far too quickly for her bodies tired state.

“Shit.” She exclaimed as she rushed out of bed and into Noah’s room, only to find the bed empty. “Noah?” She shouted as she ran down the stairs, her mind was racing, she was running late. How had she slept for so many hours? And how had it gone interrupted?

“In here mummy.” Noah shouted back as she raced into the living room.

“I’m sorry, I’m up, I just need to get changed and then we can set off for school.” She rambled as ran into the kitchen to sort out his breakfast.

“Darling, slow down.” She heard Tom’s voice and she spun around to look at her husband, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a slight mess. How could he still look so good? She wished she could look as good as he did, even tired.

“What?” She looked around the kitchen, evidence that Noah had already had his breakfast. His school bag filled with the books for the day and his packed lunch.

“I’m gonna take him in. Go and chill out.” He spoke as he pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you.” She sighed and Tom nodded.

“I’ll take Ava and then you can get some rest if you need it, I’ll be back soon. I’ll do the shopping, should be an hour or so.” Tom spoke and her heart soared at his words.

“Did Ava sleep through?” She asked, realizing she’d not been woken up by her crying last night.

“Yeah, a few times. I slept in there, wanted you to catch up on some sleep.” He admitted and she could have cried with the happiness the revelation brought her. “We need to talk when I get home.” He spoke and she nodded. “Okay, well I’ll see you in an hour.” He said and she nodded before kissing her son good bye and making him promise to behave.

**

An hour and a half later and she’d had a relaxing bath, one that she was more than thankful and ready for. She’d even managed to have a hot cup of tea, a stark difference to the cold ones she was used to. She’d even managed to read a chapter of her new book, she still felt like she could sleep for a while but overall relaxed and content.

“Hey.” Tom said as he leant against the doorway to their bedroom. She placed her book down and looked at him.

“Hey,” she said somewhat awkwardly, she wasn’t sure how this conversation was about to go.

“I’ve just put Ava down, will probably give us a good hour or so.” He spoke and she nodded. “So,” he sighed. “We should talk.” He continued and she nodded again, words not being able to find her, she needed to know how he feeling, what he was going to say first.

“I’m sorry, I want you to know that. I’ve been so wrapped up in what I’ve been doing that I haven’t noticed what I was doing to you. I’m so used to you being the one who has everything together, who know exactly what to do that I thought you didn’t need my help as much as you do.” He started and she opened her mouth to speak but no words came out before he beat her to it.

“I know that’s not an excuse, it’s poor on my behalf and I’m sorry. You and the children, you mean everything to me. All I want in life is for you guys to get everything you want and need and I’m sorry that I’ve been the way that I have, there are no excuses.” He said and she felt her heart lift, the two could fix this, fix what has been happened. “But I need something from you.” He spoke and she furrowed her brows as she waited for him to continue.

“I need you to be honest, I need you to tell me what it’s been like to be you. I don’t want you to spare my feelings, I want you to let it all out. I’m listening now, darling, I need to know what this has done to you, how I can make it right.” He said and she nodded slightly before sitting up in bed properly, her back against the head board as she carefully played with her wedding ring. Tom sat carefully on the edge of the bed, he needed to hear what she was about to say.

“Tom, you’ve just not been here.” She started with her biggest problem. “Even when you are in the house it’s like you just expect me to do everything. You expect your clothes to be washed, dried and ironed, you expect your dinner on the table and I never used to mind. You would always say thank you but recently you haven’t and it made me wonder whether or not you just expect it of me, that it’s my job.” She started and Tom kept quiet, he wanted her to continue.

“Tom, you used to be so attentive.” She said as she reached over and took his hand in her own. “You always used to be here, know when I needed help without having to ask. I don’t mind doing all of those things for you, I really don’t but when you don’t get a thanks it feels a little like you’re being used.” She continued and his heart shattered, he would never intentionally use her, he loved her, loved his family.

“That brings me onto the kids, Tom they need so much attention. They want me to split myself in two half of the time and I can’t, it’s impossible. They both need so much from me and given Ava teething I don’t even get a full night’s sleep. I am constantly trying to run off energy that I just don’t have. It wasn’t so bad when Noah was a baby, we took shifts, you helped. Recently though Tom, it’s been me that gets up and tends to her, me that sacrifices sleep.”

“I know that might sound selfish but when you have a partner, a husband who’s supposed to help with all that it gets tiresome. I found myself getting so angry with you, I wanted to be you, I wanted to bury my head in paperwork and think of nothing else. There were days when I honestly wanted nothing to do with you, I didn’t want to be around you because everything little thing you did angered me.”

“I’ve been so tired, my mind is never where it should be. I’m always doing stupid things because I’m so tired. I never feel like I get anything back from you. I’m too tired to have an evening to myself when they have gone to sleep, I just want to sleep myself. I’m always running around after them, something you barely do anymore, sure you play with them but when was the last time you had to deal with one of Noah’s meltdowns?”

“I get that you have a lot on, I get that two projects keep you busy and if we didn’t have kids it wouldn’t affect me as much but we do and it does. I need you to be there for me Tom, I can’t keep doing this alone, I can’t.” She ended her rant and Tom felt awful, he was so angry with himself, she didn’t even sound angry anymore. She sounded like she’d accepted it and she was just tired with the situation, somehow he wishes she was screaming at him right now.

“I’m sorry princess. There are no words, no excuses for what I’ve done. I’m sorry I made you feel like that, it was never my intention. You mean the world to me, you and the kids. Things are gonna change, I promise.” Tom said, he knew now that actions spoke louder than words, it wasn’t what she wanted him to say it was what she wanted him to do.

“On top of all of that Tom, I can’t remember the last time we did anything as a couple. Most of the time I’m asleep when you get to bed, I can’t remember the last time we touched each other, it’s just draining. It all adds up.”

“I know darling. I promise things are gonna change. Why don’t you pick a film and I’ll be back in a minute?” He said and she nodded as she flicked the TV on and got herself comfortable in bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a day in bed. Tom returned almost ten minutes later and she wondered where he had gotten to.

“Where did you end up?” She asked as he made his way into the bedroom, two bottles of water in hand.

“Well, I grabbed these, I made sure Ava was still okay and the baby monitor is working properly and I had to send a couple of emails.” He admitted and her heart dropped, after everything she’d just said? He took in her expression as he placed the water down and jumped into bed with her. “Not like that darling, I’ve passed one of my projects onto Harrison and Harry, they’re gonna finish it up.” He said and she relaxed. “I promised things will change and they will.”

**

“Daddy!” Noah shouted as he ran to his father, who was there at the school gate to pick him up, Y/N right there next to him. It had been a while since they both picked him up. Ava was a little more settled today which made things a little easier.

“How was school?” Tom asked enthusiastically and then almost cried when he realised how long it had been since he asked that question.

“Amazing!” Noah gushed as he looked at his mother. “Mummy, you look so pretty.” He spoke and she laughed.

“She always looks pretty.” Tom defended her and Noah nodded.

“Yeah, but she looks extra pretty today.” Noah said. It had been a while since she was able to put effort into her appearance and she felt better for doing it. Even if it was only a nicely picked out outfit and tamed hair. “Can we go for ice cream?”

“You my boy have an obsession.” Tom laughed as he poked his son playfully. “But yeah, I think that’ll be a good idea.” Tom said as he looked to his wife who nodded in response. She didn’t miss the looks of jealousy thrown her way when they saw her with Tom.

“So what did you do this afternoon?” Noah asked his parents as he was being strapped into the back of the car.

“We watched a film.” Tom stated, it was an absolute lie, they’d gotten half an hour into the film before Tom had his head between his wife’s legs. It had been a while since they’d done anything like that and when they both realised that fact. When they both realised how long it had truly been since they’d done anything, they spent most of the afternoon catching up with each other’s bodies. In between tending to their baby of course, they both felt energized after their endeavors between the sheets.

“Was it good?”

“Absolutely amazing.” Y/N answered as Tom slipped into the driver’s seat, she took his hand in hers as she held it in her lap.

“Can we watch another film when we get home?” Noah asked excitedly.

“Sure, how about we go and spend the afternoon doing something fun and then we can go out for tea, go home and watch a film?” Tom suggested and Noah fist bumped the air.

“Yes! Does this mean you two aren’t going to be boring now?” Noah asked and Y/N and Tom found themselves laughing.

“Yes, this means we aren’t going to be boring anymore.”

[thedistantdusk]

Thanks to @jenoramaca @gryffindorhealer and @secretkeeper13 for the quick beta work!

A gift for my beloved @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey.

CW: Language and domestic fluff

______

Trying

From the second he walks through the door, Harry can sense that something’s changed. It takes him thirty minutes to suss out why.

In retrospect, the smells coming from the kitchen probably tipped him off. Or maybe it was Ginny’s distracted hum, followed by the tinkling of plates and cutlery. Perhaps it was the fact that she prepared a full dinner, long before he even got home.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t worry about it too much as he greets her with a kiss, his hands cupping her chin. When he sits across from her at the table, there’s something furtive and curious lurking behind her eyes, but their meal is so peppered with normalcy that he doesn’t bring it up. They banter and laugh about Luna and Robards and wonder what they’ll bring to the Burrow on Sunday.

But when they’ve reached the stage of chasing stray noodles around their plates, Ginny finally clears her throat… and just like that, the nearly imperceptible shift he’d sensed earlier turns into something very perceptible, indeed. “Can I erm. Talk to you about something?”

He pauses, mid-bite, and takes her in. Her lip’s worried between her teeth, her hands fidgeting. Even her hair, normally strewn about her shoulders or parted to the side with a sort of effortless grace, is tied back and resting low at the base of her neck.

Ginny’s not normally this… serious. And he’d be lying to say it didn’t frighten him.

So he blurts the first thing that comes to mind. “Who died?”

There’s a half-second pause in which his chest clenches, his stomach churns. Could it be Molly? Or Arthur? George hasn’t been great either, not that—

But Ginny just reels back, confused… and it’s not until then that Harry realizes he’s really, really misread something.

“I… w-what?” she stammers, brow furrowing. She peers at him for a pained moment before her face relaxes into a look of understanding. “Oh. Oh! For fuck’s sake,” she mutters, rubbing her forehead. “I guess I’m thicker than usual, should’ve known you’d read it that way.”

Harry snorts. “Erm… darling, as many things as I legitimately don’t understand, I’m fairly sure this one isn’t on me.”

Ginny ignores this. “Did you seriously think that something dreadful happened and I’d just spring that on you in the middle of your bolognese?” Her lips twitch into a smirk. “Here’s some pasta. By the way, a fire burned a puppy orphanage to the ground. Could you pass the salt?”

He gives her a plain stare. Nice try. Years ago, he might’ve taken the bait and chased her down that rabbit hole. They might’ve had an hour-long, spirited debate on the existence of puppy-specific orphanages. But after three years of marriage, he knows better.

And she knows he knows.

Ginny finally draws a resigned breath. “No,” she says slowly. “No one died, ok? Or is even… I don’t know, sick or infirmed or threatened.” She waves her hand and continues babbling. “Last I checked, even Muriel’s still going strong, somehow. I’m jealous of that, you know— being old enough to just say whatever the fuck you’d like and have no one question it because—”

“—Ginny,” he cuts across on an exasperated sigh. “As chuffed as I am to chat about Muriel all night, I’d really like to know what’s bothering you. Please?”

There’s another pause as she bites her lip. Then, in one swift motion, she attempts to rise to her feet and push her chair in on her way over to him.

But somewhere along the way, something gets crossed— and Harry watches in bewildered horror as her foot catches on the leg of the chair. Then, right in front of his eyes, she lets out a startled gasp, her arms flailing, before she lands with a thump.

He’s out of his seat and on the floor beside her before he even realizes she’s cried out in pain and surprise. “Are you ok?” he demands, pushing her jeans up around her ankle… her tricky ankle, the one she hurt rather badly at the playoffs last month. Hm. It's a bit red.

Honestly, she hasn’t been this clumsy since she was 10 years old and near a butter dish. This does nothing to alleviate his fears that there’s something Very Wrong.”

“It’s not even my ankle that hurts,” Ginny grits, pushing up on her palms. “Wait— Harry, what are you—”

“Need to ask Gwenog,” he says urgently, running to the other side of the table for his wand. “She said that if anything happens to your ankle to tell her straight away, remember? Better safe than—”

She scoffs. “Seriously, Harry, I’m fine! I didn’t even land on my—”

He arches an eyebrow. “Have you suddenly forgotten the Puddlemere match? When your ankle broke clean through the skin?” Even now, the memory makes him shudder. “You heard Gwenog— without magic, you might not have walked again.”

“But there was magic,” she says, almost pleading. “And seriously, I’m fine!”

Harry finds he has limited patience for her heroics, though, while she’s sprawled out on the floor and nursing a bruise on her arse. “Gwenog’s instructions were quite clear,” he says firmly. “Having a pro athlete as a wife is a group task. It’s taxing on your body. I’ve got to make sure there’s enough of you left to enjoy our lives.”

Ginny clears her throat. “Erm… but what if you… haven’t actually got a pro athlete as a wife. Technically speaking.”

Harry swallows. He’s sure he’s heard her wrong. “What?”

With a wince, she adjusts herself against the wall. “I’m sorry… this isn’t how I’d planned to tell you. I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?”

Normally, Harry might press a bit harder. Normally he’d demand answers— and now. But as he peers at her on the floor, there’s something soft and uncertain behind her eyes… something timid. So he decides to do something he knows he’s good at— something she doesn’t let many other people do: take care of her.

With a sigh, he scoops her from the floor and brings her to the sofa. Then he props her against the pillows, putting her legs across his lap.

And he waits.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, peering at her downcast face, before she finally says it in a rush.

“Iwanttohaveababy.”

It comes on a whisper. A breathed admission. He knows, just from her expression, that she’s never said it aloud.

But he must have misunderstood. There’s no way he’s not projecting, inserting the reality he wants instead. “Could you… could you repeat that?” he manages, his voice gruff and shaken.

Ginny just sits up straighter; her cheeks as red as her hair. “I want to have a baby,” she repeats, the confidence building with every word.

Oh. Looks like he was right after all.

Harry blinks at the carpet, his head spinning, mortified with the tears that have sprung, unbidden, to the corners of his eyes.

A baby. Their baby. A smile plays at his lips as he stares at her ankle in distracted bliss. He’s been ready for ages… longer than anyone he knows. It’s hard to remember a time when he didn’t want a family with her. When he didn’t want to watch her grow and change. To become more beautiful with every passing day until…

He swallows back another round of tears; he’d never forgive himself if he forced this… if he swayed her, in any way, despite what he wants so badly it squeezes his insides.

“But what about quidditch?” His voice cracks; he clears his throat to cover it. “Honestly Ginny, I’ll wait, as long as you’d like. We’re young. Think of what you’d deal with, loads of assumptions and press and comments.”

She turns to him with an arched brow. “And since when have I ever cared about comments? Since when have you cared about comments?”

He spreads his palms in resignation; it was a particularly weak argument. “I know. I just… don’t want to make your life more difficult.”

“Well...” She draws a deep breath and peers down at her nails. “I’ve erm. Actually quit the Harpies, all by myself.” Her cheeks begin to redden again. “I’ve already sent the owl and everything. Resigned. No intent to return next season.”

Oh.

That’s what she meant, then, about not being married to a professional athlete. Harry blinks a few more times as she plows through an explanation that could honestly be something from a dream.

“I’ve… I’ve just been thinking about it. A lot,” she adds, focus returning to her cuticles. “The Harpies are out for the rest of the season— that fucking Puddlemere match and that bullshit ref.” She glares at the pillow to her right. “Nothing like blind favoritism. Fucking prick should’ve been fired!”

All Harry can manage is a feeble chuckle, his hand moving to caress her knee. This time, he can’t bring himself to stop her spiral.

“Maybe it’s not just that match, though,” she admits, rubbing her ankle. “It’s also just… so much bloody work. I’ve been at it three whole seasons, you know? I’m a bit tired of missing birthdays. And family events. And only dreaming of bludgers and snitches. And attending the mandatory press interviews to avoid getting fined, and then giving polite answers to personal questions when I really just want to hex them, and—”

Harry laughs. “I think Sandra Richardson might disagree about the polite answers bit, darling.”

Ginny gives a dignified sniff and continues as if she hasn’t heard him. “Annnyway,” she says, toying with a piece of lint. “I… feel like I’m ready to move on. So.” Her face splits into a grin as she gestures to the corridor. “On with it.”

He clears his throat. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that, I’m confused about how this relates to quitting your job. You could’ve kept playing. Or—”

“—Why is it so hard to believe this is something I want?”

There’s a beat. He doesn’t have a good answer.

“What if I wanted to quit before I got pregnant?” she continues, her tone growing more demanding. “What if I was done with playing, regardless — and genuinely wanted to have children? Your children.”

She lets out an incredulous laugh, tossing her hands in the air. “I have to say, Harry, this feels an awful lot like you’re doubting what I actually want to fit a narrative of what you think I want.” Her eyes narrow again. “Is that really respecting my wishes?”

“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head. He’d never thought about it like that before… how it might be insulting, really, to question what she’s ready for. He laces their fingers together, feeling properly chastened. “I’m sorry. I never meant to… suggest you don’t know what you want. Or something.”

He hears the timid smile in her voice as she squeezes his hand back. “Do you still want a baby, then?” she asks. “Or are you just in it for the practice?”

A smile creeps across his face, his eyes still focused on her hands. “I… think you know the answer to that one.”

“Well, I’m not sure I do,” Ginny says flatly. “Because I just told someone who wants two million babies that I’m ready to carry his first child. Forgive me if I expected a bit more excited fanfare than acting like I drowned your kitten.”

“What’s with you and baby animals today?” he murmurs, inching her pant leg a bit higher.

“Wonder why I’ve got babies on the brain,” she quips, raising her eyebrows. “Maybe because I want one.”

Harry releases a resigned sigh. She’s clearly done playing. “Honestly…” He bites his lip. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, I’m obviously on board. Obviously.” His eyes flit to hers. “I just… I don’t want to be responsible for something you end up regretting.”

It’s the truth of the matter, really; the thing that tugs at him the hardest. The fear he’d ever burden her… the worry he’d ever make her less than happy.

Ginny gives him a small smile, her hand coming to cup his jaw. “I’m going to take that as a weird, sad Harry thing instead of an attempt to remove my womanly agency.” She narrows her eyes. “But that’s your final warning.”

Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s on his feet in a split-second, gathering her into his arms with the stupidest grin he’s ever worn. Trying. Is that what they call this? Are they actually properly trying now?

“Get used to this,” she says as he strides into the bedroom. “Because once you knock me up— on purpose, mind— I’m going to request a lot more transportation.”

“I think I can live with that,” Harry murmurs against her lips, draping her across the bed.

And to avoid a well-deserved slap, he doesn’t say the final bit: As long as you can live with me.

[ravennm84]

The Laptop

So, I read a prompt from @charming-mage about Lila’s laptop being damaged and her mother finds out that Lila’s been lying to her and the school. I thought it was a cute idea and the girl would have no way of trying to turn things onto Marinette, so I went with it. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

It was a silly little accident that ended up exposing everything. Lila had accidentally spilt coffee on her laptop and caused it to short out. Her mother, being terrible with technology, had taken it to a repair shop to see if it could be saved. 

Greta Rossi had taken her lunch break and gone to the repair shop to check on the state of the laptop. The woman behind the counter, Evelyn, gave her head a shake, saying there was too much corrosion and the damage to the motherboard. “Best I can tell, you didn’t unplug it, take out the battery, or tilt it to let the liquid drain out away from the main components. That was pretty much a death sentence to this thing.”

Greta groaned at that. It would be expensive to buy her daughter a new laptop, but it was necessary so she could do her homework and communicate with her friends when akuma attacks were so bad that the school shut down. “Were you able to save anything?” She asked the woman.

“Some things,” she nodded, handing Greta a flashdrive. “Mostly your photos, some saved documents, I also noticed that you were emailing your daughter’s school when the laptop was damaged. I was able to save that conversation for you.”

Her hand froze as she stared at the woman. “Are you sure? I only ask because that wasn’t my laptop, that was my daughter’s laptop.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly before nodding. “It was the first thing I was able to recover since it was mid-correspondence. I assumed it was your laptop since the emails were addressed to you and were signed by you. If that’s not the case… I think you should probably read those emails and talk to your daughter’s principal as soon as possible.”

A little uncertain of what the woman just told her, Greta called the Embassy to tell them she would be taking the rest of the day off. Going home, she plugged in the flashdrive and started looking over the emails that Evelyn had mentioned. Sure enough, they were between Principal Damocles and supposedly signed by her. The first emails were dated the day Lila had told her the school was closed due to akuma attacks, only the email said that she was pulling Lila out of school to go on a diplomatic trip to Achu. 

A little taken aback, Greta looked up the akuma incidents to see just how bad things were. She normally wasn’t permitted to look up these kinds of things at work, nor did she ever have the time since she had to make sure the Ambassador’s days were scheduled down to the minute and all the paperwork was ready to be signed. But now that she had a moment to look, she could see videos of Ladybug and Chat Noir defeating every akuma… and two of the akumas had been her own daughter! This meant that Lila had been lying to her for months!

The next email was from the day of the Scarlet Moth incident, she remembered her co-workers talking about it. That email to Damocles said that her number had changed and gave a new number, which just happened to be Lila’s number.

Another email requesting doctors notes for Lila’s numerous injuries and disabilities: tinnitus, a sprained wrist, a dislocated kneecap, and tonsolatius. Lila had responded with photocopied doctors’ notes that even Greta could tell were fake, and the principal had responded with gratitude for the prompt response.

Some of the more recent emails spoke about Lila being pushed down the stairs by another student and how a family heirloom had been stolen by the same student! Only to be followed by another email requesting another doctor’s note referencing a disease Lila claimed to have that makes her lie uncontrollably. Was the principal a total idiot? 

The most recent email, the one Lila had been working on when the laptop was destroyed, stopped mid-sentence as Greta Rossi told Damocles that she and Lila would be going on another extended diplomatic trip to London, as she would be working personally with the Queen of England. If Greta hadn’t been furious at her daughter before, she sure was now. 

Still, part of her wanted to have some faith in her daughter, so she would set up a test when Lila got home. Which, coincidentally, wouldn’t be long as she had spent a good few hours reading over the emails and she had finally looked into akuma reports that had occurred since they had moved to Paris.

Lila came home about half an hour later, texting on her phone with a cruel smile, but abruptly stopped when she saw her mother. “Mama, you’re home early. Is it because of the akuma attacks?”

“No, mia bella. I was just given the afternoon off, so I decided to spend it with you. How was school?”

Watching her daughter carefully, she saw her change in posture and expression as she began to do the same fake crying she did when she was 6 years old. “Oh Mama, it was terrible. The school got attacked by another akuma and Chat Noir was just so reckless, his Cataclysm destroyed half of the school. It got closed down until repairs can be completed again.”

“Mia Bella! You weren’t hurt, were you?” Greta asked, faking shock and worry. She suspected that Lila had completed the email on her tablet or a computer at school and sent it to Damocles. Now, her daughter was trying to make an excuse as to why she was staying home. But Greta wasn’t about to be fooled again. Oh no, she had given her daughter a chance and now she was going to make her pay. “That’s it, I can’t allow you to keep attending such a dangerous place.”

Lila stopped mid-sob to look at her mother in surprise. “W-what are you saying?”

“Lila, from what you’ve told me about Hawkmoth, the akuma’s, and those terrible vigilanties; I can’t force you to stay in such a dangerous place due to my job. Go to your room and pack, I’ll call your Zio e Zia in Italia and ask if they can take you in while I finish my assignment here in Paris.” Greta continued to watch her daughter as she spoke, her expression becoming more and more panicked and upset as she spoke. Lila had never liked staying with her uncle and aunt because they lived on a farm that was far from everything, had no internet or cell service, and Greta’s brother was of the mindset that if you didn’t work on the farm, you didn’t eat.

“Bu-but Mama, you can’t just send me away like this! What about school-”

“You just told me that the school was shut down again due to the attacks, and after all the other times the school has been closed, I doubt if you’ll be able to graduate with the other schools or even be accepted into lycee at this point. At least if I send you back to Italia, you’ll be safe and be able to go to school without worrying about being attacked.” Reaching forward, Greta took Lila’s hands firmly between her own. “Please understand, mia bella, I am your mother and I love you more than anything. Even if you’re upset with me, I must do what is best for you and your future.”

Lila didn’t bother hiding her scowl as she tried to tug her hands from her mother’s grip. Then the girl really looked at her mother’s face and realized something was wrong. “Mama?”

Greta returned her scowl. “I am very disappointed in you, young lady. I was giving you a chance to come clean and tell me the truth.” Lila’s eyes blew wide open and was about to say something, but was cut off. “I saw those emails between myself and M. Damocles on your computer. Funny thing, I don’t remember writing them. I also don’t recall changing my contact number, going on a diplomatic trip to Achu, or telling him about a bunch of injuries, disabilities, and diseases that you don’t have. I also don’t remember my bosses assigning me to go on another diplomatic trip to London to work with the Queen of England, seeing as I’m not an ambassador.”

“Wait, Mama! I swear, I can explain-”

“You’ve already said enough! You and I are going to the school right now to speak with M. Damocles. You are going to tell him everything that you’ve been lying about and I’m going to have a talk with him about your supposed fall down the stairs since I’m pretty sure you lied about that as well since I was never notified and you were never taken to the hospital.”

“No, Mama! Please-”

“Be quiet! If you dare try to fight me on this or say one more lie, you will be on a plane back to Italia tonight and spend the rest of your school career with your Zio e Zia, understand?

Pouting the entire time. Lila went back to the school with her mother and was forced to confess to everything she had lied about. M. Damocles also ended up looking at the CCTV footage, something that Greta thought he should have done in the first place, and showed that her daughter had not been pushed down the stairs and had planted the not-family-heirloom in the other student’s locker. Greta demanded that he tell Lila’s class exactly what her daughter had done and that he apologize to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng for getting her expelled. She also demanded the student’s information so she could speak with the girl’s parents and force Lila to apologize. Damocles, still thinking that Greta was an ambassador, told her about the bakery and promised that he would alert the class to Lila’s misdeeds before the two Rossis were out the door. 

Greta thought the Dupain-Chengs were wonderful people, offering them pastries as soon as they were upstairs and listened intently to her when she described the things that her daughter had been lying about. When she asked Marinette for her side of the story, Greta got even angrier at Lila. Threatening, bullying, and framing that poor girl when all Marinette had done was tell Lila to stop lying to her friends. Not only had she been lying to the school and her classmates, but all of Paris, if she were to go by the posts on the Ladyblog that Marinette showed her. She had never been more disappointed in her daughter. 

Once they got home, Greta forced Lila into her room and confiscated her phone and tablet. “I thought it was bad when you were lying to the school and playing truant, but now I find out that you are being a bully, and tempting a terrorist to attack you! How foolish are you?”

“Why are you believing that goodie-two-shoes ove-”

“I believe her because there is literally video evidence of you setting her up and trying to get her expelled! After what you’ve done, you’ll probably get expelled!”

“What!? But I didn’t do-”

“You bullied a student, committed months of truancy, forged signatures on doctors’ notes, and changed my contact information so the school couldn’t contact me. Any one of those are grounds for expulsion!” Greta shook her head in disgust when she saw the shock on her daughter’s face. Lila actually believed that she wouldn’t be punished for all the things she had done. Well, that was not something that she was going to allow, and she didn’t trust the principal or Lila’s teacher to do the right thing by her daughter anymore. “You know what, pack your bags right now. I’m calling my brother and putting you on a plane tonight. It’s clear that you need to learn some responsibility, and I highly doubt that you’re going to do that here.”

Lila tried to argue with her, but no amount of begging, pleading, or threats was going to change her mind. Lila was on a plane back to Italy within a few hours and Greta would be spending the next month cleaning up the mess her daughter had made in Paris. She was fortunate that she was able to keep her job. Luckily for her, her boss was a big fan of the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and she had told him when she had brought in a big box of the pastries. That smoothed things over a bit, although she was no longer permitted to bring her daughter on assignments anymore. Greta considered that a small price to pay to keep her job, and maybe her daughter would learn that her actions have lasting consequences.

