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republicsecurity · 9 months ago

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The formal Dinner / VIP Service Training 2

I opened the locker, and there it was, my red body armor. The same piece of equipment that had accompanied me through countless emergency missions, saving lives, and facing danger. Simpler times. I reached out to touch it, first the cold, metallic exterior, then the inner lining. It felt so smooth, almost soothing against my skin.

As my fingers trailed over the fabric, I was reminded of just how comfortable it was. It caressed my body, ensuring that I could move freely and swiftly when duty called. The sensation was strangely reassuring, like an old friend.

My thoughts shifted for a moment as my hand moved lower, almost of its own accord. My fingers brushed against the chastity cage, a constant presence. Down in the intimate confines of my chastity cage, a subtle stir of arousal surprised me.

8LJ7E glanced over at me, catching the reflective look in my eyes. He gave a knowing smile, one that suggested he understood the intricate web of emotions woven into the fabric of our red body armor.

"You know," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial, "we were all conditioned to love these suits. But there's something about them, isn't there? The way they fit, the way they make us feel... it's almost like a second skin."

I nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words. The conditioning had been rigorous, shaping not just our skills but also our attitudes and affections. Yet, despite the artificiality of it all, there was a genuine comfort in the embrace of the armor.

8LJ7E grinned, a mix of camaraderie and understanding in his eyes. "Exactly. We might be conditioned, but that doesn't mean we can't find our own truths within these constraints."

„Do you get hot when you touch it?“

"A little bit," I admitted, my sheepish grin mirrored in 8LJ7E's understanding eyes.

"It's the conditioning, probably," 8LJ7E said, his voice a mix of amusement and resignation. "They've got us wired to find comfort in the strangest places."

I chuckled, nodding in agreement. "True. But I guess it's better to find solace in our armor than to be constantly at odds with it."

"We should get ready!" 8LJ7E's voice pulled me from my momentary reverie. With a nod, we both moved with practiced precision, retrieving our neatly folded parade uniforms from our lockers. The fabric felt crisp under our hands, a stark contrast to the flexible armor we wore daily.

As we began ironing, the soft hiss of steam filled the room, mingling with the hum of conversation from other trainees nearby. The rhythmic strokes of the iron became a familiar cadence, grounding us in the routine of preparation. The parade uniform, sleek and formal, held its own significance, a symbol of the role we were stepping into beyond our tactical paramedic duties.

In the quietude of the moment, 8LJ7E glanced at me, his gaze softening with a hint of camaraderie. "It's strange, isn't it?" he mused, his tone low enough to be a shared secret. "How something as simple as ironing a uniform can feel almost... human."

I laughed.

In the quiet rhythm of polishing boots, we found a peculiar sort of solace. The meticulous task demanded focus, and in that focus, the world outside our immediate surroundings blurred into insignificance. The soft glow of polish mingled with the low hum of conversation in the room, creating a strangely meditative atmosphere.

I glanced over at 8LJ7E, his brow furrowed in concentration. The rhythmic motion of our hands seemed to synchronize, a silent agreement that this shared task was grounding us in the reality of the present moment. The occasional clink of a boot buckle being adjusted and the subtle scent of shoe polish filled the air.

As the gleam on our boots reached a near-perfect shine, there was a shared sense of satisfaction. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of our tightly regulated lives, but in that moment, it felt significant. With our boots impeccably polished, we set them aside and glanced at each other, a silent acknowledgment passing between us.

I let out a nervous laugh, trying to shrug off the sensations. "Yeah, I guess so," I replied, my voice a bit more strained than I intended. "It's just... weird, you know?"

„Don’t you feel really aroused again, after all this boot polishing?“

"I've noticed it too," 8LJ7E said, his tone casual as if discussing the weather. "It's the conditioning. Designed to keep us focused and, I suppose, obedient."

I nodded, feeling strangely comforted by the matter-of-fact way he spoke. It was the truth we all knew but rarely acknowledged aloud. The conditioning had its quirks, and arousal seemed to be one of them, an unintended side effect of the mechanisms meant to mold us into efficient paramedics. I adjusted my grip on the boot, focusing on the familiar task.

"But sometimes, the conditioning seems to amplify everything, even the... less expected reactions."

I nodded, appreciating his understanding. It was a constant struggle, navigating the complexities of our modified emotions and desires. The chastity cages, as restrictive as they were, provided a strange sense of relief amidst the chaos of conflicting feelings.

"It's all part of the job, I suppose," I mumbled, more to myself than to 8LJ7E.

I stepped into the white bodyglove, feeling the material conform around my body with a gentle, almost sentient embrace. It was a second skin, designed not just for comfort but also for protection, a constant reminder of the Corps' authority over us. As I stretched my arms, 8LJ7E approached, his gaze flickering to the chastity cage discreetly hidden beneath the fabric.

"Everything looks in order," he said, his tone professional as he zipped up the back of the bodyglove. His hands moved with practiced ease, ensuring the fit was snug and flawless.

I nodded my thanks. In the Corps, every action, every nuance, was part of the script we followed, the role we played to perfection. As I glanced at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but marvel at how the bodyglove accentuated my physique, emphasizing the muscular lines the Corps so highly valued.

I assisted 8LJ7E with his white bodyglove, my hands moving deftly to ensure the fabric embraced his form seamlessly. As I fastened the zipper at the back, I remarked, "They've designed it well, haven't they? Always needing someone else to help, a constant reminder of our interdependence."

He glanced at me, a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. "Yes," he agreed, his tone neutral. "It reinforces the idea that we can't function alone, not just physically, but in every aspect of our existence here."

8LJ7E gestured for me to sit, his movements efficient and practiced. He activated the holographic system, which displayed the prescribed makeup routine from the beauty specialist. As he began applying the makeup, his fingers moved with a steady confidence, expertly following the instructions.

"You know," he said conversationally, his tone light, "I used to think makeup was something only actors and performers wore. Now, it's just another layer of our uniform."

I returned the favor, mimicking 8LJ7E's previous motions. He sat still, his expression relaxed but distant, perhaps lost in his thoughts about the upcoming formal dinner. The holographic instructions guided my movements, dictating the shades and angles to enhance his features.

"There you go," I said finally, stepping back to allow him to examine himself in the mirror.

He looked at his reflection, nodding in approval. "Thanks, T1CPS. You're getting better at this."

The uniform was a study in simplicity and elegance. The deep shade of red was commanding yet not too ostentatious, giving off an aura of authority. The black dress boots shone with meticulous polishing, reflecting the stark lighting of the room. The pants were tailored to perfection, fitting snugly but not restrictively, allowing for easy movement.

The real piece de resistance, however, was the parade uniform jacket. Its high collar added a touch of formality, emphasizing the wearer's stature. The jacket was designed to accentuate the physique, giving a sense of strength and discipline. Gold buttons lined the front, gleaming under the artificial lights, and the paramedic insignia was embroidered meticulously on the sleeve, a mark of pride and accomplishment.

I stared at my reflection, my eyes taking in the polished boots, the impeccably tailored uniform, and the glinting paramedic insignia on my sleeve. Despite the armored exterior, there was something oddly satisfying about the sight before me.

"Impressive, isn't it?" 8LJ7E remarked, standing beside me and adjusting his own uniform. "We may be wearing these for the parade, but damn, we look good."

I nodded, not entirely sure why I was nodding. The polished boots, the perfect fit of the uniform, they all seemed so inconsequential and yet, in this moment, they held a strange significance.

"Good as in... professional," I said, my voice catching slightly. "This uniform... it represents something. Discipline, duty, honor."

"And a bunch of other things our instructors have hammered into our heads," 8LJ7E added with a smirk. "But you're right. It's like we've become something more, something beyond just medics. We're... symbols, in a way."

My cheeks flushed as I felt the familiar stirrings beneath the chastity cage. The uniform, the tightness of the body glove, and the proximity to 8LJ7E seemed to conspire to elicit this reaction. It was baffling, this physical response that had been conditioned into me.

"Ready?" 8LJ7E's voice broke my reverie. He glanced at me, his eyes catching the flicker of unease that must have crossed my face.

T1CPS hesitated for a moment before finally voicing his thoughts, "You ever feel like... you're not in control of your own body? Like these reactions, they're programmed, but they feel so real."

8LJ7E nodded knowingly, his eyes understanding. "Yeah, it's bizarre, isn't it? I mean, we're conditioned for efficiency and focus, but our bodies have their own agendas."

"There's this constant tension," T1CPS admitted, "between what I've been conditioned to be and what I feel." He paused, then added, "The beauty specialist said something similar, that we should explore our feelings during that window after dinner. But it feels so... strange, given everything we've been through."

8LJ7E shrugged, a grin playing on his lips. "We're still human, underneath all the conditioning and technology. Maybe exploring these feelings, even if they're engineered, is a way to hold on to that humanity. Besides, we have to find some way to cope with the strangeness of it all, right?"

8LJ7E clapped him on the back, the camaraderie evident in his eyes. "Exactly. So, what do you say we make use of this 'exploration' time tonight?“

T1CPS and 8LJ7E moved in practiced unison to the elegant lobby of the dining hall. The click of their dress boots echoed in the grand space. As they approached, they felt the weight of the instructor's gaze upon them. With military precision, they assumed the 'Full Present' position, a stance that left them exposed.

Their bodies assuming the stance with practiced precision. It was a vulnerable posture, an intentional display of submission to whoever commanded them, in this case, the VIPs. Legs spread, shoulders squared, and hands clasped behind their necks, they stared at the floor, their eyes shielded from the world.

In this exposed state, they found an odd sense of camaraderie. The vulnerability was shared, a common experience that bonded them and their fellow trainees. Despite the rigid formality, a silent understanding passed between them, a solidarity born out of the necessity to adapt to the Corps' demands.

The elegance of the lobby contrasted sharply with their position. The soft glow of the chandeliers cast intricate shadows on the marble floors, creating an atmosphere of opulence. They stood there, unmoving, embodying the ideal of paramedic discipline and obedience.

The instructors moved among the trainees like overlords inspecting their domain, their eyes sharp and observant. Their scrutiny fell upon the meticulously dressed paramedics, assessing the chastity devices with a practiced eye, ensuring every lock was secure, every seam perfectly aligned.

In the spotlight of their attention, T1CPS and 8LJ7E felt the weight of their gaze. The instructors' fingers deftly checked the locks of the chastity devices, a peculiar blend of intrusiveness and professionalism. Their remarks, though laced with condescension, carried a hint of humor, as if they were sharing an inside joke with the trainees.

"Oh, splendid lock job here, T1CPS," one instructor said, feigning surprise. "Almost as if you've done this a hundred times."

T1CPS replied sharply: „Sir, 475 times at least. Every day in the morning since I joined the Corps“

The instructor's eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "Well, well," he said, his tone a blend of amusement and mock awe. "A true master of his craft, aren't you, T1CPS? I suppose that's dedication."

"Sir, dedication is the cornerstone of our service," T1CPS responded, his voice crisp and unyielding.

The instructor chuckled, a sound that resonated through the lobby. "Indeed, dedication. You're a shining example to your peers, T1CPS. Keep up the good work."

As the instructor moved on, T1CPS stood firm, his expression unchanged. But within, a subtle sense of satisfaction simmered.

"And 8LJ7E, your makeup is impeccable," another remarked, a sarcastic smile playing on their lips. "I'm sure the VIPs will appreciate your artistry."

The trainees maintained their Full Present stance, their faces expressionless despite the instructors' banter.

The instructor's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the air, detailing the instructions for the evening's formal dinner. "Listen up, trainees," he began, his tone laced with a mix of condescension and amusement. "You've been groomed, polished, and conditioned to be the epitome of grace and elegance. Now, it's time to put those skills to the test."

"Firstly," he continued, his eyes scanning the line of trainees, "you'll be enjoying a four-course meal tonight. That means multiple opportunities to demonstrate your mastery of the fine art of dining. Don't disgrace yourselves by forgetting the etiquette we've drilled into you."

A wry smile played on the instructor's lips as he added, "Remember, the instructors and our esteemed female staff will be posing as VIPs tonight. Treat them with the respect and deference they deserve. Engage in conversations. Be the strong, elegant paramedic that not only saves lives but also dazzles with charm and sophistication."

There was a subtle challenge in his words, a reminder that while they were conditioned, they were also expected to excel beyond mere obedience. The trainees exchanged glances, fully aware of the implicit expectations.

"As always," the instructor concluded, his voice taking on a mockingly sincere tone, "make us proud. Dismissed."

T1CPS and 8LJ7E, impeccably groomed and exuding an air of practiced confidence, approached the table where the grey-haired lady sat, her presence commanding respect. With a synchronized movement, they both executed a crisp paramedic salute before introducing themselves.

"Ma'am," T1CPS began, his voice steady and respectful, "I am T1CPS, Tactical Paramedic, at your service."

"Ma'am," 8LJ7E followed suit, his tone mirroring the same respect, "I am 8LJ7E, also a Tactical Paramedic, ready to assist you in any way necessary."

Their words were rehearsed, yet delivered with a touch of genuine earnestness. The grey-haired lady, likely used to such displays, nodded in acknowledgment, her eyes studying them carefully. It was a moment of silent evaluation, a dance of social cues, even in this seemingly controlled environment. The instructors observed from a distance, assessing how well their training had taken hold.

"Please, have a seat," the lady gestured gracefully, indicating the chairs across from her. As they sat, the instructors' words echoed in their minds: Be the strong, elegant paramedic that not only saves lives but also dazzles with charm and sophistication.

And so, they sat, their posture straight, eyes alert, ready to engage in conversation, their every move calculated to project an image of strength and poise.

The Lady initiated conversation and asked for their hobbies.

T1CPS hesitated briefly, his mind cycling through the approved responses. "Ma'am," he began, his voice measured, "I find solace in reading the digital comics available through the HUD. They provide moments of respite, glimpses of stories far removed from our daily duties."

"Fitness events," he continued, "have become a focus as well. The paramedic training emphasizes physical prowess, and I find fulfillment in honing my body's abilities, ensuring I'm always at the peak of my performance."

8LJ7E chimed in, seamlessly adding, "And I, ma'am, share similar interests. The comics offer a brief escape from the rigors of our profession, a chance to explore worlds beyond our own. As for fitness, it not only sharpens our skills but also instills discipline and resilience, qualities vital for our duties."

Their responses were well-rehearsed, yet delivered with a touch of genuine enthusiasm. The lady, experienced in discerning authenticity, acknowledged their words with a nod, her eyes showing a glimmer of approval. In the meticulously crafted exchange, they had navigated the conversation with finesse, aligning their interests with the Corps-approved activities while maintaining an air of sincerity.

"Ma'am," T1CPS replied with practiced charm, "the HUD indeed offers a curated selection of media for our leisure, tailored to maintain our focus and morale, where they can escape the harsh realities of their duties, if only for a moment."

He continued, the words flowing smoothly, "The comics, provide a semblance of entertainment. A reminder, perhaps, that there's a world beyond the constraints of our daily lives. It's a delicate balance, granting us a taste of normalcy without jeopardizing our unwavering dedication to the Corps."

T1CPS and 8LJ7E exchanged a brief, subtle glance, acknowledging the unspoken truth in her words. The Corps' propaganda machinery was indeed a force to be reckoned with, shaping not only the minds of its recruits but the perceptions of the entire society.

T1CPS hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting the Lady's with a mixture of deference and determination. "The conditioning is part of our reality," he admitted, his voice carefully measured. "It shapes our actions, our thoughts. We are trained to be precise, efficient, and unwavering in our dedication."

8LJ7E chimed in, his tone carrying a touch of resignation. "The protocols ensure uniformity and discipline. We are a synchronized force, ma'am, and these protocols, while strict, are designed to maintain that cohesion."

The Lady's gaze shifted between them, her eyes discerning. "And what about your individuality?" she inquired, her voice gentle yet probing. "In this sea of uniformity, do you find space for your personal identities, your aspirations?"

