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im-fairly-whitty · 4 years

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The Witcher Wolf: In Plain Sight

Two years have passed since Geralt was cursed with the ability to turn into a wolf whenever his medallion is removed, a curse that's turned into a blessing now that he and Jaskier are partners in everything they do.

It's no exception when they discover a Nilfgaardian army bearing down on Cintra, headed straight toward a certain child surprise. With Jaskier's help and Geralt's enchanted medallion they must find a way to get into the palace, make sure Princess Cirilla is safe, and get out with her in tow if needed, regardless of Queen Calanthe's orders.

[Chapter 1: Into the Fire] [Chapter 2: Old Friend] [Chapter 3: Bad Luck] [Chapter 4: So Much for Being Smart] [Chapter 5: Secrets] [Chapter 6: The Beginning of the End] [Chapter 7: Out of Time]

Chapter 8: The End

Normally Jaskier actually wouldn’t have minded all that much if the guards posted outside his cell vanished. Normally it might have simply meant a shift change, or a lazy soldier nipping out to do some errands while still on the clock. Normally it might simply be evidence of an overconfident warden who couldn’t be bothered to cover all his prison’s work shifts.

But tonight wasn’t normal.

Even if Wihelm hadn’t filled Jasker in on the city’s looming disaster it would have been given away by hurried orders being shouted down the hallways an hour ago, evidently every armed man in the castle being called upstairs to fight.

Which must mean that the city really had fallen like Wilhelm had predicted, and that the last stand was happening at that very moment.

Which was why while normally Jaskier would be lazily clanging the bars of his cell and calling out if anyone was there after a full hour of being alone, he instead was now watching through the bars of his cell in silence, straining to hear the distant scraping and shuffling and yelling above. Because if he called out now like he normally would have, he had no way of knowing who exactly it would be that came down the steps to find him.

And judging by the several screams he’d heard in the last few minutes it seemed that the chances of it being someone employed by Wilhelm were becoming increasingly slim.

“Geralt, Geralt, Geralt please.” Jaskier muttered to himself. His knuckles white with how tightly he was gripping the bars of his cell.

He couldn’t help idly running his fingertips over the door’s lock despite having spent countless hours already trying to get it open with what few resources he had. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this cell until someone let him out.

Jaskier jolted as he heard a commotion in the distance followed by the thundering of heavy boots down the stairway accompanied by shouted snatches of Nilfgaardian echoing down the stone corridor.

He darted back from the cell door, pressing himself into the dark corner of his cell, heartbeat dangerously fast as his breathing became shallow and sweat broke out across his forehead. The enemy was here, in the castle. How many Cintrians had been killed for them to now be storming the dungeon of all places? Was Geralt dead? Surely Wilhelm was. Where was Cirilla?

“I don’t see any guards left down here, they really were using every scrap they had.” A voice said in Nilfgaardian with an ugly chuckle, making Jaskier jump with how close to the door of his cell it was.

“They left the keys and everything.” Said a second voice gleefully, accompanied by the jangling of what was doubtlessly said keys. “Why don’t we see what kinds they have locked up down here? See if there’s any enemies of the Eternal Flame who need purifying, I’m sure there are.”

Jaskier tried desperately to keep his breathing quiet, hoping against hope that they might skip his cell if it seemed like there wasn’t anyone inside.

He flinched as something thumped the door of his cell, the lock rattling.

“You realize we’re going to have to find the key to every ploughing door if we do.” Said the first voice to the clattering of metal, as if they were flipping through a large key ring.

“Try the fancy one.” The second voice suggested. “Fancy key for a fancy cell. Must have something really good inside, I bet-”

The voice cut off in a gurgling cry that Jaskier recognized as the sound of a sword being shoved through a throat, followed by a second yell that turned into a pained scream and a...sizzling? Jaskier’s heart rate rabbited as the acrid stench of seared skin reached his nose, making his stomach flip.

He held desperately still in the following moment of silence.

“Jaskier, it’s Wilhelm, I’m opening the cell and I’d appreciate it very much if you didn’t attack me as I let you out.” Wilhelm’s voice said.

“Well, if you insist.” Jaskier said, voice cracking in relief as his dread lessened somewhat. Relief that Wilhelm was still alive and had saved him from becoming a Nilfgaardian plaything, remaining dread that it wasn’t Geralt who had come for him.

He moved as the door swung open to reveal his old friend, looking far more tired but still more put together than Jaskier would have expected. In the spymaster’s hand was a sword with runes down the blade that glowed a fiery orange. He didn’t know how many men Wilhelm had to fight to reach him in the dungeon, but judging by the red bruise across his jaw and the blood Jaskier glimpsed on the spymaster’s teeth when he spoke it hadn’t been none.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone but a Witcher wield a sword with igni runestones in it before.” Jaskier said faintly, going easily into the half hug the man pulled him into.

“You learn a few things when you trade international secrets for a living.” Wilhelm said, releasing him after a moment of checking him over for harm. “Geralt and Ciri are meeting us at the back gates, he has the medallion and all your things.” He stooped to pull the sword from the hand of one of the fallen soldiers whose armor was still smoking slightly. “Take this. Keep at my back with your blade up and we have a chance of escaping if we keep to the servant’s passages.”

Jaskier swallowed as he hefted the unfamiliar weapon. The courtly sword training in his youth and subsequent years of adventuring with Geralt meant he was no stranger to the blade, even if he preferred leaving it to Geralt whenever he could. He’d do anything though if it meant getting back to his witcher.

“Lead the way.” Jaskier said, nodding and keeping right behind Wilhelm as they started up the stairway together, moving toward the smell of smoke and cries of the wounded and dying.

***

“Where are you and Geralt planning on taking the princess after this?” Wilhelm asked two long flights of stairs, three hallways, and three dead Nilfgaardians later.

He was panting lightly and whispering as the two of them crowded into the deep shadow of a nook, waiting for a squad of enemy soldiers to pass them in the hallway. The soldiers in the dungeon had evidently wandered from the main group as they’d had little trouble making their way through the castle at first, but the closer they got to the back gate the more they came across and in bigger numbers, forcing them to slow down and dive into hiding places for tortuous moments of bated breath waiting.

“Kaer Morhen.” Jaskier breathed back, barely even sure if Wilhelm could hear him over the clanking of metal shod boots on stone nearby. “It’s the old witcher keep in the Morhen mountains, Geralt winters there, it will be safe.”

“Good.” Wilhelm whispered back, his arm gripping Jaskier’s just a bit tighter as they heard the sound of something crashing in the far distance. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard stories. It’s a defensible position and one few people even know the existence of. You could lay low there the entire war and not be discovered if you played your cards right.”

“Wilhelm, how are we going to get to the back gate?” Jaskier asked, the churning in his gut all consuming now as he watched his friend pretending not to favor his side. He stole a careful glance around the corner before ducking back. “There’s a whole group of them in front of the stairs and they don’t look like they’re moving anytime soon.”

Wilhelm tipped his head back against the stone wall for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before opening his eyes and looking at Jaskier with a ghost of a smile. “I’ve got one last trick up my sleeve, seems like it’s finally time to use it.”

“What kind of trick is it exactly?” Jaskier whispered, unsure why he did not at all like the sound of it.

“Did I ever tell you my mother was a witch?” Wilhelm whispered back, rolling up his sleeves.

“If you ever did it was while we were both drunk enough to forget it immediately.” Jaskier said, now very concerned. “What does that have to do with us?”

“She specialized in fire magic.” Wilhelm said, his grip on his sword tightening. Jaskier’s eyes widened as thin lines of orange light crept down the spymaster’s arms, as if his veins were being filled with the same igni magic glowing from the runes of his sword. “I learned a few things from her, even if I never used them.” Wilhelm said, his whisper sounding rather thin as he gritted his teeth. “It’s how I can wield an igni blade without danger.”

“Wilhelm stop this immediately, it’s hurting you.” Jaskier snapped in panic, knowing firsthand how dangerous wielding unpracticed magic could be.

“Listen to me, I won’t have time to repeat myself.” Wilhelm said, suddenly intense as he locked eyes with Jaskier. In the close darkness of their hiding place Jaskier almost thought he could see sparks in the spymaster’s eyes as the temperature of the air around them began to climb steeply. “I promised your wolf I’d get you out and this is our only option left. I am going to rush the soldiers with as much power as I can summon and distract them away from the stairs. While they are distracted you are going to get past them, up the stairs, and through the final corridors to the back gates. There is no other option and no valid arguments you can give me because I’ve already started- ah.”

Wilhelm hissed, doubling over a bit as his grip on the sword became painfully tight, the chaos in his veins feeding into the sword which was now leaking bits of what looked like liquid flame onto the stone floor. Jaskier tried to move toward him but was buffeted back by a wave of fierce heat.

“I’ve already started summoning magic and I don’t actually know how to stop it,” Wilhelm said, rushing to get the words out and looking up at Jaskier with a painful wry grin. “Meaning that if you don’t do as I say immediately and escape when I give you the chance, then you will make my sacrifice in vain. And you wouldn’t want that would you?”

“You bastard.” Jaskier said, voice shaking as he realized how exactly Wilhelm had backed him into a corner, forcing him to accept his suicidal plan without chance for argument. A well-played checkmate if Jaskier ever saw one. “You’ll die, Wilhelm.”

“Quite likely. Truthfully I have no idea exactly what this will do to me, assuming I survive Nilfgaardian steel.” Wilhelm coughed, his smile showing the blood in his teeth. There were definitely sparks in his eyes now and the fiery light was creeping up the veins in his neck. “But a captain always goes down with his ship. You’ve got plenty of sailing left to do, make sure Princess Cirilla lives or all of this is in vain.”

There were too many things that Jaskier wanted to say in that moment, but there was no time to decide between them. He couldn’t even hug Wilhelm, who was now surrounded by the scent of scorched cloth. The spymaster nodded to him with one last smile, and then turned to step out of their hiding place and into the hallway, in plain sight of the group of soldiers.

“Hello you lot!” Wilhelm called, sounding almost cheerful as he raised his sword, which burst into flame, casting sharp flickering shadows all down the hallway. “Heard you like fire, care to try a bit of mine?”

For a moment--the moment when unbearable heat flooded the hallway, the moment that Nilfgaardian curses echoed through the air and the clank of armor erupted as all the troops within sight of Wilhelm charged him--Jaskier nearly froze. He nearly stayed pressed against the wall, watching in horror as his old friend gave himself over to a fiery chaos he barely understood in order to give him a fighting chance, a beacon of living flame that charged down the hallway to meet the soldiers head on.

But he didn’t, turning and running down the hallway now cleared of enemies, throwing himself up the stairway as he scrambled to reach the landing above them that would lead to escape.

“Give your wolf my regards!” Wilhelm’s voice echoed after him, followed by a roar of flame and the sickening ringing clash of steel on steel.

Every time Jaskier blinked he could see the after-image of Wilhelm burned into his vision, a ghostly image that slowly faded as he scrambled higher up the stone steps, unsure whether he was out of breath from fear or horror or grief as he climbed.

Because he couldn’t turn back, he couldn’t turn back or everything Wilhelm had done for them would be to waste. And so Jaskier crushed down his grief and fear under his adrenaline and ran down the hall once he reached the end of the stairs, forcing himself not to think at all as he pushed all his energy into moving instead.

He had to escape the palace, he had to get to the back gates, he had to get out of the city and pray that Geralt and Cirilla had somehow survived as well. And so he ran.

He ran, and ran and ran.

***

It must have only taken Jaskier a matter of minutes to scale the stairway and wind his way down a series of hallways that led to the back gate, but by the time he finally emerged into the night air he felt like he’d aged several years.

Geralt and the others were nowhere to be seen, which didn’t surprise Jaskier all too much despite the heavy pit it set in his stomach. With all the sneaking they’d had to do of course he’d missed the rendezvous, and if he’d been able to he would have commanded Geralt to get Cirilla to safety without him anyway had he known how bad things already were. This city was no place for a child.

It was no longer a place for anyone.

He adjusted his sweaty grip on his sword as he breathed in a lungful of the smoky midnight air, looking at the havok around him in what was left of the castle courtyard. Carts overturned. Dead horses and riders scattered across the grounds. The castle walls lit by the dreadful light of the flames beyond that seemed to be swallowing the city of Cintra whole.

He knew he should move, should already be ducked into the safety of shadow, but Jaskier felt pinned in place by the awful sight. By the sound and heat of the roaring flame as a city fell around him, the stench of death heavy in the air as screams, the shriek of metal on metal reverberated through the night.

And here he was, utterly alone and unarmored in the midst of it, with a stranger’s blade in his hand and no escape or friendly face to be found that hadn’t already been killed.

Cintra had fallen utterly into the hell of the eternal flame.

A group of Nilfgaardian soldiers came around the corner, spotting him immediately. Jaskier felt as though the breath had been knocked out of him as he dazedly saw the flickering light of the ablaze city glinting off their black winged helmets.

“Another sacrifice for the eternal flame!” One of the soldiers shouted with malicious glee, advancing on Jaskier, his companions moving to cut off all his chance of escape.

Jaskier gripped his sword with both hands as he heaved it up, already knowing he had no chance at all of defeating five men on his own, but already committed to putting up as much of a fight as he was able.

There was an unexpected strangled shout and Jaskier flinched as two of the men keeled forward, felled by a single sword stroke from behind. The other three spun to face their attacker, but a blade moving almost faster than the human eye could track dropped them all to the dirt in quick order, ending the fight before it even had the chance to begin.

The soldiers' fall revealed the panting Witcher standing behind them, his teeth bared in a snarl and his eyes utterly black with cat.

“Geralt!” Jaskier choked, dropping his sword to the dirt as he threw himself at the man.

Geralt caught Jaskier with one arm, holding onto him fiercely as the bard clung to him while still keeping his sword at the ready in his other hand. Jaskier felt an icy-hot shivery feeling pass over them as Geralt automatically draped a protective quen shield over them both, likely not even realizing he’d done it.

“Are you alright?” Geralt demanded, quickly pulling them deeper into the shadows of the battlement and out of sight of any more wandering soldiers. A protective growl underlined his words as the Witcher scented Jaskier, doubtlessly searching him for any pain or wounds underneath the thick scent of fear and relief that was sure to be there.

“Thanks to you.” Jaskier said shakily, burying his face against Geralt’s chest as a stray tear of relief escaped down his cheek. “Even I’ll admit that one against five isn’t a very fair fight after a week sitting on a cot. I-I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again, I thought you’d already gotten Ciri out of the city and-”

“I’m here now,” Geralt said, quickly kissing the top of Jaskier’s head while still keeping a wary eye on the mayhem of the courtyard beyond them. “I got Mousesack and Ciri out beyond the city wall before coming back for you. Where’s the spymaster? He said he’d meet us at the gate.”

“He...ah...well you see...” Jaskier’s voice kept breaking as he tried to explain, likely telling Geralt everything he needed to know.

“Let’s get out of this blasted city.” Geralt said, his voice softening just a bit as he took Jaskier’s hand in his, gripping it through his thick leather glove. “There’s nothing left here but monsters and ghosts.”

“Please let’s.” Jaskier said, taking a shaky breath and picking up his sword again.

“Stay close, stay quiet.” Geralt said. “We’re going to dart to that burning wagon, behind the stables there, and then it’s a straight shot to the back of the city. We’ll drop down into the sewers and it’ll spit us out on the other side of the wall into the forests where Roach is waiting. Ready?”

Jaskier squeezed his hand back in response, bits of ash settling on his dark hair and eyelashes.

“Then let’s move.” Geralt said.

He looked around one last time before pulling them into a low sprint through the burning wreckage that had once been the royal courtyard of Cintra.

***

Geralt was half carrying Jaskier by the time they finally reached the clearing two miles away from the city wall. The cat elixir had worn off sometime after they’d emerged from the sewers, returning the night to its muted dark colors around them rather than the harsh silvery shades the potion usually reduced the night to.

Geralt tried to set the panting bard down, but Jaskier refused to loosen his grip on the front of his shirt, trembling slightly as he fought for breath.

“We’re safe Jaskier, we’re out.” Geralt said quietly, letting his sword drop to the grass. “We need to keep moving soon but for now just breathe, alright love?”

He tugged off his stained leather gloves, dropping them by the sword and then running his hands up and down Jaskier’s back soothingly. He gently tucked his face into the crook of the bard’s neck, re-memorizing the familiar scent after days of its absence.

“Yes, y-yes.” Jaskier said, clearly trying very hard to get his breathing under control again as he shook. He wrapped his arms tightly around Geralt’s neck and buried his face in long silver hair. “And Cirilla? Is she safe?”

Geralt looked around the clearing, scenting the air. In the crisp quiet night the smell of a hard ridden horse passing through was easy to pick out, as was the trail of a worried man and a frightened girl. He brought two fingers to his mouth and gave a sharp blast of a whistle, letting the noise hang in the night air for a long minute.

He smiled as his Witcher hearing caught the faintest whinnying reply on the breeze from the west and he gave a quick second whistle to help Roach return to them from her days of solo wanderings. In a few minutes the mare would reappear and they could be on their way.

“They came through here very recently.” Geralt confirmed, feeling a weight lift from his chest. “And I don’t smell anyone else, meaning they’re safe and we’ll be able to catch up to them quickly enough when Roach gets to us.” Geralt looked back to Jaskier, tipping his chin up enough to kiss him softly. “We did it, we got her out, destiny was on our side. We’re going to be alright.”

The first kiss was soft, but the second was anything but as Jaskier wound his fingers into Geralt’s hair, chasing his kisses with a rising edge of desperation that made them both lose their breath again just when they’d gotten it back. Geralt carefully sat in the grass, pulling Jaskier down into his lap with him in an effort to get them both off their feet for what little time they could linger. He pulled his bard close against his chest as they kissed and touched, both reassuring themselves that the other was really there and in one piece after being apart.

“Don’t you ever wander off in a marketplace again.” Jaskier hissed between kisses, tears freely tracking down his face. “Had to sit alone in a stupid cell all week, it was dreadfully boring.”

“I thought I was going to go mad not knowing where you were.” Geralt hummed, softly biting at Jaskier’s lower lip. “The one time I caught a whiff of your scent off the spymaster, Mousesack had to pull me back from ripping two guards’ throats out trying to follow it. You seem healthy, you were treated alright?”

“Wilhelm is...was....we’ve been friends a long time.” Jaskier said, a shadow passing over his face as he squeezed his eyes shut against his tears.

Geralt grimaced and tucked him closer to his chest, deciding not to ask him to speak of whatever it was that had happened until he was ready. Geralt might have hated the spymaster for what he’d done to help Queen Calanthe delay their escape, but clearly Jaskier didn’t feel the same about the man.

“I think I’m going to need a holiday after this.” Jaskier said quietly, letting Geralt hold him. “Let’s not do something like this again for a long, long time Geralt.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight for at least a year.” Geralt promised, rubbing Jaskier’s back again. “We’ll catch up to Ciri and Mousesack and then it’s straight to Kaer Morhen. Once we reach the mountains we’ll be safe, we can rest there. We can plan what to do with Ciri now that...well, now that we have her.”

“I never did think I’d be a father.” Jaskier chuckled weakly, wiping at his eyes. “I suppose we aren’t the first parents to ever have a child unexpectedly though, we’ll manage. I’m very much looking forward to meeting your family and seeing your keep after hearing about it for two decades, even if I plan on sleeping for an entire month once we arrive.”

“Now that’s a plan I can get behind.” Geralt said, looking up as a familiar mare made her way into the clearing, nickering at the sight of them. He kissed Jaskier’s forehead, brushing his thumbs across his cheekbones. “We’re going to be riding hard so get whatever you need in or out of the packs while I saddle Roach.”

Jaskier kissed the corner of Geralt’s mouth before reluctantly letting him stand. He looked up as Geralt moved to their stashed things and started shifting away the dead branches that had been hiding their packs for the last few days.

“You haven’t been back home since the medallion curse, have you Geralt?” Jaskier asked. “That’s what, two years now? Have you told any of your family about it?”

“I haven’t.” Geralt said, frowning as he hefted Roach’s saddle, brushing twigs off before he set it on the mare’s back. “Haven’t seen Eskel or Lambert or Vesemir in ages and it never seemed like the kind of thing to write in a letter. Not when we were still getting used to it ourselves.”

“So it’s only us that know about it still?” Jaskier asked. “Well, Wilhelm knows...knew...if he helped you change back.”

“Ciri and Mousesack both know.” Geralt said, pulling Roach’s bridle over her head and strapping it into place once he’d finished with the saddle. “Ciri should know, that was always going to happen if we got her. Mousesack sniffed me out the instant we saw each other, and he was able to help me this week because of it.”

“Well it’ll make traveling easier without trying to hide that from the others.” Jaskier nodded, pushing himself to his feet as Geralt finished the saddling. “Do you think anyone knows the princess escaped?”

