#also I realized that I might be able to start hormones this summer since there’s a clinic in my area that offers them

[the-starlight-papers]

Just remembered why I avoid the area where the party dorms are at my college, I was walking to pick up food from over there and these two girls were walking the opposite direction and this one looks at me and hisses to her friend “Is that a BOY???”

Like girl come on at least wait until I’m at least plausibly out of earshot, or at the very least don’t do it when you’re five feet in front of me.

[nothorses]

hi! u can ignore this of course but I’ve just decided i’m trans again (long journey) and I had some questions and idk who to ask!!! again you can totally ignore this if you want!!! like i literally rediscovered i might (probably am) a trans guy last night and i’m sort of freaking out as for now. when i first thought i was trans i didn’t really like myself so this was easier but now i do and it’s sort of a totally different experience than what i was used to.

A big worry is, I like my face. like, I really like it and really care about being pretty and I don’t dislike myself generally just think i’d make more sense as a guy and that I’d be happier like that. i’d like to look a bit more masculine but just enough to look like a really pretty guy instead of a woman. can i still be trans or like should i look into my feelings being about something else ? and is there any chance i could achieve what i want with my face while still taking T (I really want the fat redistribution)? I’m also absolutely terrified about losing my hair and i’d heard it depends on my father? but i took the hair gene from mom? i don’t know.

I’m also really worried about dating? I’m bisexual but I’ll probably just date men (i like masc women but have never really met any that aren’t lesbians). I’m not mourning being able to be with straight men bc i’ve really always avoided them (no shade i just never could stand the thought of dating them which is actually one of the reasons i figured out i was probably not comfortable being a girl). Still I’m worried that queer guys won’t look at me twice?

I’m also going to be in a new, big city in september and should i just start by telling people i’m a guy? since i’m long-haired and don’t plan on changing that and i definitely won’t be on hormones or anything by then, I certainly will not be passing. I can do some voice training but I’m not sure to what degree that will help. I’m thin and have no curves that can be seen through most clothes so i don’t think that when clothed anything will be just outright obvious but i think if i speak to people it will definitely be obvious. should i specify i’m trans or just introduce myself with my very obvious male name and give no more explanation? I’m also autistic and was already terrified of never making friends (i have a good group now and tbh there’s no chance they’re going to be cool about this and i’m already mourning them lmao) and now the fear is worse.

If I had to weigh pros and cons i’d definitely say there are no pros to this thing that i’m thinking of doing, but i can’t imagine any future as a woman, (maybe not really as a man either but if i had to choose). I have trouble imagining myself with a straight man or in a wedding dress at this point or things like that, and there’s just been this disconnect lately. i like myself when i look in the mirror but maybe i’m just excited about being conventionally attractive. Still when I imagine myself it’s a flat-chested person. I’ve also been fighting for my life to not be trans so that might mean something. I’m afraid on wasting another two years on thinking i’m trans when i’m not, but the more i’ve grown comfortable and comfortable with myself the more i realized i couldn’t relate to women. Now that I’ve figured out i’m wondering about how to get through the summer w people that don’t know me and wearing a certain kind of clothes. I’m so worried.

Sorry for the vent or whatever this is. you can ignore and i do realize i sound absolutely crazy i’m just freaking out atm.

First off- congratulations on the gender journey! I know how hard it can be to go through something like this, but coming to understand yourself better is such a wonderful, rewarding, relieving experience, and I'm so glad you're taking steps towards what feels good for you.

And second- it's normal for that to be scary, too. It's normal to feel some fear and hesitation when you start to unravel who you are, and what that might mean. You're not alone!

It sounds like you might be feeling some time pressure around this, and my first piece of advice is that if you are feeling like there's a deadline and you need to rush to a conclusion or action before then, that's a really good sign that you need to take a step back, slow down, and breathe. It's normal to feel some urgency with this sort of thing, but ask yourself where that's coming from. It's one thing to want to "stop wasting time" because you know what you want & you don't want to keep waiting for it, but it's another entirely to feel like you have to make a decision to meet some kind of arbitrary deadline.

If you aren't sure what you want but you feel pressured to make a decision anyway, you should slow down. If that deadline is being imposed by some external force, ask yourself what it might look like (and feel like) to slow down and miss that deadline anyways. I really love the phrase "slow down to speed up": most of the time, trying to rush something causes complications and missteps that make the whole thing take a lot longer than if you'd just slowed down and done it right in the first place! If you're not ready, you're not ready. Let yourself be ready at your own pace.

That aside, I'll try to answer your other questions:

"can i still be trans or like should i look into my feelings being about something else?"

You can do whatever you want forever! There's no benchmark you need to meet in order to be trans, and nobody else can tell you if you're trans or not. Honestly, I recommend setting that whole label aside for a while, if you feel bogged down by this kind of question. Who cares if you "count" as trans or not? What matters is what you want, who you want to be, and what feels good to you. Labels should be used to describe what you already know about yourself, not the other way around.

Lots of trans people want the exact same thing you've expressed here, so you wouldn't be alone! And some cis people want that, too.

"is there any chance i could achieve what i want with my face while still taking T (I really want the fat redistribution)?"

Yes, there's a chance! How T impacts you is super dependent on genetics, so you may end up looking the way you want to... and you might not! I also personally found that what I wanted from T actually changed after I went on it; I ended up loving a lot of the changes that I thought I wouldn't like so much. Ultimately, my decision to go on T was mostly based around the knowledge that I was not happy with my body as it was, I did want a lot of the effects of T, and I decided I would be happier rolling the dice and trading off what I didn't like then for what I might not like later. I also decided that I could go off T at any time if I decided that I didn't want those changes anymore, and that I would be making the decision to be on T each time I took it, rather than once and forever.

"I’m also absolutely terrified about losing my hair and i’d heard it depends on my father? but i took the hair gene from mom?"

Male pattern baldness (MPB) comes through the X chromosome. If you have XY chromosomes (like most people who are AMAB), you inherit one X chromosome from your mother, and one Y chromosome from your father. If you have XX chromosomes (like most people who are AFAB), you get one X chromosome from each parent, so you can inherit MPB from either parent.

MPB is also treatable; if your hair starts to thin an abnormal amount, or if you're just worried about it (or have MPB on both sides of your family) you can ask your doctor about treatment options. There are topical options as well as oral medications, and while I have heard it's much harder to reverse, it's actually fairly easy to prevent.

"I’m worried that queer guys won’t look at me twice"

My boyfriend is a cis queer man... many such cases. Queer guys will absolutely look at you twice. Some will look at you thrice. Many will look at you twice entirely because you are trans, and some of those will be doing so because trans people are hot and they see us as people (and not just sex objects for their own benefit).

Also, I really recommend basing your transition on your personal happiness with your body and self first; if the people around you can't be happy for you, they genuinely are not worth keeping around. People who care about you in a real and healthy way will be happy for your happiness!

I'm so serious about this, anon. My dad changed his whole opinion on trans people when I came out because he a) did not want to lose me, and b) saw that it made me happy. The man was conservative (and maybe still is...?), but he cares about me enough that he reconsidered his whole worldview for me. You deserve that kind of love. Everyone does.

"I’m also going to be in a new, big city in september and should i just start by telling people i’m a guy?"

I like your idea of just telling folks you're a guy with no further explanation! This also really depends on where you're going, if you think you'll be safe in doing this, how long you'll be there, if you'll be starting T/expect to see changes.... etc. If you were, for example, going to Seattle for a few months and wanted to try the "guy" hat on for a bit just to see how it feels, I'd say go for it! If you feel like you'll be reasonably safe and you think this is the way you'll want to continue to be perceived for some time, that would also probably be a solid choice. But it's context-dependent, and I think you might need to feel it out for yourself and ask some folks with more context!

I also want to challenge the "girl/guy" binary I think I'm reading in your ask: you don't have to choose one or the other! Nonbinary people exist, and there is such an incredible range of experiences and genders outside of the male/female binary. So many people relate to so many of them, in so many different ways! Infinite gender experiences! If you feel comfortable as a man, that's awesome; if you feel like you might be something else entirely, or both, or one of them and some other stuff, that's also great! If this is all new to you, please take some time to learn more about nonbinary genders & experiences from nonbinary people. I promise it's more than worth it.

You are not alone, there are so many people who will love you for whoever you are, and good luck!

[this-should-do]

as u command @ollykapelput​ o7

okay so like gordon and being trans, 

like the main thing that i use as a way to duscuss gordon and being himself becuase of how good it is at representing autonomy and mental states is his hair

like in relation to being trans, its already such a thign for trans people, and performing certain gender visuals, and like gordon likes having his hair long, he just does, it part of how he wants to present himself to the world (and hoh boy, is presentation and perception sooo important to gordon, he needs to keep his public image perfect) but its also sucha complicated thign for gordon as well thats hes grappled with, hes got trauma from peopel touching and playingwiht it without his permission simply cuz he kept it really long as a kid (and he also is just sooooo touch averse) and becuz he was a weird girl when he was little he dealt with bullying as well and it was used to grab at him (a tool for later). then as he hits puberty he starts really realizing a)somethings up with his being and b) long ahir even tho he likes it makes him look more girlish and eventually all that culminates to him cutting his hair in a fit of frustration and rage at it all, afterwards his moms and one oftheir friends that gordonw as close to all support and love him and help him transition once he graduates high school (2 years early no less)

once he starts to transition he feels comfortable enough in his passing and sense of self and identity that he can grow out his hair again for a lil mullet that he, as with all parts of his identity, preens religiously

queue the rescas, and now gordon is going thru an intensely traumatizing situation and his hair is once again is entirely out of place with who he needs to be, its in teh way and the soldiers grab it to hold him down (paralleling bullies from childhood) and eventually he reaches a breaking point where he has to cut it off in a fit of despair and frustration which represents a change of self, and now he is contantly dirty and grimy and he doesnt get the chance to clean himself and continue his perfect presentation of self, and hes never perfect in his new role, people hes meant to save get killed in so many ways and he ant stop it or causes it, and his identity is being altered and controlled by forces outside his control to better fit what people need of him and he has to force down his own personality and needs to do so

now as far as logistics in gordons transition, its ROUGH becuz if he starts stransitioning as soon as he gets out of high school (again 2 yrs early becuz hes special like that) that puts him transitioning in 1992, at teh earliest, i made things easier for him becuz one of his moms is trans and hsi moms have a wide network of otehr queer friends, so theyre able to find places and doctors that would make transition faster for gordon, he would also have to have already been in therapy in order to receive the required diagnoses to be able to get access to medical trasiitonal reousrces, particularly hormone treatment, so hed have a year under his belt before he went to college and also have time to get a job before he goes to college. hed also take the time to get any other requiremnts needed to change his name and birth certificate so when he applies to college hes treated as he wants and can do his best to go stealth since hes so young he can still be feasibly going thru puberty so changes are less obvious. if he didnt already need any surgerys to change his documents, hed get top surgery over summer after freshman year. gordon as far as i have planned tho was going to get bottom surgery at some point after the rescas, i did that becuz i thought it was sad, and also it is less public so it wasnt as nesscesary to the money was needed for other things but working at black mesa a few years means money to spare, but i might change the placement on that since that was an older descion beore i did sum research on stuff, i still need to do more tho becuz it is so hard to find sources on what old regulations were in in washington state for changeing legal docs so i have no fucking clue the specifics smh

your mind. your trans gordon lore has consumed my every thought. how does it feel to be so right

it feels great being told by mutliple peolle i am a ref and the first thing they tuink of when they think ahlf life thanks for asking anyways

*starts vibrating with excitement" trans gordon is real and true i have so much actual non metaphor/derived from the games trans things that dirwctly play jnto his characterization that i have consteucted and it is reffed as a main background concept in my longest fic and logistics on his transition to be somewhat believable since he wouldve had to transition in the 90s coming off the 80s and the aids crisis amd hes a transexual and its important to me and and and and-

[demilypyro]

This might be a dumb/bad question, but how did you start transitioning? I’m going to be going off to college soon and I’d like to finally start or figure things out more. Idk I feel like a deer in the headlights when I think about gender stuff, and you just look like you’ve gotten the ideal path for transitioning.

Well, after realizing what was going on in the summer of 2018, and a few weeks of researching the topic and becoming sure of myself, I came out to my parents and I contacted my doctor. You might say I decided to do something about it pretty much right away. I wasn't willing to wait and get any older. I came in for an appointment, where he gave me a preliminary diagnosis for gender dysphoria and referred me to a transition clinic, where they had people who could diagnose me fully. With the preliminary diagnosis I was able to get insurance coverage for surface level treatments like facial hair removal.

The clinic had a waiting list of 6 months, that was pretty rough, and then I had to go there for another 6 months of psychological evaluations, which was also pretty rough. By this point I was out to classmates and college faculty. After the evaluation period I received my full diagnosis, which allowed me to get my legal name and gender changed, and apply for hormone therapy. Finding a doctor who could prescribe the therapy took another few months of searching, but I finally received my HRT prescription in March of 2020, almost a year and a half after figuring out I was transgender. I've been on HRT since.

[softtransbf]

Fresh Blood, Old Scars Part 1

You'd disappeared 15 years ago without a trace- what's Yancy supposed to do when you walk into Happy Trails Penitentiary and don't recognize him, because he's transitioned? canon compliant trans!yancy/reader

Reader: he/him trans man, no physical description

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of violence, canonical and parental. deadnaming and misgendering before either of you came out (none by anyone who knows the correct name/pronouns)

Word Count: 2,690

“Hey Yancy, I heard there’s fresh blood comin’ in today for some sorta museum heist.”

“Oh? Know anything else about these guys, so we can give ‘em a proper welcome, Bambam?”

“I know some. The first guy, Mark Iplier, claimed to have been in charge of the whole thing, but from what my sources said, it’s the partner that ran the show- just real quiet-like. I’ve been told that he don’t say a word.”

“Got a name for this, uh, silent partner?” He chuckled at his joke.

“Y/N L/N.” Yancy’s stomach dropped the way it always did when he heard that last name, your last name. Get your shit together. Wrong first name, and Bambam said he and his. Bambam don’t use pronouns other than they/them unless they’re sure. It’s just some guy with the same last name.

“Yance, you okay?” Tiny waved his hand in front of Yancy’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, just, uh, thinkin about how best to greet dese guys. The usual, wit Don’t Wanna Be Free ready just in case?”

“Right off the bat? You really think they’re that high of a flight risk?” Sparkles finally spoke up.

“I, uh, I don’t trust dem silent-types. They’s always schemin’, got somethin goin ahn in their heads.” And if he's anything like- yeah. Gone before you know it.

“Okay, if you say so. I’ll go let the others know.” Yancy didn’t even register who was speaking; he was too lost in memories.

- 15 years earlier-

Yancy knew it wasn’t cool to be excited for the first day of school when you’re a senior in high school, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need or even want to be cool- all he needed was to be your friend. Well, maybe not just friend. You’d been gone for almost the entire summer, and he’d spent the whole time figuring out how to both ask you out and tell you that he’s a guy.

He practically skipped across the street to your house so you can walk to school together, like you had every day since middle school. He knocked- nothing. Rang the doorbell- still nothing. He checked the back door and the spots where you had hidden spare keys over the years- nothing. All the curtains were drawn, too, so he couldn’t see inside. He kept trying as long as he possibly could before he had to sprint to make it to class just barely in time. All day, he kept an eye on the door, waiting for you- the two of you made sure to sign up for the exact same schedule before you went on your vacation. At lunch, he went to the office to see what he could find out.

“Y/DN isn’t a student here anymore- Mr L/N just told us last week.”

“What? Do you know where they went?”

“I’m sorry, hon, I don’t. All I know is that Y/DN is no longer a student here.”

He’d never ditched a class in his life, but that was the last thing on his mind as he ran home, crying. He didn’t stop crying for weeks.

-Present -

He’d never wanted to be wrong more in his life, but there you were. Looking better than he’d ever dreamed, following Mark around silently as he blabbered on about wanting to rally the other inmates to try to break out. No. I lost you once, and it cost me everything. I’m not about to lose you again. He quickly spread the word to skip pleasantries with the new guys and prepare for the song. As he was, you made eye contact with him from across the room. His heart dropped; you didn’t recognize him. You looked right through him, with the same calculating expression you gave everyone else. Of course he wasn’t gonna recognize you, dumbass. You’ve been on hormones for years and have had top surgery. Usually Yancy loved that he couldn’t see anything of the person he used to be in the mirror, but today he hated it more than anything in the world. Stick to the plan, Yance. He doesn’t recognize me, but it might be better this way. This way, I can get him to stay and get to know me as I am now, and he won’t be disappointed that I haven’t become anything like what we dreamed of so long ago.

Yancy couldn’t have planned it better, Mark practically begging Jimmy to punch him through the wall right before the show started, leaving you alone.

The number went great, as always, but then you showed him a picture of your parents. He knew that picture; you took it when the four of you went on a vacation together before you started your freshman year of high school. He also knew that he had once been in the picture, but you’d cut him out. The tape and staples that had been holding his heart together since you left fell away.

He stuck with his usual response to people citing family for wanting to leave, for the most part. No one at Happy Trails knew about you, and he’d killed his parents before they could leave him, so he’d kept his true abandonment issues to himself. Face to face with you after all these years, though, he couldn’t stop himself from adding “they’re always just gonna leave you behind” and a warning about trifling with the past. You flinched a little at both of those, and a spark of hope ignited in his chest- maybe you hadn’t forgotten about him, even if you didn’t recognize him now.

Then you still chose to leave. The rest of the rather single-sided conversation was a blur to him. Later, as he was tending to his injuries in solitary, he remembered calling you handsome and/or beautiful and your blush when he did. And, of course, you knocking him flat on his ass. He’d challenged you to a fight, because he’d always been able to beat you before. The part that truly left him confused, though, was why he offered to help you break out.

All he’d wanted for the last fifteen years was to go back to the day you left and beg you to stay. He’d told himself dozens, maybe hundreds, of times that if he ever saw you again, he’d do everything in his power to keep you with him. On his darker and angrier days, he truly meant everything. But here you are, and he offered to help you leave. This is what you get for even hoping someone might stick around. Let’s just do this. I gotta stop in with the warden first, though…

“Me? Out there? With you?” He chuckled. You had no idea that, with that simple gesture, you offered him everything he’d wanted for so long. Fuck, I don’t deserve him. I still love him, but he deserves someone better than the angry, selfish man I am. The fragments of his heart splintered even more. “I, um. I done a lotta bad things. And, uh.” He made himself brighten up. “This is home! For now, anyway. Maybe next time parole comes up, I’ll, uh” take it and go find you like I should have fifteen years ago. And I’ll spend every minute until then trying to become the kind of man you deserve. “Anyway, I gotta get back to it. You take care now, you hear? And, hey, visitation! Every third Sunday!” You looked down at the box you’d brought with you, and he ran. When he got back to his cell, he cried genuine tears for the first time since that August day when his world turned upside down.

- 2 weeks later, visitation day -

He knew hoping you’d come was a waste of time, and that he was just setting himself up for more pain. He’d learned the hard way that when you were gone, that was that. But still, there he was, looking up every time a guard walked into the room. As expected, they never called his name. The rest of the inmates gave him a wide berth as he went back to his cell for the night, and they were right to. He was itching for an excuse to fight. No one gave him one, though, so he told himself he’d find one tomorrow and got ready for bed.

When he got to his cell, it took him just one second to realize there was someone on his bed, pull them off, and shove them against the wall. It took him three more to process that it was you, and then another five to step back and let you go.

“Sorry for scaring you, Yancy. I didn’t mean to. It’s just… it’s visitation day, but I’m still wanted for the escape you helped me pull off, and I haven’t decided if I want to come back for good or not.” He stood there, frozen. You chuckled nervously. “I get it, your turn to be the quiet one. I’m sorry about that, by the way. There was a lot to process all at once, and I just kinda shut down when I get overwhelmed.”

I know. I remember that you didn’t say a single word our first day of high school, Yancy wanted to say. He wanted to say something, anything, but you being there and so close was just too much.

“Okay, so, honesty time; there’s a specific reason I came back.” You took a deep breath. “I haven’t been able to shake this feeling that I know you, somehow. But I know I’d remember meeting you- no way I’d forget someone like you. Anyway, I'm probably way off base and ridiculous. I guess I just wanted to tell you?” You ran your hand through your hair. “God, that sounds even flimsier than it felt in my head. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It, uh. It means a lot that you came back to say that.”

“Uh, Yancy? What happened to your accent?”

“Shit. Um. C’mere.” He muttered, as he sat down on his bed and pulled you down next to him. He prayed that you couldn’t hear how his heart started racing when he noticed your knees were touching. “No one here knows that the accent isn’t how I always speak. Not even the warden. I’ve been here five years and haven’t dropped it once. Anyone learns about this, and you’re dead, understand?” He knew that the threat was empty, but you seemed to believe it.

“Yeah, yeah, I do, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. I gotta ask, though- why fake it? It seems like a lot of effort. You don’t owe me an explanation, of course, but since you’re heart-on-your-sleeve about your parents, it must be one hell of a reason. I bet it’d feel good to let it off your chest. I can promise to leave and never come back if you do- a burden shared is a burden halved, and if I’m gone, you can be 100% sure no one here will know.”

He took a deep breath. “Something flipped my world on its head, and I needed to distance myself from who I was before. That’s an odd phrase, though- ‘a burden shared is a burden halved’. Where’d you pick that up?”

“Oh, um. The mom of someone I loved a long time ago used to say it a lot. It just kinda stuck, I guess.”

“Loved, huh? You break their heart, or did they break yours?” Yancy was surprised he got the words out without his voice shaking or cracking. You were silent for a long time, and Yancy was sure he’d pushed too hard and you would completely shut down or, worse, leave altogether.

“Sorry, I haven’t talked about this… ever." Your voice shook. "I’ve never talked to anyone about this. I don’t know if I was loved back, but if so, I was the heartbreaker. I didn’t mean to be- I couldn’t control having to leave, and I didn’t know I wasn’t coming back until it was too late. I couldn’t say goodbye. I’ve hoped every day for the last fifteen years that my feelings were unrequited, though. I’m happy to have the pain of an unrequited first love if it means she wasn’t heartbroken.” The incorrect pronoun stung a bit, but you didn’t know, and you’d loved him back all those years ago. He was invincible.

“Have you tried reaching out? Even if your feelings were one-sided, I think you owe it to both of you to say them, at least once.” He reached out and took your hands without thinking. You didn't stop him, and he felt like he could fly.

“I tried, actually. About eight years ago, I'd, uh, escaped and was finally an actual person again after everything that was done to and taken from me, so I started looking for her. But it’s like she vanished off the face of the earth five years to the day after we were separated. It’s actually how I met Mark- I got into some deep and shady shit looking. I only gave up last year. Nothing turned up in seven years of searching, so I have to figure that she did something incredibly stupid a decade ago and got herself killed.”