T1CPS paused, the weight of her question sinking in. "There are moments," he began slowly, "when we glimpse our individuality, our desires. But they exist within the framework provided. Our personal lives are, to a large extent, regulated. Yet, within those boundaries, we find ways to connect, to form bonds."

8LJ7E nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We adapt, ma'am. Within the constraints, we discover facets of ourselves, even if they're not always visible to the outside world. It's a delicate balance, embracing both the collective purpose and our individuality."

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krakenbait · 1 year ago

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bragging rights bracket update #7: this one’s for all the marbles

good day bracketeers, and happy end of may! commissioner lara here. i’m casually wondering why the nhl season is so long. 82 regular season games plus pre-season and post-season, stretching all the way from the beginning of october to the beginning of june. feels a little excessive.

with that meditation out of the way, it is time i bring y’all the final results of the 2023 stanley cup playoffs bragging rights bracket! with how chaotic this year’s playoffs have been, not one person correctly predicted a possible winner, so everyone has hit their points ceiling. at least it was later than the first year, i think we called a winner after round two. but enough preamble, you guys want to see who gets to lord their victory over the rest of their friends for the whole year!

congratulations to (drum roll please) ... @natashastarkk! after winning bronze last year, nat secures victory! you have official permission from the commissioner to rub it in everyone’s faces.

rounding out our top three are two unexpected medallists. emily snags silver, while alex (@patron-saint-of-boston-hockey) lands bronze... even after I made that meme with the sword in their back.

now, enjoy the final bits of commentary for the 2022-23 season.

166 points

🥇 Hughes line is it anyway? (@natashastarkk) - winner winner chicken dinner!

134 points

🥈 Chaos mode (Emily) - representing the avs server on the podium!

96 points

🥉 hopelessly optimistic bruins fan (@patron-saint-of-boston-hockey) - i’m as surprised as you are!

91 points

more hairy men (abby) - first is the worst, second is the best, third is the one with the treasure chest, fourth is the one with the hairy chest. fitting, eh?

81 points

raise hell or whatever (@dawson-mercer) - you’re tied with noah for best result from the devils server

you know :) (@nastybastian) - you have too many points for someone with such questionable taste in hockey men

68 points

come on and raise up (@andreisvechnikov) - have the canes apologized for ruining your sleep and then losing in that 4OT game?

ready 2b disappointed but not surprised (@morganfrost) - “moose says you’re closed, I say you’re open!”

the commissioner is not supposed to win (me) - and to think i came in fourth last year.

66 points

Jack i will pay u to get a mullet (@puck--off) - be careful next time you play an ill-advised mini sticks tournament

61 points

battle of the matty b’s (@shea-theodore) - well, at least your t-birds boys on the knights are still in it.

58 points

The head, the heart, and the himbos (@circle--of--confusion) - i think the yotes should move to atlanta, give the city a third try

56 points

GOOD vibrations (ki) - let’s go avs roomies!

Hold me like a grudge - how’s that working out for you?

55 points

big advocate for naps (@turbolainen)

i had big hopes for you and your canes! alas...

53 points

the bringer of chaos (Brett) - poor showing for your first time out. better luck next year.

46 points

Djoker’s actual bracket - “you don’t pay no tolls, you don’t get no rolls.”

33 points

last season 69 points (@arsonandhockey) - how did you do only 13 points better than last year, when your friend who doesn’t know anything about hockey made your picks?

13 points

if the bruins don’t win, don’t talk to m (@saucysliceodoyle) - *insert screaming rubber chicken*

-----

that’s all for now, folks! good luck to the panthers and the knights. i got no skin in the game, so i’m just here for the chaos and good hockey. thanks for participating everyone, and see y’all next year!

#bragging rights bracket challenge #brag-cket updates #scp23

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zaewriteshere · 1 year ago

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Guardian of the Protocol

Distance

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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After that, everyone left the room to let you rest, but you weren’t feeling like it.

You wanted to move, you felt like you were on this bed for days already, and you weren’t really liking being bedridden when you were perfectly fine.

You didn’t even feel the need for a meditative session.

So, you called Ling, and told her how you were feeling.

Reluctantly, she let you have the green light under the condition that you would do daily routine check ups for a month, and wouldn’t be authorised to go on missions during that period.

You accepted the deal, even though in your mind it seemed harsh… But you did come back from the dead, so you guessed it was only fair of her to do so.

While changing clothing, you noticed that you had scars on your right shoulder and left thigh, and you got reminded of the two bullets that got you during the last mission.

It was weird, scars weren’t really a thing among guardians.

When you were brought back to life, it was unscathed, so why didn’t it happen this time ?

You put this question on the back burner. You’ll ask Lynn later, anyways.

You tried to go back to your daily routine.

The first time you noticed him, was when you were about to go eat with your friends the next day of your awakening.

Yoru was looking at you – scrutinising you, really – barely eating his own plate.

You thought nothing of it, and tried to sit down at the same table as him, but he only got up and walked away, and judging by the directions, he was going to his room.

Well, that was weird.

You didn’t spend too much time munching on it however, and just moved to the group that you were originally going to eat with.

The next one was when you were outside of HQ, trying to find a good spot for meditating any other places than inside your room. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Ryo again, but he quickly disappeared once you fully turned to make eye contact.

You found your spot at dawn, and decided to meditate for a bit before going to eat dinner.

You heard cracking of branches, as if someone was always around you and circling you during your entire session, which made you feel uneasy and therefore rendered your meditating… Useless.

When you went back into HQ, you didn’t see him until you'd already grabbed something to eat and was enjoying your meal.

You made eye contact and you waved, but he ignored you with a scowl.

Were you back to square one ?

That thought affected you more than you thought.

It was like this for an entire week, Ryo always being near but never interacting or even granting you more than a glance.

To say that it took a toll on your mental health as well as your ability to centre yourself would be an understatement.

You were devastated by his actions, but understood the reason behind it.

After all, you did lie to him and played with his feelings.

He must hate you by now.

You knew you’d hate yourself for pulling such a number on someone.

You already… Kinda did. You hated the fact that you kept your immortality to yourself, that you haven’t told anyone. Lynn was trying their best to help your mental state to no avail.

There wasn’t one day that passed by without you longing for what you had before.

“Alright, I’m sick of seeing you like this,” Finally Lynn spoke out, their exasperations radiating in waves, getting you out of your unfruitful meditation. At your questioning glance, they added. “Let’s go against M.A.X bot. Have something to change your current state of being, a trigger, I don’t know at this point.”

You could tell that your ghost was stressed by sensing you like this. So broken down and beating yourself up over every single little mistake you made in the daily – which was getting greater by the day, you kept not paying attention to yourself or your surroundings, getting hurt all the time. Nothing serious however, just small cuts and bruises.

Just like you were when you lost your fireteam, you realised.

Was the loss of Ryo’s friendship really affecting you that much ?

That couldn’t be good.

You didn’t accept that.

You promised yourself to never be affected by anyone else but yourself ever since you lost them.

Finding a newfound conviction, you nodded, getting up and preparing yourself to fight the hardest enemy in the training room.

Yourself.

You went inside the room, wearing nothing but a long sleeve shirt and some yoga pants.

You didn’t want to win, you just wanted some steam off, and what was better than a robot who fought back ?

You started shooting at him with your phantom, officially starting the challenge.

You managed to dodge most of his attacks, getting hit a few times but never truly hurt. You were feeling yourself, enjoying your time.

Mourning the loss of your friends, recent or not.

It was way more effective than meditation you realised, and you wondered why Ikora never taught you that.

Maybe because-

And you were hit by a heavy blow which propulsed you a few metres back.

You were fine. You grunted as you stood back up, maybe you’ve broken a rib or 2.

You nearly dodged another heavy blow which would’ve put you definitely in a much worse predicament, shooting back at what seemed to be weaker sides.

However, M.A.X seemed to be growing tired of your insistent shooting, because it decided to grab you by the neck and slam you against the wall…

Or at least that’s what would’ve happened if it didn’t shut off mid-movement and let you fall to the ground.

Did you lose ? Mid action ?

That was weird.

You instinctively looked at the windows, and you saw Ryo holding the emergency shut down button, looking panicked and worried.

Now, to say that you were simply offended…

Would be a grave mistake.

You were absolutely livid.

You could feel your blood boil more and more as your old friend walked up – almost ran – to you, about as angry as you were.

“What is your problem ??” You started, almost shouting, which took aback your interlocutor who stopped dead in his tracks. “Didn’t you want nothing to do with me ? And yet, you act as if I am a child going outside for the first time, needing to be protected at every single step I make ! Who do you think you are ?!” You were already out of breath, anger rolling off of you in waves, your void magic doing its own thing, the room starting to feel more like a vacuumed space than anything else. “You think you can just enter willy nilly into someone’s life and get out just as easily ? Sorry to break it to you buddy but it doesn’t work like that,” You took a step towards him with every single syllable, your voice getting stronger in power without even shouting.

He seemed to have just as much to say about it than you did.

“Then why are you acting like a child ?” He started, just as aggressively. “You’ve literally seen M.A.X bot in action and you still want to go against him alone in that outfit ? You’re not even in your mission’s clothing !” He gestured to all of you, looking you up and down as if you offended him with your attire. “Maybe it’s hard to realise it for you guardians but when someone dies, it’s a big deal. And you did. Why can’t you take care of yourself ?!” He spat the word guardian as if the word alone was a disgusting thing to say or even to be. You hid your hurt behind more anger.

“I told you, I can’t die. The funny thing is… I-I used to-” You cut yourself off, wiping away tears of anger. “I used to kill myself at every inconvenient injury. I couldn’t care less about how many times I die, so long as I can protect someone.”

So long as I can protect you.

“You were dead for 3 entire days,” He finally said, after a moment of silence. Your anger melted away slightly. “I- We really thought we lost you.”

“I’m not dead, though. I’m alive and kicking asses, why can’t you accept that ?” You asked, the anger now gone only to leave hurt and disbelief.

He never answered your question, leaving you hurt, confused, and upset.

What was wrong with him ?

#ao3 fanfic #fanfic #x reader #gender neutral reader #valorant #yoru x reader #yoru x you #destiny 2 #gotp #long fic #slow burn

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maddieautobot273 · 6 months ago

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Silk & Cologne (59)

A Miguel O'hara x OC fanfiction series - link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 59: Seoul - previous chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x Female! Spidersona OC

Words: 5.5K+ words

Warning: PG mentions of past trauma

Summary: Lisa and Miguel arrive in Seoul and meet her step-family.

******

The flight was long, but the various amenities the plane provided helped pass the time. An expansive movie and TV selection, cocktail bar, dinner, dessert, and breakfast, it was like a dream. But my favourite moments were when Miguel and I talked. Our bed was folded out in our cabin, we had changed into our complimentary and very cozy pajamas and while snuggled under the blanket we just talked.

“Tell me about your family in Korea.” Miguel encouraged me with a gentle smile, his hand reaching across the bed and taking my hand, his thumb brushing my skin. “Anything at all.”

So I did. I told him all about my step-father’s family, rambling on about distant cousins, aunts and uncles, but mostly my grandparents. I was nervous, not wanting to overwhelm him with this gigantic info dump on my family’s story, but Miguel squeezed my hand as he listened to every single bit, and even asked questions.

“My harabeoji, my grandfather served and worked in Korea’s military after studying law and business in university. After his service, he started a business with some friends and he got really lucky and they ended up selling it and became millionaires overnight. But he didn’t let the money change him, and that’s probably what I admire about him most. Instead of retiring, he helped organize and run various charities in Korea and across Asia and that’s how he met my grandma, halmeoni.

“She was a school teacher while writing her thesis to improve the school system for disabled students. Nobody gave her the time of day, but grandpa heard about her from a friend and reached out to her. He approved her research and helped her raise funds, and they ended up opening a new school, with smaller class sizes and more one-on-one time with each student to figure out their needs to succeed. The rest was history.”

“They sound wonderful.” Miguel smiled softly, turning over on his side to look at me properly, his body blocking the view and what little light that came from the small window on the side of our cabin.

I nodded in agreement. “Grandma taught me a lot about looking out and standing up for others, self meditation. . . she also knows how to make a mean kimchi.” I chuckle softly with a wink.

“I’d love to try it.” Miguel grinned, one of his fangs poking out.

We stared at each other in silence for a while, content in each other's presence. My mind began to wander, and my gaze quickly followed as I looked over to the side, not exactly staring at anything in particular.

Miguel caught on right away as his grip on my hand tightened ever so slightly, squeezing my fingers. “What is it?”

I shake my head. “It’s nothing. It’s kind of stupid, actually.”

“Nothing you have to say is stupid.” Miguel reassured me, dragging my hand across the mattress to his chin as he leaned down and kissed my knuckles. “Talk to me, Lisa.”

“It’s just. . .” My gaze trailed off, avoiding his gaze for a second before I willed myself to look at him. “If he had such great parents. . . what went wrong?”

“Mona. . .” Miguel called softly, his expression falling into a soft frown.

“Why would he act in a way that’s the complete opposite of what they stood for?” I spoke, coming out as asking Miguel, but really I was asking myself.

I had been for a while.

“Hey.” Miguel reached for me and gently pulled me closer, the heat of his body engulfing me as he held me against this chest. His hand ran up and combed through my hair in a soothing gesture as he looked into my eyes. “We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

My eyes turned soft as I looked at him. “Okay. . .”

Miguel’s face inched closer and I met him half way. We kissed until I fell asleep in his arms.

********

“Thank you for flying with us! Enjoy your stay!”

Miguel and I got off the plane and navigated our way through the terminal to baggage claim and the arrival gate. I didn’t remember it being so busy, nearly shoulder to shoulder with one another as we walked through small halls and tight corners. It seemed everyone had somewhere to be today. But Miguel kept me close, and in the event we did get separated, albeit briefly, Miguel was the tallest guy around, so it was easy to spot him.

Some passersby even noticed and took a moment to simply stare in awe. One kid even dropped his candy bar. He couldn't look away. He called Miguel a giant and his mothers quickly scooped him up in his arms, apologizing profusely. Miguel reassured that there was no harm done, and the mother was even more surprised when he responded in Korean. Miguel asked for directions to baggage claim and the kind woman pointed us in the right direction.

“You never told me you knew Korean.” I smirked up at him, taking his hand in mine as we passed through the doors.

“When you’re CEO of a multi-trillion dollar company, it doesn’t hurt to pick up a language or two.” Miguel smirked back with a knowing look.

It was almost strange looking at Miguel and picturing him as a CEO. Suit and tie, sitting at a desk in an office, attending board room meetings, riding fancy cars, and going to all these special events. Okay, maybe I can with the car, and he does look good in a suit. Exhibit A) Our first date.

We found baggage claim and picked up our suitcases, dragging them along as we passed through the arrival gate and were greeted by a sea of people waiting behind the metal railing. Some had their phones out, holding up signs and posters. One moment, everyone was quietly murmuring, and then the next, people started cheering.

“What’s going on?” Miguel asked as he recovered from flinching, his shoulders hunched as the screaming started. “They don’t greet everyone like this do they?”

I placed a steady hand on his back as I glanced over to see a group of guys walk out after us, all clad in black and wearing face masks to cover their face. But that didn’t stop all these people from waving and cheering them on as one fan aggressively waved their poster that said “WELCOME HOME!”

“Aaah, now I remember. A lot of fans like to camp out at the arrival gate to welcome back their favourite idols coming back from a tour.” I smiled a little at the memories of some of my old dancer partners sharing stories of their own experiences back at boot camp. “I think that group is. . . oh, wow ATEEZ. I didn’t even know they were on tour.”

I wasn’t too familiar with their songs, but I was a fan of their track ‘Wonderland’. I was more of a Stray Kids and BTS kind of girl. As for the girl groups themselves, I think when you look at the black and pink aesthetic of my spider suit, I think it’s rather obvious.

