#You ever take a month's “”vacation“” of drawing to instead draw one specific guy instead? Yeah I apologize. for the faustism. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ppangjae · 4 years

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Song for a Little Sparrow | Jaehyun

SUMMARY. As a burnt out painter, you packed one suitcase and flew a one-way trip to Paris in hopes of finding your passion again. In the city of love, the last thing you expected was to bump into a man who doesn’t believe in love. But you do, and you find yourself showing him the wonders of love and falling in love. Just don’t fall in love with him.

or: “How can you not believe in love and think it’s stupid when you’re in Paris, the city of love?”

WORD COUNT. 13.7k+ words (BIG OOF)

playlist. howl’s moving castle | song for a little sparrow by patricia kaas | loose by daniel caesar | we find love by daniel caesar

author’s note. yall she is finally here. oof. this is unedited, so please keep that in mind if you ever come across a typo! also, i just wanted to say thank you for 1k! happy reading~

“You’re going to regret doing this!”

But you don’t.

Your father’s voice echoes through your head as you’re stepping out on the balcony of your hotel room to get a good look of the Eiffel Tower that’s located a couple of blocks away. A soft, happy sigh escapes your lips as you bask in the sunlight that’s hitting your skin. You bring up your fresh mug of coffee to your lips to take a sip.

Your father thinks you’re many things, one of them being absolutely crazy. The look of sheer panic and shock on his face as you walked out of the house with nothing but one suitcase and a one-way plane ticket to Paris remains etched in your mind. You wish you could draw it out and frame it just to put it up in your room for inspiration. Now that you think about it, you are crazy. You’re crazy and impulsive. It’s not normal for you to pack your things and leave the city months after your successful art exhibition. What’s normal is that you should be sitting in your art room, painting on canvas for your next, upcoming art exhibition that everyone is waiting for. But the view of the Eiffel Tower and the atmosphere of love surrounding you is just too hard to resist. And no, you don’t regret doing this.

You might.

But you’ll worry about that later.

“Why are you calling me so early in the morning?”

You let out a snort. Jungwoo’s pixelated face appears on your screen when he flips to the front camera of his phone. “Good morning to you too.”

“Holy shit, why is it so bright?” He squints his eyes that are blinded by the sunrise that you’re showing him with your phone’s camera. It takes him two seconds to realize it. “Why the fuck are you in Paris?”

“Vacation.” You flash him an innocent smile. But it’s a smile he knows so well. “I’m here for vacation—”

“You and I both know that you are not in Paris for vacation.” He cuts you off.

“Fine. I’m burnt out.”

“But—”

“And bored,” you add, cutting him off. “Which is why I’m in Paris.”

“I wish I was rich enough to fly to Paris just because I felt bored.” He scoffs, sitting up in his bed. “Why did you call me again? Wait, does your father know that you’re in Paris?”

“Yes, he knows.” You answer his second question. As for his first question.. “I called you because I can’t choose which art museum I should go to.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? It’s three in the morning, Y/N—”

“The Louvre, Petit Palais, or Musée d’Orsay?”

He falls silent for a brief moment. You take this as a chance to take another sip of your coffee that’s run cold. You wince, placing your mug of coffee onto the patio table.

“The Louvre.”

“Nice choice.” You smile. “Musée d’Orsay it is.”

“I’m seriously going to kill you when you come back,” he lets out a string of curses. “Why’d you even ask me in the first place?”

“Sleep tight, love.”

He scoffs. He falls back against his bed. “Fuck you.”

And he hangs up without saying goodbye.

“Keep the change.”

The ticket vendor looks utterly speechless by his presence. He can tell by the way the coins clink together from the nervous shaking of her hands. She stares at him for a second longer before smiling sheepishly. She retreats her hand and places the coins back into the cash register.

“Enjoy your visit, Mr. Jeong.”

He gives her a timid smile before venturing off into the art museum. It’s normal to see people doing double-takes on him whenever he’s in the same room as them. He’s used to being distracted and losing his train of thought when someone lightly nudges him with a notepad and pen. But ever since he landed in Paris, he’s gotten a ton of looks and a ton of autograph requests from different people and he’s not sure what to feel or how to react.

He finds himself walking into Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s exhibition. The room is somewhat empty, with an old couple admiring the Dance at Bougival and a couple of teenagers taking pictures of the art. He spots a familiar painting at the far end of the room. He’s drawn to it with his feet having a mind of its own, leading him to the painting.

Dance in the Country. His eyes scan the picture. His eyes stop on the unidentified woman watching the couple dance from the background. She must have a story, he thinks to himself, before his thoughts are cut short when—

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but are you Jeong Jaehyun, by any chance?”

He tears his gaze from the painting to meet eyes with a young woman. She looks like a student. As he’s nodding his head, her eyes light up and she immediately rummages through her bag to pull out his best-selling book. Along with a copy of his book, she pulls out a permanent marker.

“I love your work!” She exclaims. “It’s such a huge coincidence bumping into you at an art museum. Wow. I can’t believe it.”

Adorable. He gives her a warm smile as he gently takes the book and marker from her small hands. He takes the cap off the marker with his teeth. While holding the cap in between his teeth, he makes his signature on the front cover of his book. The young woman looks up at him with admiration. Once he signs the book, he hands her the book and places the cap back onto the marker.

“Wow. Thank you so much! I won’t disturb you any longer.” She smiles. She looks starstruck. “I hope you enjoy your stay here in Paris and I look forward to your next book!”

He chuckles. “Thank you. It was nice to meet you.”

The young lady sends him a small wave before joining her group of friends. As she reaches up to them, they start teasing her for being such a shy baby. His face softens. He shifts his focus back to the painting in front of him. But as he’s turning to look back at the painting, he notices a figure standing beside him from the corner of his eye.

He glances to his left to see a woman who looks somewhat around his age. She’s wearing a long strap dress that flows all the way down to her ankles. Underneath the dress, she’s wearing a white t-shirt. Her long, wavy hair stops just a couple of inches below her shoulders with strands framing her face. He turns back to look at the painting.

“Why do you think there’s a woman hiding in the background of the painting?”

The voice makes you snap out of your gaze. You find yourself looking to your right to meet eyes with a handsome stranger. It takes you a couple of seconds for you to realize who’s standing right beside you. It’s Jeong Jaehyun, the best-selling poet. He’s looking back at you with an innocent gaze that you decide not to identify him as a poet whose work you admire and whose work you religiously read, but as a stranger.

You take one more look at the painting. Dance in the Country. You’ve always been intrigued by the artwork, specifically at the hidden woman watching the dancing couple in the background.

You purse your lips into a tight line. “I think she’s in love with him. That’s why she’s looking at them like that and remaining hidden.”

He folds his arms and tilts his head in confusion. “You think she’s in love with him?”

You’re still a bit taken aback that the Jeong Jaehyun is standing beside you in an art museum in Paris.

“Yes.” You simply answer his question.

He squints his eyes as he falls deep in thought. “I beg to differ.”

“You don’t think she’s in love with him?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t believe in love.”

What? Did you hear that right? “Sorry?”

“I don’t believe in love.” He repeats himself. “Actually, I think love is stupid—”

“Then why are you here?” You blurt out in shock. It comes out rudely and you expect him to feel insulted, but instead, he smirks at you. “How can you not believe in love and think love is stupid when you’re in Paris, the city of love?”

“You have a point. Why exactly am I here?” He thinks aloud.

You blink. What an odd guy. Is he really a poet? A best-selling poet? Is he really the man who wrote the books you’ve read?

“I’d love to hear you argument on how love isn’t real and how love is stupid.”

“I don’t think it needs an explanation.” He shrugs his shoulders. “It is what it is—”

“Damn, who hurt you?” You chuckle.

He has a grin playing across his lips. “If you believe in love so much, then why don’t you prove it to me?”

“How do I know that you’re not a murderer plotting my death?” You raise an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Wait, not to be cocky but,” his eyebrows furrow. “You don’t know who I am?”

You lie. “Should I know who you are?”

You know who he is. You know exactly who he is. He’s Jeong Jaehyun—

“Then that’s all the more reason as to why you should prove me wrong.” He grins. “Prove to me that love is real and that love isn’t stupid.”

“Fine.” You squint your eyes. You let out a huff of breath. “I will. I will prove you wrong, Mr. Stranger.”

He’s completely amused by you. In fact, he’s more amused at the fact that you’re trusting him so easily.

“Where shall we start?” He asks.

You scoff. His grin is immediately wiped off his face.

“Well, you’ve already started. You started the moment you got here, in Paris.”

“I have? Prove it to me.”

“Paris is the city of love! That’s more than enough of a reason as to why love exists and why love isn’t stupid.”

He squints his eyes at you before breaking out into a grin. “I think you’ll need more than that to prove me wrong.”

“I—”

“I’m Jaehyun.” He extends his hand out for you to shake. You raise an eyebrow at him, hesitating to shake his hand, but you do it anyway. His hands are soft. “And do you trust me enough to say that I’m not going to murder you but ask you to grab coffee with me instead?”

It takes you a couple of seconds to realize that you’re still shaking hands. You snap out of it, gently pulling your hand away from his. You fold your arms.

“I’m sure there’s got to be a catch.”

He tilts his head. “Well, you are going to prove to me that love is real and love isn’t stupid, right? Let me thank you in advance by getting you a cup of coffee.”

You smirk.

“Fine.”

“Great—”

“But you’re paying.”

This is going to be a long day.

“You didn’t introduce yourself to me, stranger.”

You find yourselves sitting out on a patio, waiting for your cups of coffee. You tear your gaze away from a couple taking a picture in front of the museum. Sitting right across from you, your eyes meet Jaehyun’s.

“I’m Y/N.” You chuckle. “Nothing special.”

He fiddles with the teaspoon on the table. “You don’t sound like you’re from here.”

You smile. “It’s because I’m not.”

“Vacation?”

You point at him. “Bingo.”

“Nice.” He nods his head.

Right on time, your orders arrive at the table. He ordered himself an iced Americano and you got yourself a cup of cappuccino. He takes a quick sip.

“You don’t sound like you’re from here either,” you add.

“It’s because I’m not.” He copies you.

“Vacation?”

The both of you share a look before bursting out into laughter. He points at you. “Bingo.”

There’s a sudden urge of curiosity that ignites within you. Why is the famous poet, Jeong Jaehyun, in Paris for vacation? Is he currently writing a book? Has he lost inspiration? Is that why he’s here in Paris, to reignite the inspiration he lost since his last published book?

There are a ton of questions running through your mind but it’s funny how if that is the case, you could say you’re in the same boat as him. Why are you in Paris for vacation? Are you currently working on your next exhibition? Did you lose inspiration? Is that why you’re here in Paris, to reignite the inspiration you lost since your last successful art exhibit?

There’s a reason why you bought yourself a one-way plane ticket to Paris with no intentions of flying back for a couple of weeks. You’re in Paris because you lost inspiration and not because you’re working on your next exhibition. After your last art exhibit, you found yourself spiralling into a mess and meeting a familiar friend you didn’t plan on reuniting with; artist’s block.

It was like you suddenly forgot how to pick up a paintbrush.

And that in of itself, is a huge nightmare you wish would never become the end of your career that had just started.

“What do you do for a living?” He asks. You look at him until he clears his throat. “You don’t need to answer if you don’t want to—”

“I’m a painter,” you reply. You smirk. “What kind of question is that? Are we out on a blind date or something? I don’t remember meeting you on Tinder.”

He folds his arms and leans against his chair. “You’re a painter? Like, you paint on canvas?”

“I was expecting more of an enthusiastic reaction or even better, a look of surprise.” You pout. You let out a sigh. “But yes, sorry to disappoint, I’m a painter. I pick up a paintbrush and I make strokes on canvas. That’s what I do for a living.”

He grabs his iced Americano to take another sip before slamming it down onto the table. “I’m sure you’re very talented. You should show me a couple of your paintings. Even better, why don’t you paint me like—”

“Like one of my French girls?” You cut him off.

“You probably get that a lot, huh?”

“I get that a shit ton of times that I am this close to throwing up.”

He chuckles. “God, I feel like throwing up whenever I see a couple out on the street. Like those two over there.”

You follow his line of sight. It falls upon the same couple who are still taking pictures in front of the museum. How long does it take to get a decent picture? You look back at Jaehyun.

“They’re in love. Leave them alone.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely leave them alone.” He huffs out a breath.

“Stop being such a con artist, I’m sure you’ve been in love before.”

“I have—”

“And it was a nice feeling, right?”

“It was more so disappointing.”

Jaehyun looks at you as you suddenly clasp your hands together. The sudden movement slightly shakes the table, causing some of your drink to spill out of the mug. His eyebrows raise. You look at him with bright eyes and you beam.

“I have an idea.”

“What’s your idea?”

You smile. “I know how to prove you wrong.”

“And how are you going to prove me wrong, Y/N?”

“How long are you going to be here for?” You question.

He folds his arms. “Two weeks. I’m flying back home in two weeks.”

“Perfect!” You exclaim. “Two weeks is all I need.”

“What tricks are you hiding up your sleeve?”

“I’m going to take you out on dates for two weeks.” You explain your plan that you’ve suddenly come up with on the spot. “And on those dates, I’ll prove to you that love exists.”

“And you expect this to work?”

You nod your head. “One hundred percent.”

“How do you know for sure?” He squints his eyes at you.

“If you don’t feel some sort of way after going out on dates with me, then love isn’t real. But if you do feel some sort of way, then love is real.” You explain.

“So, basically, if I fall in love with you, love is real. But if I don’t fall in love with you, then love isn’t real?”

“Perfect!” You exclaim.

“So, your goal is to make me fall in love with you?” He laughs.

“Yes, but at the same time, no.” You try to make things clear.

“Is that even possible?”

“It’s possible!”

He looks at you as if you’ve gone insane. He’s slowly starting to regret striking up a conversation with you at the museum. He’s slowly starting to regret taking you out for a cup of coffee. He’s slowly starting to regret arguing that love isn’t real and that love is stupid—

You smile.

“It’s possible. Just don’t fall in love with me.”

“It’s seven in the morning—”

“I know.”

It is seven in the morning when Jaehyun is bombarded with new text notifications, urging him to get out of bed. He almost mistakenly picks up his pocket journal instead of his phone that’s dinging every two seconds. Scattered across the marble floors of his luxury hotel are crumpled up pieces of paper with horrible drafts of his poetry. He should probably clean that up before the housekeepers come in to vacuum the space.

“You’re really persistent on proving me wrong, huh?”

He can hear you grinning on the other line of the phone call. “I smell victory already. Now, get your ass out of bed. We’re going out on your first date.”

“We’re already going out on my first date?” Jaehyun smirks. “Shouldn’t we get to know each other first?”

You deadpan, rolling on the balls of your feet as you wait for the bus to arrive. There are two things you learned about Jeong Jaehyun for the past twenty-four hours you’ve encountered him. Flirty. You’re not sure if being a poet means you’re automatically a hopeless romantic or someone who’s incredibly great at flirting, but just by his eyes and the way he interacts with people show how flirty he can be. Charming. Jeong Jaehyun has an aura that he carries around with him whenever he’s out in public. He has a unique charm that draws people to him like a magnet. You consider yourself one of those people, now that you’re waiting for a bus that leads you to the address of his hotel.

“You know my name, isn’t that already enough?”

“How do I know that you’re not a murderer plotting my death?” He copies you and it makes you let out a scowl.

“If I was a murderer, I would’ve had you murdered by now.” He giggles and you find yourself smiling.

“What should I wear to this date, Y/N?” He teases.

The bus arrives. It takes you a couple of seconds to answer his question. You finally get the chance to answer his question when you take a seat next to the window. “You should wear something comfortable.”

“Like pajamas?”

“Alright, not too comfortable.” You laugh.

“Are you on the way? Are you picking me up in a luxury car?” He opens the closet to skim through his limited amount of clothing that he brought with him. His hands stop when they reach a loose white t-shirt. He takes it off the hanger along with a pair of jeans and a leather belt.

“What do you take me for? A millionaire?”

“More like a billionaire.”

“Shut up.”

Half an hour later, you find yourself standing in front of Hôtel de Crillon. You’re staring at the luxury hotel with your mouth slightly hanging open in awe. As a bus drives past you, your eyes trail down towards the entrance and your eyes meet with a familiar pair.

“Hello there,” you flash him a warm smile.

He shoves his hands into his pockets. He tilts his head at you. “Are you not going to compliment how good I look in my outfit?”

You’re rolling your eyes for the nth time. “You look great—”

“Great but not handsome?”

You frown. “Don’t push it.”

The closer he gets to you, the more nervous you get. You’re not sure why you’re the one feeling nervous when he should be the one feeling jittery. As he approaches you, he boldly throws an arm over your shoulder. He looks down at you. As you slowly look up to meet his gaze, you find your heart skipping a beat too many. He doesn’t look great, he looks charming—

“You look beautiful on this fine day, Y/N. Shall we get going to our date location?”

“How romantic. For a first date, that is.”

Jaehyun peers up at the view in front of him until his trance is disrupted by a little girl on a bike that zooms past him. A soft smile spreads across his lips as he scans the area. The Luxembourg Palace stands right in front of him along with a fountain filled with scattered play boats for kids and a wide grass field that’s perfect for picnic dates.

“Do you like it?”

He glances at you. “I love it.”

“Great!” You exclaim. “We should probably find a spot underneath a tree to have our small picnic.”

He looks down at the medium-sized bag slung over your shoulder. He feels slightly guilty for letting you carry around what seems like a heavy bag on the trip to the garden. “I was wondering why you brought that bag with you.”

You look up at him with bright eyes. It blinds him. “Well, now you know.”

As the both of you are walking across the grass field to sit underneath a tree, you are stopped by a man around your age. He’s holding a film camera in one hand and his phone in the other. You look at him for a brief moment before your eyes land on a beautiful woman sitting on a picnic blanket behind him.

“Excuse me,” the man hesitantly says, making Jaehyun stop in his tracks. Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow questioningly, prompting the man to continue. “Do you mind taking a picture of my girlfriend and I? I have a film camera and my phone. I’ll teach you how to use the film camera.”

Jaehyun turns to look at you as if he’s asking you for permission. “I—”

“Sure!” You exclaim, letting out a soft giggle.

“Oh, thank you so much.” You both hear a shy voice say from behind the man. The woman whom you now identify as the man’s girlfriend, gives you both a shy wave before her cheeks flush pink.

“Do you want photos taken on both the film camera and the phone?” You question.

The man nods his head. “Yes, please. Do you know how to operate the film camera?”

“Fortunately, I do.” You chuckle, gesturing the both of them to get ready for the picture.

Jaehyun’s awkwardly standing next to you, watching you interact with the couple. He’s never felt so awkward in his entire life. He finds himself looking at you as you’re taking a photo of the couple with the phone first.

“Alright, get comfortable with each other. Yes! That’s perfect!” You say with a warm smile. Jaehyun diverts his gaze towards the couple. They’re sitting next to each other with the man’s arm thrown over his girlfriend’s shoulder. “Alright, one, two, three, smile!”

On the count of three, the woman sneakily pecks her boyfriend’s cheek. He’s caught off guard with his eyes slightly widening in surprise. You let out a giggle as it’s all caught on camera. Jaehyun slowly feels entertained by what’s happening right in front of him.

“I’ll take one more picture for good measure,” you insist. The couple smiles and you take another picture on the phone before switching to the film camera. “Alright, I’m switching to this camera now.”

Jaehyun watches the couple get ready to pose for the next picture. They’re both looking at each other with gazes that Jaehyun just can’t seem to explain. He’s never had someone look at him like that, where someone would look at him with eyes full of love and admiration. There’s a small space in his heart that hopes he could experience something like this, if not, something similar.

“Alright, one, two, three!” You take the picture on the film camera. “Wow, I think these are going to turn out beautifully. The two of you are such a beautiful couple.”

The man gets up to get his phone and film camera from you. “Oh, thank you so much.”

“How long have you guys been together?” Jaehyun finds himself asking out of nowhere.

You look at him, surprised that he’s interested in their relationship. The man looks at his girlfriend and smiles. “We’ve been together for a year and two months.”

“Wow, so you guys just celebrated your first anniversary together?” You question and they both flush a bright red. They nod their heads. “You’re a lovely couple. I hope you guys stay together! You both look deeply in love with each other.”

“I hope so, too.” The man says softly. He looks down at his phone. “Would you like me to take a picture of the two of you lovebirds?”

You and Jaehyun glance at each other. You’re the first one to tear your gaze away from him. “I—There’s no need to, we wouldn’t want to bother you—”

“You’re not bothering us at all! We can take a picture for you, just as a thank you for taking time out of your date to take a picture of us.” The woman reassures you.

It’s your turn to look at Jaehyun as if you’re asking him for permission. You can’t seem to read his expression and so you look back at the man. “I think we’ll be okay, thank you for the offer, though—”

“We’d love to!” Jaehyun cuts you off and you look at him with surprise.

You’re not sure what to say or do but Jaehyun’s already pulling out his phone and handing it to the man. As the man is preparing to take the picture, you and Jaehyun awkwardly stand next to each other. It’s evident that the both of you are either acquaintances, friends, or a new couple who are still awkward with each other. There’s no in between.

“Alright, I’m taking a picture on three.” The man reminds you.

One, Jaehyun looks down at you. You’re fiddling with your fingers. He can tell there are gears turning in your head. Meanwhile, you’re too busy staring straight ahead, not sure if you should lean closer to Jaehyun or if you’re standing from the right distance. Should you tilt your head towards him? No, that would look awkward.

Two, Jaehyun feels his arm itch. He’s not sure if he should wrap his arm around your waist or over your shoulder. But as the man is counting to three to take the picture, he can’t help but notice how three seconds seems like three painfully long minutes.

Three, Jaehyun does it. He throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you close to him. You’re caught off guard. As he pulls you close, you find yourself bumping into his side. Your eyes are widened with surprise. The man and his girlfriend let out a squeal.

As the man is handing back Jaehyun his phone, he grins at the both of you. “How long have you guys been together?”

Jaehyun clears his throat. The both of you share a look before he breaks out into a smirk.

“We’ve actually just started dating.”

“What you did today was impressive.”

You and Jaehyun are strolling down the streets of Paris after spending most of your day at Luxembourg Gardens. Montmartre just seems more romantic in the evening with all the fairy lights lit up and with the endless photo ops perfect for couples. Although your first date with Jaehyun is almost over, there’s something within you that wishes that the date would be longer. Little did you know that Jaehyun wishes the same thing too.

You find yourselves standing in front of an ice cream parlour. The both of you share a look.

“Wanna go grab some ice cream before I drop you off at your hotel?” Jaehyun insists.

You smile. “I’d love that.”

And so the both of you step inside the ice cream parlour. There’s a large menu filled with a variety of ice cream flavours. Although there are many new and unique flavours to choose from, your eyes light up at the sight of your favourite flavour.

“What can I get for the lovely couple?”

You both glance at the ice cream vendor before replying in unison, “Pistachio, please.”

Jaehyun looks at you with surprise. You look unfazed as you’re digging through your purse to pay for the both of you. He’s not sure why his heart skips a beat just by the fact that the both of you love pistachio ice cream. It’s almost as if you both had a telepathic moment.

“Let me pay—”

You stop him from pulling out his wallet. Your hand is placed over his and he feels the sudden urge to hold your hand. “I’ll pay. I already have my cash out.”

“But—”

“Jaehyun.”

He raises his hands up in defense. “Fine, if you say so.”

The both of you step out of the ice cream parlour with two scoops of pistachio ice cream on a cone. You’re busy gushing over how delicious it is while Jaehyun stops in his tracks at the sight of a huge billboard sitting on top of a building. You haven’t noticed Jaehyun’s sudden absence beside you until you’re about to ask him what he thinks of the ice cream.

“Jaehyun—Jaehyun?”

Jaehyun’s eyes are fixated on the large billboard. You follow his gaze which lands on a billboard of an advertisement. It’s an advertisement for a ballet show. Your mouth opens slightly agape at the sight of a beautiful ballet dancer on the billboard. You tear your gaze from the billboard to look at him.

You’ve seen that look before. It’s a look where there are stars shining in your eyes, where your smile is soft yet sincere, where you look like a fool… a hopeless fool.

“I think I know where to take you for our second date.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Where?”

He points up at the billboard. “Tomorrow night. You and me. I’ll pay for the tickets. I hope you like ballet.”

You fold your arms before pointing at the billboard, specifically at the ballet dancer. “You find her really pretty, don’t you? You have a crush on her, don’t you?”

