#i suppose i could use my pasta maker......
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Awful pictures, but it's that time of year where my ramen cravings flare up suddenly and violently, then I realize I've been eating out too much, and finally I remember that store-bought fresh ramen is cheap, easy, and often really, really good! Last night, we did tantanmen (sesame chili), and I went tsukmen style—yes, dipping noodles!
Seiyu brand medium-thick fresh ramen (¥89/serving)
Soup No Tatsujin brand tantanmen paste (¥110/serving)
1/2 pack spinach each
~2~3 tbsp ground pork each
1/2 ajitama egg each (recipe)
2 green onions each
Calculating roughly (and excluding the oil, salt/pepper, and egg marinade), it was less than ¥800 for a nice ramen meal for two. Super reasonable!
Now, my favorite local ramen costs ¥680 (+¥100 for an egg), usually ¥1460 for the two of us. And that place is *amazing*, so it easily wins on quality, but it doesn't have tantanmen, which I really wanted last night. Also, it's a 23-minute walk away...... so let's look at the time!
Not counting marinating the eggs overnight, this should only take 10, maybe 15 minutes (if you have an electric kettle for the broth water, one burner for the spinach, and another for the noodles). It did take me 20, but that's including a round of hide-and-seek with my dog :) Which would also not be allowed at most ramen shops!
All I'm saying is that supermarket ramen is kind of a Godsend! I wonder if there's anything new since last spring......
#but i do wish seiyu had real thiccccc noodles#i suppose i could use my pasta maker......#japanese food#tantanmen#ramen#make again#namamen
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
I feel stupid even complaining about this but like am I the asshole here?
I don’t like gifts from my boyfriend’s family. It’s like they half ass it, if that . Gifts for the both of us are really just gifts for Rob.
I want to give them the benefit of the doubt that it’s an all boy family essentially they don’t know how to interact with younger women his mom included. I really want to believe they mean well but at this point it’s starting to feel a lil like they don’t like me
Rob’s bother went to Vegas and got Rob a bottle and a gift shop bottle opener the expensive mgm magnet and an embossed shot glass. They got me a wallet for a child.. like a unicorn lil dollar store wallet you get for a kids play set. And I said something about it to Rob like a shirt or a shot glass would have been fine what am I supposed to do with this? I can’t even use because you can’t fit anything in because it’s for a child. And as soon as I opened it, it separated from its self to where you could see the cardboard.
Christmas I got colorful socks I can’t fit and a $10 Starbucks gift card and It wasn’t like they got the gift card for me Rob’s mom got it because they messed up on an order and she knew I liked coffee. Rob got a whole cast iron camping cooking set and bottle of henny my dad also got Rob a handle of henny that year
Next Christmas they got Rob a ninja blender a pasta maker and a ninja mini oven/air fryer…. These were for the both of us, tho months prior when Rob was talking about buying the ninja mini oven and blender for himself. I suggested we wait bc we had to down size for a smaller apartment and we have absolutely no fucking room. ALSO HE COMPLAINS ABOUT HAVEING NO WORKING SPACE and he doesn’t even use the appliances we have I pointed that out. I also got him a flat top for our oven for his birthday of which he doesn’t use now. So his mom gets him everything anyway and we just had boxes on our floor till I got us the metal self. He still hasn’t used them. I use the blender bc I like salsa and rob broke my last blender. But yea those gifts were for the both of us
This Christmas, they got each other bottles. Clase azule and Jonny walker blue and black label. I got an anime figure for Rob’s favorite anime, it is sukuna and from my favorite brand of figures, however I feel like that was mostly Rob’s doing mainly bc I over heard them talking about it and directing them over the phone phone. But past that they got me a bottle of cream pineapple rum? 🤷🏾♀️ it’s so nasty, I can’t make anything with it every drink I’ve tried the cream curdles. The crazy think is we’ve talked about alcohols I like or that I mostly prefer wine I’ve even got Rob’s mom one of my favorite wines bc I knew she’d like it and now it’s one of her favorites. Also they got Rob a ninja wood fire grill…. We live in a fucking apartment, something I pointed out when he brought up wanting one months prior just like before. We had a plan to get a house next year. This year now. But I was like just wait till then bc we have a balcony and again no place to put it… this thing is fucking huge and surprisingly we can’t even fucking use the damn thing BECAUSE WE LIVE IN AN APARTMENT. And Rob’s been mopey about it since new years.
Like I feel bad complaining but like am I overreacting/overthinking this? My Mom gets Rob $300 every Christmas and take us out to eat and or gets him a bottle for our Christmas game night. My dad will take us out to eat or take us somewhere so we can pick out a gift that’s actually for the both of us.
But for real am I being a bitch about this? Like it’s been almost 4 years, me and your son practically share a brain cell and you haven’t picked up on any of my interests besides baking?
ALSO ADD ON: Rob literally has a folder on his phone where he takes a photo of absolutely everything Ive been interested in at any store we’ve gone to since we’ve started dating. They could have just asked him what I wanted
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Siiiigh okay so. For @silverutahraptor's reference:
You are seriously underestimating the range of the chocolate quality in the US. Yes, there's Hersheys and M&Ms and so on, but there are also LOTS of smaller regional retailers that have much higher quality. My city alone has three competing local chocolate makers, and also Rocky Mountain Chocolates moved in several years back, so now we're up to four. The local ones are all Italian, for some reason. If you're not limited to solid chocolate only, try the chocolate-covered sponge candy or raspberries.
Bologna is just meat? It's just meat. You put it on sandwiches. I don't love it but I don't... it's not even an American invention? Or a default for deli meat options? I don't understand why it's on this list. Did OP('s friend) mean SPAM?
I have never had Watergate salad but I feel like it's an acquired taste. None of the ingredients themselves are bad, salt+sweet is common, the theory is sound, this particular execution is Unusual. Probably would do better on any website but this one, since I think the textural cacophony would put me off and I seem to be on the tolerant end of that for tumblr. Anyway yeah skip this one unless you're just really curious for some reason.
I have had a twinkie once in my life and like. They're exactly what they are, which is a sugar bomb that can sit at room temperature for an extended time without going bad, and not put anyone off by containing anything anyone could object to, which also means they contain nothing interesting. You eat them for nostalgic cravings or when you just need calories to get through this drive/shift and enjoying food is out of the question anymore, whether due to time constraints or exhaustion. That said they do not last as long as rumors say and probably contain exactly as many preservatives as every other snack cake/pastry type thing available in a gas station/that aisle of the grocery store, so like... if you're in that situation your alternatives are not better. Consume something and move on.
Grits are literally just hot cereal, but made of corn instead of wheat or oats. Just??? It's the same as oatmeal or porridge, but corn. The only reason this is on this list is it's Southern so most of the US also pretends it's weird. It's just corn, guys, add whatever you like on popcorn and you'll be fine. Or if you don't like corn skip it, but that's not because corn is bad.
I have never had boiled peanuts but like. It's peanuts? I am willing to take southern peoples' word on this one being good. Add salt. I will also not eat it because peanuts make me nauseous but that's not the peanuts fault.
Okay biscuits and gravy are like. pasta and sauce, but it's bread and gravy. I don't want to touch it but again the theory is sound. Carbs + flavor. Sometimes the sauce has little bits of sausage in it, apparently, at least at the restaurant I was working at. Probably better compared to cream of whatever soup in a bread bowl than anything? Or open face hot sandwiches. So again acquired taste, avoid if it's not appealing, but it's not that bizarre. People but stuff on bread, it's not that weird.
Unnseasoned anything is going to be too bland for most people, I don't really have much to add here. I've never known anyone to actually eat meatloaf without anything on it, you add like barbecue sauce or something. I feel like The Horrors Of American Food were supposed to contain something more horrifying than "bland."
Anyway @silverutahraptor you, specifically, should eat wonderbread and suffer
Because I think it would be funny
Inspired by that poll coming for British food, have an alternative.
Shout-out to @sigh-the-kraken for suggesting American delicacies I wouldn't want to touch 👍
27K notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 11 - June 2, 2023: Cinque Terre
Today started later than I wanted to. I didn’t wake up until 8am. I must be tired and needing to catch up on some sleep. It took a little bit to get going because I needed to eat, get ready, and pack my bag. This hostel has fresh made granola for breakfast (I watched and smelled them making it the night prior) and it was super delicious. The hostel worker also taught me how to use an Italian coffee maker. It’s really not that difficult even though it looks intimidating.
I ended up booking my Cinque Terre card online and man, was I glad I did that. The train station was complete chaos and the line for assistance for tickets went outside of the train station. The train was also absolutely packed. Pure madness.
I got off the train in Monterosso and the fun began. Monterosso is the only town with a beach so it’s quite scenic but rocky. I’ve heard the better beaches with sand are further away. That didn’t stop many people from laying out. I was surprised. It was warm but not that warm. Maybe mid-to-low 70s.
My goal today was to hike the trail between cities, or what I could. The trail between Monterosso and Vernazza started steep but leveled out. Lots of foot traffic and it was technically supposed to be a one way only but that didn’t work out due to the large number of people. I stopped in Vernazza and got some delicious street food and a Fanta that actually was from a restaurant. It was so good but so rich. There were a few bites I couldn’t quite finish.
The hike between Vernazza and Corniglia was surprisingly not too bad. I thought that was going to be the hardest part of the trail but it wasn’t at all. I celebrated with gelato in Corniglia. I decided to try something different and I got lemon and basil gelato. It was quite good and very refreshing.
I was feeling good so I decided to do the difficult hiking route next from Corniglia to Manarola. I think I should have waited for the next day because I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into. It was fabulous but quite strenuous getting up and coming down. You basically walk at the top of a mountain overlooking the sea and through a lot of vineyards. I wanted to stop for a glass of wine at a little wine bar in the vineyards but it was closed for the holiday. Bummer. I was okay until the very end coming down the hill. That last half mile just felt like it would never end. Then I got to Monarola and the entire town is sloped downhill. I could have died. My legs were jello. Looking at my phone, I just realized I was so exhausted that I didn’t even take a photo in Manarola other than beer. I was feeling really, really bad so I decided to stop for the day. I got a large beer, a focaccia, and a liter of water. It took a while but I eventually came back to life after some food. Finding the train home was also confusing and I was displeased to be walking so much at that point but I did eventually find it.
I decided I needed a shower before dinner because I was disgusting and sweaty. It was a good opportunity for resting my legs as well. I even sat while blow drying my hair. Dinner tonight was difficult to find because today is a national holiday. Everything was booked solid. I did find a decent place though and tried a new pasta, trofie. It’s like a longer version of a spatzle but similar texture. It wasn’t my absolute favorite but it was pretty good. I ended the night at the beer garden by the sea for a cocktail.
I am beyond exhausted but glad I checked this off my bucket list! Time for bed, goodnight!
0 notes
Text
Jotaro Relationship Head Canons SFW
Because I’m a self indulgent little shit and just love to ignore all of the work I have to do, have some Jotaro head canons. I am but a humble simp, and love this man. So much.
Update as of writing this. Somehow, it got very angsty, so... yeah. Sad man vibes. Also rambly. I just kinda kept going.
Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!
Have a character, but no idea?��Prompt list here!
Looking for more? Master post here!
WARNINGS: None, just angst, but nothing too serious.
Word Count: 2,985
Jotaro’s type is... I mean, it depends, like most people. I don’t think he’s super picky over appearances or things like that, it’s more whether or not he gets along with you and how long he can put up with you. He’s polite (well, as polite as he can be) and courteous, but probably a little more apathetic when you’ve first met. Once you’ve been around for a while he’s more relaxed and almost a little more critical. Mostly because you’re his friend now and he expects more from his friends.
While I was writing this I sort of realized that he could be aromantic. Maybe it’s just my own aro tendencies coming through, but I thought it sort of lined up with his personality. Or at least from my experience with romantic attraction.
Eventually, though, he’ll admit he cares about you a little more than he cares about others. It comes through in little almost compliments. “You did good. Keep it up” or “good job, dealing with this” are common phrases that sound nice on the surface, but it almost feels like he’s trying to pressure you to do more, which is far from the truth.
If it’s not awkward compliments like that, it’s awkward gifts. Always something you had briefly mentioned wanting or stared at a minute longer than you usually do, wrapped in a paper that’s your favourite colour or pattern. Sometimes, though, it’s something you’ve never mentioned that he somehow guessed would be something you wanted.
At the same time, though, he’s oblivious or at least acts like he is. There may be times when he goes home after you said something exceptionally sweet to him or that just means so much and he’ll just take a moment sitting at his desk to mull over what you said.
With a grunt, Jotaro rolled back into the armchair with a cup of tea in one hand and today’s newspaper in the other, since he didn’t get to read it this morning. It’s late with the sun almost completely set, giving his room an orange hue. He tries reading the first column, something about a cat being saved from a sewer grate, but after about a minute, he catches himself drifting away, sort of staring blankly at the paper.
He blinks hard, taking a long sip from his coffee. He must be tired. Another attempt is made at reading, this time the comics. They’re not his favourite thing, but short enough that he can focus on them. Or so he thought.
He zones out again, face suddenly feeling very hot.
He was thinking about you. Or, rather what you said.
It was something so simple, so mundane.
You had been talking about family together, exchanging drama, if you will, and he had brought up how his father had left his mother when he was very young. It didn’t bother him, he had said, after all, it was years ago and if he was being honest, he didn’t really need a father. Then, you gave him this look. It wasn’t pity or something like that. You put your hand on his knee, staring deep into his eyes.
“Jotaro,” you said, voice soft and sweet. You struggled to say the next words, opening your mouth, sighing, then finally: “I’m not leaving you.”
“Why would you be leaving?” He said, confused, taking it literally. Or, he pretended to be confused. It had made his heart warm with affection.
What Jotaro hadn’t noticed at that moment was that his eyes seemed to gloss over with wet tears while talking about his father. He wasn’t over it, you understood that. How could he be? He was so young then, he probably didn’t understand what was happening or why and now that he’s a father himself, there had to be so much guilt about being the same way. It was only now that he was realizing how much you had an effect on him.
It didn’t make him sad, by any means but... loved. He’ll say thank you tomorrow with a gift or some flowers. He hadn’t planned on meeting you for the rest of the week because he was busy, but work could wait, right? Yeah. Tomorrow.
God, it would take so long for him to get you to move in together. He’s so used to living on his own that I think he’s a little self-conscious about it. He’s not a slob by any means, but certainly a bachelor. I mean, he lived (assumedly) on his own from probably around or earlier than DiU right up until Stone Free, so it’s been a while and he’s certainly comfortable with his mess of clothes lying on the floor in the corner, but you won’t be. He cleans up before people come over, obviously, but how many times did he actually invite someone in?
When you start staying around more, he starts cleaning more, which makes him a little frustrated both coming to terms with liking someone enough that he’s actively cleaning for them once a week and also discovering that he’s a lot more gross than he thought. You would not believe how stained the counter was from coffee or how gross the filter was on the coffee maker. He takes his coffee very seriously. You begin to notice how clean everything is, well, how consistently clean everything is and it even starts to smell nicer, more floral and fresh. He bought a lavender air freshener. “It’s supposed to be calming,” he’ll say with a hint of annoyance. It’s not a bad smell to him, better than vanilla air fresheners, but it does give him a headache when he first sprays his place. You seem to like it though, so he’s willing to put up with it.
I honestly believe this man can cook, but nervous when cooking for other people. His food when he was a bachelor was good enough for him and I’m sure Holly would have shown him a lot too, but it’s not the best food. He definitely steps up his game when you’re over and even more so when you move in. He’s better with dishes that have pasta or noodles because it’s easy, but he’s not too bad behind the grill either.
When you guys finally live together, he tries to keep the cooking even, with you cooking some days and him doing the rest, but I honestly feel like unless you are a hazard in the kitchen, you would do most of it.
Jotaro would be like that with most things around the house partly because he doesn’t want you to do all the work if you don’t want to but he enjoys having a little more time to himself to either do work or... yeah, it’s just work. There are a few things that he’ll never make you do because it’s either too hard or he’s built up a routine of doing that thing a certain way and he’s convinced no one else will do it right. Like his laundry. He won’t let anyone else clean his clothes. He tried once and nothing dried right, he swears that his jacket is still damp to this day. You can fold his stuff or hang it up, but he’s running the washing machine and dryer. Also picky about how his office is cleaned.
If you asked and gave a legitimate reason for not doing a certain chore, he’ll do it, but be prepared with an excuse as to why you can’t wash the dishes or fold the laundry. He’s especially resistant if he’s working whether that be gathering information for the Speedwagon Foundation or editing his latest Marine Biology book.
Actually, can we just talk about how much this man hates folding laundry? It’s so pointless to him. Why fold it and put it into neat little piles when you’re just gonna rummage through the drawer and mess everything up? Sure, it looks nice, I guess, but not for long. He was for sure a floordrobe kind of guy, especially in his early years. He knows which ones are clean, it’s fine, just leave it. Of course, he would get better the longer you’re at his place, but still. It’s not that he’s lazy, he’s just busy and putting clothes away takes way too fucking long. (which, honestly, agreed.)
Date nights with Jotaro are... rare. I mean, you live with him, why would he want to go out and pay for something when he could do the same thing at home? They’re nice, of course, but it’s more common for him to take you out to dinner while you guys are on vacation or in a location other than home, because he doesn’t feel like cooking and it’s more special when you’re supposed to go out. Eventually, it clicks in that you are supposed to make each other feel special and will surprise you with an expensive dinner or a short cruise. If you suggest the aquarium he’ll think you’re just saying that because he’s into aquatic wildlife, but honestly doesn’t put up much of a fight and will answer any questions you or anyone else has about the fish.
He does enjoy a good relaxing movie (or documentary) night at home, though. It’s so nice to finally be finished work, settle into your super comfy couch and just chill until he gets tired. Even better when you’re lying on top of him with your head just under his chin. There’s something so soothing about smelling your perfume, shampoo, conditioner, cologne, etc. To just smell you so close to him and feel your weight. Aaah. So nice.
The microwave beeps faintly from the kitchen signalling that popcorn was done. You trailed out soon after, tossing the bowl to mix around the butter. You smile sweetly at him, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Jotaro’s lips before settling into his lap, nestling your head just under his while stretching out your legs. His arm instinctively moves from the back of the couch to drape over your back, rubbing circles into it with his thumb.
He sighs; relaxed, finally. He allows himself to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes for a moment, just basking in your comfort. When he opens his eyes, he pulls you closer to him, feeling your heart beat almost in time with his. It was moments like these that eased his panic of losing you. You were here in his arms, safe and sound and vice versa. He was safe in yours.
Yeah, he’s a little angsty. But, can you blame him? He’s getting better, though. With help, of course. With you being around so often (and being very adamant that you’re not going anywhere) he’s able to let go a little. He’s not perfect, by a long shot and progress is slow, but it’s the little things like these that makes you proud of how far he’s come.
PDA is common, but a little restricted. When you’re out together, Jotaro’ll always have his hand on your back or shoulder. Hand-holding isn’t really a thing for him, but he will make sure you know he’s there. He’ll kiss you in public, but it’s not nearly as intimate or special as when you’re at home. Still, it’s a sweet reminder that he loves you, seeing as words of affection aren’t really his thing.
I mean, he can express himself just fine, but he still gets a little nervous saying things like ‘I love you.’ It’s more along the lines of ‘I care about you.’ Or, well. “of course, I care about you. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Which... thanks. I think.