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @bayball @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld  @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @seesea22 @seraphichana @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

[writingsbychlo]

little drummer boy | drummer!dylan o’brien

word count; 10,892

summary; bumping into an old flame from your past with your son can have some odd repercussions.

notes; this made me tear up to write, brace yourselves for some deep feelings.

warnings; a little bit of heartbreak. that’s about it.

“Santa! There he is!” You grinned, gasping a little as your arm was jerked roughly, almost tripping over your own feet as the boy half your size pulled you along with twice your strength, and you were gripping onto his hand tightly just to not let him slip away as he took off.

The line was surprisingly short - but then again - it was the day before Christmas Eve, late at night and just before the mall was shutting, most of the crowds were filled with teens and young adults, meeting up with friends or going on festive-themed dates, before the big holiday date staring you in the eye, and even you had to admit that it was late to do any kind of last-minute shopping. “Baby, slow down! You’re hurting my arm!”

His speed did drop, bright and round eyes peering up at you, bottom lip jutting out slightly as he came to a halt just before the grotto. “I’m sorry, mommy, but look! He’s really in there!”

The teen dressed up as an elf out front did not look best pleased about having such a late-arriving customer, the girl putting down her phone, before doing her best to wear a bright smile as she greeted your son, taking his hand and guiding him towards the curtain covered entrance. You followed behind, snapping a picture of the bright smile on his face when he turned back to look at you, before he was disappearing behind the curtain. There was a loud laugh, a typical ‘ho, ho, ho’, and then the loud squealing of your little boy, clapping of his small hands, and your heart leapt in your chest.

Being a young mother was hard, and being a single mother was even harder, but moments like this made it all worth it, because as you covered your mouth to hide your chuckles so that he didn’t feel as though you were invading on his personal space. He was worth every hard moment, because you loved him with all of your heart, and now, he was pouring out his deepest desires out to the man dressed up as his idol, and you were noting it down.

The usual; chocolates, stuffed animals, a spider-man backpack, a onesie with the feet on. It was all stuff you’d already bought, gifts that you had wrapped up and hidden in your room, under the bed or on top of the wardrobe to keep them concealed, ready to stack up under the Christmas tree for him. You had big plans this year, the last few years had been tough, but with your son starting his first ear with full-time education, you’d been able to get a job, bringing some real money into the household for the two of you, and you felt like your life was finally picking up.

Leaving college hadn't been the bright experience that most people were able to boast of, jobs lines up and careers ahead, but you barely even finished your senior year, and nobody wanted to hire a college graduate who was sixth months pregnant, and ready to go on maternity leave, and you’d never had that same kickstart in life. It wasn’t how you expected it to go, to have a four-year-old by the time you were reaching your mid-twenties, but it was the way it had turned out, and so you’d made it work.

The final request caught your attention, a groan rising in your throat just at the implications of it, and you could already hear the banging on your front door of neighbours wanting to complain, or of the landlord telling you to keep it down, because a four-year-old set loose with a drumkit sounded like a recipe for disaster. You were going to ignore it, push down that desperate urge to make your child happy, but then there was a sign in the toy store just across the road, and you wanted to whine like an infant at the fact that subconsciously, you knew you’d already made the decision.  

The elf was standing at the exit, the pathway lined by candy-cane lanterns, and you made your way over to her quickly. “Can you keep him busy in there for five more minutes?”

“Huh?” She startled a little, looking up, and trying to put her phone away while she was on shift, as if it hadn't already been obvious both times.

You pointed across to the toystore, before looking back to her. “I’ll be right there, I’m going to go and order him that drumset he just asked for. Can you just keep him busy in there for a moment?”

She smiled a little, shrugging her shoulder, before peering back inside and nodding her head. “He’s chatting his ear off about the reindeers, anyway. Cute kid, really chatty, but in that entertaining and funny kind of way.”

You grinned, knowing it to be true, and thanking her, before you were dashing away to the shop. The grotto was still in your sight, you never took your eyes off of it, telling the store assistant that you had to be quick, to which they were more than happy to cooperate. You had it booked, paid for, and delivery set for later that night with the premium option, before you were dashing back over, just as your son was leaving.

He glanced around for a moment, before spotting you, his face lighting up as he dashed over to you, a golden package sitting in both of his hands. “Look, mommy, Santa gave me a chocolate reindeer!”

“He did? Are you serious?”

“Yeah! Look!” He thrust it upwards towards your face, and you took it from him, tucking it into your bag safely and taking his hand. “Can I eat it later?”

“You can have ice-cream or the reindeer, but not both. Which do you want?”

He pouted at you, wanting both, but you knew he couldn't take the sugar rush, and so despite his puppy-eyes, you were forced to be stern with him. “I want the ice-cream.” He grumbled the words out, taking your hand but not returning the squeeze you gave to him, choosing the reason that you had come to the mall in the first place. It had been a trip out for a sweet treat, but then he’d seen the signs to see Santa, and become completely distracted.

“Good choice! I bet they have some rocky-road left, and you love the little marshmallows, right?” He nodded eagerly, the two of you stepping towards the escalators, stepping onto the machines, and he bounced excitedly always loving the moving steps, holding on tightly to the bannister. Live music was playing, a band set up on the stage below, and you couldn’t see much, the large crowd gathered around them making it hard for you to make the name out, but they were pretty good, you had to admit, and your snow as staring at them in awe.

More precisely, he was staring at the drummer, a soft laugh to yourself leaving your lips as you watched him stare on with rapt attention. There was something familiar about the man, even from this distance, you couldn’t make out much about him, and as you stepped off of the machinery at the bottom floor, he was obstructed from your view, and so you shrugged it off.

“Do you want to go and watch the band?”

“Can we really?” He was so excited, and you treasured knowing your child well enough to get that kind of reaction from him, nodding your head and pushing him toward them a little.

“Just for a few songs, then we’ll get ice-cream, before you get tired, okay?”

He hummed his acknowledgement, already distracted, and trying to pull you around the edges of the crowd to get to the front. When he couldn’t get through, the song building as it started coming towards an end, he let go of your hand, small stature making it much easier for him to duck and weave between the people, disappearing from your sight as he headed toward the stage, and your heart leapt up into your throat.

You couldn't see him, trying to remember was he was wearing so that you could start picking him out, nudging through the crowds and past people, panic beginning to build in your throat. Ten minutes passed, the crowd thinning and the songs coming to an end, and yet you still couldn’t find him. Whipping around on your heel, you tried to find him, spinning in circles, feeling like you could barely breathe, before his voice was calling out to you.

“Mommy!”

You could scarcely tell the direction in which he was shouting from over the new, classical hymns playing over the crackling mall speakers. You were looking at the floor, hearing him shout from a little closer, and you looked up, finding him sitting above the crowds. His hands were waving to you, wobbling a little bit from the height, and you were scared in an entirely new way, because he was sitting up on someone’s shoulders.

“Can you see your mom, buddy? Which way?”

He pointed, and you felt a vague spark of familiarity run through you at the muffled sound of the voice through the crowds, before your son was moving toward you as you moved toward him. When you got there, you could have cried in relief, watching as two strong arms lifted him down from broad shoulders, before you were taking him into your arms, holding him to your chest and cupping the back of his head.

You’d never had that kind of scare before, the stinging in the back of your throat making itself known as you tried not to cry, feeling him hug you back just as tightly. Finally, you crouched down, letting him stand on his own two feet once again, before you were taking a deep breath, and pulling back to look at your son. “Don’t do that to me! Do you know how scared I was? You know not to run off!”

“I wanted to see the band!”

“You have to wait for me, alright? Never run off on your own!” He nodded, tears lining his eyes as his head hung, and you felt a pang of guilt for shouting at him, but it was unnecessary evil, and you tried not to cry in front of him, tipping his head back up. “It’s okay, I’m not mad anymore. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“I’m sorry, mommy.” His voice cracked a little, and you sighed, hugging him close to you once again, and his little arms wrapped around your neck. You took a moment to glance up, eyes narrowing on the man who’d brought you back your son, something like nostalgia washing over you, and he was fixing you with the same look, before his eyes were widening. It only took you a second longer to process it, before recognition was coming crashing down over you, and you were gaping at him. Standing to your full height, you took him in a little more clearly, eyes sweeping over his face, and you felt like your breath had been punched from your lungs.

“Dylan?”

“Hey, sweetheart.” There was a sweet tone to his voice, words you’d heard in that tone so many times before, a dull-aching in your chest, but your lips formed a smile nonetheless, drowning in how it felt to be around him once again.

It had been years, and that time had been kind to him. The baby face you’d known was gone, the sweet smile had matured, a cocky smirk accompanying it, something playful and cheeky, stubble lining the skin that had once been smooth, neat but messy, scruffy in a way he perfected, and the buzzcut he’d always worn had grown out into longer strands, matted to his forehead a little from sweat, and you licked at your lips, taking him in. The one thing that hadn't changed, though, was the way those honey-brown eyes still swirled with some kind of deep affection and emotion that you were drowning in.

His eyes dropped down to your son, and you placed your hands on his shoulders, watching the slightly nervous look that flickered over his features as he met your gaze once again. “You have a son.”

“Yeah, he’s four.” He let out a little sigh of relief, both of you swallowing thickly, before he was letting the tension go, his shoulders dropping, and he was holding his arms out for you. You were quick to fall into his arms, feeling the solid muscle beneath that was a new development, and you felt something shift into place as you were wrapped in his embrace once again. It had been so long, years since you’d seen him, leaving for college and thinking he was just someone who would fade away into your memory, and you’d never expected that you would run back into him at a mall charity performance for Christmas, but at least one of you had achieved your dreams, he was pursuing his music, and you couldn't be prouder.

“Mommy! You know a famous person!”

You both let out a laugh, releasing one another and you tried to ignore the heat crawling up your cheeks at the embarrassment of having almost forgotten where you were. “Yeah, kiddo, this is Dylan. He’s a drummer!”

“I know! I saw him on stage!”

Dylan crouched down before your son, a beaming smile on his face. “You looked pretty good yourself, buddy. Playing air drums! Do you want to be a drummer?”

“Yeah! Santa is going to bring me a drum kit!” Dylan’s eyes flicked up to you, and you rolled your eyes fondly, but nodded your head in confirmation, and Dylan looked back to your son.

“You saw Santa, then? How lucky are you?” He poked at your son’s side, the boy curling up and laughing in a fit of hysterics and being tickled, and having such attention on himself, and you hated the way your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest at the sight.

“Yeah! We’re going for ice-cream, too!”

“Oh, you are? It must be Christmas, look at all the treats you’re getting!” He stood back up, using his free hand to take Dylan’s and you could’ve choked on your own breath at the sight.

“Will you come for ice-cream with us?” You froze, jaw dropping, before looking back over to the stage, and your son was staring at your expectantly, Dylan looking down at the boy, clearly at a loss for words too, and he was tugging at your hands needily. “He can come too, right, mommy?”

“Yeah, sure.” You didn’t have to think much about the decision, and Dylan smiled a little. “You don’t have any more sets to do, right?”

“No, I just have to pack up the drums, the rest of the band can take it out, and I’ll catch a cab home.”

“Cool. We’ll, uh, meet you there, then?” Dylan only nodded, staring at you for a second longer, before you could feel your son swinging your arms with boredom, and you cleared your throat.

“I’ll be there soon.”

You could only nod, pointing out the little store you would be going to on the other side of the mall, and he nodded, walking backwards away from you both, scratching at the back of his neck, and waving to your son before turning back and going ahead to start disassembling the instruments.

You followed after your son, mind spinning, barely able to hear the words he was saying as he chattered away beside you, because you felt like you were drowning in your thoughts. Your son had his face all but pressed to the glass, breath fogging up the cool surface as he stared at the different flavours, the woman behind the counter cooing at him as she held the little cardboard cup in her hands.

When he finally chose a scoop of rocky-road, a scoop of mint, and a scoop of strawberry swirl, you paid for both your own, and another pot, handing her over the money, before grabbing the little plastic spoons and letting him lead you over to the booth in the back, watching him run away toward the hidden leather seats in the back, gripping his pit in both hands, and it was a relief that he simply didn’t drop it.

As he climbed up, you settled in beside him, and he was already pushing a spoon of ice-cream into his mouth, before looking down at your pot. “Why do you get more than me?”

“Because adults and big kids can handle more! You don’t want to get a brain freeze, do you?” His face screwed up at the implication, and you laughed, kissing the top of his head. You pulled away, lifting up your own spoon, and tucking into the frozen treat. You were a little calmer now, trying to sift through your thoughts, and the little bell over the door to the fifties style ice-cream parlour dinged, a familiar body walking through the door, and you felt like you were reliving the last day of senior summer all over again.

He took his seat, eyes widening a little as he saw the pot of mango and vanilla sitting there. “You got me ice-cream?”

“Is it still your favourite?” You offered, taking a bite of your own, and he nodded, staring down at it for a second, before raising his hands to pick up the cardboard and the spoon.

“Yeah, it is. I just can’t believe you remember that, is all.”

You opened your mouth to speak, before your snow as taking over, jumping straight into asking your old friend what it was like to be in a band, both of you laughing, before he was beginning to answer all of the questions being fired at him. It was incredible, to watch you son interact with someone else, he often took a while to warm up to anyone else, and your heart was warming and aching at the same time, because it had been so long since you’d had someone in your life, romantically or simply as a friend. After all, you just never had time for it.

His foot stretched out under the table, wrapping around your ankle, and you jumped a little, looking up to him and not realising you’d even tuned out, but he was already looking at you. Stretching his hand out across the tabletop, you slipped your hand into his after only a moment of pause, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles, and you sighed, meeting his eyes for a fleeting second.

He squeezed, trying to pull your attention back to him as the smaller boy wittered on in his ear, finally giving up as he took a deep breath, having talked himself in a circle. Your son was nudging your arm, trying to push up underneath, and you chuckled lifting it up so that he could cuddle into your side.

“What are you doing for Christmas, Noah?”

“What I always do!” He said, a tone to his voice that read as ‘duh!’ and you grinned, rubbing his arm lightly as he covered his mouth to hide a yawn, but he wasn’t overly tired yet, and you wanted to soak up the last few minutes you could with the man you’d lost touch with so long ago.

“Tell him all about it, baby.”

“Well, I always get to sleep in super late, and mommy puts on a movie for me! She makes pancakes for breakfast!” He cheered, and you softened a little, never knowing it mattered that much to him, never actually having heard he day from his perspective before.

“Pancakes with little chocolate stars?”

“Yeah! They’re super good!” Your gaze met whiskey-brown, arching a brow at him, and he shrugged lightly, a sad smile on his face. You’d forgotten the times you’d make them for him, all those years ago when the pair of you were just teens, when he’d stay over at your house, still under your parent’s supervision, sleeping on the couch after a study and movie date, eating breakfast with you in the morning and stealing kisses when your parents weren’t looking before the two of you would sit at the table, hiding your smiles and blushing.

“I bet they are, buddy.”

“Then, we open presents together, and this yearn my teacher helped me make one at school! It’s a secret, but I can tell you if you want?” He leaned over the table, all but crawling across it, holding up his hand to cover his mouth as he whispered in Dylan’s ear, the older man laughing a moment later, before turning to look at you and grinning. When your son had settled back into your side, he took only a moment to ponder where he was. “We watch some more movies, and then mommy lets me help her with the cooking, before we have dinner! There’s turkey, and Christmas crackers! They have crowns in, you know. We are going to call grandma and grandpa, too.”

“That sound fun, Noah. The best Christmas ever!”

“What are you doing for Christmas?”

Dylan looked a little taken aback by the question, gaping for a moment, before shrugging, looking a little sheepish. “I’m not doing anything this year. I’m on tour, and I moved to a new house. I don’t have anything.”

“Not even a tree?” Noah seemed utterly distraught just at the idea, his arms crossing over his chest as Dylan confirmed that he didn’t even have a tree, and you felt bad for him, despite how funny it was to see your son’s reactions.

The conversation moved on after that, until your son was slumping in your arm, eyes fluttering a little, the late hour moving on as the conversation began to circle around you and him, more on catching up and finding out where one another’s lives had gone during college and beyond, and there was a lot more of you listening than talking, not having all that much to add to the conversation. You were happy for him, you truly were, and you wouldn't trade in Noah for anything in the world, but it still stung a little to sometimes hear where your life could have gone.

The hand in your own shifted, pulling you to stand up, and he nodded to the boy in your arms who was practically asleep. He walked with you, mumbled conversation to help him sleep, and you didn’t miss, nor loathe, the arm that wrapped around your waist as you stepped out into the cold and now empty parking lot, fingers tracing over your bare skin as they tucked under the edge of your jumper, a shover running along your body as he did.

When you finally reached your car, you took a moment away to tuck him into his car seat, pulling a blanket up for him, and leaving the door open, his head lolling to the side as he snoozed.

“He’s a really cute kid.” You smiled, brushing some hair out of his face, before looking back up to your old flame. “I can’t believe you have a son.”

“We’re all grown up.” You teased, and he dragged his gaze along you, sighing somewhat dismally, before that cheeky cross between a smile and a smirk was back, the same one that had been subtly combined with flirty comments all evening.

“You grew up real nice, though.” You pushed at his arm, rolling his eyes, a laugh you were accustomed to following as you grinned, and he ran his fingers along your arm, taking a hold of your hand. “I missed you, you know. For so long, I wanted to call you so many times, but we agreed to move on, and I thought that was best for you, but I really wish I’d been a part of your life.”

A lump in your throat, one you struggled to try and choke down, burning in your eye signalling tears, and you blinked them away, shrugging slightly. “We were kids, Dylan. We pinned all our hopes on getting into the same colleges, and that didn’t work out. You went your way, and I went mine. We would’ve been holding each other back trying to make a relationship work from opposite ends of the country.”

“I can see that.” He joked, nodding his head toward the car, and you exchanged sad smiles. Awkward silence took over, a feeling you’d never once experienced with Dylan before, and you hated it, feeling as though you were crawling in your skin.

“Will you still be around here at Christmas? I know you’re on tour, but, are you moving on soon?”

“I actually live in the area, I got a house a couple of months ago. I haven’t got my stuff here yet, I’m waiting until I finish tour for that, but I’ll be here.” You were surprised, to say the least, shrugging a little, glancing back at your son once, before deciding you were allowed to have one selfish decision, seeing as you’d given up everything you had for your child.

“Well, no one should be alone on Christmas Day, so, do you want to come over? We have dinner at about three, but you can come at any time.”

“Are you sure about that, sweetheart?” You knew what he was questioning, the trouble not really being your son, but the both of you, the spark of a flame that had never really gone out coming back to bite back at you with flickering flames, and you considered it for only a moment, already knowing what your answer would be.

“I’m certain, I promise. It’ll be fun.” He used his other hand to fish his phone out of his pocket, handing it over to you, and letting you put your number into it. When you gave it back to him, he smiled down at it, biting the inside of his cheek to contain it, and squeezing your hand even tighter.

“Feels a little like déjà vu to be getting your number again.”

“My number never changed.”

“Yeah, but I deleted it one night when drunk, so that I wouldn’t call you and take it all back.” It was a comment that hit deep, and you pursed your lips, eyes cast downwards, but he wasn’t having any of it, tipping your head back up, and frowning at your glossy eyes. “I’ve always hated it when you cry, please don’t. We’re reunited now, and I couldn't be happier, everything works out one way or another, right?”

“I missed you.” Your voice cracked, and he just nodded his head, leaning in a little to press his lips to your cheek. Stubble brushed over your lips, your breath hitching in your throat, and he pulled back, the tip of his nose dragging to meet your own. His breath was fanning over your lips, you could taste the fruity essence still on his tongue, and just as your final inhibitions made to make an exit, you hear the grumble of your son in his sleep, both of you jumping in surprise.

“Mommy, can we go home, now?”

“Yeah, baby, we can.” You promised, closing the car door and stepping away a little to the driver’s seat door, and Dylan let go of you, reluctantly, finding his own keys. “I hope you call, I’d love for you to spend Christmas with us.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart.”

You beamed, getting into your car, watching in the mirrors as he walked away, before finally, you were starting up the car and heading away towards your home, never having been able to guess when you left a few hours ago that this would’ve been the outcome of the evening.

You were watching your son gather up the wrapping paper littered across the floor, dashing round in his new set of pyjamas with the tag still hanging at the neck, and sweeping up all the wrappers of paper. The drumkit was set up in his bedroom, and he had a slight sugar-high on chocolate coins, the smell of turnkey filling the room, and you’d never been happier. This was by far the best Christmas that you’d ever had with your son, a stable job and the prospects of making your way up in the world alongside your little boy, and so you couldn't have been happier.

Holding the mug in one hand, you placed the half-drunk tea down on the table beside you, catching your son as he ran past with a handful of ribbons and scraps, tugging the tag loose from his collarbone, adding it to the pile of waste in his arms that he was about to attempt to cram into the bin.

There was a knock at the door, your eyes flicking up to the clock, widening a little at the time, not realising just how late it had gotten into the afternoon, and you glanced down at yourself, pyjamas still clad on your body. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed, you were a single mother enjoying her day off on her first successful Christmas Day with her boy, and yet, this was the first time you were going to be reunited with the person who you’d thought was left behind all those years ago.

There wasn’t much you could do now, and so you made your way to the front door, swinging it open to greet the man on the other side. He was wearing sweatpants, and a comfy looking hoodie, hood pulled up over his head but a wide smile on his face as she saw you, and you leaned on the door frame, shaking your head as you looked at him.

“You’re in pyjamas.”

He looked down at himself, ties on his dirty Adidas still unlaced and hanging loose, and he shrugged. “Everyone spends Christmas Day in pyjamas.” He bent down a little, picking up the bags he’d put down, a single brow arching as you looked at him. “You always spend Christmas Day in pyjamas, I remember that.”

You could only roll your eyes fondly, heart racing in your chest, and stepping out of the way to let him inside. Noah was quick to race forwards, throwing himself into Dylan’s body with such force that he stumbled a little, a laugh leaving you as you locked the door up once again.

“Hey, buddy, how are you?”

His hands were thrust up in the air, and Dylan huffed for only a moment, before leaning down to drop the bags and scoop the boy up into his arms. It was an adorable scene, watching the way your son’s face lit up with pure joy at having someone else to interact with, a male figure in his life, no matter how brief or fleeting it may be. Noah was chewing his ear off about everything he'd gotten as gifts, and you made your way through to the kitchen to check on the food.

The turkey was almost done, the potatoes were just growing to be perfectly crispy, and you took the tray of sliced vegetables out of the fridge, slipping them onto the bottom tray of the oven to begin roasting. Your coffee was going cold, and so you swapped it out, lifting a glass down from the cabinet and filling it up under the tap.

You dared to venture back out into the apartment, following the voices along the corridor to your son’s room, the door cracked open, and he was spinning on the new chair set up with his drums, little hands smoothing over the surfaces of the sets, and you’d never seen a smile so bright on his face as he spoke to your longtime friend about his new passion for music. Knocking your fingers on the doorframe, both of the men turned to look at you, curious gazes on their faces, wide eyes and smiles, and you almost could’ve been fooled for a second, about whether or not they truly were related.

“Can an amateur join the experts, or are musicians allowed only in here?”

“Well, we have to have an adoring fan, don’t we?” Dylan teased, and you rolled your eyes, remembering a time when he’d called you such a thing while pressing kisses to your face until you laughed, tucking you under his arm while he was all sweaty and learning his own drum kit a decade ago, and now, he was making money from his music and touring for his latest album. “Actually, speaking of that, I have something for you. Why don’t you go grab the bags from the floor in the hall, Noah?”

The child nodded, bolting away from you, and Dylan raised himself up from where he’d been kneeling on the floor, brushing himself down, and standing taller than you once again. “You got him a gift?”

“Got one for you, too. I couldn’t show up with nothing to offer.”

“Well, you were invited, so it really wasn’t any trouble.” The rapid padding of feet caught your attention, floppy hair caught on the breeze of his movements, before he was skidding to a stop in front of you, crashing into your leg in his excitement, and you chuckled slightly. “Maybe we take a little break on the sugar, huh?”

“It’s turkey time, anyway.” He retorted, handing them over to Dylan, and he sorted through them, lifting out a box with a ribbon tied neatly across the front, and giving it back to the boy. It only took him seconds to tear the ribbon and the wrapping from the gift, before he was tipping it upside down to shake the contents free, paper fluttering to the ground around them as a set of small sticks fell out across the floor. “They’re drumsticks, mommy!”

With one in each hand, he was waving them at you excitedly, the polished wood being far more high-quality than the simple ones that the kit had come with, the set provided making you worry he may get splinters but these were glossed and smooth shining a little, and as he turned them in his hands, he found his name carved into the wood at the base of each handle.

“They have my name in! N-O-A-H! See!” He was thrilled, holding them upside down as he showed them off, and you turned to look at Dylan when the young boy dashed over to pound at his drums with no rhythm or tune whatsoever.

“That might be the sweetest gift that anyone has ever given him. Thank you. How the hell did you manage to pull that off in time for Christmas?”

He tapped at the side of his nose, a smirk on his lips as he kept his secrets, and you suspected that it had something to do with his fame, pulling the card on his name and status just to get it done in time. “I have something for you, too.”

“I don’t need anything, Dyl.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.” He pressed the remaining bag into your arms, and you chuckled, peering into the wine bag first, and grinning at the contents that it held. It was the same bottle of wine that his mother and father used to drink, the same brand that you’d always steal half a glass from each when you tried to have romantic dates in at his house, still too young to drink when you’d been together. “Will you open it, already? I’m kinda’ nervous about how you’re going to react.”

He let out an anxious laugh, holding the wine for you as you fixed him with a questioning gaze, before opening it up. It was large and flat, wrapped neatly in a glittery Christmas gift-paper, and you ran your thumb under the seal, wincing a little bit at a loud crashing of the cymbals from your son. Pulling out the gift, you revealed a sleek black photo frame, a picture of the night sky, marking off a certain star, with a name and a dedication, and some facts about it written underneath, your breath catching in your throat.

It was new, but was just like the one you’d been given so long ago, when you’d had no money and had to buy one another simple gifts, and Dylan had named a star for you and gifted it to you for Valentine's Day, a tribute to the midnight picnic he’d taken you on for one of your first dates.

“Dylan..”

“Do you like it? Because you’ve never really been one for materialistic gifts, and I know how much you liked the first one.” He was rambling, an adorable trait you were happy to see that he'd retained into his adulthood, and you cut him off by lacing your fingers with his own. He went silent, gaze dropping down to your connected hands, before he was looking back up to you, lips forming a sweet smile as he stared at you. Dragging him along behind yourself, he was more than happy to follow, away from the noise your son was making with his new hobby, and opening the door to the room at the end of the hall.

He stepped inside, eyes sweeping over the simple furniture and decorations, before landing on the wall near where you stood, a look you couldn't quite decipher crossing over his features. The original gift, hanging in place on your wall, still in its frame, the paint dull and chipping off, but a perfect match to the new one you’d been given, and he let out a sudden and ragged breath.

“You still have it.”

“Of course, I do.”

He swallowed thickly, gaze flickering over to the image on the wall, for just a moment, before he was turning glossy eyes back to you. Settling a hand on your jaw, his thumb brushed over your cheek in a way that brought all kinds of old feelings rushing back, your eyes closing as your face tipped into his hand. Rough and calloused palm, something you were used to, and you let out a weak laugh. “I have missed you so much.”

“I missed you t-”

“Dylan! Will you teach me a song?” The sharp voice made your eyes snap open, your head snapping back up as heat crawled at your cheeks, your son standing in the doorway and staring up at your both innocently, no idea about the tension between you, and his hand fell from your face, dancing along your arm before taking your hand in his, and squeezing lightly.

“You’ll have to ask your mom, do we have enough time before dinner?”

“Do we, mommy? Please?”