“I didn’t die. Just the name did.” Yancy breathed. A half second later, he realized he’d said it out loud, and his heart stopped. You took your hands out of his and scooted away.

“Yancy. Are you trying to tell me that you’re- that we- oh my god. It is you. I knew I knew you. Everything else is different, but I should have recognized your eyes. I guess some part of me did. But you- I- I thought you were dead.”

“As you can see, I’m not dead, Brain. And for the record, your feelings were definitely not one-sided.” He reached out and cupped your cheek with one hand.

“Shit, Pinky, it really is you.”

Yancy had dreamed about how seeing you again would go in a million different ways. Not a single one of those included you practically jumping into his lap and kissing him with a lifetime's worth of love and want.

He let out an undignified whine when you broke the kiss. “Wait, wait. You knew from the second I walked in here who I was, didn’t you? You tried so hard to stop me from leaving… but then you helped me do just that. You chose to stay here when I asked you to come with me. Then I came back, and you got me to say all those things… And we’re both trans and wound up here? This is all just. So much. I can’t- I can’t do this.” You got off his lap and scooted to the far end of the bed.

“What are you saying, Y/N? That you’re leaving? Again?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

You stood up and faced him. “You do not get to play that card. You don’t know how much I went through trying to find a way to tell you I was sorry, that I didn’t know that the trip was a permanent one until we were on the other side of the country. Dad said that I'd never see mom again, and he’d kill me if I tried to get in touch with you or anyone else from back home. He broke my arm to prove he meant it. I can’t stay here to unpack all of this. I have to go. But you can come with me. I mean it even more now than I did last time. I’m not leaving you, I’m leaving here.”

You walked to the cell door and looked back at him with a sigh. “But I know you, and you have a family here. I’ll get you my address- it’s your turn to come to me, when you’re ready. I’ve waited 15 years to be with you again, what’s a little bit longer?” Without giving him a chance to respond, you kissed him again and were gone.

[ialwaysgobacktoit]

Time to rest your weary head: Part 13!

IT TOOK ME LONG ENOUGH, but it is here!!! As I explained before, I was facing the last weeks of my semester, delivering final papers and such, but now I'm freee!!!! I thank you all for your patience and eternal support, really <3 hope you like this one! :)))

Also tagging some of my beautiful readers <3 @madie2200 @katiebellf @starbornsinger

Last thing: I wanna leave here my praise to all fic writers and fanfiction and headcanons I had the pleasure of reading on this website; you all inspire me so much, and I’m glad to say I am a part of such a beautiful net of sharing and reading other’s stories :) you are awesome and you inspire me to keep on writing! Thank you :)

Check out the Chapter List and Part 12 if you haven't read it yet!

It was late, but Azriel didn’t mind. He felt like he could explode: like all of a sudden, all his life made much more sense.

He had a mate.

That mate was Gwyn.

And Gwyn had kissed him.

As he jumped off the balcony at the House of Wind, diving fast before soaring, he couldn’t contain his grin. His heart hadn’t stopped thundering in his chest ever since he got to her door. They kissed, and he sensed her affection and desire as sure as she had felt his. He held her in his arms, just like he had that night all those weeks ago. And he had missed so badly doing so, he realized the second he felt her hand on his cheek, caressing him in a way no one ever had, before she enlaced her arms behind his neck.

He felt like a teenager, his Ilyrian hormones pumping through his body, making him restless and euphoric. He wanted so bad to go back, to just stay with her, to make up any excuse to see her, to wake her up, to lay down with her. To spend every second he had right next to her, learning all the different ways he could make her glow.

For so long, he deemed himself worthless; tainted and scarred and damaged. But now he could see that perhaps that wasn’t true. He was hurt, but he could heal; everyone had a past, and it shouldn’t prevent them from living their present. And Gwyn… She was the reason he started believing that. That he had hope left, and that maybe…. Maybe he could care about himself just like others cared about him.

It took a second to realize he was crying. Alone, just him and his shadows, as he soared and spun across the night sky, he was crying. Sobbing and laughing uncontrollably at the same time. He breathed in and out, trying to calm his racing heart, but he still let the tears flow; he still kept smiling, the image of Gwyn’s face never fading from his mind.

Feeling the cold wind across his face, he landed on the pathway to the River House. It was all dark, but he could see a dim light from one of the windows. Rhys’s study.

Rhys. He lowered his mental shields enough so he could voice his brother’s name. Are you there?

Silence, before Rhys’s voice sounded. Yes. Are you alright?

I need to talk to you. May I come in?

He heard footsteps approaching the front door, and then Rhysand was staring at him, violet eyes dark in the dim light. “Come in, brother.”

He was greeted by the image of Nesta facing him, that huge portrait that Feyre had painted some time ago, after The Blood Rite. The house was silent, and all he could hear was his steps as he followed Rhysand to his study.

When he closed the door, Rhysand had just sat down at his armchair.

“Are Feyre and Nyx asleep?”

“Fortunately. The kid’s been having some trouble sleeping these last few months, therefore so have we.” He snorted, but smiled fondly at the thought of his family. “Sit down, Az.”

He obliged, and felt the way Rhys sized him up, trying to decipher what was going on with him. And although Azriel’s expression yielded nothing, he didn’t make an effort to wipe away his tears from before; so his brother was probably putting up the pieces together by now.

Azriel didn’t leave enough time for him to do so, as he again talked to him mentally.

Gwyn is my mate. But I reckon you already know that.

I do. I suppose it didn’t go well, then.

And Cauldron-damn him if he didn’t start laughing at that. And not a bitter one, but a true, genuine chuckle that made Rhys’s brows shot up and a bemused smile appeared on his face.

“It went more than well, actually.” Azriel corrected, shaking his head as he looked to the ground, still smiling. “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” His brother shifted in his seat, resting his elbows in his knees and interlocking his fingers.

So Azriel explained what Rhys needed to do for them. He honestly didn’t care if his family knew or not about their mating bond, but was well aware Gwyn might need some time to adjust – and the required privacy to do so. And that was fine with him; as long as he was able to spend time with her, he’d be happy. In any way she wanted.

When he was finished, they stood in silence for a couple of seconds.

“So, I see you have your shot at happiness in your hands at last, brother.” Rhysand stated, with a knowing smile on his face.

“I do.”

“She was very good at refraining from telling you. Of course, I didn’t mean to pry when I found out. But do you know why I read her thoughts that night?”

Azriel shook his head, and watched as his brother declared with a low tone.

“She was just sitting there, in a midst of people whom she didn’t have familiarity with, and you were by your usual spot, talking to Mor. And she was just staring at you, eyes full of an emotion I couldn’t decipher, but I knew what that gesture meant. She couldn’t keep herself from looking at you, just as you couldn’t stop from glancing at her time and time again during the evening: like you were drawn to each other. I was going to ask her if she needed to talk about it, though I knew it was none of my business and she was unlikely to do so, but then I read her thoughts about you being mates.”

“That’s why I didn’t meddle in. I was witnessing something way bigger than me, and I think you know what I mean.” He finished, and completed “That’s why I - and Feyre - kept quiet about it.”

All Azriel could do was laugh quietly again at the mention of his High Lady. “Of course she’d know.”

“My dear brother, I learned by experience you shouldn’t keep things from your mate, even if it is to protect them. You're supposed to walk through it together.” Regret crossed Rhysand’s face at that confession.

Azriel knew that although his brother claimed to hide the details of Feyre’s pregnancy from her not to worry her, it wasn’t exactly fair all the same.

“But I’m certain you’ll learn that with time.” He completed, leaning over to pat Azriel on his knee. “So, don’t worry. I will do as you ask.”

Azriel nodded his thanks and stood up, meaning to leave. But, just as he was reaching the door, a thought occurred and he turned again to his High Lord.

“Rhys” He kept sitting on his chair, staring at him expectantly “It took me long enough to realize, but I’m glad you stopped me that Solstice night.”

Rhysand let out a soft chuckle at that, and bowed his head slightly, raising his glass. Knowing well what Azriel had meant with that.

****

His shadows were restless. He barely slept during the rest of the evening, his mind too awake to give in to slumber. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was slightly nervous to see Gwyn again – and to see if they’re new acknowledged bond would stand out or if Rhysand’s spell would work. He wouldn’t doubt of his High Lord and brother, but still. He wanted to see it for himself.

He stood in the training ring ever since sunrise. Gwyn had gone to her usual morning service and he hadn’t seen her, only felt her absence in the House, both an effect from the mating bond and his shadows, since they were so eager to be around her. So he sparred for hours, waiting for the moment training began and he would see her again.

The priestesses started to arrive right about the time Cassian showed up.

“Morning, brother”

Azriel nodded back, and turned to arrange the practice swords and shields into place, preparing the room.

“How was last night?”

He could sense Cassian’s presence behind him, and the innuendo in his sly tone. Gwyn’s image appeared in his mind once again, her burgundy dress complimenting her body’s every feature. He could feel her in his arms, their proximity and heat, the way he kissed her with all need and tenderness he ever felt towards her, the small sound she made when he pulled her close, pressing their bodies together… He was cut short from his thoughts when Cassian cleared his throat, suppressing a laugh.

“I can scent everything went well, then.”

Fuck.

He started thinking about other things, anything at all, to cover his desiring scent. It wasn’t professional nor respectful to appear that way in front of the Priestesses, even though Cassian and Nesta didn’t seem to mind covering their own arousal multiple times during all these months.

It was right at that moment Cassian’s mate and Gwyn arrived, their voices filling up the air. Azriel was still with his back to the door, and counted a total of five seconds before turning around and facing the deep teal ocean that were Gwyn’s eyes.

Like the seas in Reyna.

His shadows whispered one of Summer Court’s many beaches, the quietest, most isolated and beautiful one. Azriel felt a subtle need to take her there someday, to travel around Prythian with her, to watch her explore and discover the continent, her face lighting up with each new sight.

He casually approached the two females, who were still talking while they began their stretching on the mats.

“Good morning.” He let out, dipping his head a bit.

“Hello.” Gwyn greeted back, meeting his eyes. He watched as she breathed, noticing every detail of her exposed neck and freckled cheeks before meeting her eyes. It was a monumental effort to not scan her entire body and take in all of her curves. She seemed to notice that, and with a thrilling sensation he watched her face blush.

“Good morning to you too, Azriel” Nesta mocked, interrupting their charged silence. “Did you enjoy your evening?”

She directed this particular question to both of them. Gwyn finally tore her eyes away from Azriel, doing nothing to conceal her flushed cheeks.

“Yes.” She nodded a bit timidly, biting down her lip to keep her from smiling further, and met her friend’s inquisitive stare with a sparkle that almost sent Azriel to his knees.

Damn. That female would be the death of him.

“We did indeed.” Azriel found himself agreeing, his voice rough all of a sudden. His shadows reached towards Gwyn, desperately trying to turn her attention to him, to them. He wanted to be lost in those teal eyes again, to be alone with her.

“I’m glad to hear that, Gwyn.” Nesta smiled kindly to Gwyn, honesty and pride in her tone. “Although you’re aware you’ll have to give me more details later.”

Gwyn rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, continuing her warm-up exercises while Nesta stood up. As she went on to stretch her thigh, holding it behind her back, she leaned on Azriel, placing one hand on his shoulder to steady herself and taking advantage of the situation by voicing quietly:

“You hurt my sister and I’ll make you regret it, Spymaster.”

His shadows protectively wrapped around his shoulders, but he was well accustomed to Nesta and they had developed a great friendship after all those months. He could always understand and read through her pain and aggressiveness, even when others didn’t. He did believe her words, though. She, pretty much like him, would do anything to protect the ones she loved.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He nodded once, staring into her piercing eyes, and she patted his shoulder once, seeming satisfied with his answer, before pushing back and striding towards Cassian.

Gwyn kept stretching on the floor, but he could see she heard everything they said by her amused smile as she watched her friend walking away. Azriel reached his hand towards her, and she faced him again and grabbed it, helping herself up.

They were standing face to face now, hands still intertwined. He could hear Cassian and Nesta organizing the Priestesses in the background, the rustle of robes and training leathers as they moved across the training ring. But he couldn’t care less, not when he was holding his mate’s hand, face mere inches from hers.

“It seems you just got intimated by Nesta, huh?” She teased.

He shrugged: “It’s nothing to which I’m not used to by now.”

She chuckled, her eyes crinkling and her voice a sweet melody to his ears. He couldn’t stop but join her, with a quiet laugh. He could feel both Cassian and Nesta’s stare on them, observing their every move. It didn’t seem like the couple caught up on the scent of their mating bond, even though that faint chill mist mixed with water lilies, the combination of him and her, was currently inebriating his senses.

“Could we see each other later today?” Gwyn surprised him by asking, her big bright eyes waiting expectantly for him to answer.

She took a sudden breath, like she was trying to capture the new scent they shared as well, and Azriel found his lips blooming into a smile, both at the thought and at the request:

“I’d love to.”

She beamed “You can meet me at the library, if you are free.”

Gods, she was stunning. He couldn’t stop counting her freckles, observing the way her ponytail twirled behind her back, marveling at how warm her hand felt against his. What a strange and powerful feeling, he thought; to miss someone with that intensity, to desire more than anything to be close to them at all times.

And Azriel wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’ll be there.”

***

And so he went. After successfully ignoring most of Cassian and Nesta’s teasing remarks through training and lunch, none of them, however, related to the mating bond, Azriel found himself heading towards the library.

He was greeted by Clotho as soon as he entered the space, her magic pen already moving.

Good afternoon, Azriel. What can I do for you?

“I’m looking for Gwyn.” He cordially bowed his head to the Priestess.

Do you want me to call her?

“Thank you, but there is no need. If you could just tell me in which section she is I’ll meet her there, if that’s ok.”

“Ancient hymns and rituals”, third floor down to the right. You’ll find her.

He swore something about the way that magic pen swirled at the last sentence had a tinge of cheekiness, mischief even. So he gave Clotho a soft smile and went into the depths of the library, descending the stars and carefully avoiding staring directly at any Priestess that walked by, only greeting quietly the ones he knew from training.

As usual, his shadows kept swirling faster and faster with each step closer to Gwyn, excited at the prospect of being alone with her. Well, not alone entirely, but Azriel didn’t particularly care at the moment. He knew the curious eyes directed at them would be much more discreet than the ones at training – or anywhere else, for a matter of fact.

He could hear her before he saw her, humming softly as she labeled and stored a few books back on their spots. His heart thrummed against his chest, and he leaned on a shelf across from where she stood, still absorbed in her task, humming the same sweet melody over and over again.

Before he managed to say anything, one of his shadows darted to touch her hand, and her eyes lifted from the book she was holding and met his, her mouth quirked to the side.

“How long have you been there?” She put down the book and crossed her arms in front of her chest, lifting an eyebrow.

His shadows had encapsulated her shoulders and hair now, in a way that she seemed to be the Shadowsinger, and not him. He commanded them to get back to their places, but in vain. He honestly didn’t know why he even tried anymore.

“Not long.” He finally pushed away from his place by the shelf and stepped towards her, while she did the same.

He grabbed her hand, his thumb feeling her soft skin. His shadows encircled them both now, creating a dark cloud in an already dim-lit room. Gwyn laughed at them; curiously following their patterns with her eyes, hand still intertwined with his.

“They never did that before, with anyone.” Azriel observed the way his shadows expanded and darkened around and above them.

“Well, as you said before, they like me. If I were you, I’d be worried they might run away and come to me. I wouldn’t mind at all. Curious little things.”

When he faced her again she was staring at him with such intent he drew a ragged breath, mind focusing only on the female before him. The poor lighting of this particular hallway made her eyes darken, her pupils dilate, mouth slightly parted. Her copper hair now a shade of deep red, like molten fire. He just wanted to kiss each and every one of her freckles, from her face to her neck and below.

The thought made his body ache for her, his pants growing uncomfortably tight. He breathed deep, once, twice, in order to calm his mind and thoughts, but was cut short when her lips met his.

His arms instantly found their way to her hips, gripping her gently. She tugged her hands in his hair, pressing herself against him as the kiss deepened, her lips parting wider to give him access. He enlaced one arm around her, keeping her close and placing his other hand in the back of her neck. He could hear a song, an ancient melody spreading from them, an array of strings and choirs.

When they parted at last, her eyes were wide.

“Did you hear that?” She whispered as they breathed in each other’s scent. Her hands were still on his hair, and he couldn’t take his hands off her just yet, placing them steadily on her hips once again.

He nodded, smiling, and she laughed silently before continuing: “It was magical.”

He leaned to kiss her once again, stopping for a brief second and silently asking for her permission to continue. She closed her eyes, lifting her face, and a soft sigh escaped her lips when they met his for the second time. It was softer this time, tender. Azriel didn’t know if something could ever feel better than this, than having his mate in his arms; than having Gwyn in his arms.

When they parted, he rested his forehead on hers, their breaths mingling. The scent of their mating bond stronger this time, only enough for them to sense it.

“Do you think they could feel it today?” Gwyn seemed to read his mind. “Our scent.”

He met her ocean eyes and shook his head: “Well, Nesta has a sharp mind, and Cassian knows me my entire life. They definitely suspect something.” He huffed a laugh “But not relating to the bond. They probably think is a crush thing.”

She laughed at him, teasingly: “Is it, Shadowsinger? A crush thing?”

“It’s so much more and you know it, Berdara.” He answered in the same tone, but he knew by the way she swallowed once that she heard the husk in his voice, sensing the promise in his words.

Someone is near. Priestesses.

His shadows curled around his ear and he retreated a step, just enough to allow a casual distance between them. Gwyn turned her head to the sound of robes shuffling by, and looked at him again. “Care to join me?” She offered, nodding towards the cart with a loving smile.

“Gladly.”

They fell into a comfortable routine after Gwyn taught him how to shelve the books she cataloged and labeled; sometimes she hummed or sang something to herself, and it was usually at those times when he paused what he was doing, bewitched by her voice. Even the movements of the other Priestesses seemed to still when Gwyn sang, the whole world going quiet. Usually, though, she noticed the subtle halt in his movements after a few moments, and interrupted herself by laughing at his reaction.

If Azriel could exchange the work he did as a Spymaster to just label and store books with Gwyn the whole afternoon, he would. Even if he knew the importance of his work, he would trade everything in a heartbeat just to be with her. Or perhaps he really needed a break.

There was a time in which he thought his spying to be the only thing that he was meant to do. And there was so much in it that he disliked: the torture, the gore. But maybe… Maybe it was time for him to start making some changes. For his sake, and the ones he loved.

“What are you thinking about?”

Her quiet voice distracted him from his thoughts. He shook his head, shelving another book, and turned to her, finding her kind eyes staring straight back at him. “It’s nothing.”

“Az.” Gwyn reached for him, holding his hand in hers “You know you can tell me.”

“It’s just” He gazed at their joint hands and sighed “I did such bad things in the past, and have been doing it for so long… I'm tired of it.”

She lifted a hand and brushed her fingers against his skin, meeting his stare. “You did a lot of great things too, Azriel. Like helping your friends, your family, your people… And me.” She smiled, reassuringly. “You were the one who saved me that night all those nights ago, and then helped me stand up back on my feet every morning after it. You helped me become who I am today.”

Her tenderness broke him, touched a place inside him he was just starting to realize he had, and he took a deep breath before he took her hands in his, lifting them to meet his lips. The only possible reaction he could have to all that gentleness without allowing tears to fall; and he prayed to the Mother it could convey everything he felt.

The way Gwyn smiled and leaned in to softly kiss his cheek gave him his answer.

[pikablu410]

Baked Goods

The sun was out, a few clouds scattered about, and the wind was at Tim’s back as he walked to a group mate's house on a Saturday afternoon. Tim was a young guy, a junior in high school, and with the physique of one. He was pretty thin, with a bit of muscle from hormones and whatnot. Tim never really prided himself on his body, but he wasn’t really ashamed of it. Plus, he was planning on going to the gym more often during the summer to build some muscle. 

Tim was wearing some white sneakers, a black t-shirt, and some jeans. He just got on the first things he saw in his closet, not really bothering to think about his outfit too much since he was just going to see some friends today. 

While Tim didn’t have any particularly strong feelings for Josh, the group mate’s house he was walking to, he was forced to work with him since his other friends, Dylan and Austin, had chosen him to work on a group project with them. Josh didn’t live far away from all of them, so they were all able to meet up at his house to work on the project easily and quickly. 

Josh was also openly gay, while neither Tim nor his friends working on the project were. Regardless, none of them saw it as an issue since Josh was nice person who everyone just saw as the gay kid at school. Sure, he could be a little too open about his affection towards other guys, fondling their hair and getting a bit too close to them, but he never intended to be weird or harmful. Tim didn’t really care either way since he hadn’t interacted with Josh before, and he didn’t plan on talking to him more after this. This was just a group project; nothing more, nothing less.

Tim walked up the concrete steps to Josh’s house and knocked three times in succession. Quickly afterwards, a bit too quickly for Tim who jumped back when the door suddenly opened, Josh was at the doorstep welcoming Tim inside.

“Hey Tim! Glad to see you got here safe!” Josh kindly sang. He was a person who always put on a joyful front, which was a bit annoying but Tim decided he could deal with it.

“Am I the first one here? There’s no papers out or anything.” Tim observed, walking into the living room where an oak coffee table sat in front of a dark blue, comfy looking sofa. 

“Yeah, Austin said he was almost here. I’m not sure where Dylan is, but he hasn’t said he isn’t coming at least!” Josh joked, hoping to brighten the mood. He didn’t know Tim too well, so he was hoping he could strengthen the friendship while he had the chance.

“Oh! I’m trying to get into baking, too. I made some cookies for you guys since we’ll be working on this for a bit!” Josh said, placing down a platter of cookies on the coffee table, as well as a glass of milk.

“Uh, thanks?” Tim said, sitting down on the sofa. He didn’t think this project would take more than an hour, but if Josh wanted to bake he wasn’t going to stop him.

A few minutes passed by with Tim just watching whatever was playing on TV. He had expected either Austin or Dylan to show up at one point, but neither did. 

“What’s taking them so long?” Tim thought to himself. He had wanted to finish this early so he could get it out of the way, but it was taking longer than he thought it would have. 

The smell of cookies distracted Tim, as they had been sitting out for a while. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but they did smell good. He figured why not, and decided to take a bite out of one of the cookies. They tasted astounding. Despite being out for a good 5 minutes, the chocolate melted in Tim’s mouth. The cookie itself, like the chocolate, also seemed to melt once it hit his tongue. Tim immediately took another bite and quickly finished that cookie before eagerly grabbing another. He remembered the milk and took occasional sips from that as well as he ate the cookies. 

Tim ate like a starved man, grabbing cookie after cookie in each hand, stuffing more and more down his gullet like he was insatiable. It wasn’t long before he finished the entire platter, chugging the rest of the milk down as he did so. He let out a small burp before placing the empty glass back on the table and putting his hand on his stomach. It felt a little more bloated than usual, which made sense to Tim as he had just stuffed himself full of cookies. However, it was a weird feeling of squishy flab, and not a taut, bloated feeling he was expecting. 