Kissing him is so nice, so you’re not too mad about him doing that instead of words. When Jotaro kisses you it’s full of a mix of emotions. Mostly caring, but on his rough days, there’s something else there. It could be worry or whatever the emotional equivalent of never letting you go is. You can always tell that he wants it to last a little bit longer. There’s something in the sad look in his eyes when he or you has to pull away. Sometimes he’s overly gentle like he’ll break you somehow, especially if you’re not a stand user or fighting-inclined (whether physical or otherwise). It’s not patronizing, or at least he tries not to be patronizing, he just prefers you safe.
It started out simple enough. You and Jotaro were just sitting at the table, eating dinner when he got this... sinking sort of feeling. There was something in the silence between you that just sent his mind spiralling. Thoughts of you someday dying too soon for whatever reason or leaving him because he’s not there enough, stand users, car crashes, divorce. They all started to flood into his mind, fabricating that you would somehow be taken away from him.
“Jotaro? Are you okay?” Your voice rings through; a bright light breaking the storm. He’s been staring at his plate for a while now, his eyes are dry and itchy. He looks at you and tries to say something, but the words don’t come. Is he okay?
You stand up and walk over to him, cupping his face gently. You rub the dark circles under his eyes while kissing his forehead. Jotaro slowly wraps his arms around you, letting his face fall into your hands. You’re pulled into his lap after a few minutes, running your fingers through his hair next. Finally, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Thank you,” he mumbles and though you’re not quite sure why, you still say a quiet you’re welcome, silently soothing him through whatever happened.
If you couldn’t tell, he needs a lot of reassurance. Not so much words, but actions like the snippet above. I mean, he can be as strong as he wants but we all know he’s got some baggage and while he’s able to put it aside, for the most part, I think when you’re at home he’s just a little more vulnerable.
Now, onto happier things! If you like coffee or tea, he will always make you a cup in the morning. Jotaro is a very early riser except on the weekends, so he usually gets that done while reading or watching the news and when you come down, he’ll ask if you want breakfast then make it for you seeing as he’s more awake.
He loves coffee. So much. He might have a caffeine addiction, honestly. At all times of every day, you can see him with a black coffee in hand and a book or phone in the other. He will switch to decaf at some point, but you might have to switch it for him. He’s forgetful when he gets busy.
Sleeping in on the weekends is like heaven for him. The two nights (or more on holidays) that he gets a full nights rest, breakfast in bed and a warm soul to cuddle into. He’s usually big spoon with a hand just resting on your side, but please, for the love of god make him the little spoon once a week. Will never admit it or vocalize wanting it. He just grabs your hand and drapes it over him with a “good night” and then promptly passes out.
He’s a heavy sleeper but doesn’t sleep often. Once he’s out, there is nothing that could wake him up except the fire alarm or something like that. It just takes a while. Not because of trauma, but more just internal clock is delayed.
Not a bath guy, strictly showers ‘cause they’re quicker. Most of the time he’s in and out before you can invite him into yours. When you do he’s “reluctant” but showers with you are a favourite of his. He gets his hair washed for him (if he bends down), he can wash you. It’s great.
I don’t think he would want more kids. He’s getting older, busier and just doesn’t think he has the time to care for a baby, even with help. Plus, if they were anything like Joylne or god forbid him when he was younger, he might start greying sooner than he thought. Joylne is a great kid, but... she’s definitely got some of his defiance in him. One kid is fine.
He doesn’t really like pets either, hates when there’s fur on all the furniture. But, if you came home with a stray cat or two, he’s not gonna put up a fight if you say they’re not going to the pound. “Just as long as you take care of them yourself.”
You got him a betta fish once because Jotaro. Fish. Makes sense. He thought it was a little pointless at first. You can’t pet them or play fetch (not like he does those things anyway). All a fish does is sit there and look pretty. You were a little disappointed, but whatever, you’ll take care of it. Then he comes home one day with a 30-gallon tank, freshwater plants and fancy lighting to help them grow which he quietly sets up in the living room. He spent at least a half-hour deciding on where to put it.
A week later, after he’s pleased with how it looks and the tank has been cycled he puts in an order for more fish then lets your betta acclimate to the tank. “There, he’ll be happier in here. The idea of bettas not enjoying or panicking in larger tanks is a myth. He won’t be alone for long anyway. He also won’t kill everything in the tank.” Well, he hopes he won’t, each fish is different. Thankfully, the small school of tetras get along with your betta just fine. From then on, he’s in there once a week, cleaning everything, trimming the overgrowth. It is officially his tank.
#Jotaro is probably my biggest comfort character and the first one I really fell in love with out of jojo so this had to be done at some poin#jotaro kujo#kujo jotaro#jotaro kujo x reader#jotaro x reader#jotaro headcanons#sfw prompts
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
Commission info for Love Letters from your favorite character here!
- Honestly, your probably meet him through his Dad or all people
- You meet Arthur at the store, you’re probably at a department store or the grocery store
- Maybe you work here, maybe you just come there weekly to run errands
- But you’re probably a personal shopper
- And you’re looking for something in particular, but every time you go to that section, there’s this lanky middle aged man just standing there
- And you really don’t want to get involved
- But your over active imagination gets the best of you
- What’s if he’s a widower? And he’s just not used to shopping because his partner did all of that
- Or what if he’s trying to get a gift for his new love interest and he’s just trying to get back out there
- And well, if he is a widower, and he just needs some help- shouldn’t you help him?
- Isn’t that just the right thing to do?
- So even though you don’t want to get involved, you very hesitantly approach this red haired man
- “Um, excuse me sir- but is there something I can help you with?”
- He lights up when you approach him
- Looks like the poor thing is a widower
- “Would you explain the purpose to me of this item?”
- He’s holding up a bath kit, one that comes with a bath bomb, some bath salts, and bubble bath soap
- “Um well it’s a bath kit sir”
- He looks at the package for several ing moments before pointing to the circular bath bomb
- “Is this a sweet? Is it a treat you eat when you’re in the bath tub?”
- You practically fall over yourself rushing to tell him that no, it is in fact not a treat
- “It’s like a bubble bath type of thing, you drop it into the water and it turns the bath a certain color, this ones a fortune type so after it’s done fizzing out you get a little fortune.”
- “Well isn’t that fascinating, you Muggles are quite remarkable”
- You don’t think it’s that amazing, just some baking soda and aromatics
- Also what’s a muggle? Is that some middle age slang for young people?
- You help him to the register, and you think that’ll be it, you’ll probably never see him
- So imagine your surprise when you see him again next week, this time in front of a completely different section with the same expression
- “Well hello again, can you help me with this?”
- It’s sort of a fast friendship, you learn a little more about him with each visit
- He is in fact, not, a widower
- He has 8, no 7 children
- And he works for the government
- “A glorified paper pusher really” he says, but you get the feeling he’s being humble
- “How old are you, if you don’t mine me asking?”
- You tell him and he smiles
- “That’s how old my Son is, you two would be a good match.”
- “Which one? Don’t you have seven?”
- He smiles, because you still count Fred as his child even though he’s gone, just like him
- “Take your pick, I’ve got a whole volleyball teams for you to pick from”
- You laugh
- He’s a nice guy, the exact image of what a dad is, you think
- You like him
- Arthur likes you too, he thinks you would be a good match for Percy, maybe George
- He wants to give Percy a fighting chance, he’s a good boy-
- But he’s got his nose stuck in a book most days, Arthur considers it lucky if he ever gets married
- So it’s in early winter that he drags Percy with him to the department store hoping he’ll run into you
- “Why do I have to come along again?”Percy asks grumbling as he walks beside his father
- “Because I’m buying gifts for my department-“
- “You never buy us any gifts” Charlie teases from his other side
- Arthur also brought Charlie, to seem a little less obvious about his intentions of setting you up with one of his children
- He figures Charlie is the most harmless, if you see Bill... well that would be disappointing for you
- considering he’s married and all
- And the scars might raise more questions than he’s willing to answer
- And then Ron was busy at the ministry today, an emergency or something.
- He’s already decided as he walks through the store that if this doesn’t work out, he’s bringing George next week-
- And if that doesn’t work out, well-
- Maybe Ginny would be more your type
- how solid are Harry and Ginny really
- He’s so caught up in his own mental gymnastics that he doesn’t realize one of his sons isn’t following him until he’s well inside the store
- “Where’s Percy?”
- “Oh, he left like 15 minutes ago to take a phone call for work, but I bet he snuck off to that bookstore across the street.” Charlie says casually eyeing a brightly colored display
- Arthur sighs, well he does need to get some gifts for the kids, almost Christmas and all
- “Hello Arthur, what are you dissecting today?” You ask when you see him
- “Just picking up gifts with my son-“
- A small frown lilts onto your face, his son?
- It’s only a little shift of your head and you see him
- Well isn’t he just gorgeous
- He’s got a firm build, toned arms littered with dozens of scars and burns
- His face is chiseled, with a light dusting of red hair, matching vivid hair is long and pulled into a bun
- And the deepest brown eyes you’ve ever seen
- Damn what a hottie
- Arthur should have told told you his son was a total smokeshow
- And he’s got 6 of them?!? Are they all this gorgeous?
- Arthur doesn’t miss the way you look at Charlie
- And one glance at Charlie is all He needs to know that the feeling is mutual
- Why didn’t he think of Charlie?
- Well- actually he had started to think that maybe Charlie just didn’t feel that way about people.
- And so, to be supportive, he wasn’t going to push him into any romantic relationship
- But well since he seems to find you pleasing-
- “This is my son Charlie-“ he says putting both his hands on Charlie’s shoulders and jerking him closer to you
- A light red begins to dust Charlie’s cheeks, wether it’s from embarrassment or attraction he’s not sure
- You fidget in front of him feeling oddly self conscious
- “Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N)”
- He takes you hand in his with a firm squeeze and you feel a little lightheaded
- His hands are surprisingly soft
- On closer inspection he’s got a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose
- Adorable really
- “So how do you know my dad?” He asks when Arthur is busy /giving you two time to get to know each other looking through the candle selection
- “Oh um I don’t know I guess we just became friends talking about how stuff works?”
- It’s a little weird to think about it, Arthur is your dads age, but he’s like your friend?
- It’s kinda weird tbh
- You wonder how Charlie’s digesting it but he just grins
- “Yeah that sounds like Dad.”
- It’s cute, the way he looks at his Dad
- You remember hearing about Charlie, that he works far away and that Arthur and his wife worry about him. And that he likes animals
- It’s kind of like meeting a celebrity, you know all about him
- except for the fact that he’s a wizard of course
- Well, it was nice meeting one of Arthur’s famous son’s, you suppose he’ll go back to Romania soon and -
- “I was wondering-“ he leans down, his voice low “if you might do me a small favor?”
- Your eyebrows thread together and your head tilts to the side a bit
- “It depends on what it is”
- Charlie only grins
- And so you find yourself standing in front of King’s Cross Station on your next free day, wearing a nice outfit that seems neither too causal, or like you’re trying too hard
- Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt until you see Charlie round the corner
- Well doesn’t he look absolutely delicious
- He’s wearing a crisp white collard shirt and a sweater over it, with a pair of khaki trousers
- Very dark academia
- “Sorry have you been waiting long?”
- You shake your head
- “No only a few minutes, have you thought about what you might want to get him?” You ask and he flashes a little and shakes his head
- “The best I could think of was a gadget of some kind?”
- You nod, you can work with that
- The favor Charlie wanted was pretty simple
- He needed help picking out a Christmas gift for his Dad
- Oddly wholesome in its own way
- You take him to a large department store
- “Maybe this pasta maker?”
- “No, Mum’s already got one”
- He should know, his dad enchanted it to make pasta on its own
- “Than maybe this waffle maker?”
- He shakes his head again, they had one and it did not end well
- You go to several stores throughout the day, but there’s nothing quite right at any of them
- Eventually you both slump down on chairs, untouched mugs of tea in front of you, both of you utterly exhausted
- “This is so much harder than I thought” you mumble, Arthur seems like such an easy to please person
- “I’m sorry” Charlie says, honestly the reason neither of you can pick something is because he can’t be honest with you
- Yeah his Dad loves muggle gadgets, but he loves them because he wants to take them apart, to see how it works
- And then he wants to enchant certain parts to make the contraption even better
- But he can’t tell you all that now can he?
- Not when you’re a muggle
- He sighs leaning back in his chair
- Maybe he shouldn’t have asked you for help, he saw how close you and his Dad were, like you were already family-
- But it’s unfair to you to monopolize all your free time like this-
- “It’s no problem really, this is actually really fun”
- You’re not lying, hanging out with Charlie is really fun.
- Usually spending time with people you’ve only just met exhausts you
- But being with him makes you feel comfortable, the two of you falling into a comfortable rhythm
- Guess he’s kinda like his Dad in that way
- You feel your mouth quirk into a small smile at the thought.
- He kinda looks like his dad too on closer inspection, around the jaw and-
- “Are your ears pierced?” You ask, and Charlie immediately flushes. A hand nervously fluttering to his ear
- “U-um yes, I did it when I was younger-“ he lets out a nervous laugh
- You raise an eyebrow
- “What did some girl break your heart?”
- He sputters at that
- “N-no of course not”
- You feel a wicked grin curling on your face, he’s awfully fun to tease
- “Boyfriend then?”
- He’s burning so bright red that you think steam might actually start coming out of his ears
- “N-no it was nothing like that,” his eyes are looking into his mug, fingers still twiddling with his earlobe.
- “My brother and I got them at the same time with our other friend. It was really their thing, wanting to get the piercing that is, I just joined to be apart of it”
- You can certainly see it, Charlie getting swept up in his friends things.
- “Besides this sort of thing... it doesn’t really suit me” he lets out a nervous laugh and you feel your heart swell
- “I think it would look great on you” The words leave your mouth without even thinking and you feel your face grow hot when they do.
- What are you saying!?!
- You’re embarrassed, but Charlie’s flattered.
- He’s never been the favorite sibling, he’s not as brave as Bill, or as funny as George, Percy’s the smart one, Ron’s the charismatic one, and Ginny’s the athletic one
- He hasn’t got anything to compete with honestly-
- All he can do is try to emulate his siblings, he guesses he’s still trying to figure out who he is
- Which is a little pathetic at his age- at least that’s how he feels
- But hearing you say it would look good on him- well it makes his heart flutter
- Meanwhile you’re completely ignorant to the fact that you’re making his heart race
- Completely caught up in your own embarrassment
- Geez you’re just blurting stuff out like a kid
- A lightbulb goes over your head
- “Hey I think I might have an idea of what your Dad might like!”
- You practically tug him into the the next shop, his face contorted in confusion until you show him what you thought of
- “Oh Merlin, it’s perfect”
- You’re both standing in the toy section of a department store
- Charlie’s watching the bubble machine like it’s the best thing he’s ever saw
- His dad is going to love enchanting it
- While Charlie’s asking the clerk about gift wrapping and other things you wander around the store
- Stopping when you see a rack of candles
- They’re the ‘homesick’ candles, with a scent that’s a place
- And then you see something else glint from the corner of your eye
- “Thank you so much for your help today-“
- You’re both standing in front of king’s cross again, you’re about to go home
- Charlie takes a deep gulp, if he was brave like Bill he might ask you on a date- a real day
- But he’s not
- So he’ll just thank you for your time, and ask for a business card so he can send you a tasteful gift with maybe a card asking to spend time again with you
- But before he can get the words out you thrust something out to him
- It’s a neat folded striped pink and green bag
- He takes it carefully on his hands, leading inside
- “Candles?”
- You nod
- “They’re those homesick candles, they have a scent for places, I got you London and then another one that says English country- it’s amber, honeysuckle and moss, I thought you might like it” you’re blabbering-
- There really wasn’t a need to do anything like this for him
- But well- you know he probably feels so homesick, not to mention his rowdy siblings
- So maybe this will offer him some comfort
- But he’s not looking at the candles he’s looking at something else that’s glinting beside them
- Thick fingers gently pinch the end of the thick paper square
- It’s a pair of earrings
- They’re Dragon Earrings
- “Oh that.” You look at the item with a wide expression “it’s really like a gag gift, I know you work with animals and you’ve got the piercing so-”
- Charlie’s grinning
- “You didn’t have to do all this.”
- “O-oh no, it was no big deal at all, I um- I wanted to.” You give him a shy smile and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach
- He’s never going to be as brave as Bill, or as Smart as Percy, as funny as George or loyal as Ron.
- But he wants to be kind
- As kind as you, if not more
- “No, I couldn’t possibly let you do something like this for me, especially not after all your help today”
- You feel yourself deflate, ah you were overstepping weren’t you?
- It’s just- you’ve heard so much about him and you work so well together,
- You had started to think of him as a friend
- But clearly it was too much -
- “Let me take you out to dinner sometime,” your eyes snap to his face, which is dusted with pink, deep brown eyes staring into your own
- “To repay you for all the kindness you’ve shown me today”
- You feel a smile spread across your face, arching into a goofy grin
- He’s looking at you hopefully, pieces ears burning red. A matching hopeful smile curled onto his face
- “I would love to”
#Harry Potter imagine#harry potter x reader#harry potter reader insert#Harry Potter headcanon#harry potter fanfiction#charlie weasley#charlie weasley x you#charlie weasley x jacob's sibling#charlie weasley x reader#Charlie Weasley x mc#Charlie Weasley imagine#Charlie Weasley headcanon#Charlie Weasley reader insert#harry potter hogwarts legacy#harry potter hogwarts mystery
262 notes
·
View notes
Text
First Date
Words: 1493 Pairing: Bucky x Reader Warning: none Summary: Reader and Bucky have been set up by their mutual friend Sam Wilson. Things start off awkward at first, but after Reader shares a bit about herself and her life, Bucky warms up enough to share some details about his own life.
“James?” You asked the man sitting at the table with uncertainty. Well Sam had been right about one thing, he certainly was handsome. He had steely blue eyes and a strong jawline. He was wearing a motorcycle jacket and a pair of riding gloves. He looked up from the book he’d been reading. “I’m Sam’s friend…”
“[Y/N].” He finished for you in a gravelly voice. “Please sit down.” He invited you to join him at the table’s only other empty seat. So you shrugged off your jacket and sat down. It was a nice enough night, just over fifty degrees out, but you’d wished you’d worn something warmer.
“I should have worn a sweater.” You mumbled mostly to yourself.
“You could keep the jacket on.” He suggested in a way he thought was helpful.
“I would but it doesn’t quite fit. It’s been too small for a while now.” You confessed. “But it’s my lucky jacket.” He leaned sideways in his seat to steal a peak at the jacket in question.
“You have a lucky denim jacket?” He straightened in his chair again.
“I’ve had this jacket since I was in high school. I took my SATs in this jacket, wore it to my first job interview. What can I say,” You shrugged. “Just because something’s old doesn’t mean it’s outworn its usefulness.” This made him laugh for some reason. “Reading anything good?” You attempted to read his book’s title upside down.
“Oh, not really.” He shrugged.
“I’ve never read Lord of the Rings. Is it your first time through?” You asked him.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “You, ah, you read?”
“Are you asking if I know how to read?” You question.
“What? No I was just…”
“Relax.” You smiled at him. “I was just teasing. Tolkien’s not my thing, though. I don’t need to read three pages about the Baggins’ legacy handkerchief collection. Now the Star Wars novels…” You let your sentence trail off as you nodded with approval.