“They literally sit there and wait for them to show up?” Miguel asked, a mixture of intrigue and discomfort on his face as we walked away from the scene.

“For hours at a time. Snacks and drinks to boot too.” I patted his back gently once we were far enough away from the bulk of the crowd and pulled away.

“So how are we getting to your family’s house?” Miguel glanced down at me. “Want me to rent us a car?”

“Nah, it’s fine, I can get us an Uber, I have some extra credit on me.” I sighed as I pulled out my phone and opened the app. “I do not want to wait in another long line.”

I was typing in their address when I heard another scream. I ignored it, initially thinking it was another crazed fan that got there late to try and greet the band. But then I heard them stammering, as if they were running and when I listened more closely, the voice didn’t sound like a young girl, but like an older woman. I tilted my head up, looking out in the crowd and noticed a pair of balloons floating above the heads of the busy bodies, going in a zig zag as if someone was trying to navigate around them.

“Something wrong?” Miguel could sense immediately my shift in behavior when I stopped suddenly and he came to a halt, reaching for me as if ready to pull me to his side at the first sign of trouble.

That’s when I saw her.

Springing out from a cluster of people was an elderly woman in her late 60’s, early 70’s, but judging by the way she was running and now jumping for joy, you would have thought she was acting someone in their prime. Her black-gray bob cut bounced as she ran, and she nearly dropped her burgundy hat as she approached us in a over the knee length black and white striped cotton dress with black birkenstock sandals and a fanny pack over her shoulder.

“Lisa-Lisa!” My grandmother cheered.

Tears swelled in my eyes after hearing my name fall from her lips and I dropped my bag on the floor as she closed in on me. “Halmeoni!” I wrapped my arms around her, my head buried into her hair as she was a few inches shorter than me.

“Oh we’re so happy to see you! Come now, let me look at you!” She beamed as she pulled back, hands on my face. Grandma looked me over top to bottom, a happy expression and proud smile on her face as she did so. “How was your flight? Did you get enough to eat on the plane? Aya, those inflight meals are always so small!”

“Don’t crowd her, you’re making her nervous.” Another voice, an elderly man called out to her. The man stepped out of the crowd, carrying the strings of the balloons in his hand as he approached us. He offered me a kind smile with the tilt of his head. “Annyeong, Lisa.” - Hello

“Annyeong harabeoji.” I greeted warmly as my grandma stepped back. - Hello grandpa

“You must be Miguel!” My grandmother beamed with excitement as she offered her hand and Miguel gently took and offered a nice, firm handshake. “Janet told us much about you from her visit to New York.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Miguel smiled back, offering her a polite smile.

“Not that we’re not happy to see you, what are you two doing here?” I asked them as I picked my bag back up from the floor. “We could have taken an Uber.”

“Oh we wanted to surprise you, Tokki!” My grandma smiled brightly. “We’re here to drive you to the family house.” - bunny

I could see the teasing side glance Miguel was giving me at the corner of my eye, along with the one sided grin. “Tokki?”

“What about it?” I playfully glared back at him.

“Oh, it’s a wonderful pet name, isn’t it?” Grandma’s smile was infectious despite my best efforts to not mimic it.

“Does it have something to do with you not staying still?” Miguel gave me a knowing look, his eyes roaming over me to try and get a rise out of me.

My cheeks flushed and I nearly snapped, about to call him out that my grandparents were right there. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to smack him or kiss him. Maybe both for good measure.

“You are a smart one, Miguel!” Grandma gasped in awe, even doing a little clap. “At first I thought Janet was exaggerating a little, but you are every bit as phenomenal as she said you were!”

Miguel chuckled softly as he sauntered closer to my side, wrapping an arm around me. “I aim to please, Miss–?”

“Oh, you can call me Grandma Park.” Grandma politely reintroduced herself.

“The car is outside. Traffic is always awful around this time, so we should get going while we can.” Grandpa handed me the balloons with a kind smile and even reached for my suitcase.

“Oh, thank you grandpa, but I can carry that.” I insisted softly as I reached to ask for it back. “What about your arthritis?”

“Nonsense my dear, I want you to relax. I’m sure you’ve had a long flight.” He spoke nonchalantly as we walked through the terminal. “I want to make this journey as simple as possible for you.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her.” Miguel’s hand gently squeezed my shoulder as I turned to look up at him, and we shared a playful glimmer in each other's eyes.

“I’m not aware of your living situation back home, but I’ve had a guest room prepared for you, Miguel.” Grandma Park explained as she looked Miguel over, fully taking him in. “Although now that I can get a good look at you, I’m worried the bed may be too small for you.”

“It’s quite alright, Grandma Park, I’ll make do. No need to trouble yourself.” Miguel reassured her gently. “But I appreciate the concern.”

“I understand that sometimes certain things are done differently in the Americas, but forgive me if we’re a more. . . traditional household.” She added as we passed through the exit gates and stepped out into the cool spring breeze.

‘Is she implying what I think she’s implying?’ Miguel’s voice fluttered into my head through the physic-spider bond.

I held back a smirk as I responded. ‘Yes. Unless we’re married, no sleeping together in the same room.’

‘Aww, are you sure? I’d be more than willing to prove my self control. Your grandma can stitch up the bedsheets around me so I can’t cuddle you.’ Miguel’s hand carefully fell from my shoulder and delicately draped down my spine to rest on the small of my back. ‘Or touch you.’

My cheeks blushed a bright red as I went to elbow Miguel but missed. I nearly stumbled in my steps, gasping as a hand went up to my mouth. My grandparents turned towards me and my cheeks flushed darker.

“Lisa, are you alright?” Grandpa asked.

“Oh, I’m fine!” I coughed into my hand, clearing my throat as Miguel stood there and pretended he didn’t just take advantage of our physic bond and made it his mission to absolutely fluster me in front of my grandparents and make a fool out of myself. “Just caught a sneeze.”

Grandpa hummed deeply as he looked around. “There has been an uptick in pollen allergies this spring.”

“Here Tokki, I brought an extra mask.” Grandma park dug around in her fanny pack and pulled out the disposable mask and handed it to me. “Wear it just in case until we get to the house, I’ll make you some tea when we get there.”

With a defeated smile I accepted the mask from her. “Thank you, grandma.”

“Where is– Ah! There’s the car.” Grandpa pointed out in a direction further down the arrival gate parking lane and led the way down.

I tore through the packaging and slipped the mask over my face. Once it was on, I made sure grandma and grandpa weren’t looking before I reached up and pinched Miguel’s arm. I could see his pupils go wide, eyebrows rising as he shot me a look.

My eyes spoke volumes as the mask hid my face, and I spoke through the bond. ‘Behave, Miguel~’

‘I’m always on my best behavior.’ he replied with a roll of his eyes. His gaze softened quickly after. ‘Are you alright, though? Was that. . . too much?’

I thought about it, and my mind immediately reeled back to the conversation we had during dinner with my mom before my Marvel Day show. There’s been a spare intimate touch here and there, and we have been just sleeping together, but other than that, we haven’t really gone any further than sweet little make out sessions. Even during that, Miguel kept things respectful and never tried to push or pressure me.

That interaction just now. . . It was risque, yes, but somehow. . . it felt normal.

‘It was okay. I’m okay.’ I reassured him as we approached my grandparents car.

It was only then did I notice that they had a personal driver?!

There was a man maybe 20 years younger than my grandparents wearing a black trench coat and paperboy cap as he opened the car door, a Mercedes Benz truck and prepared our luggage for the trunk.

“Do you have a personal driver now?” I gawked in surprise.

What exactly happened the last 2 years I was gone?!

“Jin would often help and drive us around when we need him, but since he started going through therapy and his exercises, and your harabeoji’s arthritis is acting up again, we encouraged him to take a break so we hired our own driver.” Grandma Park explained before introducing the driver to us. “This is Ha Joon.”

“Nice to meet you.” Ha Joon greeted us with a curt bow of his head. “If you ever require my services, I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you, we’ll certainly keep that in mind.” Miguel offered him a polite smile and bowed his head towards him in turn.

I was relieved Miguel seemed to be taking all of this rather well. I was worried he’d be a nervous wreck during the whole trip as soon as we got off the plane, but other than the slight scare of screaming fans at the arrival gate, he seemed to be handling himself well. Unless he’s somehow masking it insanely better than I can try to hide my emotions around him and he’s holding it all in for my sake.

“Remember now, Lisa, it will be a long drive from here to Gangnam. Do you and Miguel need anything before we go?” Grandma Park asked as she looked between us.

My eyes met Miguel, and he too seemed to ask a silent question in his eyes. Are you ready to go see him?

Taking a deep breath, I met my grandmother’s gaze and shook my head. “No, I think we’re ready to go!”

“Splendid!” Grandma Park applauded us. “Let’s not waste time now.”

We all climbed into the truck, grandpa sitting up front with their driver Ha Joon while grandma sat in the back row and Miguel and I took the middle seats. This was a lot different than the last car I recalled them owning. It almost reminded me of a more domestic version of Miguel’s Ferrari, the interior alone screamed sleek and chic.

The car ride from the airport to my grandparent’s home was almost 2 hours, and over the course of the journey we all made small talk, and due to the heat, Ha Joon pulled over into a popular dessert cafe and grandpa got us all ice cream to cool off. Miguel would occasionally glance at his gizmo, and I had assumed he was exchanging messages with Lyla, Peter B., and Jessica to make sure things were going smoothly back in his dimension. Miguel asked my grandma about the Gangnam district and how long they had lived there, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Oh we bought this house and moved in just after Jin and Janet married. We got lucky and managed to snag it for $2.4 million!” Grandma Park answered him with a proud smile.

“Only?” He looked at her in surprise, I couldn’t tell if he was faking it for her sake or being genuine.

“Yes! We’re very blessed to have it and I don’t take it for granted every day, and when Lisa finally came over and visited us for the first time that one Christmas I was over the moon!”

Gangnam may not be Hannam-Dong, the most rich and elite and also gated community neighborhood in the country, but owning a home in Gangnam was nothing to scoff at. Gangnam was considered one of, if not the most upscale and modern districts in Seoul. They had everything from nightclubs, high end restaurants, cafes, bistros, and gleaming skyscrapers. My grandma’s favourite thing about living there was the boutiques and shopping malls.

“I can admit it, I may have developed a little shopping habit after we moved here, but they have everything!” Grandma Park laughs sweetly. “I loved taking Lisa there and spoiling her there.”

“If we have time, I’d love to see everything.” Miguel smiled at her, a friendly gleam in his eyes.

“Of course, I’d love to show you around, Miguel! We can all go later today and get you some clothes to go with dinner tomorrow night!” She beamed.

“Are we not having the family dinner at the house?” I asked her, appearing confused.

I was still getting comfortable with the idea of even sitting at a table with my step-father again for the first time in so long. What would the seating arrangements look like? Would I have to sit next to him? If we’re eating out, it might help ease my nerves a little. But what if he said something that would upset me? Would I risk causing a scene and leaving everyone at the restaurant?

“Oh we are, but knowing your grandmother she likes to make these events extra special.” Grandpa smiled as he casted his wife a knowing look.

“Well of course it’s a big deal! Lisa is back after being away for so long.” Grandma Park cooed as she looked at me with a soft expression. “We missed you terribly, Tokki.”

“I missed you too.” I smiled softly before my expression fell in a small frown. “I’m. . . I’m sorry for not really contacting you all after, well, everything. . .”

“Oh, Lisa, we understand. You were going through so much.” Grandma Park reassured me softly as she set her ice cream cup aside and gently took her hands in mine. “We had thought on countless occasions to reach out to you but after talking with Janet we didn’t want to make you feel as if we were pressuring you. You needed time to heal. Truth be told. . . we all did.”

I glanced over at Miguel who stayed silent through the whole thing, watching us all as he gave me a comforting smile, encouraging me to go on. I looked back at my grandmother. “Still, I cut contact with you due to mere association. That. . . that was a little harsh of me to do.”

“You were protecting yourself, Tokki. You had no way of knowing if we knew about his behavior and how it affected you.” Grandma Park squeezed my hand tightly, her eyes pouring into mine. “Gwaenchanh-a.” - It’s alright.

My gaze softened as I listened to her and suddenly my vision went blurry. I raised a hand to gently wipe the tears from my eyes and I heard movement as I opened my eyes to see not just Miguel, but my grandma as well offered me napkins to dry my tears. We all looked at each other before my grandma erupted with laughter and then Miguel and I followed quickly after, all the while my grandpa watched on with a soft smile.

Before I even knew it, we arrived at the Park Estate in Gangnam. There’s an iron gate that opens up after detecting the car’s presence before going up a long private driveway before parking across from the garage. The house was on a long narrow stretch of well trimmed grass with faded cobblestone steps meshed into the ground leading to the main stairwell. The house itself looked like a few giant white building blocks smushed together, with giant windows allowing plenty of natural light in. There were two main floors, plus the basement level, but if I learned anything from Doctor Who and the Tardis, what looks small on the outside, is actually quite larger on the inside.

Upon entering through the main door, the door bell chimes a cute little tune, announcing our arrival. As Miguel and I set our bags down, high pitched yapping catches my ear as I look over and see a white fluffy cloud with paws come barreling towards us.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you!” Grandma Park laughed as she scooped up the furball in her hands and brought the snow white pomeranian closer towards me. “This is Pom Pom, the newest addition to our family.”

“She’s so cute!” I smiled brightly as I gently scratched her behind the ears.

“Jin’s therapist suggested it last year, to try and uplift his spirits and help him reintroduce the concept of taking care of another living thing under his care in a positive environment. I’d say it’s helped him quite well.” She explained.

“He’s been taking care of her?” I asked curiously.

If it wasn’t for the gap between the events of what happened, I’d wouldn’t know exactly how to feel about my step-father caring for another living creature after what he put me through.

“Oh yes, they’re nearly inseparable.” She insisted before gently putting the dog down, and Pom Pom immediately scampered over to Miguel, smelling his feet.

“Uh, nice– Pom Pom?” Miguel tensed up, trying not to move as he looked down at the door.

“It’s alright, she is just curious. She’s very friendly once she’s warmed up to new people.” Grandma Park reassured him before glancing over towards Grandpa. “Show them to their rooms and I’ll get started on the tea.”

Grandpa nodded as we all watched Grandma Park hurry along, Pom Pom following her at the heel. “Do you remember the layout, Lisa?”

“It’s been a while, but everything is starting to come back to me.” I answer honestly as I take in the interior of my once second home.

The walls were a bright monochrome white with wooden shelving. Although I don’t remember it being so blinding to my eyes. Grandpa led the way as Miguel and I took our bags upstairs. Grandpa showed Miguel his room, and I couldn’t help but chuckle a little at seeing the bed and realizing what grandma said was right. It was a tad small for Miguel. Just looking at it I could tell his feet, and parts of his legs would be dangling from the edge of the mattress.

“You’re sure you can make do with that?” I asked him with a soft smirk.

“I’ve slept on much worse, don’t patronize me.” He scoffed back with a grin.

I raised my hands in defeat. “Alright tough guy.”

I let Miguel get settled in and unpack his stuff as grandpa led me down the hall to a familiar door at the end and opened it. My old room. It was just how I left it after leaving that summer. Grandma and grandpa let me stay with them for a few days to recover after the surgery and as soon as I was well enough to walk on my own and manage lifting things without intense pain, I packed my things and flew back to Toronto.

Only difference now, most of the K-Pop posters and ads for the company I went to the boot camp for were torn down from the walls. All except my posters of BLACK PINK. I smiled a little at that.

“Your grandma took the posters down, worried they might be considered a trigger.” Grandpa explained with a nervous rub of his neck. “But I convinced her to keep these ones up. We knew this group was your favourite growing up.”