As Tim finished the cookies and was a bit taken back by the results, Josh walked in with a plate full of brownies and a gallon of milk.

“It looks like you enjoyed my cookies! I knew a chubster like you would!” Josh giggled, sitting down next to Tim and jiggling his belly.

Tim just laughed with Josh. He wasn’t really chubby, but he did have a slight belly. He just liked to eat a lot, is all! None of his body jiggled like one would expect an overweight person’s to, so Tim didn’t really see it as an immediate issue. It was recent too, so he knew he could work it off in no time. That’s why he walked over to Josh’s instead of getting a ride, but he regretted that when got he got tired and started to sweat after a minute of walking.

Regardless there was a plate with new baked goods on it, and if they were as good as the cookies Tim knew these would be heavenly. Forgetting about his weight problem for a bit, he dug into the brownies with as much gusto as he had with the cookies, continuing to take sips of the milk as he ate. It was creamy, delicious and helped Tim wash down the food he was eating. And was the food ever good! The brownies lived up to Tim’s expectations and then some! They were dripping with gooey chocolate when he bit into them, and they were just as soft and delicious as the cookies. 

Again, as he finished, Tim drank the rest of the milk down. He let out a slightly bigger belch than last time, though it could still barely be called a belch. He set his hand on his stomach again and was confused for a bit when his hand came into contact with his belly much sooner than he had expected. 

“You finished the brownies already? Wow, you must sure be hungry, but I guess it makes sense for a guy as big as you to be that hungry.” Josh said as he walked into the living room with two plates of cookies and brownies.

“What do you mean by that?” Tim asked, letting out a sizeable belch afterwards.

“Oh, you know what I mean. Your belly! It’s getting pretty big at this point, I don’t think you can just lose it in a week like you’re saying.” Josh said, rubbing Tim’s belly as he talked, as if to emphasize his point. “It’s even starting to lift your shirt up a bit! How much do you have to eat for that to happen?” Josh half asked, half joked. Tim laughed, though, realizing Josh’s point.

He was getting pretty chubby, his belly emphasizing that. His clothes were pretty tight with his shirt showcasing how large his belly had grown. Tim’s jeans were also being strained by his legs, not to mention his plumpened rear pushing against the back of the jeans. His moobs were almost visible through his tight shirt, too, though if Tim was standing it wouldn’t have been so obvious. And Josh was right, there was a small part of his belly at the bottom of his shirt that was starting to peak through. Tim didn’t really mind, though. He had always been a bit chubby as far as he could remember.

But now that there were plates of cookies and brownies in front of him again Tim’s mind wasn’t focusing on his weight, but rather the cause behind his weight. He started to stuff his gullet with the treats faster than anyone would expect someone of his size to. Still, if anything would cause him to be this eager, it would be good food. Tim ate so fast he was starting to get messy with his food, wanting to devour the tasty treats in front of him instead of monitor his hygiene. He figured no one would mind anyways, since all of the guys in his group were cool with each other. 

As gooey chocolate covered the edge’s of Tim’s mouth and chocolate chips fell to the floor, Tim was starting to finish up this next batch of treats. He went to sit back and enjoy the sight of an empty plate, but was surprised to see more cookies and brownies left on the dish. In fact, there looked like there were more than when Josh had left the plates originally. His glass of milk was even full again, too. Tim just shrugged off the eerie occurrence, figuring he had just missed Josh put out more to eat and drink while he was busy eating. 

This cycle continued for a bit, with Tim continuing to eat without questioning as to why more food was out for him to eat. However, there came a point where Tim finished all his milk and looked down at the plates to see that nothing was left; Josh hadn’t come to refill them. Tim smiled knowing he could now take a break, leaning back and letting out a big belch. 

“I hope you enjoyed the snacks, big boy.” Josh teased as he jiggled Tim’s belly. Tim, again, just chuckled and knew Josh was right.

Tim’s belly lifted up his shirt completely, and it was even starting to show a bit of his moobs too. They wrapped around his body, creating a roll all on their own as well as starting to push Tim’s arms up a bit. Tim’s pants weren’t fairing well either, being pushed to their limits by his thicker thighs that were as wide as a person at a normal weight’s waist. His two, huge globes that made his butt also strained his pants, taking up one entire couch cushion and starting to creep over into the other 2 cushions. Tim’s face wasn’t spared from his weight either, having a second chin as well as cheeks that made him look like there was always food in his mouth. 

“I might be big, but you don’t have to keep teasing me about it.” Tim joked, rubbing his belly.

“But if I don’t tell you you’re getting fat, who will?” Josh teased again, slapping Tim’s belly causing it to go into a frenzy of a jiggle.

“Besides,” Josh continued, “I think you like all this weight anyways.” Josh sat down next to Tim and started to stroke his flab. “You could’ve just worked off this weight, but instead you keep putting more and more on.” Josh said seductively, almost as a whisper. He continued to stroke Tim’s fat and jiggle it occasionally. “I remember freshman year, when you were just chubby. Now look at you! You’re definitely fat! How long until I get to tease you for being obese? Maybe I already can do that!” Josh teased some more, jiggling Tim’s right moob to emphasize the point.

As Josh continued his work on Tim, Tim started to feel something under his gut. A longing in his groin that he needed to satisfy. He let out a moan as Josh continued to go over his body, realizing just how big he was. Tim tried to reach under his belly to relieve himself, but he couldn’t get past his big belly.

Josh devilishly smiled watching the horny fat boy try to pleasure himself, only to be denied by what turns him on the most. “Don’t worry chubby, I’ll help.” Josh offered, reaching his hand under Tim’s big belly. Not long after that Tim let out a much louder moan, confirming to Josh that he found what he desired. He slowly jerked the fatty off, dooming him to love his fat even more than before. Tim just let out orgasmic moans, submitting to Josh if only for pleasure.

As it turns out, Tim was quite easy to please as he came shortly after Josh started to jerk him off. “Now that you’ve been taken care of, I hope you’re ready for more treats!” Josh cheered as he cleaned his hand off.

“Yes! Please more!” Tim merely shouted, eager to eat more of whatever Josh baked for him.

This time it turned out to be more brownies and cookies, as well as cupcake and donuts too. If Tim wasn’t so eager to dig in, he would’ve noticed these treats were much larger than before, and larger than any version from any place that sells baked goods. The cookies were at least an inch thick with many more chocolate chips, the brownies looked to be double the width of the cookies, the cupcakes were 5 inches tall with the icing being the same if not larger than the actual cupcakes, and the donuts looked as inflated with fat as Tim did, looking less like rings and more like piles of dough with icing on top of them.

Tim didn’t bother with any of those details though, and just decided to eat what was served to him. He continued to eat as he did before, not caring that he made a mess as he did so. Now, however, with more of his body exposed he was able to get more of the mess on himself instead of his surroundings, though chocolate and icing did spread around Tim too. Icing got around Tim’s mouth, chocolate sauce got in between his moobs and his rolls of fat and crumbs accumulated nearly everywhere on him -- even in his bellybutton!

Tears could be heard as the boy continued to gorge, his clothes becoming a thing of the past. Tim also didn’t bother to notice that the treats never dwindled in amount, as he was too busy focusing on which he would eat next to care if he was close to running out. He never was in danger of running out, though, as there seemed to be an endless supply of the treats for him to eat! If Tim knew this, he would’ve been ecstatic about it, but the piggish boy was too busy stuffing himself to gluttony and back to care. 

As Tim continued his pig out, he was started to let out more belches as he ate. It was as if whenever he took a break to take a long sip of milk he would let out a loud, long belch. Of course, the glass of milk was larger than it had originally been, but the size of Tim’s belch couldn’t have simply been caused by drinking more milk. That wasn’t to mention his farts, which started to ramp up the more he ate. He was letting out more and more gas the more treats that got in his tummy, and he seemed to be enjoying it all. His love for fat seemed to be leaking into all these other traits, so the more he ate the more he desired for, well, more!

Sadly for Tim, when he went to grab more treats his chubby palm found nothing but empty ceramic. He had finally eaten all his treats up! And, as if on cue, Josh came in to check on the boy.

“Wow, I didn’t think you would eat all of my baking, but I’m glad you’re enjoying it so much you fatso!” Josh joking, giving a slap to Tim’s gut, causing Tim to let out a humongous belch. He also giggled a bit, but more at his belch than Josh’s joke about his weight. 

“God you’re huge, I mean just look at you!” Josh said, acting astounded.

“Yeah, I know. I’m pretty fucking fat!” Tim stated, almost as if he was proud of the fact. 

And Tim was actually pretty fat. His stomach was so huge that none of his shirts fit completely over it and usually he just didn’t put on a shirt, like he was doing now. He figured his friends wouldn’t care if he was shirtless. Besides, he hadn’t come over to Josh’s house for anything major, right? He had somehow forgotten why he was at Josh’s place. It was probably just to taste test Josh’s food, since Josh knew he loved to eat tons.

Tim’s moobs sat atop his big belly, almost as if they were being shelved there. They were each the size of a grapefruit, with his nipples erect from how big he was. Tim tried to grasp them in his hands, but he couldn’t quite get all of his moob in one hand, just showing how big they were. 

His legs were incredibly thick too, now being as thick as tree trunks at the thinnest part, and being incomparably wide at the wider parts--namely where his thighs and butt met. However, his pants were tough enough to stay on, though there were many rips on the jeans. Tim figured having some pants on was better than having no pants on, even if his rear was almost completely visible because of how much the back of his pants were torn. Speaking of his rear, Tim’s butt cheeks were each the size of an exercise ball and were starting to creep into the adjacent couch cushions. They jiggled like mad whenever he let out gas, and that jiggling only encouraged Tim to be gassier, as the feeling brought great pleasure to him. 

Tim’s face looked like it was inflated, with his cheeks being jiggly sacks that looked like they were filled with lard. His chins, totaling in three, were hanging down from his face, causing it to be difficult to look down towards his belly. Tim didn’t mind, though, as they reminded him of how big he was.

Speaking of Tim’s affection for his fat, Tim’s hardness in his crotch hadn’t gone away since Josh had pleasured him moments earlier. Which was weird, because from what Josh had heard from the big boy while he was eating had suggested he came multiple times while he ate. Either his libido was that strong or Josh misunderstood, but judging by how loud Tim’s moans were when he was eating Josh was assuming the prior.

“Where’s more food? I’m hungry.” Tim asked demandingly as he rubbed his huge belly, letting out a fart as he did so.

Josh laughed, and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.” He walked into the kitchen and brought back a sight that made Tim’s huge body jiggle up and down with excitement. 

On the plate was a towering cake, covered in icing-both vanilla and chocolate-as well as chocolate fudge which oozed from each layer down to the next. Before Josh could even say “Dig in” Tim was already attacking the cake with his bare hands, not really caring that a fork and a knife were on the table in front of him. To him, eating with his bare hands was the fastest way the food would get in his stomach, so he didn’t care that it was also the messiest way to get the food in him.

Chocolate covered Tim’s hands and the edges of his mouth as he feasted on the cake. It had to be almost twice the size of a wedding cake, but Tim acted like it was completely normal. That, or he didn’t care that the cake was huge, just that he was hungry. It was probably the latter, because he got chocolate and icing all over his hands, which got all over his belly when he went to go rub his stomach while eating. 

What Tim also didn’t notice is that the huge cake wasn’t really diminishing in size. Much like his last gorge on the plates of baked goods, the cake still seemed like it had been untouched by Tim. Though, much like with the previous meal, Tim didn’t notice and just ate to his heart’s content. He cared more about getting the food in him than how much of it was left. 

As Tim ate, the sensation under his gut started to be less cyclical, with ups and downs of the feeling, and more of a constant pleasure. He felt like he needed to be constantly pleased, his appetite for food only fueling this desire, ironically enough. 

His gas also became constant, and the boy started to sweat a lot more too. It was most likely from all the weight on his body, but there was no denying it was a bit excessive. Drips of salty exhaustion went in between his fat folds, fell off his arms and swam down his body to his thickened thighs. 

After what seemed like an eternity, but hadn’t actually been more than half an hour, Tim had finished the cake. Just like with the rest of his meals he let out a belch, but this belch was something more than the other ones that had preceded it. This belch shook the entire house, and Tim’s body for a good few seconds with it. 

“Seems like you enjoyed the cake, huh piggy?” Josh teased Tim, slapping his fat which caused some of the sweat to fly off the Tim’s entire body to jiggle vigorously.

“Yeah!” Tim started, his statement interrupted by a fart he laughed at. “I want more! I’m so hungry!” The boy whined, jiggling his body in frustration.

“Don’t worry, you’ll never be underfed while you’re here. But I have a surprise for you, it’s upstairs though, do you think your huge body can make it?” Josh asked, though he was still poking fun at Tim.

Tim was never really known for his movement. He barely left the house unless it was for a good reason. And his size was a testament to that. He had a gut that went down to his knees when he stood up, and when he was sitting it still went to his knees! It jiggled at the slightest movements, and with how gassy Tim was known to be it was almost constantly jiggling. Tim enjoyed the feeling though, as if it was a constant, subtle tickle, so he was pretty gassy a majority of the time.

On top of his belly sat two moobs that outclassed any woman’s breasts you’d ever seen. Tim liked to grope them as he ate, which resulted in them getting even messier than they usually would be. They sank under his arms, due to how big they had gotten, and his nipples were constantly erect with how much Tim loved to eat. Tim’s arms were quite thick, too, being twice the size of a normal person’s waist. Tim didn’t move them much other than to eat, though, and he was starting to get thoughts of asking people to feed him since he didn’t want to use all the work to move his arms to eat. 

If his arms were thick, then his legs were enormous. They were spread halfway onto the other couch cushions, making it difficult for anyone else to sit on the couch besides Tim. Tim’s legs almost held all of his belly when he sat, but a bit of the edge sank off. Even still, they could hold a dozen kids and still have a bit of room left over. The didn’t look suitable to moving, but Tim wasn’t doing much of that normally anyways. He had gotten a ride over to Josh’s house, after all. 

Tim’s face was also filled with fat. His cheeks were starting to mess with his eyesight, and he had 3 rings of chins going around his face when he sat down. He didn’t seem to mind, even if it caused him to be even messier as a result.

“You’ll need to help me...up there.” Tim panted out, trying to get up on his own. 

Josh went over to Tim and helped the blobby boy up, with Tim letting out a fart as he got up. He laughed a bit and then placed his arm around Josh’s neck so he could be supported. Then, slowly but surely, the two started to walk upstairs. Well, Tim waddled, but that was besides the point. Tim was already drenched in sweat by the time he was at the stairs, and he was sounding like he was out of breath too.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there. And it’ll be worth it too!” Josh encouraged, which helped Tim lift his his huge up each stair. He was struggling a bunch, but the promise of something great encouraged the greedy glutton further.

Once Tim was upstairs, Josh led him to a bedroom and opened the door. What he saw at first shocked him

“Tim!” A hugely fat blob cheered out, jiggling a ton as a result. He looked to be around the same size as Tim and munching on some donuts while watching some mindless show on the flat screen TV to the right of the king sized bed he was on.

“Aren’t you glad to see Austin, Tim?” Josh asked, though he had a sinister tone behind his question.

Tim’s brain was wracked with questions. How did Austin get here? Was he always so big? What was even happening today and why was his memory so fuzzy?

Josh noticed Tim’s confusion and decided to clear it all up.

“Doesn’t he look so sexy?” Josh asked, but it was more of a suggestion than anything.

Tim, who was once wrought with worry, now looked like he was going to drool over his best friend. “Yeah...he’s so big and hot.” Tim mumbled out. 

Josh had to stop himself from laughing and helped move Tim onto the bed. Again, it was a struggle, but Tim managed to fall onto the bed. Josh then shoved Austin onto his stomach, who continued eating his donuts in front of him. By some instinct, Tim knew what he wanted to do and started to maneuver his way towards his knocked-over friend. After a few seconds, Tim had inserted himself into Austin, who gasped at the sudden feeling. He kept eating, though, while Tim started to fuck him.

As Tim continued to have sex with his best friend, memories started to flood back to him for seemingly no reason. He remembered that he actually lived here, because no one could handle Tim and Austin’s appetites besides Josh, and that their families had kicked them out because they ate so much. And Tim realized Austin was actually his boyfriend, who he loved dearly. Him being huge was an added bonus, with Tim realizing how much he loved fat while memories came back to him. He loved being huge, just being able to eat, and having no responsibilities. Tim thought he was forgetting something, however. Like a responsibility he had to complete for some reason. As he came into Austin, however, he quickly forgot about it. He never had any responsibilities. Just eat, grow and have sex with his beautiful boyfriend Austin. He sat back, the bed drenched in sweat now, let out a huge belch and decided to eat and watch whatever was on TV with Austin.

Downstairs, there was a knock at the door. 

“Ah, Dylan! Tim and Austin said they’d be here soon. Would you like to try out my baking in the meantime, though?” Josh asked.

[freakynct]

warnings: 90s au, kinda toxic relationship, public sex, unprotected sex and hair pulling

the blazing summer heat of 95' had just arrived and not even your shorts and crop top could save you from melting under it. you had heard on the radio how this was the hottest summer since the decade had started and even if you loved the sun and being able to go to the public pool with your friends, there was so much you could take. the big fan beside your tv was on full blast, swaying away your hair and cooling you down as you struggled with your vcr. you cursed loudly at it as you pressed the buttons but nothing was working and the show had already started.

"need help with that?" you turned around to be met with your older sister's new fling, jaehyun. he had spent almost everyday at your house since your parents left to go visit your grandma a week ago and even if that's a thing a boyfriend would do, your sister still insisted that they were just having sex. in your opinion jaehyun was just way too shameless. walking around the kitchen in the morning in his underwear while you were forced to look at his toned body while you shoved rice krispies inside your mouth, constantly giving you flirty looks, brushing over your thigh when you were sitting down on the couch and your sister was too distracted crying over forrest gump for the fifth time and of course, now that you were forced to wear the least amount of clothing possible he couldn't take his eyes off you, more specifically your legs.

"i just can't get the stupid vcr to start recording friends and the episode already started." you responded annoyed and still slamming at the buttons in hopes that it would magically start working.

"let me see." jaehyun came closer, sitting down on the floor next to you, so close that your thighs were touching and you could feel the little hairs on his leg brushing against your skin. you didn't know why you started to fill tingles inside your stomach from it but you decided it was best to just ignore it. he took the cassette out of the vcr and checked if there was any problems with it first before blowing inside of the vcr and returning to put the vhs inside. he pressed one button and there it was, working like nothing ever happened and you got internely mad at how easy it was for him. in your head you were pretty sure that the vcr had some kind of personal problem with you.

"there you go, i guess it was just a little bit dirty." he smiled down at you and you wouldn't be rude to the point of not reciprocating, giving him a small smile back and a little "thank you". you kept sitting on the floor in front of the small square tv because it was the only place in the living room that the wind from the fan could reach and you rested your back on the coffee table behind you, laughing at some joke that was said on the sitcom. only after a few seconds you noticed that jaehyun was also still sitting on the floor in front of you, his eyes glued to you and your body squirmed from the intense gaze that he had on. 

but now that you were a little bit more distant from him, you were able to observe the white shorts he adorned, with a leopard print belt around his waist and a red tank top that showed off his perfectly toned and strong arms and legs. you could tell he had used some gel on his hair but it was still a bit messy, with a few strands falling over his forehead and this look was almost just as good as when he wore nothing but his boxers. 

"like what you see?" his voice interrupted your thoughts and you realized that you had been staring at him for longer than you intended. you shook your head and moved your body up a little, getting more comfortable in your seat, looking back at the glitchy tv.

"i could ask you the same thing." you talked back at him and heard him chuckle and suddenly he was moving closer to you again, your eyes slightly widening as he sat next to you, moving an arm to rest on top of the coffee table and around your back.

"in my case i do like what i see." he was so close to you that you were able to feel his breathing against your face and you looked at him from the corner of your eye.

"where's my sister?" you asked out of nervousness and you felt his body relax next to you, running his fingers through his hair and sighing deeply, changing his whole demeanor and acting as if he wasn't just flirting with you.

"she's listening to mariah carey in her room and i'm not into that kind of music so..." he shrugged his shoulders and moved his eyes from the tv to you, once again. "and you're a much better company anyway." you couldn't help but look at him as he said those words, a puzzled expression on your face.

"me?" you raised an eyebrow still confused as to why he was saying those things, i mean, at the end of the day it was your sister he was having sex with.

"yeah. you act hella moody around me but i know you like me." he smirked as his thumb caressed your chin and your reflex was to swerve away from his touch.

"as if!" you shot him a disgusted look and he laughed, leaning closer to you and starting to run his fingers up your bare thigh, causing your body to shiver and tense up.

"c'mon, stop lying. you know you want it just as much as i do." his voice was so calm and sweet, an obvious contrast to how hard and loud your heart was beating in your chest. "or are you gonna tell me you don't feel anything when i'm standing this close to you? hm?" your eyes slowly looked up at him, a little sparkle being evident on them, and you noticed how close his face was to yours at this point. you also realized how beautiful his eyes were and you felt like you were starting to drown in them, so much that you didn't even notice his lips approaching yours until jaehyun was brushing them against yours, so soft and sweet before capturing you in a deep kiss, suddenly releasing all of the tension in your body at once. he sighed deeply against your mouth from how long he had been waiting to do this and his hand settled on your hip, pulling you closer to him until you were sitting on top of him, legs straddling his lap. 

jaehyun was kissing you so intensely that you had to break it to gasp for air and he took the opportunity to attack your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses all over the surface of your skin while your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. "w-what about my sister?" you suddenly felt a sense of guilt inside you and you knew that in a way this was wrong and she could walk in at any moment.

"she's not my girlfriend." he left one last kiss on your neck before bringing his head up to look at you. "and she has her headphones on, she won't hear anything over mariah's high notes." you felt the urge to chuckle but jaehyun didn't even give you time for that, immediately pressing his lips against yours, his tongue asking for passage and you granted it to him, moving your tongue against his. his hands were quick to remove your top and throwing it somewhere on the floor, your bra following the same path soon after. he caressed your breasts and you sighed against his mouth, your hips starting to move and grind down on his lap which consequently made a small groan escape between his lips as he tightened his grip on your hips. 

after a while of kissing and of feeling your lips getting numb and swollen, jaehyun finally broke the kiss, tugging at the waistband of your shorts. "take this off for me, baby." you wanted time to process what he had just called you but your body was telling you to hurry up so you got up and slided your shorts down as jaehyun observed from under you, taking off his tank top as well, showing off his toned abs that you had seen before but was still impressed by.

you sat back down, with your thin white panties still on, and your fingers worked on unbuckling his belt while his hands grabbed at your face, pulling you in for another deep and sloppy kiss. his hand reached inside his shorts and took his cock out, slowly stroking himself as he moved your panties to the side and lined the tip with your entrance. you gripped his shoulders tightly, looking over him to check if the coast was still clear and your sister wasn't creeping down the stairs to find you fucking her fling.  but your thoughts were brushed away as soon as jaehyun started sliding inside you, your eyes fluttering shut and letting out a small whine at the feeling of his cock stretching you out and you remembered you had only been with one other guy before so maybe you should have given jaehyun a heads up not to push so quickly inside you but there was no time for that as he was already completely in you and you heard him groan against the skin of your neck.