“There will be no way of knowing until they catch up with us.” Geralt said grimly, handing Jaskier a water canteen. “Which is why we have to assume the worst and keep moving. Roach is fresh, if we ride hard we can catch up to the others and keep to the wilderness until we reach the mountains. This is everything, are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be.” Jaskier said, wiping his mouth as he handed the canteen back to Geralt. He gave the Witcher a tired little smile as he took his face in his hands and gave Geralt a soft kiss. “I’m so happy to see you again, darling, you have no idea.”

Geralt stole a second kiss with a smile, nuzzling the side of Jaskier’s head. “The sooner we get to the keep, the sooner I can really show you how much I missed you.”

“Then by all means let’s get moving.” Jaskier said with the closest thing to a grin that he could muster, heaving himself up into Roach’s saddle.

Geralt tested a couple last straps on the saddle bag before pulling himself up into the saddle behind Jaskier. Despite everything, he felt a sense of relief simply at having the warmth of Jaskier’s back against his chest again.

The road to Kaher Morhen was always a dangerous one, it would have even more perils with the empire searching for their scent, but at least they’d survived this particular night of horrors and were on their way to safety.

He took the reins and pushed Roach into a trot with a click of his tongue, steering them away from Cintra, into the night, and after the scent of their child surprise ahead of them.

He shifted to hold the reins in one hand, wrapping his other arm securely around Jaskier.

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

*Five minutes later* "GERALT I FORGOT MY LUTE WE HAVE TO GO BACK."

Good thing Mousesack got it so Geralt doesn't have to wrestle his bard back onto Roach, lutes aren't cheap you know.

***

Thank you so much for reading this installment of the Witcher Wolf series! Do I have plans to write more I hear you ask, (some of you have in fact asked) and the answer is yes I think so, because I am a helpless slave to my uncontrollable creative whims!

As you may recall this installment was the result of me asking if you the readers had any witcher wolf prompts, in response to which I received a slew of excellent prompts and suggestions. The idea was to take a few at a time and roll them into charming little drabbles and oneshots, so of course I instead went ahead and wrote an eight chapter fic based on one prompt instead.

That said I do love the other prompts in my inbox and have two more installments in mind for them combining most of them. One I think will be another multichapter about the crew's journey to Kaer Morhen, settling into the keep with the other witchers, and meeting up with Yennifer. Much soft good family times in that one. The second is a tense oneshot that I might end up writing in the middle of the softer one since I just finished off a heavier angst story.

That's the tentative plan, but again we all know I'm riding a creative chariot pulled by squirrels, so all bets are off regarding where I actually end up at the end of the day.

TL;DR - Thanks for reading, this series will continue in some form though as always there are no exact guarantees on when or what, so stay tuned! Thank you all so much for your lovely comments as they are what feed my creativity and motivation!

#the witcher #geralt #jaskier #geraskier #the witcher wolf #my writing #wit writes

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amydancepants-peralta · 5 years

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sweater weather

Surprise, Kasia @kamekamelea! I am your writer for @b99fandomevents Fall Fic Exchange ... and I’ve rolled with your prompt of adapting the lyrics of Sweater Weather, by The Neighbourhood. I really, really hope you enjoy!

sweater weather (also on AO3)

Jake’s hands tap impatiently along the edge of his car’s steering wheel as he makes his way downtown, his eyes turning to the clock on the dashboard at regular intervals. The roads are relatively quiet, and staring at the numbers one more time, his foot presses a little harder on the accelerator.

He was running a little late, because he always was, but this time Jake had the legitimacy of a work-related issue up his sleeve. The perp that he and Boyle had been building up a case on had, in a moment of what the criminal Kaminski called weakness, but Jake and Charles called stupidity, decided to rob the bodega around the corner from their precinct, in the middle of the day. There had been so many credible eye-witnesses, most of whom worked within the nine-nine, that compiling statements had taken much longer than either of them had anticipated. So much so, that time completely ran away from Jake, and if he hadn’t glanced at his watch half an hour ago, his tardiness could have been a lot worse.

This afternoon was another Santiago family gathering - this time to celebrate Amy’s niece Mariela, who was turning seven. Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away, and he and Amy were hosting the family meal this year - their first time hosting together as husband and wife. There were notes and binders and recipes on every surface of their apartment, all in aid of Amy’s carefully scheduled preparation of the meal, and he would move hell and high water to make sure nothing about this year’s gathering would end in disaster.

A smile begins to appear on Jake’s face as he thinks about his wife - about the woman that not so long ago would have appeared way out of his league. There was a time when Thanksgiving - hell, all of the holidays, really - represented nothing but just another reminder of everything he didn’t have. But now, with Amy, he had a family. And what’s more, he had hope.

The sun catches his wedding ring when he swivels the car into park and he fiddles with the band, ring twisting as he checks his appearance quickly in the rearview mirror. Even after all these years, he still wanted to look his best for his in-laws - and being late and unkempt would only set him back from the recovery he’d made since the evening of ‘and another thing’. Adjusting the collar of the sweater he’d thrown on back at the precinct, Jake gives his reflection a quick shrug, locking up and heading towards the party.

There was a slight downwards slope in the park the Santiagos had chosen for their festivities, giving Jake a vantage point as he approached. The sound of fallen leaves crunching underneath his sneakers was soon drowned out by the contagious squeals of children playing, familiar voices calling out ‘Tag, you’re it!’ as they race around the playground attached to the picnic area. He spots Amy quickly, her smile standing out amongst the other adults as she pushes one of her nephews on a swing, and Jake feels tiny butterflies begin to hatch in his stomach at the sight. One day, someday soon, that might be Amy with a child of their own.

Seventeen weeks and one day ago, he and Amy had been at Shaw’s, enjoying some post-work drinks - which in itself was nothing particularly momentous. And to this day he can’t explain it, but one minute he was at the bar ordering drinks for himself and his wife, and the next minute he was turning around, watching her laugh with friends, and he knew.

That it was time. For them to start trying - to actively attempt to start a family of their own. It was as non-sensical as a crossword puzzle leaning him towards marriage, but this epiphany was as strong as the last. He’d pulled her from the bar less than an hour later, waiting until they were in the comfort of the four walls of their home before telling her how he felt. Her smile could have lit up the night sky, and by the same time the next day, there was a carefully laid out binder taking pride of place on the desk in their bedroom.

And sure - there was definitely an added bonus to Mega Organised Sexy Times, if only for it’s guaranteed increase in regularity (not that there was ever any problem in that department). But there was more to it than that. There had always been love between them - even in their most passionate moments, it was still about making love. Now, there was this added sense of anticipation - that maybe this time would be the right time, and that soon their family of two would become three. He’d be lying if he said that his fears had gone away completely - but he knew, more than anything, that this was his chance to fight away his doubts. Break the cycle, and prove to himself - and anybody that cared to listen - that he was not his father.

As he nears closer Amy looks up from her nephew, face lighting up in a bright smile when she notices his arrival. She’s wearing the same dress she wore to the moonlight cinema last month (the selfie of them at sunset still holding prime position as his lock screen), covered in a denim jacket he’s seen a hundred times before, but she still manages to surprise him with her beauty. And he hopes that his heart never fails to skip a beat like it has right now, as she relegates Swing Pushing duty to somebody else before heading in Jake’s direction.

It occurs to him as he slows down his pace, meeting her halfway, that he had always loved the idea of holding the world within the palm of his hand, but nobody could ever have told him that the world would one day come in the shape of just one person.

Amy leans in for a kiss when she’s finally in front of him, wrinkling her nose when she pulls away, and he knows its because of the Pumpkin Spice latte he had earlier at work. Jake loved the drink, and she decidedly did not, and the first time he’d had it after they had started dating, it had led to her instigating a Total Kiss Ban. It had lasted a total of three hours. The compromise, as so declared that day, was a compulsory follow-up mint, and he pats the empty pocket of his jacket in way of apology.

The wrinkled nose smooths and she gives him an affectionate eye roll, one hand moving from his neck to his shoulder. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“No place I’d rather be, babe. I’m sorry time ran away from me, though.”

Her hair swings with the breeze as she shakes her head. “I heard about Kaminski from one of my officers. Hard to believe he could have been so brazen.”

“Idiotic is the word I prefer to use.”

She giggles, and no matter how many times he hears it, he still feels a flush of pride run through him. “Same, same.” she responds with a smile.

He’s about to ask her how everything was going when nine-year-old Mason comes running up to them, the dirt smeared across his face doing nothing to conceal his smile. “Tio Jake, Tio Jake! You gotta come see this fort me and Josh made!”

“A fort? Heck yeah, I gotta see this!” Jake feels Amy’s hand slide down his arm with a quick squeeze as he follows Mason towards the pre-built picnic table area, where an obvious extension fortified by spare chairs and blankets had been created. There’s a sense of fulfilment that runs through him whenever he gets called Tio Jake - for the longest time, he had been certain that he would never been anybody’s Tio. And honestly, he’s never been happier to be proven wrong.

His hand lifts one of the layers of the fort (only a Santiago gathering in at outside space could result in such an abundance of blankets), eyes widening at the contents inside - action figures! there are SO many action figures in here! - and he turns to Mason with a grin. “This is awesome!”

“Yah-huh!” He nods in agreement, grabbing Jake by the hand and pulling him into the fort with little regard for the height difference between Jake and the roof’s structure. Quickly, Jake ducks to his knees, desperate to avoid anything that could compromise the integrity of such great craftsmanship.

It’s another half hour before Mason and three other Santiago children Jake had been playing with are called away from the fort, tiny legs racing towards the central table at the promise of pumpkin pie. Retreating from the fort, Jake talks to David briefly, trying his best not to notice the perfectly grown moustache Amy’s brother had begun to grow in support of Movember, simultaneously squashing any secret plans he had to try and grow his own. Despite Amy’s not-so-secret love for them, there’s no way he could cultivate such a look (besides, the undercover department of the NYPD actually had some perfectly acceptable fakes that were readily at his disposal).

Amy rescues him shortly after, deftly brushing off conversation of David’s upcoming Captain exam by telling him that their mother needed him for a specific duty. He departs in a haste, and she winks at Jake as he leaves, whispering that no such job exists, but she could tell that he’d had his fill of David for the day. She drops a chaste kiss to his lips, and Jake knew that she loved that he wasn’t the biggest fan of David’s, purely because she wasn’t.

A cool breeze cuts through the surrounding trees, their limbs bending to submission while the once swept-up leaves begin to break free of their piles, and Amy shivers slightly. Instinctively Jake wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer and smiling as she eagerly snuggles her head into his chest. Her face burrows into the fabric of his sweater, chest expanding as she breathes him in, and Jake’s smile grows bigger at the sight. He can still remember their first night together, how amazing she looked with her head against his pillow, the tiniest of smiles on her face as she mumbled that it smelled of him. He knew he was a goner then, and he still is now.

Amy lifts her head, blushing when she realises she’s been caught out, and Jake throws her a wink, tightening his grip around her shoulders. This was his favourite time of the year, the cooler air inviting snuggles at all hours of the day. Lazy sleep-ins wrapped up together encouraged - if not demanded - by his drowsy wife. Hot chocolates on the regular, extra marshmallows floating along the top of his mug without prompting.

The idea that someone like him could have moments like those for the rest of his life, still seemed crazy. But Amy was the only person Jake could imagine building a life with.

There had been a lot of opportunities, over the past few years, to worry about what was to come. Speed-bumps that had been thrown at them by the universe: tests that came in multiple forms, all with the same purpose of pointing out what they already knew - that no matter what happened, Jake and Amy would always have each other.

He’d spent countless hours with his toes digging into the sand of the beaches of Florida, back turned from the world he refused to an active part of. Kept his eyes trained on the coastline, forever wishing that a way to walk on water would present itself on command. If there was ever a chance to walk away and start all over again, it was in that overheated state with it’s ridiculously cold pizza. But whenever Jake felt at his lowest, his mind would turn to Amy, and how he knew she would be working on solving their case right at that very moment, and the memory of her smile - the one reserved for solving the most frustrating of puzzles - became his calm in the storm.

And so he waited, for six long months. And she never left his mind for a minute.

The brick walls of the prison cell that made up his home for eight weeks had been cool to the touch, the bricks just porous enough for Jake to be able to feel the anguish cries of previous residents whenever his hands rested against them. This time, he had two photos of Amy to keep him centred, positioned by his side just as she would have been at home, and by the time his freedom had been restored he had committed to memory every single pixel. And then, by the grace of all that is good, the real thing was standing in front of him in Shaw’s, offering to buy a free man a drink, and he knew that their forever needed to start as soon as possible.

And now, they were on the cusp of starting life’s biggest adventure together. There was so much left unknown about what their future could bring - one child, or many (although Amy drew the line at replicating her and her seven brothers). Perhaps they would raise a family of crime-fighting geniuses - the perfect combination of his determination and her brilliant mind forging an unstoppable team of protectors of justice. Or maybe they would be creators - dancers, chefs, singers and writers … all or none of the above, there was one thing that Jake knew that they would be. And that was happy.

Moving behind Amy, Jake takes advantage of their height difference by wrapping his arms around her, pulling her back closer to his chest as they stand together, watching the Santiago cousins retreat from their parents and return to playtime. Amy’s hands are quick to rest against his, and even quicker to retreat under the cuffs of his sweater, soft fingers brushing against his skin, seeking warmth. He lets out a soft chuckle, burying his nose into her hair as she squeezes her hands around each forearm, and his grip tightens ever so slightly.

Perhaps if he had known while in that strange Floridian universe where ATVs were standard modes of transportation and his hair represented a porcupine; that afternoons like this were waiting for him in the not too distant future, he would have tried a little harder to play the role of Larry Sherbert. Or maybe he would have jumped onto the next flight to New York, Figgis be damned, denying the universe any chance to keep them apart when together was so much better.

There are just some things he’ll never really know for sure. His future with Amy was not one of them.

Her thumb begins tracing patterns along the edge of Jake’s arm, and Amy’s touch brings Jake’s head back out from the clouds, focusing on the present as he hums in contentment.

“It’s a pretty great view, isn’t it?” Amy asks, the smile on her face growing as she watches her niece Amelia tackle an unsuspecting Mason from behind.

Jake cranes his neck, watching his wife watch the children play, and her smile makes his. “The best,” he replies, and the tone in his voice makes her turn slightly until their eyes meet. Her face turns red as she blushes, one hand sneaking out from underneath his sleeves, pulling on the zipped edge of his jacket until they join in the middle for a gentle kiss.

She sighs softly as they part, hand quickly returning to it’s original position as Jake rests his head against Amy’s. They’re silent for a long moment, before his wife breaks the silence.

“You want to go back down to the fort, don’t you?”

His lips twist into a grin. “I really do.”

She laughs, the sound of her giggles vibrating through to Jake’s chest as she pulls away from their cuddle. “Go on, then!”

“You’re the best Ames, iloveyousomuchokaybyeee!” His hands squeeze hers quickly as they part, throwing her his happiest smile as he runs back towards Fort Santiago.

* * * *

Amy watches with a contented smile as her husband chases her nieces and nephews around the park, their excited screams bubbling into laughter as they near the now impressively large fort. There were a lot of things for her to be thankful for this coming Thanksgiving, but having Jake in her life was always going to be the top of her list.

She flicks the inside of her wrist slightly, eyeing off the time displayed on her watch’s face, and begins to plan their polite exit within the hour. This afternoon had been great, and time with her family was always important, but her period was five days late and there were nine different brands of pregnancy tests burning a hole in her purse. She wanted to go home, sit with her husband on the floor of their bathroom, and find out together if all the things they had been dreaming for were finally about to come true.

She’d never been one for big adventures, until Jake had stumbled into her life, and now she can’t think of anything greater. Because with him by her side, she could take on anything.

The two of them were about to become three - she could feel it in her heart of hearts - and Amy couldn’t wait for their adventure to begin.

#phew #so glad I made it before the deadline #my writing #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #b99 fic #peraltiago fanfiction #b99 fics #peraltiago fluff #TRYING #fall goodness #b99fic #jake x amy fic

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twisted-tales-of-all · 5 years

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Rogue Resurrection

Kwon Jiyong x Reader

Sequel to “Disaster Date” and requested by @40-degrees-farenheit

Summary: You try to get over your boyfriend’s recent death, but his sister delivers a package for you from him, sending you into chaos.

Word Count: ~1.6K

Warnings: coping with death, taboo/dark/black magic; it’s sad if that’s not obvious

A/N: I finished this a week ago (I think?) but my life has been bad so I haven’t been able to type it up and post it until now. The other requests will also probably take forever. Sorry.

On Tuesday, you find yourself back at his resting place. You sit there, staring at his pictures and the urn. You examine all the flowers, the never-ending gifts sent in by fans.

"I'm sorry, Jiyong. This is my fault. I hate that our Tuesdays have turned into this."

After a few hours, you pack up and leave, taking one final look at his immortalized smile. You don't know what to do with yourself. You still haven't returned to work since the incident. As you slowly make your way back to your quiet apartment, your phone rings. You stop and sigh, no longer able to multitask even the simple things like walking and talking on the phone. Checking, you almost break down as you see the caller ID, but compose yourself.

"Hello, Dami. How are you?"

"About as bad as you, I'd assume. We cleaned out some of his things and found something marked to give to you. Should I bring it over?"

"Sure. I'm on my way home now. I should be there before you."

"Oh, it's Tuesday, isn't it? I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. Things will eventually be okay." You say the last sentence through clenched teeth, not believing the statement in the slightest.

Finally making it home, you wait in silence for Dami to arrive with whatever she found. You don't even allow yourself to think about the possibilities, as your thoughts would be too loud for your preference. Once she arrives, you let her in with the cardboard box in her hands. Instructing her to set it down on the table, you question her about the contents.

"I don't know. It's sealed and addressed to you." She points to your name on the package, handwritten in his distinct print. "I know he wrote this, but I don't know what it could be. The date he wrote is next week, so I figured he wanted to give it to you then."

You just stare at the box in silence. Dami excuses herself, claiming to need to get back to her son. You walk her out then resume your gaze on the box. Seeing his handwriting for your name and the date makes you momentarily forget his death. You can't help yourself and open the box. Inside, you find a couple seemingly unrelated items: a pair of shoes, a clothesline, and a ring. Along with the items sits a handwritten note:

I know you'll open this before the date, but make sure to use all these things together on Tuesday, okay? Don't worry about me. I'll be there in time. We'll do your laundry together. I'm sure you haven't since there's too much going on. This will be date night, okay? You better not leave me hanging. (Like my joke~?)

You read and reread the note. You can't process it. Questioning whether or not to follow instructions, you confuse yourself even more.

Did he know? Or was this meant before he died? There's no way he can show up. He couldn't have predicted his death. He would've tried to avoid it if he knew. But why would he prepare this instead of just giving it to me? None of this makes sense.

Throwing the items back into the box, you push the box and your thoughts away, sweeping everything under the bed. You grab a bottle of your favorite alcohol -- you've had plenty in this past week, but you keep your supply up since you don't know how else to clear your mind. Heading to your room, you turn on the TV and take a drink straight from the bottle.

You laugh at yourself, "He'd scold me if he was here." Then, you shake your head to get rid of the thought, taking another drink.

After a while, you unknowingly fall asleep.

The week drags on again. Finally reaching Monday night, you find yourself sitting in the bathtub with the shower beating down on you. Suddenly, you remember the box and its contents. Curling into yourself even more, your thoughts flood your mind again. You still can't decide whether to follow the instructions or not. You sit there contemplating for long enough for the day to roll over to the next, although you wouldn't have noticed without the nearby church bells going off to signal 12 AM.

After a bit longer, you force yourself up and out of the tub. Half in frustration, you drag the box from its hiding spot and throw it to the area where you usually do laundry, deciding to follow through. Even though you know that he can't show up, your loyalty to him wins out. Plus, you'll need to wash clothes either way, so it can't hurt to use the new gifts.

When the sun starts rising, you gather the large amount of dirty clothes and pile them in the proper area. You prepare everything: gather the necessities, prep and start the washer, hang the clothesline. When you hear the washer alert you that the clothes finish, you slip on the shoes, gather the wet clothes in the basket, and slip on the ring before starting to hang everything up on your balcony.

As usual, you start with the bigger items. You shake out your bed sheet of excess water and throw it over the clothesline. Suddenly, it feels like someone helps you to adjust it properly from the other side. Poking your head around to check, you stumble backwards after seeing Jiyong's form on the other side. Knowing your reaction, however, he catches you before you fall over entirely.

"Hey, love. Told you I'd come. Why did I still scare you?" His sweet laugh at your expense makes you tear up. You haven't heard his voice, felt his warmth, or seen his laughing face in two weeks, but it feels like years. And you thought you'd never be able to feel it again.

You throw yourself at him, enveloping him in a tight him as you cry into his chest. His warm hug only makes you cry more, so he silently rubs your back to help you release everything. After you regain your composure, questions flood out of your lips.

"How did you get here? Did you know you'd die? Why didn't you avoid it? How can I see and touch you again when we cremated your body? You aren't a figment of my imagination, right?"