“They still are. Thank you grandpa.” I smiled warmly at him.

“I’ll let you have a moment to unpack and settle. We’ll call you down when the tea is ready.” Grandpa nodded back at me with a kind smile as he reached for the door. As he was leaving, he stopped, the door creaking as he peeked around the corner and offered me the kindest smile I’d ever seen him show. “We really are happy to have you here with us. We missed you, Lisa.”

“I missed you too, grandpa.” My smile brightened a little more. “I’m happy to be here.”

Now to just convince myself that it truly was 100% the truth.

Grandpa gave me one more nod before shutting the door behind him, his footsteps fading as he walked away. I took a moment to breathe and sat on top of my suitcase and looked around. I just sat there and looked at my room, perfectly clean, no dust.

They really did want me to come back.

I felt a tear race down my cheek as I suddenly got goosebumps along my arms, and a chill up my spine. Like I got the feeling I was being watched somehow. I took a breath, convincing myself it was my nerves talking. I stood up and pulled my suitcase up to my bed and had barely started to unpack when there was a knock at my door.

So much for the nerves.

“Come in.” I spoke up, my heart fluttering nervously.

The door creaked open and I withheld a sigh of relief when Miguel walked in. “Your grandma really pulled out all of the stops.”

“What did she do?” I asked him curiously as I organized my clothes.

“She had a bathrobe custom tailored to my size. It’s softer than the pajamas we got on the plane!” He exclaimed in surprise, sitting at the edge of my bed.

“She likes to spoil.” I commented with a faint smirk, recalling old memories as I started putting away my clothes in my old dresser.

I could feel Miguel’s gaze on me and the urge to talk to me, to ask me over a dozen questions that must be fluttering around in that big brain of his. He stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looked around.

“So this was your room, eh?” A soft smile was on his face as he glanced over, eyeing one of my posters.

“Whenever I wasn’t working overtime at camp, my grandparents invited me to stay here with them on weekends. It. . . was kind of a sanctuary.” I admitted softly as I glanced his way.

“I can imagine.” Miguel nodded with a knowing look, and it didn’t take me long to realize he was thinking about our past conversation on the balcony at Spider Society HQ. The talk where I admitted all the hardships I– that Jin put me through.

“I don’t recall you having this many posters of them back in New York.” Miguel teased as he motioned his head over to one of my BLACK PINK posters. “They really are a favourite of yours?”

“Only the greatest girl group I’ve ever heard.” I smirked confidently as I stepped away from the bed and came to Miguel’s side.

“What are their names?” He asked. “You’ve never mentioned it to me before.”

I raised a curious brow towards Miguel. Why now of all times would he ask me that? Was it to distract me? To keep me calm? Not that I was complaining per say. I’d love to share one of my interests with him if he wanted to.

“There’s Jisoo, Rosé, Jennie, and Lisa.” I pointed them all out with a big smile.

“I take it Lisa is your favourite?” Miguel asked me with a knowing smirk, an arm wrapped around my waist. “Sorry, bias I believe is the term?”

“You’re learning!” My eyes lit up in surprise as I applauded Miguel. “Yes, she is. Nicely done.”

“Is it because you share the same name?” He teased softly, looking down at me.

I laughed at his teasing, shaking my head. “The most obvious reason, sure, but it’s more to it than that. She’s–”

My gaze wandered as I started to ramble before I stopped suddenly. My gaze fell upon the window, peering through the glass and landing on a figure in the backyard garden of the estate.

“Lisa?” Miguel’s voice called out to me, and I found myself moving free from his hold. “Something wrong?”

I walked over to the window and looked out fully into the garden and that’s when I saw him.

Jin Park sat on a stone bench in the garden, wearing a traditional robe and drinking what looked like green tea from a cup. Pom Pom came running outside towards him, her yapping loud but slightly muffled from my place on the second floor. There was a smile on his face as he knelt down from the bench, his tea cup in one hand as he lowered the other to pet Pom Pom’s head.

His gaze flickered up and we locked eyes.

My heart skipped a beat and I found myself to be as frozen as a statue. Sensing my shift, Miguel stepped over to my side.

“What is it?” His gaze followed mine through the window and that’s when he saw him. “Is that him?”

“Step-father. . .” I uttered.

Miguel’s hand returned to my waist, squeezing it tightly and through the bond I could sense his cold, near bombastic glare towards Jin.

He waved at me, but in that moment, I found myself unable to move, let alone wave back.

******

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remembertheplunge · 1 year ago

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6/8/1986. Placerville, El Dorado County, California. Jan's house.

Gorgeous spring day in June. It makes you feel like a part of the landscape. After an evening with Jan and Beth and Jack. Beth was Jan's 5 year old grand daughter. Jack is maybe 35. He is black. He is divorced. Has a half white, half black child and has been married to a white woman. He built a house, put his all into it and then lost it in a divorce action with his wife. Jan believes least possibly because he is black he lost his house. I guess what she really meant was that he is black in all white El Dorado County. I felt a bit of resistance being there with him. I threatened their new relationship. And so, between that, Beth blaring Sesame Street and me doing a job skills exercise from the book “What Color is my Parachute?”which totally freaked me out, I had to get out of there. I don’t believe Jan completely understands why. I used the agitation to move because I have a million things to do today.

I sit here in one of my favorite coffee places in Sacramento sipping coffee and eating a cheese blintz.

I was writing earlier at a bar restaurant in Old Sacramento called Fat City. Just as I was writing there two pages back “The beat goes on”, I was interrupted by a guy who said “Wow, a guy with a book in here. I do that, too. This is my seat." And, with that, we launched into a beautiful conversation about life, the spirit (he is agnostic), work, and the job hunt. He married a black woman (he is white). He divorced. He is now married to a blind woman. They have a little girl. He won $10,000 in the Lottery. (I’m seeing more and more now that lack of money is a big source of my frustration. Maybe living in a smaller place would be OK, or even taking in a quiet room mate. You know, that’s a possibility I haven’t fully considered. Hmmmmmm. Oh, I like my space. Maybe I can find a little back house somewhere.)

At any rate, the guy, John, wants to invest his $10,000 in an agate lamp business. I encouraged him to do so. I know that I would love to have one. He currently works in a prison as a teacher of graphic arts. Last week, he received a death threat in a note that included his address. He is scared and I believe well he should be. He wants to switch jobs. He is very liberal and always smiles. Maybe a new friendship will evolve!

Last evening with Jan was magical. We watched a candle burning machine with racing angels and spinning windmill cast shadows into heaven via their reflections in a window. We meditated on faint blue light from people circle candle. It simply would not die. . Hope burns on. Jack said “Doesn’t take much to entertain you two.”I did a psychic reading for Jan. I told them that ghost touched my hand as I lie waiting for sleep. She has spirits in her house that touch and feel now . Gene has many that visit him. We talked about our sexuality. A woman friend told Jan that her relationship with Jack , a younger black man, was just a step to a totally solo relationship with a woman. I said, hey, if you don’t want that, don’t do it. That’s as bad as faking a straight relationship when you are not straight. Jan said that some believe that it is the ultimate statement of liberation of women.

In her striving to be liberated though, she goes a bit overboard. She not only sent me to the store to buy the majority of fixings for dinner and breakfast. I had to help prepare the dinner, do the dishes, put them in the dish washer. When all the dishes would not fit in, she asked me to stick them in, anyway. I said “N0” nicely. Enough is enough.

For an occasional overnight guest such as I, forced labor and payment is uncool. But, she’s done this before.

I just needed my space today. I am very glad I got outta there. Now I sit here enjoying the symphony—the taste of coffee in my mouth, the hum and whirl of some machine in here, the day’s waiting prospects, etc. Must go out into the world again. Bye. LW

#journaling #writing #gay #spiritual awakening #mix marriage #divorce #woman's liberation #need for alone time 6/8/1986

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dzpenumbra · 2 years ago

Text

1/10/23

Weird day. Just... off. I woke up after about 5-6 hours of sleep. Cat really wanted food, wouldn't let me go back to sleep. I got her food, got a Monster and collapsed in my comfy chair, popped my headphones on, put on some mindless YouTube and passed out for another few hours.

Yoga was very chill and low-key today. More about meditation and stillness, relaxation, than strain. But there were a bunch of people making a ton of noise in the hallways while that was happening, which kinda killed the vibe. Can't wait for the earbuds to get here tomorrow.

I showered. I went up to the package room to get my snacks from... Inferno Candy Company. And I will admit, this was a big-time gamble. But I have a hot sauce that is habanero/ghost pepper that I used for a while pretty much every morning, so I'm not completely new to real-deal hot peppers. I got the Brian Ambs DorHEATos - which are absolutely delicious and just within the threshold of bearable heat-wise. And I got a variety pack. And in the variety pack, there is some pretty savage shit. Like... pretty much everything in it has Carolina Reapers in it. And I've never had anything above a Ghost Pepper. So... Tonight, after eating an entire pizza for dinner... I decided to try an "Inferno Cookie" that was labeled as "Snackable to Medium Heat". I can say right off the bat, I took a little bite of this thing, it is 100% hotter than the Dorheatos, which they classified as Medium heat. It was absolutely hotter. It has both Scorpion and Reapers in it. That thing lit my mouth up real quick.

It wasn't unbearable, it was very similar to a habanero sting, so I'm guessing that was the Scorpion I was feeling? I'm still very new to the spicy world. But yeah, I don't know man, I might've gotten myself in over my head a bit! Maybe I'll keep them around for like... fun novelty challenges for all the visiting friends I have over, so if they feel like puking or uncontrollably shitting in my bathroom, they're just one golden packaged snack away from their wish come true.

My mom called around dinner time. And as I picked up, I went "I should really make dinner while I talk to her." (spoiler alert - I got distracted and didn't) And when I got up to go to the kitchen, I noticed a letter under my door. It was an unpaid bill. And I got really stressed and overwhelmed. Those feelings just hit me so damn hard sometimes. And the number on the bill was a lot bigger than I was expecting. And my mom just started doing what she reflexively does... the same thing she did with my internet account when I was locked out of my router, which caused the last catastrophic fight... just starts... doing shit without telling me. Just like, taking control of the situation and ordering me to help her. It did not go well for like... at least an hour or two, but something broke through the wall. I have no clue what it was. I don't remember. I even remember discussing with her this phenomenon of coming to some profound realization in an important conversation and then later that day it's just... gone. And how that's why I started using that moment as an opportunity to train new habits, rather than try to hold on to the lesson and train new habits later. But yeah, we kinda unraveled that it's kinda just... how she's used to dealing with problems around her house, I guess? With my dad. That it's better to just... take over and shut him up than to try and help him figure it out himself, because he has very little desire to learn. It feels like I'm talking shit when I say that, but it's factually accurate, it's a weird one. Like... if he didn't come up with it? He doesn't wanna learn it. I think it's a pride thing. I dunno. It's so alien to me.

So yeah, we got it resolved, which is good, but ugh. It just that snowball effect. I get stressed out - my stress sets off my "support's" defense mechanisms - I have to help my "support" calm down - then I have to calm myself down - then I have to deal with the problem that started it all, usually alone. It has led me very often to this lament of like... "wouldn't I be better off alone?" "Wouldn't it be better if I just... didn't express my emotions?" "Wouldn't it be safer if I kept my feelings to myself?" And... yeah. I can see how I would've grown up that way. It took me many years and a lot of constant training to be able to express my inner voice as authentically and confidently as I do. I've always been pretty in touch with my feelings, but... internally. Because expressing them outwardly... Let's just say some people aren't too fond of emotions. Some people like to carve the world into black and white - rational and irrational. And drain all the color out of it. All the feeling, all the romance, all the experience. And then they wonder why they don't understand their own feelings... Go figure. Imagine finding a balance... <shrug>

I'm fuckin wiped. I passed out in my comfy chair again after dinner for like an hour. I played a little Session. Now I'm getting ready for bed at 3:30 again. Ugh. I'll get this sleep thing stable someday, I swear.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

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renatedagmarmilada · 2 years ago

Text

Canada or America? Before and for a while after my ex left us, I had some very strong dreams, something I normally never do. One was thus:

I had to save Joe (now I see why only Joe was in the dream) we crawled on our bellies through out war torn Europe. Eventually we got to safety, my old children's home

in Bavaria. All was empty, the ground scorched, the trees burn out shapes..I settled him to sleep in the glass conservatory at the end of the building..

him in the corner, I in the middle to keep him safe and to listen out..in the night, though the sky was always at half darkness, a thousand green hands

reached up to pull me down, but he slept safely................................

Another I had was the aegre was coming..rapidly. We were locked in a room, the room had old dark brown oil paint doors etc and no windows.

Somehow I got the children out, but I remained locked in the room, and could only watch as the boys played cricket and rachel pushed around a

doll's pram...they looked happy and didn't even notice my mysery at my prison...playing cricket on the grass as the aegre calmed down and flowed by.

One day when I was walking down a street called Mary street, after we had returned from New Zealand, I suddenly saw not the street but fires burning

and blazing everywhere..all around..everything around me set on fire.

Charles, please don't sneer, we have an odd gift.

You remember the poem in Battleships...of the NEpalese. On Sunday that week, I said to Joe I must go to India...I got there on Tuesday, it happened on

Wednesday. Time and again this has happened in my life.

The Painting of the Princess Diana in the centre of the book, painted in August..the nuns her face destroyed by the car crash ..I was in Leipzig, I cried all night.

A neighbour over the road before died in the night, I wept and cried all night, didn't know..that afternoon, dressed in white by chance, I came up the road

her funeral.

I was on my PGCE..suddenly I went crazy I just had to get to Russia, I had to - I went mad I had to get to Russia. I left my PGCE and went..that week

they brought the bones of the Tsar Nicholas II..

It just has all been in my mind..everything, every little thing. I don't think about it then there it is in front of me again..what every had been said or done.

For your information when I was in america, in Washington I saw a desert - in Florida I saw a thick forest and us living in a little house with trees right

upon us, a bear came up...

Countries have effects on me, I see other pictures than what is in front of me. All the countries I have been to have put pictures into my mind..

Often, mainly it is what I see that I paint.

Now scoff and tell me I am a loony.

It comes from my mother, from the Mongolian side of the family. Ryan has it strongly, but they have as good as killed Ryan (maybe because of it)

and Rachel has it too.

Your crack put friend, but it is all true and much more..

I paint people in the corners of my life whom I never see or should know about. Ok I tried to ignore it since I was small, please dear God, I want to be normal not a freak.

then an american explained it, it has to do with those electric circuits in our brains and now I understand and no longer think I am freak.

By the way, when I was in labour with Shaun for five days, I was near death, suddenly the pain went and I was in a tunnel, with electric lights flashing

since then I have little fear and stick to absolute honesty.

I should have told you I was a freak as there is so much more. I keep away from Yoga etc purposely because the catholic church forbids it and I don't want

to build on my freakishness. I used to sit and meditate a bit and man I don't take drugs, drink or smoke but you should have seen some of the results.

The lab has had the scribblings stolen - here some of it: I had gone to Austria with a party of english, they are disgusting..look, I don't understand,

a catholic country at Christmas..on my way back from midnight mass I found the forget me nots from our dinner table miles away trodden into the snow.

I am sorry but the english a savages of the worst kind. On the way back we passed by Berchtesgarten..at the time the English were jeering at the german

border guards..but later I saw an old man, a table, a telegram, his son had been killed on the russian front.

I saw my father going far away too, long before I met my mother, in my mind, a long long road and a grave. The lab has robbed the paintings of that.,,

as a small child I saw it, as an adult I saw it..If you don't write anymore I will understand.

Renate

why I keep quiet about such ''visions'' even if the Princess does die, and the oil refinery near Mary street does blow up and friends husbands are killed etc indeed it blows up three times.