He blows a raspberry. “I don’t—”

“You do.” You let out a soft gasp.

He gives you a look. “I don’t—”

“Your ice cream is melting.”

You’re handing him a napkin to wipe the ice cream that’s melted down the side of his hand. As he’s wiping the ice cream, he lets out a sigh. “I don’t.”

You shrug your shoulders. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did. I’d honestly have a crush on her too. Besides, it’s not bad to have crushes. Having crushes are normal.”

“Define crush.”

As you’re coming up with your own definition of crush, you find yourselves arriving in front of your hotel. You frown. “Let’s save that conversation for another date.”

He nods his head at the door. “You should get going. I should also get going, Y/N. It was a long day. I enjoyed spending it with you.”

A smile slowly starts to spread across your lips. “Me too. Text me when you get to your hotel safely!”

He waves at you before starting to walk away. You’re just about to step inside the hotel building until you have the sudden urge to—

“Jaehyun!”

He slows down and turns around to look at you. “Yeah?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

What was a small smile on his face turned into a bright one. He’s beaming at you before nodding his head. You swear you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Oh boy, this isn’t good.

This isn’t good at all.

And you do see him.

In fact, you see him waiting for you outside of the Théâtre du Châtelet with tickets in his hands. You hand the taxi driver your cash payment and tell him to keep the change before you hop out. As you hop out of the car, your eyes meet his and his blank face transforms into a look of familiarity.

“Hey, you.” You smile.

“Hey,” he returns a smile. “Shall we head inside? The show is going to start in about fifteen minutes.”

The show starts just a couple of minutes after the both of you get settled in your seats. The lights turn off before they start flickering on and off. As the lights turn on, they focus on a ballet dancer that starts to dance across the stage. She looks beautiful, she looks familiar, she’s the ballet dancer—

“Sunjung.” You hear Jaehyun whisper underneath his breath.

You glance at him. He has that same look on his face from yesterday. There are stars shining in his eyes. His smile is soft… yet sincere. He looks like a hopeless fool. That look means one thing.

He’s in love with her. You know that look all too well. He looks at her as if she’s his entire world. He looks at her with such admiration that it makes your heart ache. You’re not sure if your heart is aching for him or for you.

You look away from him just before your stare ponders longer than it should. On stage, a male ballet dancer joins her and the song changes to—

“Song for the little sparrow,” you say softly, a gasp getting caught in your throat.

You and Jaehyun meet eyes.

It was all starting to make sense to you. You can read Jaehyun like a book, from front to back.

The reason why Jeong Jaehyun is in Paris is because he’s chasing after the woman he’s in love with, who so happens to be a woman named Sunjung. Jeong Jaehyun is not here for vacation, he’s here because of her. But the more you look at Sunjung and her partner that dances with her on stage, the more you focus on the loving gaze she gives her partner. Sunjung isn’t in love with Jaehyun. Jaehyun flew all the way to Paris to chase after a woman he’s in love with, who happens to be in love with someone else.

And you’re just someone he randomly chose to accompany him on this journey. You’re just someone he randomly chose to be there for him when he faces the one thing he knows he’ll regret experiencing; rejection.

And you’ve never felt heartbroken for someone your entire life.

“Jaehyun! I can’t believe you’re here!”

If you thought she looked beautiful on stage, she looked perfect up close. Sunjung pulls Jaehyun in for an embrace before pulling away to look at you. You flash her a small smile. Sunjung’s dance partner, extends his hand out for Jaehyun to shake.

“This is Seonghwa,” Sunjung introduces her partner. Her partner looks just as charming as she is. He looks incredibly tall while standing next to her. “He’s my dance partner that I’ve been telling you all about.”

Jaehyun smiles. When you look at him, you can tell that he’s hurting on the inside. “I’m glad I can finally put a name to your face, Seonghwa. Congratulations to the both of you, the show was amazing.”

You gently nudge Jaehyun. He looks at you questioningly. “Introduce me.”

“Ah,” Jaehyun mumbles sheepishly. “This is Y/N, a friend of mine.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Sunjung beams at you. “I hope you enjoyed the show. I was wondering why Jaehyun brought a beautiful lady along with him.”

“The show was beautiful,” you say as you let out a breath.

Seonghwa’s eyes dart between the two of you. “Are you guys dating or something?”

You and Jaehyun look at each other. Jaehyun fakes a cough, shaking his head. “No, we’re not dating. We’re just friends.”

Ouch. Why did that hurt? You didn’t think it would hurt.

Sunjung stares at the both of you. She pouts. “I was hoping you guys were dating. You guys look adorable together! I honestly thought you were going to introduce me to your new girlfriend, Jaehyun.”

Ouch. Was that supposed to hurt too?

You let out an uneasy laugh. “Sorry to disappoint. We’re just friends. Right, Jaehyun?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer. You look up at him and the smile on your face is wiped off.

He looks heartbroken. He looks at her with a longing gaze. It’s a look with many unsaid words. He breaks out into a small smile that doesn’t reach his ears. He blinks and bites his lip. You’ve never experienced rejection, but after seeing him get indirectly rejected, you feel like you’ve experienced it too. There’s a sudden urge to hug him, comfort him, reassure him that things will turn out fine. But you’re not sure how because you don’t think you’re in the right place to do so. You’re sure him and Sunjung have a long, memorable history of friendship that’s irreplaceable. And so you stay silent.

And in the midst of your silence, you swear you can hear his heart shattering into pieces.

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Right. We’re just friends.”

Ever since the both of you left the theatre, you haven’t spoken a single word to each other. You’re trying to find the right words to say to him, but you don’t know him enough to know the right way of comforting him. You’re sure he has a lot of things on his mind, specifically about Sunjung.

All you could do is look at him with a waiting gaze, as if you’re expecting some sort of explanation. He doesn’t say anything and you respect it by continuing to walk back to your hotel in silence.

When you’re a couple of metres away from your hotel, he lets out a sigh. “Sunjung’s a long-time friend of mine.”

You slowly nod your head. “I kind of figured you’ve been friends for a long time.”

He looks quite heartbroken just by the mention of her name. You wonder what happened between the two of them, but at the same time, you didn’t want to force him into talking about something he’s uncomfortable with. He gestures towards your hotel. “We’re here. You should head inside before it gets chilly outside. Good night, Y/N.”

He takes your silence as his cue to leave. As he’s walking away, you can’t seem to stop yourself from saying, “You’re in love with her.”

He stops in his tracks. He looks over his shoulder.

You repeat yourself. “You’re in love with Sunjung.”

He shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs his shoulders. “How would you know that? I don’t believe in love. Love is stupid. Love doesn’t exist.”

“Your eyes don’t seem to know how to lie, Jaehyun.”

His head hangs low. “You got me. I’m stupidly in love with my best friend. Unfortunately.”

“If you’re in love with her,” you begin with your eyebrows furrowing. “Why don’t you believe in love?”

He smiles.

“Let’s save that conversation for another date.”

The next time you see Jaehyun, it’s a Sunday evening. He has one more week left before he flies back home. It’s been three days since you last saw him in his heartbroken state. You figured he took three days off to recollect his thoughts and to let the fact that he had just gotten friendzoned by his best friend sink in.

But the next time you see Jaehyun, it’s a Sunday evening and he looks much better. You see him standing outside of your hotel building from your balcony. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, as if he had just woken up from a nap and decided to pay you a visit.

“Let’s go out on our third date.”

And you do. You find yourself putting on a hoodie the same colour as his before heading downstairs to meet up with him. When you meet up with him, you can’t help but notice how happier he looks. His smile looks genuine.

“Hey, you.”

He chuckles. “Let’s get going before the sun sets.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Champ de Mars.” He shrugs his shoulders.

You pout. “I was expecting you to tell me it was a surprise.”

“Disappointed?”

You find yourself interlocking arms with him before laughing. “Just a little.”

When you arrive, Jaehyun finds the perfect spot with the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower in front of you. He lays out a blanket for the both of you to sit on and pulls out the takeout trays of food from the paper bag. You’re too busy taking pictures of the Eiffel Tower to notice that everything’s already set up. You glance down to find him already sitting down. He pats the empty spot beside him and you take a seat.

After taking a couple more pictures, you place your phone back into your pocket. He throws his arm over your shoulder and you look at him with surprise. “Jaehyun?”

He looks back at you. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

The both of you are staring at each other until he takes his arm off your shoulder. He scratches the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry.”

You let out a snort. “I’m just kidding.”

He wraps his arm around your waist instead, catching you off guard. But you pay no attention to it.

There’s something about you that he admires. It must be the fact that you understand him. It must be the fact that you can read his mind. It must be the fact that you’re not diving into his love life or being too nosey about his feelings for Sunjung and deciding to let him explain everything when he’s comfortable. But it could also be because you look beautiful sitting next to him like this. It could also be the fact that you willingly took a risk and spent your time with him, a complete stranger.

“I’m in love with Sunjung.” He begins.

You look up at him. “Are we having that conversation now?”

He laughs. “Can we?”

“We can, if you’re comfortable with that.” You purse your lips into a tight line.

“Sunjung and I are best friends. We’ve been best friends for the longest time. In fact, I’ve been her best friend that’s been chasing after her for as long as I can remember.” He explains. “But she’s in love with someone else.”

“Is that why you don’t believe in love?” You ask.

He slowly nods his head. “I guess it’s the fear of rejection that makes me believe that love doesn’t exist.”

“But if love doesn’t exist, then rejection shouldn’t exist either.” You had a point. “Being in love with someone could make you the happiest person on the entire planet, but it could also ruin you through rejection.”

“You have a point.” He sighs. “I flew all the way to Paris just to chase after her. The more I try to chase after her and the more I try to make her mine, the more I start to believe that I know nothing about love and that it doesn’t exist.”

“Really?” You ask.

“Really.” He mumbles. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Now that I’m hearing this, I think I’m starting to believe that if there was one person who believes in love with all his heart, it would be you.” You answer. “You’re just being swayed by the fact that the woman you’re in love with doesn’t love you back. Rejection is the only reason why you don’t believe in love. But I think you should embrace rejection because it’ll only make you a better person. In fact, rejection will make you a person who anticipates the next opportunity to fall in love again, but with another person.”

“Do you think so?” He whispers.

You raise an eyebrow. “About what?”

“Do you think I’ll ever fall in love again, after Sunjung?” He asks.

You place your hand on top of his before nodding your head.

“Love happens with the right person at the right time. I’m more than sure that you’ll fall in love again, you just have to allow your heart to do it.”

Jaehyun falls against his bed and lets out a sigh. He’s looking up at the ceiling of his room. Suddenly, he pulls out his phone and goes through his photos. He starts swiping for a particular picture until he finds it. A smile begins to spread across his lips. It’s the photo of you and him at Luxembourg Gardens. He has his arm wrapped around you and you’re looking at the camera with slightly widened eyes. Your cheeks heat up while his ears redden.

“Hey, Jaehyun?”

He hears you call out his name after he dropped you off at your hotel room. He’s waiting for the elevator to arrive. He looks at you. You’re poking your head through the door. “Yeah?”

You bite back a smile that threatens to form on your lips. “I just wanted to let you know that if it weren’t for Sunjung and your feelings for her, I’d definitely fall in love with you. Sunjung is clearly missing out on someone she doesn’t deserve.”

The elevator arrives and he’s too distracted by your words to even notice the elevator doors opening. He scratches the back of his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. Goodnight.”

You smile. “Goodnight, Jaehyun.”

Before he steps into the elevator, he tries to talk to you before you close the door. “Hey, Y/N?”

You look at him questioningly. “Yeah?”

“I just wanted to let you know that if I wasn’t in love with Sunjung, I’d definitely fall in love with you too.”

Five days left until Jaehyun flies back to Seoul. He has five days left to spend with you. It’s funny how he’s deciding to spend those five days with you and not with Sunjung. But it’s not like he really had a choice because you’d always insist on going out on another date.

“Golden hour?”

You’re grabbing his hand and running down the sidewalks of Paris. He looks down at your hands. You’re too busy looking down at your phone for the map directions to even notice that you absent-mindedly grabbed his hand. “Yes! Golden hour! Apparently, the best time to do it is during golden hour!”

“Where are we going?” He questions.

“The Seine!”

He pouts. “I was kind of expecting you to say that it’ll be a surprise.”

You laugh and it’s such a beautiful sound to his ears. You look at him from over your shoulder. “Disappointed?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all.”

Ever since you made what seems like a subtle love confession to Jaehyun last night, you couldn’t help but notice a huge weight being lifted off your shoulders. The image of his warm smile when he heard your words remains etched in your mind. You know that this won’t end how you want it to be, but you’re fine with it. You’d rather let your heart fall in love than cage it up with huge walls. Besides, you’re in the city of love, why would you hold yourself back?

It takes half an hour for the both of you to arrive at the Seine. There’s a ton of couples gathered at the Seine, most of them lining up at the booth to pick up their tickets. Luckily for you, you had booked your tickets in advance. You’re just about to tell Jaehyun something until you catch him looking at the river in awe. The sun is starting to set, making everything more romantic.

“Wow.” He breathes out.

You smile proudly. “I know. Let’s lineup so we can get a good spot on the cruise.”

The cruise occurs every hour during its busiest times. You and Jaehyun decide to stick around on the lower level of the boat. As the boat is starting to move across the river, you find yourself taking a seat on one of the benches.

“This is amazing,” he says softly.

“I did a pretty good job with this, don’t you think?” He nods his head.

He gets up from the bench and walks towards the railings. You’re too busy staring at his back profile, admiring the view right in front of you. His skin is glowing from the sun that’s shining down on him. Your mind finds itself taking a picture. You’re smiling brightly.

As you join him, you place your hands on the railings. He turns to you. “Hey, you never told me how long you’ll be here for.”

You glance at him. “Because I myself, don’t know how long I’ll be here for.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” you sigh. “Let’s just say I packed my things and bought a one-way ticket to Paris. I decided that when I feel like I’m ready to fly back home, then I’ll buy my plane ticket.”

“This might come off rude but I’m just curious,” he chuckles. “Are you really here in Paris for vacation?”

You smile and shake your head. “I’m not. I flew to Paris to escape.”

“Escape from what?”

“From my reality.” You answer. “Well, I’m more so escaping from my father. Just like my father, I’m a painter. He has high expectations of me and it’s extremely difficult to live up to his standards.”

“I’m sure your work is amazing, though.” He mumbles.

You giggle. “My last art exhibit was a huge success. But I didn’t expect getting burnt out a couple of months later. It was like I forgot how to pick up a paintbrush. I decided I needed to take a break. My father wasn’t happy to hear that.”

“And so you flew out to Paris?”

You point at him. “Bingo. I packed a suitcase and I told him I was flying out to Paris. I will never forget the look on his face. It was priceless. I’m sure I’ll be in huge trouble when I fly back.”

“Are you ready to fly back, though?” He asks.

It takes a while for you to come up with an answer. But when you do, you find yourself nodding.

“I think I’m ready. I was bound to go back home, anyways.”

This is the downside of meeting someone in a country you don’t live in. It’s all fun and games when meeting someone new, but the worst is knowing the fact that the both of you will eventually separate, where one will have to go back home and the other is left behind.

But in this case, you met someone in Paris who doesn’t live in Paris. You fell in love with Paris and the stranger you befriended. It’ll be all fun and games until you both realize that you’ll eventually separate, where the both of you go back home.

And you guess you both realized that now.

Three more days until Jaehyun flies back home. Three more days to spend with you. You both find yourselves spending an afternoon at the Sainte-Chapelle. Underneath the stained glass, you both stand next to each other with your shoulders brushing against each other.

You steal a glance at Jaehyun.

You’re in love with him. You’ve fallen in love with him. But you know he’s in love with someone else. And that’s okay. It was bound to happen anyways. But even though you knew it was bound to happen, it still hurt. Just a little bit.

He catches you staring at him and he smirks. “Why are you staring at me?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

“I want to get married here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

He hums in reply. “Really.”

You chuckle. “Am I invited to your wedding?”

There’s a part of him that wishes you didn’t ask such a question. He swore he imagined seeing you walk down the aisle, not as his guest sitting in the congregation. The thought of it terrifies him.

“Of course.” He chuckles. “You’re an honorary guest.”

You find yourself smiling. “That sounds nice to hear.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh. It catches you off guard. As you look up at him questioningly, you watch his shoulders slump. “I wish I fell in love with you instead. I wish I met you before Sunjung. Maybe things would have turned different.”

You tear your gaze away from him. “Things would have definitely turned out differently.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

It all feels bittersweet. “How so?”

“Because if you fell in love with me instead and if you had met me before Sunjung, I would have fallen in love with you in a heartbeat, just like how I’ve fallen in love with you now.”

Two days before Jaehyun flies back home. Little did he know you had already packed your things. You’re ready to fly back home. You think it’s time to go back home. But you knew that you couldn’t just leave him without a farewell. With your flight near midnight, you decide to spend your last day in Paris with him.

You spend the afternoon at Pont des Arts. Along the bridge are an endless amount of locks on its railings. It’s weird how you’re both holding hands like a couple.

“Where do you think we can get a lock?”

You snort. “Are you trying to be cheesy? Why do we need a lock?”

He gestures towards the locks on the railings of the bridge. “So that we can do this together.”

“But we’re not dating,” you remind him.

“But you’re in love with me.” He says softly and you roll your eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“We don’t need to do this. The person you should be doing this with is Sunjung.”

“Can we just forget about Sunjung for today?” He asks. “We’re getting a lock.”

And you both do. The lock comes with two keys, one for you and the other for him. You’re both standing near the railings, trying to find an empty spot to put the lock on. Everything feels like a mixture of bittersweetness and cheesiness, but you both do it anyway.

“Couples usually write their initials on the lock, put it on the railing, and then throw the keys to the lock into the water.” Jaehyun explains.

You snort. “Funny how you told me how you didn’t believe in love when we first met and yet here you are, telling me all about a romantic practice couples usually do.”

The lock is secured in its place. He looks at you as he prepares to throw his key into the water. He chucks the key out into the water and turns towards you as he waits for you to throw yours in. You don’t. He looks at you confusedly.

“Why aren’t you throwing yours into the water?”

“I think I should be asking you why you threw yours into the water, sir.” You fold your arms.

“Love happens with the right person at the right time.” He recalls what you had said to him one night. “I threw mine into the water because I know that love will happen when I meet you again at the right time. I’ll just have to allow my heart to do it.”

You flash him a sad smile. “I can’t wait until that time comes.”

“Me too.”

You look towards the water before throwing your key.

Someday.

That time will come.

Someday.

“Hey, Jaehyun?”

“Yeah?”

You hesitate. “I’m flying home tonight.”

His smile vanishes from his face. “Tonight?”

You nod. “Tonight.”

He avoids your gaze. “We should probably get you back to your hotel, then, huh?”

As much as you hate telling him, you knew that he had to know. He doesn’t look upset, surprisingly. It’s probably because he knew that things would end like this. It was expected. He just didn’t expect it to happen sooner than he thought.

When you arrive at your hotel, the sun has already set. Jaehyun helps you with your suitcases as you bring it down to the hotel lobby. As your taxi arrives, he helps you put your things into the trunk of the car. When everything’s set to go, the both of you stand there awkwardly, looking at each other.

“I guess this is it.”

“Yeah.” You say softly.

“You have my number, right?” He asks.

You nod. “I do. Nothing to worry.”

“Text me when you land.” He says.

“I will,” you reassure him. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

“I’ll try.” He chuckles.

Jaehyun doesn’t know what came over him but he can’t seem to stop himself from grabbing your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss. You’re caught off guard with your eyes widening in shock. His lips feel soft and plump, so irresistible that you pull him closer. He deepens the kiss and you swore you felt his tongue lightly graze yours. Your heart wants it to last longer but you will yourself to pull away.

You bite your lip. “Uh—I’ll see you around?”

He looks just as surprised as you are. “I’ll—yeah, I’ll see you around.”

You give him a timid wave before hopping into the car. As you buckle in your seat, you roll down the windows to see Jaehyun still standing there, waiting to send you off. “Jaehyun?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you and Sunjung end up together. You deserve to be loved.”

And he looks at you with a look you can’t seem to read. You roll the windows back up and the car starts to drive off. You turn around to see Jaehyun waving at you. You wave back, mustering up a smile. When Jaehyun’s figure gets smaller and smaller, you turn back around to face the front. You bite back a sob.

You knew it would hurt.

You knew it would end this way.

But you still allowed yourself to get hurt.

“Ma’am?” You snap out of your thoughts.

The taxi driver is offering you a box of Kleenex tissues. “Yes?”

“It looks like you need it.”

And you sure did.

“Welcome home—”

Your father cuts himself off when he hears you slam your bedroom door shut. He frowns, glancing at your suitcase that you lazily left by the door. He walks towards your suitcases to bring them into the living room until he spots your plane ticket.

He slowly picks it up. “Paris? Of all places, why Paris?”

The longer he stares at it, the more he starts to put things together.

Five months later…

BREAKING NEWS: Best-selling poet, Jeong Jaehyun, officially engaged to long-time friend and ballet dancer, Kim Sunjung

You wish it was a joke.

But it isn’t.

“Holy shit, you look like a fucking mess.”

“I know.”

Jungwoo stands at the door with a bag filled with canned beer. When you had called him to come over for a beer night, he didn’t expect to show up to see a brokenhearted friend moping in front of a TV screen. He takes a seat next to you on the couch and starts to take out the cans of beer. He’s placing them onto the coffee table, taking a look at you every now and then to make sure you’re doing alright. But you’re clearly not. You’re not alright.

“So, when were you planning on telling me that you fell in love with a stranger in Paris?”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Was it that obvious?”

“What? That you fell in love in Paris?” He asks. You hum in reply. “Well, while you were in Paris, I was expecting you to call me during your vacation but you didn’t. I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, what did you want me to expect?”

“Never fall in love, especially in Paris.” You sigh, wiping your tears. You grab a can of beer and pry it open. You take your first sip of the night before wincing.

He points at the screen. “You do have extremely good taste, though. Jeong Jaehyun? The flavour is incredibly immaculate.”

“I should probably get my mind off of it,” you whisper. “Or should I say, get my mind off of him.”

He snorts. “And how are you going to do that? By painting?”

“Yeah,” you mumble. “By doing exactly that.”

“Well, shit, I thought you were going to say no.” Jungwoo lets out a light-hearted laugh that rings in your ears. “But I think that would be a good idea. It’ll get your mind off of him. You never know, it might even help you move on.”

“Is it bad that I don’t want to move on?” You think aloud.

“Well, yes and no.” Jungwoo answers your thoughts. “It really depends on the situation.”

“How?”

He surprisingly finishes his first can of beer and moves on to his second. “From how heartbroken you are over him, I like to think that you’re both right for each other. You just both met the right people at the wrong time.”

“You think I met the right person at the wrong time?”

He nods. “Exactly so.”

It’s been five months since you last saw Jaehyun. It’s been five months since you last heard from him too. No text. No phone call. No nothing. Whatever happened between the two of you in Paris remains a memory that will forever be etched in your mind. You’re not sure if you could say the same thing for him.

You wonder if he’s doing alright. You wonder if he’s happy that he finally captured Sunjung’s heart. You wonder if he’s been eating his meals. You wonder if he’s getting enough sleep. Because you aren’t. You aren’t doing alright. You haven’t been eating your meals. You haven’t been getting enough sleep. And yet, it hurts even more knowing that he’s probably not even thinking about you. You probably don’t even cross his mind.

The news reporter on the TV screen continues to report the evening news. Your ears perk up at the sound of his name.

“Jeong Jaehyun will be holding a book signing for his new poetry book, Right Person, Wrong time, at the city’s biggest bookstore this Saturday at noon.”

It’s a huge mistake to be here.

But you are. You’re holding Jaehyun’s new poetry book in your arms as you’re walking towards the end of the line. Jungwoo’s voice echoes in your mind, telling you that this is a bad idea, but you’re stubborn. The line up shortens as more and more books are being signed by him. You find yourself a couple of metres near the table. You stand up on your tip-toes to get a good look of him. When you finally spot him, you let out a gasp. Your eyes start to water.

He hasn’t changed. He still looks the same. He just looks more tired. His smile reaches his ears. He looks happy. It makes your heart ache. You wish you were happy as him. But between the two of you, you felt like you were the only one left behind. He’s chasing his own happiness and here you are, left behind, trying to find what’s left between the both of you.