"Hey, hey. Calm down, Y/N. One question at a time. No, I'm not a figment of your imagination. Uhhhh... No, I didn't know I'd die, but a fortune teller told me to give you those items on the date on the package."

"Did they give you more information about it?"

"Lemme think... I remember him mentioning something about five years, but I really can't remember if it was even related to this. But let's not waste time worrying about it, okay?"

You agree and the two of you chat until the clothes dry. Your boyfriend disappears with the water. As sad as his disappearance makes you, you vow to wash clothes weekly, hoping for more chances with him. Despite being confined to your porch, you look forward to the dates just as much as, if not more than, before. You definitely treasure your time with him much more, keeping the thought of an unknown time limit in the back of your mind. You spend the next few months washing any clothes you need to on Tuesday every single week.

After about 15 weeks, you start noticing something about him and about yourself. He hasn't mentioned anything about events he normally would. His sister's birthday passes by without any mention of it. You also notice yourself falling deeper in reliance of these meetings with him. You've skipped out on after-work drinks multiple times - something you'd never normally do, even on date nights.

"Jiyong, do you know the day and time anymore?"

"Of course. I know it's Tuesday. I also know it should be around 3 PM."

"No. The date. Would you be able to tell me the date if I asked?"

"Oh. No, I can't. I assume it's probably August. Seems like monsoon season based on the humidity and the smell. Why?"

"I was shocked when you didn't ask about Dami's birthday when it passed a few weeks ago."

You stare at his form, watching his face crinkle up as he tries to recall the name in failure, "Dami's birthday? Why would I ask? Your birthday hasn't passed, right? That's all that matters to me."

His statement horrifies you. Not only has he clearly forgotten his own sister - he doesn't even care. That isn't like him at all. You play along until he disappears for the week, then curl up on your bed, wondering who the appearance really is.

You refuse to use the objects he gave you when you instinctively wash your clothes the next week. Using the extra time that you aren't wasting with the appearance, you visit him resting site only to find graffiti on the glass in front of his urn, most of it aimed at you for "getting over his death" so quickly. A picture of you on your porch peaks through a bouquet of flowers. Taking it, you see the figure you believed to be your boyfriend.

In the picture, you clearly see someone different; someone completely unknown to you sits next to your smiling form, staring directly at the camera with a devilish grin.

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missmentelle · 6 years

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Red Flags vs. Pink Flags

A lot of people talk about the importance of spotting “red flags” early on in a relationship. “Red flags” are small behaviours, quirks and traits that act as warning signs for bigger problems down the road - spotting red flags in a new dating partner can be a sign that it might be wise to end the relationship and look for a less problematic partner.

But for all the talk of the importance of “red flags”, it can be really difficult to find good discussions of which behaviours are actually red flags, and which ones aren’t. Many people mix in red flags that are personal to them (”doesn’t like cats”, “is too religious”) with red flags that are pretty much universal (”doesn’t respect boundaries”). Some lists include behaviours that only happen after things have gone way too far, like physical violence or stalking - these aren’t warning signs, they’re straight-up problem behaviours that red flags are meant to help you avoid. Other lists can seem to be too harsh, and call for you to abandon a relationship over behaviours that might have a reasonable explanation - these are behaviours I prefer to think of as “pink flags”, since they don’t necessarily spell disaster.

No one is ever going to create a perfect list that perfectly sorts and captures all red flags and pink flags, but there are a couple of major ones that people should know about. If you’re dating someone and there are some things about your partner that are making you uneasy, knowing whether those warning signs are “red flags” or “pink flags” can help you decide how to proceed. Red Flags (almost always a bad sign, and cause for concern):

They are infatuated with you to the point of obsession. It can be really flattering to have someone tell you that you’re literally perfect and their ideal soulmate and even more amazing than they ever dared to dream. The problem, though, is that this is often a sign that someone has put you up on a pedestal, and that they are dating their own idealized, fictional version of you, rather than the real you. Obsession is often a gateway to unhealthy, irrational jealousy, as well as the real possibility that they will lash out at you every time you deviate from the perfect image of you that they’ve built up in their heads.

They want to rush the relationship. Our culture really likes this romantic idea of people “just knowing” when they’re met the one, and skipping immediately to marriage, kids and happily ever after. In reality though, a person who calls you their soulmate and asks you to move in three weeks after your first date is probably leaning more toward “obsession” than affection, and this is probably not the first time they’ve done this with a new partner. Some people fall into a pattern where they rush headlong into commitment with new partner after new partner - that’s not a pattern you want to be a part of.

They never miss an opportunity to trash their ex-partners. People have bad ex-partners sometimes. It happens. Having a bad ex is not a reason to avoid someone. Constantly bashing their exes, however, is a bad sign. A person who feels the need to constantly talk about what a piece of shit their ex is probably still has a lot of unresolved feelings about the relationship, and and they more than likely don’t have the ability to take responsibility for whatever part they played in the relationship’s demise. If someone insists that every single one of their exes is a crazy lunatic, it might be time to consider the common denomination - them.

You never know where you stand with them. One day, your new beau is attentive, loving and the picture of devotion... then for the next three days, they’re distant and disinterested. Then, without explanation, they’re back to being devoted to you. This kind of behaviour is a huge red flag, especially once you’re past the first couple of dates - it’s a sign that someone is stringing you along for their own gain, or that they’re into playing mind games. In healthy relationships, both parties try to constantly signal interest.

They are quick to use guilt as a weapon. Someone who constantly responds to small slights by heaping guilt on you is not going to stop that behaviour anytime soon - it’s only going to escalate over time. If you can’t go out with your friends without getting a “I thought I was the most important thing to you, but I guess not... it’s fine, I’ll just sit here by myself....” text, that’s a bad sign. This person is not interested in having reasonable, adult conversations about their feelings - they’d rather be manipulative.

Their moods and reactions are extremely unpredictable. One moment, they shrug it off when someone cuts them off in traffic, and the next moment, they are beside themselves with rage when the barista messes up their coffee order. This kind of unpredictability can be a sign that they have uncontrolled anger problems, and it’s only a matter of time before their partner is on the receiving end of those issues.

They are excessively secretive. It’s normal not to spill all of your deepest secrets on a first date, but as a relationship progresses, it’s healthy for both partners to gradually disclose more information to each other. A person who goes out of their way to pretend that they don’t have a past is probably not someone you want to keep around - they might be guarding a dealbreaking secret (like the fact that they are already married, or that they have lied about much of what they’ve told you), they might not want to get too invested in you, or they might have serious trust issues. No matter what the explanation, it’s a problem.

They insist that the relationship be a secret, even if you don’t want it to be. It’s not unreasonable to expect the person you are dating to admit that they are dating you. A person who refuses to do that is probably up to no good - again, they might have another partner that they are hiding you from, they might not be as serious about you as they are leading you to believe, or they might intentionally want to make you feel like they are ashamed of you.

They have no life skills, and no obvious intention of learning any. Not everyone is a natural-born chef, and it’s okay to occasionally struggle with things like figuring out which garments can go in the wash together, or finding the best way to load a dishwasher. What’s not okay is taking pride in living in your own filth, and having no intention of ever learning how to be a functional adult. This kind of person will be inclined to treat you as more of a surrogate parent than a partner, and a long-term relationship will mean either picking up after them or living alongside them in their filth.

They have no goals or ambitions. This doesn’t mean “they don’t make a lot of money” or “they aren’t career-oriented” - a person who works a low-paying job or isn’t very invested in their career might be very invested in the idea of raising children, learning new things, pursuing their hobbies, travelling, improving as an artist, volunteering in their community, etc, and they can make a wonderful partner. Not everyone wants a workaholic partner. On the other hand, a person who has no passion or drive in life, for anything, is a huge red flag - that person is likely going to expect the relationship to cover all of their needs in life, and tension is bound to arise when you want to grow as a person and they don’t.

They lie to you. Telling lies because “I didn’t think you would like me if I told you the truth” or “I didn’t want you to get upset” or “I didn’t think it was a big deal” is not cute, and it’s not excusable. A person who readily lies to you for their own gain is manipulative, and they are going to keep doing it the next time it’s more convenient for them.

They are not willing to trust you. A partner has no business demanding that you give them your social media passwords, access to your phone, or the power to GPS track you. Being cheated on or lied to in the past is no excuse. This kind of controlling, possessive behaviour gets much worse over time, and anyone who is this mistrustful of their partner needs to work on their own issues before they can think about being in a relationship.

They are controlling. Your partner should not be telling you what you can wear, how often you can go out, or who you can be friends with. It doesn’t matter if they dress this up as “concern about your safety” or “just looking out for you”. Love is not control. A person who wants to have control over your life is not going to get better over time - they are going to get increasingly more controlling, until you find yourself having to ask their permission for everything.

They try to drive a wedge between you and your family or friends. Trust your relationships with your friends and family. A partner who shows up in your life and starts telling you that X friend is no good for you or that you should really stop seeing so much of Y is not looking out for you, and they don’t have your best interests at heart. They are trying to isolate you, and that’s what they will achieve if this goes on.

They are deeply insecure and counting on the relationship to fix them. You cannot be someone’s everything, no matter how hard you try. It is impossible for one person to be completely responsible for all of their partner’s emotional and social needs. If your partner comes completely unglued the moment that they aren’t able to get validation from you, that’s a serious problem. Best case scenario, you end up in a relationship with someone who needs you to reaffirm the relationship every 30 minutes so they can function. Worst case scenario, you end up sucked into a deeply interdependent relationship with someone who turns angry, violent or suicidal when you aren’t able to make their insecurities go away.

They seem like an entirely different person when they are angry. People with severe anger issues are often able to hide them in the very beginning of a relationship, but they can’t hide them forever. It’s normal for people to get angry sometimes, but if someone’s whole personality changes when they get mad, that’s a sign that there’s some serious problems lurking beneath the surface. An otherwise sweet person who becomes cruel, spiteful and aggressive when they get angry does not have their anger under control, and dating someone who can’t control their anger can be dangerous.

Pink Flags (might be a bad sign, but not necessarily):

They don’t introduce you to their family. It’s easy to feel like someone is ashamed of you or not serious about the relationship if they don’t take you to meet the family, especially if they see their family somewhat regularly. There could be a reasonable explanation, however. Their family might still be totally in love with your partner’s ex and hoping they get back together, and your partner might not want to subject you to that. Their family might be rude to everyone they bring home. There might be a problem in the family - abuse, violence, alcoholism, a parent who flirts openly with their kids’ partners - that they are embarrassed about. Family can be a touchy subject for a lot of people, and it may take time for someone to admit the real reason that you haven’t met their parents yet.

They are behind where they “should” be in life. Some people might be reluctant to date a 30-year-old who still lives with their parents and hasn’t finished college. Sometimes, though, people have made mistakes or faced circumstances beyond their control, and their current life situation isn’t a true representation of who they are or what they can achieve. They might not have taken college seriously the first time around, they might have faced crippling depression in their twenties, they might have been in an abusive relationship that ruined their career - there are all kinds of reasons why someone might be a little behind their peers, and none of those make them a bad potential partner. Current circumstances don’t matter as much as their willingness and drive to improve.

They don’t have a lot of friends. Some people are shy. Some people grew up in an isolated setting and didn’t have a lot of opportunities to make friends. Some people have been too busy to socialize. Some people just require less social interaction than others. Some people just have difficulties making friends. Meeting an adult with few friends can raise some eyebrows, but it doesn’t always mean that someone has driven everyone else out of their life - sometimes there’s a more reasonable explanation.

They are deeply in debt. Financial skills are important in a potential partner, and finding out that someone is terrible with money can put an end to an otherwise promising relationship. Being deeply in debt, however, is different from having bad financial skills. Some people have to take out massive loans in order to afford college, because they don’t have financial support from their parents. Trying to start a business, support an unemployed parent or escape a bad marriage can also put a person in debt. Financial mistakes that someone makes in their late teens or early twenties can follow them for decades. It would be a shame to miss out on a potentially wonderful relationship with someone because they decided to take out loans for their MFA when they were 22.

They have never dated before. Again, many people will look at someone with suspicion if they’ve never dated before, especially once you reach your late twenties or older. It’s easy to assume that there must be something wrong with someone if they haven’t dated, or that they will automatically come with extra baggage or insecurities. That’s not necessarily the case. Again, there are a lot of mitigating factors here - they might have devoted most of their time to school thus far, they might have been too shy to pursue romance, or they might have had a chaotic or isolated early life. Maybe the stars have just never aligned for them, or maybe they spent years in love with someone who never returned their affection. There are a lot of possible explanations, and it’s not necessarily a reason to turn someone down.

They have dated or slept with a lot of people. On the flipside, finding out that someone has dated or slept with a lot of people can also give someone pause - it might make you worry that they aren’t capable of commitment, they’re flighty, or they don’t know what they want. It can even make you worry about your own sexual skills, or wonder if they’ll cheat. Having a lot of former partners does not make someone a cheater, however, and it does not make them incapable of having a committed long-term relationship with one person. A lot of people have a period of frequent short relationships in their life - especially with the rise of Tinder - before eventually settling into something more long-term.

They don’t have social media or an online presence. Some people just don’t do social media. They might have concerns about their privacy and their career, or they might simply not see the point of it. It can be frustrating not to be able to access a partner’s social media profiles in today’s day and age, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that they have something to hide.

They aren’t great at communicating. Communication can be hard for a lot of people, especially if they have never had a healthy relationship modeled for them by their parents or family members. Social anxiety may make it difficult for some people to open up, or they may have absorbed very toxic messages about “sucking it up” and not talking about their feelings. A person who doesn’t always open up about their feelings right away isn’t necessarily being distant or disinterested - it’s possible that they just need more time to warm up,

They have a mental illness. The idea of dating a person with a mental illness can be daunting. There can definitely be additional challenges that come with a mentally ill partner, especially if you’re dealing with mental health issues of your own. But it can be done, and people with mental illnesses can make wonderful, loving and healthy partners. If someone is managing their mental health conditions and knows when they need to seek additional treatment, the impact on the relationship can be fairly minimal.

Red flags are not a one-size-fits-all thing: some people find certain red flags more alarming than others, and having a partner with one or two red flags doesn’t necessarily mean that the relationship is doomed. Ultimately, it’s up to you to decide where you want to draw the line. But if you find that your new partner fits a lot of the items on this list, it might be worth seriously considering if you want the relationship to continue.

#missmentelle #mental health #relationships #dating tips #dating #relationship #love #red flags #emotional abuse #abusive relationship

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fracturedmotivationwriting · 5 years

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the one where ace says 'i love you' and ravyn wants to get married...

Atticus wasn't expecting visitors. He'd already met with Torin and Excalibur to discuss their progress. He'd checked in on Alice earlier, leaving her locked safely in her room to work on a big project for one of her more advanced courses. He'd seen Ravyn during their shared courses, and they hadn't made plans to hang out. In fact, Atticus had explicitly told his best friend that he was planning on spending his evening alone to focus on some projects he had seriously been neglecting due to the recent events with Lev.

So when he heard three distinct knocks at his door, his eyebrows furrowed. He knew instantly that it had to be Ravyn -- Atticus had made it a mission years ago to learn how every one of his friends and acquaintances knocked so he could distinguish them easily.

"Ravyn, I told you I need to work on this report, you-" Atticus had started to nag as he opened the door before stopping himself short.

There were tears in Ravyn's eyes. She wasn't crying. Ravyn had only ever cried once that Atticus knew about. But definite tears were blurring her usually shining eyes. Atticus felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sight. Simultaneously, his blood began to boil as he internally questioned who could be responsible. The obvious answer loomed large in his head.

"What did Zima do?"

Ravyn shook her head, pushing past Atticus and making herself at home in his room immediately. Crawling onto the side of the bed reserved especially for her, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked at Atticus expectantly.

"I didn't come here to discuss that. I need a distraction," she informed him stoically, her usual cool demeanor building back up. "I need my best friend. My joking, spouts off random literature quotes, doesn't take anything too seriously best friend."

She looked up at Atticus with something akin to determination in her eyes. She was not going to discuss whatever Lev had said or done this time, and nothing Atticus could say would change that. Atticus knew better than to even try. If she just needed him to distract her, to cheer her up and make her heart ache a little less, then that was what Atticus was going to do.

"Okay," Atticus nodded, his voice gentle as he climbed into bed next to her. "How bout the 'that's what she said' game?"

Atticus was referring to a game he and Ravyn had played many times. It was something his mother taught him -- though she never gave it a name, that was from a drunken night he and Ravyn had played it. After his mother passed, Atticus had refused to do something so childish, despite Alice's pleading to play with her. He refused to do a lot of things after his mother died. But then he met Ravyn, and slowly the pain in his chest eased up. He had found himself enjoying the silly and childish things again. So he taught Ravyn how to play one night, and the two of them did it whenever Atticus was having one of 'those' nights and needed to be reminded that he could still be a kid.

The rules were simple: put on any movie, mute it, and pick characters to do the voices for. You can say absolutely anything, but you cannot quote the actual movie.

Ravyn merely nodded, allowing Atticus to pull up a random movie to start. She would have preferred going out and pulling pranks, maybe doing a little vandalism around the school, but she knew Atticus was trying to keep her from making a mistake. He was keeping her in the safety of his room so that if she did something stupid it wouldn't have too big of repercussions. But also so that if she changed her mind, if she needed to talk and cry, that she could do so in the comfort of his bed. She knew her best friend well enough to know his motivations. Last year, he may have supported her urge to go break things and cause mayhem. But the Atticus next to her today had matured. She supposed the recent events with Lev, Ravyn, and Alice had a lot to do with that.

Allowing her mind to shut off a bit, she leaned into Atticus as the two of them focused their attention on the old black-and-white film Atticus had chosen, ridiculous dialogue forming between them as they tried to outdo each other in absurdity.

////

Two movies and three bags of popcorn later, Atticus felt pretty good with how the evening had turned out. He had managed to get Ravyn to laugh. He could see her stress ease from her shoulders as the two went back and forth trying to get the other to break first. Her eyes were clear of tears, their usual sparkle of mischief back in them. Although, somewhere towards the end of the first film, Atticus had momentarily brought tears to her eyes -- but that had been from laughter, so Atticus' heart skipped a beat rather than clenched in anger.

The credits were rolling on the second film. Ravyn's head was on Atticus' chest, his arms wrapped around her. They had migrated closer to each other as the movies continued, finding themselves cuddling like old times by the end. Atticus couldn't help but feel content. Despite everything going on -- Lev hurting his sister and Ravyn, Ravyn's engagement to the asshole, Atticus' father being a bigger jerk than usual -- Atticus felt at ease. With Ravyn safe in his arms, their abs hurting from laughing, and a plan in place to get back at Lev, how could he not feel at peace? Sure, he still had to figure out how to stop the marriage, but that just required a little extra brainpower. Right now, at this moment with Ravyn by his side, everything was as it should be.

For the first time since his mother passed, Atticus felt completely and truly happy.

Maybe it was this (false) sense of contentment that led to Atticus ruining the moment. Or maybe this was karma reminding him that he was a piece of garbage that didn't deserve happiness.

Looking down at Ravyn curled into his side, a small smile gracing her face, Atticus' breath hitched. She was the love of his life. She was unhappily engaged to another man, but she was his best friend and he was head over heels in love with her. And he had to tell her before it was too late.

She must have sensed that he was staring at her, or maybe she could hear his brain screaming, because suddenly her eyes were trained on his. Her eyebrows furrowing a bit at the intensity of his stare, she leaned away to get a better look at him.

"What's wrong, Ace?" she whispered, confusion evident in her voice.

"Ravyn, I-" Atticus stopped, shaking his head. Debating inside with whether or not to do this, and if so, how to say this.

Ravyn could see him struggling with something in his head. She could tell by the way his brow creased, how frustration flashed in his eyes, how he gnawed on his lip. She'd seen Atticus worry over something many times, but this internal conflict seemed greater somehow. It made her a little worried. Afraid that he was going to deliver more bad news. She wasn't sure she could handle any more on top of everything else going on.

But this was Atticus. Her best friend. If he needed to get something off his chest, she would be there for him.

"Atticus, just tell me," she said as softly as she could, but it still came out a little harsh, like a demand.

Atticus took a deep breath. Now or never.

"Ravyn, I'm in love with you."

The silence was deafening. Atticus felt like he couldn't breathe. He certainly couldn't look Ravyn in the eye anymore, not when she was giving him that blank stare. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see what response they chugged out. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

And yet, after a beat, his mouth opened again and he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out.

"I'm not talking about 'you're my best friend and I love you.' I mean, I well and truly am in love with you. Like my heart stops when you smile at me or laugh at my jokes. It physically pains me to see you upset. I'm a disaster, but with you, I want to be better. I don't want to be with anybody else. I would do anything to keep you safe and make you happy. Even if it meant never being happy myself. I am in love with you, Ray."