I thought that it is about sensitivity. Doc, most people appear to me to run around as though they have no heads, see nothing but shopping, tv, going 'out' etc..I lead a very quiet life, I work hard, every day of the week, but do not indulge in drink or such, try not to gossip other than when to point out that something is normal or as an example though I have a laugh with close friends and family. When in pain I don't like medicines as I feel they just cover the pain instead of letting me cope with it...remembering that I do not have a diseased body. If it were disease coping, I should probably react differently.

Now we all could see that the Princess was running around in agony ..I think that is where the painting came from, deep in the subconscious and so on. The only thing note worthy is that I am not a cryer and only rarely have I cried for myself or other people, and these are distant persons with future tragedies. I too think it is better just to paint them and leave...I do not like this demented reaction to such 'personal reactions'.. So I never talk of them, only occassionally to someone I think a lot of. I know the Church is against them also..

But I did feel you should know of my reactions. I also thought that as I have never had a stable home or place, or language, a part of my senses which is dormant in many people is still working..

that seems the sensible explanation to me

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tweeterwilbury · 11 months ago

Note

Additions to this post because i sent it to a friend today and that made me remember about it;

"George Harrison came to Woodstock that fall. We’d appreciated what both he and Eric Clapton had been saying about us in print. It was encouraging to have the Beatles say they were fans of ours. At one point there was discussion of recording with George and Eric, who came to see us a little later on. We talked about doing a fireside jam, real informal, with American and British players and a lot of beer, but nothing ever came of it. Bob and Albert were fighting pretty good by then, so that might have had something to do with nothing like that happening for us.

“Hi, I’m George. Nice to meet you.” That’s what he was like. Very quiet. I think he was with us for Thanksgiving at Bob’s house, and we jammed a little bit and swapped some songs. George and Bob wrote a couple of things together, and there was much talk of us being in a rock western called Zachariah that Apple Films was promoting. We were maybe going to do the music with George, but in the end the script was silly—MTV fifteen years ahead of schedule—and it didn’t happen."

This is from Levon's memoir, about George going to see them. I think it's interesting the difference between Levon saying "That’s what he was like. Very quiet." and Robbie's "When George inquired about the Band’s recording methods, I could barely keep up with him." and "But George was one of the most open people I’d ever met".

And Levon also mentioned this:

"Around this time we got a letter from George Harrison, who complained that EMI released Music From Big Pink in England in a single sleeve instead of the double-fold jacket of the American version. They printed the title and name of the group over Bob’s painting and threw out the “Next of Kin” photo. George was a big advocate for us, being quoted in the British press about how Music From Big Pink was the new sound to come from America and everybody better pay attention."

Now, I'm not sure about this next one, but...

I remember reading once that this picture is from that same thanksgiving, and that Richard was unpacking the groceries for the dinner. (Also, Richard used to call In a station "his george harrison song" and George told Richard about meditation one time in 1966. Extra little things)

And, finally, this picture is from that travel too! I have even read once that it was taken in Big Pink;

[Not a very interesting addition. I just felt like infodumping after I talked to my friend about this post.]

Okay I’m curious, what exactly is the story of George Harrison at Woodstock?

I will try to be brief.

Ok, so in 1968, right after the white album was released, George was invited to go to woodstock for the thanksgiving. As he said on I Me Mine; "I was invited there by The Band. It was Thanksgiving time and I'd just finished producing a Jackie Lomax album, directly after the Beatles 'White' Album."

He also mentions in an interview — I think it's for Musician, in 1987? — that he thinks he was invited there by Robbie Robertson.

Robbie mentions the visit in his memoir, Testimony, and he says that he had to convince Albert Grossman to let George stay at his house, and also that "Bob [Dylan] was keeping a very low profile, and when I asked him if he wanted to see George while he was in town, he too was a little iffy at first."

It's a very known fact that George was a big fan of Bob Dylan — he mentioned that in a lot of interviews, and everyone around him mentioned that too, besides the fact that he was always quoting Bob —, and during that time in Woodstock, he wrote two songs with Bob.

The first one is I'd have you anytime:

I have a post about the unused lyrics for that song that might be interesting for now.

George mentions in I Me Mine that "He [Bob] seemed very nervous, and I felt a little uncomfortable — it seemed strange, especially as he was in his own house.", and he also says that the song was written in the third day there. Later, Olivia mentioned that, when George wrote the lines 'Let me in here, I know I've been here, Let me into your heart', he was "directly talking to Bob".

The second song that they wrote together was...

One thing about this song: it wasn't finished. There are only demos of it. But it still is a very interesting song... in the lyrics on I Me Mine, there is this unused part:

That was substituted with "I get tired of being Beatle Jeff" / "I get tired of being Beatle Ted".

One fun fact about that song is that it had different names through the years. This was mentioned the George Harrison website: "Nowhere To Go was a collaboration between George and Dylan from their 1968 Thanksgiving visit that also yielded ‘I’d Have You Anytime’. It was first called ‘Thingymubob’, then ‘When Everybody Comes to Town’. ‘I Get Tired’ was also a working title and finally, by the time of the All Things Must Pass sessions, it is titled ‘Nowhere To Go’."

George mentioned the song using the title 'Thingymubob' in a letter to Bob, where he wrote the chords of the song.

Going back to The Band, Robbie said this, on testimony: "I was very curious about recording techniques the Beatles had discovered. George described their process as extremely experimental and sometimes accidental. I could definitely relate to that. When George inquired about the Band’s recording methods, I could barely keep up with him. For every question I posed to him, he asked me two about [Music From] Big Pink and The Basement Tapes [...]"

He also said this: "But George was one of the most open people I’d ever met, and Pattie was one of the prettiest and sweetest. George spoke incredibly candidly about the problems within the Beatles. John, he said, was far out on a limb, testing his balance. “Kinda crazy,” he laughed. And our dear Ringo was following in the tradition of many a hard-drinking Brit—apparently he had threatened to quit the band at one point. George was quick to admit there were serious tensions between Paul and him. 'Whenever I present a tune, the Lennon and McCartney songwriting team will ignore it as long as they can,' he said. 'Sometimes I even have to fight for my guitar parts. Paul has such a clear idea of how the song should go that he tells me what to play, or he wants to play it himself.'"

Two very interesting things here: the fact that George was talking about the problems in the Beatles, and also the fact that he was very interested in asking about the band records.

From I Me Mine; "When I wrote 'All Things Must Pass', I was trying to do a Robbie Robertson-Band sort of tune and that is what it turned into." He also mentioned that, while writing the song, he always thought about Levon singing it. (I'm not sure about where he mentioned that, tho.)

There are some songs that Bob showed to George on that time and he played later — for example, I threw it all away, a song that was released on Nashville Skyline, was played by George during the get back sessions, in january 1969, even before Bob recorded his version, and also I don't want to do it, that was released by George in 1985 —, and that travel was basically the start of a long collaboration in music, between George and Bob.

Also, George talking about the problems in the Beatles during that travel makes Nowhere to Go have even more sense. And then, when the beatles got together to record an album, it was on the get back/let it be sessions.... when he famously quit the beatles for some days.

Well, i think I've talked a lot, but that's basically the story. George also gave a guitar to Bob, but I'm not sure about when that happened — especially because he used that guitar during the get back/let it be sessions, and then on the abbey road sessions...

Anyway, here are two pictures; in the first, Bob and George, and in the second, Robbie and George.

AND THAT'S IT! i think. Sorry if this wasn't brief at all. It took me one hour and a half to write all this, so i think i probably got lost somewhere and maybe i am forgetting something.

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perpetuelledaydreaming · 3 years ago

Text

Cruel Intentions | chapter one

summary: best way to call a guy's attention? Put on some rock. you’re enjoying messing with Peter until he gets too close to figuring out what you have actually been doing at night. He’s definitely not as clueless as he seems.

warnings: swearing.

listen to: The Chain -Fleetwood mac | Lets be friends - Emily Osment (playlist here)

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on ko-fi!

As the elevator doors opened you knew exactly what you were doing to call Peter’s Parker attention, so you smirked as you walked through the hallway in the middle of the multiple labs. The glass walls of Peter’s lab (which had just been given to him the last week) were blurred, letting you know that he was probably working on a confidential project.

You wondered if it had anything to do with Tony’s suit, knowing that your dad liked to keep those things to himself or shared them with his inner circle, except for you. You sighed as you kept walking to your lab but soon, Harley stepped out of his lab with a bag, he was leaving at 11:00 pm just as you thought. At another time, Tony wouldn’t leave the lab until almost 3:00 am but as soon as Morgan was born, he stepped out at 7:00 to have dinner with Pepper and her, and he would simply wake up at 4:00 to start his days.

Harley’s eyes widened as he saw you. “Whoa, seeing you two times in a week here, are you planning on returning to the gig?”

“You know that’s not possible, right?” you responded. “Unless dad’s having a stroke he’s not letting me anywhere near his lab.”

Harley laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah, I get it so why are you still here?” he asked.

“Oh, just wanted to be by myself,” you muttered as you looked away from Harley, eyes flashing for a second to Peter’s lab.

“On a Friday night?” Harley asked as he frowned.

You rolled your eyes as you played with your fingers. The thing was that you could lie pretty easily to anyone and other than maybe Pepper or Tony, no one usually suspected that something was wrong, and then there was Harley who seemed to know everything by just looking at your eyes.

You wondered if it was because he had lived with you almost every summer since Tony had met with him when he fought the Mandarin, and then went to live with you when he graduated high school. He was basically your brother, although after what had happened you had fallen apart a little bit. Still, you didn’t resent him at all and you mostly got along.

“Yeah, now leave me alone,” you grumbled as you started to walk away from him but before you could enter your lab Harley called on you.

“y/n!” he called and you turned around with a hesitant gaze. “Be careful,” he stated simply before walking towards the elevator and leaving.

You asked HAPPY to close the door immediately as you meditated on Harley’s words, what was he referring to? Your first guess was that you were thinking of doing some crazy rebellious thing in your lab, maybe have sex with someone there or bring a bunch of people which you were aware you would never do because labs (at least as you’d grown up in) were a sacred place. Then you figured you’d given yourself away by looking at Peter Parker’s lab for a second but Harley wasn’t that close to Peter anyway, not unless you hadn’t noticed something; and then your mind went to the farthest place, had he figured out what you were actually doing at night?

You didn’t allow yourself to think of that possibility, you were sure you’d been careful enough and always had made up an alibi, plus the last time you’d done it, Harley wasn’t even in town.

Therefore, you simply brushed it off before actually getting to work on your secret project but as you asked HAPPY to turn on your holograms, you also asked him for another thing.

“HAPPY, drop my needle,” you stated as you rolled in your chairs towards the main desk of your lab.

Before you knew it, the beat of The Chain started to rumble through your lab, you smirked as you started to move your body to the music.

“A little bit louder HAPPY, I don’t want to listen to my thoughts right now,” you asked again as the music was louder and the glass walls started to shake.

And then you started to work, knowing it was simply a matter of time before the boy with the chocolate curls and a constellation of freckles on his face would come to your door. But you tried not to think too much about it, you wanted your reaction to being natural and you actually needed to get some work done in there.

You moved some things around regarding some commands that you’d previously designed, as you’d come to realize that they weren’t fast enough in the field and since you didn’t have access to Tony’s latest technology, you simply had to start from scratch or just hack him but you wanted to try it by yourself. Nonetheless, a minute or so later, Peter Parker was at your door.

“Ms,” HAPPY stated as he turned the music down a bit. “Mr. Peter Parker, it’s at your door, should I let him in?”

“Let him, please.”

The door opened instantly and your eyes landed on Peter Parker, who was awkwardly standing in the doorway. He was wearing something completely different than the last time you’d seen him. His dark jeans, some converse, and a navy blue knit sweater that hugged his lean figure nicely causing you to feel a sudden craving deep down in your chest. His curls were tamer than before and darker than when you last saw him but his eyes were still the same chocolatey hazel color as before

“Come in,” you yelled as you peeled your eyes away from him and focused on your work.

“Hey, can you keep it down, please?” Peter asked, and although you knew he was screaming, you could feel somehow he was being soft about it.

“HAPPY, turn it down!” you ordered and soon the music dialed down, only leaving it softly.

You didn’t turn towards him just yet but you could still feel Peter’s gaze on your body, which was something you hadn’t planned. You just wanted to wear a comfortable matching set that you usually wore to wind down, it consisted of some short oversize shorts and a sweater.

It made you a bit self-conscious so you turned towards him with a soft smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize there was anyone else here when I saw Harley leaving,” you said earnestly as you got closer to him.

He indeed smelled like cinnamon but you detected a scent of honey too, you felt as if your heart started to beat faster because of it.

“Yeah, no I’m still here,” Peter said softly, his eyes still trained on you.

“I can see that,” you answer with an even larger smile, and as you looked him directly into his eyes, knowing that could cause him to be a bit nervous.

Peter remained quiet, a ghost of a smile on his face and although many people would find it extremely awkward, you instead welcome the silence and the closeness to him as Peter smirked back at you, although you could swear that his cheeks were starting to get pink.

He gulped as he finally broke eye contact, which you celebrated mentally, as he walked towards your main desk while he examined the holograms.

“What are you doing?” he asked as his eyes were trained on the lights and the text, his eyes were moving so rapidly but you thought he was simply skimming through, you didn’t think he was so updated on the technology regarding the Iron suit to actually know what he was reading about.

“I’m just looking at some portal-” you shrugged but he quickly cut you off.

“- Mode for the interface of…” Peter’s words died down as he frowned and turned towards you, while you felt like vomiting.

Before you even realized your movements, you closed all the holograms at once with your arms so there was just you and Peter in your lab, you glanced at him with your lips pressed together as you tried to figure out what to say.

You were aware that Tony only worked with the smartest people, which right before Peter consistent on Harley, Bruce, Pepper, and you. But you weren’t aware that Peter Parker actually had the clearance to know or be at least aware of the technology and the programs used for the suits. How come Tony had let him in so easily? How did he know so much?

And Peter didn’t allow you to even meditate on those questions as he started to talk.

“What was…”

“You can’t tell Tony,” you blurted as you got closer to him than ever before as you realized his apprehensive expression when you mentioned the idea of lying to Tony.

“I-”

You felt nauseous at the thought of him saying no, knowing this could end up being the last thing that ruined your entire life and what was left of the family if Tony ever figured out, and beyond the bet, you needed to make sure this never got out.

“Peter,” you started, your voice coming a bit more wobbly than what you would’ve hoped for as you instinctively grabbed one of his hands. “Have you ever had a secret that’s so bad that could actually hurt people you love?”

Peter remained silent again as your gazes linked. The thing was that at the moment you couldn’t exactly read Peter Parker, which only caused you more distress, you could even hear your heart hammering in your chest and you wondered if Peter heard it too. This was the second time you’d met him and now your life was hanging by a thread that he was holding, your life was at his hands. You stared into those hazel brown eyes and there was something that flashed in his eyes as he heard your desperate plea.

You wondered if he understood.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he finally said softly and you could feel as if the air was once again filling your lungs but you still held his hand.

“You swear?”

“I swear,” he nodded as he smiled a bit while cocking his head.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly as you looked down and then up with the most genuine smile you believed you’d given in a while.

Your eyes returned to your hands holding, he still hadn’t let it go as somehow he caressed it, almost as if he was trying to calm you down but you let his go rather quickly when you started to feel your skin prickle at the way he was touching you.

Though you knew you shouldn’t be focusing on things like this, you turned towards where your bag was while you pretended to look for something, a bit flustered.

Peter understood that this was his cue to leave so he turned towards the door but as he walked, you heard his steps stopping.

“It’s dangerous, you know?” Peter stated as he looked at you with his lips pressed together.

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged as you gave a few steps towards where he was. “I like dangerous things sometimes,”

Peter couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve heard,” he stated before he was walking towards the door.

But you automatically froze and frown at his response.

“What else have you heard?” you asked and Peter turned around again.