“They have Star Wars books too?” He seemed almost exhausted by the idea.
“Hundreds of them.” You confirmed.
“Have you ever eaten here before?” He questioned, bringing his attention to the menu.
“No, I assumed you had.” You said, also picking up your menu.
“Sam recommended it.” He mumbled.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s great then.” Sam was a bit of a foodie so there was a high probability any place he recommended was good. As you skimmed the menu, scanning your options you noticed the prices were a bit over your own budget.
“This place seems…expensive.” You commented, unable to phrase it more delicately.
“Oh? You don’t find Forty-five dollars a reasonable price for pasta and chicken?” He scoffed.
“I know a place not too far away, do you maybe want to get out of here?” You suggested. James looked down at the menu in his hand, seeming to weigh the options.
“If Sam asks, we both had the steak, and it was delicious.” He smiled getting to his feet. You put your lucky jacket back on and followed James out of the restaurant. “So how do you know Sam?” He wanted to know once the two of you were walking in step together.
“Ah, work…sort of.” You told him vaguely. “You?”
“Same.” He replied quickly.
“Are you a veteran?” You questioned.
“You could say that.” He sighed. “You?”
“No, my Dad was. Vietnam.” You explained. “I met Sam while I was helping out the VA.”
“You said was. Is your father…” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“Yeah. It’s been years now, so my mother and I have adjusted to life without him, but there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t feel like there was more we could have done for him.” You shook your head. “I’m so sorry, this is a terrible conversation for a first date.”
“No, no it’s fine.” He insisted. “Much better than asking me about a childhood pet or I don’t know, my favorite color. It’s refreshing to have someone share their life so openly.”
“Oh? It can go both ways, ya know.” You elbowed him playfully.
“What do you want to know?” He asked stuffing his hands in his pockets. You continued walking, taking a minute to think of something interesting to ask him.
“What is something you’d never bring up on a first or second date, but your romantic partner should know?” You asked. He stopped walking, which surprised you. You stopped too, turning to look back at him.
“I’m a hundred and three years old.” He said before continuing down the street.
“Okay, well if you’re not going to take it seriously, don’t open the door to…” You rolled your eyes before chasing after him.
“I’m being serious.” He insisted, not looking at you.
“How can you be a hundred and three years old? The only person who looks as good as you and is that old is Captain America. The internet says he’s up on the moon or whatever but either way you’re not Captain America. So how could you possibly be that old?”
“Never mind. Forget I said anything.” He mumbled. You wanted to prod some more but you’d reached your destination. “C’mon.” You tugged him by the elbow towards a small hole in the wall restaurant.
The restaurant wasn’t much. It was certainly small with only about ten tables. The décor was simple and slightly outdated. Along one wall was a mural of Italian wine makers stomping grapes. There were yards of faux grape vines winding and twisting like trim across the top of the dining room. Some sections of vine even had plastic grapes dangling from them. The tabletops were well worn, their red and white gingham patterned had faded slightly over the years. It wasn’t much, but it was warm and the food was good.
“Best pizza in the whole city, I swear.” You promised as you dragged him inside.
“This place doesn’t even look open.” He commented with uncertainty. There was no one in the dining room when you arrived, but at the sound of the bell over the door, A short woman in an apron stepped out from the kitchen. A teenage boy in all black stumbled out beside her.
“I’m so sorry, but we are closed for tonight. You come back tomorrow.” The woman started to say in her thick Italian accent.
“Ma, it’s me.” You rolled your eyes. Your mother squinted at you, before putting her glasses on. She beamed with a smile once she recognized you.
“[Y/N]? But you are supposed to be out on a date, not here.” She argued.
“Well, I brought my date here. Ma, Marco, this is…” You began to introduce him.
“Bucky, Ma’am. My friends call me Bucky.” He introduced you.
“Are you taking good care of my [Y/N], Bucky?” Your mother asked.
“Ma, leave him alone. He hasn’t even been able to eat yet.” You told.
“Not eaten?” You mother seemed scandalized. “You left an hour ago to go to that fancy restaurant! Sit, sit, both of you. Marco, go get table setting for your cousin!” She ordered the young boy.
“è bello, no?” You mother whispered to you. You wanted to chastise her, but Bucky replied back in Italian.
“Non bella come tua figlia.” He smirked.
“I will cook something special for you, Bucky.” You mother decided.
“Just pizza will be fine, Ma!” You called after her. “So, you speak Italian?” You quested as the two of you sat at the nearest table.
“You don’t?” He continued to smile.
“Not since my dad…” You confessed looking around.
“I’m guessing this was his place?” He nodded towards the large neon sign behind the bar proclaiming the restaurant as Antonio’s.
“It was my grandfather’s. Then my dad took it over and he was a terrible cook.” You laughed. “He hired my mom to be his chef, that’s how they met. They were a perfect team for over thirty years. Since then, we’ve been doing everything to keep it afloat. It’ll kill both of us to lose it.”
“I really am a hundred and three.” He said again, not knowing what else to say. “I tell people that I wear these gloves because I have poor circulation, but the truth is…” He tugged off his right glove first, then his second. You noticed, even in the dim lighting of the restaurant his left hand seemed to be made of metal. “It’s vibranium.” He told you flexing his fingers so you could see them.
“Bucky.” You repeated. “A hundred and three. Are you the guy they were looking for all those years back? The one they thought did the Socovian Accords bombing?”
“How can you be sure I didn’t do it?” He asked.
“I just have this feeling about you.” You shrugged. “Like you’d never hurt a fly. So, tell me, Bucky. How do I get to be a hundred and three and still look as good as you?”
#Bucky Barnes#Bucky Barnes x Reader#Bucky Barnes Reader Insert#Bucky Barnes Fan Fiction#Bucky Barnes Fan Fic#Bucky Barnes FF#TFATWS
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
— title : calming the waters
— word count : 2.3 k words
— pairing : rick grimes x reader
— summary : the switch from surviving on the road to living in a cookie cut neighbourhood hasn’t been easy on anyone, especially the leader of your group, you leave it to yourself to remind him it’s not all on his shoulders
— warnings : only brief descriptions of blood and violence .. usual stuff for twd
note: only at the end did i realise i left the opportunity for smut but im too tired to continue damn
Life in Alexandria has so far been strange to adjust to, you continue to find yourself waking up regularly through the night. Your body has relied so long on a broken sleep cycle it simply cannot switch off the switch as easily as you wish for it, and wish for it you do every night before bed. However, life refuses to heed to your desires, preferring to disregard them completely. Your family finds it amusing to tease you about the dark circles under your eyes, that is after you have had anything with caffeine in to rattle your system into a state of alertness.
How the residents have made it this far agitates you to no end, while you and your family have suffered tragedy and loss at the hands of people like the Governor, to the people at Terminus while they sat sheltered and safe from the horrors of this new world crawls under your skin. The thought scratching inside of you, they’ve never known pain as you have, the realisation comes as one of the sons of the Monroe family accosted you the moment you set out of the door.
“ ⏤ she keeps going on about this pasta maker. I’m telling you, she never stops. “
“ she never stops, huh? “ you ask, placing yourself on the porch step with your head lazily resting in your hands. You felt as soon as he began speaking to you it was going to be a conversation you would not be interested in.
The you from twenty five minutes ago happens to be correct.
This all began because Rick thought it appropriate to let you sleep a while longer, and while you do feel more rested than you have in the longest time you can remember, you can feel irritation tickling the back of your neck intensely. Oh, I’m going to kill him when I see him. A silent thought interrupts you rudely, you almost shake your head to be rid of it and focus back on Spencer.
“ yeah, she’s not someone you wanna be caught right now by. She can talk your ears off for days. “ he informs with a chuckle, completely unaware of your blasé attitude or uncaring for it.
“ you know, I can really imagine that. “
Every inch of you is buzzing with an uncomfortable energy, you don’t want to integrate with their community just yet, preferring to feel around and understand the dynamics of how everything works. When society fell into the flames from humanity’s last fight with the walkers, you were lucky enough to have been able to seek safety with your group back in Atlanta at the quarry, and these have been the same people you have spent time with, shared your meals with, everything done has been with them. Quiet town life has been a memory of a past life that has faded into nothing more than a grey blur, shrouded in fog. To live here? It’s like learning how to ride a bicycle after many years of letting it gather dust. Your ways are not perfect, but they’re perfect for you. For your own pace and peace of mind.
“ has my mom given you a job yet? “
“ uh, yeah actually she has. I used to be a preschool teacher before everything went to hell. “ you explain to him, your memories of the children you used to teach had been painful until Judith. The little girl had been what you needed to confront your past that you had been so quick to push away in order to survive. You can’t count how many times you’d come close to thinking about their little faces, and if they’d survived the initial chaos, refusing to even put a face to a possible death. You’d spent many days and many hours getting to know their audacious and bold personalities, it cut you deep to even imagine the days they were supposed to have, the lives they should have been promised extinguished so prematurely as if they had been no more than a flame of a candle burning in the night.
“ well, those classes are really small. You won’t have your hands full. I suppose you’ll probably be helping with the afternoon classes, we’ve got more teenagers here. “
“ mhm, I thought as much. “ your words are a small acknowledgement, though it deterred him little.
Spencer keeps talking and talking, every once in a while you mutter an ‘ yeah ‘ or an ‘ mhm ‘ and even at points humming in response. It’s obvious he means well and is trying to get to know you all but it’s just a simple clash of cultures, it’s why you’re unable to cut the conversation short so rudely. Even during the apocalypse being respectful hasn’t been wiped away.
Yet.
“ hi, Spencer! “ the sugary sweet tone of Carol interrupted the interaction as she greets Spencer and yourself, the broad smile ignites her features.
Although, you know her better to know this is not one born of genuine emotion to see the man.
“ I was hoping to borrow my friend here. Rick’s looking for them. “
Recognition lights his features up, his eyes widen in understanding her words. Never have you been more thankful for the older woman than currently, if there’s one thing Carol can be, is a miracle maker. Spencer backs away with little to say, bidding a goodbye to both of you.
“ Carol, thank you. “ you breathe, your hands move up to scratch your scalp as tension eased away into the open air. “ I thought he was never going to leave. “
“ yeah, I thought you were in trouble. I thought you were ready to kill him. “
“ believe me, if he spoke for two more minutes I was coming close to getting very creative with one of those blunt dinner knives in there. “ you speak, a short giggle plummeting from your lips at the thought.
“ he’s at the gate ⏤ Rick, that is. If you want him. “
A few more words of light hearted humour are exchanged between you, just little things. You have known Carol for a long time, one of the few people to continue to see her as a human after losing Sophia, yes she was in mourning, but she was still human. You never tiptoed around her, you offered her support as best you could and for that she continues to be grateful. Even in the prison, you became closer, as time passed on she took up something of a parental role in your life. Though you were old enough at the time to not need one, you accepted it. A slice of normality granted to you for what reason you have never found out, but one you wouldn’t seek out either, for some things happen without cause or reason, a mystery of life.
Turning around a corner, you’d realised you took a wrong turn around one of the houses, your sense of direction would have been your downfall had you not found the people you now call your family. Admittedly, you’d not spent much time exploring the vast environment that is home to these large homes, you still dedicated some time to mapping all the twists and turns. However, not even that has aided you. Despite this, you find a silver lining to getting lost.. you have been able to shake off whatever blades of irritation that sorely wished to cling to your being for longer, you wanted nothing more than to approach Rick without anything that could set him off.
Though few words have been shared between you both about how you all feel about being in Alexandria, it doesn’t mean you haven’t noticed a tension building its blocks within Rick. Knowing all he has been through, you’re worried that he will reduce himself to being no more than a caged animal, biding his time to break free. It’s why you’re searching him out, a discussion is sorely needed before anything should happen, chaos has a way of trailing your family like a puppy following its master.
“ there you are. “
Rick lays his sights on you in the distance, waiting for you to move closer before saying a word. You would go so far as to say it has been one of the few instances of genuine contentment as his features relax from the lines of strain it held not even a few moments previously. Your hands move straight to your hips, standing a few metres away from him.
“ oh, you were actually looking for me? “ eyebrows raise ever so slightly, you thought Carol had been simply nudging you in his direction.
“ just to check the perimeter. “
“ and you need me for that ? “ you question him as your hands move to rest on your hips, a knowing smile lifting your expression as you observe him.
“ ‘course I do. “ Rick’s tone matches yours, it’s been a while since you’ve heard even the faintest hint of amusement associated with the intense male. It’s alien in a sense, though you’re welcoming of it.
Few words are exchanged with the Alexandrian who has been tasked with guarding the gate, exchanging the barest of information you realise as you watch Rick. You hope that even an hour outside the walls of the town is enough to soothe even the slightest of the negative energy that surrounds his being. Your situation is not perfect, and it’s inverted to what you had been experiencing previously, but you believe in your heart that this has to work. The thought of your family not being able to survive yet another bout of the outside world terrifies you to your core, the ice that is your fear erupting from your centre at the idea.
“ is there a real reason why you wanted me out here? “
“ it’s been a while since it was just us, gettin’ hard to breathe in there. “
“ Rick, you know I’m always here if you need it. I hate to see you carry everything on your shoulders the way you do. “
The hardness that had embedded itself into his face slowly eases at your words and thanks you for your support, he reaches out in between the distance that separates you to slip his fingers between yours. A comfort warms you in a way that no heat could at the action, you’re unable to stop the laugh that bursts free with a splutter. Even back on the road, and he was at his wits end, he was never this affectionate. It’s not something you hold against him though, there were many more things on his mind that required more attention.
“ somethin’ funny? “ he questions you immediately.
“ seeing this side of you, it’s just a bit weird. A good kind of weird, though. “ you assure, continuing to walk over the overgrown branches. “ you’re doing okay? Like, really? “
“ just hard to get used to. These people have just been lucky. “
You nod in understanding, it’s been your first thought every morning since walking through that gate with months of dirt and grime that had accumulated, clinging to every inch of your skin. While blood from the dead dried into your skin, becoming part of you, they lathered themselves in floral perfumes and sprays. As much as you want to allow the venom to pool within you, to form a monster born of hate ⏤ you can’t.
In this world you can’t be driven by such emotions, to aim them at innocent people. Had you been in their position, would it be such an easy position to leave this protected bubble? A piece of the previous world left untouched by the cold, ghostly grip of the dead.
“ we can’t hold it against them. “
“ they’re weak, they could get one of ours killed. “ he quietly grumbles in response, his head shaking at the thought. They’d lost too much already, and he would be damned if he lost any more members of his family, especially now they’d reached an element of safety.
“ or they might not? “ you counter his statement, your eyes pleading as you stop where you stand, your hands still connected.
“ we can’t deal in maybes, we deal in certainties. “
“ what are you suggesting, Rick? That we take over? “ you ask, your brows dropping lower. You’d seen enough death and violence to last you a lifetime, you’d had enough for now. You can’t confirm if you have enough energy for another fight. Too much has been lost.
“ if it comes to it. “
“ this is their home now, our home. They’re not bad people. “ you argue lightly, not wishing for a heated disagreement out there. Any walker around would be attracted by the noise and then the smell of the living, you’ve begun to get used to not having to slaughter walkers every day.
“ no, but they’re unprepared. “
“ so were we at some point! “ inch by inch, you close the distance. You rest your grip on his forearms, trying to calm him no matter how useless it may or may not be. “ Rick, you’re trying to create a problem. I get this is an adjustment and if anything does happen, we’ll have you back. We will fight, but for the sake of safety.. we have somewhere to actually live. “
Against his better judgement he nods, just to put a stop to the conversation. He’d wanted to spend some time alone with you that held no prying eyes from Alexandrians, nor the entertained gazes of your group.
“ let’s just see how things go, and try not to keep things bottled up. It never works out. “
“ I’m not sure you want me to share my deep, dark secrets. “ he asserts with a playful inkling hidden poorly within his words.
A smirk lines itself into your features, you’re feeling the energy from Rick and you can’t deny that it feels good. You lift your chin higher, inching your lips closer to his, the warm glow beginning to burn brighter ⏤ a silent dare in the form of a quiet whisper on your tongue. “ try me. “
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
Confessions
In the night: Chapter 2
T.Jeff- Hamilton: the musical
Y/N can’t hold all her secrets. She’s tired of hiding. The people deserve the truth. Here’s her confession: the one she should’ve told us long ago
I started to write this chapter the day after I finished chapter 1, yet before the first chapter was even published (time management queen). As I’m typing this message, I’m currently distracting myself from finals LMAO. Anyway, I wanted to finish this chapter as soon as possible to give some explanation of the events in the previous chapter, so I hope I do exactly that. I’m still manifesting that I articulate through this story smoothly, please give me feedback <3
MC (aka Y/N’s) POV
Modern au
Word Count: 5.4k
A few unrealistic realities, but I’m working with what I got
This chapter will most likely answer many questions about chapter 1
THIS CHAPTER OCCURS AT THE SAME TIME AS CHAPTER 1! all events in this chapter line up with the events of chapter 1
Disclaimers:
TW: violence, abuse, mentions of blood, themes of injury, itty bitty angst?
photo not mine <3
If you have any questions/concerns about this story, DONT BE SHY TO ASK ME! This is my first time writing a whole series, so I apologize if the plot gets confusing.
-Now Playing: Broken Clocks by SZA-
Where to start…
My attention was taken from Professor Washington’s lecture the moment I felt a pair of eyes attempting to pierce a hole in the back of my head. As I look back, I realize that it’s no one other than Thomas Jefferson, the spoiled francophile, or so people like the whisper, but gossip’s not my thing.
Upon being called out by Professor Washington, I couldn’t hold in my giggle as Thomas’s head ducks down in embarrassment. I suppose he sure knows how to lighten the demeanor in the lecture hall; It was a nice excuse to take my eyes off of Washington’s low-quality power-point presentation, but I appreciate that the man is trying.
This class feels like it’ll last forever, and I contemplate if I could just perish in my seat at this very instant, yet Thomas’s presence seems to make it worthwhile. I don’t know him that much, or maybe at all for that matter, but since he’s been seen with a Schuyler, the locals around here can’t seem to keep their mouths shut about him.
From what I’ve heard, he’s another silver-spoon raised boy representing Virginia up here in New York. A few scholarships here and there, as well as a trip to France for a semester. I don’t see what all the fuss is about; He seems like a pretty cool person, probably has an exciting life, and isn’t throwing away his shot. It’s odd, even with parents to piggyback off of, Thomas is very similar to a certain orphan I know.
“Class is dismissed” Is all I heard from Professor Washington’s mouth before that obnoxious but relieving bell sounds off.
Desperate to get out of this class, I hurry to put my stationery items into my burgundy-magenta backpack. You’d think after those turbulent years of high school that college would motivate me for fancier bags, but I can’t say no to my favorite color. It’s simple, won’t bring attention to my presence, unlike every other decision I’ve made in my life.
After I finally finished packing up, I can’t wait to take a breath of the fresh, polluted air of New York City. I quickly spotted my roommate's car within the crowd of vehicles next to the sidewalk. He’s on time, as always, to pick me up from class, and I’m grateful that he sacrifices his time for me, but it’s not like he had a choice. I toss my bag into the trunk, surely crinkling a few important papers. Upon reaching the door of his expensive car, my roommate greets me with joy to see me.