More silence. Atticus can feel his heart pounding. He thinks he's going to puke if she doesn't say something soon. She's moved out of his hold, sitting up straight and staring at the wall now as she processes his words. He's not even sure she heard the rest of his speech. She hasn't moved, blinked, or made a noise since the beginning of his confession. Atticus vaguely wonders if he's broken her brain.

"Atticus," she finally breaks the silence, her voice low. Atticus can't detect emotion in it. Can't tell if this is going to be a happy sentence or a heartbreaking one. He really might puke.

"This... This is perfect."

Confusion fills his brain as Ravyn turns her gaze to him. She looks... Thrilled? But something seems off. This isn't a 'you love me and I love you' kind of thrilled, Atticus realizes. This is something else entirely.

"Ravyn?"

"This is perfect. This is the solution we've been looking for!" Ravyn exclaims, a crazed-like smile coming to her face as she jumps from the bed and begins pacing the room. Atticus remains on the bed, feeling a bit like he's looked Medusa in the eyes.

"I don't have to marry Lev!"

He can feel his heart becoming stone.

"I can marry you. My dad may bitch about it at first, but- this could work. Atticus, you're a lifesaver."

He feels empty. Maybe he should feel heartbroken. Like he's been turned to stone and then crushed into a million pieces. His world shattered. Like he felt when his mom died. But instead, he feels hollowed out. Still standing, still together. Like all the walls he's built over the years have been reinforced and raised higher. But empty.

Ravyn must see it in his face. How his expression went from adoration, to scared, to confused, and now blank. Stone cold. His eyes dulling in a second and then turning icy and sharp the next. The kind of expression that would have gotten him into the assassin program if not for all his problems. Her own expression goes from glee to worried. She takes a step towards him.

Atticus stands, arms crossed. Closing himself off.

"You should leave."

"Atticus-"

"Just go, Ravyn."

Ravyn almost doesn't recognize him. In an instant, he's changed completely from her best friend to a stranger. She doesn't quite understand. But she listens. Doesn't argue. Doesn't question or apologize. She leaves.

#a coalition story #ravyn white #ravyn and atticus #race #atticus hamish blackbourne iii #man our kids are screwed

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prorevenge · 6 years

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SO my health not worth your attention? enjoy when i destroy your career

so this is my first post, be gentle. after a lot of consideration, i post this. also English is not my language.

4 years ago, i was hired on a big Japanese trading company ( for selling commodity items), I was living alone and the current job pay was not enough for me to save anything . And that is where i meet this guy, he is my GM in his 50 lets call him Trash, because he keep talking trash to me while he himself doing jack shit.

First day is a training day about how to use the system in the company and all.

2nd day, Trash only trained me for 2 hours before asking me to do some customer clearance process (this company imported products from other country) which i have no idea how to do it at all, he proceed to tell me to ask other sales staff in the department, which to my surprise there is only 1 lady.

The 3rd day is the beginning of my torture.

Trash found out I live alone and have no one in the city, so he decided to harass me.

He kept mentioning that i work so slow, and that i cant remember a lot of thing ( this i bypassed with writing memos.)

I then apologized to him, saying i was still learning. This turns out become his reason on keep harassing me through the year.

I told HR, but HR doesn't do anything other than sent email to Trash to stop his behavior.

Skip to the end of 1st year of my slavery under Trash, aside from His harassment on every chance he got by belittling me in front of me and sometimes customers, my work and relationship with customer progressed very good. I tripled the sales of this dept and make most of my customers as my friend. Comes the judgement day of target meeting. Trash opened with he is very satisfied with the work of the sales staffs. Then he start by showing the growth of the sales, and then proceed to tell us to leave the room and come inside one by one to talk about raise and bonus. Come my turn, he open the discussion with a heavy sigh and he told me that he cant do anything but gave me a fixed bonus by company but the raise is satisfied ( company arrange these two). The bonus was on the contract, but its only for 1st year the next year its according to my sales.

Enter the 2nd year, turns out Trash talked to HQ and raise the sales target by 400% for our dept without the sales staffs approval.This is important.

2nd year was a disaster, our suppliers undergoing strike from their employee and the currency in my country inflated by 30%, not to mention some customers having financial problem due to this. Sales was dropping by 40% and the situation was grim. I was under the heavy stress and pressure, Trash harassment increasing because he is now being chase by HQ.

My health condition dropped through the year, and i was hospitalized due to high blood pressure. Everyone visits me except Trash. 2nd day of hospitalization i got a message from him, " Hey, are you still in hospital? customers keep calling me, you need to work from hospital i don't care what happen.". I was stunned when i read that, my doctor clearly telling me i need to stop working for 1 week, and company accepted my medical leave, but this guy doesn't care about me and that was the last straw. That week he kept barraging my phone with calls and messages but i ignore him.

When i get to work i told him i would like to resign and to my surprise, he want me to give him 3 months notice and start spouting insults why i ignored him last week,he told me he got 3 new customer which is his friend's and i will handle their order but the sales value won't be added to mine as punishment. in that moment i decided to take revenge on his ass. I want him fired or demoted. Then i hatch a plan which referred by my friend as time bombs.

The First time bomb :

In our company overdue of payment is a big NO NO! the whole management will rain shit on you and your customer if you do and will rain bigger shits if you do delivery after overdue.

Due to the sales drop and his friend's financial problem, Trash sometimes altered the invoice date and do delivery after overdue( not more than 2 days) just to keep sales number good.

He usually collects the order for 6 months and shove it to me to do everything. for my revenge, i do the first 3 months order as usual, then piled up the other 3 as 1 order. Trash being trash never read the sales contract because he expect me to do everything correctly, when he signed the contract, my heart was jumping with joy. The sales value stated on the contract was more than $ 2,400,000.

The Second time bomb :

Aside from giving credit, our company preferred to use LC ( Letter of Credit) which to cash the LC you need to follow all the clause in it before the expiry date, one of the biggest customer preferred this method too, hassle free they said.

Trash love to bypassed some of the clause by doing some negotiation with the customer and usually they agreed, but this time when making the required documents to cash the LC, I voluntarily made a typo on weight number.

The LC will be cashed 1 month after i resigned valued around $ 1,900,000.

The Third time bomb :

My resignation date was coming fast, and it was 1 month before my resignation. Trash still haven't look for my replacement, I don't bother to mention this to him either. 3 weeks before i resigned, he suddenly running to HR and asking that they can do some headhunting for him and come up with result within 3 weeks, HR said its impossible.

2 weeks before i resigned, He suddenly come to the office with a young lady and announce she is my replacement and she is daughter of his friend. after talking with her i found out that she is fresh grad of Art Major while my position ask for minimal 5 years experience in sales. I then have this good idea to turn her to my third bomb.

10 days passed, still no request from trash for me to train and do handover to this girl, instead he keep bringing her to meet his customers ( I heard he advertise her as the perfect sales staff and way better than me and brainwashed her that I am an idiot). I already have my plan for her. FYI Trash have hardly meet my customers as in his word " not to important" and his customers most of them has stopped buying from us.

2 days before my resignation, Trash loudly demanded that i have to train her today and she will have all the knowledge i have, I then began constructed the best sales staff he has, first I told her very basic information of my customer, thinking I am an idiot, she decided its enough information, which if you are in sales: company name and company product is not nearly enough as information. Second, I told her about ongoing project and delivery and payment, she nodded and she said she know. Third, I told her that she need to calculate price from supplier and cost ( we are doing Delivered Duty Paid), without showing her how to. she nodded and tell me its enough. Later in the day, she told Trash she already have enough information from me and no need to do more training. Trash satisfied with this.

And I resigned, the moment i stepped out of the building, I blocked Trash and the girl from all of my communication method. and wait for the bomb to explode.

The second time bomb exploded :

1 month after my resignation Finance Dept was trying to cashed in the LC but the LC came up with discrepancy ( you cannot cashed in), customer rejected the request from Trash to submit acceptance and ask for explanation why he signed all the documents needed back then ( documents sent to the customer and the bank ) and it's already on their system which it need a lot of permission and explanation why they have to change it, on the other hand the LC expire tomorrow.

According to some witness, COO chewed a new one out of Trash and he is relieved from all his power to sign EVERY documents, and must be able to work this out.

The First Bomb Exploded :

After 3 correct delivery, 2 month after my resignation. the 3 piled up order came at the port. All 600 MT in 24 containers.

as my ex coworker recalls : Trash rushed to the office, swearing and keep saying i was incompetence and making such a big mistake. He kept swearing until 30 mins and then sit down call his friend and he was shocked his friend doesn't want to accepted the delivery because he has small warehouse. At my country you will be charged $ 200/ day per container if you don't take out your container from the port. I don't know the event after this but i was told company knew about this they have to cough up around $ 30,000 for renting warehouse and everything. The next month company also found out about he is doing delivery after overdue risking company around $ 600,000 COO chewed his ass again and now relieving his power to even order from the supplier.

The third bomb exploded :

The girl, being so stuck up and brainwashed, she never followed up most of my customers. Being fresh grad she doesn't know what is sales work is. 3 months she is still enjoying my ongoing project and sales. Then it stopped, It just stopped.

COO called Trash, asking why there is only 5% of sales after 3 months, Trash confused and bring the girl to COO, the girl told COO that she is doing her work properly. Then they found about her not doing any order collecting. By this time all my former customers called me and ask why there is no call from my company and the new sales staff doesn't respond. I then proceed gave them direct line to their respective product suppliers.

Trash and the new girl going around asking to meet my customers which is declined by them, suppliers doesn't want to help them either.

1 Year after my resignation, My former Coworker called me, informing me that Trash is demoted to staff and now being sent to Pakistan's branch to "train". I then asked what happened, turns out the sales never recover, he was demoted because sales dropped to 10% from when at the end of my 1st year. The new girl, got transferred to other dept involving arts.

TL:DR : GM harass an employee, demoted to staff and sent to Pakistan to train.

(source) story by (/u/whatshouldismean)

#prorevenge #by /u/whatshouldismean #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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sol1056 · 6 years

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Hey Sol, what is still puzzling me is re: VLD, how could the EPs deliberately scrap the show's story bible (which the Story Editor Tim Hedrick, who left at some point in S3's production, was devising far back in S1-2) and not get action taken against them? Is there not a policy out there where every show must have its backbone in the form of this bible, written by a qualified Story Editor?

I would be very surprised if there were anything like a formal policy about it. Think of a story’s bible as sort of like a project management tool: it’s a big outline of the story, just like PM tools outline all the various moving parts. Good project managers learn early that you can’t wing something this big, so a massive chunk of their job is keeping their preferred tool up-to-date… but a few of the PMs I’ve known have also learned that the hard way.

My guess? The EPs probably didn’t delete the story bible per se (since it existed in some form to be given to a different team as basis for the first paladin handbook). They just… stopped updating it. They opted to wing it. It was also Hedrick’s first time as story editor, so perhaps he didn’t realize either the magnitude of wrongness in winging it.

Given that common newbie arrogance (and ignorance), the responsibility here really falls on the manager. You can’t just toss newbies into the deep end and not expect things to end up a complete disaster. You have to keep an eye on them, guide them, and do your best to impress on them why skipping some crucial step could lead to disaster.

Yes, that’s more work. That’s what you sign up for when you hire newbies, and it’s hopefully offset by the potential that person brings to the table. In the meantime, you can’t let them wander around unsupervised, or you’re just dooming them to crashing head-first into at least eight of the mistakes on the Top Ten Newbie Mistake List. It’s inevitable.

As time goes by, I’ve become more and more convinced a lot of VLD’s issues can be traced to bad management. I’m not excusing the EPs from their own hubris, but the bigger picture seems to be shaping up to one in which they were thrown into the deep end, somehow managed with a doggy-paddle and thought that’d suffice, and were 90% complete before they got told that wouldn’t do. They course-corrected and regrouped, were left again to their own devices, and yanked again late in the process, rinse and repeat.

The EPs getting indignant over course-correction is their issue, but the last-minute aspect is on their boss. You can be a macro-manager and let someone go off on their own thing… once they’ve proven to be competent. A newbie will talk a good game but they just haven’t the experience, so even if macro-management is your preferred style, you gotta be more hands-on.

Frankly, given the scale and budget of VLD overall, the simplest explanation for the meandering plots in S3-S6, the complete disaster of S7, and the bizarro-land tossed salad of S8 is that no one above the EPs was bothering to keep an eye on the EPs. And that issue goes all the way back to whenever they ditched the story bible, and no supervisory-level manager bothered to make sure the two newbies were using the proper tools properly.

#vld #voltron #television production #management #sol thinks about stuff

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 5 years

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Six Baudelaires AU, Part One {AO3} {Read from the Beginning}

Chapter Two → in which the Baudelaires receive some Distressing News

If anyone asked the very unfortunate Baudelaire children if they liked their siblings, their response would either be “which one?” or “depends on the day”, depending on whether one of them had recently been pranked.

There were six Baudelaire children, which many people found surprising- how can there be six of you? How do your parents deal with it all? Lilac would normally respond sweetly, saying that she helped her parents take care of things, mentally noting that she was always in charge when their parents needed some extra help. If any of the other siblings were given a chance to respond, they would say something like, “They don’t, we run wild around the city while nobody’s looking,” and then leave before the adult could figure out they were being sarcastic.

The six siblings had to spend a lot of time together; while most of them had friends, they didn’t spend a lot of time outside their home, so they had to learn to get along. If they didn’t, the oldest four might’ve ripped each other apart before Solitude could even exist. Of course, just because they could survive each other didn’t mean they had the perfect relationship; on more than one occasion, Lilac realized her shampoo smelled off and realized just in time that Violet had dumped dangerous chemicals inside the bottle in retaliation for whatever had happened that week, or Klaus and Nick went three days without talking to each other because they disagreed on the meaning of a book (Lilac had to lock them in a room until they stopped arguing over The Old Man and the Sea), or Sunny and Solitude would bite the wrong thing and cause trouble, which meant their older siblings would be very disappointed in them.

But, well, they were siblings. These kinds of things happen to several children who are forced to spend the first two decades of their lives cooped up together. They could fight, they could make up, they could forget why they were arguing and start laughing over the same joke. And, of course, most of their antics were all connected by the phrase “Don’t tell Mother and Father.” Their parents loved them, of course, but it was a bit anxiety-inducing to hear about what problems they’d all caused that day- or that week, if they were away on business trips and Lilac had to be in charge.

On that fateful day, the Baudelaires’ parents happened to be home, but they asked them to take a rickety trolley alone to the seashore, where they would spend the day as a sort of vacation as long as they were home for dinner. It was a very gray and cloudy day, which didn’t bother any of the Baudelaires; when it was hot and sunny, Briny Beach was crowded with tourists, but it was empty on the gray and cloudy days. Besides, Lilac quite liked when things were gray, and liked them even better when they were black.

Violet was the first to arrive, rushing off the trolley with her basket in hand and beaming, her hair falling over her shoulder as she whipped around. “Hurry it up, we haven’t got all day!” she called.

“Yes, we do!” Lilac called after her, carrying the blanket. She turned to her siblings, saying, “Now, don’t wander off. The beach is huge, and even without people here, we don’t want to get split u- Nick, what did I just say?”

Nick, who was carrying Solitude, looked up from a spot on the beach he’d stopped at, kneeling down to look. “It’s a tide pool.” he said simply.

“I don’t care what it is, stay with us.”

“But I was reading about tide pools yesterday,” he said, “And I’d like to see what’s here.”

“Hopkins,” said Solitude, which probably meant, “Let him look at the tide pools, we’ve got time.”

“We agreed we’d do this first.” said Klaus, carrying Sunny, who was already scanning the beach, looking for things to bite.

“Alright.” Nick said hesitantly, standing up again and carrying Solitude over to the blanket Lilac had laid out.

“Are you ready?” Violet asked, kneeling beside the basket.

“Let’s get to work!” Klaus said excitedly, having been the one to help Violet the most on this particular project.

“Do you think this will be as good as the mailbox?” Violet asked.

“For the love of all that is Holy and Good in this world,” Lilac said sharply, “Do not turn this into the Mailbox Incident.”

“I don’t know, I think that went well.” Nick shrugged.

“It went better than the ceiling fan.” Klaus said.

“LIlienthal,” Sunny said, which meant, “Or the hang glider.”

“Come on, Lilac, help me with last minute adjustments,” Violet said, tying back her hair.

Lilac was the oldest, as she liked to remind everyone when they thought it was a good idea to goof off; she was fifteen years old, and with a brilliant mind. She liked to tinker with the family’s items, but she disliked the term “repair girl” that Nick sometimes jokingly called her. She preferred the term “mechanic”, as she often fixed or improved any item that was brought to her. She said there was “always something” that could be done to better any item, any piece of trash. Anything could be useful… except Violet’s ugly clothes, nobody could fix that disaster.

Violet was eleven months younger than Lilac, currently fourteen, though she was only a few inches shorter than her older sister. And though she shared her eldest sister’s knack for technology, was far more of an inventor than an upgrader. If you gave Lilac three random pieces of machinery, she could mix and match parts until each one was better. If you gave Violet three random pieces, she would combine them all into one and hope it didn’t explode, or just tear them apart and make something new entirely. While Lilac liked to improve on things, Violet preferred to create things out of her own mind. Whenever Violet was inventing or thinking hard, and her brain was whirling with levers, pulleys, and gears, she couldn’t be distracted by something as trivial as her hair, so when she was about four she learned how to tie it back with a ribbon. Lilac picked up the habit, too, though she used longer ribbons and was a bit more dramatic about it.

As the sisters worked on the basket, Violet said, “Klaus, Nick, at what angle are the prevailing currents?”

Klaus pulled out his book on the oceans, while Nick sat and thought for a while, trying to remember. At the same time, both answered, as Lilac and Violet nodded along and closed up the wood of the basket.

The twins were the next oldest- Nick and Klaus Baudelaire, the only boys. Though they were both twelve years old, Nick was thirteen minutes older than Klaus and would never let him forget it. Klaus and Nick did not share their sisters’ inventing skills- in fact, Klaus was absolutely useless with mechanics. The brothers loved to read instead. Nick dug into nonfiction books and scientific studies as soon as he could get his hands on them. He preferred books on the Natural World or Physics, but he wasn’t picky, he’d read anything he could find, and he could memorize those books faster than anyone would be believed possible; but as much as he loved reading, he often wished he could see all those things for himself, instead of just reading about them. Though he also had another past time, which was helping Violet test her inventions, usually by doing dangerous stunts that would scare Lilac and Klaus.

Klaus was also a reader, but he was much more comfortable just reading than experiencing; he often said that his siblings could abandon him in the library, and he could live there forever and never complain. He didn’t get as involved with hijinks as his siblings- he tended to spend most of his time in his room, studying or reading or spending time with his younger siblings, trying to see how fast he could get them to learn how to read with him. The exception was when he or Violet had an idea they both liked- such as today’s invention- and they would stay up all night working on it, which annoyed their siblings, as they were both insufferable while tired.

“Of course, we still need the right projectile.” Klaus said.

Nick leaned over and picked a rock up from the ground, turning to the infants. “Alright, girls, is this the right projectile?”

Soli and Sunny both considered, before Sunny said, “Goo-de-roo?” which probably meant, “Can you find a rock that’s not sandstone?”

Violet picked up a bigger rock, and passed it to Klaus, who passed it to Nick, who passed it to Sunny, who was a bit closer than Soli. While Soli giggled and clapped her hands, Sunny bit into the rock, making it much smoother.

The youngest Baudelaires were born much later than their siblings- Solitude, the older, had recently entered toddlerhood. She was the cheeriest of the Baudelaires, with a smile always on her face, no matter what trouble she was getting up to. She would have the same smile while succeeding in finishing a puzzle as she did when she was playing fetch with Nick- “fetch” being a word which here meant that he would throw whatever was closest to him and she would catch it and bite it. She liked to bite things, though not as much as the youngest Baudelaire.

Sunny was the smallest of her siblings, though size is not a guarantee of power. She could bite through anything that was given to her, even with only a few sharp teeth. She was still an infant, and often had to be carried places by her older siblings, usually Lilac or Klaus; when she needed to go somewhere she couldn’t crawl, she’d have to request one of them to move her. Both her and Solitude communicated exclusively in what sounded like incoherent babbles, though their siblings could understand them fine.

Sunny handed the rock back, and they all thanked their sister, before passing the rock to Lilac, who pulled some chalk out of her pocket and marked the rock with a white X. She stood, preparing to throw, before Klaus said, “Excuse me, Li, but why are you throwing with your left hand?”

Lilac paused. “I’m curious to see if I can skip the rock as far as I can with my left as I can with my right.”

“I don’t mean to criticize,” Klaus said, “But standard scientific method calls for stable systematics.”

Nick, sitting next to the infants, rolled his eyes and mimed yawning, which made the two youngest children erupt in giggles.

“I think Klaus is right,” Violet said, “You should use your standard right-handedness for the best effects.”

“If you say so.” Lilac shrugged, passing her rock to her other hand.

She knelt down, waved her arm a bit, and then threw the rock across the water.