“It’s just that you’re usually up to no good,” he shrugged as if whatever words he was saying had no meaning or no importance when indeed they carried too much weight and implications.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped at him as your eyes narrowed.

Peter picked it up and he started to stutter. “I- It’s nothing, it’s just that you’re a bit, Uhm, you know charming and, uhm”

“And?” you said as you stepped closer and closer to him until you were face to face.

“Wild and a little bit manipulative?” Peter’s face blushed so quickly, turning such a shade of red that you immediately felt defensive about what he was insinuating.

“What!?” you gasped and you instinctively gave him a rather aggressive tap on the shoulder, which you regretted immediately because usually, people would actually bruise. “You know, you could at least have the decency of telling me who’s bad mouthing me so I can have the opportunity to confront them!”

Which you were serious about and by the look that Peter was giving you, it was clear that you were fuming.

“And they have to add aggressive to the list,” Peter said as he shook his head before you now really punch him on the shoulder, but again Peter didn’t say anything if he felt it but he didn’t even flinch, which surprised you because usually, you were stronger. “y/n, not a chance. I’m a great secret keeper”

You rolled your eyes with a groan. “Was it Harley? Or my dad?”

“You do not trust your family, right?”

“Peter!” you exclaimed a bit exasperated with a pout on your face, hoping it might work.

“Sorry, y/n!” Peter said as he walked backward and then into the hallway.

“I don’t like you!”

Leaving you alone and extremely angry. You hadn’t even realized that you had any sort of connection to Peter outside of Stark Industries and you knew that you’d to figure out who was talking shit about you before Peter believed you were radioactive and wouldn’t want to get near you.

You quickly took your phone and started to text Harry for help but as you sent the text, your attention was caught by the characteristic sound of your alarm and you knew you had to go.

***

taglist: @walkintheprk @jeonzll

authors note: im actually floored by all the support I've received with this new fanfic. It's honestly so heartwarming to see your messages, you'd definitely made my month!!! I hope that you are excited for what's coming next. lmk what you think and I always always appreciate feedback. moreover i would appreciate a bunch if you supported me on ko-fi even one dollar makes the difference! thank you so much!

feedback is always welcomed

donate: help me with my laptop?

also maybe soon available on wattpad?

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whisperlullaby · 4 years ago

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Stuffed Full

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (AU)

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), breeding kink, language, adult themes, and a TON of really bad baking puns.

Words: 1162

Summary: Bucky finds his calling after his last tour, baking. It brings him to you and he can’t wait to start a family.

A/N: I cannot believe it is my wonderful cousin @buckyownsmylife’s birthday! This is a fic for her birthday challenge featuring breeding kink. I loved writing this it was SO MUCH FUN. I hope you love this my sweet cousin it is all for you! Please if you are under 18 do not read this fic. Thank you to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog and @river-soul for their beta work I appreciate you so much!

After Bucky got back from his last tour he was lost. Transitioning back to civilian life was harder than he thought and the trauma he endured followed him around like a shadow. Late one night, when the nightmares woke him up, he found himself pacing in the kitchen. Bucky pulled out his phone and started searching for ways to calm down. After passing several articles on meditation and mindfulness, he found a chocolate chip cookie recipe that was ‘perfect for a bad day.’ Pulling out the ingredients he started attentively following the directions. He felt such relief as he cracked the eggs and mixed the flour, creating some sad-looking cookies. After he took out the final batch he physically felt calmer.

He brought them to Steve to try and despite their unappetizing appearance, they were delicious. Bucky knew he had found a way to reintegrate back into civilian life with his baking. He spent months collecting recipes and testing out new ones, getting a little bit better each time he made something. His friend, Sam, even helped him set up an online store where people could order his various creations. That’s how he met you. You had placed an order for a birthday cake. He delivered the cake and when you opened the door his heart stopped. He almost dropped it right on the floor when you reached out to take the box from him, your fingers brushing over his.

“Thanks, nothing says happy birthday like eating an entire cake by yourself with a bottle of wine,” you chuckled humorlessly.

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together. “You’re spending your birthday alone?”

You looked up at him with sad eyes. “I sure am but I have the best cake in town! Anyway, I’m sorry to keep you. You probably have a lot of deliveries to make.”

“You were actually my last stop.” Bucky took in a deep breath. “If you’re interested, I could take you out for your birthday? Get you some dinner before you eat the cake?”

Your mouth dropped open before it turned into a shy smile. “Um, sure why not. Can you give me a half-hour? I need to change.”

Bucky noticed for the first time that you were wearing pajamas and raked his hand over his face.

“Of course doll, I’ll wait out here.”

All it took was that one date for Bucky to fall head over heels for you. The way you laughed sent fireworks through his body, and all those cheesy jokes you told? He could listen to them for hours, especially if you kept doing that thing with your nose when you told them. Bucky could physically feel his heart skipping a beat each time you looked at him with those beautiful eyes. He spent months wooing you until you finally decided to move in with him. He figured it was because he kept you well supplied in various baked goods, but he knew you loved him just as much as he loved you.

You came home early one day and caught Bucky in the kitchen testing out new recipes. The mixture of smells was enough to make your stomach rumble.

“Hey love, what are you making?”

Bucky turned around and greeted you with a brilliant smile. “Hey doll just trying out a new cinnamon roll recipe, brownies are cooling, and I’m washing some jalapenos for some jalapeno cornbread.”

You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s waist. “I’d like to get jalapeno pants.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh, he loved all of your corny jokes. “Sweetheart, are you this cream cheese frosting? Cause you’re on a cinnamon roll!”

You scoffed at the pun. “Bucky, my love, maybe stick to the baked goods and leave the puns to me.”

He turned around and pulled you in for a sweet kiss. “Baby I really knead you right now.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a handful of Bucky’s ass. “I just wanna take a bite out of your sweet buns.”

Bucky chuckled as he bent down to kiss you more passionately this time. Slowly he moved you back until you were pressed against the counter. His hands moved to the hem of your skirt pulling it up until it was bunched at your waist. He broke the kiss to spin you around and press you flat against the counter, the cool marble creating goosebumps on your skin. Bucky kneeled down, pulling your underwear down as he went. He brought his fingers to your clit, working slow circles over the bundle of nerves. Bucky laved his tongue over your core.

“Doll, you’re just like butter, I want you on everything.”

You laughed before Bucky continued his ministrations causing you to moan. “I always did say you were amazing in the kitchen.”

The vibration of Bucky’s low chuckle went straight to your core. He worked two fingers into you hitting your sweet spot with precision. Soon your orgasm washed through you and Bucky rose to pepper kisses on the back of your neck.

“Now sweetheart, let me get my sweet cream inside this creampuff.”

You burst out laughing as Bucky lined himself up. When he pushed in your laughs turned into a wanton moan. He placed a steadying hand in between your shoulders as his other grabbed your hips, setting a bruising pace. You could feel your orgasm building up again as Bucky’s thrusts got sloppier.

“I’m gonna put a bun in this oven,” he grunted. “Keep you full and round. Gonna look so beautiful walking around here growing my baby.”

“Buck, I’m gonna cum, fill me up. Wanna feel you cum inside me,” you mewled.

Your walls were milking Bucky’s cock as you came and after a few deep thrusts, he followed painting your walls with his spend. After a few minutes and sweet kisses he pulled out and helped clean you up.

“So, you want a baby?” You cocked an eyebrow at him and he blushed.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I want a family with you.” He gently ran his fingers across your cheek as you hummed in satisfaction.

You took in a deep breath and crinkled your eyebrows. “Bucky, did you put something in the oven?”

He gave a shy smirk, “Doll I thought that was obvious-”

You cut him off. “No Bucky, something's burning did you forget you put something in the oven?”

His eyes shot open as he ran to the stove and when he opened it puffs of black smoke billowed out. You doubled over laughing as he tossed the whole pan in the sink.

“Well, guess I know that leaving cinnamon rolls in the oven for that long burns them. Good to know.”

You placed a gentle kiss on Bucky’s cheek. “I can’t wait to start a family with you, but maybe we work on your attention to detail.”

Bucky gave a short laugh, “Our kids are gonna have one amazing mom that’s for sure.”

You grinned. “You butter believe it.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #baker!bucky #james barnes x reader #buckyownsmylife #happy birthday

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kodzuvii · 4 years ago

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ON TRACK! ✩ [14: so, I guess we’re soulmates?]

next: [15: the rock wannabe]

pairing - iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

genre - crack + fluff :) soulmate au!

synopsis - In a world where soulmates can hear the songs their partner is singing or listening too at any time, Iwaizumi Hajime wants to know who his soulmate is so he can give them a piece of his mind and tell them to stop singing along to soft lofi songs while he’s in the middle of practice because it’s seriously ruining his cool, calm, and collected image.

wc: 4k

warnings!: grammar issues plz ignore + awkward phone call between two overthinking teenagers?

a/n: this is severely long overdue and I apologize deeply for that. the taglist for this series is open! more info will be found in the note after the story! ty :)

“Nee-chan’s weakness #16: overthinks more often than usual when under a lot of pressure”

Akaashi loved you. He really did. But if the higher-ups gave him an option to choose a new older sister, then maybe, just maybe, he would consider taking it. As he watched you frantically pace around his room with your dog (who looked quite scared) in your arms, he wondered if you viewed him more of a personal therapist rather than a little sibling.

His evening was going normal. After a long day of practice, all he intended to do was read a book after dinner and maybe watch a movie with Tofu afterwards just before bed. Nowhere in his plans were for you to barge into his room unannounced with an evident look of panic on your face while mumbling incoherent words.

Your hair was a mess and you were clad in an oversized sweater and superman pajama pants with Tofu in one of your arms while your phone was being held tightly in your other hand. All he could get from the words leaving your lips at a 1.75 playback speed was “soulmate” and “phone call” and “not ready.”

Akaashi watched you stop in your tracks and pull out his desk chair. You plopped yourself onto the seat, face warm and flushed as you tried to recall how you were feeling. “No Keiji I’m telling you that any second now, my soulmate is gonna call me and uhm? Quite frankly, my brain can’t process that and I am fucking scared.”

Akaashi hummed, “nee-chan calm down.” Tofu then jumped out of your arms and leaped onto Akaashi’s bed. He walked up and cuddled up near the setters side which made Akaashi smile before turning his attention back to you.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your legs and spun around on his chair, “no Kei this is serious. This first phone call is basically equivalent to a meet-cute which also means the first impressions. I feel like his first impression already isn’t good because I literally injured his friend so this is my moment to redeem myself” you rambled.

Akaashi made eye contact with Tofu and even the poor dog looked concerned at your state.

“Kei, what if this is all a mistake? I mean the universe must be against me somehow right? What if he hates me the moment I answer and then next thing you know he’s telling me that he wants us to reject each other and then I’m gonna be left all alone to roam around this miserable world and-mph!”

You flinched back as you felt a soft pillow collide with your face and stop your ramble. You looked down at the pillow on the floor and snapped your head up to your brother, “what was that for!” Akaashi rolled his eyes and petted Tofu with his right hand, “you overthink too much” he replied simply.

You narrowed your eyes at him but you couldn’t come up with any comeback in your head. He was right after all. You groaned and stood up from the spinny chair and walked over to his bed before belly-flopping down. You leaned over and grabbed the blue pillow near his headboard and Akaashi watched as you screamed into the plush material.

You were losing it.

“This sucks Keiji, I’m terrible at phone calls. I don’t even answer Otosan’s phone calls so how the fuck am I supposed to answer my soulmates?”

In Miyagi, Iwaizumi unknowingly found himself in a similar state as you. The moon was shining from his window and the light cascaded a soft glow into his room. With his windows wide open, he could feel the cool breeze blowing in and slightly brushing over his face. But the breeze didn’t help calm his nerves at all.

Iwa was a simple guy, really he was.

As someone who meditated regularly as well as found good coping mechanisms that would help calm his stress levels down, you would think that he’d be relaxed in this situation.

But no, Iwa was also internally panicking. Being the stubborn boy he was, he tried to play it off and cool himself down by fooling himself into believing that he was fine and that he had everything under control.

He didn’t

Iwa cracked his neck and looked back down at his phone. He was sitting on the sides of his bed, hand gripping tightly onto his phone as his eyes stared at your number displayed on the screen right under your name and his thumb barely hovering over the call button.

“Okay. I’m gonna do it,” he thought to himself for the nth time in the past 10 minutes.

He took a deep breath and gave himself an internal word of encouragement and made the move. ‘So close’ he thought. “This is it, I’m gonna do it” But just as his thumb barely, just barely, made contact with the screen, he pulled it back and harshly threw his phone at his pillow. He closed his eyes and groaned in frustration as he fell back, his back hitting his mattress.

This was starting to piss him off.

It was just a phone call.

Him simply contacting and talking verbally to someone through his phone.

He was fine.

Right?

Yeah no, he was totally fine. Pft He’s had phone calls before. In fact, he had done it several times with several people (that’s a lie he only picks up to his parents and maybe Oikawa on good days) Why was this so hard? Phone calls are a natural thing. Especially in the 21st century. He wasn’t some old man who had no idea how to talk on the phone.

He got this.

But wait, did you even want him to call you first? What if you wanted to call him first? Wait what if he asked you during the wrong time and you’re tired?

Iwaizumi then lifted his head slightly to look at the clock on his bedside table. It was 8 pm. It wasn’t that late right? You would’ve told him if you were busy right? Wait what if you’re an early bird who liked catching a full 12 hours of sleep. Or what if you were just too scared to tell him you weren’t in the mood to call. God, there were so many factors he should’ve thought about before asking you. He blinked and heaved a frustrated sigh as he looked up to his ceiling. This was a lot harder than he’d thought.

If there was one thing he learned from Oikawa’s fangirls is that girls are scary.

You were no exception to that idea.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath before pulling himself back up and leaned over to grab his phone. He turned it to the side and made sure once again that his ringer was on and that the volume was all the way up just in case you know, you wanted to call first and save him from all the stress he was feeling.

He stared at your contact information and gripped his phone tighter. Your contact didn’t even have a photo and your name was just ‘Akaashi Y/n’ on his phone. Everything that happened between you two from the past couple of weeks flooded his head and he couldn’t help but internally cringe. He silently cursed at Oikawa for bringing him into this situation because maybe, just maybe, he could’ve held off this first phone call and wait for a couple of years when his voice would be a lot deeper and he would be a lot cooler and he wouldn’t be sitting on his bed with a pathetic expression while listening to his phone ring and-

Wait,

Ring?

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened as he now realized that he must’ve subconsciously pressed the call button on his screen. This was it, there was no turning back now. His olive-green eyes stared blankly at his screen. He kept blinking and re-reading your name and just hoping silently that it would change from your name to Oikawa’s so he could yell out all his frustration at him.

A couple of seconds went by before the ringing stopped and he felt his breath hitch when his ears picked up the sound of your voice on the other line.

“Hello?”

Oh, shit this was really happening

It’s been 3 seconds, shut up Hajime.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Hey, Akaashi-chan right?”

“Mhm but please just call me Y/n! oh and uh hi Iwaizumi-kun”

Iwaizumi blinked, he doesn’t know why but he felt his cheeks heat up as he heard his name come out of your lips. Iwaizumi cleared his throat before bringing a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “Uh- how are you doing?” he asked. Oh my god, you probably picked up on how unconfident he sounded. This is horrible. He winced and brought his hand to his forearm, rubbing it in an attempt to ease down his nerves.

“I’m doing okay, did you uhm-- eat yet??”

Iwaizumi stiffened, taken back a bit at the question but you interrupted him before he could reply. “I-I’m guessing you got back from practice not too long ago right? Assuming you stayed back late and stuff,” you trailed off. Wincing at your own awkwardness. Iwaizumi pinched his forearm and chuckled nervously, “No-uhm you’re right I got back a couple of hours ago. And yeah, I ate already. Did you?” He asked back, You shook your head, “no not yet. Been busy reviewing and all that stuff” you answered truthfully as you glanced up at your stacks of opened notebooks and coloured highlighters messily spread around all over your desk.