“How was class, Cherie?”
Lafayette, my roommate, shoots a smile at me, his white teeth are almost blinding, but he always says I’m exaggerating.
“Boring as always, but I’m still here, sadly” I say as I hop into the front seat of Lafayette’s car. He pouts in my direction
“Ahh, c’mon, don’t be like that.” Once he acknowledges the buckling of my seatbelt, he begins to power up the car. “C’est la vie, Y/N” I roll my eyes, my hatred for him grows just a little more every time he says that.
“Can we get McDonald’s?” I attempt to change the subject, earning a small chuckle from him. He prepares to drive off “You know I can't say no to you and your American junk food”
And so we begin to drive off
Lafayette and I indeed have a bit of history together. After I got mistakenly involved with Alexander and his clique, Lafayette was the next best (or worse) person to walk into my life. He’s sweet, charming, probably all the things Americans are not; the gentleman hails from France. Yet he’s so much more than that.
Ever since I caught his eye at that obnoxious high school party, he and I hit the ground running. Disclosing the events which took place in his-
our bedroom won’t solve the problem, but the stubble on his jaw and the way he holds the steering wheel with one hand nearing my thigh reminds me of the unresolved sexual tension between the both of us.
I’ve only been living in his apartment for a few months, an idea he proposed when I mentioned my dreadful rent. A nice view, nice coffee maker, and nice bedsheets were more than enough to convince me, but I know there’s more to that “nice” list that I shouldn’t disclose.
Though I know his intentions were good, I’m sure he invited me into his abode to protect me from Alex.
Since I began to band with Alex and his gang, Alexander’s been strict about getting me home on time. It wasn’t only because I was a helpless high school student, but also to prevent me from ratting him and his group out to the authorities.
Upon joining Alex's posse, a strict curfew has been placed on me, only to ensure I stay safe at night, or perhaps to make sure I don’t betray them.
Moving in with Lafayette made following this time limitation easier for me, especially since he volunteers to drive me home or takes a stand for me. If the unfortunate event of my arrival past my ‘bedtime’ timer occurs, Alexander ensures I pay the price.
Speaking of arrivals, Lafayette passes me a box of hot, salty fries and a smile spreads across my face. His eyes visibly soften as my entire demeanor changes.
“Have I ever told you that you’re the best person ever?” I spilled my thoughts while stuffing my mouth with fries. He lightly chuckles, watching me.
“Maybe a couple of times..” He prepares to drive off again “...too many times, actually.” he shot a wink at me.
Blood didn’t have any time to rush to my cheeks before I could slap the side of his shoulder, causing him to whine in discomfort. I sigh before returning my focus to the steaming fries in front of me. The tension grows, and so does the silence between us. Eager to break the tension, I propose an idea.
“Let’s go home?” we turn to each other at the same time
“Oui.”
---
I enter Professor Washington’s lecture hall and my attention is driven to the two curly-headed Virginians. I watch in secondhand embarrassment as Thomas Jefferson and his friend playfully argue in front of the entire class, seemingly a heated debate of the greatness of Mac and Cheese. One argues on behalf of the gooey pasta, while the other simultaneously retorts with a mix of “you’re so stupid” and “God help me”.
Feeling a rush of confidence and suaveness, my brain urges my body to intervene in their conversation. Maybe it was to make new friends, or perhaps to stop the class from staring at their dumb dispute, but I swiftly walk over to them. The next few words to come out of my mouth fell into place oh-so-perfectly.
“Hey, can I sit here?”
Upon sitting in between the two Virginians, they introduce themselves. The calmer, self-collected man among the two introduced himself as James Madison, while the bolder, upbeat man introduced himself as no other than Thomas Jefferson. Both of them seemed happy that I interrupted and decided to reach out to them, maybe one was a tad more excited than the other.
And ever since then, Professor Washington can’t seem to split up our trio. From childish jokes and a few inappropriate inferences, Thomas and James make great company. The idiotic smile that spreads across Thomas’s face whenever he’s capable of making James and I break our silence during class would become more annoying than Lafayette saying “C’est la vie” whenever I make a poor life decision.
Nevertheless, Thomas and James dangerously remind me of Alexander and his goons. The abundant amount of self-praise and cocky remarks said by both Thomas and Alexander is almost astronomical. In the case of Thomas and Alexander’s meeting, I’m sure they’d be the best of friends. But likewise, I could also envision the two attempting to tear each other's heads off, the chaotic clashing of two powerful minds.
They always know what to say and when to say it. I’ve never met anyone as clever as Thomas and James, and they’re even worse when they’re together.
“‘ ‘s Adams here today? Washington told me to turn in my papers t’ him.” Thomas whispers as he eases into his chair, Washington’s booming voice seems to become background noise to us
“Is he ever?” I reply, attempting not to giggle at my own response “I haven’t seen him since Washington initially introduced him to the class.”
“Maybe he’s jus’ sick or somethin’. Kinda reminds me of you, James'' His head of curls turns to stare down James, in which James replies by rolling his eyes
“He can stay home, he does the same amount of work there anyways.” James cleverly retorted.
And that seemed to be our last straw before bursting out in laughter. Thomas’s body flung forward as he laughed his head off, James ducking his head to hide his glee behind his laptop, and I quickly slap a hand over my mouth to prevent anyone around us from drawing suspicion. But apparently, Washington wasn’t having our disguises.
“Can the three of you even tell me what I just said?” Washington turns around from the board to scan the crowd, his eagle eyes find us quickly
The silence was all we could emit, and soon enough, He turned back to his lesson. I sigh with relief; the last thing I need is to get kicked out of a class I don’t even pay for.
…
...
“Washington sure got a shiny ass head. D’you think he uses shampoo and conditioner?” Whispered Thomas as he leans over to me
And just like that, we’re faced with the same struggle all over again.
—-
Lafayette adjusted the hot pan, erupting a few sizzles. The wall clock ticked, the hour arm froze pointing to the “11” written in roman numerals. Lafayette and I decided to agree on a home-cooked meal, and although it’s too late for an average dinner, yet too early to be defined as a midnight snack, I’m sure Lafayette’s cooking will satisfy me for the night.
“Y/NN, would you prefer salt on your omelet? Or did you decide to be healthy tonight?” He said holding a salt shaker in the air to steal my focus from the swirling red liquid in my glass.
My head lifts to meet his eyes. I tilt my head, the wine causing me to ponder for a little longer than I should’ve. He continues to stare at me, holding in a laugh, before I force myself to nod.
“Yeah.. a little won’t hurt” I hear him chuckle at my drunken dialect, but I know the French man isn’t about to lecture me about English “Your wish is my command.”
I watch as he conducts the kitchen perfectly. He knows where everything is, exactly what to add into the sizzling pan, maybe even the exact second to take the meal off the flame.
“I thought you weren’t a fan of monarchy?” the sarcasm was evident in my tone “but I appreciate the submission” I shot him a playful wink, to which he responds with a pompous smirk
A few sips of wine later, I recognize notification that has been staring back at me for hours.
1 Message from Thomas
A text from Thomas? And I’m barely seeing this now? I silently scold myself for giving into the wine before opening the message.
“Thomas: Hey this is Thomas from class, wanna come study with us at the library sometime?”
My eyes become glued to my phone. It was certainly necessary for me to reread Thomas’s text, I was unsure if the alcohol was beginning to make me see odd things, but I assured myself I was correct.
I could feel the blush spread across my face. Maybe it’s just the wine taking control, or maybe it’s the butterflies in my stomach forming every time I reread his message. A harmless invite, perhaps evoked from Thomas due to James stroking his ego, but I know James’ wouldn’t promote such a bold, straight-forward message. Though Thomas is known for his meticulous confidence and certainty, a message this simple could be notably deceiving.
But a little socializing won’t damage my self-respect. “Be bold, Y/N” is what I used to tell myself at the beginning of the semester, and what do I have to lose? I begin to type my reply.
“Y/N: yeah I’m down :) just send a time and place and I’ll be on my way”
Sent.
My introspection was soon interrupted by the screeching plate being slid in my direction by Lafayette, the steam circulating the meal
“Y/N, Mangeons.” My head comes up from my phone, my eyes meet his eyes momentarily.
“Thanks, Laf.” I reply before taking a fork from him and digging into the steaming meal ahead of me. Lafayette’s cooking never disappoints. Ever.
My body couldn’t help but pick up my phone every few minutes to respond to Thomas’s messages, Though they were just the details of the hangout-offer he previously proposed, I felt enclosed in my little bubble while texting him. Those few moments of interaction with him somehow made my day better. I’m sure even Lafayette could see my radiating energy, but I’m not sure how he took it.
We’re technically not a couple; a few hookups and moving in together don't make us an official couple, right?
“Merci, Laffy.” I watched as he visibly cringed at my poor attempt at french. “Let’s just stick to our mother tongues, angel.” He retorted. I laughed it off, yet inside his reply left a scratch on my pride.
---
Another class of absolute foolery and childish inferences, and I can’t help but laugh as Thomas, James, and I exit the lecture hall. The New-York cold hits us harshly, but being about a month into this semester, students already know what to expect.
It was indeed embarrassing, running to Lafayette’s car to remind him of your library study session.
“Alright, I’ll pick you up before your curfew, okay?” He asked with one hand on the wheel. His faux-leather jacket contorting around his toned arms made it difficult not to remember the moments they shared around midnight. The imagery of their candle-lit room appearing in her head as he sat at the wheel stopped her from replying for a moment.
“Y-Yeah sounds great. You’re the best, you know that?” She thanked him for sacrificing his time to make sure she arrives home on time.
“You remind me all the time.” He sneaks in a small wink between his sentences “I’ll see you tonight, Cherie”
Y/N smiled before turning around to prance over to her friends. Y/N heard the faint sounds of Lafayette driving off, sighing in relief
After briefly explaining my situation to the boys, we quickly head over to the library.
A woman in a coral-pink blazer and pants set is waiting impatiently at a table she rented out just for us. “What in the world took you guys so long?” She pressured for an answer
“C’mon Angie, that wasn’t even ten minutes.” Thomas rolled his eyes before removing his backpack and opening a chair for Y/N. Real smooth, Thomas, I can’t lie. He looked over to me, seeing stars in my eyes as I realize I’m standing next to the oldest Schuyler.
“You’re-” She interrupted me with a smile, sticking out her hand to shake mine
“Angelica Schuyler. And you?” I swear her name sounds familiar. I’m sure I’ve heard it around but I just can't place it. I do see her on my social media feed from time to time, and I must admit, she looks even more heavenly in person.
“Y/N L/N.” My hand meets hers in a firm handshake.
“Nice to meet you.”
—-
At first, I thought nothing of it.
Though Lafayette’s text at 7:30 (on the dot) did push me out of my zone, I did appreciate his promise to me.
Thomas on the other hand seemed disturbed by my sudden leave, but it’s not like he’d understand. Alexander would literally kill me if I were home late.
But Thomas and I would continue to hang out. His evening texts would slowly become a weekly routine. Whether it was a scary movie or an ice cream date for just the two of us, he always found a way to spend time with me.
“Don’t tell me that mint chocolate chip is actually your favorite flavor, darlin’.” He adjusted his position on the park bench and raised an eyebrow, his gaze focused on the green ice cream atop my ice cream cone “You might make me regret takin’ you out tonight” he chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile
“You know you love me” I jokingly retorted, scooping part of my ice cream with my tongue, and relaxing against the bench.
It’s very rare to get to relax like this. Not only am I a fully-fledged college student, but also one of Alexander’s goons. The weekends are merely just ‘weekdays: the sequel’, but add forbidden literature and alcohol to that equation.
I look back up to Thomas, seeing his disgusted face. “Wait.. are you actually against mint chocolate chip ice cream?” I cocked an eyebrow towards him
He shrugged before chuckling “I recall telling you of my unfortunate arguments while visiting England..”
“..so what does mint chocolate chip ice cream have to do with your political upheavals in a foreign country?”
He smirked in an ‘all knowing’ manner. “Well, Darlin, if you did your research—“
“—You’ve got to be kidding me—“I start to wonder why I even asked
“—you’d learn that the monstrosity in your ice cream cone, mint chocolate chip, originated in England.” He completed his statement with triumph “Ever since my disagreements in England, I swore to despise such a concoction until the day I die.”
I looked at him like he was crazy. “I can’t believe you did your research on English creations. You’re so dramatic sometimes” I respond
“Hey, I wouldn’t be a Jefferson if I wasn’t.” He stared back to his cone, the mesmerizing ice cream almost reflecting himself back at him.
We shared silence for a moment. Words were unnecessary when we were together.
“I suppose..” Jefferson started “...I might be able to tolerate mint chocolate chip ice cream, but only for you, though.” He turned towards my direction
My eyes soon met his. “Well, I’m honored to be your exemption, Jefferson.” I smile with triumph, recognizing my effect on him.
He swiftly takes my hand, his skin feels burning compared to mine. Our eyes remain connected as he dips his head down to kiss the back of my hand. I attempt to hide the fact that my heart stopped beating for a moment, but the breath hitching in my throat wouldn’t help me at all.
“Let’s drop the formalities, Darlin, you can call me Thomas now.” My hand remained between his. I try my best to keep my hand still, wanting to marinate in this moment forever.
A new feeling courses through my body. Something unfamiliar. Perhaps it’s the charm of a Southern Gentleman. Maybe the feeling of being treated right for the first time, something I’ve never experienced from anyone.
What have I ever done to deserve this chivalrous kindness?
‘What a gentleman’ I repeat to myself in my mind. What makes him so different from the others?
From a simple kiss, I suddenly crave more.
More than the unresolved sexual tension between Lafayette and I.
More than I was ever granted the opportunity to.
Maybe ‘more’ is what I deserve.
My mind bleeds with the thought of Lafayette, but Thomas seems like he has so much more to offer. What if I do deserve to be happy? I may not have earned it, but who gets to declare my right to happiness? I was once happy with Lafayette, but the times have changed
He’s just not him. He’s just not Thomas.
---
But no matter how much I enjoyed spending time with Jefferson himself, I was always the first one to leave. I had to.
I remember the way his smile would fall at the sound of Lafayette’s car horn.
The way his jaw tenses whenever my phone vibrates across the table
Whenever Lafayette came to pick me up, I also can’t help but feel a part of my soul crack within me.
“I’ll see you this weekend?” He kisses the back of my hand once more in an attempt to savor this moment, continuing to maintain eye contact.
“I’ll try, Thomas. Not sure if I’m busy.” I sigh with fatigue. “But I’ll let you know.”
“Alright. Get home safe, darlin’” I hear him stand from the park bench as I wander to Lafayette’s car, his eyes following my figure.
I hop into Lafayette’s car before taking one last glance in Thomas’s direction, watching as his figure begins to walk in the opposite direction that our car was heading.
“Ahh, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re cheating on me” his sarcastic tone wouldn’t pierce deep enough.
I speak without thinking. “I do recall you claiming that you and I were never a couple, remember Laf?” My change in demeanor was certain to shut him up. And he did.
He’s just not him. He’s just not Thomas.
I remained turned away from Lafayette as we drove through the city. The memories built between Lafayette and I constantly falls like a house of cards, but I prefer to avoid the subject.
Lafayette felt otherwise, yet respected my choice.
He was the first to speak.
“Alexander needs me for a transport this weekend.” He stated, “I’m not sure when I’ll get back, so it’s very important that you get back from whatever plans you have before your curfew.” He takes a glance over to me and briefly meets my eyes
“Don’t test the waters, Y/N.”
Ah yes, the monthly literature transportation of Alexander’s gang.
The Notorious Sons of Liberty.
A popular group roaming the streets of New York. But instead ironically of selling drugs or performing homicide, they produce and sell illegal, banned literature and disperse them to the highest bidders.
How else do you think I pay for college?
Although gang violence isn’t really their thing, that doesn’t mean they’re not in possession of such weaponry and devices. I’ve never seen anyone take literature as seriously as they do.
They’re also known for their bold publicity stunts, which are indeed fun to watch from a nearby coffee shop. Watching Alexander, Lafayette, and some other friends, John and Herc, run from the authorities on a Sunday afternoon, accidentally laughing at the sight of John tripping over his own feet, Lafayette mouthing ‘help us out’ in my direction. Very entertaining.
On the contrary, their security on me has become tighter and tighter. I know they worry for the gang’s reputation over my safety, but it feels nice to imagine having a battalion of book-worm gang members watching over you.
“I know, I know. You guys can stop treating me like a kid” I attempt to contain a giggle to portray my seriousness.
He takes a glance at me before returning his attention to the road. “You cannot say that until you have another way home other than me.” He sighed rather loudly
“Be careful, or I might do just that, Lafayette.”
---
I sipped on wine and ate cheese at Thomas’s place without a care in the world on a Saturday night. Of course, I had to accept Thomas’s offer, I never knew how to say no to him.
Jefferson has sure been taking his sweet time to put a title on us. Now, I’m no philosopher when it comes to dating, but Ice cream at the park, fancy dinners, and wine and cheese sure sound romantic.
My night was going well. All until the 7:30 alarm on my phone rang, and before I knew it, everything began to go downhill
[events of chapter 1]
And next thing I knew, the cold New York air slapped my face, following the harsh slam of the apartment door.
As my adrenaline began to settle down, panic rushed through my body.
Fuck. At this rate, I won’t be home until after my curfew. Although my immediate instinct was to sprint my way home, those thoughts were quickly followed by the idea of passing out within five minutes. My apartment isn’t too far, but being fueled by wine and cheese doesn’t sound like the best idea.
“Don’t test the waters, Y/N” echoed throughout my head.
I begin to walk down the street before whipping out my phone to contact an Uber.
The small talk produced between my driver and I worked a bit to calm myself down, but that would all change the moment I walked through my apartment door.
Once I turn back around from locking the door, I’m met with exactly what I didn’t want to see at this very moment.
Lafayette stood staring at me, his lips pursed with anxiousness, recognizing my significantly late arrival.
Hercules, another good friend I’ve met through the sons of liberty, stood beside Lafayette. His mouth hung open in shock as he also recognized my mistake.
John, the group’s smallest yet mightiest, leaned against the wall, perhaps planning my fate right in front of me
And none other than Alexander Hamilton himself, sipping scotch on my couch, similarly to how I was not too long ago at Thomas’s place. The glare on his face quickly reminded me that I was in big trouble.
“Y/N, I thought I told you—“ Lafayette began but was quickly interrupted
“You’re late.” He swirled his drink before standing up. The clock ticked, and the hour hand notably passed the 8:30 symbol. I was not getting out of this one.
Although I feared for the following moments, I attempted to contain my emotions within myself. I kept my straight face for the time being. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.
“I’m well aware.” That came out of my mouth a little too harsh for my liking
“May I remind you that being out past your curfew could severely damage our image.”
I saw John look over to Alex from the corner of my eye. The air became thinner if that were even possible, and I refused to meet his eyes.
“And I do recall reminding you of your consequences.” He walked towards me and I felt my heart froze. “Having you out so late could raise some suspicions among our competitors, L/N.”
I couldn’t find the right words and resort to nodding instead
“I always fucking told you—“ he harshly slammed his drink onto the table beside him “—not to test the waters—”
“—I-I know—“
“So why the fuck are you stumbling in here past your curfew?”
At this very moment, I wondered if I had pulled the last straw.