They watched until it stopped skipping, disappearing into the water, and then they knelt down by the basket, with Violet and Klaus positioned on either side, and Lilac from the back, in case something went wrong. Nick grabbed Soli and held her up a bit, so she could see better.

“Ready?” Lilac asked.

“Ready.” Violet and Klaus said.

“Ready.” Nick said.

“Asill.” said Soli and Sunny.

Violet pulled a switch on the side of the basket, and a mechanical arm shot out, spreading far across the water, before the hand reached in, sensing something in the waves. It retracted itself before long, coming back and dropping the same X-marked rock that they had thrown into Violet’s hand.

Violet, Nick and Klaus all cheered, while Lilac smiled and breathed a sigh of relief that this invention hadn’t backfired horribly. Soli and Sunny both clapped and laughed, happy to see their siblings’ plan had succeeded.

“It worked!” Violet cheered.

“I never expected otherwise.” Klaus said.

“I wish Mom and Dad had seen it.” Lilac said. “They’d be very proud of you two.”

“It’s not like them to just send us off on our own.” Nick said.

“They just get back from a trip.” Violet said. “Maybe they needed to follow up on something today?”

“What would they need to follow up on that we couldn’t be there for?” Nick asked. “Maybe they’re just-”

Suddenly, Sunny said, “Gack!” and after a second, Soli said the same thing; this probably meant, “Look at that mysterious figure emerging from the fog!”

The six siblings turned, and saw that in the distance, far away from them on the misty shore, a tall figure was walking towards them. They stared for a moment, and then Nick stood up, lifting Solitude with him. Lilac moved forwards and grabbed Sunny, while Klaus moved to grab Violet’s arm, moving slightly behind her. The children stood, watching it get closer.

“Who do you think it is?” Violet asked.

“I don’t know,” Klaus said, “But they seem to be moving right towards us.”

“We’re alone on the beach,” Lilac said, “There’s nobody else they could be moving toward.”

Violet felt the smooth stone still in her hand, wondering if she should throw it at the figure.

“It only seems scary because of all the mist.” Nick said, as if reading Violet’s mind.

The figure finally came into view, and they recognized him.

“It’s Mr Poe.” Lilac said.

“From the bank?” Klaus asked.

Violet felt a bit bad about having prepared to throw a rock at him; he was one of their parents’ friends. As he approached, he coughed- which he did a lot- and then stopped in front of the children.

“Hello, Baudelaires.” he said.

They watched him for a moment, and then Lilac gave her siblings that look every oldest sibling gives their younger siblings at some point, the look that said, Don’t embarrass me, stop being rude.

“How do you do?” Violet asked.

“How do you do?” Klaus asked.

“Odo yow!” Sunny and Soli both said.

Nick stared at them. “You all sound like robots.” he said, before turning to Mr Poe. “It’s nice to see you, Mr Poe.”

“I’m doing fine, thank you.” said Mr Poe, in response to Violet and Klaus.

For a few seconds nobody said anything, and then Lilac said, “It’s a nice day.” Sunny made a noise that sounded like an angry bird, and Lilac glared at her, shushing her.

“Yes, it is a nice day.” Mr Poe said, before he added, “I’m afraid I have some very bad news for you children.”

The six Baudelaire siblings looked at him, before he finally continued.

“Your parents,” Mr Poe said, “Have perished in a terrible fire.”

The children didn’t say anything.

“They perished in a fire that destroyed your entire home.”

More silence. Lilac took her eyes off of Mr. Poe and placed her gaze on the ocean, wondering if this was some kind of awful joke.

“I’m very, very sorry to tell you this, my dears.”

He had never called them that before.

After another silent moment, Mr Poe said, “Perished means killed.”

“We know what perished means.” Klaus said, his voice breaking slightly as he gripped tighter onto Violet’s arm.

“The fire department arrived, of course,” Mr Poe said, “But they were too late. The entire house burned to the ground.”

“Our…” Violet said, her words catching in her throat.

“Mr Poe, are you…” Lilac began, glancing towards him, as if he’d meant to find some other children and accidentally happened upon them, “Are you sure?”

“Of course, children. I was sent to retrieve you, I am the executor of your parents’ estate; that means I will be handling their enormous fortune and figuring out where you children will go. When Lilac comes of age, the fortune will be yours, but the bank will take charge of it until you are old eno-”

“You’re lying.” Nick said suddenly.

“Nick!” Lilac glared at him reproachfully. “Don’t be-”

“You’re lying, you’re…” Nick backed up a bit, carrying Soli, who looked completely blank. “Our parents aren’t-”

Lilac passed Sunny to Klaus and immediately moved to her brother. “Nick, please.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders, and he looked towards her. “Li, he can’t be right. Right? He can’t be-”

“Nick. Nick, just calm down, okay? Nick, please…”

“Where are we supposed to go?” Violet asked quietly, almost inaudibly, to Mr Poe, as Nick kept shaking his head and backing up.

Mr Poe looked away from Nick, saying, “You’ll be staying with me until I can find you a suitable guardian.”

“A suitable guardian?” Klaus asked. They didn’t know of any relatives they had outside of their parents.

“Yes. Your parents’ will said you were to be raised as conveniently as possible by your closest living relative, so-”

“Mr Poe?”

They turned behind them, and the childrens’ hearts sank. Nick looked like he had broken down, and Lilac was hugging him close, staring at them with a sad look in her eyes, struggling to hold it together as her brother cried in her arms.

“Yes, Lilac?”

She looked at him sadly, and then said, “Can we see the house?”

They were silent on the drive over. It was a bit of a squeeze to get them all into Mr Poe’s car; Lilac sat in the shotgun seat, holding Sunny, while Violet, Klaus and Nick squeezed themselves in the back, seating Solitude on Nick’s lap. Nick had gone blank, staring out the window and refusing to respond to questions, only moving to grab Soli’s hand when she pressed up against him or to give Mr Poe a glare when he tried to start conversation. Violet and Klaus sat numbly next to each other, occasionally glancing at Lilac, as if wondering if she could tell them what to do. Lilac, meanwhile, responded carefully to each of Mr Poe’s sentences, holding Sunny close as the infant glanced around, a little confused; she was a bit too young to quite process what was happening.

They reached the house within minutes, and upon seeing it, all of the siblings felt a sinking feeling in their stomach.

It was… it was destroyed.

Violet got out first, opening the car and walking out in an almost trance-like state. Lilac went soon after, followed closely by Klaus and Nick, the former grabbing onto his brother’s free hand. Solitude and Sunny stared ahead, taking them even longer than their siblings to recognize that they were looking at the remains of their house.

The walls had all but crumbled, everything stained black with soot and ash. Windows were shattered, shelves had fallen, and almost none of the structure had remained; they couldn’t even tell where a room might’ve begun or ended.

Wordlessly, the siblings stepped into the rubble, despite Mr Poe, behind them, calling for them to be careful or to not step onto broken glass or that maybe their weight wouldn’t be supported. They didn’t care.

They made it to the room that used to be the Library, which they could only tell because of the remains of a fireplace, a ruined piano, and several broken shelves, books spilled onto the floor. Klaus and Nick stared at the burnt pages, while Violet made her way over to a broken grandfather clock she had spent hours of her life repairing and fixing and adding additions too; it was almost completely shattered. Lilac stared at the fireplace, holding Sunny with one arm and reaching out with the other to grab a silhouette portrait that had managed to survive the flames; all the other photos had been torn or burnt.

None of their belongings had survived; Violet found the remains of one of her microscopes, fused together in the heat of the fire, and Sunny had spotted one of her melted teething rings. Lilac had moved to the scorched cushion of their Mother’s favorite windowseat, and Nick had come across the shattered fragments of their Father’s brandy bottle. Klaus stared up at the destroyed bookshelves, unable to recognize any of his favorite books, and Solitude spotted what might be the remains of her favorite puzzle.

Mr Poe followed them in after a minute, and said, after a second, “I just want to assure you Baudelaires that you have absolutely nothing-”

“We have absolutely nothing.” Klaus echoed.

“-to worry about.” Poe finished.

“Ooh-roo!” Sunny said, attracting her siblings’ attention. She meant to say, “What’s that?”

She was leaning over in Lilac’s arms, staring down at an open drawer in an ashy desk; their Father’s desk, which they never touched due to both his express wishes and the fact that the paperwork they had swiped from the drawer bored them all immensely.

Klaus and Violet moved together, going to the drawer and peering in, surprised. Klaus reached in and pulled out what looked like some kind of odd item, maybe a cylindrical case? It had an odd-looking eye design on the top. But even as he pulled it out of the drawer, half of it burst into ash, making him jump back.

“Baudelaires, we really must get going.” Mr Poe said. “There’s an early banking day tomorrow, and hopefully we will be able to find you a suitable guardian then.”

Klaus flipped the cylinder over in his hands. The siblings crowded around him, staring down at it curiously. What was it, and why was it in their parents’ desk?

“Baudelaires? Come along.”

Slowly, they all turned to Mr Poe, and Klaus pocketed the cylinder. “Let’s go.” he said numbly, and slowly, they all walked out.

In the car, Mr Poe said, almost brightly, “Say goodbye, Baudelaires.”

Lilac refused to look, even as Sunny tried to spy the house out the window. Violet, Klaus and Nick turned to look out the back window, Solitude peering over the top of the seat as best she could.

“Goodbye.” Violet whispered. Nobody else said anything.

The second they were alone, Nick said, “You know what this is? Bullshit.”

Lilac jumped. “Nick! Language!”

They were sitting in a small, cramped room; two beds were in the corner, but neither were for them; they were for Mr Poe’s sons, Edgar and Albert, who were currently fighting with their parents over dinner. Two mattresses had been provided for them; it was supposed to be one for the boys and one for the girls, but they weren’t sure all four girls were going to fit on one mattress. The children hadn’t felt like dinner, so they’d respectfully skipped after Eleanora Poe had shoved a newspaper in their faces, the front page article being all about how their house had been destroyed and they were now orphans. (Great, so now everyone knew.)

“It doesn’t matter!” Nick yelled back, kicking a mattress. “It doesn’t matter!”

“Nick,” Lilac said, glancing at Solitude, who she was currently holding, “You’re scaring her.”

“I’m scaring her? Lilac, our parents are dead! We’re going to be shoved to the first person who might be related to us, and til then we have to sleep on the floor. We don’t have anything, our house is gone-”

“Nick-” Violet began, slowly placing Sunny on the mattress.

“And,” Nick said, “These are our only clothes now, and you all look horrible! I mean, Lilac looks like some kind of gothic nightmare, Klaus is a tiny professor… Violet, you look like you’ve been living above a store for five-year-old girls, Sunny’s a walking flower, and look at Soli! She looks like she’s gonna send a message on a bird.”

“Yawgnimeh.” Solitude said, which meant, “Detailed.”

“Look at you,” Violet snapped, “You look like a hipster.”

“Don’t fight!” Lilac said, standing inbetween them. “Nick, stop it, please. Look, we… we’re all a bit upset, okay? But we can’t take it out on each other. For better or worse, we’re all we’ve got now.”

They stared at each other, and then Nick sat on the mattress, staring blankly at nothing. After a second, Lilac sat next to him, still holding Solitude. Sunny crawled over, while Violet and Klaus sat on the floor.

“Are… are you sure this is really happening?” Nick asked quietly.

“Apparently.” Lilac said.

Solitude let out a whimper and put a small hand on Nick’s shoulder, while Violet said, “Maybe… maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe our new guardian will be… nice.”

“Nice? Vi, it doesn’t matter.” Nick said sharply. “Our parents just… our…”

Klaus glanced between his siblings, and then slowly pulled the mysterious cylinder out from his pocket.

“What do you think it is?” he asked, and the siblings turned to it, each secretly glad that they had a good change of subject.

“It looks like a case.” Nick said quickly, looking at it curiously. “Can I see?”

“Will you give it back?”

“Klaus, it’s not a fucking toy, it’s the last thing we have from our house.”

“Don’t say that in front of Solitude and Sunny.” Lilac reprimanded.

“I can say whatever I want.” Nick huffed as Klaus handed over the cylinder. He flipped it, and Soli and Lilac leaned over to see. “What’s that Eye that was on the top, before it broke?”

“I dunno.” Klaus said. “I don’t remember it well, I just remember that I’ve never seen it before. It was drawn pretty weird; I think it might be a symbol, but I can’t remember it from any of my books.”

“I don’t know it either.” Nick said, sounding disappointed. “Why do you think it split in half?”

“Pressure from the fire or smoke?” Lilac suggested quietly.

“But the other half?” Violet asked skeptically.

“Deciduous,” Soli said, which probably meant, “Can I bite it?”

“No!” Klaus yelled, grabbing it back. “You might break it!”

“Klaus!” Lilac said. “Be nice!”

“I’m not letting her break it!” Klaus said.

“Stop it!” Violet said quickly. “Guys, I know today was…” she choked herself off for a second, slight tears springing to her eyes, but she quickly shook her head to clear it and said, “I’m sorry. It’s… we’re all stressed, and angry, and… and sad, and tired, and I think we just… we need to sleep. Boys, can you take one of the kids with you? We won’t be able to fit.”

“We’ll take Soli.” Nick volunteered, grabbing her from Lilac.

“Glad you don’t play favorites.” Klaus muttered under his breath.

Sunny smiled for half a second, and then Lilac said, “Uh, they gave us some pajamas. You guys get changed, I can watch the… the kids.” she paused. “Hey, you know, if Edgar and Albert don’t mind, maybe we can… we can set up a blanket fort. Like we did the night before last. We can sit on some pillows and we- we don’t have the music box, but… we can sing, or-”

“I’d rather,” Klaus said quietly, “Just sleep for now, Li.”

Lilac paused, and then said, “Okay. Okay. We’ll just… go get changed, then. No more fighting, at least tonight, okay?”

Nobody bothered to answer, instead deciding to avoid each others’ eyes and go find the pajamas. Klaus placed the cylinder inbetween the mattresses, still staring at it carefully, and then after a second, he turned to Lilac.

“Li? Have you seen it before?”

Lilac glanced at it, and said, “No.”

What she didn’t say, was that while she couldn’t remember seeing it before, or the Eye on top, it looked… it looked familiar, somehow.

But she couldn’t say where she might’ve seen it before.

#asoue #asoue netflix #asoue movie #a series of unfortunate events #six baudelaires au #six baudelaires official fic #mine #my fanfic #the bad beginning

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hollowedrpg · 5 years

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CONGRATULATIONS, LINDSEY! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Arthur Weasley. I’m so happy to have an Arthur again so soon. He’s extremely important for some upcoming plots, and you do him such justice. I loved the way you write his relationship with Molly, and I can’t wait to see Arthur on the dash.

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

ooc.

name: lindsey

age: 24

preferred pronouns: she/her

timezone: cst

activity: to be honest, i’m not completely sure. i graduated from college (LITERALLY!) yesterday. lol so i can say that i will probably be extremely active as i have a ridiculous amount of time on my hands all of the sudden

how do you feel about your character dying?: i’m fine with it as long as i’m not getting the boot! although i would absolutely love to see molly’s return/discover that she’s actually dead before that point

anything else?: my graduation trip starts tomorrow and i will be gone until the 14th, but emily referred me here and i wanted to apply for arthur before he got snatched up! i can be around on mobile in the evenings until i return, and am happy to. i hope this doesn’t hinder my acceptance at all, but of course i completely understand if it does. if you need to, you can wait to make the decision until the 14th. thank you for understanding either way!

ic details.

full name: Arthur William Weasley

He admired his father from afar, struggling his whole life to feel heard and valued when his tongue always seemed to feel thick and twisted in his mouth. Their relationship was never perfect, but when Arthur had his first son, it seemed natural to pass down the name that was also his.

date of birth: 6 February, 1952

It had been snowing the day Arthur was born. He knew this because in the haste to get his wife to the hospital, William Weasley left their house without shoes on his feet. “Almost lost a toe, I did.” It was a story he grew up hearing, met in later life with eye rolls and sighs of irritation. It wasn’t until he experienced his pregnant wife going into labor in the middle of the night himself that he empathized with the panic he knew all too well.

former hogwarts house: Gryffindor.

Until he met Molly Prewett, Arthur would tell you it never completely made sense to him - why he was sorted into Gryffindor. He couldn’t get words out under the slightest amount of pressure, why would anyone think he could Roar with the Lions? Perhaps it was a sort of Grandfather Clause. He did, in fact, come from an exceedingly long line of Gryffindors. Did the Sorting Hat take pity on him and place him where his parents could finally feel some pride in their only son? Maybe. But then the day came that he tried to voice this fact and the response he got was instant. She came through a crowd like a bolt of lightning (shoving a few innocent bystanders to get to him) and looked up into his face with a look of angered determination. She told him he didn’t have to be loud to be brave. He pointed out the truth that she was quite noisy, herself. To this, Molly Prewett broke out in a grin that (though maybe a tad dramatic) Arthur would swear changed the course of his life indefinitely, and called him funny. And bold. Bold to call her, the argumentative eleven year old than she was, noisy. “See,” she’d said. “A Gryffindor.”

sexuality: straight, but with a jealous admiration for his sex.

gender/pronouns: cisgendered male, he/him

face claim change: no change! Sam Claflin is a lil peach.

more.

how do you interpret this character’s personality? how will you play them? include two weaknesses & two strengths.

Arthur is a quiet man with many thoughts, but few words. His intellect says nothing of his verbiage and though he doesn’t say much, his eyes tell all. There is a slight wonder that had he not been cursed with an abnormal tongue, he might not have had such telling looks. It is just that, however, a mere curiosity for he has no lasting desire to change who he is. Despite his earlier insecurities, he has come to accept himself for all his faults.

The true Gryffindor in Arthur Weasley came to light when he became a father in a world ravaged by war. He wanted to fight for his children, the woman he loves - the family that never questions his worth but sees him as wholly better than he could ever see himself. Everything clicked into place the first time he found himself face-to-face with someone who knew him from their days in school, someone who knew the jibes that would hurt him, and that he had a wife and children back home. He couldn’t place them behind the mask, but they knew his youngest son’s name. “Charlie, was it?” And something in Arthur snapped. He hadn’t realized just how protective he was of the things he considered precious until that moment, but it made perfect sense. What good is a father if he’s not willing to kill or be killed for his loved ones?

Part of the consuming love Arthur has for his family comes from the love he never really had for himself. In his youth, he didn’t care about it. He never focused on self-loathing, but neither did he see any good within himself. That is, as it always is, until Molly came blazing into his life, cementing her position to his left side. When he discovered that she reciprocated his love for her, he admired her all the more. How could she? But she was the smartest person he had ever met, so he wouldn’t dare question it - lest she realize she could do so much better than little old him.

The worry is consuming. He spends his entire day thinking. The gears in his brain churn faster than they ever have, taking his soul and ripping it to pieces. Is Molly still alive? Is she being tortured? Is she at peace, wherever she is? Did she realize how grand her life could be a simply fly the coop that disastrous day? He knows that last one is a bit off the rails, but when his mind is going, Arthur is lost to stop it. Bill might be off safely tucked inside Hogwarts Castle but the rest of his children are with him in Godric’s Hollow. At ten-years-old, Charlie, his most adventurous spawn, gets restless and likes to run off at odd times, causing Arthur’s heart to skip furtive beats. He’s never that far off, usually closely examining stray animals that want nothing to do with him, but Arthur fears one day he’ll be just beyond his reach in the midst of a tragedy (not unlike his mother was). Percy, who is six, is wise beyond his years and stays close to his father as if he can sense the anxiety distance brings. It is young Percy’s help that keeps Arthur from losing his mind over his rambunctious twins, who are barely four and already rebellious. His youngest song, Ron, who has entered the Terrible Twos, clings to Arthur whenever he is awake, making it rather difficult to give his six-month-old (and only daughter) the proper attention she needs. The worry never stops, the change in his daytime routine doing nothing to change that. The only time the young but aging father feels an ounce of serenity is when all the kids are asleep.

how has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?

In her absence, he sees her. Like a ghost, she hovers beside him in his loneliest moments. Molly, the greatest love of his life, reduced to a figment of his imagination. When he longs for her uplifting presence the most, she appears. The first few times, she didn’t say anything. She simply left him stunned, staring at her like he really had seen a ghost. These little visits left him haunted for days. He couldn’t sleep but neither could he bring himself to leave the bed they once shared. His mother stayed with the kids, taking care of them in both their parents’ absences. He thought it meant that she must be dead, but a bigger part of him refused to believe that. This wasn’t her genuine ghost. They had been so connected for years. He knew how she was feeling before he even entered the house after work night after night for years. Surely if she was really and truly dead, he would feel it in his soul. Then he’d managed to ask her what to do aloud, and suddenly she replied. He peered up from the deep pit of sheets their bed had become and took in the insufficient image of his missing wife. “Get up,” she had said, and though it didn’t sound exactly like her, he knew what she wanted. Even as a sad duplicate of the real thing, she wouldn’t let him neglect her children - their children.

where does this character currently stand? with those who wish to hide in godric’s hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? why?