“What’s your name?” Jaehyun asks the teenager.

The teenager smiles. “Mina.”

He’s signing the teenager’s book. “You look familiar.”

“I do? I think it’s because I bumped into you in Paris a few months back. You were at the Musée d’Orsay!” The teenager exclaims.

Jaehyun’s hand stops writing. He slowly looks up at her. “Paris? Musée d’Orsay?”

“Yes! I asked for your autograph. You were looking at one of the artworks from Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s exhibition.” The teenager tries to recall her memory. “I think you were looking at Dance in the Country.”

Jaehyun smiles wider. “I remember you! Wow, what a small world.”

She giggles. “Yes, what a small world we live in.”

He closes the book and pushes it towards her. “I’m glad to see you again. I hope you take care! Thank you for coming to my book signing.”

“Thank you,” she says sheepishly. “Congratulations on your engagement, too!”

He thanks her and just as she starts to leave, he begins to welcome the next person in line. But right when he flashes the next reader a smile, his eyes meet yours. His smile is immediately wiped off of his face. You’re looking back at him in shock.

You bite your lip. You’re the first one to look away.

Indeed, this is a bad idea. This is a huge mistake. You find yourself stepping out of your line and looking for the exit. When you find the exit, your walking starts to speed up.

Jaehyun places his pen down and he’s immediately getting up from his chair. He watches you as you walk towards the exit. “Sorry, give me one second.”

He’s stepping down from the stage and everyone’s looking at him as he tries to chase after you. He’s pushing past people who are looking around the bookstore. Right when he steps outside of the bookstore, he looks left and right, in hopes of finding you.

But he doesn’t.

He scratches the back of his head. He swore he saw you. He looked into your eyes. He was so sure of it.

You try to catch your breath. When you do, you look behind a brick wall to see Jaehyun walking back into the bookstore. He scratches the back of his head. You sigh with relief.

Four months later…

“Please welcome, my daughter and pride, Y/N!”

The sound of clapping echoes throughout the exhibition room as you join your father on the small stage. He pulls you into a tight embrace. A couple of weeks after you flew back home from Paris, your father seemed to be less strict with you. He let you work at your own pace and stopped restricting you from living your life to the fullest. As a result, nine months later, you complete your second art exhibit in your career. And the turn out? Successful.

“Good evening, everyone.” You greet the large group of visitors. “First off, I wanted to thank you for taking time out of your busy day to visit this exhibition. It means a lot to me.”

Everyone is intently listening to you and you grow nervous from the attention. You look at your father for reassurance. He gestures you to continue. You look back at everyone.

“After my first successful art exhibit, I got burnt out. I packed a suitcase and flew a one-way trip to Paris in hopes of finding inspiration again. Little did I know, things turned out much differently than I expected.” You let out a chuckle. “This art exhibit is special because it highlights most of the memories I made in Paris with a stranger I met.”

You feel your father place his hand on your shoulder. You look at him with teary eyes.

“I don’t want to hold you all back from seeing the art and so, I present to you, my second art exhibit, Song for a Little Sparrow. Enjoy.”

As you watch everyone start to wander off to different paintings, you head towards one of the table stands to grab yourself a glass of wine. You needed some alcohol in your system. You join Jungwoo at one of the tables. He starts clapping for you as you approach him.

“Congratulations,” he smiles.

You fist-bump him. “Thanks.”

“You chose Song for a Little Sparrow over Wrong person, Right Time?” He asks.

“And what about it?” You take a sip of your wine.

“Do you think you met Jaehyun at the right time?” Jungwoo questions.

You slowly nod your head after much thought. “He’s getting married with someone he’s in love with. He’s the wrong person who came at the right time. I was burnt out, he was chasing the love of his life. We both met each other at the right time. Look what came out of it. He’s getting married and I managed to get my creativity flowing again.”

He swirls the wine in his glass. “But are you still in love with him?”

You stare at him. “It wouldn’t matter, anyways. He’s getting married. Thus, wrong person, right time.”

“What if I told you that I just saw him walk into the exhibit?”

“Stop joking around—”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” You cut him off. Your eyes scan the exhibit. “I can’t see him. I don’t see him. You’re joking. Stop joking around—”

“He’s right there—”

“Where?!” You exclaim.

“I’m just joking.”

You down your glass of wine before letting out a scowl. He’s laughing his ass off. “Fuck you.”

“Love you too,” he sends you a flying kiss. “I’m going to go mingle with some visitors. You never know, I might just meet the love of my life tonight.”

“I hope you don’t.”

“Do you really? Because if you do, you might have to spend the rest of your life with me—”

You fake a gag. “Yeah, please, go mingle. I’d rather spend the rest of my life with a house filled with puppies than spend it with you.”

He pretends to look offended. “I’m hurt. Anyways, see you later, love.”

You grin. “Go get em’, tiger.”

As he’s a couple of metres away, he turns back around to shout at you. “Don’t get too tipsy!”

“One ticket please.”

“Sorry, sir, the exhibition is closing in about half an hour. We’re not taking anymore visitors—”

Jaehyun takes off his shades and the ticket vendor clamps his mouth shut. What seems like the manager pushes him aside and looks at Jaehyun for a brief moment. “That’s quite unfortunate. When are you opening tomorrow?”

The manager clears his throat. “Well, we can give you a ticket for the remaining half hour, Mr. Jeong. It’ll be discounted. You can also choose to come back tomorrow, instead.”

Jaehyun purses his lips into a tight line. “Is the artist present at the exhibit?”

“Yes, Mr. Jeong.”

He smiles. “Then I’ll take the discounted ticket, please and thank you.”

The manager is scurrying to print an admission ticket. Jaehyun can’t help but look at him with amusement. There sure are some perks like these when you’re a best-selling author. As the manager is handing him his ticket, he thanks them and rushes towards the art exhibit down the hallway before time runs out. From behind him, the manager and the ticket vendor are beginning to close up the entrance gates to the art museum.

Jaehyun stops in front of the doors to the exhibit room to catch his breath. When he saw a billboard with your name and the date of your art exhibit plastered all over it, he did not hesitate to make a trip to the art museum on it’s first day of viewing to the public.

His feet drag him into the room. There’s not much people left in the exhibit room because it’s almost closing time. There are a couple of people looking at the art, him included.

He’s making the last half hour worth his time by stopping to look at each painting carefully. The first painting he looks at is a painting of a couple standing in front of a familiar museum. It’s a couple taking a picture in front of the Musée d’Orsay. His eyes flutter shut as he reminisces a memory from the back of his mind.

“What do you do for a living? You don’t need to answer if you don’t want to—”

“I’m a painter. What kind of question is that? Are we out on a blind date or something? I don’t remember meeting you on tinder.”

“You’re a painter? Like, you paint on canvas?”

“I was expecting more of an enthusiastic reaction or even better, a look of surprise. But yes, sorry to disappoint, I’m a painter. I pick up a paintbrush and I make strokes on canvas. That’s what I do for a living.”

“I’m sure you’re very talented. You should show me a couple of your paintings. Even better, why don’t you paint me like—”

“Like one of my French girls?”

“You probably get that a lot, huh?”

“I get that a shit ton of times that I am this close to throwing up.”

“God, I feel like throwing up whenever I see a couple out on the street. Like those two over there.”

“They’re in love. Leave them alone.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely leave them alone.”

“Stop being such a con artist, I’m sure you’ve been in love before.”

“I have—”

“And it was a nice feeling, right?”

“It was more so disappointing.”

He lets out a soft chuckle as he opens his eyes again. Before he moves onto the next painting, he can hear your bubbly laugh echoing through his mind.

“I’m going to take you out on dates for two weeks. And on those dates, I’ll prove to you that love exists.”

“And you expect this to work?”

“One hundred percent.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“If you don’t feel some sort of way after going out on dates with me, then love isn’t real. But if you do feel some sort of way, then love is real.”

“So, basically, if I fall in love with you, love is real. But if I don’t fall in love with you, then love isn’t real?”

“Perfect!”

“So, your goal is to make me fall in love with you?”

“Yes, but at the same time, no.”

“Is that even possible?”

“It’s possible. Just don’t fall in love with me.”

He moves onto the next painting. It’s a painting of the Luxembourg Palace. A smile is slowly starting to spread across his lips.

“How long have you guys been together?”

“We’ve actually just started dating.”

The next painting is a painting of what seems to be Sunjung and Seonghwa. It’s a painting of them dancing across the stage in the theatre. He glances down at his fourth finger that’s missing a wedding ring.

“You’re in love with her.”

“How would you know that? I don’t believe in love. Love is stupid. Love doesn’t exist.”

“Your eyes don’t seem to know how to lie, Jaehyun.”

“You got me. I’m stupidly in love with my best friend. Unfortunately.”

“If you’re in love with her, why don’t you believe in love?”

The painting he looks at next is a painting of a picnic at the Champ de Mars. Sitting in the middle of the painting is the Eiffel Tower. He assumes that it’s a painting of your view from the picnic you both had.

“Do you think so?”

“About what?”

“Do you think I’ll ever fall in love again, after Sunjung?”

“Love happens with the right person at the right time. I’m more than sure that you’ll fall in love again, you just have to allow your heart to do it.”

He finds himself taking more time to look at the last two paintings. He stands in front of a painting of the purple stained glass at the Sainte-Chapelle. He leans towards the painting to get a closer look. He chuckles when he sees that you painted the both of you as a reflection in the glass.

“I wish I fell in love with you instead. I wish I met you before Sunjung. Maybe things would have turned different.”

“Things would have definitely turned out differently.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“How so?”

“Because if you fell in love with me instead and if you had met me before Sunjung, I would have fallen in love with you in a heartbeat, just like how I’ve fallen in love with you now.”

When he moves onto the last painting, he feels a gasp getting caught in his throat. It’s a painting of someone he knows all too well. It’s a painting of him. It’s a painting of him standing near the railings of the cruise at the Seine river. It’s your view of him from behind.

He’s sure he’s in love with you.

He’s so sure of it.

“It’s beautiful, huh?” He snaps out of it. It’s a familiar voice.

His head snaps to his left. You’re standing right next to him. You’re already looking at him when he glances at you. He can’t seem to find a word to say, especially when you’re standing right in front of him. He’s not sure what to say when you flash him a warm smile that holds so much meaning.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

You giggle. “Hi, there.”

“C-Congratulations on your exhibit,” he manages to blurt out.

You blush. “Thanks. Congratulations on your book too. I read it actually, and I really enjoyed it.”

He clears his throat, pointing towards the painting in front of the both of you. “Is this me?”

You snort. “Who else would it be?”

“I feel honoured.” He mumbles.

You glance down at your wristwatch. “Well, I hate to say this but it’s closing time.”

“Already?”

You nod. “We wouldn’t want to keep anybody from going home to their families, right?”

“Ah, you’re right.” He lets out a sheepish laugh.

You purse your lips into a line and pat his shoulder. “It was nice seeing you, Jaehyun. I hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself. Thank you for dropping by, it means so much to me. I’ll get going. My father’s waiting for me.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows in confusion. You’re starting to walk away from him. He doesn’t want to lose you again. Why are you walking away from him?

You slow down in your tracks before turning around again. His eyebrows raise. “Jaehyun?”

“Yeah?”

“Congratulations on your engagement.” You smile. “It’s nice to see that you finally got a hold of Sunjung. Tell her I said hi—”

He shakes his head. “I called off the engagement. We’re not getting married.”

“Huh?” That’s all that manages to slip from your lips. “What did you just say?”

“I called off the engagement? We’re not getting married?” He repeats himself and it all comes out as a question.

“Why would you do that?” You look at him as if he’s crazy. “You literally chased Sunjung all the way to Paris and after getting engaged with her, you called the engagement off? Are you in your right mind?”

“I called it off because of this.” He gestures towards all the paintings in the exhibit. “I called it off because of you, because of my feelings for you.”

“You’re not making any sense, Jaehyun—”

“When I published Right Person, Wrong Time, Sunjung kept asking me if it was about her, if all the poems I wrote were about her.” He explains. “I couldn’t just tell her that they were about you, not when we were engaged. I wrote those poems during the two weeks I was with you in Paris.”

“They were about me?”

“We fought a lot after the engagement. I was starting to believe that the Sunjung I fell in love with was different to the Sunjung I got engaged to.” He continues to explain. “And then I thought, was this all just a mind game? Did I do all of this and fall in love with Sunjung only for things to turn out like this?”

“Jaehyun—”

“And then I remembered the things you said to me back in Paris. At that very moment, it came down to whether I should choose the woman I’m in love with or the woman who’s in love with me.” He cuts you off. “I decided to call off the engagement. Sunjung is the definition of the wrong person at the wrong time.”

“I—”

“Love happens with the right person at the right time.” He reminds you. “I knew that allowing my heart to fall in love again with the right person at the right time would happen and I knew that the right person would be you. But I was scared. I was terrified. It has already been seven months since I last saw or spoken to you.”

“I’m still mad at you for that, but just a little—”

“And then yesterday, I saw a billboard with an advertisement for your art exhibition and I thought, fuck it, I’ll go because I wanted to see you.” He sighs. “And that brings me here.”

“Are you happy to be here?”

“I’m more than happy to be here.” He sighs happily. “Just seeing you makes me happy.”

You bite your lip. “How could you be so sure that I’m still in love with you? What if I’m not?”

“If you’re not, then that’s fine. If I could spend the rest of my life waiting, I would. I know that there will be the perfect time, the right time for the two of us because I know you’re the right person for me.”

You smile. “Then I guess, this is the right time and moment.”

“Shit, is it really?”

You burst out into laughter. “Yes, Jaehyun. I’m still in love with you. I don’t think there was ever a time where I wasn’t.”

“God, I want to kiss you.”

“Do it. I dare you.”

He’s rushing over towards you and once he has his hands wrapped around your waist, the moment is ruined when there’s a security guard knocking on one of the doors to the exhibit room. The both of you pull away like two repelling magnets.

“Sorry, it’s closing time. I’m going to have to ask you to leave the museum. Thank you.”

“The paint is surprisingly cold.”

“Stay still!”

Jaehyun straightens his posture as he feels the cold paint brushing against his back. You’re making a couple of strokes on his back before leaning away to adjust your glasses on your nose bridge. Jaehyun looks over his shoulder and lets out a low chuckle. You raise an eyebrow.

“What are you looking at, doofus?”

“You have paint on your nose.”

You gasp. “Where? Can you get it off for me?”

He shakes his head with a teasing grin. “I don’t want to. You look cute like that anyways.”

“You little shit—”

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s going on in here?”

“Jungwoo, get out! You’re interrupting my creative process!”

tag list! @lanadreamie

author’s note. thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it!

#jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x oc #jeong jaehyun #jeong jaehyun scenarios #jeong jaehyun imagines #jeong jaehyun x reader #jeong jaehyun x oc #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines

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lesbian-vmin · 4 years

Note

Why do you think Vmin are "allowed" these questionable (at least for those who ship them) moments? I find it curious that some things are really pushed to the front (jikook for sure), and then sometime we get the vmin moments and left to wonder are they real or fanservice? I really despise the thought that either Jimin/V/other members are doing this on purpose, because they genuinely seem authentic (as much as a celebrity can be on camera), 1/2

Honestly, the whole moment of Jimin saying that he didn’t keep in touch with his members at all was pretty weird. Jimin, since day one, has painted himself as someone who loves his members very much. He doesn’t want to be away from them for too long, and he seems more interested with collaborating with each one of them individually before moving onto people outside of his group. This might be why we don’t have him collaborating with other artists while Jungkook, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi have all done so. And of course BTS as a whole. (I don’t think Taehyung and Jin have? But I might be forgetting something) And Jimin has a great voice. There’s no reason anyone wouldn’t want to feature him in a song. So I’m sure there are people who want to collaborate with him, and I imagine he’s gotten offers. (This is relevant to the ask, I promise.) Although language barriers may be a reason (he might not be as comfortable collaborating with people he can’t communicate with well as some of the others are, excluding Namjoon (and maybe Jungkook is getting there) who is better at English.)

So we can look at this several ways. We can take Jimin at his very minimal word and assume that he didn’t communicate with his members at all during his vacation. In which case, I would assume that he took it as a very much needed break from them, and decided to focus on the time that he was able to spend with his family. Or, we can assume that not every word is 100% true. Maybe when he says he didn’t keep in contact, he doesn’t mean that he didn’t keep in contact at all. Maybe he messaged them once in a while to see how they were doing, but didn’t contact them regularly. Maybe he did keep in contact with them, but just wasn’t talking about his vacation. They could have talked about anything under the sun, but since they weren’t sharing vacation details, he may have counted that as not keeping in contact. Because people would question, “mm, if you guys were in contact regularly, why don’t you know details about each other’s vacations?” If they happen to be talking about something, and another member seems to not know the information. He didn’t want to give anyone a reason to question things like that. We can also wonder if he did, in fact, keep in contact with them, but he doesn’t want to share certain things about the members and his personal time. So he just told us that he didn’t stay in contact with them. I don’t know whether to take Jimin at his word for that specific moment, but I also don’t think it matters whether they stayed in contact or not. Even if the members are close and consider each other friends or family, they don’t have to remain in contact at all times. I don’t think it’s weird for friends to go on vacation (say, home for the holidays) and not talk to each other. In fact, it’s the truest friends that can come back after not speaking for a week to months at a time and act like normal (instead of being awkward each other). Act like no time was lost. (At least this is how I see it because it’s how I am with my friends. I don’t typically keep in regular contact with people who aren’t physically around me [I don’t text much, so unless someone like talking on the phone or video chatting, we probably wouldn’t stay in contact while apart] because I like to enjoy the company of those I am actually with. This might have been the case for them. It doesn’t mean they aren’t close or don’t care about each other.)

Disclaimer. This post may talk about topics that could offend easily offended people. If you are easily offended. Don’t read. You have been warned. Also I talk a lot about both Jikook and Vmin in here. Skip to the Vmin part if (for whatever reason) you don’t want to read about Jikook. But I’d rather you really read the whole post because this goes beyond shipping and focuses on them as people.

JIKOOK

The way Jikook is pushed to the front to me is actually one of the things that make me feel like they are fan service a lot of the times. (I’m not saying anything bad about Jikook because it’s pretty obvious that Jimin and Jungkook both adore each other and love being around each other, but they really are pushed quite hard and obviously.) I don’t know why that is. I don’t know the company’s reason behind pushing Jikook so hard, but I have at least one idea as to why they would do so (if they aren’t a couple). Because Jungkook is the “manliest” member of the group, and Jimin is the most “feminine.” You have Jungkook who is tall, broad, and strong. Then there’s Jimin who is small and cute, and he doesn’t try so hard to be manly these days. (I felt like he tried to present himself like a strong man in early debut because he didn’t want people to view him as the smallest and weakest member of the group, but it’s pretty clear that he became more confident in who he actually is over the years. And this is not a hint toward any gender-identity because I’m a firm believer that a man doesn’t have to fit the “masculine” spectrum to identify as a man. I feel like that’s leaning toward toxic masculinity).

Anyway, focusing on the Jikook thing, I think that’s why they get pushed forward a lot. And I hate to say that about Big Hit because it’s a bold statement to make, but it makes sense. They can easily look like a couple because it’s easy for people to imagine Jungkook as the “man” and Jimin as the “woman.” Since there are many shippers who ship for fetish reasons instead of gay right reason, these kinds of ships are likely to draw people in. It’s unfortunate, but it’s also true. Because of heteronormative culture.

The big moments between Jikook, like I said, often look like fan service to me. That being said, I’m not saying all of their moments are fan service. It just looks like interactions between them are more likely to be focused on during editing because of the reasons I’ve stated above. It might be something they aren’t aware of because it’s just editing their natural interactions to be the front and center focus of productions, but I think that’s what’s happening. And it kind of makes me feel bad for them because it’s like the company is making a show of their relationship (regardless of what kind it is). Even if they are in a real romantic relationship, I can assure that’s not why they are pushed to the center, and it’s far more likely it’s for marketing purposes. So, yes. I hate it for them, even if they are in a relationship together because it could be the company saying “look at these two. Aren’t they precious?” But it feels more like “Look at these two. Don’t they look like a “real” couple between a boy and a girl because Jungkook is oh so strong and Jimin is oh so dainty?” Even if Big Hit is LGBT friendly, it doens’t mean that they can’t do/say homophobic things (even unintentionally) or that they can’t market BTS for a heteronormative culture, and a culture that fetishizes gay people or uses being gay for entertainment. (Edit: and fantasizing.) I’m not saying it’s right for them to do so, because I don’t agree with it at all. And I’d hope that’s not the reality of it (because I really want for Big Hit to be different), but it seems like it sometimes.

Now before I get into the Vmin part, I’m going to share a disclaimer. Because I hope people don’t come at me after I’ve already admitted that it’s pretty obvious that Jikook are close and love each other. I’ve mentioned a potential romantic relationship between them, so I’m not dismissing them as the “real” couple (and I’m also, ffs, not saying there is a “real” couple between the two). I adore Jikook, and I wouldn’t even be sad if they were ever confirmed. So. Keep that in mind for this next part.

VMIN

I don’t want this to turn into a post of me comparing Jikook and Vmin, and I decided to answer this ask because I was sure that I could answer it with that intention in mind. So let’s see if I can do this right.

When it comes to Vmin, I feel like there are far less moments that can be chalked up to fan service. There are clear moments that are fan service, so I’m not saying Vmin don’t participate in that at all, but it seems like they do less than Jikook. (And I know this is a comparison right here, but I hope it doesn’t get taken the wrong way but) When Jikook does fan service, it’s so seemless and natural. When it comes to Vmin, it’s sometimes a little awkward, and they’re more shy. I don’t know what that means for the two different types of relationships, but I’m not getting into that (because then it becomes comparing the two in a way I don’t want to on this blog).

I think Big Hit chooses Vmin friendship moments to focus on because they know that people love their “platonic soulmate” dynamics. But, when it comes to “shippy” moments, these aren’t pushed forward as much. Because Taehyung isn’t broad and manly like Jungkook, so it probably seems a little too gay. And that’s not okay. It doesn’t sell as well as a couple that can be imagined as heterosexual. (And I also think this is why Jikook is the bigger ship, honestly.)

That’s it, and I know I didn’t address everything in this ask. And I’m sorry for that. But I tried to focus on what (I think) was the main point. And I wanted to make it about something very real rather than about ships.

So while I did, in fact, compare the two, I’m not comparing their “realness” or anything like that. I’m comparing their marketing value because I think that’s what it boils down to when we get to see what we see. And if anyone comes at me for my comparison on a personal shipping level, you will be ignored because that’s not what this is about. And if you can’t get that from what I’ve said thus far, then you aren’t reading my words and heart correctly.

I do want to talk really quickly about them faking it, and I’m going to focus on Vmin for this because it’s a Vmin blog. I don’t think they fake it. Because some moments are so subtle that they’re clearly trying to be hidden, and some are so natural that they clearly weren’t thinking about it too much. That aside, I don’t think they would fake their close bond. When Jimin wrote a song and was told that he would sing it with Taehyung, he didn’t have to make Friends. He could have made the song about anything he wanted, and we would have taken it with just as much enthusiasm. It was his choice to make friends, and I believe he put his heart into that song. Since it was the first song he ever had part in for an album, it’d be pretty disrespectful to claim that he’s just trying to save face or not being honest in it. And I know a song could be chalked up to how well it sells, but I think that’s for the company to worry about, but as an artist myself, I know that your heart and soul goes into anything you create. And I just don’t feel right about blatantly disregarding a personal song, so yes. It’s one of my main arguments why Vmin are obviously, honestly, close and care about each other. And I will stand by that forever.