I couldn’t speak. God forbid I spat out the wrong words. Contained within my thoughts, I didn’t acknowledge Alexander closing the distance between us.
“Ow!--” I watched as Alex shoved me to the wall, the moment playing in slow motion in my head.
Lafayette’s throat grew dry “Hey, Alex, Calm dow-”
He was interrupted by the sound of Alexander harshly slapping me across the face. My hands quickly went to soothe what felt like fire burning my cheek.
“We do so much for you, Y/N.” Alex growled
The sharp pain in my side grew, almost echoing throughout my body. I could feel my body giving up on itself. I mean, this wouldn’t be the first time Alex has acted like this.
Occasionally, Alex would stop by Lafayette and I’s apartment just to ensure I was home before my curfew, and he wasn’t the most forgiving.
--He owns an apartment key and has every single one of his gang member’s location tracked on his phone. Sometimes I wondered what was so special about us to have to keep all of us in check 24/7--
One time Hercules and I went shopping a little too late after sunset, part of me felt like a reckless teenager, probably because I was. I still remember Alexander’s face when I entered my own apartment, he looks identical every time.
In an attempt to shelter me, my body curled into itself against the wall. I shrunk to the floor, feeling his shadow intensely stand above me.
“Arghh!—“ the sound spilled out of me when I felt Alexander’s shin connect with my rib cage.
My lungs felt punctured under the pressure.
My arms felt like they could give out any second.
Part of me had wished I’d stay at Thomas’s place tonight, even if it meant telling him the truth.
What a predicament I’ve gotten myself into.
I looked up, wondering if my torment was over until I was met with a —Crack— Alexander’s knee encountered my face.
It was only a moment before I could hear the shuffling of the others’ shoes. I prayed they were coming to help me out.
Alexander lifted his glass of alcohol, previously forgotten, and hauled it towards me
Crash!
The piercing shards of glass combining with the stinging alcohol were the last thing I needed on a Saturday night. I didn’t notice the tears falling from my eyes until now, and the way my heart felt like it was just on a rollercoaster.
I kept my head low, watching blood drip down my face and onto the floor below me. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one to notice.
“Alex! What the fuck?!” I heard Laurens yell
“Are you trying to kill her?!?” I recognized Lafayette’s scream
Before Alex was able to make another blow, Lauren and Lafayette were quick to hold him back, attempting to calm him down.
Hercules swiftly knelt beside me, the guilt was obvious in his gaze. I hated the pity in each of their glances towards me. He attempted to wipe away the blood from my forehead with a paper towel.
Alexander fought back against the two, trying his best to prove his point. There’s the Hamilton we all know, unwilling to stand down no matter the cost.
Hercules turned back to me, his words were ready to leave his mouth from the moment we reconnected eyes.
“Y/N..” He pulled me up and shoved me out of my apartment door. “..Run.” I almost stumbled into a nearby pole, but I began running, if running in my condition was possible, back to Thomas’s place.
—-
[events of chapter 1]
The next thing I knew, I woke up in Thomas’s bed beside him. I took a moment to soak in the feeling of his satin sheets. Part of me can’t recall the events before I passed out in front of Thomas’s apartment, or maybe my mind refuses to remember them.
The sun hasn’t risen yet.
I turn to my side and reach for my phone, wincing from the pressure applied to my rib cage.
The bright light of my phone hitting my eyes felt like I was transported to another dimension.
54 notifications:
12 calls from Lafayette 🥐
24 texts from Lafayette 🥐
1 text from Alexander 💡
3 calls from Mariah 💋
14 texts from Mariah 💋
“oh fuck..” I sigh, wondering how things will play out.
Out of curiosity, I open the message from Alexander. Perhaps it’s an apology? Maybe a reminder?
Alexander 💡: I know where you are, Y/N. Don’t drag your friend into this. Because I can.
Where I am? I ask myself
My heart dropped, remembering that Alexander tracks my location 24/7. He knows where I am at this very second.
By escaping to Thomas’s apartment, I’ve just dragged him into this mess I’ve made. If my worlds collide, it would all be because I ran to this exact apartment.
Panic once again rushed through my body.
I need to get out of here. I need to leave.
I slip out from under the sheets and grab my belongings. Unprepared for what’s to come, I steal one of Thomas’s jackets from his cluttered desk chair. I’ll give it back eventually, I thought to myself.
After I put on my shoes I take one last glance toward Thomas.
He seems so peaceful when he’s asleep, tangled in his blanket, not to mention his name-brand Mac and cheese pajama pants.
I’m sorry if I drag you into this, Thomas, you just wouldn’t understand.
Taglist <3: @kenmacrumbs @strayblades @laic2299 @ohsoverykeri
#alexander hamilton#hamilton#hamilton fanfic#hamiltonau#thomas jefferson#thomas jefferson fanfic#james madison#Hercules Mulligan#John Laurens#marquis de Lafayette#lafayette x reader#flirty!lafayette#gang member!alexanderhamilton#gangAU#modern au#HAMILTRASH#in the night#gangmember!lafayette#gangmember!herculesmulligan#gangmember!johnlaurens#the way this chapter took me two months golly#daveed diggs#thomas jefferson x reader#hercules mulligan#hamiltrash#lafayette#incorrect hamilton quotes
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
CHAPTER TWO
“the cell buddies reunit”
CHAPTER ONE
SERIES MASTERLIST
MY MASTERLIST
who is max belinsky?
concept boards for the new characters
summary: Max Belinsky and JJ Maybank are the two troublemakers of Outer Banks. Going to parties, getting into trouble, having an attitude and being the two people you don’t mess with are the perfect ways to describe them. What would happen when the two people who seem to have trouble follow them around meet? One thing is fore sure, they didn’t expect this outcome.
“Bitch! Wake the fuck up!” That’s the first thing Max heard when her mind woke up on that Sunday morning. She opened her sleepy eyes to see her blonde best friend, Sam, on the side of the bed looking at her with a big smile.
Sam Lester, Max’s parter in crime. The one who was always up for a good party, being the blonde girl every boy was after, looking like the most innocent girl but being the total opposite, and dancing all night. She had problems with her attitude, just like Max, that’s how they became friends: after defending a Pogue from a Kook in primary school. Since then, they were inseparable, being each other’s number on and other half.
“How the hell did you get into my house?” Max asked letting her elbows hold her head up.
“Your brother let me in.” She said shrugging her shoulders but Max looked at her confused.
“But Fred is supposed to be at work..”
“Oh, no, no. Cody let me in.”
“Damn it, he’s not supposed to open the door when someone knocks.” Max got quickly up from bed to talk to his little brother but when she noticed Sam was giving her a innocent smile, she stopped and lifted her eyebrow. “What did you do?”
“I may have yelled ‘Dude let me in’ multiple times when you didn’t answer your phone. I think he got annoyed and that’s why he let me in, but let’s just say it was because he recognised me and not because my voice is annoying.”
“Sam, you have to stop yelling to come into my house.” Max said and started to changer her pijama into some comfortable clothes. “One day my parents are going to be here and I don’t think they would like to be woken up by your screams.” She finished changing and then walked out of her room to look for her little brother.
“It’s not my fault that you’re a super heavy sleeper and you don’t hear anything!” Sam said while following her. “And talking about your parents, do you know when are they coming home?”
Max let out a little sigh. She didn’t like to talk about her parents, specially since she hadn’t seen them in person in a long time. “We spoke yesterday, they still don’t know.”
Sam knew about her situation, and how Max felt about it, so she just nodded and carried on following her best friend around the house.
“Cody!” Max yelled. Seconds later, her fourteen year old brother appeared on the living room with messy hair and half closed eyes. “Looking good, dude.” She said trying to hold on a laugher after seeing her little brother’s conditions.
“Well, if your best friend hadn’t come so early I would’ve been able to sleep fifteen more minutes.” He said annoyed and Sam walked to where he was with a smile on her face.
“Oh c’mon, are you mad at me for not being able to sleep fifteen more minutes?”
“Fifteen minutes are fifteen minutes!”
“What is it with this family and their love for sleeping!” Sam said shaking her head.
“We appreciate the little things in life.” Max said and then walked closer to her brother. “Fred told me that he’s going to be spend the night at the hotel and-”
“Oh, wait, that means you’re cooking tonight? I can’t have pasta again or I’ll die!”
“Don’t be so dramatic! And maybe you can do your own cooking from now on if you don’t like my lovely meals.” Sam and Cody gave each other looks and Max opened her mouth offended. “Fine, I won’t do my famous sauce anymore. Your loss. But that’s not why I called you... Fred told me that he’s going to come back tomorrow morning because some old rich people are at the hotel and his boss wants him there all day.”
“So that means I have to make lunch today?” Cody said like it was not the first time it happened. Because it wasn’t.
Three siblings living in the same house trying to take care of each other it’s harder than it looks. Fred Belinsky, being the older child, he was the responsable one. Took over the ‘father’ place since he had no other option. Found the opportunity to get a job at one of the most popular hotels in Outer Banks. Being there was a huge money maker, but, that meant more hours and more work. Max, the middle child, being just a teenager, was able to found a part-time job at a local clothes store called ‘Ocean Drive’. Wasn’t much, but it was enough to help the family. And last but not least, Cody, the messy and opinionated one. He had always something to say and he didn’t mind being honest, the type to say and then think. He cleaned pools now and then, but being the youngest and having no experience at all, he couldn’t help in anything else than on the house.
“So, what happend last night?” Sam asked Max once they were out the house, walking towards the ‘Ocean Drive’.
“Well, I have to do 24 hours of community service. Nothing serious.” Max shrugged her shoulders. Deputy Miller’s words came into her mind and she looked down.
“I feel so bad! I wish a could help you! Fuck it, I’ll be there. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m pretty sure Officer Johnson is going to be there watching, you won’t be able to help me.”
“I don’t give a shit about Johnson, he’s an asshole.” Sam shrugged her shoulders and Max nodded, letting out a little laugh.
“Don’t feel bad, I won’t be alone anyway.”
“What?” Sam furrowed her eyebrow confused.
“I haven’t told you. I’m going to do it with the one and only JJ Maybank.”
“Whaaaaat?” Sam asked surprised. “Yeah! I heard he got into some trouble last night at a party.” She stopped to think and then added after letting out a sigh. “Kooks, isn’t it?” Max nodded.
“Annoying Kooks. What else?”
“So... JJ Maybank, huh?” She shook her head. “I don’t really understand what the girls see on him? He’s cool and all, but what else?”
Max didn’t answer immediately. There was something intriguing about him, she wanted to know more. Yes, they would often cross each other on parties, but never actually talked or looked at each other more than when people talked about what one of them did. Max never expected to feel this way about him. So she just shrugged her shoulders and carried on walking to the her job.
“Looking like a whole damn meal.” Sam said after Max opened the door and she saw her with her party outfit.
Max let out a little laugh and then turned around to see her brother on the couch reading some old comic. “Don’t forget, dinner is in the fridge, don’t open-”
“Don’t open the door to strangers, I know, Max. It’s not my first time being alone in the house.” Cody said without taking his eyes away from the comic.
Max nodded and then closed the door behind her. The night was beautiful and the sky was full of stars, the wind was not cold which made the walking to beach more enjoyable. Max and Sam were talking about the plans for the week but then they were cut off by some Kooks walking pass them.
“Looking good for some Pogues.” A blonde guy said and the others laughed.
“Looking bad for someone with money.” Max said quickly.
Sam let out a loud laugh and one of the guys locked eyes with her. “Why don’t you guys forget about that lame party your friends are throwing and come join us?”
Max and Sam locked eyes with each other and then a loud laugh came out of their mouths simultaneously.
“Something funny?” The same guy asked.
“Yeah, it’s hilarious that you guys think that you’re on our league!” Max said while laughing before turning around and continue walking towards the beach, leaving the Kooks behind.
“Oh, I really needed that tonight.” Sam said and Max nodded with a smile. “Making fun of Kooks always makes me feel better.”
“You know what else makes me feel better?” Max said once the music that was coming from the beach started to get louder. “Beer!”
After grabbing some bottles, they decided to sit down on the side of the beach and enjoy the feeling of the alcohol hitting their bodies. The party was full of people dancing, drunk teenagers, locals trying to hit on tourons, and Pogues having the best time of their lives while playing some beer pong. But Max wasn’t paying attention to any of that, she was too focused on the conversation she was having with her best friends, until some arms went around her neck giving her a hug from behind.
“Here’s my cell buddy!” Max turned her head to see JJ next to her with a cup of beer on his hand.
“Having fun JJ?” Max said with a little smile after seeing JJ drank his entire drink in one big sip.
“I am now that you’re here, princess.” Max quickly shook her head and grabbed JJ’s arm, pulling it away from her shoulders.
“Don’t call me princess.”
“But I like that nickname for you, baby!” Max rolled her eyes and got up from where she was. “Don’t get mad!” She was about to walk away but then JJ grabbed her hand, making her take a brisk step back that almost made her fall into the sand. Max annoyed, turned around to see her hand and JJ’s. She then looked up to lock eyes with him but he was frozen, his eyes were wide open at the realisation to what he just did, and the regret. Max lifted and eyebrow once JJ looked up and he quickly let go of her hand. “Sorry dude!”
“Uh, I don’t know what the fuck was that..” Sam waved her hand between Max and JJ. “But I’m Sam, nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too, Sam. I’m JJ, Max’s cell buddy.” JJ winked at Max, she gave him an obvious fake smile and then proceeded to take a big sip of her beer.
“There you are dude!” A guy said walking towards JJ. He then was followed by a another guy, and a familiar girl. Max immediately recognised Kie Carrera, the only rich kid Max didn’t hate. Their parents were good friends when they were kids, they would often hang out and have fun together. But slowly drifted apart, but the fun memories were still there and if they crossed each other they wouldn’t miss the opportunity to hug each other and remember the old times.
“Max!” Kie said after locking eyes with Max. She ran towards her and wrapped her arms around her back, making it into a tight hug. “I haven’t seen you since summer started, what have you been up to?”
“Getting intro trouble, that’s for sure!” JJ said behind her. Kie rolled her eyes at her drunk friend and then came back to Max.
“He’s not wrong.” Max said shrugging her shoulder and Kie just let out a little laugh before turning to Sam, who walked up to them.
Sam let out a little nervous smile after locking eyes with Kie. “I’m Sam.”
Max was going back and forth between her two friends. She had never seen her best friend like this, she was giving nervous laughter at Kie’s words and then playing with her fingers on and on. But that thought was cut off when some people started to scream in excitement at some popular song that just started to play.
“You know what I missed the most about our adventures when we were kids?” Max asked turning to her friends. Kie furrowed her eyebrows waiting for an answer. “Our dances on top the the kitchen table.” A smile appeared on Kie’s face. Sam just lifted her arms into the air excited and walked to the group of people dancing, followed by her two friends.
“I hope our dances now are not like our dances back then.” Kie said jokingly and Max let out a little laugh, before letting the music guide her body.
Max didn’t knew how many songs she danced with the girls. Her two hands weren’t enough if she wanted to count them. She looked down at her cup and realized that it was empty, so she turned to her friends and pointed at the cup, they both nodded understanding and Max was on her way to the Kegger.
Once her cup was refilled, a slight pain appeared on her feet so she decided to sit down on the sand and enjoy the view of Sam and Kie dancing like crazy to the song that was playing. She let out a little laugh when Sam threw her hands into the air and started to wave them, she never failed to make Max laugh. That happy feeling she had inside went away when she looked around the people dancing and saw the Kook from before. She rolled her eyes annoyed and then continued drinking the beer, she was starting to enjoy the music but when the noise of people moving around next to her made her look up and see some people making a circle around some guys.
She got up and quickly walked towards Sam, who was now looking at the boys they were circling around.
“What happend?” Max asked Sam once she was next to her, but she just shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.
Max made her way closer to see what was going on, and when she saw who was the one making all this fuss, she furrowed her eyebrows confused.
“Take it back.” JJ said at the blonde Kook angrily.
The Kook let out a loud laugh and then looked around, he then stopped once he locked eyes with Max. He let out a little arrogant smile and then went back to JJ. “There she is.”
Max looked around confused. “Huh?”
“Why would I take it back? It’s the truth.” He said proudly. Max noticed that what the guy was talking about made JJ even more angry. “I would love to take her home with me tonight.”
“Excuse you?” Max quickly said while walking closer to him. “What did you just say?”
“Don’t deny it baby! You would love to.”
“I would rather drown than go home with you, dickhead.”
“You heard the lady, now, back off dude.” JJ said. But the Kook let out a little smile and then continued to ignore JJ, by turning to Max and walking closer to her. Max noticed that JJ was ready to grab the guy by the neck of his shirt to pull him back, but Max was faster, throwing the drink she had on her hand to the Kook.
Without hesitating, Max grabbed JJ’s hand and started to ran away knowing that the Kooks would go after them both.
“You bitch!” The kook yelled and when Max looked back at them, she noticed that him and his group were running after them. But luckily for JJ and Max, they were both pretty good at running away from people.
“Holy shit!” JJ yelled after letting out a big laugh.
“Just keep running you idiot!” Max was still grabbing JJ’s while running, she was the one pulling him making sure he was behind her.
“Where the fuck are you taking me?” Max turned around at a dark corner on the street trying to lose the Kooks. “Are you going to kill me?!” JJ said after looking at his surroundings.
“If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t be taking you away from those Kooks!” Max yelled. She then let out a little smile when she saw her house once she stepped out of the dark alley.
She quickly opened the front door after letting go of JJ’s hand and she pushed him inside.
“Do you see them?” JJ asked when Max stared to look out the window.
“I don’t, but I don’t think they saw us getting inside.” Max let out a big relief breath and then let her back rest on the wall.
“Nice house.” JJ said while looking around. “Are you parents home?” JJ turned to Max and she shook her head. “Wow, you bring me home when your parents aren’t here? Max... buy a boy dinner first.”
She let out a little laugh and then started to walk to the kitchen. “In your dreams, Maybank. Besides, my little brother is here.”
“Your brother?” JJ asked, and like a calling spell, Cody walked into the kitchen.
“You bring a guy home when Fred isn’t? Seriously Max?” Cody said lifting an eyebrow.
“That’s what I said little dude!” JJ said and Cody turned to him.
“JJ Maybank?” Cody asked and then a little smile appeared on his face. “You’re like the best surfer in Outer Banks!”
“Well, I don’t like to brag, but I kinda am.” JJ nodded proudly and Max rolled her eyes.
“Don’t like to brag, huh?” Max asked but the boys ignored her once they started to talk about surfing. She stood there watching the boys talk excitedly about boards and the best waved to surf on. “I don’t like this.” Max shook her head and they finally turned to her.
“What? I can’t be friends with your little brother?”
“You’re a bad influence!” Max pointed at JJ and he took his hand to his chest pretending to be offended.
“Oh, because you’re a great influence.” Cody said sarcastically. JJ turned to him with a proud smile and then nodded.
“Nice, bro.” JJ handed his hand to Cody and they did a handshake like they been friends since birth.
“Unbelievable!” Max threw her hands into the air annoyed and the proceeded to pour herself a drink of water. “Cody, it’s late, go to your room!”
“Ok, then, I’ll be listening to music so you two don’t have to worry about me.” He said before walking away. Max opened her mouth surpised and embarrassed but JJ just let out a little laugh.