They absolutely didn’t, but with the way he was staring up at you, there wasn’t a chance you could say no, and so you nodded your head, watching as the love before you were stolen away by your cheering son, dragged down the corridor by his hand. He was clearly craving time with another man, just wanting that kind of influence, someone to share his music with, and there was only so much you could do for him before he started craving other people’s company, and you were just glad you’d run into someone from your past who you wanted to welcome, the only person you wanted to welcome.

It wasn’t how you’d expected to have a child, not the way you’d always imagined it would be, and certainly not who you thought it’d be with, but the man in there right not, teaching your son a song from his band as somewhat reasonable music flowed through the home you’d built, was exactly who you’d always pictured it all with, a bittersweet feeling settling over you. Not only were you picking back up emotions you thought you’d left behind, but your son was growing a rapid attachment to him, and you didn’t want to have to break it to him one day when Dylan went back on tour, or settled down with someone else, and break your son’s heart, as well as your own.

You gave them their space, letting Noah soak up all the guy-time that he was going to get, and you lifted the turkey out onto the top of the oven to rest. Everything else followed, the meal falling together as it was all placed into dishes and jugs, plates and cutlery being laid out around the table, drinks following, a plastic cup in your son's place, and an elegant glass in the adult seats.

The table was filled, and you took your time, making sure it was all perfect, even placing a Christmas cracker on top of the plates. Carrying the turkey through, the table was complete, and you swept up your phone, heading through to call the boys to dinner. The sight that met you wasn’t much further from what you were expecting, but picturing it in your mind and actually having it happen were two completely different things. Dylan was sitting on the stool, Noah on his lap, larger hands wrapped around smaller ones as your son all but screamed with joy every time he was directed into the right places, hitting the drums with force as he learned, guided in his movements.

Bringing up your camera, you switched to filming, catching the two of them on camera as Dylan sang the lyrics to the song lowly, practically mumbling them in tune with the beats of the drums, pausing and dragging them out when the rhythm stumbled, but he paused when he caught sight of you in the doorway. Your son looked up only a second later, the anger at having been interrupted melting away, and he dropped the sticks down.

“Dinner time. Come get it before it goes cold.”

Your son raced ahead, Dylan picking up the drum sticks and placing them on the kit carefully, before following after you, a slight jog to his steps audible as he caught up, a hand placed on your lower back as you walked alongside one another. Noah was already in his seat, sipping at his juice as he stared longingly at the food, imploring the two of you silently to hurry up, because he was desperate for his favourite meal of the year.

You had placed him at the head of the table, with you and Dylan on either side, and he was patting the tabletop gently with his hands, busying himself, but you knew that look. If you were any slower, he would reach out and just start pulling bits off of the bird with his bare hands, ruining the meal entirely.

You started with your son, cutting him off an appropriate portion on the meat and placing it down onto his plate, before letting him fill it up with vegetables, potatoes, and all the extras, as much as he wanted. Dylan was next, mumbling his thanks into your ear as you leaned over him, placing it down on his plate, and then, he was joining your son with filling up his plate. You followed suit, before the chatter was taking over at the table.

Noah wanted to snap the crackers as soon as possible, placing a paper crown on your head as soon as he could, and giggling hysterically at the jokes as they were read out, before reading off a list of other Christmas jokes that he seemed to have somehow memorised. You guessed that they were from school, but you weren’t confident.

He also recounted some of his favourite stories to Dylan, ones you had already heard but were more than happy to listen to again; his first day at school, getting to know his classmates, going to his friend Harry’s fifth birthday party, and how excited he was himself to turn five in a few months. In turn, Dylan told him all about what it was like to go on tour, to be a rockstar and get to travel all over the world.

Pictures followed, and these you were intrigued in, listening to him share about how he was living his dream, all the places and experiences he'd seen and taken part in, and you were happy for him, you truly were, seeing that he had gotten everything he’d ever wanted out of life. There was a time, late nights that could almost be termed early mornings, when you’d be lying with his arm around you, head on his shoulder, staring up at the ceiling in a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt, talking about your hopes and dreams, and while you were yet to achieve your’s he was already living his.

You were no longer still in touch with that many people from your past, having been too embarrassed when you first became pregnant and got left behind to face any of them, and then having been too busy in the first few years as you tried to keep yourself and your son afloat, and now, you were simply too proud. Perhaps they had jobs and a career, but they were mostly still the arrogant youths you’d known in high school or college, but none of them had created a life, none of them were parents yet, or at least as far as you’d known when losing touch with them, but you loved who you were now.

Your son loved him, he never stopped talking, and somehow, Dylan managed to keep up with it. The subject seemed to change with every other sentence, and even your head was spinning, but Dylan never fell behind, skipping between topics and always having an answer to Noah’s questions or statements, keeping the conversation jovial and jolly, all throughout the evening.

Dessert came rocking around, and you were simply left watching, cheeks aching from your smile as you watched the two interact, never having felt more content than you did right now. All little girls dreamed of their futures, of what their wedding would be like, who they’d fall in love with, their house and their kids, and maybe you did things a little out of order, maybe there was a wedding to come one day down the line and you already had the kid, maybe it would be a while before you could afford that dream house, but you knew you’d get there someday.

You began to clear away when the boys made their way through to the living room to check out the rest of their gifts, and to play with all of the little trinkets that had fallen out of the crackers. There was still over half of a box left, and you could hear the distinct popping sounds each time they tore open a new one, only to crack up laughing about the jokes - even if Dylan’s was a little forced, just to match Noah’s - and the pile of toys they must be building.

When they finally appeared in the doorway, it was with multiple hats on each of their heads, Dylan lifting your son up in his arms so that he could place some more onto your head, the paper spilling down into your eyes, before you were able to lift it up. The boys were smiling at you, your son perched on Dylan’s hip, staring at you expectantly, matching grins that weren’t quite the same but were just as cheeky, and you raised your brows.

“What are you boys up to?”

“We made a house of cards from the mini packet in the crackers!” Noah offered, and you beamed, turning off the taps as hot and soapy water filled the basin. “But then it fell down, so we opened the other crackers.”

“Did you tidy up all the rubbish?”

Both of their faces paled a little and it was your turn to smirk, before Noah was wriggling to be set down, and going to tidy up, as he was supposed to. Being left alone, even for just a second, Dylan was stepping a little closer to you, hands on your hips, as he leaned over you to leave a chaste and sweet kiss pressed to your cheek.

“Thank you for dinner. It was lovely.” His breath fanned over your skin as he whispered the words, before he was dipping his head to press a kiss to your shoulder, a moment far too intimate and domestic for you to be able to handle as you thought about the upcoming point of the evening when you’d have to let him go, and so you simply hummed, offering a smile in return, before nodding your head toward the towel on the counter.

“I’ll wash, you dry?”

He grinned, taking up on the offer, and snatching up the material to work alongside you, cleaning away the mountain of dishes that had been created. Once Noah had finished tidying away the rubbish and put away all of his new toys in his room, he was coming in to sit at the table, fixing the stereo to play his favourite Christmas songs, and even helping to put away the dishes that he could reach in the lower cabinets.

As the end of the night closed in, you could hear him resisting his yawns, his singing fading out, before he was crossing his little arms over the table and resting his cheek on top of them, choosing to hum along sleepily as day turned to night. When the cleaning was finally one, the day coming in towards an end, you scooped him up, letting him curl into your body as his face pressed into your neck, clinging to you loosely.

He was exhausted, and he’d been up all day, the sugar high and the thrill of the day washing away, and tomorrow he’d be just as excited to wake up and eat leftovers while getting to know his toys, not having had a chance to fully appreciate them yet, but he would indulge himself in them all over the next few days. The Christmas tree was still sparkling, the room cast over with colourful shadows from the crazy decorations you’d put up, the darkness pouring in from outside, and you turned to face Dylan.

“I’m going to put him to bed, can you turn on some lamps, and such?”

Dylan only nodded, but your son perked up as he heard about his upcoming bedtime, rubbing at his eyes and blinking to try and clear his haze.

“G’night, Dylan.” He was cut off with a yawn once again, and Dylan grinned, stepping forwards and tipping the boy’s head down, pressing a kiss to his hair, before tapping him on the tip of his nose.

“Goodnight, Noah. Thank you for leaning one of my songs, maybe you’ll even replace me one day.”

“We can make our own band.” He whispered in return, reaching out to loop his arms around the man’s neck, and the two shared a touching hug, before you were carrying him away towards the bathroom. Sitting him down on his seat, you helped him to brush his teeth, grinning at the slight mess that he made, before he was holding your hand with every step he took to his bed.

You tucked him in, and flicked out the lights, and made sure the door was pulled shut tightly behind yourself, before tiptoeing along towards the main room, now illuminated with the warm glow of lamplight. Dylan was sitting on the couch, the bottle of wine that he had brought sitting there too, with two glasses empty but prepared, and he turned to look at you as he heard you reenter the room.

“Hey.”

His voice was a little lower as he tried to keep his voice down, an act you so deeply appreciated, and you settled down onto the couch next to him, body twisted to the side and head supported on the hand propped up on the edge of the couch.

“I got glasses for wine, I was thinking we could share it, but if you’re ready to go to bed, I can just head out.” He stuck his hand over his shoulder, thumb jutted toward the door, searching your eyes for your answer, and brightening up a little when he saw you shake your head.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“Good, because I really didn’t want to leave.” You watched as he leaned away, popping the cork on the bottle and pouting you both a glass, before bringing it back and handing it to you, sitting a little closer than he had been before the drinks, the glasses clinking softly between you both, before you took a sip, and he matched you. It wasn’t the best wine in the world, much better when you were young and naïve and didn’t know any better, but then again, you were sure his mother kept bad wine around in an attempt to deter you both from drinking it, because it always had been a little too easy to steal some of. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure thing, Dyl.”

“When you went to college, did you have fun? I hope you did. You had such a long bucket list of college experiences, and I really hope you checked them all off.” It wasn’t what you were expecting, there was always a usual list of questions that came up when you bumped into someone from your past when you were with your son, polite attempts that were backhanded compliments and questions about what went wrong in your life, even though you only ever saw it as something having gone right.

“I did. I made some friends, met some new people, and had some amazing experiences.”

He smiled, lifting a hand to tuck some hair out of your face, a finger running over your cheekbone, and taking another sip of his wine. He encouraged you to go on, listening to you talk about everything that had happened from the moment you’d parted, all up to and including having your son, to the moment you had once again reunited.

It was a little deeper than the conversations you’d had before, the dwindling bottle of wine accompanying the conversation, slowly shuffling closer and closer to each other, hands wandering and gazes sweeping over one another as you tried to rediscover old flickers of heat and interest, wondering if they were still present, and whether anything would come of them.

He told you the real story of his music, tears welling up in eyes and a slightly painful laugh as he revealed that half of the songs on his first album were written about you, heartbroken and mourning for you, wiping your tears away as you cleared his, before moving on to tell you about his first tour, and this third one, that was now coming to an end.

He’d seen all of the world, and you’d seen none of it, but you had more life experience and dependency than he did, the only person who relied on home as himself, and his manager took care of most things of him, whereas you were fighting it all on your own, and taking your child along with you. Where you had once been exactly the same, two peas in a pod, and now you were entirely different, but your hearts still beat the same. You were grounded and secure, he was flying high and moving with the wind, but every so often, when he came down to land, you’d be here.

Your legs were slung over his lap, he was playing with your hair as you held onto your almost empty glass, the bottle at the bottom, and a buzz running through your system that you hadn't felt in over a year, eyes fluttering slightly with the haze that was settling across your mind.

“I can’t believe you have a son who isn’t mine.” He whispered, your eyes snapping open and heart leaping into your throat, and he shook his head, intoxication delaying his realisation of what he’d just said. “I didn’t mean it like that. God, your kid is incredible, he’s the best, but I always just imagined it would be you and me.”

“I know, that’s how I thought it would be.”

He smiled, shoulders slumping, relieved that he didn’t need to explain himself further, that he hadn't fucked up, but you’d always been able to read just what was on his mind, with only a simple glance, because you knew him so well. “How did you end up alone? Which guy would be crazy enough to leave you, and a kid as wonderful as Noah? I don't get it. Why doesn’t he have someone to love him the way a dad should?”

You choked down the lump in your throat, shrugging slightly, and avoiding his gaze in favour of scratching at the skin around your nails. He nudged your chin up, a finger under your chin, a look in his eyes that said he didn’t want you to feel pressured, but he also didn’t want you to feel scared to talk to him, and you sighed. “I had a fling in college, but he wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. I was going to give Noah up, but when I had him, I was all alone, and then I wasn’t. I was in the hospital, and I heard him crying, and he needed me. He was reaching for me, and then I needed him. He was someone who would never leave me. Or, at least, not until I was ready to let him go.”

It was silent for a few moments after that, and while the memory may have seemed painful, it was one of your fondest moments with your son. You could still remember the way it had clicked in your chest, the moment that everything had slipped into perspective and made it impossible for you to ever give him up.

The name was something you’d worried over, days choosing one as you held him in your arms in the hospital, and you’d entered with the intention to leave alone, and instead, you’d been holding your life in your arms, snoozing in a little pair of cotton socks.

“I never wanted to leave you, y’know.”

“I know, Dylan.” It was your turn to reach out to him, cupping his cheek, and he closed a hand over your own, twisting his head to kiss your palm.

“I never wanted to go, and I think about you all the time.” A wet streak was left along his skin as a tear fell from his eye, and he cleared his throat, a shaky laugh leaving him. “I was so sure I was going to marry you, then all our colleges together denied either one of us, and we ended up on opposite sides of the country. I hated it. I wanted to drop out, just to follow you wherever you went, but my parents wouldn't let me, and I knew you wouldn’t let me either.”

“You’re right, I would’ve kicked your ass if you’d given it up. Look at where you are now.” You smiled, tears lining your own eyes.

“I still think I’d rather have given it all up, just to be with you. To have an apartment with you, and a son with you.”

He watched you for a moment longer, watching the awestricken look on your face, and you couldn't take it anymore, the magnet in your heart that was pulling you back towards him was too strong to resist anymore, and you met him halfway, the gap closing between you both. Lips met, a collision of desperate need and passion, tangling together as your hand tangled in his hair, feeling his other slip to your hip and pull you closer until wine glasses were almost crushed between your bodies and the breath was forced from your lungs.

It felt like coming home, like something that had been missing from your life for so long was finally returning, your heart racing in your chest and yet somehow feeling like you were the calmest you had ever been. Every drag of his mouth over your own, traces of tongues and teasings of more, the same way you’d always been, fire curling in your veins, raspy and desperate breaths until your mind was spinning from the lack of oxygen, and you were pulling away.

He couldn't stay away, leaning in to kiss you again as soon as he’d caught his breath, taking both of the glasses and putting them down so that he could place both hands on your face, pulling you in and holding you to him as something between laughter and tears left you both. You knew he felt the same, you could tell from the urgency of his kisses as wet cheeks slid together, the salty taste slipping into your mouth from tears, and you were forced to pull back.

“I’ve been thinking about that ever since the last time I got to kiss you, sitting in that little coffee shop as you kissed me goodbye after our breakup.”

“Well, I hope that it was everything you wanted it to be, and that today was, too. I hope seeing me once again wasn’t too much of a disappointment. I’m sure it wasn’t what you had planned when you inevitably bumped into me again.” You wiped your hands at your face, delicate skin stinging slightly, and he did the same.

“Why does that feel like you’re saying goodbye again?”

“Because I am.” You whispered, a broken look flashing over his face, one you were painfully familiar with from once before, your heart cracking in your chest at the sight. “I’m only going to end up hurt again when you leave.”

“But, I don’t want to leave.” His tone was pleading, and he shushed you playfully when you opened your mouth to respond to him, taking your hand in his as he shook his head. “I just want to finish this tour, I have three stops left, and then I’m home. I moved here, it’s home now, and I think it’s fate that you’re here too, and that we ran into each other. You’re meant to be with me, meant to be in my life, and you know it, too.”

“You can’t give it all up.”

“I would give up everything I have for you. I missed that opportunity once, don’t make me miss it again.” He was all but begging you, tugging you even closer to him, until you were sharing a breath, his forehead pressed to yours. “I want you, and your son, and I want us to be a family. Don’t walk away from me again, because I’m not letting you go without a fight this time.”

A fresh wave of tears washed over you, and you covered your face, shaking your head in disbelief. “Is that really what you want?”

“More than anything. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, and Noah may not be mine, but I’ll love him like he is, I promise. And, when we do have kids of our own, I’ll love him just as much then, too.” Your sobs had to be muffled by your hand, but Dylan was crying silently, watching you as he tried to decipher what was going on inside your head. “Let me love you, let me love us as a family?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” He repeated, seeming as though he was filled with utter disbelief, and you grinned, nodding your head and taking his face in your hands, pulling his lips to yours. It was soft and sweet, and everything it was supposed to be, as the love of your life was returned to your arms, hopefully, never to leave again. “I love you, so much, it fucking hurts not to be with you. Ever since we broke up, and now, I feel whole again. I’ve been in love with you for over ten years, and being away from you never changed that.”

“I love you too.” You stood, tugging on his hands, to pull him up, and he followed after you wordlessly, watching as you switched out the lights, checked the front door was locked, and let him trail after you toward your bedroom. He didn’t question it as you sunk down into the bed, dragging him with you until he could settle himself under the covers beside you, or when you placed your head on his chest, because everything was as it was supposed to be.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly, safe and secure, like he’d never let you go again, a silent promise that he wouldn't. You trusted him, you believed him, and in the morning, when Noah woke you up and asked for pancakes again, he didn’t even bat an eye at the sight of a snoozing Dylan still tucked into the bed, just choosing to crawl up and settle down beside you, because even if he wasn’t his father, he knew just as much as you did that Dylan was destined to be his dad.

When he had whispered into your ear that his final wish to Santa was for someone to play his drums with and for mommy to be happy, you thought that maybe Christmas wishes did come true.

[buckys-black-dress]

a fine line, part one

a/n: did you really think i could control myself enough to NOT do an enemies to lovers professor!bucky fic? did you really think i have that much willpower? i fucking love this trope and it’s so cute and i definitely will be doing more of these. k bye! leave feedback if ya want, and as per usual, don’t copy/share w/o my consent! if you read this all, luv u tons <33! - ali

wc: 4.2k words

-

Walking into your office bright and early was always the worst part of your day. Not because you hated your job, or because you hated the students you taught, but because of your neighbor.

Being a college English professor was something you dreamed of since you were a young girl, and it was something that you thoroughly enjoyed doing every single day.

Even if it meant being up before 7 AM during the week. 

But something that never failed to irritate the absolute everliving fuck out of you when you walked in was Dr. James Barnes.

Dr. Barnes was an incredibly educated man. He could tell you anything about historical events. Any day, any year, any country. But there was something about him that gave off an air of arrogance and ‘I’m better than you because of all my friends in the staff.’ You only joined the English Department of the Avengers University about a year ago, but in your time there, you’ve already built a strong reputation for yourself. 

Unfortunately, you were a bit shy when it came to conversing with your coworkers. Your most prominent friends who you’ve made are Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the Russian Literature and Studies professors. They were the ones you gravitated to the most, naturally, and have been incredible friends since you started this job. 

While they’ve been friendly, you’ve been having a pretty difficult time breaking out of your shell. You tend not to really put yourself out there in terms of sociality because of how unfamiliar you were with the setting, but you were slowly building your confidence to truly get to know your coworkers.

Steve Rogers, one of your fellow English professors, came into your classroom on this gloomy, early Monday morning with a cup of coffee in both hands.

“Mornin, Dr. Y/L/N.” Steve says while placing your cup on your desk, taking a fine morning?” He asks, breaking into a grin.

Steve was contagious when it came to his happiness and uplifting mood, and you matched his smile with one of your own.

“I’m just peachy, Professor Rogers. How was your weekend?” You ask, opening your laptop and reaching for your lesson binder. 

“It was actually really nice. I got my grading and planning for the week done last week so I got to spend time with the fiancée.” He smiles, leaning back in his chair. 

“Oh, how nice! What’s her name again...? I keep forgetting, forgive me.” You laugh, failing to recall the name of Steve’s beloved.

“No worries, Y/L/N.” Steve laughs at your aloofness, “it’s Peggy. She actually works as a military strategist.” He says with a proud smile, which you took notice of rather quickly. 

“That’s really interesting... I would never even be capable of doing anything with the military.” You giggle, making sure you have everything ready for your lesson today. 

“So... Y/N.” At the mention of your first name, your head shoots up in concern. Was something wrong? “Do you have anyone special at home?” Steve asks.

Your mouth felt dry at the question. You know Steve probably wasn’t trying to pry, but you couldn’t help feel yourself shrink under the question. 

“I- uh, no. Unless my cat counts.” You try to lighten the mood and lessen the speeding of your heart. 

Steve takes notice of your bright blush and embarrassment. To be fair, you were embarrassed. You were well into your twenties, a successful woman with a stable job, but little to social life. Or love life, at that. 

“You have a cat?! Let me see ‘em!” Steve exclaims, trying to deflect from the previous question. 

“Oh! This is her...” You say, flipping a frame facing you on your desk to Steve. In the picture frame was a beautiful, tiny black cat. “Her name is Lucy.” You tell him, smiling fondly at the image. 

“How old is she?” Steve asks.

“She actually just turned a year old. I thought it would be nice to have some company in my apartment when I moved here. I was getting a bit lonely.” You tell him, reminiscing on when you first adopted Lucy.

“She’s a real sweetheart.” Steve’s not able to wipe his grin away while looking at the furry animal. 

“Oh, you don’t even know. She’s a spoiled little thing, you should see her when I leave in the mornings.” You scoff, looking back to your checklist on your computer.

“Y’know, Bucky has a cat, too. I think he would like to know that someone else around here has one, the rest of us all have dogs.” Steve mentions casually, but your brows furrow in confusion.

“I-I’m sorry, I know I haven’t been the most sociable person here since I arrived, but... who’s Bucky? I don’t think I’ve met someone with that name...” You search your brain for any recollection of meeting someone named Bucky, but you were coming up completely short. 

“Oh! Bucky is what James usually goes by... I mean, normally people don’t call him James, just Bucky or Barnes as nicknames, y’know?” Steve clarifies.

“Oh, that makes sense,” you say with a slight laugh, “Dr. Barnes and I haven’t interacted very much since I started here... I get the feeling he’s not too fond of me.” You say with a smile to not make Steve uncomfortable. You knew the two of them were friends, as they were always chatting in the professor’s lounge and cracking jokes. 

“Bucky...? Not fond of you? Did something happen between you two that I wasn’t aware of? You’re not unlikable or anything...” Steve wonders out loud, trying to understand. 

“I-I’m not too sure, Professor Rogers.” You try to stop the conversation here before things got too blown out of proportion. “I hate to cut this short, b-but I’ve got a lecture in ten minutes, so I should get going.” You tell him curtly, gathering your things into your tote and seeing Steve out of your office. 

“I’ll catch ya later, Y/L/N!” Steve says as he walks in the direction of his office down the hall.

“See you, Rogers!” You say back, making your way out of the building to the next. 

Just as you locked your office shut, you see a head poking out of the office next yours.

You keep your head down, not really wanting to engage in any aggressive banter right before your lecture. 

But of course, Dr. Barnes had other ideas. And while you really didn’t have the time, Barnes definitely did. 

“Mornin’, Professor Y/L/N! Already late to your first class of the week?” James calls from his spot as you walk in the opposite direction to the exit of the building. 

“I’m actually perfectly on time, Dr. Barnes. And it’s Doctor! Have a good day!” You turn back briefly for about two seconds to meet his gaze, and walk into the biting morning air, ready for the long day ahead.

Dr. Barnes, damn you for making my days ten times longer than usual.

-

Going home was always your favorite part of the day. Your apartment was your safe place, your place where you could drop the professionalism and not worry about having to interact with other people. 

Most of your nights were spent reading, watching movies, learning new recipes, and whatever you could do to take some time to yourself. Lucy was roaming the kitchen while you were trying to perfect your latest baked good. 

As Lucy intertwines herself between your legs, you look down, making sure you don’t trip over yourself.

“Luce, you have a whole plaything set up over there, why do you insist on putting yourself right ther-” Just as you were scolding your kitten, your phone rings from its’ spot in front of you on the counter.

“Hello?” You say into the speaker.

“Y/N! How are you?” Natasha’s voice came through the speakers, making you pull the phone away from your ear. 

“I-I’m good, Natasha. What’s up?” You ask, wondering why she was calling you since she was very clearly not at home. 

“W-Well,” she lets out a laugh with commotion in the background, “a few of us are down at the bar a couple blocks away from your place, I think.” Another round of ruckus in the back, “would you like to join us?”

“O-Oh... who else is there?” Your voice came through softly, making your nervousness evident through the phone.

“Just a few people in our group... Wanda, Banner, Stark, Rogers, Wilson, Odinson...” Natasha’s voice trails off, like she was still going to mention someone else, but was holding her tongue.

“Oh... Uhm, I was just in the middle of a recipe, but I think I could swing by for a bit...” You look down at your mixing bowl, covering it and placing it in the refrigerator. 

Lucy scurries through to your closet once you open it, searching for something to wear, because your current situation was quite frankly sweats. Choosing a black turtleneck and jeans, you dab on a little bit of makeup and pull on some boots, making your way to your car and warming it up. 

Once you made it to the bar, you were met with a stench that only bars have, one you haven’t smelt in years. College was fun while it lasted, though. 

The first person you spot is Wanda, who’s sitting at the bar waiting for drinks, you presume, so you make your way towards her.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you came! Natasha said you were, but we weren’t sure, you don’t normally do, but it’s perfect! I’m so excited, we never hang out too much, you know? And-” Wanda was rambling, and although you could tell she didn’t want to offend you, it stung. You know you haven’t been out with your coworkers, but it was just one of the effects of your social anxiety. 

“It’s okay, Wanda. I know, but I’m gonna try to come out more... I think it’s time.” You tell her with a small smile. 

“That’s great, Y/N. I’m glad, you deserve to let loose and have fun every once in a while, you know. It’s okay to relax.” She pats your shoulder, and you can feel her warmth in it, both physically and emotionally. It was nice.

“I- Yeah, thanks, Wanda. Do you need a hand with the drinks?” You ask, seeing the two full trays. 

“Yes! If you don’t mind, we’re just back there. We got you a drink too, but we didn’t really know what you liked so we just played it safe.” She explains, pointing to the Old Fashioned on the tray.

“Oh! You didn’t have to...” You trail off, placing the tray down on the table. 

“Hi, Y/N! Didn’t know you’d be joining us tonight, good to see ya!” Steve says while scooting further down the booth seat to make room for you, everyone else welcoming you. 

“Thanks for inviting me, guys. I guess I really did need to get out of the house.” You say while sipping on your drink. 

As the chatter around the table starts again, you quickly end up finishing your drink, caught up in the atmosphere around you and how you were having such a good time. 

Maybe this isn’t so bad. I should do this more often.

And as this thought came to your head, Natasha sees that you’ve finished your drink, motioning to the empty glass.

“Need another, Y/N?” She points to the bar, “I’ll come with, I need one too.” 

You nod, scooting out of the booth.

“I’ll just have a glass of red,” you tell the bartender, Natasha giving you an odd look, “I still have to drive home later..” You laugh when she hums in realization. 

While waiting, a tall guy with dark hair is already chatting up Natasha. And just when you didn’t think your night could get any weirder, you feel someone come up next to you.

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here all by yourse-” But the voice was cut short as soon as you turned your head towards whoever it was. As soon as your mind recognized the face, your eyes widened, met with equally wide, ocean blue eyes.

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice was filled with confusion and mild disgust, ouch. 

“I-I was invited... By Natasha...” Your voice was meeker than you wanted it to sound, because who the hell was Bucky to question why you were here? 

“Oh. I didn’t know it was you, for the record.” Bucky states, watching in satisfaction as you look down at your wineglass that the bartender placed in front of you. She gave you a sympathetic look, turning back to another customer.

“I-Yeah, I figured, Barnes. Sorry to disappoint you, I suppose.” You grab the glass and walk back to the table, trying to not look as though someone just called you ugly to your face. 