"you're so fucking tight." he gasped as you slowly started moving on top of him with the help of his hands that guided your hips in a perfect rythm. one of his hands came up to tug at your hair, pulling your head slightly back so he could devour your neck while you softly moaned his name. you knew it had to be quick, you thought you might just die if your sister walked in on you two and maybe you should've choosen a better place to have sex than on the living room floor but you were both young and the hormones couldn't wait. the heat of your bodies mixing up with the heat of the summer day was uncomfortable but being close to him wasn't and you decided to ignore the amount of sweat and stickiness that was starting to form on your bodies.

you slowly felt the feeling in your stomach intensifying and you could feel his cock twitching inside you, which just made you press your body even closer to his. you felt him start thrusting up into you to help you out as your legs started to get worned out and it didn't take long until your nails were digging into the back of his shoulders as your orgasm washed all over you causing your body to jerk forward and shake against him, trying your best to hold your loud moans inside you, only letting escape small little whimpers. 

you felt the grip that jaehyun had on your hair tighten and even though it hurt a little, it felt better when he shot his warm liquid inside you and it was such an incredibly attractive sight to see him throw his head back and softly moan while his orgasm hit him. but because you weren't exactly the luckiest person in the world you started to hear commotion upstairs and you quickly got off jaehyun's lap, not having time to clean up before you had to put your shorts and top on again as jaehyun did the same thing and it was just in time as your sister walked down the stairs and towards you and you could swear your heart almost jumped out of your mouth.

"why were you taking so long?" she stood next to jaehyun and he looked up at her smiling, getting up and wrapping his arm around her waist.

"we were watching friends." he came up with an excuse as you looked at the tv and remembered why you were there in the first place. 

"well c'mon. you're not here to babysit my sister and i wanna show you some new tapes i got." she quickly grabbed his hand and started pulling him away before jaehyun turned his head around and gave you one last smirk, walking off to your sister's bedroom.

you sighed in relief as she hadn't noticed anything weird going on but you knew the next few days would be a challenge, having to walk around each other like nothing ever happened and even if you told yourself that it couldn't happen again, you knew that it would.

[forever-rogue]

Javier Prompt, if you're willing!! Javier comes home late from work to find the apartment empty, and begins to panic because his pregnant significant other isn't there. He's been nervous the last few months, and it's only gotten worse. When the phone rings and she's on the other end asking for him to come pick her up, he just imagines the worst possibilities.

I’m just...so...soft at the thought of dad to be Javi. Like...just imagine it... 🥺

I also realized that I read this prompt a little wrong and changed it slightly, but I hope you still like it!

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was the heart of summer, the warmest time of the year, and Colombia was in the middle of a heat wave. It was a stifling heat, the kind that was pervasive and deep to penetrate deep into your bones no matter how hard you tried to find relief. Warm mornings turned to even warmer afternoons which led to balmy evenings. Normally, you’d be able to handle it fairly well, as the heat generally didn’t bother you that much. But the not so little fact that you were almost eight months pregnant during all of this did not help. It only served to make you more miserable and it was almost impossible to find any sort of relief.

Javier, your boyfriend and the most Nervous Nellie of a father to be, was attentive to your needs, finding all sorts of ways to ease your discomforts and make you feel better. You were pretty sure that he’d read more pregnancy books than you had, and there was a small growing library of them in the living room bookcase. As soon as you told him you were pregnant, something you had been reluctant to do since you had no clue how he would respond to this surprise, he had shifted into dad mood. Sometimes you were sure he was more excited than you were - the way his eyes had lit up when you had first announced the news and shown him the positive pregnancy test was forever burned into your mind. It was a treasured moment that you never wanted to let go of.

All the knowledge he gathered and all the little tips and tricks learned along the way had been helpful more times than not. But unfortunately, nothing could help you in this heat - no amount of cold showers and drinks and fans seemed to help. You could barely sleep at night, finding it hard to sleep any position with your large belly, and Javi’s warm body to you. He seemed to run warm as it was and it certainly wasn’t helping now..

The one little bit of relief you did find, however, came in the form of the frozen yogurt that Javier had found by chance at the supermarket, thinking you might like it. And you had; you’d almost devoured the whole container in one sitting, and it seemed to cool you ever so slightly. One late night, when you really couldn’t sleep, you’d gotten a hankering for the sweet dessert, and but also something sour. Imagine Javi’s surprise when he woke up to go to the bathroom and found you sitting on the couch watching late night television and eating pickles dipped in the frozen yogurt.

“Oh honey,” his voice was tired and thick with sleep as tried his best not to laugh at the sight. You looked up at him, with a small, sheepish smile on your face as you took another bite of the crunchy pickle. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your before plopping down on the couch next to you, “pickles and ice cream?”

“Froyo,” you corrected him, waving the pickle in front of his face and offering him a bite. He shook his head before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and watching as you dipped the pickle back in and coated it in the frozen yogurt before eating it, “you should go back to bed, Javi. You’ve been exhausted, my love.”

“I couldn’t sleep...again,” he admitted with a small sigh, “and then I found you gone, and then I saw the light on. Why...why on earth are you eating that?”

“Your kid was hungry,” you shrugged lightly, looking pointedly between him and your large stomach, “and I was hot, so I figured this could solve both of my problems.”

“Hey, that is half your kid as well,” he snorted with laughter as put his hand on your belly, rubbing it gently. The baby always seemed to know when it was Javier touching your stomach, moving softly and kicked at the feel of his touch and sound of his voice, “they’re moving.”

It always seemed to amaze him, each time the same as it had the first time, his face lighting up with joy and sheer love. You tried not to get emotional, but with your raging hormones, it was hard to keep anything in check, and you felt that familiar prickling start at the back of your eyes. Putting a hand on top of his, you turned to give him a smile, a tear inadvertently slipping down your cheek. Javi gently reached over and softly wiped it away before giving you a sweet kiss, ���honey, don’t cry, it’s alright.”

“I know,” you said softly, feeling the water works preparing to well up, “it’s just...I love you so much, and I’m so excited and happy, but right now being pregnant sucks and I want it to be over and I don’t at the same time because I’m so nervous to meet the baby, our baby, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I know you’ll be the best father, but I worry that I won’t be a good mother. I mean, look at me, I’m sitting here and eating frozen yogurt and pickles and crying.”

“Honey,” Javi put his hand on your cheek and leaned in closer to you, his lips brushing faintly against yours, “you’re alright, you’re going to be just fine. It’s just your hormones - I promise. You’re going to be an amazing mother - the best mother. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be in your position right now, or how it feel at all, but you are incredible for everything you’re doing. I mean, think about it, you’re carrying our child right now. Do you have any idea what a feat that is, how amazing you are?”

“You’re just saying that because I’m pathetic and pregnant,” you sniffled lightly, but he cut you off with a firm kiss, his hand going to the back of your heading, holding you close. It warmed you up completely, in a different way this time, one that was not unpleasant and overbearing, but comforting, “Javi...”

“I know,” he whispered quietly, “I love too.”

“Really?” you asked, your voice but a mere, soft whimper. He nodded softly, nuzzling his nose against yours. Of course you knew he loved you; it was just all of these crazy hormones making you question everything.

“Really, mi amor,” he promised, “you, and our child, even if you’re resorting to silly things such as eating ice cream and pickles.”

“Froyo,” you laughed lightly, feeling a wash of reassurance flood over you. It was hard, especially this far along to remain positive, but it was always easier when you had Javi. He was your rock, your anchor, and helped you keep a level head through all of this, just like you often did with him. The two of you made a good pair, and you hoped that would translate into good parenting.

“Froyo and all,” he corrected, “I love every part of you. Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

On this particular evening, you were at home by yourself, boredom and warmth setting in as you couldn't find anything to hold your interest. You'd made dinner and saved some for Javi, who was working late. He'd told you when he left in the morning that it would he a long day, but a part of you had wished that something would happen and allow him to come home sooner.

But it was nearing ten in the evening and you weren't sure when he'd be back. He was on a stakeout with Steve, meaning it was anyone's guess. Feeling listless, you decided to go for a short walk. It would at least give you some exercise and maybe help to cool you down, should you find some sort of breeze.

You scribbled a note on the pad next to the phone, in the off chance that Javi would return before you came back. Perching the note up so it was easily visible, you walked, or waddled over rather, to your purse and grabbed a few dollars and your key before heading out.

It probably wasn't the best idea to go out, at night, alone, in the midst of everything going on in Colombia, but you really just needed to get out at this point. Surely Javi could understand that, right? But....perhaps he wouldn't.

He'd been such a mother hen lately, ensuring that everything was perfect and attending to your every need. While you didn't mind, not for the most part anyway, sometimes it was a little overwhelming. Being pregnant was enough of a chore, but having someone constantly underfoot wasn't any better. You loved him and he meant well, but sometimes you just needed a break.

Stepping out into the slightly cooler evening air, you let out a sigh of relief as you started your little trek around the block. Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck you; the supermarket where Javi had found your treasured frozen yogurt was close by. Making up your mind, you decided you'd pick up a carton of the stuff and a new jar of pickles.

»»————-　♡　————-««

When Javier arrived home, he was tired, exhausted even, and couldn't wait to get in bed and have you in his arms. It was late, later than he would have liked but his long day was finally over. He'd even come to the decision that he would be working fewer hours and staying out of the field when possible. It was going to a be a big change, but his main priority was you and your baby and he wanted to be around should anything happen. He had a feeling that you'd try and argue with him, but his mind was made up.

"Hermosa," he let out a long sigh as he tried to unlock the door, but stopped, eyebrows knitting together in confusion when he realized the door was already unlocked. Strange. Neither of you ever kept it unlocked, and you definitely knew better.

A tingle of nerves started at the base of his spine as he opened the door and walked inside slowly, unsure of what to expect. The television was on and the window was open, all signs pointing to the fact that you would be home.

"Honey?" his voice faltered slightly as he walked down the hallway and poked his head his head in the bedrooms and bathrooms, trying to see if he could find you. But you were nowhere to be found.

His heart started to race slightly as he reached for the gun in the waistband of his jeans and pulled it out, holding it at the ready. His mind immediately went into overdrive as a million horrid, dark thoughts appeared. Every single bad thought he possessed within the far recesses of mind were suddenly right up front.

What if someone had come and taken you? If someone had broken in? What if something had happened with you and the baby? What if, what if, what if?

There appeared to he no signs of a struggle, but he knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving. Your purse was still here and the smell of cooking lingered in the kitchen.

"Fuck," he said softly to himself, running a hand over his face in exasperation as he came to the conclusion that something had to have happened, "Fuck!"

He grabbed the phone, throwing the notepad face down onto the floor in his haste and quickly dialed Steve's number. Anxiously waiting for him to answer, he almost shouted in the receiver, "she's gone! I just got back but she's not here!"

It took Steve only a beat to figure out Javi was in distress about you and he tried to calm him down. Surely there must be there another explanation, "hey, hey, hey, I'm sure it's alright-"

"The door was unlocked, her things are here, TV on. It looks like someone got in here and just took her," it was hard to remain calm when not only could you possibly be at risk, but also the baby, "fuck! Has she talked to Connie at all? Does she know anything?"

He heard Steve mumbling something to Connie, asking her if you had mentioned anything to her or spoken to her. He let out a heavy sigh before returning to Javi, "Con hasn't heard anything. Javi, just relax, I'm sure there's a reasonable-"

"She's missing, Steve! She's almost eight months pregnant and you expect me to calm down!?" he didn't mean to sound as harsh as he did, but he was extremely stressed. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been this worried.

"Make whatever calls you need to and I'll be there to help," Steve hung up the phone as Javi nodded, trying to focus as he tried to make a game plan for how to find you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

After some time you'd finally managed to find your favorite flavor of frozen yogurt and a big jar of pickles, you made your way home, ready to dig in and wait for Javi.

The evening had cooled down further and you strolled back at a leisurely pace, not that you had much of a choice this far in, taking your time to get back. When you got into the complex and made your way to your shared apartment, you thought you heard some voices, and grew excited to think that Javi might be back.

Unlocking the door slowly you stepped in, mouth dropping at sight in front of you. Javi, Steve, and Connie were all around the kitchen table, pouring over what looked like a map, the phone next to them.

"Hey everyone," they were so immersed in their little discussion none of them had noticed you at first, "what's going on?"

Javi's dark eyes flicked up to meet yours momentarily before looking back down at the map. It took him a good few moments before he finally realized it was you, "honey! You're here...you're back! Where the hell have you been?"

"Yeah, of course I'm back..." you walked over to the table and set your bag down, "I live here? I went for a walk and stopped at the market for frozen yogurt and pickles."

"Why!?"

"Your kid was hungry as normal?" you said as if it was no big deal, "and I wanted to get out for a little bit."

"The door was unlocked," he come over to you and put his hands on your face, a clearly distressed look on his face, "the lights and the television were on and I could smell dinner, and you weren't home. I was so worried."

"I just left everything on because I was just going on for a little bit. And in case you came home before me, I didn't want everything all dark," your heart sank a little when you saw how upset he is, "I'm sorry, Javi, I honestly thought I'd be back before you."

"I was so worried! I thought someone had come and taken you or something had happened to baby!" he threw up his hands in exasperation. You knew he wasn't mad at you, he was just in general panic mode over anything related to you right now, "what was I supposed to think?"

"Javi, I left you a note where you would see it," you let out a small sigh as you spied the notepad on the floor, your note still face down. Making your over to it, you tried to pick it up, but quickly came to the conclusion that it was going to be a herculean feat. Connie quickly came to your rescue and swooped it up and studied it before handing it to you, "how did this get on the floor? I left it up so you would easily see it."

Javi came over and took it from your hand, quickly reading it over. He hung his head when he realized he must have knocked it over, "fuck. I must have done that and not noticed."

"If you'd been in the office I would have called you, my love," you put a hand on shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, "but I didn't know if you'd be there...so I just left the note."

He let out a soft groan before taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, "I'm sorry, honey. I just...the door was unlocked and I worry. Especially with everything going on right now and you're so close. I...might have overreacted a little bit..."

"You think?" you teased him, wrapping your arms his neck, holding him as close as possible, with the exception of your stomach, "trust me, if someone was breaking in, I would put up a fight and someone would have heard my screaming. If anything was wrong with the baby, I would have gone to Connie."

"But honey-"

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't I can't put a fight. Anyone tries to come for you or our baby, they're going to catch sight of these hands," you insisted, causing him, Steve, and Connie to break into laughter, "what?! What's so funny?"

"Hermosa," Javi met your eyes for a moment, putting his hand on your face as he gave you a soft smile, "baby, you're 34 weeks pregnant, you cry when you can't pick things up off the floor. You cried at a commercial last night. I don't think you're going to kick anyone's ass."

"Try me, Javier Peña, try me," you put your hands, and tried your best to give him a mean look, "I've got that crazy pregnancy strength!"

"I love you," Javi just laughed before giving a soft kiss, "so much. I’m so glad you’re okay."

"I love you too," you grinned at him, "sorry for worrying you. The one time you come early! If I had any clue I would have just waited. Sorry Steve, sorry Con. You got dragged into all of this because of me. I should have just told Connie and made her come with me."

"It's dangerous to go out alone," Javi reminded you and just pouted your lips at him.

"I just needed to go out and damn kid just wanted a damn snack," you laughed lightly at yourself, "now half the city is probably out looking for me."

"Try half the country," Steve corrected as you just looked at Javi and he sheepishly shrugged at you. He gave Connie a look and the two of them shared a nod, deciding it was time for them to go, "glad you're okay and it was just a misunderstanding. I think this should serve as a lesson to keep calm, right Javi?"

"Fuck off, Murph," Javi flipped him the bird but gave him a thankful smile nonetheless. You gave them a wave before crossing your arms over your chest and shaking your head at him, "I was worried, alright? Every single thought bad of what could have happened to you went through my mind. I would never forgive myself something happened to you, either of you, because of me."

"I know," you put your hand on his cheek and rubbing your thumb gently over his cheekbone, "nothing will ever happen to me or this bean. At least not because of you, probably because I tried over my own feet, which I haven't seen in months, thank you very much."

"You don't know that-"

"Javi, I do," you insisted firmly, "you take such good care of us all the time. You do everything. I know nothing will go wrong, we're safe and sound, here with you.”

“I cannot believe I was this worried about my wife going out and getting ice cream and pickles,” he let out a long sigh of relief as he watched you with a small smile. He took your hand and laced your fingers together, “you are...something else.”

“Firstly - froyo,” you reminded him with a laugh, “and secondly - not your wife.”

“Not yet,” he beamed at you with a little wink. He had plans for that, big plans, but he wasn’t about to tell you that yet.

“Oh yeah, is that so?” you played it cool but internally you were bubbling up with excitement.

“Yeah,” he promised, giving you a nod, “but that’s a discussion for another time. Now why don’t get your...dessert? Snack? Whatever you call and we can go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

“That’s what you get for panicking,” you traced you a finger down his nose before kissing it gently. He held you there for a moment, resting his forehead against yours, “I love you, Javi. Really.”

“I love you too, honey,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “even if you do stress me out.”

“Out of love.”

“Aye, dios mio,” he made quick work of scooping you up in his arms, making it effortless and like you totally weren’t heavily pregnant, “you’ve lost all privileges now. Time for bed.”

“Okay, but when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound like a punishment, it just sounds sexy,” you giggled as he started carrying you towards the bedroom, “and that’s how I got pregnant in the first place!”

“Honey...”

“And don’t forget my froyo and pickles!”

[jordanrosenburg]

Big Mouth Season 3 - Very Much Still Important

Review of Season 2 and 1 , major spoilers ahead

Alright, I finished watching season 3 the other day, and I have to say bravo to the writers, because they always manage to leave us wanting more. What truly awaits these pre-teens this summer? I’m happy that they’re done with seventh grade, but will the next season be about summer vacation, or will we get to see them go right into eighth grade? There’s been news of a spin off about the world the hormone monsters live in, will that be what holds us over until season 4?

Right from the first episode, I knew it was going to be a good season. The show continues to have a good balance between what is happening to both girls and boys at this age. I remember being in the seventh grade, and second guessing every single fashion choice I made. I didn’t really have a figure until ninth grade, but there were other girls that were already blossoming, and I felt self-conscious. Was I pretty enough? Am I frumpy? Is my hair too frizzy?

This season did another great job of showing not only what boys are going through at this age, but also the girls. Because the boys can’t control themselves, and because no one tells them to, the girls are forced into an absurd dress code by this scum bag:

I think we have all had a Mr. Lizer in our lives at some point. The guy who comes off as nice and caring is really just misogynistic and creepy. He mutters under his breath about he hates the girls, especially Jessi. Not to mention that he made Lola think the foot rub was all on her. At 13 of course she would think, how would she know any better? What he did was disgusting and wrong, and I’m glad he got fired. 

I’m proud of the girls for taking their bodies back. It was brave of them to take a stand and show that the dress code was stupid. They may not have done it in the best way, but they still proved a point. 

Nick and Andrew are a topic I’d like to discuss. We’ve know since season 1 that these boys have been best friends for a long time. We also know that they’ve been growing apart since season 1. Andrew was the first to go through the hormonal change, and Nick was left to catch up. In season 2 Nick went through three different hormone monsters while trying to figure things out with a girl he liked. Andrew stayed hung up on Missy, and somehow got involved with Lola, which just messed up everything else for him. He slowly started to realize that he was becoming a lot like his father. This season Nick got obsessed with his phone, and even though Andrew made many attempts to talk and hang out, he realized that Nick really is just a douchebag. They had their seasonal fight, and instead of becoming friends again, Andrew expressed how he really felt. Nick stopped being there for him. I don’t think Andrew is in the right, but he did recognize that their friendship had become toxic, and enough was enough. 

The only time Nick was there for Andrew this season was when Andrew started to lust after his cousin. I’ll say it - that shit was messed up. I was grossed out that they went there, but this could be some real shit that boys go through, idk. And Nick kind of encouraged it and didn’t at the same time. The whole thing was weird. 

Nick was wrestling with the fact that Jay was basically living in his house. That’s a major change to go through. He also betrayed Andrew by kissing Missy, and then lying about it. Andrew doesn’t own Missy, and she can do whatever she wants, but neither one of them thought about how the kiss would hurt the people around them. And then when Nick realized he didn’t like her like, he just cast her aside. 

Missy went through a lot this season too. She finally got a hormone monstress.

Side note, did anyone else feel sad that Connie didn’t say bubble bath once this season? No one else? Okay, moving on. This new monstress pushes Missy out of her comfort zone. Missy is able to keep some of her boundaries, but something about acting in that play opened something up for her. I loved when her and Jay wrote the fan fiction together. I can’t remember when I first started reading fic, may have been in seventh or eighth grade, and I always thought it was weird thing for me to like. Then I had mentioned it to a friend in ninth grade, and she’s still my best friend ten years later! I was happy to see that Jay didn’t make Missy feel weird or ashamed. I wished we could’ve seen more of this new friendship. AND Missy was the one to get the uniforms disbanded by wearing her same old clothes. I hope she’s able to find a balance with her newfound self. 

And poor Jay, he is one of the funniest characters on this show. You never know what he’s going to say, but it’s usually obscene. I lost it when he said something like, “my balls are going to shit”. 

We get another close look at Jay’s home life. His family leaves him at home for spring break, and he tries to not let it bother him. He embraces Nick’s family, and becomes a better person by living with them. They discover that he has ADHD and just needed aderol. Unfortunately, Jay sells his medication to his friends, which makes him go back to the way he was. TAKE YOUR MEDS MY FRIENDS! Jay eventually goes back home, and shows what he can add to his family, and they finally accept him. Jay too also comes to terms with his sexuality, and discloses to everyone that he’s bisexual, and he’s okay with it. But no one takes him seriously. He has a heart to heart with the new girl Ali, who told everyone she was pansexual. I know Andrew Goldberg has apologized with how he went about this, but I’m just gonna say that Ali came on a little too strong. All sexualities and gender are valid, periodt. 

Jay also called out his friends for fetishizing the fact that it’s “hot” that Ali likes everyone, but it’s not as cool when he comes out as bisexual. He felt hurt and unvalidated. We see you Jay! 

Now it’s time for our girl Jessi. 