“Cody!” She felt her cheeks burn so she took a long sip to hide it. “Sorry for that.”
“Don’t be, he’s a smart kid, clearly he noticed this obvious tension between us two and he mentioned it. He’s doing my job.” JJ walked closer to Max and took her glass of water out of her hands. She punched the side of his upper arm and that JJ threw a little bit of water out of his mouth. “Ouch!”
“You totally deserved that.” Max shrugged her shoulder and then walked to the living room, to look out the window to see if the Kooks were still looking for them. JJ’s words “Take it back.” came into the mind once she sat down on the floor and the curiosity hit her body.
“Are they around?” JJ asked once he sat down infront of her, infront of the door.
“No.” She said and then closed the curtain. “Why did you got so angry when that guy said something about me?” She asked when silence surrounded them.
He looked down while thinking the answer. JJ was questioning if he should say the truth or not, but nothing else was coming to his mind, so he decided to tell the real reason. “I don’t like when Kooks say something like that about my friends.”
“Oh, we’re friends now?” Max said with a little smile.
“Yeah, I mean, you brought me to your home when your parents aren’t here, after a party, at least we have to be friends right?” JJ said with a little smirk.
“Oh, yeah, because not being friends with a girl stopped you before huh?”
“Is that how you see me? That hurts!” JJ pretended that his heart hurted making his back fall on the floor. Max rolled his eyes but then a little laugh came out of her mouth. “Hey! I made you laugh, that’s a win for me!”
“With all jokes aside..” Max grabbed JJ’s arm to pull him up and lock eyes with him. “Thank you for having my back, but you don’t have to fight someone for me, I can handle myself.”
“I know, but that’s what friends do.” JJ shrugged his shoulders.
Max let out a little smile while looking at JJ. She noticed those blue eyes he had and that they looked more beautiful under the moon light that was coming through the window. She quickly looked away when she realized that she was staring and went back to looking through the window.
“I don’t think they’re looking for us anymore, you can go if you want.” Max got up and JJ did the same.
“Why are you kicking me out so soon, princess? But I’m going to miss you!”
“Don’t call me princess! Besides, we have community service tomorrow, remember?”
“Ah yes, i’m going to sleep more peacefully now.” JJ let out a relief breath and Max shook her head.
“Bye bye, Maybank...” She said after opening the door and moving to the side so he could walk outside.
“Bye bye, Belinsky.” He repeated her tone and then left the house, after playfully blowing a kiss to Max and leaving the girl with a little smile on her face.
CHAPTER THREE
here’s part two! I would love to know what you guys think of the series so far! :)
TAGLIST
@iamaunicorn4704 @onceinagenerationrage @lasnaro @k-k0129 @x-lulu @oopsiedoopsie23 @baby-pogue @roamingmarauder @ponyboys-sunsets @agirlwholovescoffee
let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
#rudy pankow x reader#rudy pankow imagine#rudy pankow#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#jj#jj maybank#jj outer banks#jj imagine#jj x reader#obx imagine#obx fanfiction#jj obx#obx netflix#obx#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks netflix#outer banks imagine#outer banks
154 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jij Verliest - Chapter Five: Clip 2
master list previous
...
Zondag 18:53
With hurried goodbyes to the people spamming ‘bye!’ in the chat, Robbe ended his surprise Sunday afternoon stream and immediately slumped against his desk.
During the semester, Robbe didn’t stream on Sundays. He preferred to spend the time studying with Yasmina or simply doing homework. His plan was to keep the same schedule for the summer, simply to keep things consistent, and save his Sundays for skating with his friends or hanging out with Sander. But the beach house trip was going to prevent him from streaming for three days. Once he got back, Robbe knew that he would need to get back on a consistent schedule.
Today’s stream was unplanned and a surprise, but it had been one of the best streams that he had in weeks.
Normally, Robbe would’ve only streamed for three hours. It was what his body was used to and Robbe was rigorous about keeping his streams uniform. Occasionally, he would extend the stream or shorten it in thirty minute intervals. But, normally, he couldn’t extend the stream by more than an hour. Until today. He had just ended the stream a few minutes shy of five hours.
As soon as he started the stream, Robbe had felt rejuvenated. His good mood was helped by Sander’s “good luck <3” text when Robbe informed him that he would be disappearing for a few hours. But, in the midst of studying for exams and his stressed-out streams, he had missed doing this. He had missed streaming simply because he could and hanging out with his viewers, who he saw as his friends. It was fun and exhilarating and he had missed it all.
Plus, the fact that Sander was probably watching him sent a thrill up his spine. It made him more excited than he would ever admit to any of his friends. But the extended time in his chair had stiffened his legs and his joints. Even though Robbe had taken multiple five-minute breaks, he was still tense.
As Robbe stood, stretching his body as far as he could, his phone buzzed on the desk and drew his attention.
Sander: Amazing stream, Mr. Streamer. Even if I don’t know a thing about Fortnite. Feeling stiff?
Robbe chuckled, picking up his phone as he moved out of his room.
Robbe: Yeah, I’m walking around the apartment. Might not sit down for another 30 min. Did you get any drawings done?
It didn’t take long to respond.
Sander: Of course, I’m still working on your concentrated face though. Wanna see?
As Robbe sent him the affirmative, he headed out of his bedroom. Across the hall, Zoë’s bedroom door was slightly open and he glanced inside to find her sleeping. Zoë was curled up on her bed, wrapped in her gray blanket, with her hair tied back. Her laptop was perched on the edge of the bed, playing a show.
As Robbe closed his bedroom door behind him, his stomach gave an angry growl, reminding him he had waited too long. Robbe quickly moved in the direction of the kitchen, where he could hear voices. Rounding the corner, he spotted Milan at the kitchen table with Senne. Both of them were drinking what looked like a cup of hot cocoa. As Robbe stepped inside, Milan cut Senne off mid-sentence to ask, “How was your stream?”
Robbe blinked, confused. “It was fine.” Senne turned to him, smiling nervously, as Robbe headed to the fridge to pull out the leftovers from earlier. “I’m just getting some food. It should only take a few minutes. Then, the two of you can go back to your top-secret talk that I’m not supposed to hear.”
“Oooooo,” Milan said, grinning wickedly. “Is someone jealous that other people go to me with top-secret information?”
Robbe rolled his eyes and flipped Milan off for good measure.
“No, no, it’s not that,” Senne said, letting out a sigh. Robbe grabbed one of the plates from the cabinets as he looked over at Senne. Despite being so sure of himself, Senne looked unbelievably nervous—like he was about to jump out of his skin. In all honesty, Robbe wasn’t prepared to see it. “We were just talking about the fact that I’m going to meet your mama on Thursday.” Robbe nodded as he piled the cold spaghetti onto his plate. “Do you have any advice?”
Robbe nodded again, placing the plate into the microwave. Once he started it, Robbe turned back to Senne and Milan, who were waiting on him. “There’s absolutely nothing you need to worry about, Senne,” Robbe said. “Mama is physically incapable of hating anyone. Even my dad and Thomas. As long as you love and take care of Zoë—which you do—she’s going to love you.”
“There’s always a first,” Senne said.
“If there was a first time, it would’ve been Thomas,” Robbe deadpanned.
“Agreed,” Milan said. He reached across the table to take Senne’s hand in his own. “She’s going to love you, Senne. How can she not?” The microwave let out a beep. Robbe moved to pull his steaming pasta out. He blew away the steam as he crossed the kitchen, taking up one of the spare chairs. Robbe extended his legs out beneath the table, stretching them until they popped. “You love her daughter and that’s all any mother would want. Especially Marie.”
Robbe nodded. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Okay,” Senne said, turning to him. “I’m trusting you.” Robbe chuckled, taking a bite of his pasta. “How did your exams go?” Senne asked. Robbe glanced over at Senne, who had turned in his chair. “I didn’t see you at the party Friday night.”
“Are you still going to college parties?” Robbe asked.
“Only when my girlfriend is.”
“Oh, did someone spend the night with his mystery man that we don’t know anything about?” Milan asked, raising his mug to his mouth. Robbe rolled his eyes as Milan suggestively waved his eyebrows. Beside him, Senne took a sip of his hot cocoa. He tried his best to seem indifferent, but Robbe could still spot the suggestive look on Senne’s features. “Come on, Robbe. It’s a safe space. If we talk about it, I’m sure Senne won’t mind.”
Robbe was certain he couldn’t roll his eyes harder. “Sometimes, I wonder why you’re so interested in everyone’s love life,” Robbe said. Senne snorted. Thankfully, he wasn’t holding his cocoa anymore. Senne covered his face with his hand as Milan sent him an accusatory stare. “But yes, I did stay with him. We went to his apartment, he cooked, and we stayed in his bedroom all night, playing video games.”
“Good,” Milan said, grinning. “You seem happy with him.”
“I am,” Robbe said, nodding. He took another bite of spaghetti before letting out a sigh. Milan raised an eyebrow and Senne glanced over at him. Despite the growling in his stomach, Robbe dropped his fork on his plate and leaned back. “I just wish Thomas would leave me alone.”
“Thomas?” Milan asked, raising his eyebrows.
Senne glanced at Robbe, asking, “Your ex?”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Robbe said. “After my exam on Friday, as I headed out to meet ‘my mystery man,’ Thomas came up to me.” Robbe shook his head, letting out a sigh. “He gave me the watch back and told me that he wanted to get back together with me.” Milan’s eyes widened. “I was so angry that I couldn’t respond to him, but—uhh… the guy I’m seeing interrupted him and Thomas left soon after that.”
“Do you want to get back together with him? With Thomas?” Senne asked.
Before Senne finished the question, Robbe was shaking his head. “No,” Robbe said. “I don’t.”
“If you don’t want to get back together with him, you need to tell that to Thomas face-to-face, Robbe,” Senne said. He crossed his arms over his chest as Milan took a sip of his cocoa. “He deserves to hear it from you in person. If he can’t understand, that’s on him.”
“I know,” Robbe said, slumping back in his chair. “I’m just worried that he’s going to try and talk me into getting back together with him. Again.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Senne asked, standing up from his chair. “I don’t mind.” He moved to the coffee maker. As the machine whirred to life, he moved around, starting to make another cup of hot cocoa. Once the machine started brewing, Senne added, “I’ve always been pretty good at scaring people away. Plus my parents will pay for pretty good lawyers.”
Robbe chuckled, shaking his head. “No, but I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll probably end up asking Jens or Moyo to come with me. I just don’t want to be worried about my ex showing up at the apartment for the third or fourth time.” As Robbe picked up his fork, his phone dinged in his pocket.
“You could always go to the police,” Senne said.
Milan nodded. “He’s right, Robbe.”
“Yeah,” Robbe said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I just don’t want to have to deal with it. But if it gets too much and he keeps showing up, I promise that I will report him to the police.” Milan nodded and, from his spot at the coffee machine, Senne made an affirmative noise.
“It’ll be okay, Robbe,” Milan said.
Robbe nodded his head, turning his attention back to his phone.
Sander: Sorry for the delay. Noor came into my room asking about dinner. Here are all my sketches.
Below his texts, a picture loaded in of a sheet of paper—or rather many sheets of paper—and Robbe had to stop himself from literally dropping his mouth open. If these were simply “sketches,” Robbe couldn’t help but wonder what Sander’s masterpieces would look like. In the middle of the page, his own profile was etched in with headphones over his ears. There were a handful of figures that looked like they could’ve been Pokémon, but Robbe didn’t recognize them.
Robbe was so focused on absorbing each and every detail that he didn’t notice Senne walk up behind him. He peered over Robbe’s shoulder, holding tightly to the cup of cocoa with one hand. His presence behind Robbe had startled him, but Senne’s gaze was simply on his phone. As Robbe glanced up at him, Senne smiled down at the phone and gave him a knowing look.
If Senne recognized Sander’s sketches, he didn’t say anything. In fact, Senne just returned to the table and struck up a conversation with Milan about work.
...
Zondag 20:34
#wtfock#wtfam#sander driesen#sobbe#robbe ijzermans#rosander#brenna writes#jij verliest fic#wtfock fanfiction#wtfock fanfic#wtf fanfic#twitch streamer robbe#twitch streamer!robbe#tattoo artist!sander#tattoo artist sander
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 2 (aka Nurse Geralt AU)
(ao3: x
Chapter 1 Tumblr Link: x )
Geralt is not someone who is an active social media user. He has never been.
Hell, he wouldn’t even use WhatsApp if he didn’t have to.
He thinks that apps like this make people so accessible, and leaves little privacy, and ironically, despite it’s called “social media” it makes people less social. He has lost count of how many times he has seen a group of friends sitting somewhere and scrolling through some apps on their phone or something instead of talking to each other.
Of course, it depends on one’s use, but from what he can tell, whenever you’re online, people tend to think that you have all the time in the world.
So no, thank you very much. He likes his privacy.
Whenever he says that “Social media is for people who don’t have nothing better and important to do,” Ciri just gives him The Look ™ and says: “Okay, boomer.”
He has no idea what the hell it’s supposed to mean, but he is sure it’s not something good.
Once Ciri had downloaded some dating app on his phone without his permission while he was sleeping his ass off after a very tiring night shift. That little match-maker of a girl.
And not only that, but also she had said: “I texted some of the users for you! The ones I thought you might like. One of them seemed nice, I like her energy. So, anyway, long story short, you have a date this weekend. You can thank me later.”
“Excuse me, you did what?!”
Needless to say, Ciri wasn’t allowed to use the internet for three days after that.
“I just want you to be happy,” on the third day, Ciri had said out of the blue while they were reading I, Robot together —they were both into sci-fi, and reading was a great escape from thinking about all the things going on in life.
“You deserve love. Everyone does. Your whole life is nothing but me and your job, and… You deserve happiness, dad. You deserve love.”
“Come here,” Geralt had said, opening his arms wide for her to embrace him, which Ciri had applied.
“I am happy, pumpkin.”
“You could be happier… If there was someone you loved and dated—”
“Ciri, look. Love is… A beautiful thing.” he started ‘Even though it can be hurtful,’ was left unsaid.
“But love doesn’t necessarily mean the affection between a couple. It doesn’t just mean romantic love. Love can be in many forms, shapes, and different ways. Love of self, of animals, of nature, friends, family… We experience love every day when you think about it. You can find it in everything. Even in a slice of homemade pie that Mrs. April brought us today.”
“I love pie! But dad, I doubt that if a slice of pie can tell you that you look lovely today. A cutie-pie on the other hand—”
“Ciri, have you been even listening to me?”
“…and a pie can’t run their fingers through your hair-”
Geralt sighs, “Why am I even trying?”
“Deep down you know I’m right. Dad… How about you just… give her a chance? For me? Just see how it goes?”
"Is it gonna make you happy if I do that?”
“So happy!”
“And you’re not gonna do something like that ever again.”
“Promise!”
“Not downloading stupid apps on my phone, and not trying to set me up.”
“You got it, Cap!”
Geralt had met with that woman, and they just didn’t click.
True to her word, Ciri never has done something like that again.
***
Geralt is not someone who likes social media.
But there he is, looking at the musician’s posts instead of sleeping—even though he has to get up early as always tomorrow—scrolling through the app, and feeling like a high school girl with a stupid crush.
He reads every little caption the musician had written.
Surprisingly- well, maybe not so surprisingly- his songs aren’t the only thing he posts about.
He posts about random things; sometimes it’s a pretty flower he came across this morning, sometimes it’s a kitten, a book he is currently reading, food recipes, his drawings, things like that.
His account seems like just his personality.
Filled with all the beautiful colors in the word. Filled with joy, and every little thing he shares feels so sincere. Personal.
[I tried that recipe @Brianricci has sent me and it still feels like there are fireworks in my stomach, so here’s a little drawing for you my life-saver pasta-mate.]
That one makes Geralt smile. Reminds him of that day.
***
“I have something for you, Mr. Should Have Been A Model But Became A Nurse For Some Reason. Not that I’m complaining, for the record. The only thing I have complaints about is your hospital’s awful food. So awful that it should be illegal. A sin, even. You’re sinning whenever you guys force people to eat that food. I can only imagine your staff’s weekly confessing: ‘Forgive me father for I’ve sinned.’
‘What’s wrong, immortal one? What did you do?’
‘Oh, father, even bathing myself in holy water can’t cleanse me from my sins! I made my patient eat that awful food, I had to, father! I had to! I had no choice! But I have faith that I can change that one day!’
‘Faith becomes you. Stay with it. Keep fighting the good fight with all thy might.’
God help him this man is so ridiculous.
“Why are you suddenly Anthony Hopkins from The Rite?”
“Eh, just felt like it,” Jaskier shrugs “Your jello is pretty good though, so, good deed point. And your nurses aren’t half bad either, so I heard.”
Jaskier winks at him.
The audacity of that man.
“Anyway! As I was saying, I have something for you—”
“I have something for you, too, Mr. Pankratz,” Geralt says. He has a good guess about what Jaskier has for him.
A drawing of a flower.
He had heard the staff talking about how the pretty patient in room 242 has been giving flower drawings to pretty much everyone while he was walking around.
“Why thank you, you shouldn’t have! You brought some wine for me or something? For the celebration for my third week here? You’re so kind, my good sir.”
“It’s your medicines.”
“…ever the heartbreaker. I take back everything I said. You’re the devil in disguise.”
After Geralt gives him his medicines, Jaskier pulls a scratch book under his pillow and carefully tears a page from it. He gives it to Geralt.
“I thought I was the devil in disguise?” The nurse says as he takes the drawing from him “Are you sure that you should give demons a flower draw—”
Geralt can’t finish his sentence.
Because what he is looking at certainly is not a flower drawing.
It’s a man who holds a syringe in his hand with a kind smile on his face, and the syringe is filled with cute little hearts.
It’s him.
There’s a giant cactus standing behind him for some reason Geralt finds it hard to understand why.
He has seen the other drawings, and they are nothing like this one. This one looks like Jaskier has tried his hardest to make it perfect. Put everything in it. It’s perfect and detailed as if he had drawn it while looking at Geralt. It also seems familiar for some reason.
“—in conclusion, devils are fallen angels, so…” Geralt hears Jaskier talking.
Yet he is too busy to say something as he keeps looking at the drawing in his hands.
“Ooops, did I go too far with the hearts?”
“Hm.”
“Geralt? Say something, please? Oh God, I broke my nurse. They’re sooo gonna sue me. And I don’t think I can afford a good lawyer, I’ll rot in jails, I’m too young to rot in jails, I can’t be someone’s bitch, I’m not even—”
“May I ask why is there a cactus standing behind me?”
“A comment! Phew! Finally! Well, that would be because you’re just like a cactus.”
Geralt raises an eyebrow.
“Better than being a weed, Dandelion.”
Jaskier holds his hand to his chest and gasps, feigning offense.
“Words hurt, Geralt. Words hurt.
I meant it as, like, let’s face it, you’re kinda prickly on the outside sometimes, but soft on the inside? A cactus in the desert.”
Geralt sighs.
“And now you imply that my hospital is a desert. How nice. What’s next?”
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s okay.”
It’s obviously more than okay, but teasing with the young man is fun, and everyone needs some fun in their lives once in a while.
“If you don’t appreciate my drawing just give it back,” Jaskier makes grabby hands as he pouts like a little kid that just dropped his ice cream, “I’m pretty sure it’ll look good on my fridge anyway. No trouble for me.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“I’m not giving this back. Too late, you should’ve thought that before you gave it to me. Can’t take it back now.”