“Y’know, I don’t quite understand why you can’t just let her be.” Bucky turns his gaze to Natasha.

“I just... don’t like her. It’s as simple as that, Nat. She walks around acting all high and mighty, like she isn’t equal to us.” He reasons, trying to make his point. 

“Bucky... Maybe if you took five seconds to get rid of that ego of yours, you’d know the kind of person she is. And she is most definitely not as pretentious as you’ve made her out to be. She’s a human being, just like the rest of us here.” Natasha finishes defending you, turning back to the table, leaving Bucky even more confused than before. 

-

As the night went on, you very evidently avoided anything that had to do with Bucky. If he came by the table, you would waver your gaze elsewhere, and if he initiated the conversation, you would keep quiet. Although you knew it was probably the easiest way to avoid conflict with him, you could tell you were folding in on yourself. 

And Wanda and Natasha most definitely noticed. 

Every time Bucky spoke, it was like you would disconnect. Focus your mind elsewhere, filling your head with thoughts completely unrelated to your current atmosphere. 

“Y/N, what do you have planned for the holiday break?” Sam’s voice pipes up, trying to include you in the conversation. 

“Oh, uhm... Not much, I usually stay at home and make myself a nice meal. Take some time to myself, y’know.” You smile at the thought of the holiday season. You were completely ready to take the time off to catch up on self care. 

“Oh, no family to go see?” Steve’s voice asks from across the booth.

“Uh... no, not really.” You try let out a light laugh at the answer, trying to not show the stiffness of your body at the topic at hand. 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable...” Steve says, trying to rectify the situation.

“No! You’re completely okay, Steve.” You reassure him, not wanting to make things even more uncomfortable. 

“Well, now that we’re on the topic,” Bucky’s voice breaks the silence, “Y/N, how come we know, like... nothing about you? You’ve been at the university for a bit now and this is the first time we’re seeing you outside of work.” Bucky’s expression was smug as could be, and you were really fighting the urge to cry right now. 

“Bucky, leave her alone.” Wanda’s voice was coming as a warning, daring Bucky to go even further.

“No, I’m not trying to sound rude or anything,” Bucky keeps pushing, “but you just seem to act like we don’t deserve your time, like you’re better than all of us or something.” 

“Buck, that’s enough.” Steve’s voice was like ice. “Just leave her alone, for God’s sake.” 

The table falls silent, your eyes fixed on your hands in your lap.

“I-I’m sorry, guys...” Your voice was holding on by a thread. “I think I should go, thank you so much for inviting me out with you guys. Have a good night.” And with that, you slip out of the booth, disappearing out the front door at an exceptional speed. 

The rest of the table was watching Bucky with several emotions, including mild disgust, anger, and hopelessness. 

When will this stop?

- 

That night when you return to Lucy, you were drained. Tired. Exhausted. Ever since you were a child, it seemed that you couldn’t outgrow your shyness and quietness. The only place that made you feel like you belonged was your lecture hall. And although you tried, several times, to overcome this horrid quality of yours, it seemed that you could never escape it. 

It just always came back.

And you know how it made you seem to others. Pretentious, snobby, it gave you an air of a superiority complex.

When in reality, it was exactly the opposite. You were so afraid to speak sometimes that you just choose not to. You didn’t want to be judged or ridiculed for saying the wrong things, so you thought it was better to keep quiet.

Becoming a professor definitely helped you break out of that shell a little bit, but it never really translated outside of the classroom.

Flopping down on your grey comforter, you realize that you couldn’t continue to feel like this. It was years and years of meekness, of keeping to yourself. That was the reason why you were almost 30 with no boyfriend, no fiancé, and certainly no husband or child. 

You knew you had to make a change, but you didn’t quite know how to. But that’s something you’ll have to worry about later, because you were close to passing out right now.

-

The following week had been... different. You were spending less of your lunch hours in your office, alone, and finally accepting Natasha and Wanda’s consistent invites to eat with them. It took them by surprise at first, but they welcomed you with open arms.

It was now Thursday, and you were in Wanda’s office, digging into your pasta salad that you’d packed.

“So, Y/N, just out of curiosity...” Natasha speaks through her lunch, “What suddenly made you want to join us? I mean, after last week, I wouldn’t be surprised if you never wanted to see us again.” She laughs a breath out, clearly feeling guilty for last weeks’ events. 

“Well,” you supply after a moment to think, “I realized something. After James... spoke his mind, I guess you could say, I realized that he was right, in a way.”

“Wha-” Wanda interjected but you continued to explain.

“I realized that I had removed myself so far from the people that I see every single day so much that they don’t even know me. And it’s been like this most of my life... I usually just keep to myself, but I think that even though I’m terrified of speaking to people I don’t know, it’ll never get better unless I actually try.” You release, feeling a metaphorical weight lift off your chest. 

“Well, Y/N, I’m glad you finally chose to let us in... But Bucky was still an asshole, and totally out of line. We know we can’t speak for him, but we’re all really sorry for what he said... He doesn’t even know you, and he shouldn’t have made those assumptions about you.” Wanda says after a moment of silence. 

“Thank you, guys.” You smile, gathering your things and standing up. “I have a lecture to prepare for, but... thank you for everything, both of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had good people in my life that I can call my friends.” You’re shocked at the fact that you feel two sets of arms wrap around you at your confession, holding you tight.

“Y/N, you don’t ever have to thank us for being your friends... you deserve good things, never forget that.” Natasha tells you, and for the first time, you actually believe it. 

“Okay, I actually have to go now, but I’ll see you two later?” You ask, already halfway out the door.

“Yeah, we’ll text you!” Wanda yells back, and you’re making your way back to your office to gather your belongings for the lecture.

But of course, you could never get ready for a class without Barnes popping out and giving you a little pep talk.

“Afternoon, Y/L/N. Getting ready to bore another groups of kids to death?” He asks, a smug look on his face with a mug held in his hand. 

“Actually, Dr. Barnes, I happen to have excellent students who truly enjoy being in my class, being that I don’t teach any 101s, that’s more Steve’s part. But thanks for the concern.” You tell him, shutting the door behind you and letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

You’ve never spoken to anyone like that in your life before. 

And James was equally shocked at your attitude, standing in his doorway, dumbfounded with his mouth hanging open. He was staring at your shut door, wondering where the quick with came from.

He begrudgingly turns back into his own office, truly trying to process what just occurrfaxed.

While you slung your bag over your shoulder, there was an infectious smile gracing your face, proud of not being his doormat for the first time.

That day, class was even better than usual, and you even let your students out early, telling them to enjoy the rest of their day. 

And that night, you went home feeling the best you’ve felt in a long time.

-

You went into the university the next week feeling refreshed from you girl’s weekend that you hosted at your apartment, inviting Natasha and Wanda, and even another professor named Carol who you’ve recently befriended as well- to unwind and have fun with. 

And as you swing the usually locked door of your office open with ease, your eyebrows furrowed. 

I remember locking it when I left on Friday...

But the only thing that seems to out of place is the iced americano and chocolate croissant sitting on your desk.

On the bag of the croissant, there was writing that read, ‘Thought I’d make it up to you.’

Who the hell would go out of their way to bring me breakfast? You thought to yourself. And they know my usual...

You honestly assumed it could’ve been one of the girls, but you don’t know what they could’ve been making it up to you for. Maybe girl’s night? But still, everyone did a good job of bringing things with them to compensate for you hosting. 

But nothing explains the door being unlocked. But you weren’t really afraid. You didn’t keep anything too valuable in there anyways, taking most papers home with you, and keeping classified files sealed in the file cabinet. 

It didn’t really scare you, but you truly wondered who would go out of their way to do something like this for you.

The rest of your day went by pretty quickly, and it was oddly quiet. Specifically from the office next door.

It’s now 5 PM, and not a peep from James.

It unsettled you, to say the least. First the breakfast and unlocked office, and now not a word from him. 

It was weird.

You spotted him talking to Steve earlier in the day, but you haven’t seen too much of him either.

Although, there was a staff meeting tonight, so you’d definitely see him then.

As you made your way to the designated conference room with Natasha, you see Dean Fury waiting for everyone to arrive. He greets you with his usual disgruntled look, which you’ve learned to not take personally over the time you’ve spent here at Avengers University.

Slowly, everyone made it in, taking a seat. 

“Good evening, staff. I hope you’ve all had a productive day thus far, but there’s a reason I’ve called you here tonight. I have a proposal for all of you.” Fury explains, making you all curious. 

“I’ve decided, after a few months of toying with the idea, I’d like to do partner teaching. Each and every one of you will be assigned a counterpart, and you will both help each other in making the others’ teaching environment better. Here at AU, we’re committed to always pushing the envelope, and that means that sometimes, you’ll have to get uncomfortable. And if you’re wondering, there’s no way out of this. You all have to do it. Each one of you has received an email to your .edu inbox with your partner assignment and further instructions on how this will be done.” A pause overtook the room as everyone pulled out their phones to check their emails. “Happy teaching, we start next week, folks.” Fury finishes, exiting the room. 

Meanwhile, you couldn’t believe your eyes when they saw the opened email. 

Dr. Y/L/N, you’ve been selected to teach alongside Dr. Barnes.

Oh fuck no.

And the look he was sharing with you from across the table confirmed he was thinking the exact same thing. 

-

a/n pt.2: ooooooh cliffhangerrr!!! holy shit y’all this bitch long asf. don’t worry, part 2 will be coming soon! comment and lmk what you thought down below! this might have a part 3, i haven’t decided yet !! lol, anyways, i have class in an hour, so bye! if you made it this far, i seriously love and. appreciate you!

[kikis-writing-world]

WIP Check-In

MiHello my dear followers! I know I’ve been MIA recently (aside from some random meme reblogs) but I’m hoping my life gets a little less crazy and I can make some room in my schedule for tumblr/reading/writing/etc. In anticipation for that, I’ve got a list and some info about some WIPs I have going. Please please please feel free to message about any that intrigue you - talking about them might help me get the gumption to write and/or we might come up with some new plot ideas!

Check under the cut and message me here :) Feel free to ask for more info or for sneak peeks at anything.

In no particular order:

Whiskey Straight (Jack Daniels x F!Reader) I promise I’m still working on this! My current plan is that I will rewrite what exists, finish the whole thing, and then remove what exists when I’m reading to repost. Once it’s done, it will be a weekly posting.

Untitled Professor Marcus Moreno smut Lord give me the motivation to finish this one. I’ve been working on it for so long and I think there are a lot of people on here who want to read about subby Marcus being such a good boy... It’s basically subby Professor Moreno getting his world rocked by his wife when she comes to visit him in his office. What more could you want?

Untitled Oberyn x F!OC x Ellaria, reincarnation multi-fic This story haunts me to the point where I’ve considered if I should create all original characters and try to publish it as an original story, but every time I’ve thought about taking Oberyn and Ellaria out of it, my brain just goes “nope, not happening then.” This could be considered a soulmate fic in some ways. The first half takes places in Dorne but then the second half is modern day reincarnations of the three characters, the universe bringing them back together again. The thoughts I’ve come up with for modern day Ellaria and Oberyn are just so much fun. (A fashion model who is starting to get recognized for her work, and her independently wealthy, untamable long-term fiance/agent.) It’s so self indulgent. It’s hurt/comfort, smut, angst, slow burn hopefully...

Attraction and Other Subjectivities 2 (Jonathan Levy x Reader) I’ve had ideas for a second installment of this fic since I wrote it. Mira gets involved, Jonathan gets pissy, reader gets hurt- it’s angsty for sure. Not sure yet if it gets a happy ending (or maybe a third part that has happiness? Hmm...)

Memories (Frankie x Ghost!Reader) I’ve been slowly working on this since last Halloween. I hope to have it ready for this year’s... Frankie loses his pilot license. Job hunting leads him to a graveyard shift - literally. He starts working as a night guard/groundskeeper for a cemetary. A young woman spooks him one night, and she disappears when he tells her no one should be inside... but she’s there again the next night, and the next- finally, he realizes she’s not “among us” and needs help to cross over.

Nose Art (Por Dameron x Reader) This is borderline crack fic, but it stems from the idea of the nose art/pin up girls that would be painted on old fighter planes. It essentially boils down to Reader posing for pin-up art and Poe being a big, big fan of it.

Catfished (Frankie x Miller!OC) Frankie meets Will and Benny’s little sister and they decide to mess with the older, overbearing brothers... but also, maybe it’s not just for the sake of her brothers? This is a meet-cute with the beginnings of feels more so than an actual romance.

Untitled Oberyn x Reader A/B/O Smut (possible Ellaria as well? Not sure yet...) This is smut. 100% pure A/B/O dynamics smut. Reader is mated with Oberyn and has her first Spring heat since the mating. I’ve always loved reading A/B/O but have never written it. I just know Oberyn would be a good alpha and would be able to keep up with whatever his omega needed. I’ve barely even started writing the smut of it, just the lead up, and I’m already loving the shit out of it!!!

There are more, but these are the ones I’m most excited about/been trying to work on lately. I’d love to chat with y’all about them!!

[lady-of-the-lotus]

It’s not Wei Wuxian’s fault that A-Yuan thinks he’s a rabbit, or Jiang Cheng’s fault that toddler Jin Ling used to Zidian to short out the city’s power grid, or Xue Yang’s fault that little A-Qing was strapped to his chest during a motorcycle joyride down the highway, but they are stuck going to family counseling, along with a bored Lan Wangji, a giggly Xiao Xingchen, an out-to-lunch Lan Xichen, and an indignant Jin Guangyao. A lonely Nie Huaisang gets in on the action by joining all twenty group chats and sending way too many gifs.

And, all the while, a rebellion is brewing on Wangxian’s block, their neighbors driven mad by the incessant midnight duets.

Poor Dr. Wen Qing, child psychologist and therapist extraordinaire. What has she done to deserve this?

Read On AO3!

Or read below if the spirit so moves you:

There’s a letter nailed to the door when they arrive home.

Wei Wuxian rips the letter from the nail and reads it aloud.

“ ‘We, the undersigned, do hereby declare Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji to be persona non grata on Cultivator Court for the following reasons: One: Wild animals leaving unspeakable ‘presents’ on our lawns—’ ”

Wei Wuxian looks up. “That would be Lil’ Apple. Do they sell donkey diapers?”

Lan Wangji unlocks the door. “What else?”

“ ‘Two: Gangs of feral rabbits rampaging through our flower beds!’ –They do have a point here. How they keep getting loose I’ll never know. ‘Number Three: Loud duets at midnight. We get it! You’re in love! Get a soundproof basement or shut the hell up!’ ” Wei Wuxian wrinkles his nose. “Who spit in their bean curd?”

“Where do these people meet, and can I join?” asks Jiang Cheng.

* *  * *

One month earlier:

It's all the daycare’s fault, really. And also the gang’s mutual pediatrician for getting involved and setting them up with a family therapist.

And they all know they should be grateful that the authorities are letting them off easy. But—

Weekly family therapy sessions that double as parenting classes? They all already know how to change diapers and hide the matches and make airplane noises.

And none of it’s not any of their faults. More of a…

“Series of misunderstandings,” explains Wei Wuxian to Dr. Wen Qing. “I’m sure when you hear the full story, you’ll laugh too. Right, Lan Zhan?”

“I don’t think she ever laughs,” whispers Xue Yang to Xiao Xingchen, who can’t see Dr. Wen’s impassive face but dissolves into a fit of giggles anyway.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes at the two of them and turns to Dr. Wen. “How long is this going to take? My new fashion line launches next week! I don’t have time for this—ow!” He jerks around at A-Yuan, who's gazing up at him innocently. He glares at Wei Wuxian. “Your carrot-brained little son bit me!”

Wei Wuxian scoops his son up onto his lap. “Don’t worry, A- Yuan, Uncle Cheng didn’t mean it—”

“Thumper!” A-Yuan corrects him.

“I’m sorry. Don’t worry, Thumper , Uncle Cheng didn’t mean it.”

“That’s normal,” says Xue Yang. “ ‘Thumper’?”

Xiao Xingchen hushes him.

“I just meant I’d go for a better name,” Xue Yang goes on. “Like Iago or Mushu if we’re picking from annoying cartoon animals. Doesn’t Thumper get shot?”

“You’re thinking of Bambi,” says Meng Yao irritably. He doesn’t look up from his phone as his finger moves in a blur over the screen. He’s missing several important meetings to be here. “He's the one who gets shot.”

A- Yuan’s eyes are huge. “Bambi gets shot?”

“No, Bambi’s mother gets shot,” Xue Yang explains.

A- Yuan bursts into tears.

Lan Wangji shoots Xue Yang a look that’s pure poison.

Dr. Wen clears her throat. “This is perhaps a good example of the dysfunction that—"

“Don’t worry, Thumper’s parents are just fine!” Wei Wuxian tells A- Yuan, squeezing the boy tighter. “Jiang Cheng, show him their pictures on your phone!”

“Do you think I have cartoon rodents as my wallpaper?”

“Google it!”

“Kid’s got to learn about death sometime.” Xue Yang places a lollipop in A-Yuan’s plump little hand. A-Yuan grins at him through his tears. Xue Yang is the kids’ favorite, to the jealousy of everyone but Xiao Xingchen, who is just as beloved. “See? Now he’ll always remember it as something sweet.”

The entire group gives him a Look, save Xiao Xingchen, who’s smiling and nodding.

Sometimes I think he’s deaf as well as blind , Meng Yao texts the others. There are an endless number of group chats, with most created just to complain about the people not on that specific group chat.

WWX : That’s cruel, but...

Jiang Cheng makes an impatient sound. Jin Ling is perched on his knee, slobbering on his custom lotus-patterned purple leather cell phone case. He takes his phone out of the toddler’s mouth and sets him down on the floor. “Can we move this along? Some of us have better things to do.”

“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Jiang.” Dr. Wen glances around the circle of folding chairs. “Now, do we all know why we’re here? Mr. Xue? Would you like to go first?”

Xue Yang stops picking at his chipped black nail polish. “What?”

“Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Xue?”

“I told A-Qing to stop biting people unless they really deserve it, and besides, she’s fully vaccinated, so I don’t see the problem there—”

“Mr. Xiao? Any ideas?”

Xiao Xingchen clears his throat and shuffles his sandaled feet, nervously smoothing the fringe on his oversized tie-dye poncho. “I’m not exactly sure why we’ve been included in a Jiang family therapy session, to be quite honest.”

“Your husband and daughter have been…implicated in some of the group’s…let’s call them mishaps, and as your daughter has adopted A- Yuan’s rabbit fixa—wait a minute, where is your daughter?”

“Xingchen’s got her,” shrugs Xue Yang.

JC - JGY - WWX - Jin Ling’ Uncles

JGY : *That’s* reassuring...

JGY : They make baby leashes for a reason

WWX : Lan Zhan threatened to buy me one the last time we went to the mall. I was lost for a half hour

JC : Are you sure he wasn’t just trying to lose you in the crowd?

WWX : Actually, I think Lan Zhan *did* buy the leash in the end…

*Jiang Cheng has left the chat*

Dr. Wen inclines her head. “Your husband is beside you, Mr. Xue. Your daughter is not.”

Xue Yang cranes his neck around the room. “I’m sure she’s fine, wherever she is. Unrelated question, are all of the valuables around here locked up, or—?”

“Mr. Xue—”

“We’ll know soon enough anyway. Is there an alarm system? No, don’t tell me. I’d rather be surprised. Be right back.” He tucks his phone inside his ripped black jeans and leaves the room, whistling. The clomp of his heavy combat boots disappears down the hall.

“Don’t worry,” says Xiao Xingchen, who seems to have missed a good half of what his husband has said, as usual. “This happens all the time. A-Qing has an excellent sense of direction.”

WWX - JGY - XY - JC - LWJ - Cabbage Patch Kids

JC : What the hell does that mean? The kid’s like 5

WWX : 3, tops

JC : No way she’s 3. She stole my watch last time she played w Jin Ling

LWJ : Are you certain that wasn’t her father?

NHS : XXC would never hahaha 😭 😭 😭

WWX : Huaisang! Whassup!

NHS:

WWX: You change the chat name again? I like it.

JC: Can he take my place here? This whole thing is inane

WWX : "Inane"! So you *have* been using the Word of the Day calendar Lan Zhan bought you!

JC : Shut up

JGY : Like a 5-year-old stealing a watch makes any more sense than a 3-year-old?

WWX : Oh we’re back on that?

NHS : Who stole who’s what now?

LWJ : *whose

JGY : Jiang Cheng was robbed by a toddler.

JC : Don’t you have some corporate espionage to go do or someone’s job to steal or something?

NHS:

JC: Send one more gif and I reach through your phone and strangle you

NHS:

WWX: Did you watch Shrek again without us? That’s A- Yuan’s fav movie

NHS: ur always so busy w lwj n the baby n playing w ur corpses lately!

Dr. Wen sighs. “All right, then. Who would like to go next? Mr. Jiang? How about you? Phones away, everyone, please.”

Jiang Cheng makes a show of being annoyed at having to look up from his phone. “I shouldn’t even be here. This is idiotic.”

WWX - NHS

WWX: Or “inane”

NHS:

“That’s not what the power company report says, Mr. Jiang. Now, I don’t mean to accuse you of anything, but there are concerns—”

“I swear Zidian was depowered when I gave it to Jin Ling to play with,” Jiang Cheng says irritably. “He teethed on that thing for months as a baby. It’s fine.”

WWX -XY - LWJ - JGY - 🧟 🍬 🐇 🤠

JGY: Did Jiang Cheng just tell a mandated reporter that he let Jin Ling teethe on his magic lightning whip?

XY: dammit Im missing all the good stuff!

LWJ: *I’m

NHS:

JGY: You’re wasting my phone’s memory with these ridiculous gifs.

NHS: *inane gifs

XY: Jiggy why don’t you just have your 🍬 🍭 👦👨 buy you a fancy new phone with more memory?

NHS:

WWX: XY did you find A-Qing?

NHS: He lost A-Qing again?

LWJ: …Again?

XY: NHS do you like your tongue where it is or

NHS:

JGY: ?

XY: fingers. whatever.

WWX: I'm lost too

XY: nvm

JGY: That was edifying.

“Now, Mr. Jiang, I don’t mean to insinuate that you let your three-year-old nephew play unsupervised with a dangerous weapon that mistakenly activated and went on to fry the power grid and knock out all power within a five-mile radius for two weeks—”

JGY: Despicable inefficiency

“—or that you took him to a weapons expo, because, I quote ‘He’s going to have to learn to fight eventually anyway’—”

“It was an archery range.”

WWX - LWJ - NHS - Wen Chao Sucks!

WWX: Start ‘em young

NHS: i think it's inane

NHS: WWX? did LWJ smile at that one?

LWJ: No

WWX: He’s laughing on the inside

NHS: how….inane

“Mr. Jiang? Have you any response?”

Jiang Cheng crosses his arms over his chest. Jin Ling is hopping around on the floor with A- Yuan. Obviously not electrocuted, Jiang Cheng thinks, so what’s the problem? “So when my brother blows out the entire neighborhood’s power doing illegal experiments in his garage it’s okay, but I plug a space heater into the same outlet as a toaster and I’m suddenly the devil incarnate?”

NHS - WWX - JGY - Two Bros & A Guy

NHS : Why would you need a space heater in the kitchen? what I do is turn the oven on and that gets the room all hot

WWX : I think you need a new oven

NHS : Are ovens not supposed to do that??

WWX : Do fridges radiate cold?

NHS : I never thought about it that way 🤔

JGY : In the history of the world, nobody ever has.

WWX : Also, all of my illegal experiments are electricity-free.

JGY : …Jin Ling is never spending the night at your house again.

WWX : I said electricity-FREE!

JGY : Because a fridge full of corpses that you and that psychotic hooligan are trying to raise from the dead is so much better.

WWX : A) it’s a top-of-the-line industrial freezer, not a fridge, and B) those corpses were ethically-sourced—locally-sourced, anyway—

NHS : free-range & organic

WWX : zip it Huaisang

NHS : 🐓

Dr. Wen taps her clipboard with her pen. “Mr. Jiang, nobody's accusing you of anything. This is simply—”

“Whatever. What about him?” Jiang Cheng jerks a thumb at Meng Yao. “At least I didn’t set fire to anything.”

Meng Yao straightens up indignantly. “That was an accident!”

Dr. Wen looks like she wants to go home. “According to the fire marshal’s report, it—”

“I’m so terribly sorry I’m late!” A slightly disheveled Lan Xichen appears in the doorway, Xue Yang behind him. “I locked my keys in the car, and was going to call AAA, but then I remembered that we aren’t members—did you know you have to be a member?—plus my phone—”

Xue Yang slaps him on the back. His other hand, gloved as always, is holding A-Qing by the hand. Her oversized pockets clink suspiciously as she runs to go play with A-Yuan and Jin Ling. Today Xue Yang has dressed her in a pink poodle skirt, black boots with frilly socks, and a black T-shirt with the words “Daddy’s Little Delinquent” in pink script, pulling her hair into spiky little pigtails.

“—and the look the bus driver gave me when I tried paying with the $50 I luckily had in my pocket!”

“He’s telling the truth,” Xue Yang says. Over the years, an odd friendship has sprung up between him and Lan Xichen. “He has a stamped bus pass and everything. Look at the poor man. Had to squash in with the hoi poloi. He won’t be over this for weeks.”

Lan Xichen is blinking too much. “And someone on the bus stole my wallet, though I could have sworn I left the bus with it—”

Xue Yang winks at A-Qing, who grins at him and pats the bulging pocket on her frilly pink skirt.

JC - WWX

JC : Why is my lead fashion designer wearing CROCS??

WWX : His house keys must have been on the same keychain. Lan Zhan said he took today off from work

JC : Okay but why are they orange?

WWX : Not everything he owns has to be blue, you know

JC : His contract clearly states at least three out of every four articles of clothing have to be blue!

WWX : Relax, lil bro

JC : He’s the face of our Overly Elaborate Yet Elegantly Simple Eveningwear division!

NHS : Who is?

JC : GET BIRD BRAIN OFF THIS CHAT OR I SWEAR TO ZIDIAN—

NHS : 😿 who just showed up? Xichen?

WWX : Yup he just arrived after a harrowing bus experience

NHS : https://cutt.ly/Mks2dgu ?

JC : Does anyone actually like when people send them links??

NHS : https://cutt.ly/hks21H8

Meng Yao is wearing what Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang call his "customer service smile," a holdover from his dark days in retail. It's the closest he ever gets to showing irritation towards his fiancé. “Why didn’t you Uber over, Xichen?”

“I locked my phone in the car with the keys—”

“It’s fine, Mr. Lan," says Dr. Wen. "Please have a seat. You’re just in time. After all, you were mentioned by name in the fire marshal’s report, along with the somewhat contradictory descriptions of ‘dazed’ and ‘hysterically sobbing,’ which naturally piqued my interest—”

Lan Xichen seats himself beside Meng Yao. He's still looking somewhat frazzled Then again, his main two facial expressions are “gentle smile” and “mild anxious look.” “That was an accident. The fire, I mean. A little mishap.”

“Gentlemen, all of these incidents cannot be mere ‘accidents’—”

“I was meditating and A-Ling wandered in and knocked over the incense burner,” Lan Xichen explains hurriedly. Meng Yao, well-practiced as he is at hiding his emotions, winces slightly. “The window was open, and there was a breeze, and A-Yao just bought these new gauzy curtains that tend to flap about quite a bit—”

XY - JGY - LWJ - JC - NHS - Crossing Us Is A *Great* Idea

XY : And burn quickly

NHS : What am I missing???

XY : Insurance fraud

NHS:

XY : Yes. We’re all complicit now

JGY : Xue Yang, have you heard of a little something called libel?

XY : 🖕 We should go back to building with asbestos like they did in the good old days

JC : We’re all so glad you’re here, Xue Yang

NHS : I need to adopt a kid so I can join your group or something, this sucks, you get to go this secret club every week, jc I see wwx even less than you do

JC : stop talking

XY : What color baby you want, NHS?

JC : What the hell??

XY : That was a joke

NHS: ....