EDIT: All right. I went through this post and personally cherry picked the things I wanted you guys to focus on when reading instead of you doing it yourself. Because you’re hung up about the fact that I mentioned that Jikook has fan severice moments (even though I said the same thing about Vmin), so you’re clearly cherry picking, not reading the whole damn post, or getting hung about the fan service instead of focusing on my main fucking point. I NEVER said they weren’t close. In fact, I took the TIME to put a DISCLAIMER stating that it’s PRETTY OBVIOUS that they’re close, and that they genuinely like spending time together. I get that I said “Vmin has less fan service moments” or whatever. Let me clarify: What I meant was that it’s the EDITING and the fact that they FOCUS SO HARD on jikook that makes a lot of their moments feel like fan service. There’s no shortage of Jikook moments, and it’s NOT because Jikook are the only ones with moments, it’s because they’re the ones that make the cut most often. And I stated the reasons why I think that is. I literally even explained the thing about the editing and said, “It might be something they aren’t aware of because it’s just editing their natural interactions to be the front and center focus of productions,” but sure. Dismiss whichever statements you want. Because clearly you get to decide what I mean instead of me. Also, “So, yes. I hate it for them, even if they are in a relationship together because it could be the company saying “look at these two. Aren’t they precious?” But it feels more like “Look at these two. Don’t they look like a “real” couple between a boy and a girl”

And, in case it’s not clear from how I talked about their relationship here, I am, in fact, a Jikook shipper, too. I stated at least TWICE in here that I wasn’t trying to dismiss the realness of them. And I talked about how shitty it is for the company to use their relationship (if real) for marketing. And unless they’re ever confirmed, that’s what they’re doing. It’s marketing. Because if the company wanted people to care about their real relationship, they would let them come out. And that is NOT me dismissing the fact that they could be in a real relationship. If you can’t tell from what I’ve just written right here, I’ll clarify by repeating what I’ve already said in the post. Because if the are in a real relationship, I can guarantee you that is not why they get pushed so hard or shown the most. It’s because their masculine/feminine vibes are marketable. There are Jikookers, LIKE ME, who ship them because they like Jikook. But you can’t deny that there are a lot of Jikookers who ship them because they’re a straight girl in love with Jungkook and imagine herself in Jimin’s place because it’s easy to see. If you are one of the real Jikookers that ship them for their actual relationship and would LOVE it if they were ever confirmed, then fine. That’s not about you. But you have to admit that there are a LOT of shippers out there (not just Jikook) that ship them with guys because they don’t want them to end up with another girl that’s not the fan doing the shipping. Yet they still would be upset if they were ever confirmed because then it means they’re actually gay.

I love Jikook, and this post wasn’t intended to dismiss their relationship or bring it down. And I’d say I’m sorry if that’s the impression you got from it, but if you’d actually read and not choose which parts to focus on, you wouldn’t have gotten that impression. I just hate it that you guys got that impression because I do genuinely like Jikook. As much as Vmin, honestly. I was focusing on how the company treats the two ships, but sure. Dismiss every time I’ve drawn the post back to that point.

#answered #anonymous #vmin #jikook #vmin analysis #koala answers #got a lot of things off my chest with this #said a lot of things i never would have addressed without this ask #and a lot of things i know I’ll probably get hate for #but if i can change this awful heteronormative behavior one step at a time #it’s worth it

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary - Chapter 58

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @thunderintheshadows, @valkyrie-of-the-light

The team meeting/breakfast is scheduled for nine am; out on the roof top patio of Tyler's hotel. He's the last to arrive, hair still messy from sleep, laces of his boots undone, sunglasses covering his tired eyes. He'd finally managed to fall asleep shortly before three am, only to wake up every hour on the hour in a panic, body drenched in a cold sweat because of the nightmarish images that his brain just couldn't shake. He'd been dying for a drink; tempted by the unlocked mini bar in the corner of the room. The irrational side of his mind telling him that he'd be okay with just one or two. That he'd be able to just put the bottle down and walk away when he got even the smallest bit of buzz going on. Only to be talked out of it by the more mature and rational part; that he wouldn't be able to stop, that he'd drink until he was fall down drunk and then all of his progress, even in such a short period of time, would be for nothing. Instead he texted his wife and been brutally honest. That he was having a hard time and so close to slipping. That the situation in Christchurch was way worse than it originally seemed and he was legitimately scared; that he wasn't going to make it home to her and his kids. And she'd called him right away to talk him down. Never scolding or nagging. Just quiet and supportive. Strong.

It was six in the morning when they'd finally hung up. And he'd managed to fall into a somewhat restful sleep; successfully talked down off the ledge, both mind and body ready to let him rest. Then the phone had gone off at eight thirty and he'd immediately panicked; thinking that something had happened and he'd be needed to get home as soon as possible. Only to discover that it was the kids. They'd just gotten home and after an excited and joyful reunion with their mother, had wanted to call him. Excitedly blabbering about all of the fun things they'd done with Ovi and Chloe while they were on 'vacation', all the cool new foods they got to try, the trips to the zoo. But they'd been sad too; they'd missed home and everything that came with it. All the toys and their own beds and their backyard and even the chickens and the goats. Most of all, they'd missed their mom. Her kisses and her hugs and the way she cuts the crust off their sandwiches. And they'd been hopeful when they'd seen her that it had meant he was home too. Only to be heartbroken and disappointed when they found out he was still working.

So now he's late. By a mere five minutes. But he sees the way Mark glares at him as he approaches. There's no love lost between them. And Tyler seriously considers what Yaz had said the day before; about waiting until the job was over and then just dragging Mark out into the street and laying the beating of a lifetime on him.

“All good?” Yaz asks, as Tyler takes a seat beside him, then slides a cup of steaming black coffee towards him.

“All good.”

“Things are okay at home? With...well you know...”

He nods. “Things are fine with that. She's fine. Kids finally got back. They called wanting to talk to me, so...”

Across the table, Mark gives a derisive snort, shaking his head as he pretends to be immersed in his menu.

“What the fuck now?” Tyler asks. “You have an issue with me talking to my kids?”

“We don't have time for you to be dealing your personal shit, Rake.”

“They're his kids,” Yaz forcefully reminds Mark. “Who he isn't seen in almost a month. He's not supposed to talk to his kids now? Get out of here with that shit. They wanted to talk to their dad. What is wrong with you?”

“You either leave your shit back home or you don't show up,” Mark reasons.

“They're kids,” Nathan pipes up. “Little kids. They're not allowed to talk to their father?”

“We don't have time to be dealing with wives and girlfriends and kids and whatever the hell else. Are we not here to work? How are we supposed to get any shit done when some of you are too busy dealing with personal crap? Stow that shit and get on with business.”

“Sounds like someone is just bitter they don't have a personal life to worry about,” Yaz remarks, as he goes back to his own menu. “Because my sister was smart enough to move on to someone else.”

“There was never anything between me and your sister,” Mark informs him. “It was just...a thing...”

Tyler smirks. “A thing, huh? So that's what the kids are calling phone sex these days. Don't be mad, Mark. That some of us are actually having real sex while you're resorting to handling things on your own. We won't hold it against you. Just don't expect me to shake your hand though. I don't want to be touching something that's been attached to your dick.”

Yaz smirks and coughs noisily beside him.

“And I'll talk to my kids whenever the fuck I feel like it,” Tyler adds. “When I talk to my kids or my wife has nothing to do with you. Or is that what the real issue is? The fact that she's my wife and not yours. You fucked that up, buddy. That was over long before I came around. I'm just the one that cleaned up your goddamn mess.”

“Hey, if you like someone else's sloppy seconds, that's your business,” Mark retorts. “You two are made for each other. You're both fucking train wrecks.”

“Just admit you're pissed off that your ex moved on to bigger and better,” Yaz says. “That you screwed things up and now you've got to live with that and he gets to live with her. Not his fault you're a cheating, wife abusing bastard.”

“Cheating, narcissistic, wife abusing bastard,” Tyler corrects. “You left out narcissistic. Just let it go, Mark. I'm not in the mood for your shit. I'm never in the mood for your shit. But especially not now. I haven't seen my kids in almost a month, my wife isn't doing well and just got out of the hospital, and I'm here putting up with your crap. So how about you just sit there and shut the fuck up.”

Mark frowns. “She was in the hospital? Why?”

“Oh now he's worried about her,” Yaz scoffs. “Not when he was beating the shit out of her. But now. Now that she's with a guy that doesn't do that kind of shit. Why was she in the hospital? How about it's none of your goddamn business.”

“She hasn't been feeling well and thought maybe there was a problems with the baby,” Tyler casually explains, sipping his coffee.

Mark's frown deepens. “Baby? What baby?”

“The one that I put inside of her almost four months ago. That baby.”

“Say what you want about the man, but he's got seriously talented sperm,” Yaz digs a playful elbow into his friend's ribs. “And lots to spare, apparently.”

Congratulations go up around the table; followed by his personal cell phone being passed around in order to proudly show off the ultrasound photos that his wife had sent to him. It isn't his first rodeo; he's been this round four times now. But each time feels just as amazing as the last; seeing the pictures, watching her grow bigger with their child, his child, thinking about how incredible it is that despite all of their issues, they managed to create another human being together. And it's bittersweet in a way. That this will be the last one. The last chance that he has to go through the experience with her yet he here is, thousands of miles away.

A waitress comes to take their orders and talk eventually turns to the job at hand. Most specifically, his talk with Heather McMann the day before.

“Think she's trust worthy?” Yaz inquires. “Did she seem on the up and up?”

“Seemed that way,” Tyler replies. “But then so did her husband and look at how that ended up.”

“Definitely not your brightest moment,” Mark snidely comments.

Tyler chooses to ignore it. “Unless she's a really good actress, there is no way she was lying. It was too real; the emotion on her face, in her voice.”

He realizes how much he sounds like Esme; when she's going on about how there's times where he communicates more effectively with his facial expressions and his body language than with actual words. She always knows what he's feeling...what he's thinking...long before he ever verbally expresses them. That is how it had been with Heather McMann. It wasn't what he'd heard. It was what he'd seen. And everything told him that it was very, very real.

“And the kids are in there?” Mark asks. “In that shop?”

“In the basement. She says it's like an underground bunker down there. Just like the one back home. It would look like this...” he snatches the pen that Yaz has tucked in the breast pocket of his short sleeved button down, and then grabs the unused napkin underneath his own cutlery. “One long hallway...” he speaks as he hastily draws the layout. “...there's a room immediately to the left of the stairs. Small. Five by six, if that. Another room about four feet down the hall, to the right. Slightly bigger. I'm saying about seven by eight, maybe. Five more rooms after that. Directly across from one another. The first three are the same size; eight by nine. Last two are bigger. The one where Esme found the chair was eleven by twelve. The one where I found Erin Ferguson was large. Thirteen by fifteen. There's a door, at the end of the hall; just leads to a small cold storage area. No other entrance or exit. Just the main one. Hallway is three hundred and fifty feet. Give or take a couple of inches.”

“And you were able to know all of this...all these measurements...even though it was dark down there?” Mark smirks. “How?”

“Because I have two fucking feet and I know how to count without having to use my fingers. That's how. I walked that entire place. We walked it. I know exactly how many feet there were.”

Just like he'd known exactly how many it took to get as far as he did on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. Because he'd counted down every single one; each step taking him not only closer to freedom and safety, but to her. A number that...as soon as he'd been healthy enough...he'd had tattooed on the inside of his right bicep. Along with each of the kids' first and middle initials and their dates of birth.

“And I never once mentioned that it was dark down there,” he adds. “How did you know that?”

“So maybe it wasn't completely dark,” Mark corrects himself. “Just the rooms. The hallway had light.”

Tyler scowls. “But I never mentioned that. To any of you. This is the first time I've talked about what it was like down there since it happened. How'd you know that the only light was in the hallway?”

“I guess I just assumed,” Mark shrugs. “I mean, there's only so many options when you're underground, right?”

“You absolute motherfucker,” Tyler's eyes darken, his voice becoming menacing as the reality sinks in. “It was you. You're the one that told McMann we were going there. When Esme asked you to distract him so we could go there and poke around.”

Mark gives a dry laugh. “Okay, that's really reaching, Rake. Your brain really is messed up if you can jump to shitty ass conclusions like that so fast.”

“She trusted you. I trusted you. You told him as soon as you met him up with him, didn't you. That's how he was able to get things together so quickly. He knew exactly how long it would take us to get there. It gave him enough time to get his people there and have someone fuck up the comms. Or was that you, too? FBI would know how to do shit like that, right?”

“You're crazy,” Mark declares. “You've officially gone right off the deep end. Snapped that last shred of sanity you've been hanging onto. I told Esme this would happen you know. That one day you'd just lose it all together. I'm glad it didn't happen when you were at home. You'd probably be one of those guy's that would go completely psycho and kill his entire family...”

“Listen you little fuck...” there's a loud clatter of silverware and china as he leans across the table, a fist snatching Mark by the front of his golf shirt. Around them, conversations and laughter all come to a stand still as every eye on the place zeros in on the altercation taking place before them. “...for the last time, leave my family out of this. Don't talk about them, don't even think about them.”

“Okay...okay...” Yaz once again resorts to playing peacemaker. “...I get you want to kill him, but we're in a public place and the last thing we need to do is draw attention to ourselves. So please calm the fuck down.”

Tyler releases his grip on Mark's shirt, but roughly shoves him back into his chair. “I trusted you. I took her word for it that you wouldn't totally fuck us and you did. You knew she was going with me. You knew she'd be there. And you told him. Do you know what could have happened to her? If I hadn't have told her to leave? Do you have any idea the sick shit they would have done to her? Or didn't that matter to you. As long as you got rid of me, you didn't give a shit what happened to her.”

“Is this true?” Yaz asks. “What he's saying? Were you the one that told McMann about Tyler and Esme going there?”

“I never said a goddamn word. He's crazy. Certifiably crazy. We all know his issues. How fucked up in the head he is. Doesn't this prove that?”

“I'm fucked up in the head?” Tyler retorts. “You're calling me fucked up in the head yet you're the one that knew what would happen to her if they got a hold of her? You hate me that much that you'd let that happen? You'd let them do that her? To my wife?”

“Is it true?” Yaz presses. “Just tell us that. Were you the one who told McMann that they'd be at the house? Yes or no.”

Mark sighs heavily. “Yes.”

“Jesus...fuck...” Yaz mutters, as Nathan throws his hands up in surrender of the whole screwed up situation and walks away from the table. “...you can't be serious. Why the hell?”

“Money,” Mark simply replies. “He offered me a lot of money.”

“Holy shit,” Zak shakes his head in disbelief and gets up from the table as well. “This is fucked. You're fucked, Mark. We're supposed to be a fucking team! You brought us here to help and you're going around doing shit like this? For money?”

“He needed help,” Mark says. “He'd already screwed up once when it came to killing you. He thought for the second time would work.”

“And it didn't matter that she was with me,” Tyler states. “It didn't matter what they do to her. None of that mattered to you.”

Mark shrugs. “Collateral damage.”

“You didn't care if my kids were left without their father or their mother?”

“Whatever had to be done to take you out. If that meant she went too...” he shrugs once more.

Sighing heavily, Tyler shakes his head and leans back in his chair, elbow on the arm rest; palm pressed against his forehead as he closes his eyes.

“Guess things were really fucked once we grabbed McMann, huh?” Yaz inquires. “Guess that's why you were hell bent on getting Tyler to change his mind about wanting to torture his ass. You didn't want anything to happen to your boss. In case there was a chance to make more money.”

“Are you kidding?” Mark laughs. “I was glad when we got rid of him. Means I didn't have to worry about him anymore.”

“You mean you didn't have to worry about him ratting you out,” Yaz concludes. “You realize that we're going to have to cut you loose, right? That this goes way beyond fucking things up. You were going to kill one of your own teammates. Or have someone else kill them. Like what the hell man? For what? Money? Or did this go beyond that? Was this a more personal thing? All because you didn't like the fact that your ex moved on?”

“I gotta get out of here,” Tyler pushes his chair away from the table, taking money from his wallet and tossing it down.

The anxiety is too far out of control; chest tightening, sweat beginning to gather at the small of his back and the nape of his back, the faint quell of nausea as bile sits in his throat. And he's vaguely aware of the sarcastic, cutting comment Mark makes at expense as he leaves; strides long and purposeful as they take him across the busy roof top patio and through the restaurant. Needing to get the hell away...away from the noise...away from the bright lights...away from all the people. Jamming his finger repeatedly against the down button for the elevator; muttering curses and wiping sweat from his forehead with his forearm and trying to force himself to breathe.

“You okay?” Yaz is suddenly at his side, a concerned look on his face. “What's up? Talk to me?”

“I can't...it's like I can't fucking breathe....”

“Just take it easy. That was a lot to fucking hear. You got meds on you or....?”

“I don't need meds. I just need to get out of here. Where there's less noise and less people and...”

Yaz frowns as he glances around the empty hallway. “There's no one even out there. You want me to go with you? You don't look so good.”

He shakes his head. “I'll be fine. I just need to go...I don't know where I need to go...I just know I can't be here...”

“You're not going to do anything stupid are you? I mean, you've got all those guns in your room and...”

“I'm not going to fucking kill myself. I might kill him,” he nods in the direction of the restaurant. “But I'm not going to kill myself.”

“You should call home,” Yaz suggests. “Talk to Esme. She'll know how to talk you down.”

“I don't need to call home. I don't want her fucking worrying about this shit. She's got four kids to take care of and a baby to worry about...”

“And you're the father of those kids and that baby and she deserves to know when you're feeling like this. Call home. Or I'll do it for you.”

“Stay out of it, Yaz. I know you're trying to help. But stay out of it. I'm trying to keep shit from falling apart. And the more I put on her, the more I'm going to push her away and the more it is going to fall apart.”

“That's bullshit and you know it. Go back to your room, call home, talk to your wife.”

The elevator finally arrives; allowing several people off before stepping into the empty cab.

“Call her!” Yaz orders.

“Stay out of it,” he shoots back, and slams his finger against the close door button.

****

By the time he returns to his room, the photos from Heather McMann have arrived; tucked in a brown paper envelope and stuck between the door and the frame. He'd expected an email or images sent through a text message, so he's surprised -albeit pleasantly- to find that she'd through such efforts to make sure he got exactly what he needed. Once inside he takes half a dozen anti anxiety pills and two Prozac instead of the normal one. And he feels no guilt or shame when he swallows them down with half a bottle of whisky from the bar, leaving the rest on the nightstand as he dumps the contents of the envelope onto the bed. Some of the photos have sticky notes on the back of the them; pointing out small details that he may not notice at first but she felt he needed to know about. And while the photographs are promising and should be leaving him with more answers than questions, they just aren't enough. They don't put his frantic mind to rest; the conversation with Mark replaying in his mind, the feelings of rage and betrayal, the sense of doom that hangs over him like an ominous dark cloud.

He considers just packing it up and going home. Handing everything off to Yaz and telling him that he's done. Get someone else. That he's not feeling confident enough to get the job done. That his brain is too fucked up to fully focus on what needs to be done. That would be more dangerous than anything else; if he couldn't get his head on straight and commit himself one hundred percent, both he and those kids would die. There was no question about. It would be best for everyone if he just left; if he accepted defeat just this once and admitted that he wasn't in any shape to carry this job out.

His private cell phone vibrates against his leg and he slips it from the side pocket of his cargos. At first he considers not answering; he's almost done the bottle of the booze and he's considering opening another and once he starts talking to her, he'll confess all his shortcomings and admit to all his bullshit and then it will cause a big old thing between them. She'll be pissed off. Disappointed. Not meaning to call him a failure but making him feel like one nonetheless. He reminds himself that that's just bullshit; his brain trying to convince him that everyone...even her...is out to get him. She's never...even in the midst of his biggest fuck ups...made him feel like he was a complete and utter disaster.

So he answers it; catching it on the last ring before it goes to voice mail.

“Everything okay?” he asks in way of greeting. “You and the kids okay?”

“What the hell is going on, Tyler?” her response is straight to the point. Yet it's not anger in her voice. It's hurt. Confusion. “Yaz just called. What is going on over there?”

“What did he tell you?”

“Something about Mark being involved with McMann and being the one that told McMann that we'd be at the house that day. That McMann offered him money for information? What the fuck, Tyler?”

“Okay, I'm going to need you to calm down. Less stress, remember? So just take it easy...”

“How the hell am I supposed to take it easy? You're thousands of miles away, getting ready to walk into some pretty dangerous shit with no proper help and no proper back up and...”

“Esme,” his tone is firm. “Calm down. We shouldn't even be talking about this. The kids...”

“The kids are outside with Ovi and Kyle. They can't hear a thing I'm saying. You need to start talking. You need to tell me what the fuck is happening before I get on the next plane to New Zealand. Because you damn well know I'll do it and I know it's the last thing you want. So you either start telling me what the hell is happening or I swear to God. Tyler, I will show up on your doorstep and there won't be a goddamn thing you can do stop me.”

“Are you going to calm down?” he inquires. “Because I'm not saying shit until you do. So you either calm down or you hang up and call me back when you have your shit together.”

“Don't fucking talk to me like that. I'm not one of your soldiers from your military days that you can boss around. I'm your wife. So don't be a condescending asshole and...”

“Esme!” he snaps. “Calm down or I'll hang up and I won't answer when you call back, understand me?”

“Don't..”

“Understand me?” he presses, and it's then that she takes a long, deep inhale, followed by a shaky, uneven exhale. “Are you good? Are you done flipping your shit on me? I need you stay calm. And that baby needs you stay calm. Do you want something happening? Because I don't”

“Of course I don't. But I also don't want anything happening to you. And if what Yaz said is true...”

“McMann gave Mark money...or at least offered him money...to tell him that we were going to be at the house.”

“But why? For what purpose? To kill you? So McMann wouldn't have to get his own hands dirty?”

“Apparently. And he told him even though Mark knew you'd be with me. Meaning if they'd gotten a hold of you...”

“And that's what really set you off. Yaz said you had a panic attack.”

“He should have kept his mouth shut.”

“No. He shouldn't have. You should stop assuming that I'm some weak and fragile little girl that can't handle these things. I've been handling them for five and a half years, Tyler. I spent months sleeping in a chair in a hospital, dealing with a lot worse than this. Having people constantly telling me that you weren't going to survive or that if you did you'd be brain damaged and I'd spend the rest of my life taking care of you. You think this is bad? This isn't half as bad as the things I heard and the things I was prepared to do. You always go on and on about how strong I am. Well start treating me like I am!”

He's surprised by the forcefulness in her voice.

“You get so caught up thinking you constantly need to protect me. And I understand why you're like that. I do. We've been through a lot of together. We've been through some terribly shitty and scary things. But you don't need to be this way. It's frustrating and it's annoying and it's suffocating. And I don't know why you can't see that. You need to stop. More importantly, I need you to stop. Stop protecting me and start trusting me that I can handle things.”

'You're right,” he reluctantly admits. “I know how much you hate it. The whole overprotective thing. And I don't mean to be that way. But I also can't help it. I can't stop wanting to keep you safe.”

“I'm not saying you need to stop. I'm saying you need to tone it down a bit. I'm not one of the people you get hired to get out of shitty situations. Dhaka was five and a half years ago. You did what you needed to do. I survived. Now you need to start acting like we're not still stuck back there and you're still trying to find a way to get me out of there. You always tell me I need to let it go. Maybe there's parts of it you still need to let go too.”

He sighs heavily, then reaches for the bottle of whisky and drains it.

“What's going to happen now?” she asks. “With Mark??”

“I don't know. Nik can take care of that. She brought him into this, she can take him out of it.”

“I never should have asked him for help. If I'd never asked him...”

“Don't do that. This isn't your fault. You didn't know he was going to turn around and do something like this.”

“Still, if I hadn't have asked him...”

“Esme...stop. This isn't on you. You didn't know he was going to turn out like this. Let Nik take care of it. There's nothing either of us can do about him.”

“You could always kick the shit out of him.”

“I'm tempted. Believe me. Beyond tempted, even.”

“But you're okay, right? Because that's all that matters to me. That you've calmed down and you're okay.”

“Yeah,” he glances over at the empty whisky bottle. “I'm okay.”

“Is there any good news? Are you any closer to getting those kids and getting the fuck home? Because we kind of miss you here.”

“I miss you guys too. And I'd come home right now if I could. And maybe I should. Maybe I should just say 'fuck this' and tell Nik to find someone else. Because I'm so sick of this shit. I'm tired and I'm sore and I just want to see you and the kids. I've had enough. I can't do this anymore. This life. I just can't.”

“Tyler....”

“I can't...” he insists, and his voice finally cracks under the weight of the emotion that he's been carrying around. Is it weeks? Months? Years even? He doesn't know for sure. But the burden has been huge and heavy, and despite his best attempts, he just can't carry it any longer. “...I can't do this...mentally...I just can't...I need to come home. I'm no good to those kids if I stay. I can't get them out of there. Not when I'm like this.”

“Tyler...”

“It'll just make things worse,” he continues, letting both the words and the tears flow. “I can't get past it. What's going on in my head. There's so much going on and it won't leave me alone. It never leaves me alone. It's never quiet up there anymore and I can't take it. I need it to be quiet. I need it to leave me alone and it won't if I stay here. It'll never leave me alone. And I can't live like this any longer. I just can't.”