This girl CANNOT catch a fucking break. I was happy to see her figure her body out. That can be straight up awkward, and it can make you want to give up. I love how they showed it with a water rapid, good use of metaphor. And she has been such a good friend to Matthew, covering for him with Adrian. But who is there for Jessi? At one point it was her, Andrew, and Nick, and one of them said, “At least we have each other. Virgins til college”. At that age I can see how that might be a bad thing, but I know a lot of people who were virgins in college. They didn’t graduate that way, but they came in that way. That was the most I saw of the three of them really interact this season. It’s crazy that these last three seasons are all things that happened over the course of a school year. 

I need space to say, I am fucking done with Jessi’s mom. Jessi has been more than gracious with letting her mom become who she is. Shannon should be able to explore, and it’s okay that she got divorced, but she has not gone about anything in a good way, and now she’s just starting to be selfish. When Jessi hears her mother orgasm, is it hilarious for us as the audience, of course, but as a 13 year old girl, I would be so mad and mortified. Not only does Jessi have to deal with Shannon and Cantor Dina breaking up, but her dad has begun to see someone new, and now her mom wants to fucking move?! I would have been so pissed off. Again, Shannon should be able to live her life, but she has a young daughter. Couldn’t she wait to go to the city until Jessi is at least in high school? College? Why not let Greg move back in to live in the house with Jessi? 

Jessi comes to terms with it at the end of the season, and I think that’s really big of her. I’ll be sad if she ends up getting uprooted. That damn depression kitty needs to leave her alone too. Not one of her friends bothered to check on her about it either, and Nick and Andrew knew she was depressed! That shit doesn’t just go away. 

THE FAB FIVE

I was living, henny! I didn’t know which episode they would be in, but this was just amazing. I am so glad they all made voice cameos for this. JVN stole the show of course, and it was so funny to hear they all swear. When Bobby went off about how little the other guys do while he did a whole “fucking” room renovation??? HE WAS RIGHT AND HE SAID IT! And the bird noises Antoni made??? Incredible. Would have loved to see him shrieking into the microphone. I do think the funniest line was when JVN said, “the dumb ones pound the hardest, henny”. I fucking died. They really lightened the mood, and what a great redemption for coach Steve! I am so glad he got his job back. 

There are many other things to get into with this season, but what I’d like to end on is that the kids really grew up. People don’t stay friends forever. I had friends in middle school that I did not stay friends with in high school. Even high school I didn’t keep the same friends. Obviously we want to see these kids make things work, but I still think it was very grown up of Andrew to tell Nick he forgave him but didn’t want to be friends anymore. I think when we’re kids we stay friends with people, or keep ourselves in certain situations because we want to be around cool people. I’m very curious to see where this show takes us in season 4. They all went through a lot, and 7th grade really is the most awkward year of them all. So who knows, maybe 8th grade will be better. They’ll have had a whole year of new hormones under their belts. What do y’all think is in store for our friends next? 

[king-finnigan]

(I’m So) Human - Chapter 2

You can also read this on AO3! M A S T E R L I S T

A/n: So, this was supposed to be a oneshot, but there are so many dodie songs that are perfect for Geralt and Jaskier, so this turned into a six-chapter fic. I regret nothing. This chapter is based on Ready Now by dodie. As always, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy, and don’t hesitate to leave a like and a comment if you feel like it!

The first time he sees the blue-eyed Bard, Geralt is sitting in the corner of some tavern in Posada. He sips his ale as the man – barely more than a teen – gets pelted with food. Typical humans, cruel beyond reason. He wasn’t even half bad.

Still, he doesn’t really appreciate it when the Bard actually walks up to him, trying to strike a conversation with the Witcher. He smells of curiosity and excitement – a combination Geralt has rarely even scented around him. People always smell like fear or anger, more often than not both. Except for this man.

“Love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.” Geralt has to admit, the Bard has some guts. Still, it’s best if they don’t strike up a conversation. The Witcher has nothing good to offer, anyway.

He doesn’t look up, hoping it will discourage the Bard. “I’m here to drink alone.” Good. Precise, decisive, a sure way to finish this before it even starts.

He was wrong.

“No one else has hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance.” If people pelting you with food counts as a comment. “Except for you.” The man moves into his line of sight, and Geralt rolls his eyes. He’s not in the mood for small-talk or having to tell the Bard to fuck off, but he will do the latter if the man doesn’t leave soon.

The Bard is hard to ignore, though. A movement of his hand to accentuate the words that flow out of his mouth like a waterfall. A hasty smile, a flash of white teeth. Sitting down in front of the Witcher, uninvited. Everything about him is distracting and demands Geralt’s attention over and over again.

He bites the inside of his cheek, as the Bard finally realizes he is, in fact, sitting in front of a Witcher. Geralt awaits the reaction he’s come to anticipate over the years – fear in the Bard’s flowery scent, impossibly blue eyes looking away, rambling as he makes a hasty retreat.

Yet, that doesn’t happen. That’s strange. Confusing.

Instead, the Bard shuffles in his seat a bit, eyes lighting up as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Oh, fun.”

Geralt frowns. You definitely did not expect that, did you, Geralt? It all becomes a bit too much, as he suddenly has no idea what to do anymore. He stands up, grabbing his swords, and making his way out the door, leaving the Bard behind him before he can corrupt the innocence and light that seems to emanate from the man. Or so he hopes.

You saw through me all this time.

 The Bard follows him out of Posada, for some reason. Geralt can hear him jogging up the dusty path, trying to catch up with the Witcher. He does, eventually. Geralt sighs and considers getting on Roach and riding away as quickly as possible, but the path is too steep and he doesn’t want to risk hurting her.

His hand grips the reigns tightly, knuckles undoubtedly turning white under the leather of his glove, as the Bard chatters on and on. He’s loud and annoying and Geralt’s already really fucking confused as to why this man is following him. It becomes too much again, and he shuts his eyes tightly, breathing in the hot summer air deeply, trying to calm himself down.

The birds are too loud, as is the crunch of footsteps in the sand, and the chatter behind him doesn’t cease. He feels acutely aware of every scent, taste, sound, and the places where his armour touches his skin. It’s overwhelming, and he wishes he could just clamp his hands over his ears, and bury his face in Roach’s fur to ground himself. As he always does when this sort of thing happens.

It is then that four words break through the static that’s assaulting his senses. “-the Butcher of Blaviken!” He stills, squeezing his eyes shut for a second longer, pushing away the noise that surrounds and invades his mind to the background. He shouldn’t do that – he knows – because if he doesn’t find a quiet place to let his senses rest now, this feeling will return later, twice as bad.

He turns around, now, though, regarding the wide smile on the Bard’s face. “Come here.” The idiot actually does as he’s told. Too trusting for his own good.

Geralt makes sure to hold back a little when he punches the man in the gut. That’ll keep him away. He turns back around, leading Roach along the mountain path, sure that, this time, the Bard won’t follow him again.

He hears footsteps behind him. You were wrong, Geralt.

“That’s an impressive right hook you’ve got there! Kind of hurt, but I’m sure you didn’t mean it like that-“ the Bard keeps on chattering, the words coming out of his mouth so quickly that they seem to blend into each other.

Geralt can’t help but smile, just a little. The man is a fool, naïve, innocent – yes – but apparently he’s also determined and not as weak-hearted Geralt first thought he was. An interesting combination.

They keep walking, and the Witcher can’t bring himself to push the Bard away again – not for now, at least. They will part ways after this contract.

I’d forgotten, people are kind.

҉    ҉    ҉

It’s been half a day since he’s met Jaskier – as he found out the Bard’s name is – and they’re sitting in a tavern a little ways outside of Posada. He looks out over the room, counting the people, assessing the mood of the crowd, making sure he knows where all the exits are. There’s a wall behind and next to him – as he prefers. Less sides for enemies to attack.

Jaskier, on the other hand, is sitting opposite him, back fully exposed, head down, writing in his notebook. He’s vulnerable, and Geralt can’t help but eye the room a little more carefully, making sure no one there might be planning to rob the Bard of his meagre possessions at some point. If they do, the Witcher will make sure they’ll think twice the next time.

His eyes widen a bit, and his ale stills halfway to his mouth, hanging in the air aimlessly, as he realizes he’s not intending on leaving Jaskier tonight - or even tomorrow, for that matter. He doesn’t know when he decided that, or even if he really did at all. Maybe it just came to him naturally. Stupid idiot, always going around trying to protect people. They’re better off without you, Geralt.

He takes a sip of his ale, pushing the accusing voice to the back of his mind. He casts another look around the room, noting how two gentlemen on the other side of the tavern are having a heated discussion. He decides to keep an eye on those two – in case a brawl breaks out and he has to keep Jaskier from getting hurt.

There it is again, that need to protect. You’ve always had a soft heart, Geralt. His hand clenches around the tankard a bit, as he tries, once again, to push away that little voice.

He sighs, and looks up, catching a glimpse of impossibly blue eyes before they quickly look away. He remembers earlier that day, when Jaskier tried to ask about his scars. He feels guilty now, looking back at how he had snapped at the Bard, but his scars are a topic he’s… sensitive about. They always remind him of the fact that he’s not as invincible as everyone assumes Witchers are, and that, one day, he’ll die too. Alone, forgotten.

Jaskier hasn’t asked about them again, though.

I was hurting, and you knew.

 He looks away again, ordering two more ales from the nice barmaid. She gives him a smile that almost – almost convinces him she’s not scared to the death of the Witcher, and hurries off again. He steals another glance of Jaskier, who’s looking into his half-empty tankard with a frown on his face, before Geralt empties his coin pouch on the table.

Well, fuck. There’s enough coin for those two ales he’s just ordered, and maybe a meal tomorrow evening. He needs a contract, fast. He sighs and hands two silver pieces to the barmaid when she places the tankards in front of them, taking the old ones away, after Jaskier’s quickly downed his.

The smell of lukewarm ale invades his nose and suddenly, he feels light-headed. He looks down at the table, shovelling the remainder of his money into his bag. The tavern reeks of ale and sweat and hormones, as middle-aged men try and fail to flirt with the women there.

The people are too loud, everyone chattering, the sound of dozens of footfalls, drunken laughter here and there and the occasional shout. The room is too dim, there are too many people, too many things happening all at once. He’s once again acutely aware of every little sound, smell, taste, colour, every press of the wood of the table against his arms, the bench underneath him, assaulting his heightened senses.

It’s overwhelming, and he curses himself for not taking a breather when the same thing happened earlier that day. He knew this would happen, that the sensation would return tenfold later, yet he had brushed it off. Idiot.

Amidst all the noises, he’s able to discern a voice, closer than the others but still so far away in the racket that invades his ears. “Geralt, are you okay?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to take deep, calming breaths, trying to keep his heartbeat down. It speeds up nonetheless, and his hands involuntarily ball into fists.

Then, a touch on his arm, loud in his already overflowing mind, pulling on him. He lets himself be dragged away, blindly following the person this hand is attached to. Dammit, Geralt, you should know better than to let your guard down.

All of a sudden, when he feels like he’s about to collapse under the pressure and the loudness of it all, everything falls away. The noises dim, and when he opens his eyes, the world around him is dark, empty mountains stretching out under the moonlight. The night air cools the sweat on his skin, and he sags against the tavern wall.

He waits, while the storm around him finally calms down, his heartbeat slowing to a normal level, the crickets outside not so immensely loud in his ears anymore, the touch of the tavern wall no longer overwhelming. He looks to his side, at last, after several minutes of silence and blessed nothingness, and sees Jaskier, looking at him, concern in his eyes.

He realizes the Bard was the one to drag him out of the tavern, when things became too much. He saw – truly saw what was going on and he helped. The Witcher doesn’t know what to say, so he simply stares, dumbfounded, grateful.

Eventually, Jaskier smiles at him brightly, slapping Geralt’s arm. “Right, I’m going back inside. I want to see how well people respond to my new song.” He walks backwards to the door, giving the Witcher a dorky thumbs-up before he disappears back into the tavern. “Wish me luck!”

So you showed me what to do.

҉    ҉    ҉

It’s been a month since he’s met Jaskier, and they’re in the woods, halfway between two towns, both of the villages too far away to reach before midnight. Geralt doesn’t think the Bard minds, though, as they’ve slept outside a lot in the past month – rooms are expensive, and they’ve barely got enough money to eat, anyways.

He works on the fire, and remembers two weeks ago, when Jaskier tried to build one. Always trying to be so fucking nice. His hand clenches around a branch, the wood creaking under his fingers as he recalls how the fire had nearly set Jaskier and the forest around them ablaze, and Geralt had managed to stop it from happening just in time. Something clenches in his gut at the memory, and he writes it off to hunger.

He sits down heavily on a log, once he’s done with the fire, and starts fumbling with the straps of his armour. They’re always a nuisance and he wonders why the fuck no one’s thought of a better alternative than all these goddamn straps and pieces of leather. He bites down on his cheek, trying to distract himself from the frustration that’s building up inside of him, when suddenly, Jaskier’s hands replace his.

He looks up, noticing how the Bard sticks his tongue out of his lips a little as he works – just like he always does when he’s concentrating. He does it when he’s writing, when he’s tying his shoelaces, when he’s trying out new chords, and now, as he undoes the straps of Geralt’s armour quickly. Not that you’ve noticed, right Geralt? Not that you’re looking at him all the time.

He brings his hand up to push Jaskier’s away. “I can take care of my armour perfectly fine by myself, thanks.”

Jaskier stands up, hands on his hips, like a scolding mother, eyebrows raised above brilliantly blue eyes. Stop staring, Geralt. “I know that, dear Witcher,” the Bard says, “but you take forever to do it. So, let me help, and we’ll be able to eat three hours earlier than if you were to do it by yourself. I’m starving.”

How could you ever say no to him, you weak-hearted fool? He can’t, so he doesn’t. “Hmm.”

He watches, as Jaskier continues undoing the straps, tongue poking out of his mouth again, blue eyes concentrated and focused and-

Looking at him. Great one, Geralt, now he’s caught you staring. Jaskier cocks his head, hands coming to rest on his knees. “What?”

The Witcher has to tear his eyes away, instead focusing on the brightness of the fire, hoping it might blind him, preventing him from staring at Jaskier. “Nothing.”

You said: “I will listen, tell it all.”

 “Come on, Geralt, surely you have some interesting stories to tell me.” Jaskier has his notebook in his lap, pencil ready to write down any sparse detail the Witcher might give him.

Geralt shrugs. “It’s monster hunting, Jaskier, it’s not as interesting as everyone thinks.” He smirks at the annoyed look Jaskier gives him, noting in the back of his mind how beautiful the Bard looks when he pouts. Don’t be weird, Geralt.

He continues: “You get the contract, you find the monster, you kill it, you get money sometimes. That’s all there is to it.”

Jaskier sighs dramatically, and rolls his eyes, making a show of putting the pencil and the notebook away. “Really, Geralt, if you won’t tell me anything, then I’ll just have to follow you around some more.” Please do.

He’s not sure why he wants the Bard to keep him company so badly – really, he’s mostly a nuisance and a bother. But he’s also a friend. He frowns at his hands, resting in his lap, the realization hitting him a little too hard to be comfortable.

He shrugs it away, and stands up, spreading his bedroll on the forest floor, and laying down. “You should sleep, it’s getting late.”

He turns his back to Jaskier, listening as the Bard stammers a bit, then lays down as well. He closes his eyes, desperate to shut out whatever it is he’s feeling, the guilt of being so short with Jaskier just now gnawing at him. He pushes it away, falling into a restless sleep.

“When you’re finished, we’ll talk more.”

҉    ҉    ҉

It’s been a month and a week since he’s met Jaskier, and they’re sitting by the campfire once more. The Bard is huddling into Geralt’s side, notebook in his hand as he shivers. It’s not that cold, but the Bard only has thin, unpractical clothing, and they don’t have enough coin to buy him a cloak.

Geralt sighs, and takes his blanket from Roach’s saddlebag, wrapping it around Jaskier. He does not grow warm all of a sudden when Jaskier smiles up at him brightly. He does not feel something flutter in his chest when the Bard presses himself back into Geralt’s side when the Witcher sits back down.

His heart does not melt a little when Jaskier pouts at him. “Please tell me a story of one of your adventures, I need new song material.”

Geralt sighs, mind coming up empty on anything useful or interesting. “I don’t have adventures, they’re just contracts.”

Jaskier sighs theatrically. “Oh, please, you didn’t get your nickname out of the blue, did you? Come on, Geralt, please tell me.”

He feels his jaw clench at the mere memory of Blaviken, and the things that transpired there. “No.”

Jaskier pulls away, looking at the Witcher quizzically. “Is it too painful?”

Geralt closes his eyes for a second, trying to push the hurt away. How does he always see right through you, Geralt? “Maybe.”

The Bard purses his lips, brow furrowing and oh gods he does not look adorable like that. Suddenly, his face brightens up again, blue eyes alight with an idea. “If I tell you why I changed my name, will you tell me about Blaviken?”

Geralt cocks his head, taken aback a bit. He changed his name? Despite his reservations and the old hurt he can still feel at the thought of telling someone about Blaviken, curiosity flares up in him. “Fine.”

But I didn’t know how, so we took it in turns.

 A few hours later, Jaskier looks up at him from where his head is laying on Geralt’s shoulder. “So, it wasn’t your fault.”

Geralt frowns. “It was my fault. I killed those soldiers, I murdered Renfri.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes, looking at him with a half-smile that says ‘oh, gods, you’re so stupid,’ and makes Geralt’s knees a little weak. “They would’ve killed you if you hadn’t. It was self-defence.”

The Witcher snorts, looking at the embers of the dying fire. “The people of Blaviken seemed to think otherwise when they pelted me with rocks and chased me away with pitchforks.”

He feels a warm hand on his own, and looks at Jaskier’s thumb tracing soft, soothing circles in the back of his hand. “Well, the people of Blaviken are stupid. And so is everyone else.” Jaskier’s voice drops to a whisper. “I will fight anyone who calls you the Butcher of Blaviken ever again.”

Geralt smiles, finally meeting Jaskier’s brilliant, blue eyes. “You just said it, too, though.”

A smile in return, and Geralt does not notice a dimple in the Bard’s right cheek, barely there, little more than a slight indent of the smooth skin. “Well, I’ll fight myself, too, then.”

He does not startle at how close Jaskier’s face is to his, he does not see how the embers cast soft shadows on the Bard’s skin, how the blue eyes seem to light up in the dark, he does not feel how the entire world narrows down to the man pressing into his side, to the hand that’s resting on his own.

He does remember he’s a Witcher, and that Jaskier deserves better – so much better than anything Geralt has to offer. He pulls back, standing up, and his skin does not mourn the loss of contact. “Right, I’m going to sleep. It’s getting late.”

He walks around the ashes of the fire, laying down on his bedroll, back turned to Jaskier. He does not feel cold all of a sudden, and if he does, it’s only because Jaskier still has his blanket.

To my surprise, we found my words.

҉    ҉    ҉

It’s been four months since he’s met Jaskier, and they’re all but getting chased out of the town with pitchforks. People glare at them, angry shouts of ‘mutant’, ‘freak’, ‘monster’ thrown at his head. He doesn’t mind that much, though. He’s used to it by now.

What he does care about are the insults Jaskier has to endure, the likes of ‘Witcher’s slut’, ‘filth’, ‘whore’ that make Geralt’s blood boil. He holds his head up high, shooting death-glares at everyone who even looks at the Bard the wrong way.

He steals a few glances of Jaskier as they make their way out of town under the vengeful gaze of the people, lining the streets. He admires the way Jaskier doesn’t say a word in retaliation, for once, and holds his chin up, looking straight ahead.

Sure, this may not be the last time they will come across people like this, but Geralt feels a little less worried about it, now that he knows Jaskier will stand his ground and know when to strike back and – more importantly – when not to.

They leave the town as quickly as possible, angry shouts thrown at them until the wind is able to carry the sound away.

Feet firm on the ground, we stood hand in hand.

 “You okay?” Jaskier looks up at Geralt’s words from where he’s been fiddling with his lute, plucking a few random chords.

The Bard smiles a bit, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just been… a bad day, I guess.”

Geralt sighs. “That’s one way to put it.”

It’s quiet between them for a few moments, and the Witcher goes back to cleaning his sword. It’s not dirty, or anything, and he actually shouldn’t clean an already spotless blade, but he still needs to be able to do something with his hands.

Get your mind off the shit of this world. Off the way you’re hurting him by simply being you. He closes his eyes for a second, pushing the voice as far away as possible.

“What about you, though?” Geralt looks up, meeting impossibly blue eyes. “Are you okay, Geralt?”

He nods curtly. “I’m fine, I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be.” His heart does not break a little at the sincerity with which Jaskier looks at him. He does not melt at the blind hope and trust in those blue eyes.

“No,” he says, ever so softly, “I shouldn’t be.” His hand stills for a moment, before resuming to rub at the silver of his sword with the damp rag. This is the first time he’s ever admitted, even to himself, that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment.

Jaskier’s made him more confident, he realizes. Has made him believe that maybe he does deserve good things happening to him, that he isn’t an inherently bad person. The Bard’s faith and trust in him has rubbed off on him.

He vows, right there and then, to become a better person. If not for himself, then for Jaskier. Because he doesn’t want the little lark’s heart to break once he realizes that Geralt’s not the person he thought he was.

So, he promises himself to be better, do better, become better – be deserving of Jaskier’s inherent goodness and light.

The world seemed to tell me that I have a plan.

 He smiles softly as the Bard strums another chord, the tip of his tongue sticking out from his mouth, brow furrowed in concentration. He’s beautiful.

He knows Jaskier needs more song material, and the past few contracts have given less to sing about than a particularly good sandwich – not to mention the coin has barely been enough to buy them said sandwich. They need the money, and the easiest way to get it is through Jaskier’s music.

He sighs, hesitation in the pit of his stomach. Though, for the first time in a long while, he’s determined. If he’s been able to talk about his worst scars, the ones caused by Blaviken, then surely he might be able to talk about the other ones as well, right.

And yes, they do remind him he’s mortal and not invincible, that he will die at some point, alone and forgotten, but…

Maybe, with Jaskier there, he won’t die like that. Not alone. Not forgotten.

And if that’s the case, well… the scars aren’t so scary all of a sudden. Maybe he can just talk about them, then. So he does.

Together we sang: “I’m ready, now.”

҉    ҉    ҉

It’s been half a year since he’s met Jaskier, and they finally have enough coin for a room at an inn for the night. The innkeeper informs him that there’s only one room left, due to the upcoming Spring festival, but neither of them mind. After all, they’ve slept in each other’s proximity countless of times, and rooms are expensive.

He simply shrugs and takes it, ignoring the way the innkeeper seems to try to say something, but Geralt’s already gone, up the stairs to their shared room, as Jaskier trails behind him.

He sighs as he walks in, the prospect of sleeping in a real bed tonight already making him feel more at ease. He starts taking his armour of, suspecting that he won’t need it tonight, anyway.

His hands start fumbling with the leather straps, when he notices Jaskier – or, more accurately, the absence of Jaskier’s hands, undoing the harder to reach straps. He looks up, meeting big, blue eyes, looking confused and worried.