“…and I was so deep in meditation I didn’t notice the flames until the fire department arrived, but A-Ling was fine, just fine, and all the fire fighters were so very nice…”

WWX : Can confirm. Xichen was more traumatized than the kid. The firefighters had to wrap him in like fifty foil blankets

XY : XXC tells me Himbo stayed with you a full week, was that why? my boy didn't tell me

LWJ : “Himbo”? He got 1600 on his SAT.

XY: Term of endearment he knows he’s my boy plus the guy locked his keys and phone in the car for the second time this month

JC : At least he feels remorse over his child endangerment, unlike certain other people I could mention

LWJ : "Child endangerment"?

XY : Tell us again about how Jin Ling used to teethe on Zidian, JC?

NHS:

“Dr. Wen will be pleased to know that my apartment is now fully equipped with a top-of-the-line sprinkler system,” says Meng Yao smoothly. “No more incense, either. This unfortunate incident will never be repeated again.”

XY - WWX - JC - Odd Man Out

XY : At least not until the insurance money runs out

WWX : 😒

XY : Not that he needs it, after landing Himbo

NHS:

WWX: Those jokes really aren't funny

NHS: 😔

JC: Dammit NHS are you in every chat?? Did you change the chat names? Why aren't you showing up on half the participant lists?? Did you hack our phones or what??

NHS: Don’t be so *inane*

Wei Wuxian titters.

“Mr. Wei? Since you seem so eager to speak, perhaps we should move onto your issues, then.”

Wei Wuxian straightens up and points to his chest, the picture of innocence. “Me?”

Dr. Wen smiles thinly. “You, Mr. Wei. Perhaps you can tell us your side of what the school is referring to as ‘The Radish Incident.’ ”

“Well….” Wei Wuxian darts a glance over at Lan Wangji, who is as impassive as ever. “I was just burying him for fun, you know. We like to pretend he’s a radish—“

“A radish?”

“It’s a…you know. A game. I personally like potatoes better, but—”

“Mr. Wei, several parents complained to the school.”

“Because we were hogging the sandbox.”

“Because your son was running around screaming ‘I’m a chubby little radish boy!’ Which in itself would not be cause for concern. But coupled with his troubling behavior the following week—"

XY - JC - JGY - Two Men & A Half

XY : Where did she get these records? Who does she work for, the NSA?

NHS : She’s an astronaut?

JGY : How did you sneak into this chat? And did you rename it?

NHS : 😉

JGY: You're what, an inch taller than me?

XY: someone struck a nerve

JGY: It's just derivative of the other group chat, that's all.

NHS : u said no to "gettin' jiggy w it" i had no other choice. anyway what's happening over there?

JC : I’ll give Dr. W this, that kid is weird.

NHS : who a-yuan?

JC : I’ll give Dr. W this, that kid is weird.

JC : I mean, he’s my nephew, he’s a great kid, that’s not what I’m meant—

XY : *delete delete*

JC : How does your hippie husband put up with you??

JGY : We suspect brainwashing or blackmail.

“—when he decided he was a rabbit or," Dr. Wen continues, "or, as he put it, ‘Daddy’s Huggy Little Bunny Boy.”

“He is Daddy’s Huggy Little Bunn—"

“And only responds to the name ‘Thumper,’ refuses to eat anything other than carrots or food containing carrots, insists on wearing bunny ears—"

XY - NHS

XY : If it’s good enough for Louis Belcher, it’s good enough for Freaky Little Bunny Boy

NHS:

you watch the show too?? I call mingjue “bob” - u know - grumpy mustache guy

XY : I’m sure that’s gone over well

NHS: he’ll learn to love it

XY : A-Qing loves Louis

NHS:

“—hops around instead of walking, and has convinced others of the same…fantasy.”

Everyone glances over at the three children, who are hopping in a circle. A-Yuan has a fluffy little tail on the seat of his pants, carefully sewn on by Lan Wangji. Jin Ling has a handful of cotton balls that had been badly superglued on by an annoyed Jiang Cheng. And A-Qing has a wad of blue cotton candy taped to her frilly pink skirt with a strip of duct tape. As they watch, Jin Ling rips the cotton candy off and stuffs it in his mouth. A-Qing shoves him onto his cottony rear end.

“That’s my girl!” Xue Yang calls.

“Daddy’s proud of you!” Xiao Xingchen adds, though he’s not quite sure what’s going on.

Dr. Wen sighs. “I’m still unclear about how this started. Was it the rabbit incident? Mr. Lan—" She nods her head at Lan Wangji to differentiate between the brothers. Lan Xichen has fallen asleep in his chair, exhausted by his first-ever bus ride. “—I mean, I beg your pardon, Dr. Lan. Perhaps you can fill us in on that? He told his teacher he was attacked by a rabbit monster."

“So he was bitten by one rabbit!” Wei Wuxian says when Lan Wangji just eyes her coldly. “It wasn’t Lan Zhan’s fault. That rabbit was bad news. It had this gleam in its eye—lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eyes—"

Xiao Xingchen emits a muffled little squeak. Xue Yang looks annoyed. He hates when other people make Xiao Xingchen laugh.

NHS - JC

NHS:

JC: yes yes we all get the Jaws reference

NHS: the last movie we all watched together : /

JC: yes I just said that

NHS: like three months ago

JC: and?

NHS: just saying...

“He was scared of the rabbits after that, and so Lan Zhan told him that rabbits only bite their own, and, well…I mean, we have a hundred rabbits in our backyard. It was either rehoming them and making the news like those crazy cat people, or making A-Yuan feel better.”

A-Yuan hops past, wiggling his cotton tail.

Jiang Cheng rubs his temples.

“All right, Mr. Wei. Thank you. That’s…elucidating. We’ll delve into that in future sessions. Now, perhaps we can discuss the June 7th incident involving you and Mr. Xue?”

Xiao Xingchen starts to laugh again. Xue Yang grins to himself.

LWJ - JC

LWJ : What happened on the 7th?

JC : Am I my brother’s keeper??

“Now, the seventh? I was…hard to remember, all that time ago…” Wei Wuxian taps his chin. "The mists of time and all that."

“It was three weeks ago, Mr. Wei.”

“The seventh….the seventh…was that a Tuesday—?”

“Wen Chao had it coming,” said Xue Yang. Smirking, he twirls his ponytail around a finger. His ponytail is long and sleek and sprouts from the top of his head like an 80s schoolgirl's. “Amiright, ‘Mr. Wei’?”

Wei Wuxian coughs. “You mean the Wen Chao who lives on Qishan Road? That Wen Chao?”

“That spoiled rich kid?” Jiang Cheng asks. (“As if you’re one to talk,” says Xue Yang.) “With the oversized Humvee and tractor-sized tires with spinning rims? Zipping down the street at all hours and blasting his music? I went to college with him. He used to leave double-deckers in the bathroom at frat parties.”

Dr. Wen swallows a long-suffering sigh. “Thank you, Mr. Jiang. I’m sure that information will prove most helpful in evaluating your brother’s case. Mr. Wei, your arrest, combined with the Huggy Little Bunny Boy Incident, does not fill me with confidence.”

“Not arrested—"

“Taken for questioning,” Xue Yang agrees. “By the neighborhood watch. Golf dads and wine moms. Very different from 'arrested.' "

"And you should know," says Meng Yao.

JC - JGY

NHS : What’s going on? What am I missing????

JGY: Did you just make a new group chat? Your name isn't showing up. This is disconcerting.

NHS: don’t worry about it

JC : We’re talking about Wen Chao

NHS : overcompensating humvee ex-frat boy with the hair gel? vomit in the jacuzzi and streak across the field at the big game wen chao? ur babysitter's cousin?

JC : The very idiot

NHS : He has nice sunglasses

JC : For a Russian mobster

NHS : Says the guy who owns a purple zebra striped jacket

JC : Says the guy with more bird-themed shirts than Winston Bishop

JGY : Touche.

NHS : i didn’t know u watch New Girl 2! we must talk l8tr shorturl.at/vDI26

JGY : Your abbreviations are marginally shorter than the actual words.

NHS :

JC : Cleaning bird cages does take up most of one’s afternoon

NHS : see, u get it

JC : Dr. Wen isn’t buying whatever WWX is selling here.

JGY : Wen Chao is related to Dr. Wen. If WWX had any more sense than a chipmunk, he’d realize that. No matter how much you hate someone, family is family...

“Wen Chao was a public menace,” says Wei Wuxian self-righteously. “He deserved what he got. Speeding down the street all the time. Think of the children!”

LWJ - WWX

LWJ: Why is this my first time hearing about this?

WWX: You’ve heard me complain about WC a million times. I even named a group chat after him!

LWJ: Wei Ying.

WWX: You were off visiting your uncle with A-Yuan ! You left me unsupervised! I am not to be blamed!!!

LWJ: We’ll discuss this later

WWX: 😓

“Perhaps the better question is where you got all those fish,” says Dr. Wen.

Everyone turns to look at Xue Yang.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he grins.

Xiao Xingchen chuckles.

“Five hundred dollars in damages, Mr. Xue. Raw fish juice is difficult to get out of faux tiger fur upholstery, I understand.”

Xue Yang flaps his hand. “His father can afford it.”

“That is not the—" Dr. Wen stops, perhaps realizing that an argument with Xue Yang means forfeiting a chunk of her sanity. “Moving on, Mr. Xue, can you explain this picture you posted on social media?”

“That picture’s an old one. A-Qing’s just a baby.”

“Mr. Xue, given the recent threats you made towards A-Qing’s daycare teacher for putting her in a time-out for stealing her classmate’s graham crackers and apple juice, this is relevant.”

“Posting that to the public account was a mistake, if that’s your concern. My Insta for A-Qing is private, but I was in a candy store and got kind of distracted by the new sugar-frosted fruity explosion jaw-busting mega bombs—"

“You fail to understand the issue, Mr. Xue. What’s that in her mouth?”

“Fingers. Or is that a toe?”

Xiao Xingchen laughs.

“They weren't real,” says Xue Yang.

WWX - JC

WWX:

JC: Great more gifs

“I think I have one with the Halloween store tags still on—" Xue Yang scrolls through the hundreds of photos of A-Qing filling his phone. “Should be one in here somewhere—oh, look, Xingchen, these are from your birthday party; I tell you, Amazo the Magnificent had no sense of humor at all; you’d think nobody had ever replaced his rabbit with a porcupine before-"

Jin Ling hops by. “Rabbit!” he cheers.

Jiang Cheng groans.

“There is blood on the fingers, Mr. Xue.”

Xue Yang gives a breezy laugh. “Paint. The springy plastic is perfect for teething. You just put it in the freezer for a few hours—real fingers wouldn’t work; they’d freeze solid, which makes good ice packs for those hard-to-reach places, sure, but as far as teething goes—”

Dr. Wen holds up a hand. “Thank you, Mr. Xue. That’s enough. My next question is about this speeding ticket, which you received while your daughter was strapped to your chest.”

“She was wearing a helmet!”

“You were driving a motorcycle down the highway, Mr. Xue.”

Xue Yang glances hurriedly at Xiao Xingchen, who’s frowning. “These were two separate incidents—"

“Mr. Xue, I don’t think that that makes it much better—"

“Ouch!” Meng Yao shoots to his feet. “He bit me! Your son bit me!”

Wei Wuxian scoops up A- Yuan, who's looking very satisfied with himself. “You shouldn’t have worn a carrot-orange shirt, then.”

“It’s not orange, it’s beige—"

“Maybe he was aiming for Xichen’s crocs and missed,” Xue Yang suggests.

Meng Yao pats his pockets. “Where’s my phone?”

Xue Yang winks at A-Qing, whose already-stuffed pocket is bulging further. Xue Yang likes dressing her in disarmingly cute dresses and skirts with huge pockets, the better to hide her loot. She grins and twirls a pigtail like Xue Yang twirls his ponytail and skips off with Jin Ling and A- Yuan.

Meng Yao is wearing the fixed smile of a Starbucks barista whose customer just asked to speak to the manager. Never a good sign. “Could somebody be so kind as to call my phone?”

Wei Wuxian makes a show of dialing. No one else moves. Lan Xichen mumbles something to himself in his sleep, chin sunk deep in his chest.

“Sorry, Jiggy,” says Wei Wuxian. “Maybe you left your phone at home?”

“You all saw me using it not a minute ago, and kindly stop calling me Jiggy—"

“A-Yao?”

Meng Yao’s customer service smile slips. “Just stop talking for five seconds, that’s all I ask—"

Dr. Wen shakes her head. At this point she seems more bored than anything else. “Moving along, Mr. Xiao, this is perhaps inconsequential when held up beside your husband’s joyrides with A-Qing—"

“Not a joyride,” Xue Yang interrupts. “That motorcycle is registered in my name. Well, a name—"

“—but A-Qing’s teacher has told me that she witnessed you allowing A-Qing to take candy from strangers.”

“The lady seemed nice,” says Xiao Xingchen, folding his hands placidly in his lap. “She had peppermints.”

Xue Yang sighs fondly.

JC - WWX

NHS: thnx for calling me WWX. reception could be better but this is better than anything on tv. literally candy from strangers?

JC: Dear heaven HE’S back. Just text a chat you're actually on!

NHS: ‘Dear heaven’?

JC: This is inane!

WWX: …not bad

Xiao Xingchen smiles. “She smelled like snickerdoodles and lavender.”

Dr. Wen sighs. “Mr. Xiao—"

“I’ll talk to him later, doctor,” says Xue Yang, patting Xiao Xingchen’s arm reassuringly. “Anything else? What did Mr. Beige do?” He grins at Meng Yao, who’s still looking for his phone.

“Mr. Meng, aside for the fire, which we’ve established is not your fault—though, fiance or not, you should be a bit more judicious in your choice of babysitters—"

Lan Wangji shoots Dr. Wen a look that almost melts the metal clip on her clipboard.

She absorbs it without so much as an eyebrow twitch. “—there is the Treehouse Incident, though I don’t believe the collapse of your nephew’s treehouse was your fault.”

JC - WWX - LWJ - We’re All Cool Here We Promise

NHS : i hear he bought the biggest fanciest one he could then set it up himself and then it fell down at the first storm. if that’s not a metaphor for his life I don’t know what is

JC : That wasn’t funny, someone could have gotten hurt

WWX : it was kind of funny

NHS : it was very funny

LWJ : "Hurt" like a baby at a weapons expo?

NHS : LWJ IN DA HOUSE!

JC : It was an ARCHERY RANGE

LWJ:

NHS: LWJ USED A GIF IM DEAD LMAO—

LWJ: *I’m

“We are suing the playhouse company,” says Meng Yao. “Right, Xichen?”

“Hm?” Lan Xichen sits up with a jerk. “I beg your pardon?”

Meng Yao gives him a patient smile and turns back to Dr. Wen. “As you can see, we have the situation well in hand.”

Lan Xichen has no idea what he’s talking about but nods along anyway. “Of course we do. In fact—" He whips out a recorder and starts playing “Wonderwall.”

“That was…lovely,” says Dr. Wen once he finishes. “Don’t do it again. Now, moving on to the County Fair Incident—"

“Which was an accident!”

“One more interruption, Mr. Wei, and you will be asked to return for solo counseling."

JC - LWJ - XY - NHS - Lan Wangji Pls Stop Vetoing All My Best Chat Names Thnx

NHS : Make him stand in the corner! LWJ, does that ever work at home?

XY : I think he uses *stronger* methods 😏

*Lan Wangji has left the chat*

JC : Xue Yang shut up I will end you that’s my brother

XY : End me with your sparkly little whip? 👀

JC : Your husband’s sitting right next to you you little freak. Allo people are so fricking annoying!

NHS : hey!

JC: I call it as I see it

NHS: your one to talk 😒

*Lan Wangji has joined the chat*

LWJ : *You're

*Lan Wangji has left the chat*

XY : How old were you when you lost your sense of humor, Grape Boy?

JC : “Grape Boy” is that the best you can do?

XY : there are children present

NHS : 🤭 🤭 🤭

JC : Same way there are children present while barreling down the highway at 80 mph on a motorcycle?

NHS:

XY : The state troopers blew that way out of proportion

Dr. Wen taps her clipboard. “Stealing livestock violates Section 2 of the Farm and Livestock Act—”

“No harm no foul,” shrugs Xue Yang. “And Xiao Xingchen gave all the trampled people candy afterward, so we’re all square. Well, snacks, anyway."

“Good snacks,” Xiao Xingchen adds. “Carob-covered rice cakes and trail mix.”

NHS: 🤢

“You can’t just hand out nuts children who might have an allergy—"

“There were also boxes of raisins. Full-size.”

Dr. Wen struggles to keep from rolling her eyes. Jiang Cheng rolls his hard enough for the both of them.

JC - NHS

NHS:

JC: wtf is that get that off my screen

“According to the police report, all three of your children broke into the paddock, released the donkey, and rode him down the main promenade, scattering fairgoers in their wake. I have the video.” Dr. Wen holds up her phone. Loud screams and merry-go-round music blast from her phone. “Mr. Xue? Anything to say?”

“That guy was barely trampled,” says Xue Yang. “Also, I had nothing to do with opening the paddock, whose latch sticks (just by the way), or helping the kids up onto the donkey, so—"

“This was found at the scene.” She holds up black leather necklace with a single red bead. "Look familiar, Mr. Xue?”

Xue Yang touches his bare throat. “I’ve been framed.”

“And this.” She holds up a flute and glances over at Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian darts a quick glance over at Lan Wangji, who does not look amused. Then again, he never does. “Since when was I even a suspect—?"

“Since you left your flute there like an idiot,” says Jiang Cheng.

“Lil’ Apple’s paddock was too small! I had to do something."

“Gentlemen—"

The cuckoo clock on the wall goes off, waking up Lan Xichen, who’s drifted off again. He whips out his recorder again but Meng Yao lays a gently restraining hand on his wrist.

Dr. Wen rises. “We will continue this next week. In the meantime, I have some worksheets—"

JC - NHS

JC : Kill me now

NHS : i wouldnt tempt LWJ if i were u…

JC : not like I take up any of WWX’s precious time anyway anymore. LWJ goes out of town and WWX teams up with that nutcase ex-juvenile delinquent of all people to vandalize WC’s car?? In college we stole WC's team's stupid tortoise mascot together

NHS : …..i'll call u later

JC : Please don’t

NHS :

NHS: u can come over on ur own to watch a movie or smthing u know

NHS: ur new line launched already so ur not so busy now right?

NHS: u can bring jin ling along as a chaperone if u want

NHS: hello?

NHS: that was a joke…

JC: okay but no more romcoms

NHS: u brought mama mia over last time not me

JC: I grabbed the wrong dvd

NHS: …..🤐

JC: 🖕

NHS: 😏 see u soon

* * * *

One month later:

“Best session yet!” says Wei Wuxian as they pull up to his house in Jiang Cheng's sleek purple Jaguar. “I mean, Dr. Wen wasn’t thrilled about the whole ‘our kids visited Nie Huaisang’s bird sanctuary and now think they’re skvaders’ thing, but all in all—"

“Just get out of the car.” Jiang Cheng gives him a little shove. They’d all been busy this past month, and had only seen Nie Huaisang once, but that had been enough to convince the kids that they’re hybrid bunny-birds. “I’ll wait outside while you go and get Jin Ling—" He stops. A letter is nailed to the front door.

“Is someone starting another Protestant reformation?” Wei Wuxian jokes. He grins at Lan Wangji, who raises his eyebrow slightly. Excellent. So he found the joke as funny as he did, though going by the way he eyes the nail he’s not thrilled about what just happened to the door’s glossy blue paint.

Wei Wuxian rips the letter from the nail and starts to read aloud. “ ‘We, the undersigned, do hereby declare Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji to be persona non grata on Cultivator Court for the following reasons: One: Wild animals leaving unspeakable “presents” on our lawns—’ ”

Wei Wuxian looks up. “That would be Lil’ Apple. Do they sell donkey diapers?”

LWJ unlocks the door. “What else?”

“ ‘Two: Gangs of feral rabbits rampaging through our flower beds!’ –They do have a point here. How they keep getting loose I’ll never know. ‘Number Three: Loud duets at midnight. We get it! You’re in love! Get a soundproof basement or shut the hell up!’ ” Wei Wuxian wrinkles his nose. “Who spit in their bean curd?”

“Where do these people meet, and can I join?” asks Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian slings an arm around his shoulders, the first time in weeks. Jiang Cheng hasn’t seen much of his brother outside of the counseling sessions. “Dr. Wen says that kind of negativity is toxic.”

Jiang Cheng grunts, but lets Wei Wuxian keep his arm on his shoulder. “I’ll show you toxic—”

The babysitter is sitting under the table with Jin Ling and A-Yuan when they enter the house, building a miniature cenotaph made out of blocks.

“The kids okay, Wen Ning?” Wei Wuxian asks him.

Wen Ning peers out from between two chairs. “We were under siege for a couple of hours. Pitchforks and torches, same old thing. But we turned out the lights and stayed away from the windows and made s’mores.”

“So that’s what happened to all the plastic lawn flamingos. Trampled by angry villagers."

Jiang Cheng pinches his temples. “I told you adopting an incontinent donkey was a bad idea. At least keep his paddock locked.”

“We don’t have to tell your sister about this, do we, Wen Ning? …Good. What did the mob look like? Did you catch any names?”

“They were led by a fat man with a goatee and a skinny old guy with beady eyes and a moustache like two long droopy rat tails." Wen Ning crawls out from under the table. “The skinny guy was wearing bright red and blue and purple clothes and the fat guy had a bullhorn. And my cousin Wen Chao was in back yelling something about the rising cost of dry cleaning in this day and age, I think?”

“Yao and Ouyang.” Wei Wuxian makes a face. “Power couple from hell, and I should know. I’ve been there.”

“Are they those nosy neighbors you’re always complaining about?” asks Jiang Cheng.

“They’ve been after us from day one!”

“Well, having that fierce corpse of yours key their car didn’t help.”

“That was an accident.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“You know, Nie Huaisang has been texting me about this house for sale next door to him,” says Wei Wuxian thoughtfully. “Lan Zhan, maybe we should check it out?”

Jiang Cheng picks up Jin Ling and pats him gently on the back. “You’re just going to have the same problem with the angry villagers, just across town.”

“No, it’s a big corner lot. I’ve seen it. Looks like the Addams Family lives there. Comes with its own little graveyard and everything. Huaisang’s family owns it, and they’ve been trying to unload it for months, but everyone thinks it’s haunted just because of that time I brought those fierce corpses with me on a visit and they got loose—but that’s neither here nor there. It’s perfect!”

Lan Wangji nods.

“Whatever.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Let’s get going, A-Ling.”

Once he’s strapped Jin Ling into his car seat, he takes out his phone.

JC - NHS

JC : Your plan worked

Nie Huaisang:

???

Jiang Cheng: yeah. Thanks for riling them up behind my brother’s back all month. Class move. Direct and straightforward

NHS:

NHS: not that they needed much inciting. wwx blowing up the garage was the last straw

JC : was still weirdly convoluted for no reason

JC : Not sure why you had to get me involved either

NHS: says the guy who lives 20 blocks away but still volunteered to file the noise complaint because, i quote, “the duets *R* annoying”

JC : well you can’t file a complaint about them stopping mid-conversation with you to gaze soulfully into each others’ eyes for ten minutes

NHS : *snort*

JC : If you miss WWX so much 🙄 why didn’t you just tell him straight out instead of pulling this shtick?

NHS:

NHS : there’s another house available down the street just fyi…

NHS: my big fat greek wedding sat night? u bring the dvd n i’ll get the pizza

Shaking his head, but smiling to himself, Jiang Cheng starts the car.

[tired0artist]

not enough (part four)

>part one< >part two<

>part three<

paring: female!V x Johnny Silverhand

warnings: angst, fluff, confessions, a lot of guilt, crying, amnesia, happy ending,

summary: continuation to the last parts.

note: next part will be the final one (a bit of a epilogue really), as always I’m describing my V.

————<•>————

Her surroundings were bright as she opened her eyes, immediately hissing in pain.

“V?”

She looked to her right where Panam and Judy were standing, their cheeks wet from tears.

“H-Hey—“ V said weakly, as Panam pounced on her. Hitting her shoulder yelling.

“Fucking ‘hey’?! The fuck were you thinking you gonk?!?!? You fucking reckless asshole! You fucking dick!”

Judy stood beside the hotheaded nomad, not making a move to stop her.

V hissed and said “Hey! Go easy on the patient will ya?!”

“Fuck you” said Panam but stopped hitting her, instead crossed her arms, looking away.

“Okay girls that’s enough. You can beat her reckless ass when she’s all healed up” said Kerry as he walked inside.

Panam nodded, clearly pleased with that. Judy too nodded and eyed V silently.

Yep. Definitely she will get her ass kicked.

Kerry took V’s hand in his with a relieved smile “I’m glad that you’re back with us. Although you’ll get some shit from Rogue and me, when you get better”

V rolled her eyes “She sent me to do the job—“

“Because she got intel that it was a small action. Not a whole warehouse of psychopaths, V. And you know that you call that in, before you go in guns blazing”

At this she looked away saying “I thought that I would handle them...”

“HANDLE OVER FIFTY PEOPLE?!!” Panam snapped as Judy sighed next to her.

“Alright enough, you’ll nag her when she’s all healed up. Now everyone out, I need to check on her” said Victor as he emerged from behind a curtain where V could see someone laying on the medical chair.

The three of them left and V let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks Vik—“

“Don’t thank me kid. I’m on their team. You’re a reckless gonk, kid”

“I’m sorry okay? I just... I didn’t think okay?” V admited, looking away.

Victor sighed “Well. Thankfully your ‘guardian angel’ got you here”

V laughed a bit, asking “Threw your patient off of the table?”

“He did. Although this time I could see him”

She laughed again and flinched at the pain in her stomach. Still she asked.

“So he brought me here and left? Kinda typical of him, these days”

Victor stayed silent as he checked her wound, but when he was done, he let out a sigh and said.

“After he brought you here, he wouldn’t leave the room”

V’s heart skipped w beat as she asked “Then, why did he leave?”

“He didn’t. He’s still here” Victor said nodding to his side, where V could see that the patient she saw earlier was Johnny.

She sat up immediately “Johnny—?!” only to get pushed back down by Victor who shook his head.

“Don’t move, kid. The wound is still closing—“

“What’s wrong with him? What happened?” V asked, cutting Victor off.

The ripperdoc ran a hand down his face, saying “The relic, it malfunctioned. A bit like it did with you, but it’s not overriding his consciousness. It’s joining it”

“But his consciousness already came from the damn chip! What else is getting out of it?” V asked, her heart clenching in fear at the possibility of something invading Johnny’s mind.

Victor sighed once again “I don’t know, kid. All I know that something is coming out of the chip. We won’t find out until he wakes up”

“And when will that be? Is he in another coma?” V asked still terrified.

“No. I’m keeping him under until the chip is done. He was waking up and passing out from the pain. It’s better to keep him unconscious, less pain” Victor said, a shadow of pity showing on his face.

V looked to where Johnny was laying. He looked peaceful. Much like he did in his coma...

“Hey Vik?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you... bring him closer to my chair? I—“

Victor was already moving, stopping her with a nod and look of understanding.

Soon their chairs were beside each other and V immediately grasped Johnny’s hand.

“I’ll leave you for a while. Get some more sleep, kid” Victor said and patted her shoulder.

V nodded and whispered “Thank you, Vik”

He nodded and left the room.

Her gaze stayed on Johnny as she started falling asleep, their hands joined.

“Please be okay...” she whispered, as her eyes finally shut.

Next time she woke up, it was to a feeling of something running through her hair. Her eyes lazily opened and met with a pair of dark eyes.

She was immediately awake, as she reached her hand towards Johnny’s cheek.

“You’re awake” she stated looking at him, still in shock “Are you alright?”

Johnny grinned at her, and her heart skipped a beat. It was so familiar to the way he looked at her back when he was inside her head.

“Fine, sweetheart. But my head still is banging like after a good fucking after party” he said with a small smirk, before asking “And you? You’re the one who got shot. Very stupidly may I add”

V was so confused by his behaviour, but still answered “I’m okay... thanks for saving me. But the chip. Is it okay?”