“Come home,” she says. Simple. Straight to the point. “You need to come home.”

He nods in agreement, using the back of his hand to clear the tears off his face.

“You've done enough. For other people. Now you need to come home and get better.”

“I can't do it by myself,” he admits. “I know I can't.”

“You don't have to. You know that. You're not alone in this. I'll help you. And I wish I was there right now. I'd do anything to be there with you. You know that, right?”

“I do. I do know that.”

“Just come home, Tyler,” she says. “It's time to come home.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #sanctuary #extraction #chris hemsworth character

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tonyspep · 5 years

Text

this night is sparkling, don’t you let it go (i’m wonderstruck blushing all the way home)

a/n: like always when it comes to my richard fics this is @rocketrhap917‘s fault but in the best way possible.rae has become such a great friend these past few months since i found her fics for richard. my inspiration was this https://veinsofmantra.tumblr.com/post/188848193579 post and my face claim for you aka maddie is elizabeth olsen best known for playing wanda maximoff in the mcu. you can see her here. also i used lyrics from “enchanted” by taylor swift for the title of this fic.

~*~this night is sparkling, don't you let it go~*~

(i'm wonderstruck blushing all the way home)

pairing: richard madden/you

summary: you were never a risk taker, but the last thing you wanted was for everyone to think you had a lousy time in paris, so for the first time you took a risk; asking a handsome strange for a kiss, the worst he could do is say no, except he didn't

rating: t

The sun slowly setting while you rode the elevator to the top of the Eiffel Tower reminded you that your time in Paris was dwindling. You didn't think a week had ever gone by so fast, but this was your lone vacation of the year, as you had only been working at Gourmand Magazine for a year and hadn't accumulated much paid time off as a result. So instead of staring at the familiar sight of Bryant Park, you were taking in one of Europe's most vibrant cultural centers, seemingly unearthing a new sight every time you blinked.

You sighed heavily, your teeth sinking into your lip as the elevator dinged, signalling you had reached the observation deck. Your camera – yes, camera complete with multiple lenses and a small tripod – weighed heavily in the bag you slung across your shoulder. Though, Gourmand hired you for your writing, you had experience in food styling from when you were in college and photography had always been a hobby of yours, so you brought your beat up – but still functional, thank you very much – Nikon with you.

Your lips twisted wryly as you thought of your sister, Maggie, who teased you for bringing it along while she helped you pack. mads, i don't get it, sue me, but you have a perfectly good iphone ten for pictures. why are you packing that old dinosaur? dad doesn't even remember giving it to you. save the space for thongs for the sexy french dudes you'll be hooking up with.

You managed to hold down a bark of laughter as you stepped out onto the crowded space. Your sister – though, she was older – thought you were going to be whisked into some kind of romantic comedy or at least an episode of Sex and the City the second you touched down at the Charless DeGalle airport and your week long trip would be nothing but hook ups with Gabriel, Raphael and Louis, ever so enchanted by your Midwest twang and slouchy beanies and beat up boots.

yeah, mags you thought with a roll of your eyes i'm every frenchman's dream

You shook your head, pasting on a warm, friendly smile as you manuevered your way through the throng of tourists and locals on the deck, hoping to squeeze your petite frame into a good spot where you'd be able to get shots of the city at sunset. Your heart couldn't help but sink as you looked at the couples all around you – apparently you hadn't gotten the memo that tonight was couples only – which only served to remind you that you weren't supposed to be here alone. You were supposed to be here with your boyfriend of nearly two years Nick, but he broke up with you a month before the trip and of course the deposit on the hotel room was non refundable and it was too late to change your ticket, so you were stuck going to Paris alone. He at least – ha – had the courtesy to Zelle you the money for his ticket.

Another sigh passed your lips as you found some space between the couples exchanging longing glances and fevered kisses.

“Beautiful night isn't it?” A rich baritone came from beside you, nearly making you jump out of your skin. “Didn't mean to startle ye,” Their tone somewhat sheepish and when you turned to face them, your breath caught in your throat and your heart stuttered while your pulse raced.

You were sure you had never seen a more handsome man.

Not even Leo looked this good to you while you were swooning over him in Romeo + Juliet and Titanic as a lovestruck teenager.

He was at least a head taller than you, just a little under six feet or just at the six foot mark, you guessed. His eyes were the bluest blue, so blue it was like staring into the ocean itself, you thought you could drown if you stared long enough. His lips were plush and inviting, as if their shape had been specifically made for kissing. His jaw, that looked sharp enough to cut glass, was covered by a neatly trimmed russet beard – briefly a sizzling thought was seared into your brain as you wondered what the bristly hairs might feel like between your thighs.

You flushed, but willed the heat in your cheeks to recede, the thought replaced by something tamer. The wonder of wanting to know what it would feel like to card your fingers through the thickness of his simply styled hair, the grey streak at the front capturing your attention. The silver mixed among the otherwise dark auburn only enhanced his attractiveness and you thought your touch/romance starved brain might have conjured him up, like some sort of mirage as if you were wandering in the desert and were desperate for water.

Because, honestly, how could he be real?

“An amateur photographer, perhaps?” Brought you back to reality. Just as your lips parted, he shook his head, “No, no don't tell me,” He flashed the most charming knee weakening grin you'd ever seen, thirty two perfectly white teeth shining at you and your thighs clenched as he stroked his beard, pretending to be deep in thought. “Let me guess,” He leaned in close as if you weren't complete strangers, his breath – minty fresh – warming your face.

“Artist,” He declared and you were sure your panties would be ruined if he spoke another syllable.

“I can only draw stick figures, sorry,” You remarked, your lips twisting into your first genuine smile since you stepped off the plane. “You, uh,” Your voice took on a lighter, airier tone – dare you even say flirtatious – as you moved a little closer, your bodies nearly touching. “Were right the first time,” You gave a breathless giggle and were rewarded with a low chuckle rumbling from his chest.

“An amateur photographer, are ye?”

“I write for a food magazine,” You explained, not really taking the time to analyze that you were telling all of this to a complete stranger. “Back in New York. Gourmand. It's, uh, just barely getting off the ground and I've only been there a year, so I don't have a lot of vacation time saved. I was supposed to be here with someone, but it didn't work out,” You could feel your cheeks heat up from the admission. “I couldn't get the hotel room deposit back and it was too late to switch my flight to somewhere else. I, uh, did some food styling in college, but photography's actually been a hobby of mine since high school.”

“An actual camera's a rare sight these days.” His breath warms your face again as he angles it just so, his fingers brushing along the strap that keeps the camera around your neck. The tips – calloused and rough, but not unpleasant – catch, briefly, against the skin of your neck and you don't know how you're standing.

“My sister,” Your tone is rueful just as your smile is. “Thought it was a waste of space. She voted for thongs to fill the space inside my suitcase instead,” The words fell from your lips without a second thought and another low chuckle left those criminally plush lips. “Thongs, you say?” He arched a perfect brow. “But since your camera took up all that space, am I to assume no thongs accompanied you on your trip?”

You laughed instead of flushed like you expected yourself to do. You gave him a shove, surprised by your bold move and he laughed again, his crystal eyes twinkling while they squinted and crinkled attractively until the last rasp fell from his lips.

You stood on your tip toes, your lips brushing along the shell of his ear – again, taking yourself by surprise – and murmured, “No thongs, I'm afraid, but some lacy pairs accompanied me. I may be wearing a pair right now.”

“Oh,” He sounded breathless, and you felt yourself swell with pride. You – little Maddie Rogers – from Naperville made this incredibly handsome guy with this too die for accent breathless and flush. You who always waited for the guy to make the first move did that. Where it came from you didn't know, it was probably the fact that you were in Paris and though not quite the romantic Maggie was, you were being swept up in the vibe that the Eternal City gave off, that rush that anything could happen, that you could be anyone or anything and it wouldn't matter because in, like, two days you would be gone.

For the first time since you landed, Nick was the furthest thing from your mind. You were doing the thing you had struggled to do since you were a kid, live in the moment and just be.

Your brain was buzzing while heat surged through your veins, the urge to have those perfect lips pressed against yours too much to ignore. You turn yourself, your soft but lithe frame pressed against him and he's just as you thought he would be; lean and hard, not overly muscled but the perfect amount that you can feel the toned shape of his pecs through the fabric of his henley that clings to him just so, your breasts cushioned wonderfully against the muscles.

“Kiss me,” You basically demand before you can stop yourself.

Without a second thought, his large hand reaches between your bodies, touching your chin gently to angle you in a more advantageous way and just as you feel your lashes brush your cheeks when your eyes close, his lips are on yours.

If you're breathing, you don't know. All you know is his lips feel just as plush as they looked and yes, they were specifically designed for kissing. They literally shouldn't be doing anything else. Your lips open with no resistance for his insistent tongue and you allow him to coax your own out of hiding, tangling with his with no regard that you don't know his name and he doesn't know yours.

Breathing – unfortunately – is a necessity and when you break apart, you feel as though your coming up for air after having been under water. Your lungs burn, but it's pleasant and all you want is to capture his lips again, never wanting to go another second without them moving hungrily against your own. Your foreheads are pressed together and you feel your lips curve into a smile. He laughs, his hand moving languidly over your back, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to touch the small of your back, and god what you wouldn't give for him to touch you everywhere, no barriers between you.

You're under an intense haze, your brain foggy in a way it's never been and just as his lips brush against yours again, you pull away before the kiss can turn hotter. You give a soft smile, your fingers lingering along the bristles of his beard and you giggle at the roughness of the hair there – so different than the soft, thickness you felt as your fingers carded through the hair on his head - “just a sec,” you breathe and it takes everything to pull away.

Your camera's on the railing, when you took it off you don't know, but you slip your phone from your back pocket and tap a middle aged woman on the shoulder. You ask if she speaks in English, unsure if she is French or not and when she says yes – her Minnesota accent coming through – you laugh and ask if she'd be willing to take a picture of you and – you let the white lie slip from your lips – boyfriend, a tingle rushing up your spine from the word while your stomach dips and tumbles from the heady thought you desperately wish was true.

She says yes and you're pulling him in for what you intend to be another steamy kiss. Instead, he's unbelievably gentle. Taking special care when his lips slide along yours, one of his hands anchored in your hair and the other at the small of your back, to keep you pressed against him. His tongue is slow and languid as it moves against yours and you pull back just as the woman goes, “there you go,” and you sigh softly, your breath literally stolen and he says, “thank you ma'am,” the accent – Scottish, you finally realize – sending your heart beating like a runaway train.

“Oi, Dickie!” A British accent calls from a foot away and you laugh when he mutters, “fuck all,” under his breath. “Dickie?” You can't stop yourself from giggling. You're not sure what you would have guessed his name to be, but he definitely isn't a Dick. “It's Richard,” He murmurs, thumb stroking your cheek. “My father's also named Richard so my Mum took to calling us Big Dick and Little Dick. My friends think it's funny.”

“Oh,” You murmur, giggles slowly fading from your tone. “Take care,” He says, flashing another knee weakening smile and yeah, you're positive your panties are ruined at this point. “And whoever you were supposed to be with is a bloody fool.” His tone is so sincere you fight back a swoon. “I'd never let a beauty such as yourself end up in Paris – of all places – alone.”

“Thanks...”

“Bloody hell, mate...” His friend grouses after he pushed his way through the throng of people to get to where the two of you were standing. “For finding my camera,” You finish, reaching for the familiar device. You knew what was going to happen next, his friend was going to ask who you were and then you'd probably end up wherever they were going and in the morning he'd be in your bed just a day left on your trip and he'd, somehow, convince you to stay and that was something you couldn't – literally – afford to do. You were barely making the rent as it was since you didn't have Nick's extra income coming in anymore.

“Of course,” He muttered, those pure crystal eyes going cloudy and your stomach twisted. His handsome face looked sad, though it was probably your imagination. He had no reason to be sad. You were just a stranger he kissed in Paris. It's not like you were ever going to see each other again.

“Who was that?” You heard his friend ask as you slipped through the crowd to make your way to the elevator. You bit down on your lip, twisting the flesh between your teeth and you swore you could still taste him; minty fresh with something spicy and deep underneath. Just like you swore his scent lingered in your nose; bergamont and orange with notes of musk and wood, a scent you doubt you would forget any time soon.

Before you shut the light off in your hotel room, you found the picture the fellow tourist had taken of the two of you, and before you could stop yourself you logged into your instagram account.

You posted the pic with the caption; i hope this guy i met at the eiffel tower and asked for a pic of us kissing so i could pretend i had a romantic time in paris is doing good.

The next morning your phone was buzzing and you rolled your eyes at the stream of text messages and dms Maggie had sent you. As you stretched your limbs and twisted your hair into a messy bun so you could prepare to wash your face and brush your teeth, your phone pinged. You were prepared to leave Maggie on read – not wanting to deal with her craziness so early in the morning and on your last day in Paris no less – when you saw that it wasn't a text or a dm from her.

Someone had liked – along with a few hundred other people – your photo of you and the stranger kissing. Your eyes squinted to read the user name – your glasses on the dresser in the middle of the room and you had taken out your contacts when you went to sleep – and saw it was from madsrich.

You didn't recognize the name and just as you were about to put your phone down, it pinged again letting you know you had a dm. It was from madsrich. huh?????????? you thought before clicking the message so it could fill your screen.

you hoped the guy you met at the eiffel tower and asked for a pic of us kissing so you could pretend you had a romantic time in paris is doing good, eh? i can confidently say he's doing well. though, he'd really like to know your name. it can't really be maroge12.

You nearly fell off the bed. It couldn't be... Your mind was racing and when you clicked on his username it took you to his profile and sure enough those unreal crystal blue eyes you believed you could drown in were staring back at you from various photos.

You quickly typed a response to his dm, your fingers shaking and tripping over themselves enough times that you had to go back and retype your message before you clicked send.

my name's maddie. and you're doing well, are you? that's good to know. i'm doing well also. i had a romantic time in paris, after all ;)

#richard madden x reader #richard madden x you #richard madden fanfiction #fanfiction

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ladygayfeels · 5 years

Text

Attention Fann(e)dom!

What better way to celebrate Pride Month than with that tear-jerking reunion, am I right? That’s right, the HBO finale has aired and was an utter delight! Now, however comes the daunting prospect of the hiatus until Season 2 starts filming/premieres.

(I don’t know about you, but after falling hard for Anne Lister & Ann Walker, I know that’s going to struggle with this long wait.)

That’s why I propose a monthly challenge in order to help pass the time, whilst also providing creators the chance to share their talents with us!

Fann(e)artists (see what I did there? 😏), fic writers, video-editors, are you musically gifted, whatever your gift is, I encourage you to create!

I’ve compiled a list of topics to choose from, so instead of having to stick to a certain thing each month, you can mix and match as you please. I do just ask that any and all creations be tagged under the hashtag #GJChallenge as it’ll be an easier place to find all submissions involved and therefore reach a wider audience.

Each month I’m going to - hopefully - post one or more fics, as I myself am a writer, and I’d be absolutely delighted for any and all of you to participate!

If you read a fic and enjoy it, leave a comment and spread some love! If you watch a fann(e)made (sorry it’s just too easy😏) video, share it and spread the love! If you see a drawing, a sketch, a painting or are an artist like our dear Ann Walker, herself, then - I think you know where I’m going with this people - give credit to the artist and (ask before) sharing it!

Below is a list of topics and also 100 lines of dialogue to inspire each piece, (taken from this post ). You can choose a specific one to create more than once, or skip some altogether, it’s entirely up to you. Or if you’re really up for the challenge, pair a topic with a line of dialogue and totally blow our minds!

Topics ~

1) Home

2) Regret

3) Peace

4) Dance

5) Mistake

6) Secrets

7) Reflection

8) Honesty

9) Anger

10) Love

11) Acceptance

12) Revelation

13) Forgiveness

14) Celebration

15) Friendship

16) Uncertainty

17) Light

18) Family

19) Trust

20) Commitment

21) Hardships

22) Sunset

23) Beauty

24) Memories

25) New Beginnings

26) Vacation

27) Nature

28) Happiness

29) Comfort

30) Bitterness

31) Endings

Lines of Dialogue ~

1. “Do you want me to leave?”

2. “I swear it won’t happen again.”

3. “I’m not jealous.”

4. “You can’t keep doing this.”

5. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

6. “You can’t die. Please don’t die.”

7. “You did what?!”

8. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

9. “Don’t ask me that.”

10. “I might have had a few shots.”

11. “What’s with the box?”

12. “Say it!”

13. “I could kiss you right now!”

14. “Are you done with that?”

15. “Are you still awake…?”

16. “Excuse you?”

17. “This is all your fault!”

18. “I shouldn’t be in love with you.”

19. “I could kill you right now!”

20. “Just admit I’m right.”

21. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

22. “That’s irrational.”

23. “Just pretend to be my date.”

24. “Are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”

25. “When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!”

26. “I think I’ve been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again.”

27. “I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore.”

28. “That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.”

29. “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.”

31. “You weren’t supposed to laugh!”

32. “This is, by far, the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

33. “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

34. “These stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes.”

35. “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.”

36. “Did I say that out loud?”

37. “Do you think they could have loved me?”

38. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

39. “How long have you been standing there?”

40. “Have I ever lied to you?”

41. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

42. “His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.”

43. “I am not losing you again!”

44. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

45. “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

46. “I just need to be alone right now.”

47. “When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.”

48. “I made a mistake.”

49. “I may be an idiot, but I’m your idiot.”

50. “I need you to forgive me.”

51. “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.”

52. “I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.”

53. “I’m flirting with you.”

54. “I’m not good enough for you.”

55. “I fell in love with my best friend.”

56. “I’m sorry, what? I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

57. “I’m up to the challenge.”

58. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.”

59. “I’m yours.”

60. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

61. “If you go anywhere near them, you’ll have to deal with me!”

62. “It’s okay to cry…”

63. “What do you mean? It’s exciting!”

64. “Talk to me.”

65. “Look at me—just breathe, okay?”

66. “Look, I don’t have much time, but I wanted to say I love you.”

67. “Oh my god! You’re in love with them!”

68. “Well, this is where I live.”

69. “We finish it the same way we started—together.”

70. “What are you afraid of?”

71. “You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me.”

72. “You deserve so much better.”

73. “You don’t have to stay.”

74. “You don’t know you the way I do.”

75. “You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

76. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

77. “You shouldn’t have even been there!”

78. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

79. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

80. “Teach me?”

81. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?”

82. “Looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.”

83. “Just once.”

84. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

85. “It’s not what it looks like.”

86. “I got you a present.”

87. “Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

88. “See, now, what that so bad?”.”

89. “You’re the best part of me.”

90. “I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you.”

91. “Can I hold your hand?”

92. “Let’s move in together.”

93. “It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.”

94. “What time is it?”

95. “Just wait a second.”

96. “Here, let me.”

97. “You’re so cute when you pout like that.”

98. “Hold me back!’

99. “I don’t care what they said, it doesn’t mean shit!”

100. “I adore you.”

#GJChallenge #Gentleman Jack #Anne x Ann #Anne Lister #Ann Walker #Gentleman Jack Prompts #Fann(e)dom #Sophie Rundle #Suranne Jones #Gemma Whelan #Gemma Jones #Timothy West #Rosie Cavaliero #Katherine Kelly #Sally Wainwright #Helena Whitbread #HBO #BBC One #O'Hooley and Tidow

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cchellacat · 6 years

Text

Fornication (part 4 of It’s Not A Cuddle)

Love All The Marvel Ships Challenge

Day Eighteen ~ Fighting Side By Side

The rain was coming down hard and fast, sheets of water reducing the already terrible visibility even more. The sun had set hours ago but the sound of guns and rockets continued, now mixing with the crashing of the thunder in the skies above.

They’d been pinned down in the trench for most of the day. The German tanks blocking off their only escape route back to where the allied lines had reformed. The 107th was in trouble. They all knew it. Knew that even if they survived much longer, the way things were going, the way the Germans were successfully pushing back their lines that by the time help might come, they’d either be dead or captured.

He sat with his back against the wall of mud and dirt trying not to look too closely at the puddles of dark liquid filling the base of the trench. In the back of his mind he was screaming in horror and revulsion. How many of his fellows had been killed today? How many comrades in arms, men he had come to call friends had he watched die? Blown apart by shelling or just brutally cut to ribbons by the tank guns.

Bucky flicked his lighter absently, staring at the flame as it flickered and died with a sputter in the wet air. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore, if death perhaps wouldn’t be a kindness, just to escape this hell he was living in. The Catholic in him raged against the notion of death by design but the practical man in him considered it. It would be so easy to step out into the no man’s land and just let it happen. No more running. No more hiding, like rats in a damn maze, being pushed further and further from safety into whatever trap the enemy had concocted for them.

Impossible as it seemed, it grew darker still, the rain continuing to fall, the sky throwing the occasional strike of lightening accompanied by the deafening roar of thunder. That’s when it happens, the sky above him cracks open, a whirling blaze of white striking down just yards away. At first, he can’t see a thing, the light has almost blinded him. Unlike the others who are quickly running from the sudden strike he stays put, too stunned at the event to do more than blink.

That’s when he hears them. Americans from their accents. A woman and a man.

“What the hell was that? I swear to Thor I am going to kill Jane! What was she thinking tinkering around with the Bifrost like that?”

“Calm down Doll, it’ll be fine. You know she never messes up for long, we’ll be back before we know it.”

“This was meant to be a nice vacation, a little trip to Xandar, meet up with Rocket for that pod race and go on a tiny little adventure with the Guardians. Instead we get rain and mud and….. Oh My Disney, fucking hell pugs!”

“Shit, Darcy, get down now, and keep quiet.” The mans voice dropped into a low growl and he could just make out the sound of gun being drawn and the wet sound of two bodies hitting dirt.

He stays put even as they crawl towards where he’s waiting, curious to see who the fuck has fallen outta the sky, because it’s the only explanation he can come up with for their sudden appearance.

A moment later a curvy body is dropped into his lap and he catches her without thought, a second later, a large form drops into the trench beside him. In the darkness he can’t make out their features but the girl squirming in his arms elbows him sharply in the ribs.

“Quit wriggling sweetheart or I’ll drop you in the mud.” He tells her caustically. There’s a sharp intake of breath and she locks up tight, every line of her hard and still.

“You drop me in it and you’ll be sleeping on the couch for a month Barnes.” She hisses at him, digging tiny fingers into his shoulder.

It’s his turn to go still. How the hell does she know his name.

“Because we married her, Punk.”

Up close the man flicks a lighter and Bucky gapes as he is suddenly confronted by his own face looking back at him.

“What to hell is going on?”

The girl wiggles again and in his effort not to drop her his hand slips from her waist, up until he feels the soft brush of the underside of her bust.

“Classy Barnes, I should have known this version of you would cop a feel the first go round too.”

“I was not copping a feel Darcy, I was getting us both out of a bad situation.” The way he says it is fondly acerbic, like this is some running gag only they know the full story too.

“You still ended up with both hands on my ass.” She slings back, the feeling that this is a much-replayed argument increases. Since said ass is currently sitting on his thighs, he’s not sure he can blame the other guy for feeling her up, it’s a great ass.

“Pretty sure you weren’t complaining at the time Sugar.” The amused huff this draws from her pushes her softness more firmly into his hand and he quickly drops it back to her waist.

In the flickering light of the of the zippo he watches incredulous as the two bicker like and old married couple.

“We are an old married couple. I’m old and she’s married.”

“Yeah, married to you, you mook!” Bucky tries to ignore the way she’s snuggling into him now, not sure whether he should be offended by her sassy comeback to his doppleganger.

“Can you read minds?” He asks as he stares at the man with his face.

“Don’t be an idiot, of course I can’t read minds, I’m you, I remember this.”

The dame, Darcy, finally makes a grabby motion towards his counterpart and he lifts her away from Bucky and onto his own knee. Bucky lets her go with numb fingers.

Darcy flutters her hand at him in greeting. “Hi, I’m Darcy, sorry about dropping on you like that, but Barnesy here just tossed me in, guess he knew you were there. Speaking of knowing things, what the fuck babe, why didn’t you tell me about this?”

The guy shrugs and settles her more firmly in his lap rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on her thigh. Completely ignoring him and focusing instead on his girl.

“Was never really sure how good my memory of this was, seemed a bit trippy at the time, thought I’d hit my head or something.”

“When are we anyway?” There’s an undercurrent of something in her tone, like she’s asking something else along with it.