With Molly missing, how is Arthur managing taking care of his children and continuing to be a part of the Order? Does he feel like he should remain a part of the Order?

These questions go hand-in-hand, so I grouped my answer to one longer explanation; I hope that’s okay!

Arthur gathered up his children, said goodbye to his quickly aging parents, and moved to Godric’s Hollow. Lupin had a point. They’d be hiding in plain sight because no one in their right mind would expect them to go where so much darkness remained. Dumbledore promised there would be Hogwarts-level protection on the village to ward off any more disaster. It felt like the smartest thing to do. The draw to continue fighting is there, but he has to think of his kids first. Their safety comes far before his own and the more his soul tells him to fight, the more he considers doing the hardest thing and sending them somewhere far away where they wouldn’t have to be a part of any of it. Time isn’t healing her absence, it is making it harder for Arthur to keep himself together. If he fights, will he finally find her? Will he uncover the truth, that maybe (God willing) she’s alive somewhere? And if she is, what torture could she possibly be enduring? Perhaps it’s better to hope that she’s dead, but the selfish side of Arthur knows what a fighter his wife is - and how lost he might be without her permanently. He remains a part of the Order in the hopes that he will be the first to hear of her whereabouts, determined not to give up just yet. He stays so that the concern and the kids don’t consume him completely. It’s not out of duty anymore. It has nothing to do with wanting a better life for his children. He needs to be the first to know when they finally reveal his biggest fear - that Molly Weasley is dead.

extra.

An extension of the Worry weakness;

Arthur tucks Percy into his sheets and lays a kiss to his sons head, says goodnight to Charlie who doodles in a journal in his adjourning bed across the room. As he leaves the room, he shuts off the light and pulls the door until it is almost closed. Through the crack in the door, he can see the dim yellow light of Charlie’s flashlight. He smiles because he can see his son in his minds’ eye, light tucked beneath his chin, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on drawing whatever strange animal he’s dreamed of the night before. In the next room, Arthur has to tell Fred and George to lay down and go to sleep, as he catches them playing in the dark. Fred leans over the top bunk, his small head upside down as he tries to grab the stuffed animal his brother, who is still laying on his back on the bottom bunk, has in his outstretched arm. Ron, in the lowered crib on the other side of the room, stirs restlessly. Arthur tucks the twins in tight, thinking he might invest in restraints - a joke that would’ve made Molly laugh boisterously, had she been there to hear it. He crosses the room to Ron and pulls the blanket up over his shoulders, tucking his stuffed rabbit into his small arms. His hand lingers on the warmth of his sons forehead - does he have a fever? If he does, they all will by in the morning and then Arthur will be dealing with six sick children for the next week. If Molly were there, they’d take it in stages, letting the other rest in the interim. It’s nearly impossible to deal with that many sick kids at one time, each needing something at different times through the day and night until they are back to normal. Arthur heaves a sigh and wanders out of the room, hoping the warmth came from a deep sleep and not an impending epidemic. He goes into his own bedroom at the end of the hall where a crib is pushed against the end of his bed - they couldn’t afford a four bedroom house, especially not with Arthur working half the time he used to.

He plops down on the corner of the bed, sleep pulling at his brain, begging his eyelids to close and he hears it. From inside the crib comes the slightest gurgling noise. He peels his eyes open and leans sideways to look over the bars. His small daughter is awake inside her bed, quite content with chewing on her wet fist. Her small feet kick at the air, her eyes blinking up at the mobile above her. It has little twinkling stars with reflective mirrors and colorful ribbons hanging from it. Arthur feels his throat tighten at the sight of her. The slight hair on her head curls like her mothers, her big, almond-shaped eyes are Molly’s precise color. She’s beautiful. Arthur heaves a deep, exhausted sigh and lays back on his bed, legs bent at the knees with his feet still on the floor. For the briefest of moments, he hadn’t been worried. He said goodnight to all of his children and reveled in the quiet. But the thought of Molly brings on a whole new wash of agony and he closes his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands into them. He would fall asleep just like that, sleeping deeply until the twins awoke him in the early hours of the morning already full of energy and ready to take on the day. But for a moment before sleep and a minute after waking up, he’d stop worry and simply lived.

#hp rp #rp #rpg #marauders rp #lsrpg #accepted

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imahugespoon · 6 years

Text

Staying

For: @anunknownnebula

Rating: T

Word Count : 1746

Hi @anunknownnebula, I'm @mximoffandoms and here is the fan fiction you requested! I'm not a very (if at all) experienced writer but I just wrote a super short story for you!

Hope you enjoy!! 😀

For the ScarletVision Exchange 2018

I remember that day when he arrived. I had just been settling in to my temporary hideout in Scotland when a knock came from my door. My heart immediately stopped. After inching the door open, I was greeted with a crooked smile and a simple, “H..hello, Wanda.” There he was. With his simple cashmere sweater and beautiful smile. Before I could say a word, I rushed him in before anyone could question why there was a purple man wandering around the area.

“I’ve been..worried about..you and I wanted to see how you were doing. Captain Rogers informed me of your whereabouts and so I left while Mr Stark was on a trip in India.”

I remember sitting in my living room, paralysed with shock. When I first saw Vision, he was like a stern robot, built to fulfill its master’s orders. And fulfill, he did by helping us to defeat Ultron. However, I had grown to see who he really was. A caring, gentle man. Who somehow managed to find me all the way in Scotland, after escaping from a high-security facility.

It had been two weeks since that day. Vision often stayed in my apartment for several days before returning to the compound. He kept me company and I was grateful for it. In fact, I yearned it. Every time that same familiar pattern of his knock resounded through my apartment, an enormous smile grew on my face. We spent so many days and nights talking that I could never even imagine dreary days in Scotland without him.

As I made him his tea, I could see from the corner of my eye that he was nervously pacing around the room. He had been worrying a lot about Stark and the Accords ever since Ross started hunting down all of us. Suddenly, I heard a groan of pain from across the room. Vision was hunched over, his hand covering the normally dim-coloured stone on his forehead as he started to light up.

I ran towards him and clutched his long, lanky arm.

“Viz, oh my god! Are you alright?”

“Wa...wanda”

He started to mutter several unintelligible words as i stroked his smooth hands. After a while, he started to cool down as he lay back on the couch, still gently touching that stone. The same stone that gave me these powers, the same stone that forced me to go through weeks and weeks of experiments and torture through Strucker.

“Wanda, I am terribly sorry, I...I don’t know what came over me. The stone...I think it was trying to tell me something.”

I was absolutely baffled. The stone had never shown any sort of reaction, let alone trying to tell Viz something. For the past 2 years, it just lay there, constantly nestled in his forehead.

“Well, it...gave life to my powers. Perhaps it could be sentient of some kind and this was a sign.” I commented, still rubbing his arm.

“Wanda, what if something terrible is coming? I don’t want anything bad to happen to yo...to anyone."

“VIz, I’m sure it may be fine. Who knows, it may just be a sign for something else.”

I gently held the side of his face with my palm, capturing every inch of the purple, vibranium-like texture in my brain. If VIz was right and something bad was coming, I wanted to remember every moment. As I looked in his eyes, I could see that he was still troubled. His eyes were so childlike and innocent, as if he had not yet fully experienced life. And yet, he seemed to me like one of the most mature people I had ever met. He stared back at me and my heart leapt for joy and it was beating faster than ever.

What was happening?

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

Then, there was the first time we kissed. Viz took me to the park after showing me his human ‘disguise’ for the first time. He chuckled, claiming that he would help him fit in. Though I do admit that he looked rather charming with his blond hair, I much preferred seeing his towering figure of purple vibranium. The figure that sheltered me through the stormy nights and always stayed up late just to talk to me. Whether it was after nightmares or just friendly chatter, I adored his company.

When we got to the park, Viz was so nervous that I could see his hands clammy up. It was absolutely adorable the way he cleared his throat before telling me how I felt for me. At that point, there was no point confessing as I had known for weeks now. And I felt exactly the same way. Viz made me feel special and looked at me differently, unlike the rest of the world. He made me feel grateful for my powers instead of feeling like they were a curse from Hell.

The way he constantly kissed my hands as a reminder of my gift made my heart skip. Thus, the moment he finally kissed me in the park in Edinburgh was truly magical. How our lips softly pressed together truly solidified our intense feelings to one another.

I could not think of a better way to end off that afternoon. However, Viz had other surprises up his sleeve. He dragged me to a cafe and sat me down before I could even utter a word of objection. Before I could realise it, a single plate was plopped on the table in front of me.

“Is that Paprikash?”

The ever familiar paprika scent wafted through my nose. Thinking back of those days when my mother would make this for me and Pietro, it brought tears to my eyes.

“Wanda, are you alright? Did I do something wrong?” Viz immediately sat down opposite me, holding my hand. Sniffling back tears, I sat there stroking his smooth hand.

“No, everything is perfect. Just perfect.”

Heading back to the apartment, I witnessed once again the miraculous change that Viz made from his ‘human’ form to his normal form, the Vision that I was used to. After making some popcorn, we snuggled up on the coach for our weekly movie evenings. Today, we were watching one of my favourite movies, The Princess Diaries.

As the movie progressed, Vision slowly moved his arm around my shoulders. I calmly relaxed in his arms, shifting closer to him. I knew that he was still getting used to this whole relationship but I wanted to let him know that I was fine and I wanted it too. Suddenly, I saw the sudden glow of the stone and Vision let out a grunt of pain.

I quickly turned off the television, turning towards him. The stone was still incessantly glowing as I placed my hands on his cheeks. Vis slowly opened his eyes and I could see that the pain had gradually increased although he had better learned to deal with it since the last time.

As he took my hand and lightly planted a kiss on my palm, it still gave me flashbacks of the time I...I controlled him. I made him succumb to my very command as he sunk through many floors of the Avengers compound. To this day, I still regret it. But, I had an idea.

Without even thinking of it, I instinctively placed my palm near his forehead. Scarlet tendrils twisted in coils as they stretched towards his forehead, finally latching themselves onto it. All of a sudden, a rush of emotions flooded my body. Feelings of guilt...and love. Immense love, like the sun that lights up a dark day and in that light, a single image materialised.

It looked like me. I realised that I could feel Viz, I felt him in my mind, my entire being. I desperately tried to reach deep down into his mind to find out the root of his pain. However, instead of finding torturous pain, I found beauty.

I gradually opened my eyes and temporarily severed our connection. Vision was in utter shock, his mouth hanging open.

“Wanda, how did you know that you could do that?”

“I...I don’t know. I think that because of the relation between your stone and powers, I just knew that I could do that. I tried to figure out what was causing all your pain but I didn’t feel nothing. I just…”

“Just what, Wanda?” Vis asked, grabbing my hand.

“I just felt you.”

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The next few times Vision had this sudden pain, he had learned to control it better. He still could not figure out what the stone was trying to tell him but he learned to put it aside. Instead, we spent every free moment we possibly could together, for we knew sooner or later something was coming.

However, I never knew that after 1 year of the recurring signs and visions, it would come to this.

“Tell me what you feel.”

“I just feel you.” And it was true. However many times Vis constantly asked me to look inside his head, no matter how desperately, I could never feel for anything. I just felt him but that was all I needed in my life. Since I was young, I was constantly faced with obstacles and I could never catch a breath. Back then, I had Pedro to help me deal with it but after he...died, I felt alone. Vis brought me true peace, even if it was only for two years.

When he asked me to stay with him in Edinburgh, his words constantly rang in my head. Although I knew that that was what I wanted, I was still conflicted. I loved our relationship and I treasured every single moment that we spent together but I was still unsure if I was truly ready to take that step. The many risks I had taken in my life had all turned into terrifying disasters and I did not want this to be one too.

Thinking back at it, a mere 10 hours ago, none of that mattered when we had a bigger problem.

“Drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0.”

“I hope you’re right about this, or we’re gonna land a lot faster than you want to.”

I glance up to see Cap and Sam hunched over the control panel of the Quinjet. Looking back at Vision, I place my hand on his chest, where the faint scar is still visible.

"I love you. "

#scarletvisionexchange2018 #sve2018 #marvel #mcu #vision #wandamaximoff #wanda #scarletvision #wandavision #fanfiction

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periperimommy79-blog · 6 years

Text

Don't give up

This is my first scribble - knowing me it'll be a novel sized scribble, apologies -, and it will be about my breastfeeding journey in the UK.

Nothing I write should be considered medical or professional advice, it is only my personal experience and loads - no, really, LOADS - of researching the internet (even translating Spanish, Italian, French and German articles - thanks Google). And of course my final conclusion on the matter. Which is: do not panic or stress, relax and it will fall into place. Emotions are more important than I believed before. Mind over matter? Sure. But heart and soul over mind. Always. So do not despair as it will hold you back.

My journey began in May 2013 when I've truly understood love, holding my baby girl for the first time❤. I was set on breastfeeding and never gave it a second thought. I believed it was the natural way, so formula feeding was a choice for those who did not WANT to breastfeed.

5 days after her arrival we were back in hospital as my little angel lost over 16% of her birthweight. When we talking of a 6.8 lb baby that is a lot.

She wasn't getting fed enough, probably was getting some as she managed to stay hydrated... just above the ouchy line, but not enough to sustain her weight.

So we were told to supplement after offering the breast. She needed to get stronger to be able to suck properly, as feeding on the breast takes a lot of energy, especially if the reward is near nothing.

I was devastated. It felt like I've failed my baby. I kept beating myself up for starving my child. Up till today when I look at her early pictures my heart goes out to that baby with so much pain and sadness in her tiny eyes. I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself for not pressing harder when my instinct told me something was wrong after 2 days. As a new mum I was not given credit by the seasoned professionals visiting us every day for 5 days when I said she sleeps too much, she doesn't eat only goes on for a few sucks then falls asleep. Her latch was checked and seemed good, so I was labelled a worrier. Until the day 5 weight check when our world collapsed.

Not for a moment did I want her to starve any longer but I also wanted her to get breast milk. So I've followed professional advice. Increased and increased then increaed the formula again and kept offering the breast before each feed. Also followed the set time for feeding, every 3 then 4 hours, and so on as she grew.

Tried expressing after feeds as well, but it was a disaster and disheartened me even further. The lack of milk when expressing made me accept that I am one of those women who just can't produce milk. It happens. It's not my fault. It's just how it is. I gave exclusive breast feeding my best shot and by offering the breast until she was 6 months old I did give her the "best of both worlds".

5 years down the line I can see where I went wrong. In November 2018 my little man arrived. He was a surprise: we were trying for nearly 5 years with no luck, then decided it isn't happening for us, sold all baby and toddler stuff. Was about to sell the nursery furniture when we found out about him 😊 everything else had to be bought again 🙈

What did I do different?

1. With my girl we had help, honest help, but untrained and unexperienced help from lovely people. If you want to breastfeed and it's not working, having professional help is important. Finding the right one is key. With our son we had picked up on the "not enough milk" on day 3. Again, started formula topups. We were upping it to 30ml each feed and he wa gaining well so we stopped the topups. Then weighed him 3 days after. He lost weight again. Back to formula. Gaining again, decrease formula. Baby lost weight again. Hospital as his weight is up and down. We know why but go in anyway. So luckily we went. And met 3 amazing and experienced feeding specialists.

Turns out if you look at an already latched baby feeding you will not be able to establish if the latch is good or not. You'll need a feed observed from start to finish to tell. He wasn't latching properly. So with help and instructions he was latching fine after 5 hours of trying. He fed with big gulps for 10 minutes on each breast then followed with lots of sucks and fewer swallows on each. We were in there for 2 days, BF, express, topup. I felt more sure of myself when we left and very greatful for "my 3 angels" and their knowledge.

2. Have support. With my girl I had the understanding and backing of our family - I was shaken of what happened and feeling an utter failure. But I was not pressing breastfeeding, scared of her losing weight again I accepted formula as the only way.

With my boy I decided I will not give up as I did with my girl. Unfortunately my partner and our family did not believe I can breastfeed and my partner was very agressivly against it - being told I'm selfish for trying to breastfeed, that I rather starve him than accept that I will never have milk and the best one: he'll call social services if I don't give up the idea of not giving him formula - not the support I needed.

His whole family gave me the cold stare for carrying on and even my own mother said just give him the bottle and spend the time gained with my daughter. Emotional pressure...hmmm, mother knows best. Good thing I'm now a mother too, so took the tiny gold out of this comment and spoke to my girly, explaining what and why is mommy doing what she's doing. I swear that little girl is more supportive than some of the adults close to me.

So I ignored all negativity, got courage from 3 of my friends and told my other half if he can't be supportive then at least keep his mouth shut and stay away from me as stress has serious negative effects on my supply. He stayed away and kept his mouth shut and I've carried on. It was hard times. To carry on and not give in. Even harder that the people I expected to back me had turned their back.

So surround yourself with people who raise your spirits, who will assure you and make you believe that you can do it. Ignore the nay sayers. It is your baby and body, as long as you're both safe you call the shots and do what feels right.

3. Research. Knowledge is power. Gather as much info, as many tips and methods as possible. Watch videos, read, go on forums and ask questions. Find groups. Shape all info so it fits the two of you.

With my daughter I just accepted what I was told by the professionals in the hospital and after we left it. I did not know of other moms who struggled but succeeded. I did not know there are ways to try to increase milk supply. I did not know I was breaking the demand and supply ring by increasing formula and not boobie time.

With my boy I was constantly reading, watching, getting in touch.

What worked for us? These:

1. Did not follow rules of timed feeding.

Yes, I've kept to the 3 hrs with him, but only that I didn't let him go longer than 3 hrs between feeds. Not even at night. Not until he was gaining weight well. If he wanted to eat 30 minutes after he came off the breast then I've put him back on.

Ever heard of supply and demand? SOOOO TRUE! When your baby is sucking for 3-5 hours non stop (cluster feeding)? Or eating for 1 hr then 40 minutes break and another hour session aaaand repeat? They just ordering their meals ahead. Telling your body they need more. Let them.

When we were topping up with over 30ml formula, I did it in smaller portions during his cluster feeding periods which were always evening meals - 60ml topup: 2x30ml or 3x20ml and put him back on the boob in between. It is time consuming, but works. Sometimes he refused the last portion cuz he was too tired/full. If it was only one meal, I let him skip that formula amount.

2. I started expressing only after his last feed before his big sleep each night. It saves time during the day and I can sleep more during the night. It is app. the same time each day, so my body is expecting it.

Now I can get 3x as much out as what I've staryed with. He drinks this still as a topup after his last meal of the day the next evening. Past few days he doesn't even drink it all and it makes me happy! They're hungrier in the evenings - getting filled up for longer time to sleep - and if he refuses his favourite meal with the easy access (he prefers breast milk over formula, but prefers the bottle to the breast as it is easier) must mean he had enough already 😀.

3. I had looked at pictures of how my breast is built up, where he needs to press to get the milk going.

I finally understood that I did have milk, even with my daughter - she kept sucking for 6 months and never took more than 90ml of formula, looking back I was such a fool not to realise that she wouldn't have gained weight as well as she did on 360ml of formula a day - they just could not get to it efficiently.

Once I worked out where his mouth needs to be on my aerola I looked for ways to put it in. It sounds funny, but my aerola is rather large and his cute mouth is so little, so he needed help to "stuff it in". Now he doesn't need it as he learnt to do it himself as well as his mouth is a bit bigger.

4. Made myself realise, understand and trust that I have enough milk for my baby and stop worrying over it.

I looked for proof and reminded myself every time I started to doubt myself again (maybe because a look from other half, or baba wanting to eat and eat - not because I did not have enough now but because he will need more soon so he is ordering) that I have milk. So when he was gaining on 420ml formula a day until he was 7 weeks old I convinced myself and reduced the amount to 360ml. Then 300ml. Always checked his gain. Now we're 180ml a day and reducing. And he is gaining.

It was hard not to increase formula as suggested by some people, but I knew he is safely gaining and worse case senario he will not gain enough, but he will not lose weight again, even if my supply decreases or can't keep up with his demand.

5. Stopped timing our feeds. I take note of the bottles still - will do until they're out of the picture -, but not of how long he is on each breasts. It is not important. I'll put him on when he asks. And because he is gaining he will ask when he is hungry because he has the energy to let me know. He will now not sleep if he's hungry no matter what I do. Dare to go shopping too long and the roof comes down!

This way feeding feels natural, not a must do thing which commands my day and full attention. I even enjoy it now, that I relax. No clocking in and out 😊 honestly? This is one of the best feelings other than seeing the numbers go up on the scale and down in the bottle.

Do not get me wrong. I have nothing against formula, we're lucky that is available. I do not judge anyone who chose to formula feed their LO. Mixed feeding has it's advantages as well. Not the way I am doing it now, but when you replace meals with a bottle to gain some time off boob duty.

But to me exclusive breastfeeding is the end game, so at mo formula is an unwanted must.

I will stop here for now, my eyelids are getting glued at each blink.