He does not feel a sharp jab in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Jaskier looking so unhappy. He does not feel the strange urge to hug the Bard, to tell him everything’s going to be alright, no matter what the issue actually is.

Instead, he cocks his head. “Are you going to help me or are you just going to keep staring at me?” Great one, Geralt. Be fucking rude to him, once again. Jaskier sputters a bit, dropping his belongings in a corner with a disregard that is so uncharacteristically not Jaskier. Geralt frowns, but decides against saying anything about it.

The Bard does come to help the Witcher take off the armour, but his hands are fumbling and unsure, something Geralt has rarely ever seen before. It worries him.

Finally, Jaskier speaks: “Uh… Geralt.”

His voice sounds almost unfamiliar, with the way he talks so softly, so concerned, as though the Witcher is a caged animal that’s about to lash out. A tiny bit of worry creeps into Jaskier’s scent, but not fear – never fear.

Geralt sighs, trying – and failing, probably – to look sincere. “What?”

Jaskier swallows thickly, and the Witcher’s eye is not caught by the way the Bard’s throat moves when he does that. He does not think about putting his lips there and inhaling Jaskier’s scent of strawberries and campfire smoke. He does not nearly miss what the Bard says because of this.

“There is only one bed.” Blue eyes evade his, and he does not want to beg Jaskier to just look at him again, so he can see the tiny ring of white that surrounds his pupils, barely visible against the light blue.

He almost forgets to reply, and his voice feels thick and syrupy in his throat. “And?”

Finally, Jaskier looks back at him, and Geralt does not become weak at his knees goddammit. “Who’s going to sleep on the floor?”

Geralt nearly laughs at that. Does he not know you’d do anything to have him close for at least one night, Geralt? No, he doesn’t even consider it. Of course he doesn’t, you treat him like shit.

He pushes the voice away, instead focusing on what’s real, what’s genuine. Jaskier, in front of him. Blue eyes, brown curls, rosy lips. He almost forgets his words again. He shakes his head slightly, trying to clear his mind. “No one is.”

“Oh.” Jaskier nods, hands coming up again to continue their work, tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly in concentration. “Okay.”

Geralt does not feel something warm blooming in his chest.

Something new, something strange.

 He’s standing in front of the mirror, porcelain cool beneath his fingers as he grips the edges of the sink. Jaskier’s downstairs, and Geralt can hear a few fleeting notes of the Bard’s performance filtering through the wooden planks beneath his feet, the crowd bursting into cheering and laughter as the song ends.

The image of himself in the glass is blurry, and he wipes at the mirror, though the years-old dirt can’t be rubbed off the surface that easily. He lowers his hand again, fingers holding onto the side of the sink as though it’s his last lifeline. It isn’t, though.

His last lifeline is downstairs, starting a new song.

He looks into his own amber eyes, for the first time in years – decades even, maybe. That’s you. Yes, you, Geralt.

He tries to will the voice in the back of his head to shut up, but his efforts only make it seem to grow louder and louder. Look at those yellow eyes, that white hair, that scowl. Ooh, scary face. A coward in monster’s clothing.

The porcelain groans under his fingers, and he makes a conscious effort to loosen his grip – a new sink would surely cost them a fortune and earn them a life-long ban from this inn. He squeezes his eyes shut, figures dancing behind his eyelids.

He opens them again, staring at the man in the mirror. A man – he tells himself – nothing more.

Not a monster, not a demon, not a coward. A man.

It’s been years since he really, truly looked at himself in the mirror – he never could bear the sight after the trials were over. He could even less after he had left Blaviken, the red stains on his hands never truly washing off, it felt like.

It felt like. Not ‘feels’, not anymore. He looks down at his hands, now, and can only see the dirt of the road under his fingernails, a bit of soot from last night’s campfire on the back of his right hand. He can almost hear Jaskier’s voice in his ear: “You need to take more baths, Geralt. Really, I can’t walk around with someone who’s covered in dirt all day, every day, can I?”

He smiles down at the sink, and gathers himself for a few seconds, before looking up again. Amber eyes stare back. Yellow eyes, white hair, an eternal scowl. Monster. The little voice is back, whispering in his ear, curling down his spine.

Yellow eyes, like a snake – it says. Like a field of dandelions – he retorts. Like the sun, Jaskier has told him on several occasions.

White hair, unnatural, wrong. Except when Jaskier brushes it out, or runs his fingers through it, or comments on how beautiful he thinks it looks under the light of the sun.

Scowl, always scowling, always looking angry. He remembers the time Jaskier had laid his head on Geralt’s shoulder, a soft thumb, slightly calloused from lute strings, coming up to rub at the skin of the Witcher’s forehead. Smoothing the wrinkles away, dissipating the scowl. “Why are you so angry?” Jaskier had asked. Geralt had replied: “I’m not.” He closes his eyes, letting warmth flood him. Not when I’m with you.

Not a monster. Geralt. Just… Geralt.

Downstairs, Jaskier starts another song. It’s Toss A Coin, and Geralt smiles involuntarily. His heart skips a beat when he looks at himself in the mirror again, smiling. He looks… different. Not good different or bad different, he just looks a way he’s never seen himself before. More carefree, happier, yellow eyes lighting up like the sun. Is this the way Jaskier sees me?

Maybe it’s good different, after all.

He suddenly feels tired, his entire body weighing him down. He lets go of the sink, fingertips brushing against the small indents he’s left in the porcelain, and he hopes no one notices it. He doesn’t want to pay for a new sink.

He lays down on the bed, pulling the blankets around him as he hears Jaskier coming up the stairs. He smiles again, and finds joy in the action, as he remembers the man in the mirror.

Ten feet taller, I had changed.

҉    ҉    ҉

It’s been nine years since he’s met Jaskier, and he grunts as the Bard empties a bucket of water over his head.

“Now, now, stop your boorish grunts of protest.” Jaskier drops the bucket onto the floor, as Geralt tries to scrub the Selkiemore guts off his arm, only managing to smear it out more. Fuck.

Jaskier continues talking as he walks over to the towel cabinet. “It is one night bodyguarding your very best friend in the whole wide world, how hard could it be?” He wipes his already spotless hands on the towel, as Geralt turns around.

“I’m not your friend.” The words are out of his mouth before he realizes it. Though, to be honest, he’s not wrong. Jaskier may be his best friend, but the Witcher’s been nothing but mean and cruel to the Bard, despite his intentions of treating him better. So he’s not Jaskier’s friend, really.

Yeah, whatever, Geralt. Anything to try and keep your distance and deny what you’re feeling for him.

Jaskier smiles at him, seeing right through the Witcher, as always. “Oh, oh really? You usually let strangers rub chamomile onto your lovely bottom?”

Geralt pulls his eyebrows up at him. That was one time, three years ago, because I got bitten in the ass by a feral dog. That you provoked. He says nothing, though, and Jaskier chuckles. “Yeah that’s what I thought.”

He continues to the shelf that holds all the bath salts and oils, nimble fingers picking at a few bottles before he chooses a particular kind of salt. Sandalwood, Geralt notices. Something that won’t assault his heightened sense of smell as much as flowery perfumes would. He knows me so well. His heart does not clench at the thought.

Jaskier keeps rambling, barely able to contain his excitement. “Every lord, knight, and twopenny king worth his salt will be at this betrothal. The lioness of Cintra herself will sing the praises of Jaskier’s triumphant performance!” With a swirl and a dramatic flick of his hand that’s so typically Jaskier, the bath salt lands in the water.

But that’s not why the Bard has asked him to come along, Geralt knows. As much as it hurts him, he knows Jaskier has a particular reason for inviting him. ‘Bodyguarding your very best friend in the whole wide world,’ he remembers.

“How many of these lords want to kill you?” He does not feel a sharp pang of hurt at the thought of how many people Jaskier has slept with to acquire such a large amount of enemies. Stop it, Geralt, you’re just a friend.

Jaskier looks away, blue eyes lighting up the whole room, candlelight flickering on his face and he does not look beautiful, stop thinking like that, Geralt. “Hard to say, one stops keeping count after a while.”

He walks around the bath again to hang the towel on the hook on the wall, rambling as he does so: “Wives, concubines, mothers sometimes.” Geralt does not feel hurt.

Jaskier turns around, and Geralt realizes he’s been scowling again, as the Bard frames his face dramatically. “Ooh, yeah, that face! Scary face! No lord in his right mind will come close if you’re standing next to me with a puss like that.” No wives, either, then?

Still, he feels a little bit of pride at the fact that Jaskier trusts him so blindly, lays his life in Geralt’s hands because he has faith the Witcher will always be there to protect him.

I believe you, I’m not wrong. Oh, it suits me to feel strong.

 He takes the tankard of ale that’s standing next to the bath, though Jaskier’s hand immediately swoops it away from under his nose. You’re lucky you’re cute.

“On second thoughts, might want to lay off the Cintran ale. A clear head would be best.” His hand slaps on Geralt’s shoulder as he stands up, leaving a trail of blazing fire in its wake as he puts the mug away.

Geralt sighs, hand clenching involuntarily. “I will not suffer tonight sober because you his your sausage in the wrong royal pantry.” He knows he’s being unnecessarily cruel to the Bard, that Jaskier has every right to sleep with whoever he pleases. But still – it hurts.

Jaskier doesn’t reply, and Geralt takes that as a cue to continue, to fill the uncomfortable silence with something, anything: “I’m not killing anyone, not over the petty squabbles of men.”

Jaskier scoffs. “Yes, yes, yes. You never get involved, except you totally do, all the time.” And goddammit how does he always look through me?

His eyes follow Jaskier as the Bard walks around the bath. “Ugh, is this what happens when you grow old, you become unbelievably crochety and cantankerous? Actually, I’ve always wanted to know, do Witchers ever retire?”

Geralt’s only ever known one way for Witchers to stop taking contracts. Dying. “Yes, when they slow and get killed.”

“Come on,” Jaskier continues, hand on his hip, brilliant blue eyes curious, “you must want something for yourself once all this monster hunting nonsense is over.”

Except it never ends, not that Geralt’s ever heard of, anyway. And even then, what would he do? Become a farmer? Settle down? Even if he does - which he won’t – he will outlive anyone he settles down with.

He will outlive Jaskier. He does not feel a surge of anger and hurt at the thought.

He cocks his head, as Jaskier looks at him expectantly. “I want nothing.”

He does not think he smells disappointment in the Bard’s scent. He’s definitely making things up. False hope.

“Well,” Jaskier pouts a little, resting his folded arms on the edge of the tub, and gods would he stop looking so beautiful, “who knows, maybe someone out there will want you.”

Only if it’s you. He almost says the words, but remembers once again that he’s a Witcher, and Jaskier deserves so much better than him. “I need no one, and the last thing I want is someone needing me.” Cause I will inevitably disappoint you.

Jaskier looks up at him, all blue eyes and candlelight on soft skin and brown curls. “And yet, here we are.”

Geralt blinks, not sure if he’s really heard what he thinks he’s heard. That Jaskier needs him. No. Not possible. It was just a figment of my imagination. Still, he feels a spark of hope, kindling in his chest. That maybe there is something other than monster hunting waiting for him, that maybe he doesn’t have to be alone, for the rest of his life.

You said: “I will listen, tell me it all. You don’t like the ending? Then we’ll find one that’s yours.”

҉    ҉    ҉

It’s been twenty-two years since he’s met Jaskier, and he’s filled with grief and guilt as he sits on a rock on the side of the mountain. It was his job to keep Borch safe, and he failed. Not only that, but he couldn’t even save Téa and Véa. Now they’re gone. Dead. Because of him.

He feels Jaskier sitting next to him, a flash of the bright red of the Bard’s doublet in the corner of his eye, and he remembers how beautifully it contrasts with Jaskier’s blue eyes. Still, he keeps his gaze trained on the horizon.

“You did your best, there’s nothing else you could’ve done.” Reasonably, Geralt knows that. He knows the planks were half-rotten and unstable, he knows he never could have saved them, but still, it hurts.

They sit in silence for a while, as Geralt lets the guilt and grief consume him. Suddenly, again, that soft voice next to him: “Look, why don’t we leave tomorrow? That is, if you give me another chance to prove myself a worthy travel companion.”

Geralt scoffs at the thought of Jaskier not being a worthy travel companion. If he wasn’t, they surely wouldn’t have spent twenty-two years, three months, and five days together, would they? Not that Geralt was keeping track of how long it’s been since he’s met the Bard. Not that it means anything to him.

Jaskier continues, apparently spurred on by Geralt’s half-chuckle: “We could head to the coast, get away for a while.” Oh, gods, there’s nothing I would rather do.

He almost says it, but hesitates. What if he seems to eager? Comes off too strong? Maybe Jaskier doesn’t even mean it like a vacation, maybe he’s just heard of a contract or a monster on the coast. Maybe Jaskier wants to hear the Siren’s song for once, because Geralt wouldn’t let him come along on the hunt the last time they encounter one. What if-

“Sounds like something Borch would say, doesn’t it?” Geralt curses himself for overthinking the offer, for not taking it when he had the chance. Would it sound too awkward to do so now? Maybe it would but-

“Life is too short. Do what pleases you, while you can.” Jaskier’s voice has trailed off into a whisper. Geralt frowns. Life is too long if I have to live part of it without you.

Still, he knows Jaskier can’t possibly mean it like Geralt so desperately hopes he does. Twenty-two years and not once has the Bard made a move. So, clearly, he doesn’t feel the same way the Witcher does. Unrequited feelings. Sounds like a corny song.

Maybe that’s it. “Working on your next song?”

Jaskier chuckles, a sound that reverberates in Geralt heads and he does not wish he could hear the Bard chuckle like that every day for the rest of his long life. “No, just… trying to figure out what pleases me.”

What pleases me? Hearing Jaskier laugh pleases him. Seeing him smile does, too. Hearing him sing, watching his fingers on the strings of his lute, seeing those brown curls in the sunlight, having those blue eyes looking at him. The lame jokes, the stupid quips, the petty squabbles with other people that insult Jaskier’s music. The drunken laughter, the soft snoring, the yawns early in the morning.

Oh, gods, I’m in love.

He does not realize after twenty-two years that he’s in love.

What now? He looks at the sunset, acutely aware of Jaskier’s presence next to him. Now, he will go to Yennefer’s tent, tell her he’s leaving, and take Jaskier up on his offer to go to the coast. And then? He’ll see.

How did you know? That’s all we need. A promise of hope is enough to feel free.

҉    ҉    ҉

It’s been twenty-two years since he’s met Jaskier, and he makes the worst mistake of his life.

҉    ҉    ҉

It’s been twenty-three years since he’s met Jaskier, and he’s standing in front of a shitty inn, in a nowhere town. He’s heard rumours of the Bard being here, after a year of searching for him.

Of course, he doesn’t have much hope of finding Jaskier here, since most of the rumours he’s chased up until now were dead ends. Either Jaskier would be long gone, or he was never even there at all. Still, Geralt will take any chance he can get at seeing the Bard again.

If only so he can say sorry. For everything. For the shouting, for the hurt, but also for not showing Jaskier the appreciation he truly deserved all those years. For the mean words, for the ignored sentences. For everything.

Feet firm on the ground, we stood hand in hand.

 He walks into the inn, immediately noticing it’s quite packed, despite it being a small town. Maybe Jaskier’s here, after all. He does always gain a lot of attention.

Geralt approaches who he assumes is the innkeeper, a pot-bellied man with a – frankly, impressive – moustache. “I heard there was a Bard in town.”

The man wipes a glass on a dirty cloth, smearing out the filth over the surface. “Aye. You heard right, Witcher. Though, I don’t think he’s up for a performance tonight. ‘s Been drinking all day.” Geralt frowns. That doesn’t sound like Jaskier.

The innkeeper takes his silence as encouragement and continues: “As a matter of fact, he’s been drinking for the past few days he’s been here. Not really great performances, if you ask me. Can’t even distinguish his lute from a chair, if you get what I mean.”

Geralt cocks his head. That doesn’t sound like Jaskier at all. “What does he look like?”

Maybe that’ll clear things up. It does. “Brown hair, blue eyes, wears pretty fancy clothing, though they’re a bit old, if you ask me. Lovely fellow, even though he’s off the rockers all the time.”

That’s Jaskier, alright. “Where can I find him?”

The innkeeper raises his eyebrows at him suspiciously, relenting after holding a short staring contest with the Witcher. “Upstairs, last door to the left.”

“Thank you.” He walks up the stairs, ignoring the way people stare at him. The usual.

And I told the world that I have a plan.

 He stands at the top of the stairs for a few seconds, thinking about how torturous the last year has been without Jaskier. No singing, no humming, no music, no chatter, no Jaskier. And it was all Geralt’s fault.

How stupid he had been. Mistake after mistake, piling up into one big, shit-covered crescendo that left him alone and angry and regretful.

He’s been writing a letter, or a speech, or something – he’s not entirely sure how to label it - for when he would find the Bard again. He’s scratched it out and restarted it a hundred times. The right words never really seemed to come, or they would be… too much. Too sensitive, too revealing of his true feelings.

He doesn’t want to chase Jaskier away. Not now. Not while he still has a chance of at least getting him back as a friend.

He was finally able to perfect his speech about a week ago, and he’s not nervous. He’s definitely not more nervous than he’s ever been in his life. He walks up to the door, hesitating a bit, hand up in the air, ready to knock.

It might not be Jaskier. The Bard might not want to see him. Even if he does, he might not forgive Geralt. And, even then, things might never go back to the way they were before.

Only one way to find out.

He sighs, finally knocking on the door.

Together we sang: “I’m ready now.”

 He pats his pockets, and realizes he forgot the paper with the speech in Roach’s saddlebags. The door opens, Jaskier startling when he sees Geralt.

[tenglows]

13 & 16 + angst + lucas pls 🤧🤧

[ 13: what would you have said to me? ] + [ 16: maybe i should have lied ] ok this is going to be good

the prompts

everyone started cheering as you walked down the aisle, the classic organ music encouraging them to stand up from their seats to welcome you.

your mother left you in front of your soon-to-be-husband, who had never had this much light in his eyes before. staring at you, eyes glowing as if they were in front of a stellar explosion.

the vows came after that, laughter, tears and sentiment flooding the room. your parents were totally bawling their eyes out, your friends doing likewise. you caught sight of your bestfriend!yukhei who had his cheeks full of tears. you gave him a thumbs up and he responded with a half smile.

“if any of you has a reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace”

you were too lost in your thoughts to notice the priest was talking again, but you were brought back to reality when the room fell silent for a moment.

smiling at your fiancé, you let out a deep breath. you were one step behind of giving each other your rings, sharing an intimate kiss and living happily ever after. easy, right?

“i do” the entire crowed gasped as you recognized the tall boy standing in the middle of the path.

“yukhei, what?”

“i don’t think you should marry him”

you exasperatedly looked around for answers, but everyone was as shocked as you were.

“let’s talk outside” you stepped down and inhalations and murmurs could be heard again. “i’ll be right back” you apologized with pleading eyes to the boy standing in front of you.

“yukhei, we said no jokes today” you held your dress while running out of the venue, feeling the summer breeze. this had to be taken out of a movie scene. it couldn’t be real.

“i’m not joking” he impossibly tried to find your gaze, you not being able to keep still.

“what do you mean?”

“i love you” he blurted.

you felt as if the whole world stopped. as if you were in a car driving at full speed until it crashed against the most solid wall ever built, only to collapse into pieces.

“what?” you almost felt as if your mouth was spitting out words on its own. you couldn’t think of anything right now, barely even move. maybe you had heard him wrong.

“i love you”

yukhei and you had always had this weird relationship, to say the least. you had known each other for as long as you could remember. growing up together, you fell in love with him overtime. and him with you too. but for some reason, call it fear, call it youth, neither of you had ever came clean about it.

he had kissed you, once, on your 18th birthday party. and that night, both of you fell asleep fantasizing about it finally being the start of something new.

but it never even started. maybe you were absurdly shy to bring the topic up, or the chance just didn’t present itself. what you did know is that time passed and you got over yukhei. you guys remained best friends, of course, but as you got older, you also fell in love again. with someone who didn’t have trouble making his love for you known. with the person you had now left alone at the aisle.

“i love you since, always. since we were kids, y/n, i’ve been meaning to tell you from that kiss i still can’t get out of my head”

“that kiss, yukhei, was almost four years ago now. you had time” you sputtered. you were furious and you wanted him to know. and oh, he definitely felt it, the dissapointment and distaste in your voice.

“i know i’m late”

“yes, you’re more than late. what were you expecting when you confessed your love for me on my wedding day?!” yukhei’s hands trembled while watching you scream, your beautiful, full of make-up face crumbling down as the conversation went further.

“i think realizing you were actually marrying someone else encouraged me”

“you should have found that amazing courage some long time ago”

“yeah, well, but what would you have said to me? huh? if i had confessed back then?”

“fuck yukhei, i don’t know!” you cried out. “but it might have been different. you just had to do it at my wedding when i already moved on”

the boy cautiously walked towards you, and just admired you for a second. when you didn’t give any sign of protest, he held your hand and interlocked your fingers.

“tell me you really moved on” he put his forehead against yours. he could see your chest growing bigger with every hurried breath you took. “tell me you don’t love me, that maybe i should have lied back there. pretended to be happy for you”

his head brushed against your perfectly combed styling, petals daintily placed over your hair. his hands took care of your ridiculously cold ones. he was waiting for an answer. even without looking at him, you could feel his hopeful eyes.

neither had the y/n toddler, the hormonal and teenager y/n, the i’m-gonna-write-love-poems-for-you-more-than-i-breathe y/n ever imagined she would end up in this situation. she had always dreamt about situation like this, one small, different detail from the actual reality being that yukhei was meant to be the one standing on the aisle all along.

you stood on your feet again and cleared your throat, rearranging your dress and soggy make-up. positioned in front of the heavy door, you stared back at him.

“perhaps you should have”.

[81scorp]

From the diary of Angela Baker

(Originally posted on Deviantart Oct 30, 2017)

Warning: This fanfic contains SPOILERS for the 1983 horrorfilm Sleepaway Camp directed by Robert Hiltzik.