Iwaizumi grunted, his nervousness momentarily washing away as concern came over him. “Y/n, you can’t neglect your health. Cut some fruit up or something” You froze for a second at how stern he sounded just now. Then you realized that this could just be his natural voice and you’re just reading into it too much. Oh god you were starting to overthink again. How did Bokuto and your brother get past their first conversation?

Your silent curses towards the world were cut short when you realized that too many seconds passed and Iwaizumi was still waiting for your reply. Like you do in any unsure situation, you stifled a laugh and nodded while scratching your knee awkwardly, “I will I will.”

A long line of silence then came through and there were no other words to describe it other than awkward. The faint buzzing of your phone sounded louder than ever. You could hear the wind blowing, the clock ticking, and the way your legs would shuffle against each other as you fidgeted. The silence between you two was long, tense, and uncomfortable. The kind of silence that made people want to die on the inside. You both started to question the situation you were in. You had the same goal, both wanting to learn more about your soulmate. Yet you’re lack of comfort and his lack of confidence made things more nerve wracking than it should be.

In an attempt to ease the tension, you tried to think of something you could say that would loosen both of you up. A quick little sentence that was casual and good for conversation starters. You thought for a second, trying to recall your favourite movie couples and what words they said to each other during their meet cute. You needed something smooth, simple, but something that could address the situation you were in. It then clicked in your mind, 5 words, 5 syllables (or did it count as 7?) whatever.

All your time spent watching incredibly dramatic romance movies has led up to this moment.

“So…” you started in a casual tone.

“I guess we’re soulmates huh?”

The moment those words left your mouth your mind short-circuited and you wanted the ground to swallow you up whole. It definitely sounded way cooler in your head. God what were you thinking? And why did you make it sound like it was a question. stupid. Barely 10 minutes in and you’ve already embarrassed yourself.

You fell back onto your bed (Akaashi kicked you out of his room) and covered your hand over your mouth and moved your phone away from your face and let out a tiny scream so that Iwa would not be able to hear. Maybe you weren’t as smooth as you thought. However, that didn’t matter anymore. The words had been said and now the embarrassment was eating you up and every single bad scenario you had previously imagined began to cloud your mind. This was it, you’re soulmate definitely thought you were a loser, bye-bye happiness and hello staying sad and single until you fall into your grave.

Your ears perked up when you heard him clear his throat. You sat up, moved your phone closer to your ear as you anticipated his reply.

“Yeah I guess”

Your body tensed up at how unsure and bored he sounded. And you thought this moment couldn’t become anymore embarrassing. You physically felt your soul leave your body the moment he spoke those words in such a bored tone. This is gonna be a moment that would forever haunt you in the years to come.

Phone calls were neither of you guys’ strong suits and that fact was clearly evident in the way neither of you knew what to say next. While you could handle carrying yourself in real-life conversations, the closeness of someone's voice against your ear and their lack of presence in front of you made things made things more stressful than it should be. Iwaizumi was naturally not much of a talker, he usually let his flamboyant best friend that was joint to his hip take control of conversations. It didn’t help that most people found him rather intimidating and unapproachable.

The silence stretched out for another minute and the longer before you decided to speak up once again. You agreed to call because you wanted to learn more about him, your soulmate, and there was no way you could learn anything about him by just listening to the faint sounds of his breath through your phone. You shook your head and gave yourself a mini pep talk in your head.

Come on Y/n, pussy up bitch.

“Iwaizumi-kun I’m gonna be honest-”

Iwaizumi's hands that were playing with the cotton material of his sweatpants froze. His voice got stuck in his throat and a part of him became worried. Curse his lack of conversational abilities. He was too lost in second guessing himself while structuring his sentences about what he wanted to say to realize that you were probably waiting for him to say something. Did he already mess things up with his soulmate?

“-I suck at phone calls. Like, I’m terrible at it and I’m honestly really nervous right now because this whole thing is a bit overwhelming but I want to get to know more about you because well, you seem pretty cool” you rambled and were met with silence on the other line. Iwaizumi suddenly felt himself get flustered the moment you said that he was cool.

You sighed and continued, trying to ease the way your heart was pounding against your chest. “Truthfully I don’t know what to say or what we should talk about, so we can start with the basics, yeah?” You cleared your throat and straightened yourself up as you took a deep breath.

“Hi Iwaizumi-kun, I’m Y/n”

It took a moment for his mind to process the words you said. Basics. Yeah, he was capable of doing that. After taking a deep breathe, one that was meant to give him some sort of encouragement, he replied. You felt chills go up your back as his gruff voice echoing through the speaker;

“Hey, I’m Iwaizumi”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

First real conversations were never easy. A part of you felt like you were back in your first year of junior high when your teacher was forcing you to play ice-breaker games in an attempt to get to know the people in your class. The questions were the usual “what’s your favourite food?”, “when's your birthday?”, etc etc.

However, instead of getting to know your classmates, the game would usually just result in everyone staring at one another as they waited for someone to speak up. An awkward tension cutting into the classroom as everyone simultaneously realizes that everyone was kinda lame and boring and that they don’t really wanna get to know the people who sat beside them.

You hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Iwaizumi. You’ve known you’d had a soulmate since middle school. Since then, you’ve always fantasized about your meet-cute. You’ve watched many romantic movies and read more than enough manga to fuel your brain with endless cute imaginations and ideas.

But alas, the reality of the world is that cute scenarios are simply meant to live in fictional stories. Akaashi had even told you that you needed to humble down your expectations to save yourself from disappointment in the future.

The first couple words exchanged in your conversation weren’t poetic words of love confessions and sweet nothings. They were typical, short common questions that people generally use to learn more about each other. The expected “when’s your birthday?” and “what do you do in your free time?”

You learned about how his birthday was during June, his favourite colour was dark green, he liked agedashi tofu, and how he spent his free time doing some sort of exercise or physical activity. Iwaizumi was also relatively quiet, truth be told you did most of the talking while he said quiet words to let you know that he was still listening. Along with being quiet, he was private. A direct contrast to you. You were an open book, your mouth moved faster than your mind and you had not much of a problem telling him about little details about yourself.

Iwaizumi on the other hand was selective on what he wanted to tell you. Iwaizumi was simple. A down to earth guy who had his own little sense of edginess to him. He was levelheaded and was someone who strived for realistic goals rather than unreasonable daydreams. You caught that when he simply answered that his goal right right now was to attend nationals with his best friend. When you asked if he had further goals, he simply said that everything else was too far into the future and was out of his reach. You could also tell that even though he used names such as “piece of trash” and “shittykawa” to describe his said best friend, he cared for him in his own way.

Iwaizumi always had a feeling that his soulmate would be the more talkative one out of the two of them. He wasn’t reserved per se, just wasn’t one to ramble over things when deemed unnecessary. You on the other hand could talk for hours. Just from listening to your speaking patterns and tone of voice, you were bright and confident. You found ways to stray away from the original topic and talk about something completely different. On top of learning about your birthday, favourite food, colour, and basically everything he told you, he also somehow learned about your allergy to raspberries, your admiration for early 2000s movies, how you had a dog who you also considered like another brother, and now he was listening to you retell a story about how you got into baking and cooking.

You were carefree once you became comfortable. Your voice was captivating, one that made people always pay attention to whatever you were saying. He listened intently as you went on about your story, he hummed here and there to indicate that he was listening and nodded along even though he knew you wouldn’t see.

A part of him felt relieved to hear you speak so freely. While you never directly came to him, he could tell from your Twitter rants that you were going through a lot of stress from school. Iwaizumi may have only met you formally recently, but he’s listened to your taste in music long enough to have an idea about how the songs you were playing indicated your moods. You had been playing such gloomy music during the past couple of weeks but he was still too nervous and felt like he was overstepping a line if he became too upfront and told you to tell him what’s wrong.

Yeah, you were soulmates, but you technically didn’t know him just like how he didn’t know you.

Nonetheless, a part of him felt relieved at hearing the genuine excitement in your voice because he knew that at this very moment, you were feeling okay.

“-and that’s how I baked a cake to persuade my brother into not telling our Mom that we sneaked out to the convenience store at 4 am,” you said cheerfully as you recalled the memory. You had switched from sitting at your bed to now sitting on your chair and leaning your upper body onto your desk. You moved your word out of the way and had your elbows propped up on the surface of your desk, your head leaning onto your phone in your hands. A part of you felt giddy when you heard the faintest chuckle come from the other end of the line.

The awkward tension between you two was fizzling out and you no longer felt as nervous as you did in the beginning. You were slowly and surely becoming a bit more comfortable with his presence. Truthfully, Iwaizumi still felt a bit awkward. Not that he minded you talking a lot, he just didn’t know what to say and was worried that you found him boring like how Oikawa said he was.

He really was trying. It just wasn’t in his character to be so open about himself.

“Y/n, you know how dangerous that could've been?”

“Shh, my brother was practically a giant back when we were in junior high so he was enough to scare any creeps away. Plus, I already knew then that the elbow is the strongest point in the body so I would’ve been able to fight any sort of dangerous threat!” you exclaimed. “That is not a good excuse,” he replied in an unamused tone.

You huffed, “At least I know something about self-defence” you attempted to reason. You only heard Iwaizumi reply with a simple ‘tched’ which made you laugh.

It was then that you looked onto the clock at the corner of your desk and realized how late it was and it was also then that you remembered that you still had some notes that you wanted to write up before you went to bed. Curse University prep. You were so lost in your conversation with the boy that time slipped past your mind along with your other responsibilities. Just when you two had started getting into a comfortable rhythm too. You sighed sadly which immediately caught Iwaizumi’s attention.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked. You shook your head and removed your phone from your ear and pressed the speaker button on your phone screen. You placed your phone on your desk and stood up to organize the notebooks you had pushed aside on your desk. “Nothing bad, just remembered I had a couple more notes I wanted to finish up before bed,” you said with a hint of sadness in your voice. You wanted to continue your conversation with him and you really weren’t in the mindset to review your nutrition notes right now.

Iwaizumi paused to take a moment to look up at his wall clock and realized that it was nearing midnight. Iwaizumi felt a twinge of guilt inside of him when he realized that he kept you up so late. This was even past his own scheduled bedtime.

“I didn’t mean to keep you up so late, my bad” he apologized. You stifled a laugh as a tired smile spread on your lips. “It’s not your fault. Something tells me that you’re the type of person who sleeps early so I should be apologizing for keeping you up” you replied.

You suddenly yawned and stretched your arms over your head, “I’m gonna finish up and call in for the night. You should get some rest Iwaizumi-”

“Go to bed” You flinched slightly at how serious his voice got.

“It’s late, you can finish up your notes tomorrow. Studying when you’re tired isn’t healthy. Get some sleep so you won’t feel extra tired and groggy tomorrow morning. If you’re gonna stay up, at least go and make yourself something to eat for tomorrow so you feel energized”

You smiled tiredly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you Iwaizumi-kun. Oh and thank you for tonight, I enjoyed talking to you and I hope we can do this again” you shyly suggested. You closed your eyes as you clutched the material of your sweater to your chest as you waited for his answer. Iwaizumi felt a sense of relief rush into him knowing that you enjoyed talking to him. A sense of his self doubt momentarily washing away. You didn’t hear a reply for a moment and it worried you that you might’ve said the wrong thing. But a couple of moments passed before you heard a faint “Me too”

You moved your hand to hover over the red call button on your screen,

“Goodnight Iwaizumi-kun, sleep well”

“You too, Y/n”

The ‘beep’ from your phone indicating the call had ended echoed through your room. You stared at your phone for a moment as it dawned on you that you just had your first real conversation with your soulmate. And yeah it wasn’t the large extravagant straight-out-of-movie scene you had always envisioned but that didn’t matter. What mattered now was that you had talked to your soulmate and you knew a little bit more about him and he knew a little bit more about you.

It was a start.

You yawned and stretched your arms up over your head once again and sighed in relief when you felt your back crack. Your arms dropped to your side and you frowned as your eyes looked down at your notebooks that you had now neatly stacked in your hands. You realized that you were far too tired to even open up your textbooks, let alone finish a couple pages of notes.

Thinking back to what Iwaizumi said, you could always tune in early for the night and finish everything up tomorrow in the library. Plus, waking up to something to energizing to eat didn’t sound so bad. It wasn’t going to take long and you figured you had a bit more energy left to cut up some fruit before surrendering yourself to sleep.

Content with your decision you turned around and made your way towards your door. However, just as you were about to step out you heard three buzzes from your phone come back to back. Curiously, you walked back towards your desk and leaned down to read the message:

“Hey, if you need someone to study with then let me know and we can facetime and I can keep you company. If you want to of course. No pressure if you’re not up for it”

“Oh and grapefruits are really good to have the morning by the way, they’re refreshing”

“rest well.”

a/n: hello! This chapter is very long overdue and I’m really sorry about that. I’m not gonna go into it but just know that this series is back and I hope to keep a steady flow of updates going :)

I struggled a lot with writing this chapter partly because I myself am terrible at phone calls but I hope this gives an insight to difference between Iwa and Yn!

I will be opening up taglist for any of my newer readers who would like to keep up with the updates of “on track!” Feel free to comment or send me a message : ) Regarding my current taglist, it’s been months and I’ve noticed a lot of people changed their @s so I tried to find everyone who changed their users. If I accidentally tagged you and you weren’t on my list let me know + inform me if i also missed you. If you no longer want to be added, then please let me know if you would like to be removed from the taglist. Thank you all so much for your patience and feel free to let me know about your thoughts down below :)

++ I just want to clarify iwaizumi’s initial care for Y/n’s well-being isn’t meant to be interpreted as “omg he’s falling for her already” and should be seen as just someone who cares about his soulmate and wants them to be healthy. He knows that YN is his soulmate and cares about her because of that. But it’s more of a platonic care at the moment. They’re soulmates, yes, but he’s not in love with her and Y/n is not in love with him (yet at least) ya gets?

yeah i’m just a fan of slow burn

I just wanted to say that just because I’m not confident in the way I wrote him 😅 thank you so much again for reading!

taglist! [OPEN; comment or send an ask to be added!]

@aircorumble @bunnyuuji-archive @cloudsvna @donteathecake @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @sunabrainrot @tadashi-simp @agaashesmilktea @sbaepsae @vicassa @akaashikeijisthighs @mariachiii @ayocee @starsinthepavement @cece-lives-here @elianetsantana @gxrleexis-arctic-monks @ssaihanuweol @sazunari @kenmacorps @simping-for-tendou @intoomuchfandoms @vxnna @froyopet @komouri @idek-at-thispoint @volexis @insomniish @amberisnotcrazy @maramalademadara @faewraithsworld @mjoork @mindofess @dreamstormings @h0ngh0ngh0ng @keekee-732 @daewengol @amessypan @applekenm @ptv-hades @killlerqween @bakusquadz @bbymilkbread @bbyhaji @sophie-duck @marissaraeblr @kellesvt

tags continue in comments w/ my main🤍

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu soulmate au #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi smau #iwaizumi hajime smau #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi fluff #on track!

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 22 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren woke in a bed, which was not a surprise. His favorite blanket – the one Wen Ruohan had bought for him – was tucked in around him, and this was also not a surprise.

He was in the Nightless City, which was.

“How…?”

“Your brother gave permission,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren twisted his head in surprise, not having seen him sitting there at the desk beside the bed. Wen Ruohan was writing something, his brush movement steady and unhurried; it was a distinct contrast to the seething rage lingering in his voice. “Since I know you care about that.”

“Of course I care,” Lan Qiren said blankly. “He really gave permission?”

Wen Ruohan’s brush paused. “Are you suggesting that I’m lying?”