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puppy-byun · 7 years

Text

Say my name like it's a bad word (Wow)

Sehyoon/you, rated M, nsfw

Word count: 9k+

Show me what you got Let it roll right off your tongue Hit me with your best shot Tell me off, tell me off Hit me where it hurts Say my name like its a bad word

Kim Sehyoon makes your life impossible ever since he walked in. Because as soon as you say his name, he walks away.

The sofa you were slouched on was clearly well sat on, the dark leather smooth and soft under your exposed legs. You sank into the couch a little more, slumping into the soft leather with your hand tightly wrapped around a half full glass. Tiny beads of water were dripping between your fingers. The ice cubes in the drink had molten a while ago, with how long ago you had grabbed it and the heat of the room full of people. You didn’t care. You weren’t planning on finishing the drink, unless your frustration would become too much to bear. It wasn’t entirely unlikely.

But there was no point in getting drunk when you’d gain nothing from it but would end up with a hangover the next day. It wasn’t that you hated parties, especially not home parties thrown by people in your year. They were mostly fun and alcohol was always a nice option after a horribly stressful week, so you had always welcomed them on the weekends. They had just become a drag ever since you had laid eyes on Kim Sehyoon.

The dark haired boy who had caught your attention was a dance major. Junhee and Byeongkwan had told you so, but even if they hadn’t you could have easily guessed. He seemed to have a huge preference for loose collared shirts and tank tops that showed of his lithe arms. He wasn’t buff, but he clearly was well trained, the type of body only dancers who poured all their time into their training had.

You wouldn’t even have seen him in the first place if it weren’t for Junhee and Byeongkwan dragging him to parties and introducing him to you.

The memory sent a bitter taste in your mouth.

Even the first glance at him had rendered you utterly breathless (and Junhee had smirked as if he had known exactly how you would react to his friend). You had managed to keep it together enough to introduce yourself normally, even though Junhee had been silently laughing at you from behind Sehyoons shoulder the whole time. Sehyoon had either ignored him or hadn’t noticed, but either way he had introduced himself so silently you had had trouble to catch his name.

He hadn’t said anything else and frankly you had struggled not making an idiot of yourself, so instead Junhee and Byeongkwan had jumped at the opportunity to meddle.

“You probably haven’t seen Sehyoon around campus as much as us”, Junhee had explained, a mischievous grin playing at his lips. “Or not at all.” Byeongkwan added, although his expression foretold a little less trouble.

“It’s because he practically lives in the practice room. Wouldn’t even need a dorm. He’s way too devoted to his dancing, I mean look at his thighs, they give me issues.”

Unnecessarily, you actually followed his finger pointing at Sehyoon’s legs. It was dark at the party with only a few half lidded giving any light, but not dark enough for you to not see just how good Sehyoon looked. You had always been weak for dancers, but he looked exceptionally breathtaking. There was no doubt as to how much time he spent on training, not when his thighs looked so well formed. Your thoughts immediately went to how it would feel to dig your nails into his skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering whether he would still be so silent if you were on your knees for him, caressing those thighs while sucking him off.

“I don’t live there, I just don’t see the point in getting wasted every week.”

His voice, as calm and silent as it was, was still enough to bring you back to the here and now. Your eyes flipped back up to him, heat rising to your cheeks at the way you had thought about him.

“Don’t worry, Jun keeps nagging me about being ‘too icy’ too.”

You had had the urge to consolidate him, but instead you just seemed to be feeding into the boy’s hands. “Yeah, that’s very true. No one’s ever blown me off as coldly as you did. Actually thinking about it. No one’s ever blown me off.”

You snorted, forgetting for a second to be mad at him for bringing you in this situation.

“Anyway-“, you gulped, knowing that snorting at him only brought you into an even worse situation. “I’ve never seen you hook up at a party-“ Junhee added, and you felt about ready to punch him if only to shut him up. It did nothing to stop the heat from rising to your heat. Your only hope was that it was too dark for anyone to see. “and I’ve never seen Sehyoon hook up at all. So you two make a perfect fit.”

A groan rose from your throat and you threw a glance at Sehyoon, hoping he would feel about as annoyed as you did. Instead, his eyebrows were furrowed – you only now noticed how sharp and defined they were. He didn’t even look annoyed. You couldn’t quite point the look on his face, but the way he stepped away from you told you enough. It felt a little like a punch in the guts, even more so when he turned his full attention towards Jun, as if you weren’t even part of the talk. “Thank you but I’ll skip.”

Junhee’s jaw dropped about as much as your heart did, only he wasn’t the one left to feel like the stupidest person in the room.

Despite the embarrassment you weren’t able to stop yourself from falling harder for Sehyoon and it didn’t help that Junhee and Byeongkwan kept dragging him to parties even after that disaster. So whenever you went to one you could be sure he would be there as well. Your only consolidation was that as uninterested as he seemed in parties, he seemed even more uninterested in any girls. It was the only thing that kept you from digging yourself a hole whenever he laid his eyes on your for even a moment.

You had tried so many times to get his attention, but every time you got enough courage to actually talk to him and forget how coldly he had blown you off, he had fled after a few sentences.

You hadn’t expected tonight to go any different. Of course Junhee and Byeongkwan had dragged Sehyoon to this party, and of course a small part of you still hoped he would at least just talk to you shortly. But of course, Sehyoon had not even greeted you, despite you being friends with his friends.

With an angry grumble you set the glass to your lips after all, finishing the drink in one big gulp. You pulled a face, the liquid so watered down by the molten ice cubes it tasted more like water than anything else.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

You ripped your gaze away from Sehyoon checking his phone, looking up at Junhee almost guiltily. You had hoped he hadn’t noticed your pathetic, longing gaze but his shit-eating grin told you he had. His blonde hair was in a wavy middle part, framing the sharp angles of his face. His eyes were blazing with joy and you chided yourself inwardly for not being into Junhee instead. It would make your life so much easier.

You turned in your seat, consciously forcing yourself to turn your back to Sehyoon so you couldn’t be tempted to let your eyes wander to him instead.

“What tells you I’m not?” you quipped, causing Junhee to chuckle and cross his arms over his chest. “I’m fulfilling the required party quota, no?” you continued, nodding at your now empty glass. “I drank some alcohol, I danced a bit when I came, and now I’m even doing some small talk.”

Junhee laughed, plopping down on the armrest of the sofa. He lazily draped his legs across your lap, getting himself comfortable.

You couldn’t help yourself, your head snapping towards Sehyoon’s direction on instinct, making sure he was still focused on his phone. Junhee’s grin was even bigger now and you groaned and tried to shove his feet off your lap.

Junhee grabbed your hands, stopping you with a laugh. “Honey, don’t worry, he’s not looking.” For a second you contemplated playing dumb, but decided that you had been way too obvious already to pretend otherwise. “Tell me something I don’t know yet.” You grumbled angrily instead.

Junhee patted your shoulder empathetically, offering you his glass. You took a sip, pulling a face.

“That’s gross what the hell?” you spluttered, handing his drink back vigorously. “That’s vodka, we’re not at a garden party.”

“Tell that to Byeongkwan when he pulls you out of the toilet later.” You chided him warmly. “I’m a grown boy, I can hold my liquor. And Byeongkwan vanished, like, an hour ago. That’s what I can rely on buzzkill Sehyoon on for.”

You snorted, this time consciously throwing a glance at the dark haired boy who was slumped in his seat, eyes still drawn to his phone.

“What is he even doing, if he’s such an avid texter why doesn’t he try actually talking to people for a change?” you couldn’t keep the frustration from your voice after weeks of pining after him with no success at all.

“He’s monitoring his dance practices.” Junhee replied dryly and you whipped your head around, staring at the blonde in disbelief. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Junhee chuckled and sipped his drink, before shaking his head slightly. “I’m not. I really don’t know why he allows Byeongkwan and me to drag him to these parties at all. At least he makes for a great designated driver.”

You punched Junhee in the shoulder with a laugh, almost making him fall backwards off the sofa. “That’s not fair Jun, you guys forced him here.”

Junhee inclined his head, holding his glass out to you. “We didn’t though. We used to, but really he’s just coming along by himself now.”

You drew your eyebrows together in confusion, Junhee’s words ghosting through your mind. If Sehyoon came on his own accord, then why did he never engage in any conversation, or actually enjoy the party. You had tried sober, you had tried drunk, timidly or full on flirty, he had never exchanged much more than a few emotionless words with you before finding an excuse to flee. All it had done was to make you fall harder.

You hadn’t noticed you were staring again until you felt Junhee poking your cheek to get your attention.

“He got you bad, hasn't he?”

You sighed, now gladly taking the glass from his hand. “I’m not going to say anything. You’re just going to tease me about it.”

Junhee grinned almost proudly, lightly pressing his feet into your thighs in protest. “I’m feeling weirdly soppy right now. Maybe you were right about the vodka, but entertain me.”

You sighed, leaning your head down on his lap with a heavy-hearted gaze towards the black haired boy across the room.

“He’s really, really pretty. Like, insanely so. When you guys are speaking with him he’s so light-hearted and vibrant and I just want him to smile at me like that once. But he just doesn’t give a shit.” You sat in silence for a second, the base causing the floor to vibrate under the sofa.

“You know, sometimes I’m really glad you didn’t fall for me because you’re such a disgusting romantic.” Junhee was patting your hair and you knew there was no malicious intent behind his words. He had started joking about wanting to hook up with you ever since before you fell for Sehyoon and you both knew you had terrible compatibility. Feeling too pitiful to react to his jibes you ignored his words instead. Before Junhee could say anything, or laugh at how sappy you were, you let the words bubble over your lips. “He’s not gay, is he?!”

The part of you that had been rejected by Sehyoon almost wished he was, but Junhee started laughing so hard the second the words were out, you knew it wouldn’t be. “I cannot wait to tell him about this. Byeongkwan’s going to loose it. He’s never going to stop bringing this up.” You quickly jumped up, bringing your hands down against Junhee’s chest in an attempt to keep him sitting on the armrest of the sofa just in case he was planning on telling Sehyoon right now. “No! Junhee, oh my god, you have to promise you won’t tell him, he already hates me as it is!”

Junhee was still laughing, trying to catch his breath and not fall off the armrest from shaking so much. When it seemed like you wouldn’t get a reply you leant over the table instead, ignoring his laughing fit and instead grabbed his glass to down it in two big gulps.

Before you could empty the glass it was pulled from your mouth and you almost spilled it all over yourself, barely swallowing the drink in time. You were wiping your chin, ready to flip Jun off and ask him whether he had gone mental when you noticed his mischievous grin turned surprisingly not towards you. You followed his line of sight, still dabbing at your chin and trying to get rid of all the drops hanging there. You stopped in the middle of your movements, your hand awkwardly placed on your chin.

Sehyoon was standing in front of you. He had his lips in a very, very slight smile, so slight it barely even counted as one, his eyebrows raised at the picture in front of him. Jun was still grinning brightly, as if he was having the most fun he had ever had, and you felt like you looked as stupid as you possibly could.

Praying you didn’t still have some alcohol on your face you cleared your throat, looking helplessly at Jun. It was Sehyoon however who saved you from silence. He was still looking down at the two of you sitting on the sofa, his black bangs hanging into his eyes. Finally, he moved his eyes from you and focused on Jun. You physically felt some of the tension leave your body.

“I’m not going to wingman for you again Jun, ask Byeongkwan instead.” He deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest. It was enough to make you gulp hard. Sehyoon wasn’t trained or buff, but his whole body was so deliciously formed. It wasn’t just his thighs that always seemed to be straining his pants no matter what he wore. His chest and arms seemed lean as well and the thought of it made your head swim.

The way he was standing, his whole body signalling dismissal almost made you forget that he didn’t like you. You wanted to know what it would feel like to have him hold you, to have him run his fingers down your back and dig them into your skin. You wanted Sehyoon to push you up against the wall, leaving you to wrap your legs around his thighs and pull on his black hair until he moaned for you.

Jun snorted, harshly ripping you away from your thoughts. They left an uncomfortable heat between your legs in their wake. You crossed them, clenching your thighs together and willing yourself to focus on the conversation again before you were being too obvious.

“I really don’t need a Wingman, Sehyoon, thank you very much.” Junhee sounded almost offended and you couldn’t hold back a chuckle. His pride was so easy to hurt, and Sehyoon seemed to enjoy doing that just as much as you usually did. His eyes met yours and for a second you thought he would laugh with you, but then his expression turned impassive again.

“Anyway. You’re a party pooper and this girl here is bored.” Junhee explained, gesturing to you as if it wasn’t obvious who he meant. Sehyoon’s gaze shot up, his eyes wide and you could have killed Jun then and there. You pinched his leg angrily, making him jump a little and glare at you.

Sehyoon’s eyes fell down to your legs as well and to how Junhee had draped his all over yours, basically trapping you on the sofa. “She doesn’t look bored. Or are you saying you bore her?”

You were torn between kissing Sehyoon for his jibes and punching Jun in the face. He really looked awfully possessive, even though he knew very well you wouldn’t let anything happen between the two of you.

“It’s not like-“ you quipped in, desperately wanting to clear up the situation but Jun interrupted you once again. “She’s still continuing to very harshly blow me off, as much as it hurts me to admit it.” Jun stated. You let out a breath of relief, glad he wasn’t playing some even more stupid game than he already was. “Apparently she really likes that other guy who’s a totally oblivious, boring, buzzk-“

It was your turn to slap your hand over his mouth in a panicked attempt to stop him before he said too much.

“I’m blowing you off because your privates are like a heavily frequented train station and I’m not a fan of public transports.”

You caught Sehyoon’s chortle before he could swallow it, your chest warming at the thought that you had made him laugh. Jun had begun licking your palm but you didn’t care. Your whole attention was on the black haired dancer who was looking at you still, biting his bottom lip to keep his amusement at bay. His lips were naturally almost plush, and they way he was digging his teeth into them made everything but the thought of biting down on them vanish. You almost whimpered, embarrassed at yourself for being so utterly wrecked by just the thought of kissing and sucking Sehyoon’s plush lips until he begged you to stop.

You finally reacted when Junhee pulled on a strand of your hair. You yelped, covering your heated cheeks with the hand that Jun hadn’t been licking. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire and you prayed to everyone listening that you didn’t look as desperate for Sehyoon as you felt.

“That was really disgusting.” Junhee dryly commented, removing his legs from your lap with great emphasis. You squirmed uncomfortably. You felt more exposed in front of Sehyoon than you ever had before. For the first time, it was you who fled from the conversation.

You looked at your phone, checking the text message you had gotten from Jun earlier. He had asked you to meet up with him, ordering you all the way to the dance studios across campus. It had taken you over 15 minutes to walk there. To make it all worse it was raining outside and you were hoping he had a very good reason to order you around campus, but now that you were definitely in front of the correct training room you heard music blasting from it. ‘If that asshole is going to make me wait now’ you grumbled, pushing your phone into your back-pocket, ready to storm into the practice room with less than nice words on your lips for him. You stopped dead in your tracks as soon as your hands had pressed open the door, your eyes landing on the black haired boy like a magnet drawn to him. You almost yelped, pulling the door closed as fast and silent as possible. You leant against it, your heart beating rapidly in fear that he had heard or seen you. You were about to text Junhee and ask him where the hell he was when you realized that he most likely wouldn’t be coming. He knew how much you liked Sehyoon and he had wanted you to run into him on purpose.

With an angry groan you pushed yourself off the door, ready to find the blonde and give him a thorough verbal lashing. That was when the song changed, the base weakening. The doors were keeping the sound in well, but not well enough for you not to recognize the first couple of notes from 2PM’s My House. Your hand was still on the door handle and instead of storming away you found yourself pressing it down slowly until the door swung open without so much as a push. You stopped it when it was open just enough for you to have a good view into the room.

You knew you shouldn’t be doing it, you knew you should just walk away and scold Junhee for even bringing you in this situation, but your hand was still tightly wrapped around the door handle, keeping it steadily open despite how bad you were shaking. All your rational thoughts died instantly when Sehyoon started to move, recalling each step of the routine he was doing flawlessly.

He started off fairly harmless, until he suddenly dropped his weight on one leg, crossing his hands in front of his crotch and waving down, down, until he was almost on his knees. You sucked in a silent breath, cursing yourself for not having closed the door. Sehyoon didn’t notice, too engrossed in the dance. His brows were drawn tight in concentration and you could see his skin glistening with sweat. He kept on dancing the choreo, not misstepping a single beat. Your hand was wrapped too tightly around the door handle. You were sure your knuckles stood out white but you couldn’t bear to look away. Every wave of his body was hypnotizing, the way his hands moved over his own body forcing you to swallow your whimpers. He was torturing you with his every move, and you felt like you were frozen in place.

You couldn’t move away even if you wanted to, not with the way he was brushing his hand through his sweaty black hair before moving it across his neck and running two fingers down the length of his body, stopping at his crotch. You had never seen body waves as sensual and smooth as his. The white shirt he was wearing was sticking to his chest with sweat, and the loose sweatpants were doing nothing to hide his thighs.

You almost choked on your own spit when he suddenly grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling down so you caught a glimpse of his collarbones, perfectly glistening from his sweat.

He pressed his arm over his eyes, his palm facing forward, fingers curling.

With a snapping thrust he dropped his hand, pushing his hips upwards. You wanted to close your eyes and take a deep breath, but instead you found yourself not daring to breathe, not wanting to miss a second.

He slowly moved himself into a standing position again, facing the mirror sideways, his hand outstretched. He was pointing towards the mirror, urging someone who wasn’t there towards him. You felt dizzy and uncomfortably heated, surprised you could still hold yourself upright. He was focused on his own form in the mirror, his gaze so intense you felt your own heat sink from your cheeks to your stomach.

Sehyoon bit down on his lip, hooking his thumb into the band of his sweatpants, when suddenly you felt the door pushed open so vigorously you lost your already weak footing, stumbling right into the practice room with a loud yelp.

You managed to catch your step, saving yourself from falling on the floor face first, but Sehyoon had turned around to stare at you with an open mouth, his perfect eyebrows dawn together in a confused frown.

Before you could assess what had happened, you felt a familiar grip on your arm, pulling you upwards with a laugh.

“You alright there, honey? Feeling a little lightheaded?”

You threw an angry glance at Junhee, hissing through your teeth and pushing his hand off you. You quickly checked on Sehyoon, relieved he didn’t seem angry at the two of you for interrupting him.

“Sorry for barging in, Yoonie, the door was open” Jun chuckled with a mischievous glance at you. You ignored him, ignoring his jibes in the hopes Sehyoon wouldn’t catch the meaning. Turning away from Jun you swallowed your nervousness and focused on Sehyoon instead, shortly drawing in your breath. You were caught under the intensity of his gaze. He was breathing heavily from the dancing, small beads of sweat trickling down the side of his face. His skin was glistening and his hair was sticking to the sides of his forehead.

You let your eyes trail along the fine bow of his dark eyebrows, the way his neck was moving when he swallowed. You couldn’t help but notice his collar barely moved with his breathing because it was stuck to his skin with sweat.

“If you guys keep up this tension I’m going to need a cold shower” Jun dryly threw in, snapping you back into reality. You felt the blood rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment, trying hard to resist the urge to cover your eyes.

“Shut up, Jun”, you hissed in his direction, trying to regain your composure but he knew just how flustered you were. “You were amazing Sehyoon” you added, seizing your moment of courage after he had as good as rejected you so many times. “It didn’t seem like there was single step off, I’ve hardly ever seen anyone dance so smoothly-“

You only noticed your mistake when he interrupted you, stumbling over his own words. “You watched me dance?!”

You felt sick the second you registered you had exposed yourself and basically admitted to watching him dance without him knowing. For some reason, you felt so ashamed you couldn’t even bear looking at him. You dropped your gaze to your feet, pressing your nails into your palms hard enough to surely leave little crescent shaped marks.

“I wasn’t…” you started, searching for the right words, but Jun was having none of it. “Yup, she was practically drooling.”

With a frustrated stomp of your feet you turned around without glancing up at Sehyoon for even a moment, throwing a dirty glare at Jun instead. You wanted to tell him what an asshole he was, but you were scared if you opened your mouth you would break down in tears from shame and anger, so instead you stormed past him, making sure you bumped your shoulder into his side as hard as possible before you angrily banged the door to the practice room shut.

You had never had a Saturday night as bad as the one you were currently trying to kill.

It wasn't even midnight yet, and you didn't feel tired enough to go to bed, but the minutes were crawling by so slowly you had started cursing every little thing you could think of.

Instead of using a quiet night in your room for your homework, you found yourself scrolling through social media and sulking on your bed. Your roommate was out - everyone seemed to be out except for you - and it wasn't even that you were bored. What made you so sulky was the fact that one Kim Byeongkwan had decided to throw a party five days after Junhee had made sure you couldn't show your face in front of Sehyoon for the next couple of months.