---------------------------------------- Dear Diary My name is Angela Baker and I... have lived an interesting life. When I was little my dad and brother Peter died in a motorboat accident. It scarred me mentally and the next eight years was a very hard time in my life. I was adopted not long after the accident and lived with my aunt, Dr. Martha Thomas, and my cousin Ricky. My aunt is actually very nice and positive... a little TOO positive. She`s kinda like Snow white... if Snow white was a stepford wife who had taken too much Prozac. My cousin Ricky is OK, he always looks after me. Anyway, after having been raised and homeschooled by my quirky aunt for eight years She thought it was a good idea to send Ricky and me away to summercamp. She thought it might help me come out of my shell since I had been very introverted for all those years. Summercamp was not as bad as I had feared, I met some nice people and started to open up a bit.Then people started to die.At first the deaths seemed to be accidents, but then it became clear that they weren`t. To make a long story short, the killer was caught and I turned out to be a guy.I should probably go back to the beginning and explain a few things.I remember when I first met my aunt Martha she was so optimistic of having a new kid in the house. I don`t remember everything she said, but the gist of it was that she had always wanted a girl. I remember the last thing that she said very clearly though. "Angela... Such a lovely name... Why I believe it means Angel! Why yes I`m sure it does! I know you`re going to like that name. Won`t you Peter?" So... the part where I said that my brother Peter died? Change it to "sister Angela" and you have the correct picture. My aunt liked my sister more, but since she was gone my aunt decided to take advantage of my traumatized psyche and raise me as a girl in her place. And the killer? That was me, I killed all those people. In my defense though, most of those people were mean to me. Anyway, I was sent to an insane asylum... for about a couple of months. One of the doctors declared me sane and let me out. To be honest, I don´t think I was fully cured, but I guess they just needed the extra bed. I wasn`t the only one he let out. There was another guy who was older than me (old enough to be my dad). He and I discussed what we were gonna do now that our old lives had ended and our new lives just begun. To (once again) make a long story short: he is now my new legal guardian. I like him a lot more than my aunt Martha. Sure, she was nice and all but that lady was crazy! This new guy is mental health personified compared to her! He runs a motel and his name is Norman, Norman Bates. I call him "Uncle Norm".He is nice and, like I said earlier, WAY more balanced than aunt Martha but there is one downside to living in the same house as him. His mom. I`ve never met her but I can sometimes hear her voice through the walls. She shouts a lot and says such awful things to Uncle Norm when they`re in the same room. Poor guy, he doesn`t deserve her treatment. Sure, she has her moments when she treats him with kindness, but those moments are few. Maybe I could take care of her like I did to those mean people at summercamp? I could make it look like an accident. But that will have to wait for another day. The doctor that declared me sane helped me get in contact with a guy who can provide me with estrogen. I`m going through puberty and I`ve done this Angela thing for so long that going back to living as a guy again would just feel weird. Another thing I`m not gonna go back to is being homeschooled. That`s right, I`m gonna start going to public school a week from today. If I`m gonna learn to be more social and open up I need to spend time with real people. When it`s gymclass I`ll just do what I did at summercamp: not shower with the other girls, just wait till they`re done. Completly foolproof. Just think about it, my first day at a real high school, one week from today! Eek! I`m so excited!

Peace. Angela

- - - - - - It`s been one week since I started high school today. Forks High School to be precise. Not as great and exciting as I hoped it would be, but, thank god, not as horrible as I had feared.I`ve made some friends. Their names are Jessica Stanley, Tyler Crowley, Mike Newton, Angela Weber and Bella Swan. It was very easy to build a circle of friends. All it took for me was to befriend Jessica and she introduced me to the rest. They`re all fun to hang around with... except Bella. She`s not a mean person or anything but she seems very disinterested in hanging with the group. Then there`s this weird guy who doesn`t come to school every day, only the cloudy days. He has pale skin, a stupid haircut (What`s the deal with his hair? Who would willingly style their hair like that?) and looks, for lack of a better word, almost vampiric. I don`t like the way he looks at me. I heard from Jessica that his name is Edward. Edward Cullen.

- - - - - - I almost died today.I was standing at my school`s parkinglot and some guy who was in a hurry lost control of his car. I was almost crushed between his car and one that was parked behind me. But then that Edward Cullen guy showed up out of nowhere, grabbed me and stopped the car from slamming in to me. At least that what I think happened. Everything happened so fast and when I finally realized that I had been just a second away from death he was gone. All that was left was a big dent in the door of the car and it`s driver wondering if I was OK.If that really was Edward then there`s more to him than meets the eye, and maybe he`s not as bad as I thought he was.

- - - - - - I take back everything nice I`ve ever said about Edward Cullen. It has been one week since he saved me from being crushed by that car and after that he has only gotten more interested in me. He stares at me, follows me around, appears mysteriously out of nowhere one second and disappears without a trace the next. I think he even snuck into my bedroom and watched me when I was asleep. He scares me. I`m afraid that he`ll find out about my secret. Then again, maybe he already knows and has no problems with it. The guy IS supernatural after all, it`s possible that maybe he has supersmell and can smell the small amount of male hormones I have. But that leads me to the other thing about him that scares me: He`s a stalker with superhuman speed and strength, and I`m just an ordinary mortal. If I want to get rid of him he`ll see me coming and stop me before I`ve even been able to scratch his skin. I`m scared. So scared.

I felt I had to tell someone. It may not get rid of Edward but at least I won`t feel alone, so I decided to tell our school`s guidance counselor miss Summers. I don`t know her first name but I`m sure it starts with a B and ends with a Y. It`s either Betty or Buffy. She`s a little younger than most of the teachers at school, probably in her early twenties, and is a real good listener. I told her about Edward but I left out the part about him having superpowers. I described him as "that pale guy with a creepy stare, stupid haircut, really stupid haircut" and I also mentioned "almost vampiric". I`m not sure but I think I noticed something in her eyes when I mentioned that last part. She told me not to worry and that she would keep an eye on him. I hope that`s enough. - - - - - - It has now been two weeks since the last time I wrote and there has been no sign of Edward Cullen in the school or even in the entire town. Whatever it was that miss Summers did it sure was effective. Turns out that thing that happened to me, being saved from a car by Edward only to be spied on by him later, happened to another girl a month before me. The girl in question was one of my classmates, Bella Swan. Now that Edward`s gone Bella`s all torn up about about it, as if she`s "lost the love of her life". Please! First: the guy was a creepy stalker, second: you weren`t the only one he stalked. So basically, he cheated on you. There are better guys out there than him. Unfortunately Bella hasn`t come to that realization yet, she`s been inconsolable since the day it became clear that he wasn`t gonna come back. I wanted to help her and gave her the number to the best therapist I know, the guy who helped me and uncle Norm get out of the insane asylum, Dr Hannibal Lecter. - - - - - - Two weeks have now passed since the last time I wrote. What has happened since then? Oh yeah, about a week ago Bella decided to take my advice and visit Dr Lecter and I haven`t seen her since. Wonder what happened? Oh well. I and the rest of my friends had a halloween party at Jessica`s house yesterday. I came dressed as Cleopatra. We did the mash. We did the monster mash. The monster mash. It was a graveyard smash.

Fun times were had. I have really grown as person these last months. I have come a long way from the shy, introverted non-girl that was too afraid to reach out and make new friends. I just hope they never find out my secret. If they do... Oh well, guess I`ll just have to make it look like an accident. Gotta go now, uncle Norm is shouting that the dinner is ready. We`re having pancakes. (Yay!)

Peace.

Angela

[goodnessmarygrace]

Hi, my name is Mary Grace and I’m new to Tumblr. I made this blog because nobody I know has Tumblr, so it feels like I can be more open about my struggles without drawing attention to myself. Anyways, here goes nothing. This is my story thus far. It’s a long one, so buckle up!

I was diagnosed with POTS last month after two increasingly difficult and perplexing years. You could think of me as being sorta athletic and very ambitious normally if you like. I’m a perfectionist and I have anxiety. I began really feeling and noticing the POTS symptoms about two years ago. For a year, I just always assumed I was out of shape or everybody felt the same way and I was just being a wimp. I was super tired all the time and would get very dizzy with standing up and running. I would get spotty vision and feel the familiar “hot ice” feeling you get when you might faint. These symptoms were not incredibly severe or anything, so I just always hid them so that people wouldn’t label me as “dramatic” or “lazy.” I played basketball, softball, ran track, did marching band, football cheer-leading, scholar bowl, FCA, and FCCLA at the time of the onset of symptoms. I always assumed that I was just stressed out or had a really bad cold and it was nothing to give a second thought about. If anything, hiding my symptoms made me feel like I was in control or tough.

Another thing you must know about me to understand my story is I am a Christian and Jesus plays a big part in my life each and every day. Come summer 2019, I was a helper/counselor at the 5th and 6th grade week at the local Church Camp. That’s when some things really clicked for me spiritually. I realized that my life had been fairly easy. I have a loving family, live in an awesome community, have been blessed with friends and talents all my life, and for the most part, I’d been healthy and hadn’t had to deal with many terrible things. Most of all, I’m free to live for and worship my LORD and Savior.

It’s a life that many crave and would give anything to have. But that week at Church Camp initiated a thought process in me. I realized I had never really depended on GOD because everything in my life had seemed so... easy I guess. I was incredibly thankful for my life, but there came a time when I realized that I didn’t really live by faith or trust or hope. I didn’t completely even understand what they mean! How can you live for GOD without knowing what it is like to completely trust Him with every aspect of your life? My life story was (yes, comfortable and safe) but also a bit empty. It was shallow where it could be deep. And after lots of prayer and some soul searching, I realized my story was shallow because I had hardly ever struggled. So then I began praying dangerously. I asked (or begged) GOD to break me if He had to.

And oh my, He sure answered that one. The symptoms got worse, but I didn’t think much of them considering I had quit (or retired (; ) from softball. (There’s a whole separate story to why I quit softball that I just can’t possibly fit in this post. It was a big developmental step in my life and something that I still am learning from.) I assumed I was just getting out of shape and I should exercise and live healthier. More water, more sleep, better food, etc. Running was getting harder and harder. I was always exhausted, which I blamed on stress and lack of good sleep. Basketball season is what really did it in for me. The first real “attack” or “episode” happened during conditioning week. I almost fainted. I got a migraine and was so dizzy that I couldn’t walk straight. My vision was seriously messed up and that “hot ice” feeling you get before passing out kept washing over me. (I had passed out/ almost passed out before this but always blamed it on being squeamish or something else unconcerning.)  I eventually sucked up my pride and told my coach, “I gotta lie down!” It was humiliating. I used to be able to run like nobody’s business. I mean, some people were jealous of my exercising capabilities. It seemed like my fault since I had quit softball and seemingly was so out of shape that I almost passed out. I felt like a quitter. There was so much shame and guilt. I must have forgotten it was actually an answer to my prayers.

The season progressed and I repeatedly had to lie down when it came to conditioning and running. It didn’t help that I got mono for the second time in my life that winter (no, not from kissing) and was so stubborn that I refused to stay home or go to the doctor. I had mono, pharyngitis, and a double ear infection for months, but I didn’t want to rest because I thought people would think I was lazy. We began trying to figure out why I would get the POTS symptoms as well, because my mom started to think that something really was going on. In the end, we decided to blame it on blood sugar. I told people I was hypoglycemia. I brought juice to basketball practice, and when I would drink it, I would trick myself into thinking that I felt better because I was sick of having no idea what was going on.

Finally, when basketball season was wrapping up and track season was beginning, I began believing that maybe I wasn’t “just out of shape.” I had been running and exercising for months, but I still had my POTS symptoms. I was praying and trying really really hard to get past the shame and be grateful for my struggles. The thing is, I LOVE track (and was pretty good at it too.) Running and racing has always been, dare I say, fun for me. I was really looking forward to the first practice of the season. My dreams were crushed to say the least. After running the first 400 meters of a mile, I nearly fainted again. I finished the mile, but was not doing so hot. I remember all my teammates and coaches staring at me with worry and surprise. I was so embarrassed. The headache from it didn’t go away until I went to bed that night. What made things worse, was I still didn’t know what was wrong with me. Doctors said “blood sugar?”, “asthma?”, “hormones?”, “anxiety?”, “arrhythmia?”, “stress?”. When people asked, I didn’t have a definite answer, so just I listed all of my symptoms and the possible diagnoses. I got tired of that real quick.

Now that my track season was in jeopardy, I decided that we really needed to figure out what was happening to me. My mom said to take it easy at practice, but I didn’t want to look “lazy.” (You can tell that my mind runs in a useless circle around the concepts of weak and lazy.) I told my coaches that I needed to take it easy, but then just continued to go hard as I could. I mentally could not get past the mindset I had adopted. I didn’t want anyone to think I wasn’t trying and I was making things up, so without really noticing it, I told myself that it was in fact all in my head and I was weak. Then came the pandemic. 

This is becoming way too long, so I’m going to continue it in a part 2. It sounds crazy, but I’m actually pretty thankful for the mess I’ve been through. More explanation later, but I know there is some growth happening in me that never would have begun if I hadn’t gotten these struggles. GOD has shown me so much through these experiences and He’s made room in my busy schedule for the things that actually matter in life. I don’t chase people’s opinions or expectations so much anymore and have learned to be kinder to myself. Again, this blog is kind of going to be like a way to figure some things out and hopefully become part of the community of people who’ve gone or are going through similar experiences. Maybe then I’ll even be able to help someone else in return.

-Mary Grace

June 4, 2020

[daybreak-academy-fanfic]

Daybreak Academy: Chapter 48

The More Things Change

Summary: In which Invi is nostalgic and Ira has insomnia. Word Count: 1,428 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

Something about their yearly trips to the ocean made Invi restless. That is to say, she found it hard to actually sleep once they got there. It was something about the constant shifting of the waves, or perhaps her own excitement to do something other than paperwork all day. And unlike Ava -who was, through and through, an islander-, Invi had never spent her childhood at beaches or near the ocean. But there was just something about this beach, about this ocean, that gave Invi a deep sense of longing.

The summer place itself was nothing more than a few joined cabins on the boardwalk of a private beach. She and Ava had their own cabin that connected to the one Ira, Aced, and Gula were in. The kids were also separated by gender but still connected to the other. Normally, Invi would have seen it as a problem. But the bus trip took all day Friday. That alone was a cause for insomnia if it didn't make you even more tired. Now they had all arrived safely, with everyone's luggage properly unpacked for the month, Invi wanted nothing more than to relax and let the ocean breeze carry her away. Children and their emerging hormones be damned, Invi wanted time for herself.

So that was why -at three in the morning- Invi walked out to the beach in her knee length nightgown with little regard on who saw her.

Invi smiled as the waves kissed her bare toes. She had waited a whole year to feel this again, and it was oh so worth it. Slowly, and savoring every moment of it, Invi started to step further into the crashing waves. When the waves came a little above her ankles, she forced herself to stop; she would have loved to go further if she had been dressed for it. As it stood, she was not, so she only allowed the waves to lap around her ankles.

She let out another contented sigh before she looked down. The water was surprisingly clear at the moment- through the waves she could see something shining under the sand. Curious, Invi bent down and shifted through the sand. Making sure she had a firm grip on the object, she pulled it up and examined it closer. When she realized what it was, Invi laughed. Last year, Ava had insisted on wearing a charm bracelet Ephemer had given her for her birthday. It was a beautiful thing, made mostly from a sterling silver and an engraved clasp. There had not been a lot of charms added to the bracelet yet- but there was one that Ava proudly showed off, because it had been a reminder of her hometown. If Invi could recall correctly, Ava had called it a 'paopu fruit', the charm itself detailed a star shaped fruit set with five yellow diamonds with a single emerald as the stem. Ava didn't take the charm bracelet off during their entire visit to the beach, and -at some point no one could remember- her bracelet had come off while she was wading in the ocean.

It took the whole group the rest of the day to find the bracelet, and when they did, the paopu fruit charm was the only one missing. Ava was so crushed, she refused to wear the bracelet after that- even despite young Ephemer's claims that it was alright and they could have bought another charm for her. Now, a whole year later, Invi was holding that same paopu fruit charm as if it had been dropped yesterday. Giving another laugh, Invi held the charm tighter.

She planned on giving it back to Ava eventually, but for now, Invi still needed to reconnect with the ocean. Invi took in a deep inhale of sea air and smiled in a content, dreamy way that she never let show to anyone or anywhere before. This place? This was home.

“You're going to catch a cold if you stay out here in that.”

Invi gave a small jump as she turned around to see who had spoken. To her relief, it was only Ira. She quickly noticed that he was holding a blanket in his hands, and gave an amused snort.

“How nice of you to care.” she smirked. Regardless, she accepted the blanket from him and immediately draped it over her shoulders. Ira only gave a gruff nod before looking out over the ocean's horizon. Invi soon followed suit, allowing a silence between them, lulled by the sound of the waves.

“How long has it been?” Ira eventually spoke up.

“Hmm?” came the confused response.

Rephrasing himself, Ira clarified, “What year was it when the superintendent first brought us here?”

“Oh…!” Invi remarked. “Gosh, I can't remember. Let's see, Ava's 26 now, and that was back when the superintendent was the headmaster of Daybreak, before Ava adopted Ephemer… It must have been…? Oh wow, I really can't remember.”

“Neither can I.” Ira admitted, still staring out to sea. “And yet, it wasn't that long ago either.”

Invi found she didn't really have an answer to this, so she only gave an absent nod of her head. A few more moments of tranquility between them passed before she remembered something.

“Look what I found.” Invi then said to him, holding out the paopu charm.

“Well I'll be...” Ira marveled. “It can't be it, can it?”

“Has to. What would the odds be otherwise?”

“True.” came the small agreement. “Do you think she'll believe it?”

“No.” Invi disagreed with a shake of her head, putting the charm away. “But Ephemer will.”

“He's a lot like her.” Ira idly noted. His attention turned back to the shoreline, his expression becoming more vague. Invi raised her eyebrow at him.

“Where did that come from?” she inquired. “Does the sea make you become more vague?”

But he didn't answer her, his eyes still trained out over the horizon.

“Sometimes I feel as if the world changes too quickly.” he said, more to himself than to her. “And these kids, they grow up even quicker. But then I look at them, and then I realize, some things just do not change.”

Invi gave a small noise of confusion. “Ira, I don't follow.” she cautiously admitted. She then looked him over with an even more suspicious glance before asking, “Were you drinking?”

Was it awful to say that she was really relieved to see the dark look he gave her? He must have realized that she had only asked out of a genuine concern because his expression eventually softened.

“No.” he admitted. “I've just… I've been thinking a lot, since we've come back here. I guess.”

“A little bit of insomnia?” Invi teased.

“Yeah...” Ira sheepishly admitted as he scratched the back of his head. “Something like that.”

Invi gave Ira a gentle smile before finally turning her attention out to sea. “You might be on to something though,” she mused. “Ephemer and his friends are nearing the end of their childhoods. Things will be changing for them soon, whether they're fully prepared for it or not. But it is a small wonder- are they even aware of it? It didn't seem that way on the ride over. They all seemed so happy, so oblivious to the obvious...”

Ira gave a small nod. His eyes tracked back out to the sea as well. “I wonder if they will be that cheerful on the way back home.” he added. “You could see who likes who by the look in their eyes. It reminded me of Gula and Ava; how it took them so long to realize, and when they did...”

“We were not that much different.” Invi reminded him. “You, me, and Aced took off like rockets the moment we could. Aced isn't wrong to find it a small miracle that we still are comfortable around each other after. But I don't think what we did would work for them, of course.”

“Of course.” Ira agreed. He gave a small sigh in contemplative thought. Almost to himself he said, “It's like I said earlier; the more things change, the more they stay the same. I just hope those kids are able to stay together after this summer. It will be a big one for them, I'm sure.”

Invi gave a small nod before pulling out Ava's charm again. She let out a soft sigh in thought. “I hope they're ready.” she softly decided as she tightly clasped Ava's charm in her hand. “May their heart be their guiding key...”

[miss-noo-na]

Adventures in Babysitting a K-pop Star (Jaehyun Fluff)

Title: Adventures in Babysitting a K-pop Star

Featuring: Jaehyun (NCT) x Reader

POV: Third

Rating: PG-13

Summary: A crazy famous popstar you’ve never heard of wanders into your job, and through a series of unfortunate events he is now your responsibility for the rest of the day. 

Note: This piece was commissioned! If you’d like a commission of your own, check out my sidebar under “request” for information. 

She carried a stack of books out to the table in front of the shop window, plopping them down with a thud and swiping her hand over the top to clear any dust. She took a moment to peer out the big bay window and sigh, it was gorgeous today and she was stuck at work.

Things could be worse, she thought to herself. Her job was quiet for the most part, a used bookstore owned by an old man who hardly ever came in. Most days it was just her, sometimes another coworker. Today she was alone and since it was slow, she’d taken it upon herself to start up on the new summer reading display geared toward teens. She had scoured the backroom  of donations for anything that might entice a young mind, and went about her set-up.

Some music played faintly over the PA system, and she hummed as she meticulously chose where each one would go, making sure it could be seen around the handmade sign.  A sound caught her attention then, and she looked over her shoulder toward the window as a gaggle of teenage girls congregated in front of the store. Their voices were loud and excited and she wondered what all the fuss was about, glancing at them periodically as she continued her display work. They started to move down the sidewalk again and she shrugged to herself, going about her business.

A few minutes later there were high-pitched screams that made her nearly jump out of her skin, and she moved quickly to the window to see what was going on. The girls ran past the window, obviously after something, but they appeared to be screaming in joy, which only made her more confused. Suddenly, the bell above the entrance clanged noisily overhead before it slammed shut again.

She peered around the corner of the window and saw a man there, panting heavily with his back pressed against the door, eyes closed.

“Uh, can I help you?” She asked, and the man’s eyes shot open as he stood up straight.

“Oh, sorry, no. I mean, maybe?” He said peering around the bookstore and seeing it was empty. He was young, and handsome, almost too handsome.

“Were you looking for a book?” She asked, feeling increasingly uneasy with his strange presence.

“Not quite, I was just trying to hide.”

Her eyes went a little wide as she took a step back.

“Those girls out there were looking for me,”

She looked at the window, recalling the ecstatic teenagers, then back at him.

“Why?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. “Um, they are kind of my fans.”

She crossed her arms and gave him an incredulous look. “Fans?”

“Yeah, I’m a singer and-” He stopped himself, “Sorry, you don’t care about this, let me just call someone to-” He started to feel his jean pockets and his face dropped, “Shit.”

“Are you o-” She went to ask, but he started to curse under his breath and push his hand through his hair, pacing around in place as he felt through his pockets again, as if what he was looking for might magically appear. “Mark must have my phone,” He said more so to himself.

She was starting to get a little annoyed by this situation, as she just wanted to put up her display in peace and not deal with someone else’s issues. “Look, can I help you with something or are you just-”

She was interrupted again when they could both hear the escalated voices of girls coming back down the street, and the man’s face went tight with panic. “I have to hide somewhere,”

“That’s a little ridiculous” She sighed, but he was already looking for somewhere to go.

“Please? You’d be doing me a huge favor,” He begged, glancing at the door that read “Staff Only”

She looked to consider it for a moment, as the girl’s voices got louder toward the entrance of the shop. She relented with a heavy sigh.

“Fine,” She said, crossing over to the door to unlock it and let him in.

“Thank you so much” He said, and she mumbled something back and shut it behind him, just as the bell rang and a large group came in.

“Hello ladies,” She turned and plastered on her customer service smile. “Looking for anything in particular today?”

“Oh, we’re fine.” One small girl piped up, “Just looking.”