“If you don’t say something nice about my spectacular drawing you can be sure that I’m gonna take it back from your hands even if that means putting up a fight.”
“How bold of you to think that you’re in a condition to put up a fight.”
“You’d be surprised. And if I can’t, your other nurse friends and your fellow patients can do it for me. I haven’t been handing out flower drawings for nothing all day.”
“And you say I am the devil in disguise.”
“I never said I was an angel, have I? Seriously though, you have ten seconds to pay a compliment to my drawing. Ten—”
“ ‘Okay’ was a compliment.”
“I beg to differ, since when ‘okay’ is a compliment? Say that to the Italian chef in Mamma Mia when he asks how is the pasta and see if he takes ‘okay’ as a compliment and doesn’t pour half-full pasta plate over your head, and ruin your favorite bee shirt. Also, nine.”
“That was oddly specific. Did that happen to you?”
“Eight, I have no idea what you’re talking about, I was just being hypothetical. Seven, six—”
“I bet he wouldn’t threaten me with taking my meal back if I did at least.”
“Sev— wait a second I was counting backwards, weren’t I? Where were we? Five!”
“Man, you’re really no good at math.”
“Wanna know what I’m good at? Many things, and fighting happens to be one of them. Four, ” Jaskier attempts to get up from the bed, somehow forgetting about his broken leg for a split second and swears: “Ah, cock!”
Geralt barely holds back a laugh at that one.
“Careful.”
“I can still verbally fight you.”
“You’ve been already doing that for the last five minutes.”
“…three.”
“You never give up, do you?” Geralt rolls his eyes with a smile, “It’s a good drawing. I really like it.”
Another lie.
He doesn’t just like it, he loves it.
But even saying that he likes it is enough to make Jaskier beam at him.
“You gave everyone a flower drawing,” he points out “but I get a cactus and a drawing of myself, why is that? It must have taken some time to draw this.”
“A special drawing for a special nurse.” Not making eye contact, Jaskier says so softly that Geralt nearly misses it. “Yeah, it sure took some time to draw it, and my schedule was so full because of all the crazy hospital parties you guys keep throwing that I could hardly find the time, but eh, I managed somehow.”
“Sucks that they never invite me to that parties,” the nurse jokes back. “Seriously though, thank you. I appreciate it.”
“I’d like to draw something for Ciri, too. But I’m saving it for later when I can meet her. You didn’t tell her that I’m here, right?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Good! Keep it that way.”
***
Smiling at the memory, Geralt rises from his bed to take the drawing from his bedside drawer. No, of course he doesn’t look at it every day, what are you talking about?
If he hadn’t promised Jaskier that he wouldn’t let Ciri know until these two can meet in person, this drawing would be on his wall already.
Maybe next to Ciri’s painting of a white wolf.
He had considered doing so but then decided that it would be wise if he didn’t. No doubt Ciri would figure out it was Jaskier’s drawing as soon as she would see it. It was signed by him, after all. Not that Ciri couldn’t figure it out without the signature.
“What the hell, Geralt” The nurse snorts to himself and runs a hand over his face as he imagines his room filled with the drawings of his daughter, and Jaskier’s. “What are you gonna dream about next? Ciri being a flower girl at your wedding?”
Fuck.
He is totally dreaming about it now.
God, it’s crazy how much he misses him, even though he doesn’t really know him.
Ciri already is crazy about Jaskier, and Geralt looks forward to them to meet, to see how Ciri is going to react when she sees him. He feels like the two would talk non-stop, and he would just listen to them talking about God knows what.
He would have no problem with that; in fact.
“I’ll give him a call tomorrow,” he thinks.
He wants to see Jaskier again.
(Thanks for reading! Sorry for the lack of Jaskier in this chapter, but it was like:
-So, it’s time for you to meet Ciri!
-Hah, well, I love her, but I don’t think so. Not yet.
-But Ciri-
-You can have me as a Flashback Guest in this chapter, nothing more.
-But my plan wasn’t like this.
-Too bad, I’m my own character.
Let me know what you think please. Have a good day everyone ~ 💛)
#the witcher#jaskier#geraskier#nurse geralt au#my writing#I Would Get Into Millions Of Accidents Just To See You#geralt of rivia
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Magical Time of Year
Happy Holidays from we the Supernatural fandom! I present to you a fluffy fic of family, gift exchanges, coming out, and copious amounts of Destiel. Minor angst, because I can't resist, but a happy ending all around.
Destiel, No Archive Warnings Apply, and there are spoilers from the finale.
Thanks so much for the help @themoosegoes-deanicandothis!
Link
“Dean, we have to go,” Cas called out, “Sam just texted me that Claire got here, and we still need to get presents for Jody and Charlie!”
“Alright, let’s just do one last check that we got everything,” Dean said back loudly over the din of the mall. It was December 24, 2020, Christmas Eve, and the pair were finishing up their present shopping.
“Dean Winchester, I have gone over that list five times, we have everything!”
“Humor me?”
“Fine,” Cas grumbled, faking annoyance at his boyfriends antics. Dean really did love Christmas, and was actually enjoying himself in this enormous place. Everything was magical during the Christmas season. There were lights everywhere, everyone seemed happier, and snow made everything unreal. Especially this year, when nothing even resembling an apocalypse was occurring, December was Dean’s favorite month. Even the shopping required by it.
“New hat for Bobby, the blanket with the green creature on it for Charlie,”
“Baby Yoda, Cas!” Dean interrupted, “I showed you the first episode, you know who it is!” Cas smiled to himself. Dean was sure he did that just for his boyfriend’s reaction.
“A silver knife set for Jody,” he continued, “And nunchucks for Claire,” Dean grinned at the last one. It had been his idea, and after extensive convincing, Cas had finally given in and let him buy them. The pros of finally dating.
“We already have the hair products and gun cleaning set at home for Sam, along with Eileen’s new gun, books for Kaia, a new bear for Jack, a pasta maker and hair pins for Donna,” Dean had been particularly proud of Donna’s present. The hair pins could be removed and turned into silver daggers, perfect for hunting, “and that book on mythology and medicine for Alex. And for you a-”
“No, remember Cas, not supposed to tell me,”
“Right. Yours is a secret, but just from you. Are we missing anything, Dean?” he finished sarcastically.
“Nope, we got it all.”
“Good, then let’s get out of here,” Cas grabbed Dean’s elbow as forcefully as an angel could without hurting him, and steered him towards the door.
“Cas, I was thinking maybe we could go grab lunch in the food court before we go?” Dean ventured.
“Dean, I love you very much,” Dean flushed and ducked his head, “but I would rather not spend another second in this godforsaken hellhole.”
Dean conceded, knowing fully well about Castiel’s fear of crowds. It had taken some kissing and pleading to even get him to come today. The hunter nodded his head and threaded his fingers through the angel’s, joining him on their way out.
They left without another word. Dean stayed silent until they got in the car, and let go of Castiel’s hand. He wasn’t quite pouting, per se, but he was very hungry! Halfway home, Cas turned to him.
“We can go get burgers if you’d like…?” A smile broke out on the hunter's face as he jerked the car around. Burgers at the local diner had become the pair’s staple date, so much so that the owner knew then by name.
As they sped off to get their grub, the smile widened on Dean’s face. He reached out and grabbed Castiel’s hand in his own, happy to be exactly where he was.
The enormous metal door clanged open, prompting excited outbursts from Charlie and Donna. The two had taken a surprising liking to each other in the week they had spent together in the bunker, and at this point it was strange to see one without the other.
“Boys!” Donna called out, “Get down here, and tell Jody that the Southern Ocean is totally a thing!”
“The what?” Dean asked jovially. Everything was brighter in the bunker with their family around, the air felt like it was doused in joy.
“The southern ocean,” Jody said, “Donna claims that there’s an ocean around Antarctica called the Southern Ocean, but I know for certain that it didn’t exist when I was in school,” Jody, Donna, Charlie, and Bobby were seated around the war room table. Despite their supposed argument, Donna’s feet were settled comfortably in Jody’s lap, and they were smiling at each other lovingly. Dean would never admit it, but they were a really cute couple.
“I’ve never heard of it,” he supplied as he walked down the stairs, Cas close behind. It earned a “Ha!” from Jody, who pointed at Donna victoriously.
“Jodyo, that doesn’t mean anything! Deano here barely got an education--no offense, sunshine--we should ask a more reliable source!”
“Hey!” Dean called out. He may not have gone to college, but he still went to school. He went unanswered.
“I’ve never heard of it either, and I’ve been around longer than anyone here,” Bobby put in.
“And yet you thought Australia was part of Oceania yesterday,” Charlie said with a cheeky grin. Dean had no clue where all these geography based arguments had come from, but he would be the first to admit they were hilarious.
“Listen here, ya idjit, this ‘Oceania’ didn’t even exist when I was young. Don’t be ageist,”
Charlie scoffed and tried to snark back, but Jody interrupted her.
“Alright, fine,” the sheriff said, “Cas, you’re an angel. Is the Southern Ocean a thing?”
“Yes,”
“See!” Donna exclaimed.
“But,” he continued, “It was only established in the year 2000. So I think you’re both right. Jody didn’t learn about it in school, but it is real,” The women stared at each other, not quite knowing how to react.
“Huh,” Jody said eventually, “Cool, I guess,”
Charlie rose and sidled up beside Cas.
“I tried to tell them that,” she whispered, “Even looked it up on my tablet. But nooooo, they only trust the angel,” she said it all with a smile on her lips, despite the tone of her voice.
After Jack restored everyone and released all his power back into the world, the boys found out he had done them one last favor. Not only had he brought back the Charlie from apocalypse world, he also revived their Charlie, the one killed by Styne. It was awkward at first, but the two actually made fast friends. Apocalypse Charlie had decided to spend this Christmas alone with Stevie, like Patience had with her dad, so it was just the original Charlie hanging with them this year.
“Alright,” Dean said, “As weird and nerdy as this conversation has been, Cas and I have some presents to wrap,” he held up the bags in his hands to prove his point.
“Have fun, boys,” Donna waved them away, and the two headed towards their room.
They stopped in the kitchen along the way, greeting Sam and Eileen who were working on the stuffing, which Dean had assigned to them. He had taken charge of all the cooking this year, working all of their guests to get ready for the feast he had planned. Dean snagged a beer for himself and Cas from the fridge and signed a quick Have fun, Moose Sam’s way before heading out. With Eileen back, the residents of the bunker had all gotten much better at sign language, and Dean was very proud of how far he’d come.
They passed Claire and Kaia watching Home Alone in the Fortress of Deanitude. They stopped by to give them a quick greeting and hugs, but left them to their movie. Claire had said she wanted to educate her girlfriend on the culture she’d missed, but Dean was sure it was just an excuse to cuddle with her. Lord knows he’d done the exact same with Cas.
Jack was wrapping presents in his room, and Dean had to remind him again to keep the door closed while he did.
“But why, Dean?”
“I told you, they’re supposed to be a surprise. That’s why we wrap them, so it kinda defeats the purpose if someone sees what it is before it’s wrapped.”
“Why is it a surprise?”
“Because that’s part of the Christmas spirit. Random things that someone might not even want wrapped in colorful paper stuffed under a dying tree.”
“Okay!” he said with a smile.
Finally, Cas and Dean made it to their room. They had decided on Cas moving into Dean’s room when they got together, considering Castiel spent barely any time in his and Dean’s mattress was better.
They wrapped in silence for a while, before Dean spoke hesitantly.
“I think I’m going to tell them, tomorrow,”
“Tell who what?” Cas turned to him and put down the blanket for Charlie. Dean’s tone was worrying.
“Tell everyone here about us, that we’re dating.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
“Then why haven’t you told them yet?”
“I’m scared,” Dean and Cas had made a rule the day after they got together. They would be completely honest with each other. Not more lies, tricks, or deception. They were so bad at communication that they pined after each other for twelve years before getting together, and Dean was determined to never let anything like that happen again. Hence the honesty.
“Why?” Cas moved forward, pulling Dean’s hand into his own, “You don’t think they think two men being together is wrong, do you?”
“Nah, of course not. There are more gay couples in our family than straight ones. I’m scared that they won’t want me to be with you because you’re an angel. We’re hunters, babe! Hell, I tried to kill you when I first met you. I know they love you, but what if they don’t think you should be with a human like me?”
“Dean, tell me. What was Sam’s reaction when we told him?” When Dean finally told Sam, a week after Jack brought Cas back and Dean kissed him for the first time, the man’s reaction had essentially been, “finally, you idiots!” It was so much better than Dean’s insecurity had told him that he nearly started crying. Nearly.
“He said we were idiots and was proud of us for finally getting together,” he grumbled.
“And Eileen?”
“She hugged us and gave me a link to something called ‘Archive of Our Own’ that had creepy stuff about us written on it.”
“Jack?”
“He asked if that meant we were really both his dads now,” Dean had actually started crying that time.
“So do you really think the rest of them won’t approve?”
“I know, I know. It’s stupid, but there’s this voice in the back of my head just telling me that they’ll leave me, eventually.”
“It’s not stupid, love, it makes sense. Dean, know that I will never leave you again. And nobody out there will. We love you, we’re your family. Dean Winchester, I promise you that not a single person in this bunker will ever leave you out of choice,”
“Thank you,” the hunter whispered, then leaned forward to kiss his angel softly. Minutes later, after they finally broke apart, Dean made a decision.
“I’m going to tell them. Tomorrow, when we open presents. I love you Cas, and I need people to know that.”
“I’m proud of you, my love,” Cas smiled kindly, cupping Dean’s chin, “Now, let’s finish wrapping these presents, then maybe we can join the girls and watch that movie. I find Marv very funny,” Dean pulled him in for another kiss, then went back to Claire’s nunchucks. He wrapped them in copious amounts of tissue paper, shaping it like a wrapped shirt. Pranks on Claire were his favorites, and tricking her into thinking a weapon was some kind of disappointing Christmas sweater was going to be fun .
The next morning, Jack bounded into their room at six o’ clock sharp. Dean had made the mistake of telling the kid that he couldn’t wake them before six, assuming he would sleep in like every other morning and get them at nine, maybe. Apparently not.
Jack flopped on the bed on Cas’s side that was regularly empty. Not like Dean would ever admit it, but the both of them loved cuddling. It was a rare occasion that Dean woke up without Castiel’s back pressed comfortably to his chest.
Gone were the days when Dean snatched a gun from beneath his pillow if he was startled from sleep. Cas could do that to a man. Today he just grunted tiredly.
“Dean! Cas!” Jack whispered excitedly, “It’s Christmas! Like, actual Christmas, not the one we had with Ms. Butters!”
“Yeah, kid,” Dean grumbled, lifting his head to look over Castiel’s shoulder, “It is. But the sun also hasn’t risen yet, so could you give half an hour?”
“Okay!” Jack said, not fazed, “I’ll go get Jody and Donna!” Dean nodded, brain still addled from sleep. A thought occurred to him.
“Wait, Jack,” he called out, “Be quiet, and only wake up Donna!” Dean had seen Jody in the morning, it wasn’t a good idea to wake her against her will.
Jack nodded, still excited, and rushed out of the room. Dean shoved his face back into Castiel’s neck, breathing in the comforting scent of honey and ozone. He actually wasn’t sure how their guests hadn’t noticed them sleeping together, but they hadn’t mentioned it, so he guessed they just never felt the need to venture to this part of the bunker so late at night.
Exactly thirty minutes later, after Castiel had woken and the two had made no effort to leave their cozy bed, Jack reappeared in their doorway.
“Ready?” he asked, smiling as bright as ever.
“Sure, Jack,” Cas said, very excited for his first Christmas as well, “why don’t you get everyone together in the war room and we’ll meet you out there.”
“Okay!” he said before rushing off again. Dean didn’t know how he had so much energy so early in the morning.
“You ready for this?” Cas asked, giving his boyfriend a peck on the cheek and standing up.
“Yeah,” Dean said, “I actually think I am.”
“Then let’s go,” Cas said determinedly before grabbing Dean’s hand and pulling him up beside him. They headed out the door side by side, clad in scooby doo and bumble bee pajama pants with old band t-shirts on top.
The war room held what Dean thought his heaven must really look like. Sam and Eileen were curled up in one of their brand new armchairs Dean had chosen to sit by the tree, signing at each other with lightning speed. Jody was on the ground with her legs stretched out, Donna’s head in her lap and a cup of coffee in her hands. Claire, Kaia, Alex, and Jack all sat as close to the presents as possible, and Dean didn’t miss Jack trying to peek into a bag with his name on it that Dean had put there last night. It seemed like the girls were trying to explain some of their favorite Christmas traditions to him, but the nephilim just looked lost.
Bobby was seated in the other armchair, and Charlie leaned against its leg. Their family was all here, and it was a beautiful sight.
When Donna caught sight of the pair, a big smile split her face.
“Deano, Angel Boy!” she called out, “Don’t be shy! Come on over here, there’s plenty of room. Maybe Jody’ll even let you put your head in her lap too!” From the look on Jody’s face, Dean didn’t think that was going to happen.
Cas headed in in front of him, and settled himself down right beside Donna. Dean joined Charlie leaning against Bobby’s chair.
“Dean,” Jody grumbled, “that boy of yours woke me up at the asscrack of dawn saying that you told him it was okay.”
“I told him to wake Donna up,” Dean gave a meaningful look at Jack, “because I know she’s an early riser. I specifically told him not to wake you, so I’m wondering why exactly he did?” Dean, Cas, and Jody turned to Jack while he heard something that sounded suspiciously like “Oooooh, someone’s in trouble,” from Claire. Dean shot a glare her way before turning back to Jack.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” he explained, “I was super excited and I really only meant to wake up Donna but I think we talked too loud and woke up Jody too. I’m sorry,” and there were the puppy eyes. Damn kid had learned them from Sam, and who was Dean to resist.
“Alright, Jack, I’m not mad at you,” he gave in, “Just remember to never wake Jody up again. Capeesh?”
“Yes, I capeesh,” Jack nodded, repeating a phrase Cas had obviously taught him. Jody smiled at him kindly, letting him know that she wasn’t still angry at him. No matter how grumpy Jody could be in the morning, she was one of the kindest people Dean knew.
“Not that this hasn’t all been just touching,” Eileen said and signed, “But could we open presents now? I got up this early for a reason, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Dean said, “Go ahead and start handing them out, kid.”
Jack scrambled to grab the first present he could get his hands on, and thus the present exchanging began. Some families did it one at a time, taking a moment for each present. Not the Winchesters and company. They ripped into their gifts at lightning speed, only taking the time to fawn over the present and thank the gifter profusely before moving on.
Kaia loved the books from the brothers and Cas, and squealed when she saw the warding necklace Claire made her, kissing her girlfriend cheerfully. At the same time Donna was thanking Alex for her “#1 Sheriff” mug while Jody protested that she, in fact, was the best sheriff. Their exchange was interrupted by a shriek of “ Nunchucks!!! ” from Claire, which caused Jody to glare at Dean for ten minutes straight. Charlie leapt up and hugged Dean and Bobby when she found a Baby Yoda blanket and working futuristic gun side by side. Bobby loved his new hat as much as Sam loved the beanie Jack got him, and Jody gave Donna a big kiss for her new gun. Alex loved her mythology and medicine book, and Eileen actually got two guns due to miscommunication. She couldn’t have been happier. Cas gave Kaia and Claire an enormous hug to thank them for a new tie, this one stitched with wings and halos. Towards the end, Dean gave Cas a bumblebee beanie and Cas gave Dean socks with pie on them. Dean had to hold himself back from kissing the man on the spot.