Lan Qiren considered it for a moment, then said, a little helplessly, “It seems more likely than him agreeing to cut my punishment short.”

Wen Ruohan snorted, and put his brush down. “I insisted,” he said, and the smug curl of his smile suggested it had been more than a casual conversation. “Anyway, he didn’t want a fuss.”

Naturally not, as He Kexin might object, Lan Qiren thought to himself, and shook his head at his own bitterness. He realized a moment later that it didn’t hurt to do that.

“How long did I sleep?” he asked, alarmed. The transit to the Nightless City was long, unless someone decided to waste vast amounts of qi flying by sword – which he could see Wen Ruohan doing – but the staves used for the Lan sect’s more severe discipline were not like those used for more mundane offenses. While they weren’t on par with a discipline whip, they were still made of spiritual wood, infused with qi; the injuries they left would not heal so quickly.

“I applied medicine,” Wen Ruohan said, rising to his feet and coming over to sit by Lan Qiren’s side on the bed, helping him sit up. “You’re not healed, only numb…I understand you’ve been having difficulties in your sect for some time, and that was even before the lady attacked you in an effort to frame you for her own rape.”

“I’m fairly sure she just wanted to show my brother that she wasn’t interested in him,” Lan Qiren said, wincing. He would not have phrased it quite like that, although thinking it over, it did seem to be a fair way to describe it, if an uncomplimentary one. “It’s not a stretch to think that picking his less impressive brother over him would do it.”

Wen Ruohan’s lips curled into a sneer. “Truly, an ingenious mind. Did she think herself so attractive that no man would ever deny her?”

That, or else she’d been truly desperate. Lan Qiren could sympathize with her to that extent. After all, do not take advantage of your position to oppress others was a rule for a reason, and the power and influence a Great Sect could bring to bear against a rogue cultivator was not nothing. But his sympathy ended at the point where she’d decided it was acceptable to harm him in order to achieve her goal – even looking at her actions in the best possible light and assuming that she sincerely thought he would participate willingly in her plan, she’d made all sorts of assumptions and hadn’t bothered to verify anything before acting on them.

He Kexin might be free and unrestrained, as his brother had described her, but she was also perilously reckless, and selfish, too.

Still, at the same time Lan Qiren thought about Wen Ruohan’s smirk when he mentioned his ‘insistence’ with his brother – he wasn’t sure if it involved physical violence or not, although the mental image of such a confrontation was oddly satisfying – and grimaced at the thought of the same sort of pressure being brought to bear on someone without a Great Sect’s protection. “About - He Kexin…”

“You needn’t concern yourself for the lady’s sake,” Wen Ruohan said, and his tone was a little unpleasant. “Even after all that, she permitted herself to be convinced by one of her friends that the advantages of receiving Qingheng-jun’s affections outweighed the disadvantages, despite her own better instincts; that seems punishment enough for the moment. Someone who does not hesitate to blind themselves at the say-so of another will reap the reward they deserve in the end…”

He shook his head, and smiled once more, displaying a glint of teeth.

“You may take comfort that I took no action against her. However, I did suggest that the lady in question consider avoiding Qishan on her future travels.”

Lan Qiren felt something warm pricking his heart. “The thought is appreciated, although unnecessary. The one whose conduct is in the wrong is my brother.”

He’d appreciate an apology from He Kexin, whether for misjudging him or ignoring his refusals, but he wouldn’t hold out hope for it.

“I can be angry at more than one person at once,” Wen Ruohan said. A strange expression flitted over his features. “I admit, I would have thought Lao Nie would have done something about the entire situation sooner. Even if you weren’t writing to me, why didn’t you write to him?”

“I did,” Lan Qiren said. “His initial reply was – unsatisfactory.”

Lao Nie had responded rather casually to Lan Qiren’s message laying out the situation with his brother and He Kexin, speaking light-heartedly of the burning ardor of first love; he had assured Lan Qiren that it was normal to feel troubled by the thought of being left behind, even when the relationship was not good, and that his brother would probably resurface from his infatuation a happier person in the end. It was fairly evident that he hadn’t read all of Lan Qiren’s carefully composed letter.

“I asked him to come by the Lan sect,” he added. “But he was otherwise occupied.”

Wen Ruohan pressed his lips together in irritation. “He’s been otherwise occupied for some time now. You’re not the only one whose letters he’s disregarded.”

“Even you?” Lan Qiren said wonderingly. “But he likes you so much.”

The tightness in Wen Ruohan’s face eased a little. “I’ve asked him to visit here on account of your health,” he said. “I expect to see him arrive in his usual ridiculous flurry of temper and hen-like concern soon enough – once he reads the letter, anyway.”

Lan Qiren nodded, then hesitated. “The last time I was here…”

Wen Ruohan gazed at him sidelong.

Lan Qiren bit his lip. “I understand that I overstepped –”

“Don’t apologize.”

Lan Qiren stopped.

Wen Ruohan looked irritated again. “Don’t apologize,” he said again. “Are you not my little brother? If you cannot scold me, who is there that lives who can? I am not Qingheng-jun.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t entirely sure how the two were connected.

“If you want to make it up to me, go back to the way you addressed me before,” Wen Ruohan added.

Lan Qiren frowned, confused. “How do you mean?”

“Call me da-ge. Not xiongzhang.”

“…the latter is more polite.”

“So is listening to your elders,” Wen Ruohan said haughtily. “As you’re so fond of saying, it’s what I asked.”

“All right, da-ge,” Lan Qiren said obediently, and Wen Ruohan looked pleased.

“Rest,” he ordered, rising to his feet. “There will be dinner soon, and perhaps we can play weiqi once again…is there anything else you need for your room?”

Lan Qiren’s room in the Nightless City was very similar to the room Wen Ruohan had prepared for him in the Cloud Recesses; he couldn’t think of anything else he might need. Except only…

“I don’t suppose you could ask your spies to check in on my rooms back home,” Lan Qiren said, even as he settled back down to rest as instructed. “There was a painting there that you gifted to me that I liked a lot. It fell during the fight, and I haven’t been back since. I don’t want it thrown away.”

“Which one? I got you several…the mountain pass? The flowering tree?”

“No, the landscape with the rolling hills,” Lan Qiren said, and Wen Ruohan, who had been about to leave, stopped abruptly by the door. “It’s a little burned at the edges; you can’t really mistake it for anything else.”

“You liked that one?” Wen Ruohan’s voice was strange, full of some emotion that Lan Qiren was too tired to even try to decipher. “Above the others? The quality is much less, and the skill with the brush inferior.”

“The person who painted it was happy,” Lan Qiren explained. “There’s an echo of the painter’s residual qi trapped in the ink, you can tell a little bit about who they were from that. Whoever it was, they were brash and bold, arrogant and carefree – full of potential, like a phoenix about to alight to a higher branch. Their soul was like a falcon’s, tied down by nothing. Looking at it is an inspiration, and a comfort. I use it sometimes as a focus for meditation.”

“…I’ll have my spies check,” Wen Ruohan said, and he must be truly perturbed by Lan Qiren’s punishment-induced injuries if he had actually just admitted to having spies in the Cloud Recesses. “In the meantime, I have several other works by the same…artist. If you’d like.”

“Oh, very much!” Lan Qiren said enthusiastically; he tried to struggle up to sit again, but he started to feel pain even through the numbness of the anesthetic he’d been dosed with. Wen Ruohan glared him back down, and he yielded meekly, knowing that he was in no state to be really protesting. “Thank you, da-ge. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

Wen Ruohan huffed and put a hand behind his back, sweeping out the door like a gust of wind.

Lan Qiren lay back down, staring up at the ceiling.

Are you really going to do this? he wondered. Will you really forgive him for what he has done, for what he is, just because you desperately need support? What happened to your principles? Your rules?

He exhaled hard, almost a sigh. He still wasn’t all right with the torture, still thought it was wrong for a man to exult in the pain of others in such a grotesque fashion, but he’d gone back to his standby, the rules, and he was reminded brutally that they were designed to function as guides for the self, not for the world. You were supposed to embrace the entirety of the world, to shoulder the burden of morality, to refuse to tolerate evil – and yet the rules of hospitality, of host and guest, of neighbors, were ranked just as high.

He could choose to continue to hold back, to express his disdain of Wen Ruohan’s ways with distance and reserve, but it wouldn’t stop Wen Ruohan from doing what he wanted anyway, and it would leave Lan Qiren even more isolated and friendless than he was already.

It would be better to compromise.

And yet – it was hard, perilously hard, to force himself to do so. It was one of his flaws, he knew: how uncompromising he was, how unyielding, how bitterly he held onto his opinions, refusing to change, especially when he thought he was right.

For his own sake, he needed to try to do so. But he also needed to at least try to salvage his conscience, too.

He’d have to find a way to do both.

So decided, Lan Qiren reserved the issue of how he would do that in the back of his mind, returning to sleep. It would be easier, he thought, to resolve the issue in the morning, once he’d healed up a little more.

It wasn’t, but that was mostly because he was horrified to discover that he had no proper clothing.

“You have clothing that fits,” Wen Ruohan replied, the mildness of his voice failing to conceal the glint of amusement in his eyes. “It’s even in your clan’s colors. What’s the problem?”

“It’s too much,” Lan Qiren insisted, shaking the clothing at him. He had at least been left his inner robes, though he felt naked without the extra layer. “My formal clothing is less excessive than this!”

“That is surely a matter for your sect, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s excessive.”

“You have no sense of proportion!”

Wen Ruohan shrugged. “I can send for something else,” he said. “Even from your home, if you like. By regular post, it should only take a week or so to arrive.”

Lan Qiren scowled.

“If you really prefer, you’re welcome to walk around naked until then –”

Lan Qiren was so aggravated that he actually hissed at him, surprising Wen Ruohan into a laugh that interrupted his words, and returned to his room to begrudgingly put on the robes. They were white and silver, his usual preference – not interwoven with blue, but that wasn’t a surprise, given that white was a secondary color for the Wen sect as well as the Lan – but they were also ridiculously overwrought: embroidered brocade, silks so fine that they had to be layered in order to not be translucent, studded with shining pearls and what might be actual silver…

“Absurd,” he grumbled, but put on the clothing and came back out. “Do you enjoy tormenting me? Is that it?”

“At times,” Wen Ruohan said, his eyes curved and merry. “Come, sit. It’s your move.”

Lan Qiren permitted himself to succumb to his sworn brother’s atrocious taste for the evening, then stole away to the laundry room the first chance he could, determined to beg for a set of clothing that was somewhat more normal – even mourning clothing would be acceptable, as long as it was neither Wen sect nor horribly garish.

Wen Ruohan found him there, arguing spiritedly with the tailor, and whisked him back to his rooms on account of Lan Qiren’s injuries, arguing, correctly, that Lan Qiren was on the verge of collapsing and coughing up blood from having been a bit too enthusiastic.

Eventually, after some of what Lan Qiren called reasoned debate and what Wen Ruohan called flagrant sulking, Wen Ruohan agreed to get him something a little more normal to wear on the condition that he wear at least one adornment of Wen Ruohan’s choosing along with it.

“You secretly wanted to play with dolls as a child,” Lan Qiren said accusingly, even though the initial adornment – a belt loop made from moonstone and jade – was entirely appropriate, even by Lan sect standards. “You were denied the chance then, and now you make it everyone else’s problem. Is that it?”

“Perhaps,” Wen Ruohan said. “It’s been so long, how would I remember?”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes and gamely lost to him at weiqi a few more times.

It was perilously easy to slip back into the comfortable camaraderie that they’d developed on his last visit, he reflected as he prepared for bed that evening. It was something he enjoyed - something they both enjoyed - and if Lan Qiren only kept his opinions to himself, convinced himself to actually bend for once, he might be able to actually keep it, this time.

The next morning, he went to the extensive library kept by the Wen sect and took down several books on anatomy, carefully copying out the goriest parts of it in his best calligraphy; he wasn’t an inspired painter like the nameless ancient that had done the pictures that now hung in his room here, but he excelled at dry and lifeless copies, which was about what you wanted from an anatomy text.

He finished the small booklet within a few days, and gave it to Wen Ruohan one evening before dinner.

“What’s this?” Wen Ruohan asked, flipping through it with a slightly bemused expression. “Medicine?”

“Anatomy,” Lan Qiren corrected. “Since you – like that sort of thing. It’s a gift.”

Wen Ruohan blinked very deliberately. “Little Lan,” he said, staring down at one of the more explicit illustrations. “Did you get me a gift to help me torture people better?”

“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re taking care of me,” Lan Qiren said with as much dignity as he could muster in light of the patheticness of his abject surrender. “I got you this gift because it seemed relevant to your interests. Anyway, it’s not something I can share, or even really countenance – and in all honesty I would prefer that you not do it while I’m around, or at minimum try not to mention it to me, to make it easier to look the other way – I mean, it’s not going to be easy, but easier – well, my scruples aren’t important. It’s something that matters to you, so I’ll just –”

Wen Ruohan cleared his throat, interrupting him. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, looking at the space above Lan Qiren’s head for some reason. “The Fire Palace has had trouble keeping my interest recently; the entertainment has gone stale. I have moved on.”

Lan Qiren had not expected that, and he smiled happily, his pricked conscience unexpectedly granted a reprieve. For some reason, it made Wen Ruohan stare at him.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that you’re not torturing people for sport any longer,” Lan Qiren told him, in case it wasn’t clear. “As for the booklet, even if it’s not quite right for your interests right now, I still hope you enjoy the work...I’ll get you a better gift next time.”

“No need to strain yourself,” Wen Ruohan said. “I will be pleased no matter what it is, I’m sure.”

He gestured for Lan Qiren to enter the dining room first, which Lan Qiren did. Oddly enough, despite his cliché and rather condescending reassurances, Wen Ruohan looked especially pleased throughout dinner, almost as if he really meant what he’d said.

It was nice, Lan Qiren thought, to be liked. One could get used to it.

His injuries were healing very well, between the medicines Wen Ruohan’s doctors plied him with – Lan Qiren attempted not to calculate the value of them, certain that they were probably worth more than a small sect’s heirloom treasure – and the rich spiritual energy Wen Ruohan insisted on infusing him with, morning and night. Lan Qiren tried to protest that the latter was unnecessary, but Wen Ruohan had stood on his rights as the host, and at any rate he simply had so much qi that the effort seemed not to wear on him at all. So Lan Qiren let him keep doing it, Wen Ruohan’s warm hands conveying warm qi as he spoke to him of various matters, important and trifling, and Lan Qiren – liked it.

“In the Nightless City, we release lanterns several times a year, not just on the Lantern Festival,” Wen Ruohan murmured into Lan Qiren’s ear as he sat there, eyes growing heavy as his rules-mandated bedtime approached. “It’s a celebration of the sun as our sect’s sigil. The lanterns come in all shapes and sizes and colors, and we light the flames with spiritual energy. There’s a day not far from now where we will do it; people are making preparations already. Your body is still stiff and unbending, your wounds still healing – you’ll be here to see it.”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“Good,” Wen Ruohan said. “Very good…ah, little Lan, what a strange thing you are. When you were gone, I thought of you often no matter what I wished. I thought that I could cure it by having you here, but now you are here before me, every day, and yet I think of you no less. It seems that seeing you every day does not cause me to tire of you.”

“Yes, you’re very easily amused,” Lan Qiren said, his eyes sliding shut as the warm qi circulated through his body. “I think we long ago established that.”

“Is there any feature of yours that you actually like, little Lan? Or is it all self-depreciation?”

“I have a good brain,” Lan Qiren said. “I’m creative and analytical, and I explain things well; I make for a decent or even accomplished teacher. My musical ability is good, both in terms of playing and composition. Also, I’m informed that my face is first rate.”

Wen Ruohan laughed behind his shoulder. “I stand corrected.”

When they parted that night, all was well.

The peace did not last until morning.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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