Johnny shook his head and sat up, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket “It’s fine. But I thought that it was trying to blast my brain from inside. Much like it was with you, whenever the fucking thing malfunctioned”

V nodded “Yeah... that fucking sucked ass...”

“It did. I fucking hope that the thing gave me all of the memories back, cause I will be pissed off if it happens again”

She laughed “Yeah, I would be too. But if it stopped then, you must have all of the memories ba—“

Memories.

V suddenly jumped in her chair and grabbed Johnny by his shoulders, startling him a bit.

“Mermories? Johnny are you— do you—?”

Immediately the asshole smirked “You changed your hair. I honestly liked it swiped back, but I guess I’ll life through the side parting—“

V stopped him by grabbing him by his neck and kissing him, roughly. Tears escaping her closed eyes.

Johnny kissed her back just as roughly, as if he was waiting his whole life to just to that. He threw aside his already extinguished cigarette and wrapped his arms around her body. Wanting nothing else by to feel her close to him.

Surprisingly, it was Johnny who pulled away first. He put his hands on V’s cheeks, making her shiver at the coldness of his metal hand.

“V... fuck. I’m so sorry. The way I treated you—“

“Was fucked up” V said nodding at him “I didn’t deserve that, we both know that. And when I feel better I’ll kick you in the balls, for that”

Johnny laughed “There’s my girl! Well, I definitely deserve that”

“You do, you fucking dick” V said with a smile.

“Although I hope that after that kick, I’ll get some treatment hmm? To get the pain away?” Johnny said, his hands now going down to her waist. Carefully avoiding her wound.

V snorted and leaned forward, bitting his lip and then moving to whisper in his ear “We’ll see. Maybe you’ll just get a broken nose instead”

He laughed once more “Nah.. you love my face too much to damage it”

She leaned away and looked him in the eyes, saying with a smirk “Actually, I always wanted to punch you in the face. Rubb that shit-eating grin off of your face”

Johnny didn’t answer as he stared at her, when finally saying softly.

“I love you, Violette”

V blushed red at the sound of her name, but soon answered.

“And I love you” she smirked and added “Robert”

He groaned “And here I was trying to be romantic”

“Hey! You pulled out my name first! Besides. Johnny Silverhand being romantic? Sounds like a lot of bullshit”

“Because Violette is a beautiful name. It’s your name. And fuck off. That was the last time I tried to be romantic, cunt”

V laughed and said “And I think that Robert is a very cool name. I mean. The first time I saw you, I was like. Oh yes! That’s a Robert right there!”

Johnny pushed her gently, as she laughed “Fuck off, cunt”

She grinned “You love me, you don’t want me to fuck off”

“I guess, I’ll just have to survive with you” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically.

V watched him and couldn’t stop smiling. She felt so happy and warm.

“I love you, Johnny” she said once again, not wanting to ever stop saying it to him.

He smiled at her and kissed her hair “And I you, sweetheart”

Next morning V was leaving Victor’s clinic, with a promise not to do more dumb shit. She went up to Misty’s shop and let her read her tarot.

As the women were chatting, they heard a car stop outside. V immediately recognised the sound of the engine.

“I guess your ride is here” Misty said with a smile.

“I guess so. Okay I’ll call you later Misty, thank you for the tarot thingy”

“Bye, V”

V walked outside to see the Porsche standing in front of the shop, with Johnny leaning against it. He immediately straightened and walked over to her, taking the bag full of medical supplies from her.

“Hey, there sweetheart” he said and leaned down to kiss her softly.

She smiled against his lips and said as they pulled away “Hey, yourself. I thought that Kerry was coming to get me”

Johnny snorted as he lead her to the passenger seat “Told the old man to stay in his villa, was worried he would flatline along the way”

V raised her brow at him “Johnny you’re even older than Kerry”

The asshole looked down at his body as if checking, saying “I don’t think so. I’m still 34, sweetheart”

“Your body is 34. And you’re 90 Johnny” V deadpanned.

He shrugged and opened the doors for her “It’s really your issue not mine. I am dating a hot young chick”

“Oh, so we’re dating now?” V asked with a smirk, while getting inside the car.

Johnny leaned on the car and kissed her, as she sat inside. She moaned softly as he bit her lip and licked it, then he pulled away and said with a wink.

“I’ll take that as a yes” before she could say anything, he closed her door.

She shook her head and flipped him off as he ran around the car to sit in the drivers seat.

He hopped inside and started the engine, putting his glasses on. Johnny pointed at her saying seriously “Respect your elders, punk”

“I think you meant to say fossil” V quipped back.

“You’ll loose the attitude when this fossil will make you see the stars, sweetheart”

“And I think that you’ll see the stars when I’ll kick you in the balls”

Johnny laughed and flipped her off, while finally taking off.

V always thought that she was a shitty driver, but after getting a ride from Johnny? She’ve changed her mind.

“Johnny! I gotta say, you almost killing me once was enough!” V yelled as the mad man beside her, almost got hit by another car, missing it only by inches as SAMURAI was blasting inside the car.

He grinned at her “Relax, sweetheart. It just makes you feel more alive”

“The pain in my stomach is enough proof of the fact that I am indeed alive, Johnny!” V stressed, her eyes darting around.

Johnny only laughed and continued on driving, towards Kerry’s villa where both of them were living.

As soon as the car stoped V was out. Her head spinning and hands shaking from the adrenaline rush.

“Don’t be so dramatic, sweetheart! I got us here safe and sound” Johnny said with a smile, the whole situation amusing him.

She raised her hand, signaling him to stop for a moment. Her heart was slamming against her chest.

“I’m never letting you drive again...” she said.

Johnny shrugged and grinned at her. He walked over to her and gave her a kiss, while taking her hand and leading her inside the villa.

As they entered Johnny’s distaste was clear as he said to her “We need to talk about getting a place. I won’t be living here for the rest of my life”

V looked up at him in slight surprise “You wanna live with me?”

He frowned and stopped waking, looking down at her “Of course, I do. Just not here, I’m kinda sad that you got rid of your apartment”

“Yeah well... I didn’t exactly have money to keep it. I wasn’t working at all after Mikoshi and then most of my money went to your treatment. About that. I’m still waiting for your arm, Vik and I ordered something similar to this one. I wanted to ask for your opinion but... you weren’t exactly interested so I just went with my instinct”

Johnny was speechless, he stared at her with a slight frown. After a moment he asked.

“Why weren’t you working? I thought that I told you to live your life, V”

V looked away and said “I didn’t work because I was looking for your body. And then when you were in coma... I just forgot that I needed to work... I just wanted to stay and be there when you wake up”

“Fuck sweetheart. I’m so sorry” he whispered and brought her into his arms.

“It’s okay. You didn’t remember and found yourself with a chick who followed you like a lost puppy...”

“No, V. It wasn’t okay. We both know that I’m a huge dick. But the way I treaded you was far from being a dick. It was a whole other level of that. I’m so sorry”

V nodded, knowing that what he said was true and she still felt hurt by the way she was treated. She needs some time before forgiving him.

“Johnny... I just need some time okay? I love you. I do. But I need to see that it won’t happen again okay?”

The rocker boy nodded and took her hands in his, squeezing gently “Take all the time in the world. I’ll be right here. I won’t be living you, this time”

She smiled and nodded, her heart feeling a bit lighter with the knowledge that he wasn’t living her.

“Okay... let’s go find Kerry hmm? I’m sure he’s waiting for us” V said and started leading, Johnny further into the house.

It was late evening as V found herself sitting on the roof, holding on to the dog tags that Johnny gave her.

The last two days were everything she wanted ever since she recovered Johnny’s body. She felt at peace now that he remembered and was himself.

Yet there was slight doubt clawing at her.

“Hey, sweetheart. Couldn’t sleep?”

V turned around to see Johnny getting on the roof and soon heading towards her.

“Yeah, you could say that” she said with a small smile, watching as he sat down next to her.

His hair was messy, his torso covered by a simple black tank top while his bottom was covered by black and red sweatpants.

The very domestic sight, made her heart clench in her chest.

“What’s bugging you? And don’t say nothing, cause I know that there’s something. We shared a brain, V. I know you” he said, staring into her violet eyes.

V sighed and brought her knees to her chest saying.

“I’m worried...”

“About Arasaka? Cause I’m not letting them touch you. Let them fucking come” he said with anger.

She smiled a bit. No matter what, Johnny would always connect every problem to Arasaka.

“No Johnny. I don’t give a fuck about Arasaka. If Hanako has any braincells left, then she knows not to fuck with me. With us”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“What do you want to do next, Johnny? Arasaka is basically destroyed. SAMURAI is disbanded. Rogue isn’t interested in you. Kerry wants to do stuff on his own. Alt is... no longer Alt. So what do you want to do next?” she asked the question that was on her mind all this time.

Johnny was for a moment silent as he stared at her with a frown.

“V... I want you” he said with such honesty that V nearly gasped in shock. Johnny was still frowning as his flesh hand was gently touching her tattooed shoulder and arm “All I want is you. Us. I don’t care about anything else. I’ll do whatever you want. We can leave with Panam. We can stay and work with Rogue or other fixers in the city. We can do another revolution with Judy in clouds. We can do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care about SAMURAI or Arasaka. I just want to be with you”

V was bitting her quivering lip as she whispered “Really?”

Johnny smiled and touched her neck, bringing her closer to kiss her.

The kiss was gentle and sweet, nothing like Johnny have ever wanted a kiss to be like. But with V. It was the best thing that he ever experienced.

V pulled away and touched his bearded cheeks “I want you Johnny. There’s nothing else that matters more to me. We’ll figure out what we want together”

Johnny nodded “We’ll do that later. For now I want your lips on mine and your body in my bed”

V smiled as her cheeks were dusted with a slight blush “Johnny as much as I love the idea, my wound—“

“I meant sleeping, sweetheart. I just want you close to me. My impressive cock isn’t going anywhere” he said with a smirk.

She laughed at this and shook her head, “Of course it isn’t. Alright, let’s go to my room then. The bed is comfier there”

Hours later V woke up with her head snuggled into a warm shoulder and surrounded by the so familiar and masculine smell. She smiled and brought her head against his neck, making him laugh.

“You’re like a cat” he said as his arm was caressing her waist, just where her t-shirt rolled up.

“You love it...” she mumbled, snuggling closer to him.

His grip on her tightened and he moved his head to kiss her lavender smelling hair “I love you” he whispered as if telling a secret.

V pulled away a bit and looked into his dark eyes “I love you too”

They got closer to kiss each other, when they heard a loud meow and something jumped right on top of Johnny’s chest, purring loudly.

V stared at the cat that was now snuggling into Johnny’s tank top and giggled. She turned to Johnny saying.

“Someone was feeling left out”

Johnny rolled his eyes but started petting the cat with his cybernetic hand.

“I’ve never thought that I would be petting this ugly thing” he whispered “Or holding you, while doing it”

V laid back down in his shoulder and moved her hand to touch his, as he petted the cat.

“Well. Get used to it...” she said with a smile.

“I was just planning to” he said, also smiling.

•there will be part five as I said above so follow me or just check the tag “Johnny Silverhand x V”

•also English isn’t my first language so sorry for any errors.

•thank you all for reading this and the last parts. I hope that you liked V and Johnny’s interactions!!

Tag list (if you wanna be tagged leave a comment): @dartheldur @signwriting @missweatherwax @commanding-officer @lovinghunty @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @sillysallysings @iamshisan

[natexarnoult]

hey all!! my name is mads and i’m 23, use she/her pronouns, and live in mst! i’m so excited for y’all to meet nathan - he’s a char i’ve had in mind for a while and i’m stoked to finally bring him to life! i’ve included some main points about him under the cut, along with his bio and a couple extras for him - please message me if you’d like to plot :D 

Nathan comes from a single-mother household... at least, until he was in high school.

Nate knows who his father is and is trying to build a relationship w/ the man but is still hurt from his mother hiding his father’s identity & not hiding the truth.

He is very much a ‘trust-fund’ kid but is working hard to distant himself from his parents’ wealth and build a name that isn’t connected to his parents.

Nathan truly is a sweetheart but has a hard time expressing this to those he cares about - he grew up in a home that wasn’t welcoming to affection and is still trying to break this habit.

He’s been in Heartsdale for several years and I’m so open to creating some pre-existing connections with him! Friends, ex friends, exes, enemies - anything! Please just message me so we can chat :)

He graduated from UCLA with an art history degree but is more interested in actually making art than learning about it - he travels a lot as he likes to make his show room diverse and brings in pieces from all around the country.

Nathan lives above his gallery but spends most of his time outside of both his gallery and his apartment - it’s either a midlife crisis and he regrets his choices or he’s just trying to meet new friends, who knows?

His pinterest is here and is constantly being update; please follow me if you feel so inclined!

Annnnnd: bio here as well:

Nate’s parents met while his father was on a school trip. A senior studying art history at Harvard, he’d taken the trip as an excuse to ‘see the world’ - if that world meant England, sure. His mother was the manager at a museum they visited on the trip & his father found himself returning to her canvas filled institute daily. They spent hours talking, sharing their love of paintings and critiquing some of the pieces her museum had chosen to display. Neither of them wanted to admit that their time together would be coming to a close - his trip was only for 3 weeks over the winter holidays - but on his last day in the country, Nathan’s father left a note within her bedside drawer, his address and phone number scrawled sloppily across a spare receipt & he snuck out before the sun was up. Saying goodbye would be too hard.

He returned to the States. He graduated. He got a job. He went years without hearing from the woman he’d met. One day, when his father was leaving The Met - he’d become a director of programs - his eye landed on a woman who looked so familiar, her hand clutched by a child, no older than 10. That moment was Nate’s first memory of his dad.

He remembers sitting in his dad’s house, a wide and bright space that was 20 minutes from where they’d met on those huge steps. This man had given them a ride and was now setting tea in front of his mother, but Nate was playing with his dog. He remembers snippets of the conversation - his mom was apologizing a lot. Apparently she hadn’t wanted to see him. They were in the States to visit her sister, Nate’s aunt. He remembers that this man kept looking between his mom and him & he looked so confused. Finally, he remembers a silence falling over the room and the man asked a question. Nate couldn’t make it out but his mother’s response was clear, definite; “Yes. He’s yours.”

At the time, Nate had no idea what that meant. He hadn’t yet been given the talk and his mother didn’t explain her relationship to this man. She introduced him - Nathan couldn’t remember his name - and said that he was an old friend from college. But soon, he found himself with this man more often. His mother invited him to join them at his aunt’s birthday party. When they flew back home to England, his mother would often be stuck on the phone with her old friend from college. One day, a year or so after their New York trip, his mother was picking him up from school, nervously pressing her thumb nail into the steering wheel. She asked if he remembered her friend from college, the one they’d seen while in New York. Nate did. She asked if he’d like to take another trip to New York to see his aunt, to see her old friend from college & maybe stay longer this time - like maybe the whole summer holidays?

They stayed the whole summer and when fall came around and it was time for Nathan and his mother to return home, he was sad - he was going to miss his aunt, he was going to miss the excitement of living Stateside. The rest of his year was almost a blur - his school year went by relatively painlessly, though he had begun to feel the hurt of being one of the only brown kids in school - and eventually spring had returned. His mom, again, sat him down and began asking questions. Eventually, and now Nate was smart enough to see where this was going from the start, she asked Nate how he would feel about moving to the States, about living with his aunt for a while. The move itself was quick and before he knew it, Nate and his mother settled in the States. He spent his days at school and his afternoons in extracurriculars - his new school had an art program that Nate was excelling in. They spent nights hanging out with his aunt or his mom’s college friend and for the first time in his young life, Nate felt comfortable. His mom’s friend had begun taking him to the museums, explaining the complexities of the canvas hanging on the walls and asking for his opinion on the work.

When Nate was about halfway through his junior year of high school, his mother and her college friend were both in the car when he was picked up from school. It wasn’t entirely all that weird - he wasn’t dumb enough to think that they weren’t dating, but Nate did always wonder why his mother never broached the subject with him. It’s not like he was a little kid anymore, for fuck’s sake - if your kid is old enough to date, they’re old enough to know who you’re dating. Nate probably couldn’t tell you the rest of what happened that day. He remembered getting home and grabbing a snack, as he always does, and he remembered getting told to sit down by his mother, that she had something important to tell him.

Nate’s life split into the before and the now - before Stephen was his father & now. While typically a rather well-mannered teenager, Nate was furious. Sure, his mom didn’t have to disclose her love life if she didn’t want to, but to know that Stephen was his That they’d known since the start and never told him? He thought back to their first visit to New York, when they ran into Stephen on the steps of the Met - he remembered his mom was surprised, thrown off her guard, but never uncomfortable, never not wanting to be around this man.

He slammed the door on his way out of the house, hopping on his bike and riding off. That night was the first night he ever acted out - Nate made it to his friend’s place out in the suburbs and snuck in their basement window. The rest of his friends, along with a couple girls he knew from his English Lit class, were circled around a small table, upon which sat a small tray & a bong. Nate welcomed the small act of rebellion, in the face of such shocking news, & spent his night testing his limits.

His parents, as he now so affectionately referred to them as, soon regretted telling Nate at such a volatile age. He soon spent all his evenings with his friends, sneaking into the house after midnight (if he’s early) and going straight up to his room. They tried not to push it and Nate was torn between appreciating being left alone and pissed that no one cared how he felt. His mom had tried to address it a couple times but Nate always shut down, refusing to give her more than a two word response.

It went on like that for 2 years, silence, short answers, tension. At 18, Nathan found himself going off to college, moving across the country to attend UCLA. He lived off his parents money, figuring the least they could do after years of absconding from the truth. And he lived lavishly - drinks on him every time his friends went to the bars, new clothes, new shoes, everything he could want.

He graduated with minimal rule infractions, an MIP here, possession of controlled substance there. But his parents always paid for a lawyer, flew out for the week and handled everything for him. After college, Nathan bounced around for a year, spent a couple months in LA, three in New York, and another 6 or so in a van his parents had financed, driving around the US.

Six months on the road proved to be exhausting, however, and Nathan found himself back in one of his first stops at the start of his trip, Heartsdale. It wasn’t long before he signed a lease on an apartment downtown and spent his days as a barista at Legal Grounds. He didn’t necessarily need the job - his parents still financed his whole life - but it was nice to have something to meet people in town. After a while, however, being a barista became boring. Nate spent his time admiring the local work they had pinned for sale on their walls, admiring the fine line work and critiquing in the way he’d spent four year training to do. On a walk, he found himself fantasizing about owning his own gallery, having his space to curate an experience. Nate’s eyes caught on every single ‘For Lease’ sign downtown, pausing and forcing himself not to take a peek inside. It wasn’t reasonable, he told himself. Irrational, at best. He had no experience managing anything, no experience building something from nothing.

And yet… he couldn’t help. One brisk morning, the sun was bright against a For Lease sign, practically screaming the numbers at him. His fingers were typing the numbers into his phone before he even realized what he was doing. It was 4:23am, the downside of an opening shift at a coffee shop, and he wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up anyway. “Morning, uh,” he paused - was he really doing this? “My name is Nate Arnoult and I’m interested in the space you’ve got on 1st and..”

Moving in was quick, it only took 6 months before Nathan settled in the space above the retail spot. He spent his first night with his friends, drinking and dancing. His friends, just as ecstatic as he,  commended him - Nate had been hemming & hawing about opening a gallery space for months and to finally have a space, a place to start… Nathan was on cloud nine. And it went better than he thought it did. The art scene extended out of his small town and he was able to show pieces from all over Georgia. He even flew out to other states, offered small artists a space in his show room.  The rest, he supposed, is history. He’s been living a comfortable life and still maintains contact with his parents, despite their rocky past - not friendly, but not fatal either.

[theonlygamergost]

What happens in the toy aisle, stays in the toy aisle - Fd!au

This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by @antarctic-bay if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!

Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!

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

Tommy Techno and Will are pretty chaotic without supervision, so when they go pick up Phil from his workplace, they make a fatal mistake: they enter the toy aisle.

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

Enjoy~

Phil sighed in relief after a rush of clients had gotten out of the store, the offices had just closed so it was pretty normal for a rush to be around this hour, yet this one ending only meant that in a half an hour, the students rush was going to begin.

This also meant that he had half an hour to refill the shelves, so many things to do, so little time.

“Evening everyone! Evening Phil!” The new employee’s shift started round about now, he greeted everyone and went in the back where he worked, Phil was able to reply with a wave and a smile. The new guy had it rough since he worked the night’s shift in the warehouse, but Phil sometimes brought him coffee or something to eat before leaving work: the guy was slightly older than Wilbur and Phil only felt empathy for the guy.

He stretched his very tired body and started to put the products on the shelves, sleeping three hours for two nights in a row wasn’t the best idea he ever had but convincing Techno to stop studying so late wasn’t an easy task, plus, insomnia is a bitch ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The store’s “peace” (for how peaceful a store can be that is) was abruptly interrupted by the shouting of “HEY BIG P!!!!” coming further down the aisle. Customers and employees alike stared in confusion at the young boy who had yelled and the other two teens with him.

Phil turned to see his brothers wave at him with a grin on their faces, “Boys? Wha- what are you doing here?” He asked in disbelief, what were they doing here?

“We came to see you Big P!” Tommy hugged his older brother out of nowhere, making them almost lose balance. The other two smiled as they watched the wholesome scene.

“Thank you for coming to see me boys but, the store is on the other side of the town from your school! There has to be another reason you came all the way here” Wilbur and Techno snickered, making Phil more suspicious

then he already was.

“Now I’m genuinely concerned, what are you little shit-heads up to?” Phil engaged his dad-mode, placing his hands on his hips and looking at the teens for explanations. Tommy and Techno smiled innocently while Wilbur answered.

“We came here to pick you up after your shift ends! There was no point in going back home and then coming here so…” He looked around while putting his arms behind his back, Tommy nodded aggressively like he always did when Wilbur talked for the three of them, “We came here directly from school in my car, It just didn’t feel right to make you come back home on the bus. You work for all of us so this is the least we can do”

Phil stared at them in silence, that was so thoughtful of them.

Phil moved around town with the old trusted scooter their father gifted him on his sixteenth birthday, but as time passed, it only became more old and less trusty, so it was no surprise when two mornings ago the scooter didn’t start, the noises it emitted were more than worrying so he brought it to the mechanical near their house. He could afford the repair costs but he completely forgot that he had to use the bus to get to work, so he woke up “at the same time as usual” the next day… he didn’t calculate that the scooter was way faster than the public transport though,  so he arrived twenty minutes late.

“That is very… kind of you guys, but my shift ends in an hour, what are you going to do until then?”

Techno shrugged, “Laugh at kids toys” saying it like it was the most normal and obvious thing in the world.

Phil couldn’t help himself from face-palming, smiling behind the hand that covered his face: he loved his brothers very much, but god why were they so chaotic?

“Fine then, go to the toy aisle, just… don’t get yelled at for making too much noise ok?” Their eyes started sparkling, they were waiting for this.

After thanking and saying goodbye to Phil, Wilbur and Tommy bolted out of view, Techno sighed and shook his head before walking with hands in his pockets after them.

Phil smiled and got back to work, moving the groceries from the cart to the shelves.

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

“So wait, you’re telling me that the teacher gave you a vote without checking your paper?” Wilbur was playing with his yo-yo while casually chatting with Techno, Tommy was bouncing a basketball around them.

“Yeah, I mean… it’s pretty normal, the teacher says that it’s always a “waste of time” to check my papers because she never finds any errors” The blonde boy was half-listening to his older brothers, they said they were going to the toy aisle to make fun of stuff, “Stil, the teacher shouldn’t do that! Correcting homework is part of her job!” Yet they were talking about boring stuff, who cares about school anyway?

“I am aware Wilbur, that’s why she doesn’t like me anymore, I said in front of the class that she gave me an A+ but I made two errors she didn’t correct, now both the class and the teacher think I’m an asshole” Techno sighed, he never really cared about what people thought of him, but it still kinda hurt.

Wilbur stopped playing with the yo-yo, looking at the ground while in thoughts.

“Have you reported this to the principal?” Techno shook his head.

As he was about to say something, a bunch of bouncy balls hit them.

“GWAHAHA! YOU JUST GOT PRRRRANKED BRO!” Tommy laughed hysterically at them, holding a small box full of them.

“You in this Techno?” Wilbur grabbed a couple of balls off the ground, “Count me in Will” Techno juggled a ball in his hand, ready for what was about to happen.

“Wait- guys- w-we can talk about this!” Tommy slowly started to back away from them, hoping for an agreement.

“One…” Tommy gulped, Techno adjusted his glasses.

“... Two… “ Tommy became a stuttering mess, Wilbur grinned as widely as he could.

“THREE!” They said in unison, bringing back their arm to launch the bouncy ball as hard as they could.

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

Proudly, Phil placed his hands on his hips as he admired the work he had just done: The whole aisle was know refilled and ordinated.

He chucked the empty carton boxes into the cart along with the cutter and pricer. Taking it in the warehouse where the new guy and another employee were drinking coffee, the night was long for them so this was the first of many.

As they noticed Phil walking in, they greeted him, “Yo Phil! Want some coffee?” The older Pandel brother shook his head and thanked them, “No thanks mate, I’m good” Taking one card box at the time, he cut them and folded them to throw them away while making small talk with the other two employees.

“Did you know that the manager got caught flirting with that young cashier the other day?” One of the workers said after taking a bite of their sandwich, “He’s an asshole who looks like a creep, I’m not surprised… “ The other one was playing crosswords, he replied as he scratched his head. “Vertical, four letters, a Japanese company who products televisions and owns a console? Dude, I don’t play those videogames how am I supposed to know?”

“Sony” Phil replied while dropping off the cutter, the guy who asked the question stared at the journal. “Um… Oh Yeah! It fits! Thanks Phil” He scuffed it off as he closed the storage door, heading off to change out of his uniform. He wondered what mess the three brothers could have done while out of his sight.

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

Before he changed and waved goodbye to his co-workers, Phil had sent a text to Wilbur, asking him to meet up outside the store, when he arrived there, they were already waiting.

“Alright!” He stretched his arms “I’m so done doing shit today, who wants to order pizza?” The brothers agreed and cheered as they got into Will’s car, of course he was driving, so Phil sat in front and the other two in the back.

“Thank you for picking me up today” He looked at Wilbur.

“No worries big P!” Tommy emerged from the back seat, a soft “It’s the least we could have done” came directly from behind him, he smiled.

“So what did you end up doing while waiting for me?” The car became as silent as rock, Will’s eyes widened.

From that day, the three brothers never entered Phil’s workplace again, also bouncy balls were now banned in the Pandel household.

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, Chapter 7

Here it is!

“Hello…? Yeah, Dad, we’re here. Yeah, everything’s fine. No, no, we’re at Uncle Phil’s… Mum? Yeah, she’s alright. She’s talking to him right now so I thought I might just call and tell you we’re here, for you not to worry too much… Yeah, I can put her on the phone, hold on… Mum? Dad wants you on the phone!”

“Tell him I’m coming!” Caroline looked at her brother. “Hold on Phil, Mike’s going to worry otherwise.” 

“Go ahead, Carrie.”

The sixty-odd year old woman rose from the sofa and went to the telephone, leaving her brother on his sofa. 

"Thanks, Micky, go with your Uncle, I'll be a minute." She gently tapped her son's arm and the tall man nodded.

He went to his uncle and sat on the armchair next to the sofa. The Aussie put his hat and his aviators on the coffee table.

"So, Micky, how're you? How was the flight and all? Oh by the way, here… Your mum's poured you a cup of tea while you were on the phone…”

“Oh, thanks…” Mundy took the cup that his uncle was handing him and nodded in thanks. Micky was the nickname that his family used with him. “Flight’s been bloody long. America’s so far from home and New Mexico’s not on the East coast either so, eh... I slept for most of it but Mum was a bit restless.”

“Ah, I’m not surprised. I know your Mum, she’s always been active and energetic like that.” Phil chuckled. “But all went well on your way here?”