She nodded and gave the group a once over, a diverse looking bunch roughly 15-18 years old, all wearing similar shirts in a red and white logo she didn’t recognize. She remembered the man saying something about being a singer, and she wondered if he was telling the truth. If he was, he seemed awfully popular for someone she didn’t recognize. She’d like to think she had at least a basic knowledge of current music.

The group moved through the stacks, chatting in their noisy, excited way. She went to sit behind the register, glancing at the staff door every now and then, but also trying to eavesdrop on the girls.

“I can’t believe I touched his arm.”

“Oh my god, his is so soft.”

“I feel kind of bad that he ran away, though.”

She tapped a pen on her chin, thinking maybe he had been truthful all along.

The girls didn’t stay long, they shuffled out and she called out for them to have a nice day. When their voice were no longer audible, she went and opened the staff door.

“Hey, thanks a lot.”

“So a singer, huh?”

He laughed and his smile lit up his face, making his eyes crease and dimples show on his cheeks, which hit her funny.

”Uh, yeah. I’m in a group. I was actually doing some sightseeing with a few of the guys when we got separated. Usually the fans are nice, but sometimes they’re a bit…” He searched for the words.

“Overzealous?” She helped, remembering what it was like to be young and hormonal.

“Right, exactly.”

There was an awkward pause before he stuck out his hand. “I’m Jaehyun, by the way.”

She nodded and offered her name back. “So how come I’ve never heard of you?” She asked, somewhat teasing.

“Oh, we’re not from here.”

“What, this city?”

“No, this country.”

“Oh.” She blinked, as that would explain everything.

“We’re from South Korea, but we’re on a US tour.” He explained, although he almost seemed embarrassed about it.  

“Speaking of which, I kind of have a huge favor to ask you.” He said, fidgeting with his hands. She waited with a curious expression.

“I don’t have any money on me and my phone is gone, I can’t remember anyone’s number without it, do you think you could drive me to the venue?”

She was taken aback by the request, glancing around the bookstore that only she was manning. Plus, she didn’t know this guy.

“I’m kind of working,” She said, shrugging sympathetically.

“Ah, it’s okay, I’ll figure something out.” He said as he started for the door. “Thanks for letting me hide, have a nice day.” He gave a friendly smile and a wave as he walked out.  

She walked back over to her display, trying to distract herself with her task again, but as she peered out the window she saw Jaehyun idling on the sidewalk, looking up at a street sign and rubbing his head, clearly lost. She huffed, walking hastily into the employees office, grabbing her things, and shutting off the lights.

She exited the book store and locked it up, Jaehyun turning toward her as she did so.

“Where’s the venue?” She asked and Jaehyun blinked.

“Oh, you don’t have to close the store, I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “We’re dead today anyway, I doubt my boss will notice. Plus, I can’t have you stranded out here like a lost puppy.” She explained, wondering if she should have’ kept that part to herself. He did look like a cute little retriever out there on the sidewalk with his soft face and fair hair.

“That’s really kind of you, the venue is on Main street...I think?”

She paused a moment. “That’s clear across town.”

Jaehyun laughed nervously. “Yeeeah, look its fine I can just-”

“The shop’s already closed, come on.” She gestured for him to follow, not even believing she was doing this.

They walked through an alley to the parking lot for employees only. Her car wasn’t what you would call….new. It was a beater of a silver Sedan from the 80′s, but it ran and it had air conditioning and that was all that mattered on a book sellers budget.

She got in and cleared a jacket and some stray receipts from the passenger seat, feeling a little self-conscious about the state of her vehicle, thinking this guy must be used to being chauffeured around in limos or something, if he was really famous.

“I don’t usually have guests.” She said, and Jaehyun laughed it off, telling her not to worry about it.

She propped her phone up on its holder and put the coordinates into the GPS, realizing the mid-day traffic on a weekend was going to be a bitch. Jaehyun made a pained face at the phone when the drive time came up.

“Sorry.” He said, looking down.

“Hey, it’s my fault for agreeing to it.” She replied with good humor, and that seemed to ease some of the tension.

They didn’t say much at first, Jaehyun staring out the window as they traversed the city, but once they were on the freeway and things were at a not-quite-crawling but not too fast pace, she spoke up.

“Did you at least get to see enough of the city?” She asked, glancing at him.

“A little.” He shrugged, “I mean, of course I’d like to see more, but we only get a day or two, if that.”

“Sounds exhausting” She said, not even able to imagine going from city to city like that. The traveling alone would tire her out, not even including some kind of performing.

“It can be,” He said honestly, but then smiled. “But it’s worth it.”

“This group, how many of you are there?”

“Eight, right now.”

“Right now?” She raised an eyebrow, and he laughed.

“We kind of change around. There’s more than one group, members come and go.”

“Like Menudo?” She blurted out in an almost excited fit of amusement, then felt bad about it and bit her tongue. She was glad that Jaehyun seemed as lighthearted as she did.

“Sure, like Menudo, but better.”

“I don’t know about that. Menudo had Ricky Martin.”

There was quiet and she glanced over at Jaehyun to make sure he knew she was joking, and he was just staring at her with this bemused yet happy look on his face that made her turn quickly back to the road and get a little nervous.

“You’re right, I could never beat Ricky Martin.” He finally said with a fake sigh.

“Maybe one day, if you’re lucky,  you too will be Livin’ La Vida Loca.” She said, and liked the way he laughed so openly at her stupid comments.

“I think I already am.” He said faintly, peering out the window.

Their brief silence was interrupted by a sputtering noise from the front of the car. It did it once, then again...then finally again much louder as the car jolted. Her eyes went wide.

“No, no, no. Please no, not today.” She chanted as she giggled the gear-shift, like it would help.

It was no use, the hunk of metal sputtered out its last breaths and luckily she was so used to this that she had already begun maneuvering the vehicle to the shoulder, just in time for it to roll to a stop and die.

“God dammit!’ She yelled, slamming her hand on the steering wheel.

“Uh, I’m guessing this isn’t good?”Jaehyun commented uneasily.

“No, not at all.” She said, taking out her phone. “Look, I’ll call us an Uber. I’ll have it drop you at the venue and then take me back to the shop.”

“I’m really sorry you went through the trouble. Thanks for trying, at least.” Jaehyun  said sheepishly.

“Don’t mention it, our ride will be here in 10 minutes.”

The two of them sat awkwardly for a moment before the heat in the dusty old car became too much.

“I’m gonna stand outside.” She said before getting out, not too surprised that Jaehyun followed.  She circled toward the road and leaned against the hood, him following suit, crossing his arms and staring at the ground.

“So, uh,” She began, having to talk a little loud as they watched cars whiz past them on the freeway, at least providing a much needed breeze. “What’s it like being famous?” She asked, unsure of what else to say. She probably wouldn’t ever talk to an international popstar again, so she figured she might as well learn all she can.

He laughed, shifting on his feet and staring at the ground. “I don’t really think about that, I don’t have time to.” He explained, and she nodded as she listened.

“But I mean, this tour has made that more apparent. I had no idea we had so many fans out here.” He said, picking up his head and squinting out toward the road in thought.

“Yeah, those girls were pretty excited, you must be good.” She said, and Jaehyun shrugged.

“I feel like we’ve been talking about me all day, what about you?”

She laughed, “Me? I’m not a popstar. I just work in a bookstore.”

“Yeah, I figured,” He smiled, “What else?”

She stared into the road like he was, the cars racing by a great metaphor for her thoughts right now as she searched out something interesting to say. Who the hell am I? Her inner voice echoed.

“There isn’t much else. I like books, and interesting people, and music, and crab legs.”

He chuckled, “Me too. Man, I haven’t had crab legs in awhile.”

“I know the best place to get crab legs, too bad I can’t take you.” She said in a friendly way, only realizing it sounded a little different as she spoke it.

Before he could respond, a car pulled off on the shoulder behind them, sticking a hand out the window to wave them over. They walked toward it and she checked the license plate before they got in.

“Looks like two stops, is it?” The white-haired man asked, looking through the rear view at them.

“Yep, Main street and Bellview.” She agreed, obviously having to take the lead here.

“Bellview, haven’t been over to that slum in years.” The man said, making her quirk up an eyebrow as Jaehyun gave her a sideways glance, the comment feeling out of place.  Before they could respond, the man pulled out into the highway. He then accelerated at an alarming pace, causing her to grab the handle above the door and press herself back into the seats.

“Uh, you wanna slow down?” She asked, and the man tossed his head back and laughed, almost hysterically.

“This ain’t nothing sweetheart!” He hollered as he sped up more, coming up fast on cars and weaving in and out of lanes. She fell into Jaehyun on a hard right jerk and looked up at him, his eyes as wide and frightened as hers.

“What is going on?” He whispered to her, glancing back at the man to make sure he wasn’t listening.

“I think our Uber drive is insane.” She said pulling out her phone  and checking the app just to see his 2.3 rating.  “Cool. Cool cool cool.” She said under her breath as she started to panic a little. They still had a long way to go.

“Um, sir.” Jaehyun spoke up. “Could you please slow it down a little?”

Despite her fear she had to bite her lip to suppress her laugh at how calm and kind he sounded, like he didn’t want to inconvenience this raging lunatic.

“Hey, I’ll do as I please in my own damn car.” The man shouted back, then jerked the car for good measure, as if to warn them.

“What should we do?” Jaehyun leaned over as far as he could with his seat belt on to whisper.

She looked at her phone again. “He’s getting off the highway in a minute, the next light we hit, we’re jumping out.” She said as low as possible, tucking her phone away. She glanced at Jaehyun and saw his wide eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m not not dying in this car today, especially because your name is gonna be top news and I refuse to be second best in my own death.” She joked, trying to lighten the mood. He still looked worried, but he half-smiled at the comment.

The man almost sideswiped 3 cars getting on the off-ramp, a succession of honking drivers behind them as they sped off. There was a light ahead, it was green, but it could change. She discretely took off her seat belt and nodded at Jaehyun to do the same.

By some miracle the light turned red and the man slammed to a halt, almost throwing them into the front seat, but they were quick to react.

“Now, gogogo!”  She yelled, pushing Jaehyun toward the door and following him out the right side. They scrambled out of the door, almost falling onto the pavement in the process and scurrying out of the road to the bewilderment of the other vehicles sitting at the light. They could hear the man screaming after them, but his voice faded out as they found the sidewalk and ran.

They didn’t keep it up long, slowing to a walk and panting, looking back.

“You think he’ll follow us?” Jaehyun asked.

“No,” She breathed heavily, “I think we’re good.”

They took  a moment to collect themselves, pausing on the overpass. Jaehyun leaning against the railing to take a breather while she made sure she still had her purse. Luckily she did, but as she searched through it, something was missing.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asked as he noticed her digging through her bag.

“My phone,” She said frantically, checking the pockets over and over. “It’s not in here, it must’ve fallen out in the car.”

Jaehyun’s face fell and he ran his hand through his hair, looking back over the bridge.

“God dammit, I’m really sorry I just keep fucking up this day for you.” She forced a laugh, feeling like a total idiot.

“None of its your fault, just a weird series of events I guess, I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” He nodded, and reached over and pat her on the back. He paused for a moment, rubbing his hand over her shoulder in a comforting gesture before quickly taking it away. It was strange, but also made her blush.

“I kind of know where we are,” She suddenly cleared her throat to say, looking around. “I think if we keep walking this way we’ll hit a popular tourist street, maybe someone will let us use a phone.”

They started to trudge, taking it easy after the ordeal they’d just had. Jaehyun walked with his hands in his pockets, kicking his feet and taking in his surroundings. It was hot, and she walked with a hand to shield her eyes.

“Ah-ha! I knew it.” She said as they came up on the corner to a street lined with little shops and restaurants, and plenty of foot traffic. “Remember those crab legs I was telling you about?”

“Yeah?”

She gestured across the street to ‘Big Louie’s Cajun Crawdads”, Jimmy Buffet blaring through some speakers and patrons sitting on an outside patio enjoying seafood and beer.

“I don’t have much cash on me.” Jaehyun said, looking longingly at the restaurant. She nudged him with her elbow and started to walk.

“It’s on me, and it’ll give us a chance to figure out how we’re going to get you to the arena.”

Jaehyun followed her, and once there they were seated outside in the open air, but properly shielded from the sun. Despite all the craziness of the day, it was hard not to enjoy the perfect weather and anticipation of a delicious meal.

“I need a drink.” She spoke then, grabbing the drink menu, then chancing a glance at Jaehyun. “If that’s okay with you.”

“One should be okay,” He shrugged one shoulder, to her surprise ordering himself a beer when the waiter approached.

“I thought boybands had to be all wholesome and sweet.” She teased.

“Drinking is almost mandatory where I’m from, but you’re not wrong, there’s an image to uphold.”

“That must get stressful, unless you’re a goodie-goodie and it comes easily for you.”

He laughed, “I mean I’m not trying to get into anything too crazy, “ He said, “But it’d be nice to take a girl out every now and then. I don’t really have the time for that, and it would be difficult to do so without being seen.”

“You’re out with a girl right now.” She commented, then quickly tried to cover her tracks. “I mean it’s against your will, and you’d probably like to be out with a girl of your choosing, but-”

He cut her off with a good natured smile, “No, you’re right. I am out with a pretty girl, I should enjoy it.”

She stopped and swallowed hard, feeling it suddenly get very hot despite the outside breeze. They dropped the subject, but she could have sworn Jaehyun had a knowing look.

Their drinks and food came and they gorged themselves, barely pausing to talk. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, most of it probably from all the calories they’d burned through adrenaline alone, and she watched Jaehyun destroy his food and caught herself laughing a couple times at the way he shoveled it all in.

“Okay, you’re right,” He finally spoke after most of it had been consumed. “These are the best crab legs I’ve ever had.”

“I told you,” She grinned, feeling the beer warm her cheeks. “It’s the spices, you can’t beat their secret recipe.”

Sufficiently stuffed and slightly buzzed they relaxed for a moment, though in the back of their mind knowing it was getting late and they would have to get a move on. She caught Jaehyun peering into the restaurant at the dancefloor in front of the bar where people two-stepped to country music.

“I don’t suppose you do that type of dancing.” She chimed in, and he laughed.

“Not quite.”

“You could always try, for an authentic American experience.”

She was mostly joking, but was surprised when he went to stand and reached across the table for her hand.

“Only if you join me.”

He started to walk, tugging her along, and her eyes widened in panic.

“Uhh, I don’t really know how-”

“Good, me either” He turned back as he spoke and flashed a smile that made her relent.

Luckily the beer they’d had was big enough to rid her of some of her inhibitions. He pulled her into a waltz-like hold but they fumbled over their feet trying to find the steps the others were doing around them. A nice older couple even stopped to try and show them how, but Jaehyun stepped on her toes and they broke into a fit of laughter. He pulled her upright, determined to get it right, but still giggling like a child.

“I swear I’m a much better dancer usually.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You could always come to the show.”

“What, really?”

He swayed her gently.

“  mean it’s the least I could do. You could’ve abandoned me hours ago.”

“Yeah, I thought about it a couple times.” She said with a completely straight face, surprised that Jaehyun seemed to buy it for a moment.

“I’m kidding! Really it hasn’t been so bad hanging out with you.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Jaehyun leaned in and she nodded.

“This is the most fun I’ve had in months.”

He spoke so sincerely it made her feel funny, her stomach doing a little flip.

“Man, if you think this is fun you must not get out much.”

He laughed, “I’m serious, I haven’t felt this free in awhile, plus as much as I love the guys it can be tiring hanging out with the same dudes all the time. It’s nice to be around someone different, someone….softer, I guess?” He stopped and shook his head, clearly embarrassed and a little buzzed, “I mean, since you’re a lady and all it’s nice to be around-ah, I’m not explaining myself well.”

“I get it,” She interjected to help him out, only just now realizing how close they were, her chest pressed into his.

They hadn’t been paying attention and had slow-danced their way toward the edge of the bar, back by the bathrooms where it was a little darker and there weren’t any patrons. She looked up into his eyes fully and liked how they gleamed back at her.

“I’m thinking about asking you something,” He spoke up then, his voice taking on a serious tone. “I feel like I shouldn’t, but I also know I’m not going to get another opportunity after today,”

“Shoot,” She breathed, trying to remain casual.

“Can I kiss you?”

He was so earnest, staring down into her face, now standing still but holding her against him. He was strong and warm and she barely knew him but also felt like she had met him years ago. What could it hurt? Her inner voice asked her, and she found herself nodding, mouth agape and eyes wide.

He noted her confirmation but he was slow about it, leaning in and letting his eyelids drift closed. She kept hers open longer, wondering if he was actually going to do it or see if it was just a big joke. When his soft lips brushed over hers it became very real, and her own eyes fell shut as she tilted her chin and kissed him back.

It was tender and deliberate, and she couldn’t remember ever having been handled so preciously by a man, as one hand came up to cradle her head. It deepened faster than she expected, a hunger taking over. It was propelled by their fear and want, pushing them together in such strange circumstances and making them feel so safe together.

He got ahead of himself, pushing into her as she swayed back and connected with the wall behind her, but he followed and they didn’t stop. Now her hands moved up around his neck, pushing through his hair at the back of his head, bringing him down into her as one of his hands fell to her hips and pulled her back. She didn’t know what had gotten into either one of them, but she didn’t really feel like thinking about that right now.

Just as he was pressing her into the wall, ghosting his thumb up under her shirt and against her hip, someone cleared their throat.

They detached quickly and broke apart fully when they saw a burly, older man needing to get around them for the restroom. She wiped her wrist over her moistened mouth and hung her head as Jaehyun apologized and moved out of his way.

“We should find a phone.” She spoke up, and he agreed.

She went to the bar and at first they were reluctant, telling them that only employees could use the phone. She tried her best to explain the situation and the girl paused.

“Wait, what group?”

“NCT 127.”

“Are you serious? My little sister loves you guys.”

“Really?” Jahyun grinned and rubbed the back of his neck and she cast him a sideways glance, half-smiling at his sheepish response.

“She’s going to the show tonight, she’d kill me if I didn’t help you out.” She laughed, retrieving the wireless from the base and handing it over. “Hey, you think you could sign something for her?”

“Of course!’ Jaehyunn lit up, and she watched as he came around the bar and continued to chat with the woman, asking about her sister, seeming genuinely interested. After he signed a napkin and took a photo, doing so like it was second nature, he came back and she handed him the phone.

“Lets see if I can remember my manager’s number.” He laughed, staring at the buttons for a long time and trying a few out. It took about 4 or 5 tries but finally he remembered and got through.

The swiftness with which he switched to Korean startled her at first, but she sat and listened and liked how he spoke even when she couldn’t understand him.

He nodded his head and repeated himself as his face drew tight, and she didn’t have to know the language to understand that he was apologizing profusely. When they hung up, he sighed in relief.

“They’re sending a car for me.”

“This nightmare is finally over.” She said with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t call it a nightmare.”  He grinned, and she shrugged, her mind traveling back to what they had been doing a few minutes ago and feeling a blush creep up her neck.

They went outside to wait, chatting idly before a van pulled up.

“Well, have a good show.” She waved, and he furrowed his brow at her.

“You’re not coming with?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, you wanna see the show, right?” He grinned.

“Are you sure I’m allowed?” She asked, glancing at the impatient driver.

“Trust me, they’re not gonna mind after I tell them how you saved me today.” He said, nudging her arm to follow him into the back of the van. She hesitated, but decided now wasn't’ the time to be unsure.

They rode to the arena and parked in the back, going through a private entrance to the backstage. A couple people rushed over to him, speaking quickly as they walked with him as he kept up his pace, throwing her an encouraging smile as she came along.

“Bro, where the hell were you?” A male’s voice caught her attention as someone came out of a room to approach him, looking younger and maybe even annoyed.

“It’s a long story, you got my phone?”

He pulled something out of his back pocket and handed it over. “Hold your own stuff from now on.” He teased him, then glanced at her. Jaehyun followed his line of vision and then turned to introduce her as the girl who saved his hide, and he looked appreciative of her bringing his friend and bandmate back.

“This is Mark,”

“Ah, the Mark.” She said, thinking back to some of the stories Jaehyun had told over their conversations that day.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What's he been telling you? It’s all lies.” He said, reaching over and pushing Jaehyun.

“Good things!” Jaehyun laughed.

“Whatever, we have to get ready.” Mark gestured his head back to the dressing room. “Are you sticking around for the show?” Mark turned to her to ask.

“Uh, I guess so?”

“You should, we’re a lot better than Jaehyun probably let on.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jaehyun turned Mark around and pushed him toward the dressing room. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Mark went, but when he got to the dressing room door he decided to loudly exclaim, in both English and Korean, that Jaehyun had brought a girl back with him, prompting Jaehyun to sigh in exasperation and her to cover her mouth to conceal her laugh.

“I’ll get someone to find you a place where you can watch the show, if that’s cool?” He asked, placing a hand on her lower back.

She nodded and he went to talk to a female staff member who guided her to a box upstairs. She watched the fans filter in, mostly young girls but to her surprise ranging spectacularly in ages, race, and gender, all holding bulky green lightsticks and voices amplified with excitement.

When the lights went down and the cheers went up, she found herself blown away by the spectacle of it. There were a lot of them, and each one brought a unique voice and performance, but her eyes were mostly glued to Jaehyun. It was impossible not to watch him,  and be taken aback by how he’d transformed from everyday tourist to handsome popstar in a matter of an hour or so. His voice, the way he moved, everything about him was different and yet still him somehow, and it made her smile wide, clutching her hands to her chest. The feeling that welled up inside her worried her, it was so intense for having just been introduced to her mere hours before, but she rolled with it.

When it came to an end, she found herself wanting more, and a sliver of sadness crept its way in her heart as she knew this was probably the last time she was ever going to see him again. It shouldn’t make her so upset, she told herself, but she couldn’t help it.

To make things easier, she got up and left the way she came, heading for the back door and out into the back parking lot, realizing she still didn’t have a phone or a way home. She idled there for a moment as the street lights came on, kicking dirt and trying to figure out her feelings.

“Hey!”

A voice brought her back, and she turned to see Jaehyun jogging toward her.

“Did you like the show?” He asked, grinning ear to ear, dressed down but still glowing from sweat and excitement.

“It was amazing, really.” She nodded and smiled.

“Thanks.  Also, I know I already said it but thank you for everything today. I can’t believe we got here in one piece.” He laughed, “But I’m kind of glad it all happened.”

“Yeah?” She asked, tilting her head to one side.

“I’m glad I met you.” He nodded, then pulled out a piece of paper he’d had folded up in his pocket.

“Here, I wrote down my phone number, and if that one doesn’t work I have this other number. Oh, and here’s my private email if you wanna hit me up there. I hope you’ll text me sometime. Like...tonight or something.” He explained and she blinked at the paper, looking at how he’d carefully written down his information in detail.

Before she could respond, he pulled her into a hug and she could feel all his heat and affection, making her almost melt in his arms.

“I had a great time with you.” He spoke softly and she laughed off the awkward butterflies in her stomach.

“Me too.”