Usually, attendance was almost obligatory for you at these things, you had never missed one. Naturally you had already received a bunch of text messages from Jun asking where you were and - eventually - complaining about the horrible company and how he really had hoped you'd finally hook up with him tonight and you left him hanging.

You had merely scoffed at that. He knew just fine why you were hiding in your dorm instead of getting rid of all the stress you had collected since that run in with Sehyoon.

The knock on your door was so silent you almost didn't hear it. You did a double take - as if that would tell you anything - and when another hesitant knock came you put your phone down with a scowl.

"I'm not home Jun!"

You drew your eyebrows together, glaring at the door so hard he could surely feel it. You didn't even consider opening to door for him. You were so embarrassed and angry you had avoided him all week.

With a sigh you picked up your phone again, hoping he would just leave you alone. Instead, another knock sounded from the door, this time more decided than before.

With a groan at his insistence you got up, placing both your hands on the wooden door. "I said: leave. Go away. Party. Shove your tongue down someone's throat. I don't care but leave me alone!"

There was a snicker audible in the other side of the room that made you pause halfway back to your bed. Junhee didn't snicker like that.

Momentarily forgetting all your inhibitions and throwing open the door, you barely caught a glimpse of the smile on Sehyoons face and it almost made your heart jump out of your chest. Then it died and you barely stopped from throwing the door shut in his face. It almost slipped from your fingertips when you noticed his eyes quickly jumping up to your face again. You became acutely aware of the cold breeze from the hallways playing around your naked skin and the fact that you were only wearing a shirt, and not a particularly long one at that.

The slight rosy colour creeping on his plumb cheeks told you he had noticed too. You almost felt an urge to apologize, somehow immediately convinced you were annoying him again. You instinctively pulled the shirt down with your free hand, still not saying a word to him.

You were both awkwardly staring at each other at a loss for words until he cleared his throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"You look good."

It should have made you flustered, but you were so on edge that instead you broke out in an ugly fit of giggles. You noticed the confusion on his face and held up your hand in apology.

"I mean, thank you, but. Literally every single time you've seen me was better than tonight, and now you tell me?"

His sheepish grin made your nerves flutter even more and you weren't sure how you were still standing there without having a nervous breakdown.

Sehyoon pulled back his hair from his face, momentarily robbing you of your breath when your eyes fell onto his sharp, perfectly angled face. There was a small, shy smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and you couldn't tear your eyes away from how radiant he looked to you.

You found yourself at a loss for words. You were barely able to do much more than stare at him, actually standing in your doorway.

A tiny shiver running through your body completely ruined the transfixion. Your arm fell uselessly at your side when he suddenly placed his hand on the door almost vigorously.

It almost felt like he was towering over you, despite being not much taller. Your heart began beating an even more frantic rhythm and you were praying to god he didn't notice the way your thigh muscles were contracting. He seemed to catch himself a second later, his stance slacking. It didn't help with the way heat was rushing through your body so intensely you almost felt overwhelmed.

"Do you- do you want to come in?"

You were embarrassed at how squeaky you sounded.

He nodded so shyly you couldn't believe it was the same person who almost pushed open the door just a second ago.

You stepped back, closing the door after him and praying your ass wasn't peeking out under the shirt in an embarrassingly slutty way. You didn't take him for the kind of guy who would like a girl like that and you already were convinced you were annoying him.

However, when you turned around he was rubbing his neck, his cheeks dusted in the fine pink colour it had been in since he first let his eyes roam down your legs.

"I didn't interrupt your night, did I?"

You started at him incredulously, not quite sure if he was serious. With an amused huff you let yourself fall down on your bed, trying to pull the blanket over your legs without being too obvious. "Does it look like you were, Sehyoon?"

His name tasted strange on your tongue but the way his mouth slightly lit up in a smile was worth it. You felt warmth trickle through your body like smooth honey, your heart fluttering in your chest so fast you couldn't believe you were able to still form a full sentence.

You had been so confident until you were sure Sehyoon simply was beyond not interested in you. Now he was standing in your room, in front of you, rubbing his neck while his cute puffy cheeks were covered in the faintest layer of pink.

"Why weren't you at Byeongkwan’s party?" he suddenly spluttered out, his gaze dropping to the floor as soon as he saw you looking at him.

"I-... I didn't think you'd...notice?" Your tone was almost embarrassingly high pitched. You were torn between feeling ecstatic and being cautious because you might just be reading more into his words than there was.

Sehyoon ran his hand over his face, making the few steps over to your bed in quick strides. He sat down far enough away from you to not touch you, but close enough for you to feel the warmth he was radiating. He was dressed casually - only a plain white shirt with a loose collar and tight jeans. The second you let yourself take him in fully you knew you were done for. The way he sat down made his jeans wrap around his legs so deliciously you found yourself swallowing hard. He was just sitting but somehow it was enough to make all your heat sink between your legs. Even before you had seen him laugh at some joke or another, his face lighting up and his cheeks squishing adorably you had been insanely attracted to him. He had a habit of wearing jeans that seemed uncomfortably tight, hugging his legs so snugly you could easily make out every detail of his thick legs even if he was just sitting down.

"You're staring." Sehyoon suddenly chuckled and you felt the heat in your cheeks flare up. You didn't even dare looking at him, too embarrassed at how obviously you had been eyeing him up. Instead you drew the blanket a little higher around your waist, looking everywhere but at Sehyoon.

"I just. I didn't expect you to care." you finally admitted. "Not that I'm saying you care! I mean. I know you don’t feel in any particular way about me and I’m probably the most annoying person when I’m giving you those pathetic dreamy eyes.” Now that you had started you couldn’t seem to stop. The words were just spilling out and you stuttered them out so fast you stumbled over your own sentences. You knew you were spilling your heart out to the very boy who had no interest in you, but your frustration had reached a point where you couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I didn’t even want to watch you dance or anything, how creepy is that. Stupid Jun tricked me because he knows how stupidly I’m crushing on you and he thinks it’s funny to watch you reject me on and on or something, I don’t even know what he was thinking, he knew I wouldn’t be able to walk away if I see you dance, not when you’re just about the most talented dancer I’ve ever seen and everything you do is just so natural and so alluring and-“

You finally managed to bite down on your tongue, realizing you weren’t just rambling, but you were basically gushing over Sehyoon. With a frustrated grown you rubbed your hand over your face, daring to take the tiniest glimpse at him.

You had expected him to laugh, or to look completely put off. Instead, he was looking at you with such an intensity you almost forgot to breathe. His bangs were falling into his eyes but you could still see how focused he was. His dark eyes were almost glistening with a look so intense it left you completely in shock.

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt like he had pinned you down with his gaze and left you unable to move. You wanted to apologize, or to tell him to just forget what you said and leave, but you were afraid if you said anything more you would just make it worse. Instead you bit down on your bottom lip hard to keep yourself from talking again.

You barely managed to gasp when he was suddenly kissing you, forcing his lips against yours so hard you were sure there was no space left between you. Your breath hitched but you couldn’t ponder on it. Sehyoons hands were in your hair in the blink of an eye, pressing you closer and threading his fingers through it until he could grab a handful. You felt him pull slightly, the tiniest sting at the back of your head. At the same moment he bit down on your bottom lip, where your own teeth had been before, only much harsher.

You were caught between the pull of his hand and his teeth nibbling on your lips, unable to move one way or another. A moan slipped over your lips before you could stop yourself. You reached one hand up to grab onto his white shirt.

You felt his breath stutter against your face, his teeth releasing your lip while he leant away just enough to look at you. You didn’t dare to open your eyes yet, not when he was still digging his fingers into your hair, his fingertips running over your neck until you shivered.

You felt his thumb run along your lip, sure he had left little marks with his teeth. Sehyoon waited until you finally looked at him, a sheepish smile playing at your lips. He was studying your face, his eyes running over your lips and back up to meet your gaze. He finally broke out in a big smile that almost made you giggle.

“You’re really confusing, Sehyoon” you finally admitted, surprised at how breathless you already sounded. Despite the way he had just kissed you his cheeks blushed the faintest pink in response. His hand was still in your hair, and contrary to how shy he looked, he kept pulling ever so slightly, just enough to remind you that he had just kissed you so good you felt dizzy.

“I like the way you say my name.” Despite the way he was blushing and suddenly seemed nervous again, his voice was lower than you had ever heard it before and it gave you enough confidence to keep your hand on his shirt. Your fingertips were toying slightly with his collar, enough to give him the chance to move away. “You make it sound like you’re talking about the best thing in the world.”

You would have shied away, embarrassed at your own sappiness, if it weren’t for the way he was running his hand down your neck and along your jaw, his eyes wandering over your face as if he wanted to memorize every small detail.

„Then why walk away every time I do it?“

He closed his eyes just for the shortest moment. You almost didn’t manage to listen to his words, your eyes set on the way he was biting down on his own lip, dragging it with his teeth, before he finally talked.

„I’m not good with... you know. This.“ Sehyoon pointed his finger between the two of you and you drew your eyebrows together in confusion. „Words. I’m not good with talking and I’m not as smooth or confident as J-„

You tapped your index finger against his lips gently, stopping him from talking. “But you’re very good with this.” You pressed your fingertips against his lips to emphasize what you meant. He laughed out loud despite it, his breath fanning your fingers. You knew he was laughing at you but you couldn’t even be mad at him, not when you finally managed to make him laugh that beautiful laugh that made you weak in the knees.

You didn’t get the chance to pout, because suddenly his tongue darted out, licking over your fingertip shortly, sending a sharp shiver down your spine. You gasped loudly, caught off guard and he used the moment to wrap his hand around your neck, pulling you against his lips again. He chuckled as you gasped again, louder this time, when he ran his tongue along you bottom lip. You tried to lean back but he only tightened his grip, keeping you firm against his mouth. You tilted your head in defeat, allowing him to bite down on your lip hard once more before he finally slipped his tongue into your mouth. You had to grab onto his shirt again. You were pulling Sehyoon closer and holding onto him at the same time, keeping yourself up against him. He was kissing you so hungrily you felt your head swim.

His lips were even softer and fuller than they looked, and you couldn’t resist to force Sehyoon to hold back and allow you to lick his lips in return and get a taste of him. They tasted slightly sweet, and a bit like sticky alcohol, and the way he drew in his breath urged you on. He let you take your time in exploring his lips and mouth, alternating between harsh breaths and low chuckles whenever you teasingly bit down or brushed his tongue with yours.

Sehyoon let his hands fall from your hair, instead moving them down your body to your hips. He kept them over the end of your shirt, refraining from touching your bare skin and you knew it wasn't because he was being modest. You were squirming under his grasp, wriggling the blanket down, trying to get him to move his hands down further with your kisses. You felt him grin against your lips and huffed in frustration. Even when you started sucking on his plush lower lip almost angrily, he didn't do much more than hum contently, barely moving his hands on your hips. With all the frustration building up in you you sunk your teeth into his lip hard. The way he growled, hot breath fanning your face, made you feel like fire was running through your veins. Finally he slipped his hands into your panties, placing them both on your ass so he could push you onto his lap. The blanket was in the way, bunching up between you but Sehyoon didn't seem to care. He was digging his fingers into your skin hard, his kisses turning almost aggressive. You completely let him take over, overwhelmed by how he was turning you on with just his mouth. You shivered when he started sucking on your tongue, swallowing your whimpers.

Sehyoon pushed you back into the mattress, hovering over you with his hands splayed next to your face. You tried to catch his gaze but his eyes were glued to your lips and you were sure they looked even worse than his, red and kiss-swollen.

His black hair fell into his eyes but you could still make out the way his pupils were fully blown. He licked his lips, leaning in to press one long, almost chaste kiss to your lips. You wanted to hold him there, to run your hands through his hair but he caught your wrist, pushing it next to your head into the pillow. You reluctantly let your other hand fall back on the bed, getting his message and he smiled appreciatively. "That's a good girl" he purred, leaning down to press an open mouthed kiss against your jaw in reward.

You leant your head to the side, silently urging him to move down further. He chuckled, his voice even rougher than before. You almost begged him to continue right then but bit your tongue in the last second.

He let his lips run down your jawline so lightly, you barely felt anything other than his breath, until he reached the junction between your neck and shoulder. You almost sobbed when he sank his teeth into your skin, running his tongue immediately along the marks he left. He started sucking, most certainly leaving a hickey but you couldn't even complain. The way he let his tongue dart out, alternating between sucking and spreading small kitten licks over the throbbing spot on your neck made you dizzy enough to forget everything you might have said.

You wanted to touch him, you needed him closer however possible, but one hand was still tightly wrapped around your wrist and you knew he wouldn't want you to move. Every small shake of your wrist was met with an even stronger grip and you almost wanted to resist, just to see what he would do.

Your thoughts were all but erased when his other hand moved from inside your panties up under your shirt. You hadn't bothered wearing a bra and there was no way he didn't notice. Despite that, all he did was run his fingertips along the underside of your breasts. You arched slightly into his touch and he chuckled, humming against your throat.

"Do you want me to touch you?" His voice was a mix between a whisper and purr and you clenched your thighs together at the heat rushing down to your center. You wanted him to touch you so badly but you didn't give in, ignoring his question.

He pushed up your shirt to run his palm over every piece of exposed skin until it was high enough to pull it off. You moved to help him take it off, but he grasped onto it, keeping it bunched up barely over your breasts instead. He didn't meet your gaze but instead leant down, his lips pressing against the underside of your breasts first before he started spreading small nibbles and bites along the valley of your breasts. You tried to shift under him, hissing when he bit down on your tender skin as a warning.

You had lost count of how many bite marks Sehyoon had already left on you. He pressed his palm down on your collarbones where he was grasping your t-shirt, signalling you to stay as you were. "I asked if you want me to touch you."

He was looking up at you through his bangs, dark strands falling over his eyes. They were blazing almost angrily and you felt yourself getting even wetter at the thought. You nodded hastily, holding his gaze and he furrowed his brows. Instead of finally giving you what you wanted, he moved his hand down to your thigh, keeping a firm hold on your wrist with the other one. He dipped his fingers under the inside of your panties, running them along your skin until you were shivering and biting down on your lip not to whimper.

"Is that how you ask for something?" He finally growled into your skin, his nails scratching along the inside of your thigh.

You weren't able to hold back any longer, finally giving in with a weak voice. "Sehyoon, please."

With a satisfied growl he finally wrapped his plush lips around your nipple and sucked harshly. He slid his hand from your thigh to your ass, grabbing it firmly and rolling his crotch into yours. At your moans he didn't even seem to care that you were straining hard against his hold, arching into him as much as possible. He kept sucking while he let you roll your heat into his clothed crotch. Even through his tight jeans you could clearly feel how hard he was, the bulge in his pants almost causing you to moan every time he met a roll of your hips. Throwing all caution into the wind you used the hand Sehyoon wasn't restraining to reach between you and palm his length in his jeans. He didn't immediately react, instead instinctively bucking into your hand. You rewarded him with another firm squeeze before he caught himself, tearing your hand away from his crotch. In a heartbeat Sehyoon had you flipped to your stomach, his knee pressing into your ass. You felt his hand run over the length of your exposed back until he reached the hem of your panties. He hooked his index finger inside and let them snap against your skin, causing you to curse in response before he finally pulled them down your legs.

Once they were tangled around one ankle he moved his hand up the inside of your legs, pushing them apart until you felt utterly exposed. He didn't talk, still pressing you down into the mattress. You were acutely aware of how wet you were, the air feeling strange against the sticky, wet mess between your legs. You took a deep breath when you heard him slide down his tight pants, waves of heat rolling through your stomach and down between your legs. You barely registered Sehyoon was still wearing his shirt when he leant over you, the weight of his knee removed from you when he spread your legs further with his, moving between them. You felt his palms moving over your skin, cupping your ass before he let them wander up your spine, pushing your hair away so he could wrap it around the back of your neck without hurting you. He made sure his length wasn't touching you and you felt ready to beg him however much he wanted you to, if only he would fuck you. Instead he pressed his lips behind your ear, spreading small, almost chaste kisses until you were trembling from anticipation. "I'll let you move freely when I fuck you-" you whimpered at that and Sehyoon finally let you feel his hardness, pressing it against your ass. "- under one condition. Whatever you ask for, I want you to use my name."

His tone was so commanding and cold you almost choked on your own breath. You couldn't manage more than a nod, and he positioned himself at your entrance, sliding in just the tip of his length. You jerked your hips, receiving a stinging slap to your ass in response. "What did I tell you?"

You ignored him, moving your hips up despite his words so he slipped a little deeper into you. Even though you wanted to see what he would do if you disobeyed you were even more curious what he would do if you played along.

"Sehyoon..." you moaned out, making sure to sound every bit as needy for him as you felt. You didn't even need to say anything else before he pushed into you fully. Clenching your hand into the pillow you swallowed a moan, focusing on your breathing instead. He didn't waste a second, pulling back out only to push you down into the mattress with his thrusts. He had one hand still wrapped around your neck, keeping you down despite his words and making sure he was quite literally fucking you into the mattress with every thrust of his hips. You felt his thighs flexing against yours, his muscles contracting in concentration to reach deeper with every push. You wanted to tell him how good he felt, but all you could manage were strangled moans. Every push made you feel dizzier and fuller, the feeling of Sehyoon deep inside you absolutely exhilarating.

He had his face pressed into your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. You were much louder than him, the only sounds he made deep, angry growls.

He kept his rhythm until you were a moaning mess under him, your hips meeting his with every thrust to have him fuck you harder.

"Sehyoon, please- god... please harder"

You were down to begging him, clenching around him when he moved one hand under you, finding your clit with ease. He pressed his index finger against it, letting you buck into his hand while he began thrusting into you harder until you were shaking under him.

"Sehyoon ... I want to come- fuck please" he jerked his hips harder at your words, curling his finger on your clit until he felt you clenching around his length. You were almost sobbing at this point and with a few final harsh thrusts he finally pushed you over the edge, making you see stars. You heard your blood rush in your ears, intercepted by your own needy moans and his irregular grunts. Sehyoon was still pushing into you, chasing his own high while your vision was swimming from how sensitive you were. You clenched around him, trying to get him to come inside you and he groaned loudly, burying his face in your neck.

"Sehyoon..." you didn't know whether you were whimpering his name for his or your sake, but you kept repeating it until you felt him shudder on top of you. Warmth filled you as he came inside of you. You let him draw out his thrusts until he was spent, pulling out of you with a loud groan.

The warm wetness trickling from your thighs felt uncomfortable, and suddenly you had the urge to get up and clean yourself.

Sehyoon clearly had other plans. He wrapped his arm around your middle, pulling you against his chest. You squirmed a little, trying not to rub your thighs together but if he noticed he ignored it, playing with your hair instead. He spread small kisses over your shoulder, caressing your skin lavishly until he stopped with a light chuckle.

"I think I made a mess of your neck" he was almost giggling and you felt your heart flutter faster than it already was. It was such a stark contrast to the Sehyoon who had been fucking you just a second ago, it was hard to believe it was the same person.

He tenderly kissed all the throbbing spots on your neck you hadn't been aware of, his hand rubbing up and down your side.

You were torn between fully sinking into his touch or getting up and he seemed to notice. He decidedly pressed his hand on your hips, holding you down on the bed with him.

"I promise I'm going to clean you up in a minute..." he murmured into your skin, his fingers rubbing small circles on your skin. "But I'm not quite done with you yet."

You wanted to ask what he meant but his fingers were already between your legs, sliding right between your folds. He didn't seem to care that you were sticky from his cum, instead pushing two fingers into you with ease. You shivered against him, a throaty moan falling over your lips immediately. You were still so overly sensitive even without Sehyoon moving his fingers inside you, you already felt dizzy.

"You okay?" he murmured, his lips still ghosting over your back and neck and you nodded, unable to form any words. With a hum he started moving his fingers, sliding them in and out of you at a torturing slow pace. He kept going at the same tempo, scissoring his fingers inside you until he had you moaning his name again like a mantra. Sehyoon was pressing his thumb against your clit, adding pressure with every thrust of his fingers. You were trembling around him, chasing your second orgasm almost desperately. You were so overly sensitive you felt tears threatening to spill at the corners of your eyes. You didn't even register Sehyoon pushing his leg between yours so he could spread you open more until his fingers hit a spot inside you that had you gasping for air. He pushed it again and again, his thumb on your clit pressing down until you were sputtering his name and whimpering. You were begging Sehyoon to stop when your second orgasm hit you. You felt wetness coat your cheeks, your whole body tingling hotly.

With harshly trembling fingers you entangled your hand with his, not caring that he was covered in yours and his own cum, as long as he would stop touching you.

Sehyoon was talking to you, but you were so dizzy from overstimulation you couldn't make sense of his words.

He noticed that you were unfocused and clearly not listening to him. He squeezed your hand and waited until you finally turned around to look at him with still glassy eyes. "I said," he repeated with a cheeky smile "after this I can definitely never hear you say my name again in public.“

#sehyoon #seyoon #seyoon smut #sehyoon smut #a.c.e smut #admin what about jiminnie #merry christmas yall

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