“Somewhere in Italy, 1943 a few days before Azzano.” The answer given is less teasing and more serious than those before and the two share a look of understanding as she nods before brightening up again.

“Shit, is this going to mess anything up?”

Bucky wonders how anything can be more messed up than this, trapped in a trench, a few hundred feet away from certain death.

“It’ll be fine Doll, it’s just the Germans.” He tells her with a tight grin. She rolls her eyes at him and sticks her tongue out.

Bucky stares at them, at himself, more specifically, with utter astonishment.

“Just the Germans? What the hell is wrong with you?”

They both look at him then, her with a guilty sorrow and him with a grim shrug.

“Chill my dude, I can totes give you some cuddles if you’re feeling upset.”

The way her eyes regard him make him uncomfortable, part of him thinks he would like nothing more than to take her up on the offer.

“Darcy gives the best cuddles.” His counterpart shares conspiratorially.

“Yes, I do!” Lifting her chin with pride in her statement leaves him with the urge to laugh. The playful air is back between the two now and all Bucky can do is watch as the two start making faces at each other.

“Are you two fucking insane?” If he could, he would have shouted it.

“Jury’s still out.” He’s told in a teasing manner. “But considering they found me not guilty on grounds of diminished responsibility I guess it’s possible.”

She’s quick to cut in again, ready in an instant to poke fun. “Oh shut up, there’s not a piece of you that’s diminished in any way!”

Bucky just stares. It’s finally happened, he’s flipped, had a screw loose, gone crazy, nut’s, insane, was no long in possession of his faculties, turned wako!

He begins to wheeze, hysterical laughter bubbling up.

“I’ve lost it, I’m losing my mind, I’ve finally cracked…”

The dame looks at him with a little concern and makes a shushing motion as his voice rises.

“Don’t worry Buckeroo, this will all be over before you know it.” She attempts to comfort him.

“You still got your taser Doll?”

“Sure I do, there’s four charges left in it, why?”

“Might have to knock him out if doesn’t calm down.” He drawls mockingly before frowning. “Wait, who did you tase today? What did I miss?”

“Who do you think?”

“Steve? What did he do this time?”

“He was laughing.”

“Again?”

“It’s bat shit crazy pants, I swear, ever since he and Carter came back from Russia he keeps smiling.”

“Better than the permeant scowl he’s had on his face since we met.”

“Yeah, nope. It’s unnatural is what it is. Rogers has always had a stick up his butt.”

“I Know, I’ve been a little concerned too about the sudden change, but did you have to tase him?”

“He was freaking me out!”

“Twice?”

“He was cackling…. And he winked at me”

“…………..”

“Wait, Steve Rogers?” Bucky pipes up, wondering if they’re talking about his friend.

“You know any other Steve’s?” Darcy asks with an eye roll.

“Who are you people?”

“We already told you, he’s you and I’m your wife….. we’re from the future.” She turns back to his counterpart and batts her eyes. “Aww Barnesy, you were super cute at this age! I just want to pinch your cheeks.”

“You do that and I’ll pinch your cheeks Doll-face” He tells her, running a hand over the curve of her ass threateningly as she giggles.

A loud explosion nearby has them all go quiet and he feels a stab of fear not for himself this time, but for the dame wrapped up in his future self’s arms.

Older him cocks his head to one side and gives him a considering look.

“You’ve got one job mini me, look after our Doll. Don’t fuck it up!” Then he finds himself with an armful of the dame again as he watches himself leave.

She pulls his head down to whisper to him as they try to stay quiet.

“Just so you know, you are getting shit for this stunt when we get home.”

“I didn’t do anything!” He exclaims lowly, while digging around in his pocket for the zippo since his other self has taken off with his.

“Don’t.” she tells him, placing her hand over his. “We’ll give away out position with the light. It’s why you’ve run off right now. I know you, you wouldn’t leave me behind unless there was a threat needing taking care of.”

He reluctantly repockets the lighter and tries to distract himself from how nice it feels to have her weight back in his lap. She’s a tiny little thing and strong too from the feel of her, but she has generous curves in all the right places and she smells like apples. When she tucks her head under his chin he relaxes a little and pulls her in close. The tiny snort he hears tells him she’s holding back from making a comment. He almost says something, but the noise of three sets of booted feet jumping into the trench a little way down stops him.

“Shit, I think we’ve got company.”

She motions for him to put her down which he does with reluctance, but she’s right, if they’ve got enemies incoming he has to be able to fight, he grabs his rifle as she settles into a crouch beside him, pulling out an odd looking device from a holster on her waist.

Three men come upon them then, pointing guns. Bucky gets ready to defend them, bringing up his rifle. It’s short and bloody, he kills the first, but before he can get the second one, Darcy pulls the trigger on her little device and it shoots out a tiny metal projectile that digs into the skin on the soldiers neck, lighting up a little as he gurgles and drops, eyes growing glassy. Then she does the same to the second. Stunned, he watches as this one too, drops down dead. Before he can say anything, there’s a noise behind him and he swings the gun round, firing immediately. Another four German soldier have snuck up on them. The gun jams and he goes for his knife, throwing himself in front of the gun another enemy is bringing to bare on Darcy. Using him as cover, she shoots the one behind with her taser? Bucky makes quick work of the soldier he tackled and they both turn as one on the last enemy. He’s not sure who took him down first. Her or him, he falls to the ground dead, a knife lodged in his throat and the smell of ozone from the electrical device Darcy used filling the air.

They stand there panting, truthfully he thinks he’s the one more shaken by the sudden ambush. He acts out of desperation and pulls her into his arms, running his hands over her body, checking for injuries. She stands patently as though it’s nothing more than she would expect and when he’s satisfied she’s not hurt he wraps her against his chest and clings to her, burying his face In her hair and breathing in the scent of apples.

“Barnes…… are you cuddling me?”

“It’s not a fucking cuddle Doll.” He tells her stubbornly, his face still pressed into her hair.

“Lewis.”

“What?”

“When you do this, you say ‘S’not a cuddle Lewis.’. Lewis is my maiden name.”

“I do this a lot?” He asks sceptically.

She tips her head back and looks up at him.

“I really hope you remember this later…”

Darcy surges up and captures his lips in a hard, desperate kiss. At first he doesn’t know what to do, well he does, but he’s too shocked by the suddenness to do anything more than freeze.

It’s the look on her face that does it to him. He’s known her for all of maybe an hour, not once in all that time, has she looked anything more than strong and confident. But she’s still in his arms, her face now looking up at him half apologetic, half embarrassed and he can see clear as day the tiny sliver of hurt, of rejection in her eyes. It hurts him, deep in a place he didn’t know was still capable of feeling, it hurt.

He stares into her eyes and brings his hand up to cup her jaw, brushing his thumb under her eye and catching the tear that’s forming before it can fall. Then his lips are crashing into hers, it’s messy and hungry and urgent. All he can feel is her, pliant and willing as she encourages him, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging on the ends. He’s losing himself in her with each moan and whimper, his hands traveling over her body, pulling her in and then her hands are moving down, pulling his hips to grind into her and it’s him that gasps and suddenly this is more than just a kiss. There is a desire, a longing for more.

“Fuck… tell me stop Darcy, tell me to stop.” He whispers brokenly into her mouth.

“I want this too…. Please, I need you…. Don’t stop…”

He’s too gone to care as he lifts her and steps over the bodies of dead men, down the narrow trench until they find a dugout where the officers had worked. He has her inside quickly, pulling off his coat and laying it on the rickety table. She doesn’t protest as he lifts her up so she sits on the edge, she just invites him close, legs opening to him so he can push his hips flush with hers as they kiss eagerly, hands pulling at clothes, till they could touch each other’s skin. He grinds his hardness into the heat between her thighs, rutting into her as she shudders with each press.

There’s no finesse to it, no delicacy, just desperate desire and need driving them both. His shirt open as she kisses and licks at his chest, her teeth scraping and nipping. He’s never felt so much want for a woman before in his life. She kicks off her shoes, and loses no time in helping him pull her legging off, her hands reaching for his belt and making short work of unbuckling it.

Darcy doesn’t stop to think about what they’re about to do, only knows that she needs him, right now. She opens his trousers, shoving them and his boxers down far enough that she can take him in her hand, he’s hard and thick. The noise he makes as she strokes him firmly, twisting a finger over the head of his cock sends a flood of wetness from her core. His hands find their way between her legs, long fingers, sweeping between her folds and gathering the wetness, spreading it up until he finds her clit, carefully sliding over the swollen nub in tiny circles. She can’t think, pushing herself into his hand, needing more, inner muscles clutching uselessly as the ache builds and builds.

“I need you inside me….now.” It’s a command, one he’s happy to follow.

She guides him to her entrance and he sinks inside her slowly, his girth stretching her out, filling her, driving away the agonising ache. When he’s bottomed out, he stills above her and she wraps her arms around his shoulders as he rests her head against hers. Their eyes lock and she shudders at the raw emotion and need in them. She clenches around him and closes her eyes, unable to see the naked desperation there, he pulls back before slamming into her, she cries out at the surge of pleasure dancing up her spine, moving her hips to meet his as he angles his cock to drag against her clit. She digs her heels into his ass, as he sets a punishing rhythm, with each stoke he pushes deeper until all she can feel is him, deep inside her. She feels like he’s trying to leave his imprint behind.

“Look at me Doll, I want to see it, I want to see you fall apart.”

Darcy does as he asks, drowning in his eyes as he continues to thrust within her.

He wants to watch her come undone, she urges him on with her cries, his name a prayer on her lips as she tightens around him, he knows she close’s and he wont let go till she does, he wants to come inside her with her clenching around him. Wants them to die the little death together as they fuck each other back to life, a reminder that they didn’t die tonight. A memory for him to carry of this tantalising promise of a future they will share one day.

She’s right on the edge, he can feel it as her belly clenches and her legs tremble, on his next thrust he changes the angle, impaling her as she shatters, his name shouted brokenly into his neck. The feel of her walls clamping down drives him to his own peak and he surrenders to the pleasure, cock twitching violently as he fills her. She flutters around him, milking every drop, back arched, pulling him impossibly deeper. Her eyes are blown wide in bliss as he continues to rock against her, riding out the wave of orgasm. He kisses her softly, infusing as much feeling as he can into it. They don’t let go, continuing to cling to each other, he feels safe there, cradled between her hips. This feels like salvation, hope.

“I love you.” The softest whisper comes from her lips and he clutches her in close, bodies completely entwined, unable to say what he feels, unable to put it into words.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to say it back.”

The reassurance in her tone doesn’t make him feel guilty as he thinks it should. He doesn’t want to leave her warmth, but they can’t stay like this forever. He eases out of her, choking back a sob at the loss. Darcy runs soothing hands over his arms and helps him re dress. He helps her too as she slips back into her clothes, kneeling down to slide her shoes back on while she stayes perched on the table he just fucked her on. Part of him feels ashamed for taking her like that, fast and hard in a dirty hole in the ground. She deserves better than that.

He’s still shaking from the adrenalin when he sits down on a low bench, near breathless from everything, the fight, the fucking… the words she’s said.

Darcy climbs onto his lap and he folds her into an embrace, holding her carefully, like the treasure he knows she is.

“Now this is a fucking cuddle.” He tells her with the barest hint of amusement, letting her tinkling laugh wash over him as they both calm down.

It’s near dawn when his counterpart shows up, covered in mud and blood and tells them it’s time to go.

He leads them back to where the light first struck last night, on the ground are glowing markings in a circle. They seem to brighten as they get closer. Darcy runs ahead a little, running round the emblem, inspecting it.

“There’s a safe line back towards last base now. I took out four tanks last night and two battalions. You can get your men back to Azzano safely.”

“How the hell…”

“Don’t ask.” He tells him shortly. “You got her for one night. Don’t forget it, you’re going to need that memory, it’s exactly the promise you think it is. And when you find her again? Pick her up and run.”

“Pick her up and run?”

“You know what she is to us.”

“She’s ours.”

“Just as much as we are hers. Take her and run and never look back, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Everything that happens, she makes it worth it.”

Bucky swallows thickly. The future looks a little less bright than it did. Figures, there’s nothing that comes for free in this life, it’s all bought with blood and pain.

Darcy darts up and hugs him, kissing him quickly with a shy smile and he squeezes her hand.

“I can’t wait to meet you Doll.”

Darcy grins at him and then joins his other self on the glowing marks.

“Hey! Bucky, it’s Lewis, Darcy Lewis, don’t forget me for too long!”

Then the sky opens up again and the whirl of colour whisks them away as though they were never there.

Bucky waits a few minutes, watching as the marks burned into the ground fade and are consumed by the mud. Then he walks away, back to find what’s left of his men and lead them back towards Azzano.

@captain-rogers-beard

#love all the marvel ships #love all the marvel ships challenge #wintershock #bucky/darcy #darcy/bucky #lemons #it's not a cuddle

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no-i-didnt-notice-im-short · 6 years

Note

Prompt if you want to do it but don’t force yourself: Lance (or any other character) having everyone forget their birthday, sorry I’m just a bit of a sucker for those. Love ya blog by the way ✌️✌️

Hey! Sorry it took me so long to write this!

Hope you like it ❤

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY LANCE!!” His mother all but yelledcompletely waking him up from his deep slumber. He usually didn’t sleep in tillthis hour, but he has been pulling all-nighters the past whole week trying tofinish his assignments, even though it was summer vacation. Those assignmentswere going to determine if he will be in Fighter or Cargo pilot. As till nowhis title was only Pilot.

His 4 older siblings filed into his room with theirfather standing next to his mother, who was holding the cake with the design ofa beach on it, her smile was so wide that her lips almost touched her hair line.

It was his 17th birthday, the last one beforehe was legally declared an adult, which wouldn’t mean much to his familyconsidering he was the youngest and will always be the spoiled one. Not thatanyone minded, his siblings loved him and he loved them. There was neveranimosity about the whole issue.

Lance sat up straight, grinning as he looked around theroom at his family. He will miss them so much when he leaves for Garrison thisyear, possibly more than before. There was something about the upcoming schoolyear that was giving him bad vibes but he pushed it to the back of his mind sohe could enjoy his birthday.

Being the youngest in the McClain household meant thatyour birthday was a national holiday. Anyone who worked would take a day offand since it was already summer vacation everyone would be free to celebrate.

His birthday routine was the sameevery year. The one thing that never changed so he always looked forward to it.It starts off with his family waking him up with a cake (he would have hisalarm off that specific day so he is completely surprised by his family), whichthey then take down to the beach for a small family party, which then turns into lunchat the nearest Shake Shack in the evening and then roller skating with hisfriends at night.

His wish every year? That this never change.

Lance woke up feeling like shit.

Last night Keith kicked his ass in training and he was nowdealing with the aftermath. He shoulders felt like they were wrapped in cotton fromthe inside, which would’ve felt good if it didn’t make moving them so damnhard. His brain felt like it would explode under the pounding headache he seemsto be experiencing. He tried to push the covers off himself but his thighs feellike they were on fire. So he settled into subtly sliding off his bed.

Thiswould’ve worked if the alarms didn’t suddenly blare up causing him to fall off thebed and up his headache tenfold.

Despite his protesting body, he got up and wore his armor.

He ran, tearfully so, to the bridge to see what was going onand was surprised to see Allura standing there with what looks to be stopwatchand an annoyed look on her face.

“If this was a real alarm, you would have killed Voltron.”

Lance went pale as he looked around and noticed thateveryone was there before him.

“You don’t even have your bayard.” Pidge retorted.

He wore his armor in such a hurry he didn’t even registerwhat he was doing. It was all muscle memory.

Allura hadn’t made a pseudo alarm in months, he simply forgot they were a thing.

“Sorry. Long training session yesterday.”

“No it wasn’t.” Keith said, amused “I mean sure I kickedyour ass, but that happens every time.”

“Keith is right Lance. Keith was training with you and yethe was one of the firsts to reach the bridge. After Shiro of course.”

Lance decided that if he talked back it would turn into anargument. His head pounded just thinking about it.

“Sorry.” Lance said as he went to sit in his place.

“Well, now that everyone is here.” Shiro clapped his handsonce to grab everyone’s attention. No one noticed Lance’s wince at the sound. “Letus all go and have breakfast so we can start today’s training.”

Lance stalked behind everyone while massaging his templestrying to ease the pain. At this point, Lance was sure soon this is going to becomea migraine if he didn’t do something about it. He hadn’t had a migraine in solong, he almost forgot what they felt like.

He sat down next to Hunk, who shot him a worried look butsaid nothing. Everyone dug in to the equivalent of pancakes they had stacked in the middle of the table. The conversation ranged in topics but none caughtLance’s attention forcing him to be quiet and stare at his plate.

He nibbled at his pancakes, convincing Hunk he ate as to notdraw attention to himself. He stood up to leave to his room just as Shiro said,“C’mon guys. Clean up and meet me in training room in 15 minutes.”

“Actually Shiro, I was wondering if I could skip today’straining. I don’t think I feel well.” Lance internally cringed at how small hisvoice came out.

“Is it serious?” Shiro said. Lance could decipher the lookShiro was giving him. “Because we really have to do some group training, we haven’tin a while. So if you could manage today, then please don’t skip.”

Lance knew Shiro was concerned and didn’t mean to guiltLance into staying as he didn’t know about Lance’s intrusive thoughts and insecurities about always not being good enough for the Blue Paladin mantel.

“Nevermind, it’s not. I can handle it.” Lance said, faking hisupbeat voice while trying to forget about his upcoming migraine. “Catch youguys at the training room.”

Lance went out of the kitchen to get away from the noise. Hestarted thinking about the possible reasons for this incredible bad attitude heseemed to have; He usually had an alarm set early in the morning where he wouldtake a hot shower before the day starts to ease his muscles into a long day.

He took out his phone and looked at the his clock settingsto see that the alarm was switched off. Weird. Lance thought. He lookedaround more and found the reason. His blood ran cold as he looked at the date. 28thof July. How could it be his birthday already? And better yet, why has noone said anything?

He wouldn’t have made a big deal about it, since they were in space and all, if it wasn’t forthe fact that they celebrated Pidge’s birthday a couple months ago and eventhrew a small party for Shiro before as he hated big celebrations. Lance madeit his mission to know what everyone liked so he wouldn’t do something that mightmake them uncomfortable.

This all just proves that they kept track of the dates. So theothers should’ve known it was Lance’s birthday. He remembers mentioning it many times. He didn’t remember himselfas he always tends to not think about it as to not ruin any possible surprises anyone might have planned. Itwas what he did back home and just kept doing it in space.

If he felt like shit before, this was a whole new level offuck-shit-ory of feelings setting in his stomach. They didn’t care. Why wouldthey? Lance has been the one to make all the effort in getting to know histeammates. The others put effort too, just not with Lance.

He reached the training room the same time as Hunk.

“Hey buddy.” Hunk waved at Lance. “You don’t look so good. Didyou sleep last night?”

“What?… Oh yeah. I did. Thanks for asking, Hunk” Lancestayed where he was, giving Hunk a chance to notice that Yes.Something is wrong.

“Well in that case. C’mon! Lets kick Keith’s butt!” Hunksaid.

“Yeah!!” Pidge yelled from the other side of the room. Godknows how she even heard what they said as she had her headsets on.

Lance walked behind them whilekeeping a forced smile as to not show how much this actually hurt him.

He didn’t make it two minutes in the simulation before he receiveda major kick and decided to excuse himself to his room. He felt nauseous andthe new injury to his stomach certainly didn’t help. How could your head and stomachhurt at the same time?

He went to his room, locking the door behind him as hereally wanted to be alone right now, closed the lights as his eyes were becomingsensitive due to his headache and threw himself on his back on his bed andstared into the dark.

His mind drifted off to what he could be doing on hisbirthday if he was home. His family waking him up and going to the beach forthe party, lunch and then possibly a bar this time instead of roller skating.His siblings have told him ever since he was 16 that the year turns 18 they would be in Cuba so they could take him to a bar to have his first legaldrink.

He never felt as homesick as he did at that moment. What he wouldn’tgive to go back to his family just for a day to tell them how much he missed them,how much they truly meant to him and how, no matter how old he gets, he willalways be his mother’s little dolphin.

His curled in on himself and imagined the sounds of thewaves as he closed his eyes, which did nothing to stop his free-falling tear.

Maybe if he stayed in this position long enough, he will wake up onhis bed back on earth.

Got any prompts you’d like me to write?

Feelfree to drop by and send it ❤

#maybe part 2?#so sorry this is late and shit #langst #voltron #lance mcclain #hunk garrett #pidge gunderson #prompts #keith kogane #takashi shirogane #vld #my writings

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mysterious-playboy · 6 years

Text

Questions Tag 50-97

50 Do you get jealous easily?

I mean, I’ve calmed down a little but the answer is still yes.

51 What is your favourite type of food?

I like French food and I will eat almost any type of pizza. I really like Mexican food when I’m high.

52 Do you ever want to get married?

Definitely someday, maybe after I finish university. It would be a dysfunctional marriage, but at least there would be love.

53 Who was your first kiss with?

Overall? I’m really not sure...I think this girl in grade 4 that I had a crush on. My first kiss at Degrassi was Zoë.

54 Have you ever been cheated on?

Maybe a few times in prep school.

55 What is your idea of the perfect date?

Getting pleasantly high, eating food (preferably at a Mexican place), walking past the shops, and then driving home around midnight with the windows open while you feel the cool breeze and see everything all lit up with lights.

56 Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

Definitely an extrovert, but I can sometimes act like an introvert.

57 Do you believe in aliens or life on other planets?

I think it’s possible. We don’t even know everything about our own planet, so it’s definitely in the realm of possibility.

58 What talent do you wish you’d been born with?

I dunno..maybe being good at drawing?

59 What is your saddest memory?

The day before the fire and the day I was in the hospital.

60 Do you believe in love at first sight?

Not sure. I believe in lust at first sight and infatuation at first sight. I think love comes later.

61 Do you believe in soul mates?

Perhaps, perhaps not. Perhaps we have multiple soul mates, but they’re different kinds. Maybe my siblings are my soul mates but in a familial way, and Chewy and I are soulmates in a platonic way, and Esme and I are soulmates in a romantic way.

62 Have you ever dyed your hair?

I dyed my hair green once in prep school but it was more of a messy, DIY type thing than a permanent, professionally done thing.

63 Has someone ever spread a nasty rumour about you?

Oh yeah. Just ask Tristan. And look at @Bean_Block, @Bark__Obama and @BarkCrane’s Twitter pages. I would include Peep but he never spread rumours about me, only vague messages and goodnight tweets every five minutes.

64 Would you go against your moral code for money?

No, I don’t exactly need money. I guess if I was very poor I would.

65 What are three things most people don’t know about you?

1. I lived in the United States at one point

2. I’m mostly fluent in French

3. I have had multiple head injuries. Multiple is an understatement.

66 Who are you jealous of?

Grace Cardinal, people who had good childhoods and people who use healthy coping mechanisms.

67 Do you sleep with a stuffed toy?

No, but I did for a while when I was a kid. I had a stuffed dog named Brownie.

68 How long was your longest relationship?

Let’s see...Esme and I first got together in January 2016. There were a few short breakups but we were still a thing until July 2016, when I was “with” someone else (shudder). I got back together with her in January 2017 and we have been together since. So technically we’ve been together a year and 7 months, but we’ve really been together for 2 years and 7 months.

69 (YES I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS) Is the glass half empty or half full?

It really depends on my mood. I’d say half full sometimes and half empty other times.

70 What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?

Help me with my anxiety by distracting me and having me focus on them instead, knowing their way around construction tools and taking charge every now and then. Also, calling me daddy. ;)

71 Who is your most loyal friend?

Chewy. Always has been and always will be. And Frankie and Hunter, even though they’re my siblings.

72 Are you in a relationship?

Yes.

73 If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, what is your favourite thing about him/her?

Her hair, her smile, her outfits, her legs, her body, her eyes, her ability to calm me down, her intelligence, her affinity for cardigans, her stories, her confidence, her vulnerable side, her personality, her skills at getting away with committing small crimes.

74 Are you a bad person?

I don’t think I’m a bad person. I think most people are in-between good and bad, or they have the ability to be both depending on the situation. However, I’d say I’m a mostly good person who makes mistakes.

75 Are you a lover or a fighter?

Both.

76 What did you do on your last birthday?

I had breakfast with Esme, listened to music and sang to a bunch of songs with Franks and wrote poetry. It was the best birthday I’ve had.

77 What is your favourite quote and why?

“I don’t have a nervous system. I am a nervous system.”