“Yeah, not too bad.” Mundy took a sip of his tea. “Had to drive to the airport for a few hours first. Dropped the van to be delivered here soon hopefully, and then we took the plane with Mum.”

“I see. And what're you doin' now? Still hunting?" Philip drank his tea and offered some biscuits to his nephew.

"Ah, thanks. And uh, yeah, same old." Mundy smiled. "I still hunt."

"Dad still angry about it?" 

"Not really angry. He's more than used to it by now. But he'd rather I just helped in the farm, for sure." 

"Ah, can't blame him. Guns are dangerous, eh."

They nodded and both took a sip of their tea. 

"You make tea exactly like Mum." Mundy chuckled.

"Bah, y'know your mum, she didn't let me do it! She made that herself… Gosh, Caroline! I told her, you took the car for hours and then the plane for hours, you must be dead tired. But y'know how you can't reason with your mum, eh?"

"Yeah, I do…" Mundy smiled.

"So what's new back home?"

"Bah, not much… Mum and Dad are still lookin' after the chickens and geese. I help in between contracts. But you, Uncle Phil? You got injured? Mum told me it was at work…?" 

Philip nodded. 

"Yeah, y'know, bein' a policeman here ain't always easy."

"What happened?"

"Got beaten up by a group of thugs."

"Mum said something about gunshots." 

"Yeah, it was two gangs goin' at each other. Young folks, really. Such a shame to see kids like this these days. But yeah, there were a few gunshots and one caught my leg."

"Oh wow…" Mundy nodded. "When did that happen?" 

"About a few weeks ago now…? Yeah, a couple of weeks ago." 

"And you still walk with a cane and a limp, eh?" Mundy asked, nodding at the cane resting against the side of the couch. 

"Yeah…" Philip frowned and scratched his bushy moustache. "Goin' through therapy, but y'know, I ain't young anymore so it'll take a long time before it'll go back to normal."

"That what the doctors said?" 

"Yeah." Philip nodded. "They said I might even retire before it's complete history." 

"Oh, bugger… Can you work again at least or…?" 

"Well, I'll only do desk stuff but no field work." Philip seemed saddened by it. 

"Ah, I'm sorry, Uncle Phil…" Mundy scratched his short, brown hair.

"Bah, I was due to retire in a few months, so it doesn't change much. Just means I can take it easy a few months in advance." 

"But you really liked your job, right?" Mundy asked. 

"Oh yeah, as much as you yours." 

They smiled and nodded at each other. Caroline came back and sat next to her brother on the sofa. 

"Alright, Mike's alright. I told him about the van." She said, looking at her son, Mundy. 

"What's wrong with it?" Philip asked. 

"They said it's gonna arrive in a week or so." Caroline answered. "They’re having delays for some reason."

"You're welcome to use my car whenever you need, eh." Philip offered. “You didn’t need to get Mike’s van over the ocean.”

"Oh, thanks, Phil'. It'll come in handy, I'm sure. And it’s Micky’s van now." She chuckled and was interrupted by Philip's dog coming to lay on Mundy's lap. 

"Marty, get off of Micky's lap, you big boy…!" 

Marty was a German shepherd. He was Philip's life companion for the past decade now. 

"He's fine, Uncle Phil, let him do… Yeah, good boy…!" Mundy was spoiling the dog with pets and scratches. The canine went to fetch a toy and brought it to the Aussie. 

"You can take him to the backyard and play there with him if you want, Micky." 

"Oh, for sure, c'mon, let's go, big boy…!" Mundy collected his hat and aviators from the coffee table before he exited the living-room through the French window, closely followed by the dog. 

That left Caroline and Philip chatting together. 

"Micky's told me Mike still doesn't like his huntin', eh?" Philip asked and his sister nodded. 

“To be honest, we never agreed to it or liked the idea. It’s dangerous. I mean, you’re livin’ proof that carryin’ a gun can get you at the wrong end of another one.”

“Yeah, but he’s not huntin’ people, is he? They're just beasts.”

“Beasts that could rip your leg off better than that bullet you took, Phil’.” Caroline sipped on her tea. “Nah, we’ve tried to get him interested in anything else. We got him to play in a pub.”

“Play?” Phil repeated.

“The sax. He’s quite decent.” Caroline explained and pushed her pink glasses back up her nose. 

“But?” Phil anticipated.

“But he likes to do it on the side… He really likes huntin’ and he’s the best at it. He’s now got a reputation. Sometimes, he says he has work, takes the van and drives off for days. We don’t know where he goes, what he does, but he comes back with heaps of money…!”

“You don’t think he’s doin’ anything dodgy, is he?” Phil asked, his policeman instincts kicking in.

“I don’t know. We’ve asked him countless times and he always says that it’s the price for capturing rare game but…” Caroline shook her head. “I can’t help but think there’s more to it. Once, the police came along with some men who didn’t look like regular police. They took him away to have a chat. In the end, he told us he landed a contract that paid generously, and oh boy it did! We redid part of the house with that money…! But what the job was exactly, he couldn’t tell us. He said the police asked him to be quiet about it.”

“Well if it’s the police askin’ and he’s free, that means he helped them, he wasn’t against them, so I wouldn’t worry.”

“I can’t help it…” Caroline raised her eyes and saw Mundy play with the dog through the French window.

"Hey, Carrie, the boy's a grown up man now. And if the police comes for him to work, that means he's real good… How old is he now?"

"Almost forty."

"And still livin' with you and Mike?" 

"Nah, yeah…" 

"He doesn't wanna go?" Phil asked. 

"I don't know. We never really discussed it."

“D’you think he does the huntin' work only for the money? If he earns a lot of it, he might just continue it for the cash.” Phil asked.

“Yeah, nah.” Caroline shook her head. “It's not for the money. He takes a lot of work for free…"

"For free? Hell…" Phil chuckled. "And what about, y'know, findin' a good woman and all?" 

"Oh God, if only I knew what was goin' on with him…" Caroline shook her head. "He never brings anyone home and he never talks about these things. Even with his dad. He's never, y'know, just checked a sheila out or let his eyes linger. It's like he doesn't feel a thing for them."

"I can ask. Maybe he can't talk to y'all about it but is happy to open up to someone else?"

"Maybe."

There was a pause. 

"He doesn't seem too unhappy about it all, eh?" Phil nodded to Mundy who was playing fetch with Marty. 

"Nah, he doesn't but… We'd love to see him bring someone home, y'know. I wonder if he does have someone but just hides it."

"Why would he do that?" 

"I don't know. Last time he talked about a pretty sheila, he was back in primary school. Since then, it's been different." 

"Hm." Phil finished his tea. "And what about Mike? How's he? You left him alone to come and see me?"

Caroline shook her head.

"Yeah, nah, he’s got his brother over and it’s rugby season. I just have to call them to stay away from havin’ barbies everyday.” She chuckled. 

“Oh I’m sure he’ll be reasonable.” Phil joined her chuckles. 

“Yeah, as long as I call him enough…!”

“I’m happy you could visit, Carrie.”

Brother and sister exchanged smiles. 

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other. Micky was much younger. He’s a man and a half now. And not bad-lookin’ at all!” Phil added.

“Yeah, he’s a fine bloke. And you need someone to help with that leg of yours… You should have called and told me right when it happened! Why wait a few weeks?”

“Yeah, like I’d stop middle of the shootin’ to go to the nearest phone, call in Oz’ and tell you about it…!” Phil joked and chuckled.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Phil..!”

“I know, I know, just jokin’. But I just didn’t want to scare y’all. You’re far from me and if I’d called you and said ‘oh hey, Carrie, I just got shot but everythin’s fine’, you'd have jumped in the first plane with your old age and your even older Mike to come and see me…!”

“Oi, you’re older than me and Mike’s your age!” She answered with a laugh. “Besides, here I am anyway with Micky.”

“Yeah, thanks for visitin’, really. I’m sure you’ll help a lot.”

“Of course I will…!”

“But yeah, you convinced Micky to come and Mike to stay?” Phil asked, his tone coming back to being a bit more serious.

“To be honest…” Caroline cast a glance over to Mundy. He was busy and far in the backyard, beyond the French window. In a word, he was out of earshot. “We had to kind of push him.”

“Push him to do what?”

“To come with me.” Caroline explained. 

“He wanted to stay with his Dad?”

“Yeah, nah, he just… He didn’t wanna stay with his Dad per se, but he likes to stick to the van. He practically lives there, you know, when he disappears off.”

“Ah, I see.” Phil nodded. “But don’t worry, Carrie. I’d be proud if I were you.”

“What? Why?” She raised a curious eyebrow.

“If the police come to him for help, he’s really good.” The old man poured more tea for his sister and himself. “We don’t get other folks to do our job, and if we ever do, we’re either forced to, or they’re so good that it hurts for us to admit it. Micky might be both.”

Caroline nodded but bobbed her head left and right.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Why force him to come?”

“I’m old, Phil, and I don’t like travellin’ that much.”

“Neither does he, from what you’re tellin’ me.”

“Yeah but... “

“Carrie?”

Caroline raised her eyes to her elder brother.

“I know you’re hidin’ somethin’. Tell me.”

She bit her lip and looked through the window again. Mundy was still absorbed in whatever he was doing with the dog.

“I’m a bit worried. I think he… He might be happy at work but…”

“But what?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t even know…!”

-- A few days later --

“Here, let me help…”

“Nah, it’s alright, Micky.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! Look, I just need to put the cane first, then this leg and - oof!- this one…! Ah, thanks, son.”

  Mundy helped his uncle get in the car anyway. 

“Alright, you’ll have to guide me, Uncle Phil.” The younger man hopped in the car.

“Yeah, it’s not too far. Let’s get to the café that I like and you’ll tell me what you think of their coffee, yeah?”

“Mum’s not comin’?” Mundy asked.

“Nah, she wants some quiet time without boys ruinin’ her cleanin’ the house. I got told off this mornin’ cause the house wasn’t clean enough for her standards!” 

“Sounds like Mum alright.” Both chuckled and Mundy adjusted the mirrors and the driver’s seat, fastening his seatbelt.

“Alright, let’s go, son.”

The drive was quiet. Phil told his nephew about the neighbourhood and how it had changed over the years, on the few occasions that they stopped at a red light. 

“Where can we park?”

“Behind the thing, take it left here… And there.”

Mundy parked and went around to help his uncle out. 

“The place looks nice and cosy, eh?” The young man said.

“Yeah, that’s why I like it.” Philip answered and they made their way in. “Here, that’s my table.”

The gentle smell of coffee wrapped them up as Mundy discovered the decor. Cosy was the right word for it. It practically looked like a living-room with the sofas and fireplace, the coffee table and magazines. The rest of the room had the classic restaurant/café layout with tables and chairs but that living-room corner looked very comfortable indeed. The walls were wooden and the beams of dark wood in the ceiling were clearly quite old. It reinforced the overall rustic yet familiar atmosphere.

“Oh hey, Phil!” The café owner greeted him.

“Hey Bob, how are ya?”

“Alright. Who’s this friend with you?” Bob asked as he made his way to Philip and his younger nephew. He was a big man in his late fifties for sure. Salt and pepper hair with more salt than pepper already and big square glasses on a nose that went with the proportions of the large man. Bob wore an apron with the colors and logo of the café and threw the tea towel he was holding on his shoulder.

“That here's my nephew, Micky. He’s come with his Mum to help out, while my bad leg heals up.”

“Oh, brilliant! Where are you guys from?” Bob looked at Mundy who took a seat opposite his uncle. He removed his hat but kept the aviators on. 

“From Australia.”

“That’s quite the trip, eh?”

“Yeah.” Mundy smiled.

“Alrighty then, I’ll let you make up your mind. Coffee’s on me, Phil. No, no, don’t even try to argue!” 

The three men exchanged a chuckle.

“Alright, Bobby, can you give us your classic. Make it two, I want the kid here to try it. Careful, he knows his way around coffees, eh?” Philip answered. 

“Sure thing! Two of Phil’s usual, on their way…!” Bob left Phil and his nephew in peace.

“So, how d’you find America so far, Micky?”

“Not so different from home. You just drive on the right, which confused me a bit but now I think I’m getting used to it.”

“Here, two classics. Enjoy, folks!” Bob put the two cups on the table and added a packet of chocolate for each before leaving them. 

Mundy and Phil were sitting in a corner of the café, next to the window. 

“Go ahead, son, and tell me.”

Mundy took a careful sip and let it invade his mouth, cover his palate and hug his tongue warmly. It was the beginning of October now and the weather was colder than in his native Australia, so the hot coffee was very welcome. 

“Mh… I like it.”

“Yeah?” Phil insisted.

“Yeah, I think so. It’s not too strong or bitter. It’s well balanced without being fruity or too sweet.”

“Gosh, listen to you talk,...!” Phil laughed. “You sound like one of those so called experts they bring on TV or somethin’, heh.”

“I’m just used to drinkin’ loads of coffee.” Mundy explained.

“Drink it when you work?”

“Yeah, all the time.” Mundy nodded and smiled. “I really like it.”

“Even when you’re in the desert, scorchin’ sun and all?” Phil asked.

“Oh yeah, absolutely.” Mundy answered. “It’s really good to drink something hot when it's hot. Helps you sweat and regulate your body temperature. They do that in the Sahara, only with tea and not coffee.”

“Right, right, I didn’t know that, but now that you say it, it kinda makes sense. So talkin’ about your work, tell me what it’s like.”

“What?” Mundy chuckled.

“You a hunter, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So tell me how and what you hunt, son!”

“Oh, uh, you sure?” Mundy asked, raising a surprised eyebrow.

“O’course! Why d’you sound shocked?”

“Cause Mum and Dad don’t really like what I’m doin’ so I don’t really uh… I’m not used to talkin’ about it, is all.” Mundy lowered his head, as if ashamed.

“Yeah and I understand your folks but I’m not them. Besides, I’m a policeman. I’m sure your Mum doesn’t like my job either for the same reason she’s not fond of yours.”

“Fair, yeah.” Mundy nodded, raising his head back for his eyes to meet with his uncle’s.

“So, go ahead! Tell me everythin’!”

Seeing his uncle’s enthusiasm made him blush for an instant. Mundy felt put on the spot. He looked around them and the other customers in the café didn’t pay the last bit of attention to them. He smiled and took a bit of air before starting.

[pasttorn]

      -- SHORP. mega quick update on what’s up with me & a mini announcement that i’d LOVE if y’all could spare a couple minutes to look through ( & maybe consider joining or sharing with a friend y’all feel would be interested ! ). 

        -- EVEN if y’all don’t care about me as a mun / blog, at least skim the announcement section bc it’s important to me & where i am rn ! 

     UPDATE ! !

       -- SINCE december, i’ve started college ! ! the saving up year of college at least, bc the college i’m in has this thing where if we don’t have enough money to pay for the tuition fee ( which rly is just, money for us to spend throughout our first year & our trips & other expenses like food or gasoline ) we can join the saving up year & they’ll give us a job to earn the money. & while i was a bit more free before, they finally found a job for me at the canteen, which means i’m off cooking with the head chef for literally the entire day for the whole campus-- which is largely the reason i haven’t written much or said anything here ! !

      -- I’M trying as hard as i can to manage my time better in order to not be so tired / drained at the end of the day, in order to try to write something here or spend time with closer rp friends, but between moving to a new place ( since i’m living in the campus now, which is in a whole different country to where i was ! ) & getting used to the job & getting to know my teammates / classmates that i’m gonna be working with the next four+ years, it’ll take me a lil’ bit longer to try to get this blog up & running again. 

       -- FOR those wondering, i’m NOT dropping this blog & i’m not dropping any of the threads / asks i have saved up unless my rp partners don’t wanna keep writing them anymore, because this blog is too important for me to just give it up, but i am gonna be quiet / on a mini hiatus a lil’ bit longer. if any ship partners ( be it platonic or romantic ) that have a close relation w/ my muse want to break things up & move on, then even though it’d sadden me to see it end, i’d understand, because i cannot guarantee i’ll be the most active in plotting or thinking about our muses relationships & it might take some more time before i can go back to ‘ normal ‘ here-- but if y’all are willing to wait a bit longer, then i’d love it if we could continue it. if you don’t, then please tell me so we can make changes at some point because the last thing i want is for y’all to feel i’m neglecting you or your muse, which is not my intention & i apologise if i ever made y’all feel that way.

     ANNOUNCEMENT ! !

       -- TIME to promote the college i’m currently studying at ! ! or am gonna be studying at in september, at least ishuegrdfmkcvx. the college is DNS Necessary Teacher’s Training Programme, & it’s a college dedicated to training teachers ! ! honestly i’ve only been in the campus for a month now, & from the chats i’ve had with people from other years & from graduates & from my teammates in general, i can already tell it’s gonna be a worth it sort of experience. in their own words, we’re all not looking to be the ‘ traditional ‘ type of teachers, & are learning by experiencing & travelling-- the first year we travel to africa, & in the second year we ( your school year team ) picks a country in europe to live in & work in ! ! 

       -- IF you don’t have enough money, that’s alright ! you can join the saving up year, & earn the money here yourself ( & in the chance you don’t make enough, the team is here to pay the difference if we can ). if you’re worried you’re too young or too old for the programme, let me just tell you that in the 2021 school team ( the year i’m in ) the ages range from 18 to 27. if you’re worried about previous experiences, just know that this my first time in a college or even getting a job, & we’re all ! ! willing to help with anything as a team. all you really need is the drive to be committed to the programme & to the team-- because you are going to be busy almost all day, & it might get tough to deal with sometimes, & you need to know what you’re comfortable with or are not comfortable with doing.

       -- I was very nervous before coming bc rly, i’m an introverted fool that still doesn’t know what i want out of life even though i’m 21 & should know at this point, & even had a breakdown the first night i got here bc i was in a new place on my own & didn’t know what the fuck i was getting into & was so afraid of disappointing everyone, but god everyone here is super welcoming & understanding about everything. since the month i’ve been here, i’ve made friends that also very much love anime, have found out that sexuality ( or the lack thereof ) is openly discussed & accepted, there’s a D&D group & there’s just, a bunch of creativity everywhere. & yeah, it can be overwhelming sometimes, but there’s always someone in the team who would be willing to spend time with you & to help you out with whatever you may need, because in the end we’re all dealing with the same things. i’ve even gotten along with people from other school years ( that started their studies in 2020 or 2018 ), & honestly you can’t even tell they’re in a different year at times bc everyone is always so kind & open about everything.

     -- I’M not gonna lie, i’ve only been here a month for the saving up, & so far all of this feels like a real life acnh adventure, where everyone in the team is the mayor. wild comparison but everyone is so welcoming & we all live in the campus & see each other every day, that it really feels like interacting with other villagers & the money we make goes to maintaining the college / the community / our team, so it very much feels like i’m the mayor / mc in anch trying to decorate the island / make it better idK

          LINKS to check out ! ! 

Quick 3 min video ! ! ! pls watch ! ! !

WEBSITE

FACEBOOK PAGE

INSTAGRAM

NEWSLETTER

       -- IF you have any questions about the programme or what it’s like to study here, pls don’t be afraid to hit me up in DM’s either on here or on disc//ord ( SHORP#8549 ) ! ! i’d be more than happy to answer any questions or share images / videos bc god, it’d be so cool if one of y’all or someone y’all know would be interested in the programme ! 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #467

“oh, mary, mary, ain’t this fun?  /  mary, mary, i’ve got a gun”

If the last person you kissed asked you to marry them, what would you do? Pray to god it wasn't in public and tell him it's waaaay too soon for that one. Does your favorite uncle have any children? Yeah, a son and daughter. Name all the members (first, middle and last names) from your favorite band. Ha, it's funny how once upon a time, I could do this. All I've got now is John Michael Osbourne. Have you ever heard a young child swear? Maybe? Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo?: Yes to both. Has a taste of something ever made you smile? Boy meet me at The Cheesecake Factory and see what my face does lmaooo As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be a paleontologist sooo badly. I wanted to discover new dinosaurs, put a shitload of work into unearthing fossils and being so proud to see the final results... Even now as an adult, if I could handle the heat, traveling, and hardcore school, I'd still love to do that. Would you cuss the person you hate the most out to their face? No. My hatred for her is unjustified and I'd rather just not say anything to her. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Where do you see your closest friend in ten years? As one of the strongest people around. I imagine her with a job in medical coding, while also pursuing the hobbies of ball python breeding and writing. I'm sure she'll have loads of pets to love, too! Do you like Florence + The Machine? I've never listened to them. Did you watch the presidential debates? No. Do you ever watch Dr. Phil? No. Are you typically unattracted to people outside of your race? No; I can be attracted to any race. Have you ever ridden any animal other than a horse? No. Do you brush your hair when it’s wet? Yes. Do you eat the crusts of your bread? Yeah, I always have. Have you ever flown a kite? Yeah! At my childhood home, there was a tobacco field directly across the street, and when they weren't in season so the field was flat, Dad would help us with getting kites set up and in the air. Those are good memories. How are you for money? I don't make any money. Mom is struggling. Do you think you are more intelligent than the average person? Ha, no. Do you ever think about why we are here? Does it matter? We're here, so make the most of it. Do you like cherries? I fucking hate cherries. Name a celebrity that you admire that nobody would expect you to: Jeffree Star, probs. Can you use a yoyo? Not well, but yeah. Do you think Jenna Marbles’ videos are funny? I've actually never watched her. Do you like folk music? NOOOOOOOOO Ever had a crush on somebody of the same sex? Yes. Do you know any lesbians? Yep. Favourite member of your favourite band: I'm unfamiliar with all but Ozzy himself. And Ozzy is rad. Who’s your favourite female rapper? I don't have one. When you were younger, were you ever in a relationship with someone you now realize was way too old for you? No. Have you ever had a seizure? No. I sometimes have very, very quick spasms when I'm falling asleep that feel like what I assume a seizure would, but they barely last a second. They seriously jerk me awake, though, and are very startling. What’s the oldest man-made object you own? I dunno. Is there anything you feel like you need a break from? Not really, no. What do you hate to hear people joke about? I will actually and remorselessly deck you in the jaw if you make a joke about rape. There are other things that are absolutely forbidden joking matters for me, too. What’s the largest animal you’ve seen in the wild? Hmmm... Nothing that big, really. Maybe a whitetail deer buck? Do any of your friends or family members have strange occupations? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever been in weather so severe that you feared for your safety? Oh yeah. We've had some savage thunderstorms. What political issues are the most important to you personally? LGBTQ+ rights and just equality in general, the pro-choice movement, environmental conservation, gun control, the abolishment of poverty and homelessness... There is honestly a lot. I could keep going. Do you know anyone who doesn’t know how to cook even just simple recipes? ... Me. :x Especially now that I'm in a relationship, I really want to make a greater effort to learn. I want to prove to him I give a damn about the success of our relationship and that I'm capable of being an adult that can take part in general adult responsibilities. ^What’s stopping them from learning this basic life skill? Laziness. Forgetfulness. The fear of getting burned. What small thing makes you automatically distrust someone? I can pick up on sketchy body language from a mile away. I'm too paranoid not to. Of all the states/provinces in your country, which one is your favorite? At least from photographs I've seen, Utah appears BEAUTIFUL. That whole region of the U.S. in general. Are there any obscure foods you’ve eaten that most people have never tried? That's very unlikely. I'm far from explorative with food. When you travel to other countries, do you always try the local cuisine? I've never been outside the U.S. I would probably do that, though. I'd really want to experience the culture as thoroughly as I could. What did you do for your 19th birthday? Hell if I remember. What’s the kindest thing a total stranger has done for you? I remember as a young kid, my parents, two sisters, and I were getting food at McDonald's, and whoever was in front of us paid for our meals. Such a sweet gesture for a larger family. Have you ever used a meal kit delivery service? No, but there actually is one that I can't recall the name of that I'd like to try when I cook myself, especially getting started learning, but yeah, subscription fees. You see a lot of YouTubers get sponsored by them, if that rings a bell. Do you have any psychological issues rooted in events from your childhood? Possibly my fear of men, with my dad having been an alcoholic that had a 50/50 chance of being very angry when drunk. How organized are the files on your computer? Pretty organized, I'd say. I put stuff into folders. Would you date someone with braces? Yes? Do you ever rehearse conversations before you have them? Only always. Do you get angry at yourself or at others more often? Myself, for sure. When taking a cab, do you talk to the driver? I've never even taken a cab. Who or what greets you at the door every time you come home? Nobody, really. My cat is occasionally in the living room to see who's home, but not always because he's a lazy cat, ha ha. Do you ever chat about your favourite video games with your friends? Not really, no. I wish. Have you ever supported anyone’s Kickstarter? If so, what was it? No, bc I'm poor. Are you currently studying a language? If so, which one? No. Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Yeah. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want some 'cuz I'm paranoid as hell. Are you waiting on anything right now? No. Have you ever been described as shy? Is it true? Oh, always. It's absolutely true. Name something you’re a complete sucker for? Baby animals, to name one thing. Do you remember when you first went on the internet? Nope. What is one way someone could completely put you off on a first date? Arrogance/over-confidence. What about a way someone could make you like them more on a first date? Make me genuinely laugh a lot, to name one way. Are you in love right now? Not yet. I love him with our decade of history, but I need more experience as a couple before I've got the confidence to say that. Do you wanna get married anytime soon? It wouldn't be smart to. I want to be in a strong relationship for quite a few years before I want that. Have you ever kissed someone in a band? No. Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No but oh my fucking god I wish!!!!!! Did your mom or dad ever put soap in your mouth? No, but Mom would threaten to. What was the last fruit you ate? Well, I had strawberry yogurt earlier today. Who was the last person to make you laugh? Girt. He is very, very good at that. Have you ever dated someone with more piercings than you? No. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Hell yeah man. Is there one night of your life you wish had never happened? I wish it hadn't happened the way it did. Do you have a close relationship with your sibling(s)? No. What was the last thing that you shared? Some watermelon Sour Patch Kids with my mom. Do you think people talk behind your back? You couldn't get me to believe my mom doesn't at least sometimes to my sisters even if you tried your absolute damnedest. In real life do you laugh like ‘haha,’ 'hehe’ or something else? It depends on what I'm laughing at/at what intensity. Do you have any unusual skills? Nah. Who’s your favourite person? I don't have a sole favorite person. I love many people in different ways for varying reasons. Are there any chores you actually enjoy doing? No. When did you last have an "Oh, I get it now!" moment? Watching Attack on Titan yesterday w/ Girt. Have your parents ever suspected something untrue about you? My mom HAD to have suspected I was doing something FAR worse than innocent meerkat RP to have borderline fucking traumatized me invading my privacy and forcing shit out of me regarding what I was always doing on the computer so secretively. Like I get it, she was a concerned mother, but I was a fucking WRECK because I found it so embarrassing. It was insulting that she didn't trust her well-behaved daughter. What do you think about video games? They're great for both the creators and consumers. They're wonderful expressions of creativity, and so much fun to experience as a player, delving into a new world and getting engrossed in the story. I could go onnnn and onnnnn about what video games mean to me. I've gone my whole life as a loyal gamer. Are there any forms of Art you personally find pointless? I really, really don't get a lot of abstract art that's worth fucking thousands, BUT, I absolutely disagree that they are without purpose. The artist created what they did for SOME reason. As a distraction, a method of expressing emotion, to convey an idea... Are you tired right now? I have been SO ridiculously tired today. Like it's unreal. I've taken I wanna say three naps and I'm still sleepy. What’s something you do a lot? Drink something. I'm not talking about alcohol; just in general, I ALWAYS need some kind of drink by me, and I go through drinks pretty quickly. Are you currently on any other websites? Yeah, I'm watching YouTube. Are you good at using Photoshop? I'm decent, I guess. Have you ever been told you naturally tilt your head a certain way? Yes, actually, at least by my mom, and she's right. My head tends to tilt VERY slightly to the right, and I can tell by how easy it is to bend my head that way as opposed to left. I'll feel a biiiit more strain.

[dragonotaku-justineverything]

Single Mom AU: (is hopefully completely different from the single father AU) Blake is a single mother that just got divorced from her abusive ex-husband, Adam. Her and her son move to the new town of Argus and they meet the owner of a local hole in the wall restaurant named Jaune.