78 What would you do if your best friend died?

I wouldn’t come out of my room for months and I would be really depressed.

79 If you had to go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?

TRIGGER WARNING:: I would never have kissed Tristan. Or even associated with him, for that matter.

80 If you only had 24 hours to live, what would you do?

I would smoke a lot of weed, have a lot of sex, listen to some good music, spend some time around trees relaxing, get my affairs in order, and see everyone that I love and say goodbye.

81 What is the strangest dream you’ve ever had?

That there was a giant Winnie the Pooh in the backyard of my childhood home and he stomped on the swing set and slide.

82 Are you happier single or in a relationship?

I suppose it depends, but for the most part in a relationship. If it was a boring, loveless, abusive relationship with no passion, single. If not, relationship.

83 Who were you in a past life?

A Beat Generation poet. I say this all the time. I was one of my generation’s best writers and friends with Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg and we traveled the country together and did a lot of drugs.

84 What is your happiest childhood memory?

I have a couple. Watching my favourite shows (The Koala Brothers, Max and Ruby) early in the morning, cheating with my siblings on this competition for catching fireflies, going to Disney with my family, watching all these strange and eclectic movies, and exploring the backyard of our second house.

85 Have you ever experienced unrequited love?

I’ve experienced unrequited like with this guy a while ago, but not love.

86 Have you ever had an imaginary friend?

I don’t think so.

87 If you were the prime minister, what would you do?

Ban Tristan Milligan from this country and banish him to outer space. Also, legalize weed.

88 What is your ideal career?

Being a writer.

89 What is your political affiliation?

I’d consider myself an Independent, but I lean more towards mild Democrat.

90 Are you conservative or liberal?

Neither since they are both too extreme for my tastes, but like I mentioned earlier, I’m more of a democrat.

91 Is the male or female body closest to perfection?

Both. Not a great question since I’m bisexual.

92 Do you like kissing in public?

I do.

93 If you could change one thing in the world, what would you change?

People’s attitudes towards bisexuality or the fact that Tristan is alive.

94 Where would you like to live?

I like where I currently live (Toronto) just fine, but if I had to pick another place I would maybe choose a place a bit more deserted with more nature and forest land, such as Saskatchewan.

95 Where would you go on your dream vacation?

I would travel Europe and Asia. Specifically, France, The Netherlands, Germany, Switzerland, Singapore, Japan and South Korea.

96 Describe yourself in one word.

Versatile.

97 Describe yourself in one sentence.

I am an impulsive bisexual with many contradicting traits, I enjoy writing poetry, and I love drugs, sex, my siblings, and my girlfriend.

#questions tag #thanks Franks

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seriouslyhooked · 7 years

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Some Call It Magic (A CS AU) Part 17/17

When Killian Jones moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he’s willing to overlook all the bizarre signs for one reason: the single Mum living next door to him. There’s only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she’s a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Story rated M.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16. Also On FF Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So I am back with the last official chapter of Some Call It Magic (though I do have an eventual epilogue crafted in my head already, so not to worry, the fluff is not completely over it will just take some time to get here). It picks up a few months after the last chapter and includes some of my favorite elements of CS happy endings that I have written many times before. I am sure some of you have guesses of what those might be, but nevertheless I hope that you all enjoy and thank you so much for reading!

Since landing here in Storybrooke all those years ago, Emma had grown accustomed to the seasons. The summers were warm but breezy, though a serious heat wave or two did show up once or twice. The autumn, her favorite time of year, was pure magic, but often over too soon thanks to their northern region’s propensity for the cold. And the winters… well they usually seemed to drag on forever. There were no mild March days, heck, there were usually still snow storms in April, but the long slog of winter had come and gone just as quickly as all the other seasons of late, and suddenly spring was here with the flowers and the sunlight and the renewed hope that life and vibrancy and joy were back within the natural world once more.

Of course Emma hadn’t lost any of that sense of warmth during her winter months, instead finding a comfort and a solace that she cherished more and more with every passing day. Things were good – no, things were fantastic – and they were only on their way to getting better. In a little over a month the day she and Killian had been waiting for what felt like forever for would be here. Their wedding was drawing closer and closer, and on the summer solstice (chosen specifically because Henry insisted it would bring good luck) Emma would be walking down an aisle dressed in white and saying ‘I do’ to the only man the world over who could ever entice her into such a life. She was ready for it too, more ready than she’d ever been for anything, and it was hard to find the patience for that next step, though the happiness that she and her kid and Killian had already found was the surest cure to her wishing for more. Things were damn near perfect in the Jones/Swan household and Emma truly appreciated just how lucky she was to have any of this at all.

“If you keep daydreaming like that I’m making you put a dollar in the jar.”

Ruby’s teasing voice cut in from across the kitchen and Emma grinned as she looked up from the cookie dough she’d been absentmindedly tossing together, not bothering to argue that she had been distracted. It was just so easy for her mind to wander towards how good things were, and if that meant Emma had to fork up a few extra bucks a day and put them in a jar that Ruby had designed so that they could raise the funds for them and all their friends to go on a trip next year, then so be it. As far as Emma could tell it was a win-win: she got to linger in the happiness that was her life and invest in a vacation for all their friends that had been years in the making.

“Didn’t I hear you on the phone earlier?” Emma asked with a knowing smirk. “You know technically the rules include stolen conversations with your husband as being jar worthy too.”

“Fair enough. We’ll call this one a draw,” Ruby acquiesced and Emma only laughed, glad for the humor of it all and the genuinely joyous fact that Emma wasn’t the only one with a happily ever after to keep her occupied. All of her friends had found loves to hold and keep forever and that was a special thing indeed. “That being said your time is up, Ems, and Mary Margaret is adamant that we get our asses out there. Also apparently if we fail to bring chocolate cake there will be hell to pay.”

“What else is new?” Emma joked as she grabbed the treat for their weekly lunch and followed Ruby out into the café. Little did she know that this gathering was about to reveal quite a few new things all at once.

“Wait, so Will is moving here? Just like that?” Ruby asked, playing up her shock when Emma knew she was anything but. Everyone had seen how swiftly the connection had formed between Killian’s friend and Belle over the Christmas holiday and in the months following. It was just a matter of time before one of them relocated, and since Belle had always loved this town and her friends and family here, Emma had never imagined that she would be the one to leave.

“Yeah, just like that,” Belle said with a cheerful smile. “Can you believe it?”

The friends all agreed that they could and offered their congratulations to Belle. Emma was actually even more excited if it was possible, not just because Belle had found her special someone, but because this meant that the last piece of Killian’s old life that he really valued would be coming back into place. Having Will in Storybrooke would no doubt be a comfort to him, and now that she thought about it, Emma doubted there was any way Killian hadn’t already known his friend’s intention. She made a mental note to ask him about that later, but then Elsa had some news of her own to share which distracted Emma from the personal musings.

“I’m going to ask Liam to marry me,” Elsa blurted out before anyone else could fill the silence, and at the proclamation and all the friends’ jaw’s dropped. They were each of them stunned into silence, a rare state for most of them, and it was obvious to Elsa that she’d truly surprised them all with her intentions. “What? I love him guys, you know that.”

“We do, Elsa, and he loves you too,” Emma said, finding her words first and trying to soothe the anxiety that their collective shock had sparked for Elsa. “We’re just surprised. Are you sure you want to be the one to ask? If Liam is anything like his brother – which we both know he is – then he’ll have it all planned. It’ll be perfect.” The other friends nodded their agreement but Elsa just sighed.

“I know, I just… I don’t know. I don’t want to wait anymore. All this talk of Emma’s wedding has just made it more and more clear to me that I want that too. So why wait? Anything could happen, so why waste time when we know it’s right?”

“You’re right, Elsa,” Belle agreed, taking her hand in a supportive gesture. “If this is what your heart is telling you to do then you should do it.”

Everyone else agreed with the assessment but there was one noticeable silence in the group and it came from a source usually filled with commentary, especially when it came to Elsa’s love life: Anna was currently sitting there fidgeting in her chair and avoiding the eyes of everyone, but most noticeably Elsa, and if that wasn’t a dead give away that something was afoot Emma didn’t know what was.

“Anna?” Elsa asked and Anna let out a flustered sigh before the walls she’d had up came crashing down and her words came flooding out.

“Oh God I swore I wouldn’t say anything, because Liam wants things to be a surprise, but if you ask him then it will mess things up and you really don’t want to mess this up, Elsa. He told me his idea and it’s like the story Mom and Dad used to tell us about Dad’s proposal only somehow sweeter. Trust me, sis, just a little more patience. If you can wait – oh sheesh, well I guess I’m giving it all away anyway. He’s proposing tonight. There I said it.”

All of the reactions of the friends ranged at that point, with Mary Margaret falling victim to those happy tears she was famous for and Ruby laughing boisterously as she claimed that she ‘knew’ there as no way that Liam wouldn’t be the one to ask. Meanwhile Elsa looked like she was walking on air, her smile was so wide and then she was standing up, probably on her way to go look for Liam when Emma pulled her back down.

“Not so fast, girl. This isn’t the kind of thing you want to rush. Let me send Killian a text. He’ll know every detail I’m sure, and we can maybe tell him to get a move on without totally giving away that you’re in the know now.”

“Thank you Emma,” Elsa said gratefully as Emma smiled and sent the text, hoping Killian would give her good news to give Elsa.

“Wow, so this is kind of a big day? Anyone else got any other announcements. Now’s your time,” Anna joked and at the same time Mary Margaret and Ruby began speaking, then they laughed and both told the other they should go first. In the end it was Mary Margaret who shared her news first.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, looking happier than she’d ever been and all of the friends burst with their excitement. For over a year she and David had been trying, and there were a few times when Emma had thought perhaps the stars were aligning and Mary Margaret was getting her wish, but to hear that she was really getting it now meant so much to every friend there. For Ruby, however, there was a different kind of reaction as she gawked for a moment before sharing her own news, which was that she too was expecting. One baby was one thing, but two new additions on the way left all of the friends completely floored and then all freaking out at once.

“Holy crap, seriously?!” Belle asked as her hands clapped together. “That’s amazing!”

“It really is,” Elsa agreed with just as much happiness as she’d shown at her own incoming proposal. “But you guys being pregnant at the same time? I mean, what are the odds?”

“Well I’m thinking they were better than normal since I made it my New Year’s wish at the ceremony,” Ruby admitted, reminding them all of the protective spell they’d placed on the town and the people they loved as the new year rang in.

All of them had participated in the new year ritual as they always did, but their usual goal of protecting the town and its citizens then ended with each of them offering one silent wish of their own as well. Now, all these months later, it turned out some of those dreams were coming true. In fact, it turned out that Mary Margaret had made the same wish, Elsa had wished to marry Liam, Anna had wished to see her sister as happy in love as she was with Kristoff, and Belle had wished for a way forward with Will. The coincidence was too much, but then everyone looked to Emma expectantly wondering what she wished for.

“So, what was it Emma?” Ruby prodded and Emma shrugged.

“I just wished that we’d all be happy and healthy and safe. I feel like I already have so much, I didn’t really think to ask for anything more.”

As she said the words though, Emma remembered one small part of her wish that had seemed almost trivial at the time. In the little fantasy that had played out in her head, the one where she and Killian were together with Henry as a family, it hadn’t been her house that they were living in. It was the big yellow Victorian not too far from the center of town that had long been a favorite of hers. Maybe it was silly, but she’d always pictured that as the setting for a perfect kind of living. She’d never been able to justify trying to live there if it was just her and Henry, and the owners had never given any indication that they were looking to sell, but now that Killian was a part of this family too and there was a chance that someday their family might grow, Emma couldn’t help but picture it and want to know if maybe the magic of the new year had blessed her over too.

Standing suddenly, Emma offered an apologetic look to her friends and said she’d be back after she went to check on something, and as they looked after her Emma moved through the door of Stay a Spell and headed off towards the house in question. It wasn’t a long walk by any means, but Emma felt this charge of energy coursing through her and she didn’t know if it was hope or anticipation that was getting the best of her, but she knew in her heart she had to come here. Maybe if she spoke to the current owners and just mentioned that she’d be willing to buy if ever they were looking to sell it would ease this sudden want in her, but as she turned the corner and her eyes fell on the house, the initial calm that it inspired was crushed by the sight of a big and bold SOLD sign out front.

“I’m too late,” Emma whispered and her stomach sank as the hope she’d just been feeling faded away.

Standing in front of this place that had long been a cornerstone of her secret dreams for a future life, Emma couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that came. She shook it away as best she could, knowing that it would never matter where they were, as long as she and Henry and Killian were together that would be the perfect home. Still, if ever there were a place to spend forever, to share a life, to raise a family… well this was the fantasy, and it had been for Emma for years now. Giving that up, even if it had never really been hers to begin with, was harder than she expected. All she could hope at this point was that the new owners would treat this place with the love and care that it deserved. Emma hoped this house held the happiness she’d always pictured here, and then she accepted the fact that next time, if a dream like this presented itself, she’d have to strike faster or risk losing out once more.

As that idea of letting this home go began to settle, however, Emma watched the front door of the house open up and two people exited onto the expansive front porch. To say they were the last two people she would have ever expected was an understatement, and then a prickling feeling of almost-awareness moved through her. Killian and Henry weren’t here by coincidence. Something was up with those two, and where they’d teamed up in the past, Emma had only ever found the most beautiful, thoughtful, and glorious results.

“Oh shoot,” Henry said a second later as he descended the front steps of the house and made his way to Emma’s side, but even as he said it, her kid shook his head and smiled like he wasn’t really shocked to see her at all.

“Henry?” Killian asked, after having locked the door behind him, but when he turned and saw Emma, Emma knew in her heart what was coming. “Emma! What’s brought you out this way, love?”

“It’s kind of a long story. We were all at the café and then I just ended up here…”

“Should have known we’d never keep the secret long,” Killian said with a chuckle before coming down and taking Emma’s hand in his. “Henry and I had other plans on how to tell you, Swan, but it seems that plan must change.”

“I still don’t understand,” Emma said, even though she followed enough to realize that this house she’d always loved was about to be theirs.

“Operation Our Home is a go, Mom. Killian and I agreed we needed a new place for all of us to build our new memories together, and we figured the best way to get you on board was to pick a house you couldn’t say no to.”

Emma worked hard to keep the happy tears at bay, but her throat was tight with emotion at the lovely sentiment. And they were absolutely right. She would never say no to this place because it was one that she loved so much. She just couldn’t get over these constant grand gestures. Yet even as she thought that Emma knew they would be a constant. Loving a man like Killian who was thoughtful and kind meant that she’d always feel this way. He was a man with his heart set on one thing, making her and her son happy and building a life with them, and as such Emma knew she was in for years and years of similarly spectacular moments.

“So what do you think, my love?” Killian asked as he pulled Emma into his arms, kissing her temple softly. “Can you picture forever here with us?”

“Yes,” she whispered before looking from the house back to Killian and then down to Henry. “Forever with you two is all I could ever need.”

So with that affirmation from Emma, the three of them all headed back into the house to take a look at the new home that was now theirs. As expected, it was gorgeous and filled with possibility, and over the next few weeks the three of them all crafted a plan for the beautiful future that would be had here for now and always. They added their little touches and unique imprints to make their new home all that it could be, and the best part of all was that Emma knew this house was destined to change and grow in the years to come. For this would be a house for a lifetime, a home for a family, and a place where she’d know the peace love and magic that she’d always wanted her whole life long.

…………….

Holding his wife as the swayed upon the dance floor the night of their wedding, Killian could safely say that he’d never known a joy quite like this.

True, he’d been saying that since the very first moment that he had met his precious Swan, but today had been different even by their incredibly high standards. For today, the two of them had stood before their friends, their family, and practically all the town and vowed to love each other now and always. They’d promised each other a partnership and passion the likes of which so few people would ever experience, and Killian knew in his heart that there was more to this than luck. This was, as Henry liked to say, fated from the start. He was meant to find Emma and love her always, and now he would finally have his chance.

As the music played around them, Killian hummed the tune, much to the amusement of his wife, but the soundtrack of his evening wasn’t the funny irony of Frank Sinatra singing about love and witchcraft. It was a loop of the vows they’d exchanged just a few hours before. All he could see was Emma in that transcendent moment when she became his and he became irrevocably hers. Dressed in the ivory lace gown she still wore currently, her golden hair pinned back but with loose tendrils in the front, and her eyes filled with happy tears that made those jade pools he was constantly lost in shine even brighter, Emma was an angel made real. She had been a true vision in the moment they were wed and remained so all evening long, making Killian keenly aware that he was the single most fortunate man the world over.

“Killian, for so long I was scared to even dream of letting someone into this life I’ve made for Henry and me. My past had taught me that love like this wasn’t in the cards for me, and so I shied away for it for a long long time. But thankfully my heart knew better – heck my kid knew better – and because of that faith and a little bit of magic, here we are.”

Those words had caused a stir amongst their audience, who had hardly been contained as the ceremony went on. Not that Killian was surprised. Between the noisy but thrilled tears of half of Emma’s friends and the commentary streams from Ruby, Henry, Liam, and the others it hadn’t been the solemn, sanctified wedding of tradition. But it had been perfect all the same, and Emma had let out a giggle at their antics that Killian still felt deep in his soul as she continued.

“Since meeting you, I’ve felt a change within me and I’ve sensed a shift in this life I always swore to protect. I thought before I had more than any one person could ever need, but I was so wrong. You’ve shown me the light that love brings in, and that magic can be more than I ever thought possible. Together I know we will build a life truly worth living, a life filled with love and laughter and today I get the realest blessing of calling you my husband. I couldn’t be happier for that, because it means I get to walk this path and start this journey with you, the man I love, the man who makes my dreams come true. I’ll love you forever, Killian Jones. Forever and then a little more.”

In the face of her sweetest words and promise of love Killian had been choked up himself, but despite what tradition might dictate, he was unable to simply dive into his own prepared words. Instead he’d pulled his almost wife and better half close for a kiss that wasn’t supposed to take place just yet. The hoots and hollers of their friends reminded them of that, but as he’d broken away and told Emma that she was everything to him, he knew the woman who held his whole heart so gently in her hand didn’t care about tradition. The happiness in her eyes was testament enough that they were in this together and making their own way, no matter what others might think or feel.

“Emma, from the moment we met there has never been a single second where I wasn’t sure that you would change my world. In an instant you anchored a restless a soul that had been wandering too long. I was lost out in the world, but the greatest cruelty was I didn’t even see how much I was missing until I was led here, to the home I so desperately needed.”

“See! He gets it,” Henry had whispered to Liam loud enough for everyone to hear and another laugh was shared throughout the space.

“Aye, lad I do,” Killian responded, turning back and nodding at Henry before looking back again to Emma and proceeding on.

“At first I thought the town itself held something special, something different. But you were the change I needed, Swan. You were the love I’d never hoped to find and through all you are and all you’ve given me you have made it impossible not to love you. In truth, I can’t express just how deep that love goes, for words cannot contain all that I feel. Just know that with every passing moment my love for you grows, and every day I thank God for all we have because you were willing to take a chance, and because fate intervened and showed me the way to the only life I could ever want. What we have here is more than magic, Emma. It’s something meant to be, and I swear to you that I will cherish you and our family for this day and all my days forever more.”

With those sacred vows now out between them, Killian hadn’t feel any less charged with emotion, and that was only made more real and tangible when Emma too broke form and pulled him in for a kiss before their officient could give them both permission. It was perfect though, every single detail of it, and the party that followed with all the well wishers in their life was beautiful too. It was an evening under the stars, lit up by lanterns and twinkling lights in the same glen on the property of their new home where Killian had proposed at Christmas. Here now wildflowers blossomed, some from the summer season itself, but others magically crafted by Emma and her friends. Fireflies too flashed in the wooded area just beyond, and the subtle sound of waves upon the shore sounded from the beach not too far away.

This was, by every kind of measurement, a runaway success, a wedding to remember, but the only thing that gnawed at Killian was that in all of the festivities Emma and Killian hadn’t had the chance to really be alone. It had been more than twenty-four hours, in fact, since he and Emma had spent the night before their wedding apart, and though he was assuaged on some level by holding her in his arms as they swayed across the dance floor, his heart yearned for the chance to steal Emma away and show her just how much he loved her.

“How much trouble do you think we’ll get in if we make a run for it now?” Emma asked, her voice trickling into Killian’s thoughts and so closely resembling his own line of thinking that he had to grin as he pulled back to look into her eyes, his hand cupping her jaw as his thumb traced gently at the corner of her mouth.

“I’ve been assessing that very question for some time, my love.”

“And have you found any answers?” Emma asked, pulling him in closer by the dress shirt he was wearing so he was only a whisper away. “Because I’d really like to start my wedding night with my husband right about now.”

“Say no more, Swan,” Killian replied before surprising her and lifting her into his arms to carry across the dance floor and from the reception. The cheers that went out at the action were of a raucous if well-meant variety and after a brief check in with Henry, who was staying the night with Liam and Elsa, Killian brought his wife up the pathway from the meadow where they’d just held their reception and to the new home that they’d found together and crafted into a place perfect for them.

Tonight would be the first time that they’d spend in this house despite their owning it for about a month now. They could have moved in sooner, but Emma had made mention one night as they lay in bed together in her old house of how romantic it would be to have their wedding night be the first one spent in the place they’d be building their lives from here on out. Killian had decided in that moment that that was exactly what they’d do. He had no desire to deny his bride in any way, not when his surest form of pleasure was seeing Emma satisfied, but before he could take her upstairs and make love to her the whole night through, there was one last thing he needed from the woman he loved – and he felt his hands begin to shake after he’d carried Emma through the threshold and put her down in their home.

“There’s just one thing left, Emma, and I know it’s a little out of the ordinary in terms of a wedding present, but I was hoping I might ask for mine specifically.”

Emma looked a little puzzled at his words, and then looked surprised when he pulled out a file of papers from a drawer there in the living room, but upon reading what they said, tears filled her eyes and a small smile graced her lips before her hand flew up to cover them. She scanned the lines, trying to be sure of what she was reading, before looking back at Killian with so much love it almost hurt to see it and not sweep her upstairs right now.

“Today you’ve already given me the world, Emma. Becoming my wife, joining our families, it means everything to me, and I never want to pressure you or Henry, but just as my love for you sprang from our first encounter, so too did my love for your son.”

“Our son,” Emma said happily. “Killian this is – God it almost feels like too much, but it’s not, it’s perfect. I know Henry would love to have you as his Dad officially, and nothing would mean more to him than to be a Jones too.”

“You really think so?” Killian asked, hopeful that Henry would be amiable to the idea but never wanting to take the boy’s approval of him for granted.

“I know so,” Emma said with a firm sense of assurance that couldn’t be denied. Then she put the papers back on the side table next to them and pulled Killian in close once more. “And I also know that I can’t wait another second to be with you, Killian. So please don’t make me wait.”

“Never,” Killian promised before they made their way upstairs and to the master suite all laid out and arranged for this evening and the life they’d share here.

Part of Killian felt like the familiar dance of stripping off the layers between them moved too quickly even as it seemed to take an age to reveal his wife to his hungry gaze. With deft fingers Emma had removed all the garments that kept her from him, but when it came to be his turn Killian tried to take it slower. He wanted to commit every element of this to memory, from the way Emma’s wedding gown slipped off her a little more when each button was undone, to the reveal of the barest scraps of white lace underneath that left him even more crazed for her. Every second that past was another moment to hold close forever, but perhaps none struck his heart as surely as when Emma flashed him a knowing grin as her hair hung loose around her shoulders. She had never looked more poised and confident and sure of herself and of him, and that was all he’d ever wanted since meeting this remarkable woman all those months ago.

“Much as I love the way you’re looking at me, I can only take so much waiting tonight,” Emma said, moving back into the bed and bidding him to follow like a moth drawn to a flame. “I need to know that this is real. I need you to show me.”

“Nothing’s ever been more real than this, Emma, and I’ll spend the rest of our lives and then some proving that to you.

Killian punctuated each of those words with kisses against her skin, first at her lips then down her jaw, trailing a teasing path that didn’t exactly hurry, but built momentum towards what his wife ultimately needed. Emma thought hard and fast was the answer, but with a whole life ahead of them Killian had no intention of speeding up the clock. He’d savor every moment, taste every part of her, and sate every need his Swan could possibly conceive of, and then he’d do it again and again before the sun was up. That was his duty as her husband, and Killian would never back down from his honor and his right to lay the world at Emma’s feet.