Sure! It’s Blake’s turn to have some spotlight in an AU. This one can maybe focus more on Blake and her son rather than Jaune.

AU accepted!

Blake had done it. She was free from the monster. She’d wanted to leave him for over a year, but she’d been too afraid. That was until he struck their five year old son Kilo. For no reason other than SHE hadn’t been their for him to hit after he got angry…

She started the divorce process months ago, something Adam hadn’t been exactly happy about. Now it was finally over. Her and Kilo were now in Argus, far away from Adam now. 

They were safe now.

…

And also broke.

…

While Adam may have been an abusive monster to them, he was also their only source of income. Blake was the stay at home mom for Kilo and Adam worked to support all of them.

She had managed to stow away quite a bit of funds after she first realized her wish to leave him. She was scared, but she wanted to be ready in case she ever got the chance to get her wish. Adam smugly signed the divorce papers, thinking that Blake would just come crawling back after she realized she didn’t have the money to support herself. Especially when she also had their kid, which is how she got full custody. He thought Blake was dependent on him both financially and mentally.

Well he was wrong. The same day Adam signed the papers, Blake grabbed Kilo, all their personal belongings that Blake could fit into two suit cases and a duffel bag, her stashed funds, and bought two tickets as far away as she could.

In hindsight, that was a very poor decision. Just the tickets almost depleted all of the money Blake had saved. Then she had to pay for a hotel room for a few days since she had no living plans and food to sneak into the hotel room to eat. They weren’t big meals, snacks more than anything, but they were better than nothing.

It had been three days now. Each day Blake went out to hunt for a job, Kilo having to go with her as she searched all around Argus. She couldn’t get one. Wherever she went, either they were not hiring, they were too far away, or she didn’t have the skills for the position.

She tried not to consider the thought that they turned her away because she was a faunus.

Either way, three days passed with no luck, and Kilo asked if they could go to the park instead of walk around again. Blake looked to her son and his pleading eyes. Her poor boy had been put through the ringer the last few days, he deserved a break. So Blake relented.

The went and spent the whole afternoon in the park. He played on the playground, climbed a tree (much to high for Blake’s liking), and they rested under a tree together while Blake read a story to him. It was only when the sun started to set that Blake realized how much time had passed. So she took her son’s little hand and started to head back to the hotel. 

As they walked towards the front entrance to the hotel, they passed by a restaurant. Kilo tugged on her arm. “Hey Mommy! Mommy! Can we get some food please!?”

Blake looked to where her son was pointing. The restaurant was named Jaune’s. It didn’t look very expensive. However, Blake didn’t want to spend any more money than necessary. She looked down to tell her soon no, but her traitorous stomach growled. It wasn’t her fault the snacks she’d brought to the park weren’t very filling…

Regardless, Blake followed her son as excitedly ran towards the door to Jaune’s. As it was late, the place wasn’t very busy. It was also probably close to closing for them. Luckily for them it meant that they got a booth all to themselves. 

Her son happily doodle away on his kids menu with the crayons that came with it. He asked their waitress very politely if he could have the crispy chicken fingers and fries. Blake ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, a grilled chicken sandwich with cheese, lettuce, and mayo. Blake also got a vanilla milkshake for the both of them, much to the joy of Kilo.

The meal was good. Great actually. It also helped that the food was relatively cheap, cheaper than what the delicious food could have been charged for. It cost nothing like the dinners that A-….Adam took them to…

They eat in relative silence, only talking briefly in between bites. Though they took their time, enjoying the peacefulness of the meal as the last of the patrons around them left, leaving them as the only customers left. When they were all done and the trays were taken away, Blake had to face the part of the dinner she was dreading. Paying the bill.

‘O-okay…. 22 Lien…..not that much at all… Maybe I just won’t leave a tip…. I don’t like it bu-…oh no…’ While Blake stared at the check, she had pulled out her wallet and opened it.

She didn’t have enough. The 20 Lien card she thought she had was actually a 10…she only had 15.

“K-Kilo sweetie, can you wait right here for a minute? Mommy will be right back okay?”

“Okay Mommy.”

Blake left her son sitting in their booth as she walked up to her waitress, a young blonde girl named Sara. “E-excuse me…I h-have a small problem.”

The kind girl looked at her with a smile. “What is it ma’am? Did you want something brought to your table. Or was something wrong with your meal?”

“N-no no. Nothing any of you did wrong. I-it’s just that I….don’t have enough money to pay for our meal…”

“The waitress’s smile faltered, but she kept it up, though it was much weaker. “O-oh. I-I’m not…uh sure what uhhhh…. I-I’ll go get my boss. Please,” She put a lot of emphasis on the please there, “Wait here.”

The girl quickly hurried to the back of the restaurant and disappeared as she walked into the kitchen. A minute later, she came back into the view. With her came a tall blonde man whose was taking off an apron. The waitress pointed to Blake from the kitchen doorway and the man said something to her before walking out of the kitchen and over to Blake nervously fidgeting form.

As he approached, Blake saw just how much taller than her he was, by almost a full foot! Though when he spoke, his voice wasn’t angry or annoyed. It was pleasant, if only a little curious. “Hello, I heard you had an issue with the check?”

“N-not with the check itself… I just don’t have enough Lien to cover it.”

“Oh. Well, how much was the check?”

“U-uhhh…22 Lien….I only have 15. I-I have more, b-back in our hotel room….but no wait, I need that to pay for the room! I-I can pay you back once I get a job, though I don’t know w-when that’ll be. I’ll pay you back I promise, j-just p-p-”

The man’s eyes widen as he watched as the woman in front of him started to breathe heavily and frantically while she rambled on. It even looked like tears were about to start falling. 

“I’ll pay you back I promise, j-just p-p-please don’t call the police. I-I’ll-” A hand on her shoulder snapped the brunette faunus down out of her panic. 

She noticed the tall man looking down to meet her eyes. “Woah woah woah. Please calm down ma’am.”

Blake took a shaky breath and rubbed the build up of tears from her eyes. “I’m s-sorry. I’ve never done this before. I’m not doing this on purpose I swear!”

“And I believe you. Unless you just one heck of an actress, no one would be this upset over being 7 Lien short on a check. Something tells me that more to this….so I’ll make you a deal.”

“A….a deal?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t make sense to call the cops over 7 Lien, so I won’t. I’ll cover the bill for you, but only if you tell me what’s got you so upset.”

Blake blinked at the man “W-what? Why?”

“Why cover the tab or why do I want to know why you’re upset? For the first one it’s only 7 Lien and for the second, I don’t like seeing people upset, especially in here. This is a place where people come to have good food, chat with friends, and to forget about their troubles for a little bit. So, do we have a deal?”

Blake glanced back over to her son in the booth. He’d gotten up to moved to the other side where she’d but her belongings on the bench and had pulled out the book from earlier and started flipping through it without a care in the world. She wasn’t sure she should be so trusting of this stranger, but he seemed to be very kind and understanding. The air he carried around him seemed, almost comforting...

She looked back to the tall man and nodded. “Yes. Thank you. Can we do it over there so my son isn’t left alone?”

He smiled warmly and nodded himself. “Of course. By the way, Sara said he was a really polite boy too.”

“O-oh...thank you.”

Blake walked with the man back over to the booth. Kilo kept looking at his book even as she slid into the booth. He definitely was her son. “Kilo?”

He finally looked back up, looking slightly surprised that she returned, and definitely surprised to see the new man stand at the end of their table. “Yes Mommy?”

She gestured to the tall blonde man. “This is.....ummm I’m sorry sir, but I don’t even know your name.”

The tall man blinked owlishly at her, then he started to chuckle nervously and scratched the back of his head, a light dusting of red spread across his cheeks and nose. “Oh haha, yeah I guess I never told you my name huh? Hehe.” He dropped the hand from his neck and offered his other one out to her. “M-my name is Jaune Arc, short, sweet, rolls of the tongue, the ladies love it.”

[tuffduff]

Life After You (Duff McKagan x Reader)

Pairing: angsty/fluffy Duff x Reader

Words: 4,733

A/N: Hey loves! This one actually isn’t a request, I was inspired by Taylor Swift’s “All Too Well” and actually didn’t intend for this to be so long, but it just came out. 

P A R T  T W O

Seattle had never been your home. You were not a born and raised native, never quite got used to the torrential downpours and overcast skies. In fact, you always waited for the day you would eventually move, figuring the setting to be just a minor stepping stone in your ultimate life story.

Until you met him.

It started in autumn, with falling leaves and brisk air. You had barely entered your twenties and the existential dread hadn’t yet set in; you were itching to find your niche and sense of belonging. Maybe that’s why you agreed to go with friends to some punk house to see a local band. The guys playing were interesting for lack of a better word, and you found yourself staring at the bassist. He was the tallest of the bunch with shaggy blonde hair and wandering eyes that kept finding their way back to you. You brushed it off though, thinking you were imagining it, until your friend leaned over and whispered, “the tall blonde one is checking you out.”

After the show, when the band began mingling with the small crowd, you wondered if he was going to come and introduce himself. That’s when someone hollered a warning for the cops and everyone scattered. You split out one of the backdoors, thankful that you lived just down the block.

“Hey! Wait up!” You slowed down in the alley, watching your breath in the air as the tall blonde ran to catch up to you. He had something in his hand; the scarf you had worn out and already forgotten about. It must have slipped off when you ran.

“Oh...thank you! You didn’t have to do that,” you replied, accepting the garment back. He shrugged a little, trying to keep eye contact but slightly faltering.

“I’ve never seen you around before.” He noted.

“Do you recognize every face around here?” You asked, unable to stop the smile from forming on your face. He smiled back.

“Only the pretty ones.” You weren’t expecting that. Nor the blush that crept to your cheeks. “I’d known if I had seen you before.”

“This is my first show. You were really great, by the way...?”

“Duff.” He replied, sticking his hand out. You took it with a smile.

“Y/N.”

“Do you live far?” He asked. For some reason, it wasn’t threatening. Some wall had already been broken from the beginning, when you both couldn’t stop staring.

“Down the block, thankfully. I should be able to make it home in about five minutes if I walk fast.” You replied.

“How about I walk you and we make it in 10?” He offered. You tilted your head.

“Why 10?”

“We’ll walk slow.”

That was exactly what happened. Ten minutes turned quickly to 15, and then 20, with the both of you talking outside your residence, both of you seemingly unwilling to let the night end. You were freezing beneath your coat but didn’t notice; Duff however was without a jacket and had his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

“Can I see you again?” He asked bluntly. You smiled.

“You know where to find me.” He smiled back.

“Cool. Okay. Have a goodnight, Y/N—” he had turned to start walking away, but you had grabbed onto his shoulder to stop him. Gently, you draped the scarf around his neck.

“I think you need this more than I do. Take good care of it, you hear?” You told him with feigned seriousness. His returning smile was one you would never get out of your mind. Even to this day.

And so it went you discovered real love. Maybe with other people, they didn’t quite realize it at the time, but with Duff, you just knew. He was your first love, and with him came a new stage in your life. There was life before Duff and now life with Duff.

Back then, you had been blissfully unaware that there would be life after too.

Days quickly turned to a weeks. Months passed; holidays were celebrated in a new fashion, always together. Him not having quite enough money for a Christmas present, so he wrote you a song and gifted you a necklace that had once belonged to his grandmother. There were never any arguments, the both of you couldn’t get enough of each other. You figured, in the back of your head, that it was infatuation and it would wear off soon, but for those months, neither of you could get your fill.

Somehow a year had flown by and you found yourself back in autumn again, a year under your belts as a couple without possibly being able to imagine being more in love. And yet, you found new ways to fall in love with him just about every day. The two of you moved in together, Duff working at a bakery and you doing your best juggling school and working at a record shop, where Duff would spent his free time.

He had a broad assortment of family members and friends and you had taken a spot amongst them. They all knew you too, they were now your friends. Duff’s mom had you over every other weekend and would bake pies with you, telling stories of growing up during the depression and what Duff was like as a child. The charming youngest, always creative and eager to perform his duty as a man, trying his best to look after his mom. “He’ll always do his best at taking care of you and succeeding, but I’m just glad he’s found someone to take care of his heart.” She would tell you.

Duff knew he could make real money moving up at the bakery he was at. After-all, he was a hard worker and his bosses appreciated that, and really, it wasn’t bad work. But he always talked about music; the both of you would stay up at night staring at the darkened ceiling sharing your hopes, your dreams, your past, your futures. Sometimes the ceiling would grow light as you stayed up talking. Your fears would come into conversation too, but those moments were fleeting; you were both young and ambitious and fueled by love, what in this life couldn’t be accomplished when you had that?

He talked too, in disdain and grief, about the state of his hometown, of the dangerous heroin use spiraling out of control, vowing he would never turn out like them. He said he was ready to get out, like you had always said.

But then you were offered a chance of a lifetime, an internship at the local radio station for your journalism degree. You couldn’t leave now, but Duff was already decided. It left you both at a fork in the road.

“I would never stop you. You’re right. The only way you’re gonna know if you can make it is away from here. I’ll be right behind you; I’m sure I can easily find work in LA after my internship.” You put on a strong face and decided to be his rock. You had to take care of his heart. After all, your love was the strongest thing you had ever experienced. If you were meant to be, it always would and you had no doubts whatsoever, even if it meant time apart.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll call you every day. You’ll have to visit when you have the chance, okay?” He took your scarf amongst the bare minimum of things packed away in his old car, and you waved goodbye with a smile and weird sense of displacement, but ultimately, you were hopeful.

Time somehow went faster and slower after he left. He did in fact call you every day, telling you about his new job working at the same restaurant with his brother. The shitty apartment he found and how he slept with cockroaches. “You wouldn’t last a day here, baby.” He teased you over the phone when you lamented your disgust. “Every night there’s helicopter lights outside my window. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow…” He kept your spirits high with his humor, even miles and miles away.

He told you all about meeting Slash and Steven, who were looking for a bass player for their band. He called you with a heavy heart often because he missed you, he called to hear your voice when he doubted himself. The excited phone calls were your favorite. His happiness was yours and it was beginning to sound like he might just have a chance in LA—not that you ever doubted it.

You answered every call at first, but as your semester went on, it got harder. Your phone calls grew scarce, but he still kept you updated. He mailed flowers to your house when you had your finals, somehow scrounging up money he had made from gigs with his new band, Guns ‘N Roses.

“The guys can’t wait to meet you, Y/N.” He told you over the phone and you would laugh listening to the group of guys yelling their hellos in the background. You had chatted with all of them at one point. They called you hotshot affectionately, impressed by the fact that you were actually obtaining a college degree.

Graduation came, but Duff didn’t. He had a gig the same night. But it wasn’t a big deal to you, his mom and sisters came. Duff called you as soon as the gig finished, and though you stayed on the phone for over an hour, you still cried yourself to sleep.

Aspiring for LA right out of the gates had been a naïve pipedream on your part. Duff had done it, but it was different for you. Turned out, it wasn’t the place where dreams came true, at least not for you. Work sent you across the country, all the way to Spartanburg, South Carolina, where you found work as a reporter.

“Someday when we’re actually making money, you won’t have to work anymore.” Duff would try to reassure you. To his credit, he helped you move despite his busy schedule that was only growing more demanding. “I’m gonna give you the life you deserve.”

“I don’t mind the work, if it weren’t here.” You told him, smiling. “Gotta get something out of this piece of paper though, right? I just…miss you.” You never knew missing someone could cause physically heartache.

“Believe me, babe, I miss you more. The guys are tired of hearing about it. But we’re gonna be together again soon, just wait. You can stick out here and you’re going to do amazing and soon, we’ll both be living in some nice place in LA.”

This was the point in your life where you were so busy you couldn’t keep your eyes open when you made it home at night. You had long hours, early hours, and it seemed your schedule and Duff’s schedule, or, lack thereof, never matched up. If he called, it was usually after midnight when you were sleeping. If you called back, it was early morning, when he was sleeping. Communication was exchanged more through voicemail than an actual call. You saved every one that he left you.

Guns N’ Roses gigs were now selling out all the local clubs. There was a record deal for his band, and then an album. You were climbing your own ladder too, and just when you finally had the opportunity to work out of LA for a promising up-and-coming music magazine, Duff was about to be taken away, on tour. You only had about a week together in LA when you made it. But what a week it was.

“Every day you weren’t here, I would wake up and the sun would be out and the first thing I would think is ‘Y/N is gonna love it here.’” He told you as you drove down Sunset Boulevard. He had an actual car now to his name and new clothes and you had never been attracted to him more in your life. The both of you spent at least a day marveling over one another’s new appearances.

“God, I can’t believe I get to call you mine. You just look different,” he told you while stopped at a stoplight. He couldn’t take his eyes away from you, traveling up and down in disbelief, shaking his head slightly. “How is it possible that you’ve gotten more beautiful?” His smiled, you told yourself to remember the moment, to take in the warm glow of the sun and crowds of people on the street, Guns N’ Roses on the radio as you drove, palm trees over your head. You were in bliss. At least, most of the time.

Love was just as you had remembered it. That reunited week was like heaven for your tired soul; you had grown used to an empty bed and now you still couldn’t catch up on sleep, the two of you wasting each night tangled in limbs and sheets, still unable to get enough of each other. He showed you his favorite parts of the Sunset nightlife, some of which you didn’t have the heart to tell him you disliked; the shady Mexican restaurant where patrons were getting blowjobs under the table, or the various clubs they had played and conquered, where bar-goers puked outside the doors and went back in for more.

The rest of Guns N’ Roses were as authentic as Duff and they were easy to appreciate and get along with. They never made you feel like an outsider, even when that was plainly obvious—you didn’t dress like the girls on the strip and you never let it bother you, you were simply being you and that was enough.

Though you and Duff still had endless conversation to share, you couldn’t help but notice a difference, one glaringly obvious one; he drank more than he ever had before. It would start with vodka out of the gates and never seemed to stop. You were the only one left to carry him home, sober and still living in the real world.

“Baby, maybe you should slow down on the drinking.” You tried to tell him before he left for tour.

“Hey—don’t worry about me, okay, beautiful?” He breezed off your words with a kiss goodbye and a smile. “Take care of yourself and don’t miss me too much.”

This time, time went even faster. The magazine was in high-demand and you had several assignments seemingly all at the same time, ever moment of every day. You even had the pleasure of covering Guns N’ Roses as they became one of the hottest bands in the world. It seemed everywhere you went, all you ever saw were guys dressed like Duff, or Duff’s face on the cover of a magazine. On MTV, sometimes the news. Now, everything felt surreal.

This is where things get blurry; you don’t spend too much time in this period of your memories. Why would you? The drunk phone calls. Lonely nights in LA. The nasty rumors. Any time you were reunited, all you could smell was liquor. To this day, the smell made your stomach drop.

“Duff, I’m serous. I’m not asking you anymore, I’m telling you; you drink too much.” You were forced to put your foot down during a rare time of being reunited.

“Y/N, ease up. It’s not that big of deal, that’s what we do.”

“Since when?” You questioned. “How many times did we talk about old friends back home, how many of them took it too far?”

“I’m not like them.” He snapped back. “I don’t depend on drinking, or coke, or anything—I’ve only done heroin one time!” This was the first of many times his addiction finally began cracking away at your heart. You couldn’t fathom that he didn’t see an issue in his words.

“Duff, you said you never would.”

“So what, it was one time, Y/N! It’s not like I’m addicted, get off my back.” No, these were not the conversations you spent your time thinking of.

It began a long battle in your relationship that you were both destined to lose, and also became an internal battle to yourself. Maybe you had it all wrong, after-all, it wasn’t as if you didn’t indulge in drinking every now and then too, the both of you were young, it was LA—what was the harm? You tried desperately to see it from his point, he was a Rockstar, he did have an image to maintain…but that never held up in your head rationally; this wasn’t your Duff. He didn’t give a fuck about an image. But was it your place to police him? Often times, you just felt like the lame girlfriend. You started keeping your mouth shut despite your growing alarm and aching heart.

Too quickly, it turned to recklessness, then even quicker to hopelessness. To the rest of the world, Guns was still the band that was gonna take over the 90s. They were on one of the longest rock tours in history, they had a double album out, but you knew better. They had already lost members; you had written the articles about Steven and then Izzy’s departures. You sometimes wondered at night if Duff would be next.

He hadn’t even been there to help you move into the new house the two of you bought together. It felt as empty as your relationship and you wondered why you stayed, only to have the question answered every time you looked back into his eyes. Would you ever not love this man?

“I’m gonna fix it, I swear. I just—there’s nothing I can do. Axl’s always late and so we just—we drink. And, I can’t help it, Y/N, you know those panic attacks I always used to get? It’s not like you’re with me anymore and I just get them all the fucking time. I can’t fly without drinking; it just sets me off. I can’t take all the shit, when we’re late to the stage all you can hear is the crowd getting angry...” you knew all about that; you had written an article about the Riverport Riot. At this point you were tired of writing about the latest of the controversial rumors and incidents.

It wasn’t as if his words didn’t break your heart. You were at a complete loss. Rationally, you knew he had a disease that you had to fight together, but it only resulted in the both of you screaming at each other. Duff wasn’t at a place where he wanted to change, that was what made it hard.

At first, you avoided the realization, you tried running from it. When friends asked, you always said your relationship was better than ever. But the worse his issues got, the more you were pushed to confront them. It was just drinking anymore, it was pills and cocaine and whatever else just happened to be in the room, whatever someone slipped him.

Ultimatums weren’t your thing; you were never going to beg someone to prove you were important. Plus, you had seen addictions cripple people. Duff was in its vice grip and had already slipped away from you, it was very obvious what you had to do. But how? How could you, he was your soulmate. This was still the boy who had walked you home that autumn night—he was all you knew. How do you unravel yourself from someone tied so intricately to every detail of your life?

You couldn’t tell him at first, you just packed up and left. You ran. It was a while before he called you, demanding to know what was going on. To date, it’s still your most humiliating phone call. It’s not a memory you revisit, ever, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the pain of it or the embarrassment—you had cried so hard you couldn’t work the next day.

For a while, you felt empty. Lost. You would cry at stoplights. You would cry at lunch, in the grocery store passing by his favorite chips. The radio was much too risky to ever bother with, if it wasn’t one of their songs coming through the speaker, it was his favorite Prince song, or a song tied to a memory.

The youth of your twenties faded that day and you were pushed into the next period of your life reluctantly, your steps sluggish and uncertain. It was autumn again, cozy months where people spent their time with loved ones. You spent it crying over the idea of Thanksgiving alone, unable to pull out any Christmas decorations or pretend to care about any semblance of a normal life; all of this was new again and still littered with the broken promises of something you thought you would never lose. How were you ever going to decorate a tree again when he wasn’t there to put you on top of his shoulders to place the star? Who was going to make snickerdoodle and gingerbread cookies by your side? His jackets and shirts made up half your wardrobe, his fingerprint on your life was almost entirely irreversible.

It wasn’t as though he gave up on you. Sometimes he would call. At first you always answered, frantic and hopeful.

“I stopped drinking,” he told you, but had a slurred speech.

“Then why are you drunk?” You questioned, already on the verge of tears.

“I’m not drunk,” he denied your words. “I haven’t drank vodka in a week.”

“Then what are you drinking?” You were aware of how stupid you sounded, playing along, but couldn’t stop the hope you felt.

“Wine. It’s not bad,” he insisted. “I stopped drinking for you, why aren’t you happy? Y/N…C’mon, please, I promise I’m better now, I just miss you—” You hung up. That night was a bad one.

Looking back, maybe there were more bad memories than good. It wasn’t as if you were unbiased. But maybe the good outweighed the bad by importance. Duff had shaped your life, the foundation of who you were. When you thought of love, you thought of him, and gave up the concept.

Now, just barely entering your thirties, you found yourself surprised to be back in Seattle. Maybe deep down you were still chasing after the best time of your life. It probably wasn’t healthy to let your mind wander backwards, but it did, every time you took certain roads. Sometimes you avoided them, but most of the time, you drove down the tree-lined roads, remembering when it had been the two of you. Back to a time when you thought you hated the rain and couldn’t wait to get out of it; now rain brought you peace.

Life was much more peaceful now. You worked as a freelance writer and genuinely enjoyed the topics you wrote about, thankful not to have to write another Guns N’ Roses article. It wasn’t like there was much to write about anyways in that category; there were rumors the band was on the brink of breaking up. It was still lonely, but the pain had subsided. You were okay with being alone and you were smart enough to fill your time with meaningful activities.

You never lost contact with Duff’s family. His mom finally stopped trying to apologize. You did your best not to consume your waking hours following the band, trying your best to force yourself into moving on entirely. Duff had released a solo album, and though your heart still swelled with pride, you couldn’t listen to it. There were rumors a lot of the songs were about you.

Nowadays, the reminders of him were scarce. He looked to be in rough shape, but you did your best not to let it bother you; that wasn’t your battle. You stopped crying and you had developed your own routine. Routine was important. Your house was decorated the way you wanted it and you had a dog, an affectionate brown Labrador. Now, you considered this place home and had favorite spots and local shops you spent time at, and yes, some of them were places the two of you had once frequented, but the reminder didn’t hurt anymore. The hurt was still there, if you pulled everything back and looked down within, but mainly, there was an appreciation for what once had been. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It was clear that wasn’t the case when you left your favorite coffee shop one Sunday afternoon and spotted a familiar face across the parking lot. At first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you—his hair had been long for years. This man no longer looked puffy and fatigued like you had seen in pictures, he was leaner and had short spiky hair. More importantly though, his eyes were clear. That was when you were sure you must have been dreaming.

“Y/N?” He said, his voice unsteady, but somehow still sounded the same. Your coffee tumbled to the ground and he reached out too late. “Shit. Sorry, I...” he trailed off helplessly; you hadn’t even looked down at the spill once yet.

“Duff?” You asked, waiting for wake up from this weird dream. He stood a little bit back from you.

“You still come here, huh?” He asked after a moment, trying to smile. When you didn’t reply, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I heard you moved back. I didn’t really believe it at first, but I guess...I bought a house here too.” you didn’t reply still, no words could come out. He shoved his hands into his pockets and you could feel your eyes watering. “How have you been?”

“Good. Fine, yeah.” You replied quietly, somehow able to keep the moisture in your eyes. “I’m surprised your home and not on the road for your album.” Maybe you had paid more attention than you realized. He looked down.

“...Yeah. Um,” he chuckled uncomfortably. “I actually canceled a lot of the days earlier this year, I was exhausted. I thought maybe coming back home would be better for me...I...” he paused before he shook his head a little and let out a breath. “It’s been...a real eye opening few months.”

For a second, your heart pounded hopefully and you wondered desperately what that meant, before you told yourself to stop.

“To be honest, I’m in a hurry, so...I should probably get going.” Your tone was suddenly curt, sharp and brisk as the autumn air; the falling leaves behind you threatened to break your composed façade; it was all taking you back to a different time and you knew you needed to leave. Duff suddenly looked apologetic.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, uh...” he shrugged. “Um...I just. I know you’re busy and everything, but...maybe, just...” every time he met your eyes, he looked away again. You bit your lip hard.

“Yeah, I don’t have a lot of free time nowadays. I’m sure you get it.” You forced out. He nodded, looking down and backing away from your car.

“...Yeah. Well...take care.” He ended lamely. The longer you looked, the more it was apparent his eyes were actually clear. “And I just…I hope you know I’m sorry.” You swallowed hard and turned away without another word to get into your car and seal yourself away. Inside, you could finally let yourself crumble, feeling the mixture of a pounding heart and butterflies quickly crumbling and falling in your stomach, your hands shaking as you tried to get the key into the ignition.

Realizing in panic maybe you had made a mistake, you quickly turned your head to find him again, but only caught a brief glance of him before he entered the shop, and that’s when it caught your eye.

The red fabric around his neck, nestled into the leather jacket he had on.

Your old scarf, still there, the lasting image of you on him.

You weren’t the only one struggling with accepting the loss of the only real thing you had ever felt in your life, but it wasn’t enough to move you from your car. So you sat, engine idling, until finally tears that had started as a stream turned to just a few stray drops. But it took you longer than 5 minutes, longer than 10, to finally drive away.