With the aim of satisfying both of them in mind, Killian found the balance between sweet and torturous tension that would soon lead to release. He let his hands roam across the expanse of her soft skin, tracing underneath the flimsy bra that she still had on her and feeling her intake of breath. Moments like this were intoxicating, stronger than any high he’d ever felt. Some might say it was like being caught up in a spell that she had cast months ago, but Killian had never felt freer or more alive than when he had Emma in his arms like this. Feeling her writhe beneath him as he stripped her of the garment that stood between them and brought his mouth to her breasts, Killian held back the moan at the back of his throat that came from Emma’s earnest pleas. Hearing his name tumble past her lips over and over mixed with words of her love and her need were almost too much to bear, and when he knew he had her frenzy building higher and higher his hand trailed down, slipping past the lace between her thighs and sinking home to her waiting sex, finding Emma already at the very edge of climax.

“Killian.”

His name this time was barely more than a whimper, caught up in the feeling as she was and Killian looked up to find her eyes closed as she chased the feeling of bliss that would come when he let her fall apart. Perhaps a stronger man would have waited, would have prolonged that state for the sake of more payoff down the line, but Killian couldn’t. Instead he swirled his thumb against her clit with just the right amount of pressure to have her clinging to him as she broke apart in his arms, reveling in how freely Emma gave herself and how undeniable her trust was that he would never steer her wrong.

Seeing Emma in such a state only fueled the need within Killian further. He was aching for his own release, but unable to comprehend it just yet. If this was going to last and he was going to get his fill of his beautiful wife he needed to be patient and draw this out. He did this by slowing back down to a languid speed, kissing his way down Emma’s body and leaving the faintest of marks as he went, much to Emma’s pleasure. Sated as she’d seemed a few moments before, it didn’t take long for Killian to rile her back up again, and by the time he was positioned between her thighs ready to take her with his mouth her eyes had filled with that same glint of need and her skin flushed pink with heat and desire. Then he ripped off the last remaining piece of lace keeping Emma from him and she swallowed harshly, fighting to find words because even in their most intimate moments her wit couldn’t be contained.

“And to think I thought you’d like those…”

“Like isn’t the word I’d use, love, but they were in my way and you know I don’t stand for anything that keeps us apart.”

With those words spoken between them and the responding look in Emma’s eyes that said she felt the same way, Killian descended towards her slick flesh and Emma caved to the sensations in an instant. Time had taught Killian exactly what his Swan desired and every flick and suck and lick was purposefully meant to stoke the flames she felt within. It was all done in the hopes of watching her shatter again, and by God he did, but before he could send her tipping over for a third time she pulled him back with her hands in his hair and shook her head, trying to silently say what she needed before she found her words.

“I need you with me this time, Killian. Please.”

That one word rendered him powerless to resist Emma’s wishes, not that he’d ever want to. He was at the edge as it was, but when he’d slipped home and filled her in one solid thrust that state of mind-numbing lust shocked his system once again. She was so damn tight it cast out all other thoughts from his consciousness. They fit together like they were made to be one and every time they made love was more powerful than the last, but tonight was different. Tonight they were man and wife and the comfort and peace that came from that was matched only by the adoration Killian always carried for Emma and the endless love he felt for the woman who had transformed his whole world.

Eventually, despite his plans to make this last as long as could be, they came together, crashing into ecstasy side by side and panting for breath as they did, but they both knew it was just a short reprieve. They’d be like this all evening, wrapped up together, neither of them letting go when all they wanted was this closeness. If they slept at all it would be a miracle, but who needed sleep when they could have a love like this instead?

“So… is this the part where the guy and the girl live happily ever after?” Emma asked, her cheek resting on Killian’s shoulder as her fingers traced a delicate design along his chest. Killian smiled, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before replying.

“Aye, love. That’s typically how these stories go. At least that’s what they tell me.”

“According to Henry our story has a few more characters on the way,” Emma said thoughtfully and Killian felt his heart skip a beat at the mention of more children. He hadn’t wanted to say anything or push Emma to go faster than she was willing, but by bringing it up he had to believe she was more ready for that step than he’d originally anticipated and God knew he was just as willing to start that journey together.

“Well it is our destiny it seems. And if we’ve such a destiny ahead of us then perhaps we better get a move on,” Killian murmured as his fingers trailed up Emma’s stomach lightly, bringing out goose bumps as he did.

“We actually might already be there,” Emma whispered and Killian’s eyes flew up to hers, searching for an answer. “I haven’t taken a test or anything, but I’m a few days late and last night I had the strangest dream…”

“A dream, eh?” Killian asked, biting back a smile since dreams seemed to have a very powerful implication in this family.

“Yeah. It was eerily similar to some I’ve only ever had once before.”

“And when was that, love?” Killian asked, though he already knew in some way where Emma was going with this.

“When I was pregnant with Henry. Before all of this I might have thought it was just a coincidence but now…”

Would wonders never cease? Killian couldn’t imagine how one day could bring all of this joy into an already happy life, but here he was feeling like the universe just kept on giving. A wedding, a wife, a son, and possibly another child on the way… Could there be anything to describe this other than that he lived a charmed life?

“But now,” Killian said as he took Emma’s hand in his and kissed it lightly. “Now we know not to question your magic, my love.”

“Or the magic we make together,” Emma said with a laugh and Killian couldn’t stop himself from laughing too as Emma clarified her statement. “Okay I’ll admit that was cheesy, but I figure we get a pass because it’s true love right?”

“Aye, love, the truest love that love can be.”

And the beautiful thing was that it was a pure and unyielding kind of love, the likes of which are ripe for magic and joy and every good thing. Years would come and years would go, and in the life that Emma and Killian built together, their love, and the magic it inspired, always seemed to follow. Good things came, and trials came too, but in the end it was a happy union that the two of them shared together, and thanks to the strength of their love and the unbreakable bond they’d created by saying yes to their hearts’ desires, that magic would never die and never waiver, instead extending to their children and their children’s children for generations and generations to come.

Post-Note: It is always so bittersweet to come to the end of a story, especially ones like this one where not only was it a joy to write, but it clearly was a new favorite for a lot of my lovely readers. So I just want to thank each and every one of you who reached out about this story in any capacity. Whether it was reviews, comments, messages, or what have you, you guys fed the muse even through the driest spells of my PhD program and for that I am so grateful. As I said before, there will undoubtedly be an epilogue (or a couple epilogues) to come for this story, because how could I ever not show a better glimpse into the happy ending a few years down the line? But I just don’t know when that will be at this point. It might have to wait until my next school break but it will come. Anyway thanks again, I really hope you all have enjoyed and be on the lookout because I have plans for a new AU coming out in the new year and many more oneshots to boot. Thanks again, and happy New Year!

#captain swan #captain swan au #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs smut #cs wedding #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #emma swan #killian jones #henry mills #the whole storybrooke gang #ouat au #cs multichapter #some call it magic #some call it 17 #some call it au #real world magic

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westernmanews · 4 years

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SPRINGFIELD — Mychal Connolly’s connection to the subject of suicide is all too personal.

“I was talking with my friend Nate about ways to teach our kids about entrepreneurship,” he explained. “He had moved to Florida with his family and was back for a visit. We were talking about his business and how it was doing well. I was taking my family to Florida on vacation soon and thought we could connect, but with my family focused on theme parks, it never happened.”

After he got home, Connolly saw a post on Facebook alluding to a friend who had died, but it wasn’t clear who. When he reached out to learn more, he received a shock: Nate had taken his own life, in front of his wife.

“Nate was a quiet guy who stayed to himself, but that was his personality,” Connolly recalled. “His friends knew that about him. I knew that. There were no signs he was going through anything difficult in his life. Nothing suggested there was any issue troubling him. He left a wife and three kids.”

Now Connolly, in partnership with MHA and the Pioneer Valley Coalition for Suicide Prevention, is taking a message to the streets: suicide is preventable when people start talking. The message is getting out via Stand Out Truck, a business Connolly created that uses a mobile, digital messaging platform built into a truck that drives wherever a message can make the most impact.

“Our friends at the Pioneer Valley Coalition for Suicide Prevention made a grant to cover half of the cost of the campaign, and Stand Out Truck offered a discount,” said Kimberley Lee, MHA’s vice president of Resource Development & Branding. “All three organizations are working together to get the message out that suicide is preventable, continuing through the second week in October.”

Connolly explained that “Stand Out Truck takes the message directly to the streets where people in motor vehicles, on the sidewalk, or out in their yards can see it. I’ve known Kim Lee for several years, and MHA does a lot to aid suicide prevention, so Kim and I connected to see how we could work together specifically for Suicide Prevention Month. Short story, we made it happen.”

Stand Out Truck is uniquely mobile and, frankly, hard to miss, Lee added. “Silence breeds stigma, and we must take every opportunity to encourage each other to talk about how we’re feeling emotionally and raise awareness about resources for suicide prevention. Stand Out Truck is delivering our message throughout the Pioneer Valley: Springfield, Agawam, West Springfield, Westfield, Tolland, Huntington, Chicopee, Holyoke, South Hadley, East Longmeadow, Longmeadow, Wilbraham, Hampden, Monson, Ludlow, Palmer, Brimfield, and more. It’s traveling daytime hours as well as evening, which is great because the truck is brightly illuminated; it really draws attention after dark.”

Connolly stressed that this issue hits home for him. “Having a conversation with someone may encourage them to talk some more, get some help, and realize life is worth living.”

Stand Out Truck, in business since March, provides mobile digital messaging for business promotions, graduations, birthdays, anniversaries, and a wide variety of activities and events. What makes it unique is taking a mobile message directly to the community, instead of hoping members of the community happen to pass a fixed billboard and notice a message. That’s especially critical with a message this timely and important, Connolly said.

“People see the truck and say, ‘wow, what’s that’” he noted. “It’s just not something you see every day, a billboard driving by with a message. We use a GPS system that highlights busier routes, and we travel those. We also travel predictable high-traffic routes and times, such as during the morning and evening rush. If the one person who needs to see the message sees it, or if a friend or family member sees it, then it’s made an impact.”

It’s important to reach people who aren’t feeling quite right before they start to feel that killing themselves is their only option,” said Sara Kendall, vice president of Clinical Operations for MHA.

“Through BestLife, MHA’s outpatient center for emotional health and wellness, people who are anxious, depressed, afraid, or at risk of hurting themselves can talk with someone who cares, who listens, and who can help connect them with supports to help them start feeling better,” she added. “BestLife opened right here in Springfield in 2019, and in a little over a year, we have had conversations with more than 500 individuals in this community — people ready to start talking about their anxiety, their depression, their fears … even their thoughts of suicide. And let me be frank: COVID has certainly not helped with any of those things. More than ever, people are feeling distressed, isolated, frustrated and confused.

“So, we invite members of the community to join us for a conversation,” she went on. “Whether that conversation happens in person, with appropriate social distancing, or whether it happens virtually using MHA’s TeleWell app to connect interested persons with a licensed MHA counselor, we are ready to start talking. We are ready to listen. We are ready to help save lives by helping people live their best life.”

The post Entrepreneur Mychal Connolly Takes Suicide-prevention Message to the Streets appeared first on BusinessWest.

#Western MA news #westernmanews

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eventuallyfall-blog · 7 years

Text

13 Envelopes

pairing: reader x lin summary: After graduating from UCLA, you would find any way to escape having to go back home. Lucky for you, your Aunt Jasmine Cephas Jones had organized a way for you to have the adventure you’d never gotten to have before. You’re ready to take her up on the offer. warnings: rpf (naturally), mentions of teen pregnancy, swearing a/n: i was tryin to post this august 6th but then i had a hard time writing thru it bc i made myself sad with my writing because that’s a thing i do i guess. anyway let’s get crackin tagged: @defenestrate-yourself-please@justabravelittleblogger @decayingtrash @andschuyler @linslovelylocks @sarahgurl09 @artofnerdom

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Ever since the date, you had been utterly giddy. You were suddenly extremely grateful that your Aunt Jasmine had decided to shove you to asking someone out. It was like you were walking on air, actually. “So wait, he actually kissed you?” “For the last time, Pippa, yes,” you said with the widest grin as you remembered the feel of his lips against yours. It'd been ages since you and Pippa had gotten to hang out. Right now, Pippa and you had made tea and decided to catch up on the couch. “I mean, you knew Aunt Jas was going to make me ask someone out, though? You couldn't have warned me?”

Pippa laughed, shaking her head. “Your aunt really wanted everything in the envelopes to be a surprise so no, I couldn't,” she said with a grin. “Besides, I only knew the contents of that one letter because she mentioned that you were still single and she felt that you should be going on dates and what not. I think she did you a favor. From the way you and Lin were acting, the two of you would've danced around asking the other out until someone else asked you out and end up married to someone else. Which is what happened with this other girl he liked a few years back.”

“Really,” you said with your eyebrows going up. “So then it sounds like Lin also owes Jas a thank you and not just me.”

“Oh for sure,” she said with a giggle, leaning back with a bright grin. “You're a catch! I mean, you are so pretty and smart. Exactly his type, funnily enough. Which it turns out that's also Michael's type.”

“Who the fuck is Michael?”

“The guy the girl he liked ended up with,” she explained as she finished off her tea and stood up. “Lin was bitter about it for a while there, but I think he's getting over it. Oh, you should open the next letter. I wanna know what letter five is all about.”

Envelope five had a small drawing of a girl that looked vaguely familiar. It took a minute before you realized it was your mother, age twenty-seven. She hadn't looked that vibrant and glowing in years. It was like life had started to suck the life out of her. You didn't realize that Aunt Jasmine remembered how your mom looked back then. Normally you discarded the envelopes but you set this one down with the intention of keeping it.

Honey bun,

Sometimes life doesn't have direction. When I was born, Anya was already fifteen and a full fledged teenager. Our dad and her mom had split ages ago – shortly after Anya was born, actually. Dad was only nineteen when your mom was born and her mother was only eighteen. Instead of taking responsibility and staying with dad, she split. He knew that relationships when you're a teenager aren't meant to last. He was worried that Anya's relationship wouldn't make it despite your existence and that she'd be left with little to nothing. Honestly, what I admire most about Anya and your father is that they still went to college and took care of you. It wasn't an easy task and I'm not sure you remember them being on food stamps and living in a crappy married couples dorm in Stanford.

They made it work, though. Stanford saw the happiest years of your parents' lives because there's something about being in school that made it easier. They had a roof over their heads, they had a schedule. It all fell apart upon graduation – which you probably don't remember well. I barely remember it myself. The only reason I know is because my dad told me about how he'd been surprised how steady their relationship was while he and my mom were raising me. I think when I turned ten is when your mother decided she didn't want to see him and my mom together anymore but I still wanted to see you and her. So I started visiting California on my own on dad's dime with his blessing.

Relationships are a tricky thing to explain, actually. It's the sort of thing that can feel like you're spinning rapidly out of control and it's easy to ditch them once it starts getting too serious. When you've got dreams, it's easy to see love itself as a baggage. That's how I once thought of love, anyway. Neither your mother nor I had any real model of healthy relationships. I think it might be why your mother is so defensive of her relationship with your father. It's... real. Or real enough, really. I think once you've spent twenty-eight years with someone, it becomes harder to say this isn't working. You don't want to throw away all those years together. Especially when you can say you'd been together since high school.

See, your mother doesn't hear criticism well, especially since dad's been trying to get her out of that relationship since before you were born. Which is the only reason I was okay with the relationship, I think. It made me an aunt to you. You're the greatest thing to come out of that relationship. And honestly, this is why envelope five is a wild card – you get to decide what you need to do. You can open envelope six whenever you feel it's appropriate.

All my love, Aunt Jas

There was no answers to this. You couldn't tell what the appropriate time to open envelope six was. For some reason, right after reading this letter didn't feel like the right time. You tucked away the sixth envelope in your purse, figuring that the perfect moment would hit you eventually. You already knew your family had been a bit screwed up – it was obvious to anyone. Between the fact your aunt was barely two years older than and you being the product of a teenage pregnancy and your mother somehow also being the product of teenage pregnancy (you wondered what the odds on that happening were), there was too much to your family that you didn't want to go into. In fact, when Lin specifically asked about your family during the date you went out of your way to focus exclusively on Aunt Jasmine. It had just been easier at the time.

You talked about how before Aunt Jasmine turned 15, she had stayed in your room during summer vacations and how when she was 15 she started staying in fancy hotels under her dad's name. How she was the one who helped you picked out your homecoming dress freshman and sophomore year and how lost you felt when she wasn't there to help after. You danced around why she stopped showing up and merely mentioned being surprised at the contact she'd made two years ago. For some reason, it felt like luck that you hadn't opened the envelopes until now. While you were certain this trip would've been just as amazing two years ago, it felt like a crescendo in your life. Like this was the drum roll, leading up to something important that you've yet to figure out.

Maybe you were investing too much stock in these envelopes your aunt gave you. Maybe the goal wasn't to figure your life out. After all, you'd only been 22 when the letters arrived. There's no way it was as simple as “help you figure your life out”. Whatever was going on, you figured a breather from the envelopes would help you sort out what you needed to do next. What you needed was something to clear your head. Some space away from them, something that would take you away from the right now.

The answer of what you needed to do next was see the Museum of Natural History. You weren't certain how your mind connected the need for distance from the now to history. Perhaps it had been on your mind a lot due to your recent conversations with Lin. He texted you almost every day now, telling you how he couldn't wait to see you again. It was nice to see his name flash across your phone screen with your heart racing every time, even as you were swiping on the blood red of Vampira from Kat Von D. You texted Lin, asking him to send your aunt to meet you at the Museum of Natural History. A slight grin appeared on your face as he texted back with your aunt's number and that he'll let her know you'd like to see her.

It was then that you realized that you never told your aunt that you had bought a laptop and phone in New York City. You supposed you should probably let her know that you had done that and explain that you figured that you'd be staying in New York City for a while. It'd already been almost a month, you realized with a start. How long where you going to stay? You weren't even halfway through the envelopes and it's already taken almost a month to get through them. It was then that you started to calculate out how long it'd been. You arrived June 20 – a week after graduating. It was now July 18 – in two days it would be a month. Suddenly you wondered if you should be getting through the envelopes faster.

You were grinning when your aunt showed up. Here was the thing about your aunt: you always felt like she was so much prettier than you. It was just since the two of you were so close in age it seemed like you and her should have bloomed at the same time. However, when Jasmine bloomed, you... didn't. Jasmine got the attention from the boys and at one point over the summer, a crush you'd had all summer long ended up trying to get your aunt Jasmine's number. It was demoralizing to have your aunt get the guy you liked, to say the least. That was when your self confidence was definitely at its lowest.

Right now was no exception either. It was why you were still surprised that Lin showed an interest in you over your aunt – who was older (and a gap between 35 and 26 was far less insane than the gap between 35 and 24), with lighter skin and with far more control over her own curls, and far more knowledgeable about theater than you. Looking at her now, it was hard to believe this was the same woman you had once shared baths with at age five and harder still to believe that someone would actually chose you over her. She threw her arms around you, a big grin on her face. “Let's go look at some dinosaur bones.”

Dinosaur bones wasn't exactly what you had in mind – you'd really wanted to see the planetarium. You figured maybe there was a chance the two of you could do both. Some time to see dinosaurs and stars. While logically, you knew museums like this existed all over the country something about New York City made it feel different. It was that feeling again; that feeling that felt like you'd been struck by lightening and were unable to put the flames out. “And maybe some stars later?”

Jasmine laughed slightly – you weren't sure if it was because of your predictability or because she was laughing at you. You took the favorable option. “You want to look at the observatory, huh?”

And for a while, everything went fine. Aunt Jasmine starting telling you the stories of backstage life, with you clinging to every word and realizing you'd never met the rest of the cast beyond Phillipa and Lin. “So when am I going to get to meet everyone else?”

“In due time, honey bun,” Jasmine said as she read the plaque for the giant set of bones that was in front of the two of you. “Pippa says you're the best roommate she's ever had. She comes home and you've already cleaned everything and have a hot meal waiting for her. Sounds incredibly domestic.”

You supposed domestic was the right word for it. You found yourself settling more into Pippa's apartment over the past month. A week after arriving, you'd hung your clothes up in the closet. Two weeks after, you starting writing your own events you needed to get to on the big whiteboard that Pippa had hanging up in the kitchen. Three days ago, you paid for groceries in the place after you'd run out of chicken. You hadn't realized how quickly you slipped into treating Pippa's apartment like “home”. “I suppose it's just cause I can't do anything without a clear head. Cleaning helps.”

“You'd always been a neat freak,” Jasmine said with a sly grin on her face. “Whenever you'd come over to my hotel, you'd yell at me over leaving my clothes everywhere. Renee and Pip do the same thing in the dressing room. Well not yell... more like sternly talk to me about how it's a shared space.”

Jasmine was right – she'd always been messy and you'd always been the clean one. Cleaning up after everyone else's mess, the same way you always had chosen the clear cut path rather than taking risks. It had been the biggest opposition between you and aunt Jasmine. She was messy, a risk taker, the one who broke the rules. You were clean, the steady course, the one who abode by every rule. Even your notebooks told this – clean, neat, elegant notes. Everything laid out neatly in stark contrast with Jasmine. Her lighter but somehow messier. “You probably might need my help,” you teased. “I'm willing to come look at previews any time.”

“Oh no you don't,” she said, her eyes going wide. “Pippa insists you need to get the full experience opening night. Star studded VIP treatment and all that. I kinda agree with her.”

You shrugged, figuring at least you could find out how much 128 gigabytes really could store when it came to pictures. It did go against the spirit of the trip, but since it was starting to feel more like it'd be months before you returned back to reality... you wanted a way to call your mother is what you told yourself. You missed home. But you knew that it was all because you wanted a way to keep in contact with those you'd met in New York City. “Pippa likes to be bossy, doesn't she?”

And then your phone went off. The loud ringing meant it was probably Lin – either texting you or calling you. And then you saw Jasmine's face – you'd never seen that look on her face. Her lips had parted and her eyes just had a hint of something that looked... like hurt. The only time you'd ever seen her seem hurt is when your mother had told her that she was too young to understand her. “You brought your phone? On the trip where I said don’t bring your phone?”

Logically, you knew you didn't have to explain yourself if you had brought your phone with you. You knew that you were an adult and she couldn't prevent you from. But you didn't like how vulnerable Jasmine looked. Your aunt wasn't a vulnerable person. So instead of the 'so what if I had' answer on the tip of your tongue, you said instead, “No, I bought a new phone. The instructions didn't say I couldn't buy new electronics.”

“It was... implied,” Jasmine said, briskly starting to walk away from you. And your heart sank. You chased after her, calling her name until she spun around, clearly upset. “You just... you violated the spirit of the adventure!”

You sputtered in response. “The spirit of the adventure,” you said, seeing red. “We haven't spoken in almost ten years! And the first thing I get from you is ditch your phone and your entire life in Los Angeles to come hang out in New York City! We were like sisters growing up but here we are and I had no idea you were making a Broadway debut!”

Jasmine looked hurt by this. “At the time when I sent those, I didn't know I'd be making a debut on Broadway,” she said, folding her arms over her chest and pulling away. You knew that this was probably a point where you could apologize and everything would be fine and the two of you could go off the planetarium but the logic had checked out for the day. “What about you, huh? You took two years to even get around to this! It was supposed to be a graduation gift!”

“Graduation gift,” you said incredulously, shaking your head. “A better graduation gift would have been actually coming to my commencement ceremony. But you weren't there. You had... three separate tries at now! High school graduation – where were you? Not there! Bachelor's? Not there! Masters? Nope! I had to find out through your cast mates that you even knew that I had gotten my masters!” You paused, realizing by the look on her face that you had touched a nerve. “I'm flying back to LA. Tonight.”

And you stormed off with aunt Jasmine making no attempt to stop you from leaving. Yet when you arrived at Pippa's apartment with the intent of going back to Los Angeles and forgetting about the rest of the envelopes, your phone buzzed yet again. Lin's name flashed across your phone and the ticket Pippa promised to get you for the premiere of Hamilton caught your eye – sitting right there on the bedside table. The silver dress you planned to wear to the event was hanging on the door. And then the realization came that you couldn't leave. You had to see this thing through. So there was only one option you could really feel comfortable with: you dialed a number on your phone and through your tears, you managed to get out, “Can we hang out later?”

#reader x lin #reader x lmm #lin manuel imagine #lin miranda imagine #poc reader #it's More Obviously stated here lmao #mywriting #13envelopes

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