Finally, once the present exchange had died down, and everyone was left admiring their new possession, Dean had no more reason to put it off. He had shifted over to sit beside Cas while they all opened their gifts, so he turned to Cas, whispered in his ear what he was going to do, then took a deep breath.
He started to stand up, felt awkward, then sat back down. He cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck, and couldn’t for the life of him start talking.
“Spit it out, Dean,” Bobby grumbled.
“Heh?” he asked.
“You’ve been shifting around for five minutes like you’ve either gotta pee or you need to say something. I’m betting on the latter, so don’t keep me waiting.”
“Oh, um,” Dean started, his stomach in knots, “Well I do actually have something I need to tell you. All of you. Except for Sam, Eileen, and Jack. They already know, see… And now I need to tell the rest of you because it’s very important but know that I think about it I’d rather not--”
“Dean,” Jody said gently, “You can tell us anything. I promise.”
“Ok, well, um… ok. So, you remember the whole Chuck infinity snap everyone dies thing?”
“Vividly,” Donna said.
“Well we lost Cas right then too. Not for the same reason, that’s a story for another day. Anyway, we lost him, It was…” he started to get choked up. Head in the game, Winchester , he thought, “It was horrible but Jack brought him back and after that the two of us kinda started… dating? Like, we’re together now,” he finished with a grimace, disappointed with his… well, talking skills. Cas grabbed his hand comfortingly, and smiled at him with eyes that said I’m proud of you .
“Uh, Dean,” Claire said, breaking the silence, “We know.”
“Huh?”
“Honey,” Donna cut in, “You two aren’t exactly subtle. To be honest, I thought you two lovebirds were together from the moment I saw you together, and Jody had to convince me you weren’t. Recently though, it’s kinda obvious, sweetheart. You’re both so much happier. You still do the staring thing, but it’s less intense. Castiel’s ASL name for you is literally ‘freckles.’ And you really think we didn’t notice you sleeping in the same room? We thought you knew that we knew.”
“You… knew?” Dean asked, shocked. Donna nodded, “And you’re like, okay with it and stuff?”
“Dean, why wouldn’t we be. I’m dating Jody, Claire’s dating Kaia, why the hell do you think we wouldn’t approve?”
“No, no, not that. It’s just, Cas is an angel. Literally and figuratively. I thought you might not like that we’re not the same… species?” By now Cas’ arm was wrapped around Dean, and he had slouched into his side.
“Well, you were obviously wrong, weren't cha? None of us could ever think Cas is a monster, and you two obviously belong together,” Donna said kindly.
“I'm proud of you, boy,” Bobby added, making Dean duck his head and grin.
“Thanks Donna, Bobby,” he said, “I’m sorry I doubted you. And were we really that obvious?”
“Yes, Dean,” Cas said in his gravelly voice, “I’m fairly certain we were. I thought they knew already at first, but as you are more well versed in human interaction, I trusted your judgement over my own,” at this, Claire cracked up, quickly joined by Alex and Sam.
“Not that this hasn’t been the most awkward conversation ever--except a certain dinner--” Dean and Sam shuddered at the memory, “but I would really appreciate some breakfast. And I was promised pie?” Claire said with a smile, cutting the tension in the room with ease.
Hours later, after breakfast and pie had been eaten, and Jody had already taken away Claire’s nunchucks until further notice, Dean and Cas were left alone in the war room.
“That went a very different route than I expected,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around the angel’s waist and leading him towards their room.
“That seems to happen often in our lives, Dean,” Cas replied.
“Is it a good thing?”
“Right now, I think it is.”
Dean stopped Castiel in the doorway of the hall, and looked up at the plant hanging above their heads.
“Mistletoe,” he said, then drew his angel in for a kiss.
Christmas truly was a magical time of year.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m Not Alone (Part Two)
Part One
Summary: Joan receives a text from Thomas asking them to come over.
Warnings: food, system switches, fear of abandonment (let me know if I missed any!)
Word Count: 1,697
A/N: I am,,, super aware how rushed this chapter seems. Apologies!! I just wanted to get it out before the New Year!!! Thank you all so, so much for reading part one and being so interested!!! It means a lot!!!
-----
New Message from: Tommy Salommy -Joan?
Reply sent: -sup
New Message from: Tommy Salommy -I need to speak with you on a matter regarding my OSDD system. Would you like to meet up for lunch?
Reply sent: -Yeah of course, is everything ok???
New Message from: Tommy Salommy -Everything is fine. I just want to properly explain what we weren’t able to the other day, if you would be comfortable with that.
Reply sent: -thats fine. ill be over in a few
New Message from: Tommy Salommy -Excellent. Drive safe.
-----
The second Thomas opened the door, he held out his hand. “I believe it’s time we had a proper introduction. My name is Logan.”
Joan stumbled and blinked for a moment, but they did their best to recover quickly and shook his hand. “Uh, Joan. Nice to meet you,” they replied.
“Well, technically speaking, we’ve met several times before. However, I do appreciate the pleasantry.” Logan adjusted his glasses and lead them inside.
Wait.
“What’s with the glasses?”
Joan turned the corner in time to watch Logan pull the glasses off of his face and glance them over. “Well, plural dissociative disorders affect more than just… ‘the mind,’ so to speak. It also impacts certain physical aspects of the body,” he explained, “such as our vision. Patton and I, though we do not share the same prescription, share this pair of glasses.”
“Patton?” Joan asked.
“Our Memory Holder. He is also the one to most often take care of Virgil, whom you met the other day,” Logan continued. He put his glasses back on and gestured to the stove. “Would you like some Pesto Gnocchi? I admit that I am not the best cook, but I attempted as well as I could.”
They nodded and came forward, grabbing a plate out of the cabinet as they did. “Is this the Hello Fresh stuff from this week?”
“Indeed.”
The two got their food and moved to the table, and they ate in silence for a moment. Logan had been right about not being the best at cooking—the pasta was a little underdone, and the mushrooms definitely burnt –but at least it was edible. Joan wondered if the wrong prescription glasses had anything to do with it.
“So… What’s your role in the system, again?” they asked.
Logan set his fork down. “I take on the role of Gatekeeper, meaning that I am in control of who is fronting, or controlling the body, and who is allowed into certain areas inside our Inner World. Thomas and I had agreed that I was supposed to be the one to explain everything to you, as I have done the most research out of us all.”
“Oh,” they said, “So you’re the one who let Anxiety be in control the other day?”
His face turned a brilliant shade of red before he shot them a glare. “Well, I did leave someone else in control,” he snapped, “But it seemed he chose to ignore his orders and allow Virgil to be forced into the front. I can’t be there all the time when there are more issues to be addressed.”
Laughing, Joan held up their hands. “Alright, alright! An honest mistake, I get it!”
“It was. Alters are in no way perfect; we’re all just as prone to error as anyone else.” He stabbed a piece of pasta. “Also, it was not my mistake. It was our Protector’s.”
“Okay,” Joan giggled, “I understand.”
“Since we are on the topic, however, I suppose we should discuss what I invited you over for.”
“And that is?”
“Our OSDD.” Logan set his fork down again and adjusted his posture, folding his hands in front of him. “Joan, I—we—Thomas has Otherwise Specified Dissociative Disorder, Type 1b. There are multiple people living inside of our head. I understand this might come as a disturbance to you, but I can assure you that it is nothing like the movies and media you may have consumed about systems. There is nothing dangerous about us, nor hardly any other system that exists.”
“Media portrayals can be a real bitch,” Joan replied, leaning back in their seat.
Logan raised his eyebrows. “You certainly aren’t wrong about that. If you are… freaked out, so to speak, about this new information, it is… completely understandable, if you do not wish to remain friends.” His voice and shoulders lowered, and his eyes flicked away. “We will not hold it against you.”
That sent a wave of shock and sadness rippling through their stomach.
Joan furrowed their brow, frowning deeply as they looked Logan over. His lips were pressed tight together, and his head tilted down and away. All of his muscles were tensed as if waiting for the worst. Fingernails dug into his hands; breaths were short, yet calculatedly quiet.
It seemed to them that Logan was expecting rejection, but for the life of them, they couldn’t figure out why. They thought they’d always been supportive and clear that they were going to stick by his side no matter what; hell, especially the other day, they’d been extra careful to prove to Anxiety—Virgil? –that they weren’t going to be upset. Had they done something wrong?
Or… Or maybe Thomas had done this song and dance before, and whoever was in their current place had been less than kind. Maybe he’d just gone through some things that caused some trust issues, or—
Oh. Oh.
It was in that moment that they remembered what caused DID and OSDD in the first place.
Severe, persistent childhood trauma.
Trust issues suddenly didn’t seem too wild an idea anymore.
“Logan…”
Joan leaned forward and tilted their head to catch his eye; when he looked up, they reached out and put their hand on his.
“I am not going anywhere,” they firmly stated. “I said it the other day, and I’ll say it again: I’m always here for you. And I mean always. So what if there are more of you than I’d thought? That’s not going to change how much I love you. I’m happy that you trusted me with this information, but I never want you to feel like I’m going to leave any of you behind over this.”
Logan’s lip wobbled, and he quickly bit down on it. They rubbed a circle into his hand and offered a soft smile.
“I love you. All of you. Okay?” they said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He nodded. “Okay,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
The two stared at each other for a moment, soft smiles lingering on each of their faces as they soaked in the moment.
And then, a huge grin nearly split Logan’s face in half.
He yanked his hands away and jumped to his feet, slamming his palms on the table. “Can I give you a hug?!”
Joan flinched a bit, but they recovered as quick as they could. “Uh… Sure?”
Letting out a squeal, he practically flew around the table before flinging his arms around their shoulders the second they stood up. They stumbled from the impact, but wrapped their arms around his waist anyway.
He hummed and buried his face in their shoulder, glasses nearly falling off his face. “We love you, too,” he muttered. “So, so, so much.”
“You’d better,” they teased.
He giggled, and then he sucked in a small gasp. “Oh, yeah! I’m Patton, by the way!”
Joan’s eyes flew wide open. “Oh! Uh… Nice to meet you.”
The two pulled apart, but Patton left his hands on their shoulders, beaming at them for a long moment. Joan couldn’t help but smile back.
Then, he winced and hissed, eyes squeezing shut. He lifted his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Are you okay?” Joan asked.
He groaned and slowly nodded. “Ah… headache… Patton, how many times do I have to tell you not to do that…?”
They frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Patton has the atrocious habit of figuratively ripping control out of the hands of whomever is in the front when he feels any extreme emotions,” he explained. “It always leaves us with a terrible Switch Headache, and yet, he never learns.”
“Do you need Advil or something?” they asked, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder.
Shaking his head, he put his glasses back on, eyes remaining shut. “Pain relievers don’t affect these type of headaches, unfortunately. But I do appreciate the offer,” he replied. “Um… I believe I am still Logan, if there was any confusion.”
He took a slow, deep breath before carefully opening his eyes. Swallowing thickly, Logan glanced at the food and pressed his lips together.
“I suppose we need to finish eating,” he said.
The taste of burnt mushrooms hovered over Joan’s tongue. They shrugged. “I mean… if you’re not up for it, with that headache and all, we can always save it for later,” they suggested. “Wanna watch some Steven Universe?”
“Would you be alright with Jacques Cousteau, instead? I personally am not quite a fan of bright cartoons in general, and especially not when I have a headache.”
Joan nodded. “That makes sense. What’s Jacques Cousteau?”
Logan’s eyes lit up—they weren’t quite as bubbly as Patton’s, or as giddy as Thomas’s, but they sparkled in their own, unique manner. “Oh, it’s this wonderful documentary series from the 1970’s about marine biodiversity. Jacques Cousteau, the host, was a French film maker and marine explorer that had an extreme determination to teach…”
As Logan began to ramble on, he moved to lead them to the couch. Joan couldn’t help a fondness seep through their veins. He wasn’t Thomas. He wasn’t Patton. He wasn’t Virgil. He was his own person, one that Joan was going to get to know and learn about all over again.
Thomas and his system had to have gone through a lot to get to where they were now. Joan could only imagine what kind of pain, and shattering, and growth that he’d lived through. Their heart broke at the thought, but they couldn’t stop themselves from feeling proud of how far they’d come.
And they were going to be there for the rest of the journey.
145 notes
·
View notes
Text
Quarantine, Day 63
I did not go anywhere today, and I know that only because I am still wearing my clothes from last night and now it is tonight. Usually when I go someplace, I at least make the effort to change my clothes. Tomorrow I must take a shower and put on clean clothes, yeesh. I am setting a terrible example for my stinky child, no wonder it's hard to get him to take a shower. Time needs to get real again very soon before we start growing fungus behind our ears or something. Anyway, we spent most of the morning preparing for and then actually having the telemeeting we were supposed to have yesterday, and it was both productive and depressing.
Things are not getting better with my FIL; the occupational therapy does not seem to be working yet (though for fuck's sake, he's in his eighties and it has only been a week), and the staff believe it's likely that the insurance is going to kick him out soon because fuck insurance companies. The doctor at the hospital said at least two weeks of rehab, but that doesn't matter because the insurance company said 5-7 days plus reevaluation. I just do not understand anybody who says private insurance is better because it's better to be a customer than a citizen. We are customers of the insurance companies and they constantly treat us like hot garbage while we pay out the noses for the privilege. I mean, I do understand why people want private insurance instead of universal healthcare, it is because they understand that the current pool of healthcare has a limit and they want to make sure it stays limited to people with money, but that's another fucking rant.
Anyway, he's not getting better, which means we are very unlikely to be able to bring him home when insurance decides he is done. We just can't provide the incredibly comprehensive care he needs when he forgets that he is eating with a bite halfway to his mouth and cannot brush his teeth without step by step coaching, not to mention whether we are physically up for moving him in and out of bed or emotionally up to dealing with the fact that he is often only tenuously connected to what’s going on around him. It sucks, it sucks so bad that I can't even describe it, but it's reality and it's just staring us in the face.
The only good news is that there is a bed available at our second choice facility (we're still waiting on the first choice, but second choice is good too) and we learned that there is a move-in period where we will be allowed to send things to decorate his room. So we're brainstorming ideas about drawing pictures for the walls and making photo albums, and I might try to crochet a quick lapghan if there is enough time. The insurance is required to give us two full days notice before they cut us off, which is a heartlessly short time period, but at least it is some kind of notice. When he's in a regular room he won't be so isolated (he is in semi-quarantine till his second COVID test comes back), and we can make his room more homey, and maybe he will start to feel a little better.
I didn't feel like eating lunch today, which was a bad choice because I ate two billion comfort snack foods instead and made myself half sick. To make up for it, I made egg noodles, hand rolled them because my pasta maker is still in Virginia, and am drying them for soup tomorrow. When I go home, I should bring back my pasta maker. And my plants. And some kittens. I wonder if I could convince my rescue to give me some weanlings, at least. If they send me healthy three or four weekers and I take along my kitten medical kit, all they'd need to give me is some Strongid and maybe some ponazuril just in case and we could telemedicine. I feel terrible because my rescue is now suddenly up to the eyeballs in kittens and I'm sitting four hundred miles away and not helping. And I know being here is more important, but god, most of the time it feels like what I can do here is pretty damn limited as well. Kittens would certainly keep me too busy to be frustrated.
MIL fell again today because she was wearing the bad shoes, but at least she was using the walker and fell on her butt and not her knee again. These hardwood floors are a bitch and she really, really needs to walk less. A lot less. Still caught her sweeping the kitchen floor this morning, ffs. That was the subject of tonight's post-bed conversation with the kiddo; he is upset that things are rough with Nana and Papa both at the same time and that Nana is not taking care of herself. He has been watching me ride herd for days and is also trying now, with even less results than when I do it. I reminded him that Daddy and I are trying to help Nana remember to slow down, and that it is not his job to have to be the Nana police and make Nana sit down. We told him that he is doing all the right things already by fetching things for her and reading to her while she is resting, and by helping her be happier. Before we got here, things were a lot worse and Nana wasn't eating or sleeping enough, but now she is and that is very good. I also reminded him of the good things we were planning to do for Papa's new room and that he was going to be instrumental in helping with that, and that was enough to make him feel better.
Anyway, he's gone to sleep now and I have been entertaining myself with podfic and browser games, my current go-to happy place. There's something about being able to listen to a story and play a game that requires little thought that just takes up enough of my brain that I don't have to worry or think too hard about anything, and it feels good. Gotta be careful though, out here on Day 63 where time hasn't been real for months, it's easy to lose track of how long you spend doing nothing.
#quarantine#self care and the lack thereof#at least showering less is making my hair color stay looking really good?
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
900
1. What’s the last thing you ate? Shawarma. It was a usual meal of mine at school so I’ve been missing it a lot during this quarantine, and I was happy when my dad got me a couple ones yesterday.
2. What’s your favourite cheese? I haven’t been super experimental when it comes to cheese mainly because the better ones are a little expensive and I’m more willing to spend my money on other foods...but the best one I’ve had is feta.
3. What’s your favourite fish? My favorite cooked or grilled fish is tilapia and eel; as for raw fish I love tuna.
4. What’s your favourite fruit? I don’t really like fruit but I’m open to eating avocado-flavored things like shakes and cheesecake; and I’m okay with strawberry-flavored candy hahaha.
5. When, if ever, did you start liking olives? I’ve never liked olives. I take them out of my pizza and such.
6. When, if ever, did you start liking beer? I never *liked* beer but sometimes I’ll have a bottle if and only if it’s to socialize at a party. I just keep the grimace to myself lol because I personally never found it good. I had my first beer at Marielle’s debut, four years ago.
7. When, if ever, did you start liking shellfish? High school. That was when my palate started to expand and I wanted to try being more adventurous with food. I got into shellfish pretty early on and my mom even used to buy a kilo of mussels just for me.
8. What was the best thing your mum/dad/guardian used to make? I love my dad’s laksa, risotto, curries, and chicken wings. My mom doesn’t cook much but I do like her spaghetti.
9. What’s the native specialty of your hometown? My city doesn’t have native food of its own; and I’m not sure about my province’s specialtes either only because cuisines from other provinces are far more popular. I can say though that most visitors who come to the country often try adobo, sinigang, kare-kare, and bulalo.
10. What’s your comfort food? Cheeseburgers, samgyeopsal, pad thai, and chicken wings.
11. What’s your favourite type of chocolate? Milk chocolate. And it gets a lot of flak because it’s not actually chocolate, but I do enjoy the flavor of white chocolate too.
12. How do you like your steak? Rare.
13. How do you like your burger? I like mine with caramelized onions, a mayo-based sauce, and brioche buns; barbecue sauce or jalapeños are add-ons I have no problem being put in my burger. I don’t like tomatoes, pickles, and lettuce.
14. How do you like your eggs? Scrambled if on toast; omelette with cheese, tomatoes, mushrooms, and bell peppers if with rice; and obviously, poached if on top of an Eggs Benedict. I don’t have a preferred style for eggs.
15. How do you like your potatoes? As French fries or mojos.
16. How do you take your coffee? If someone is making the coffee for me, I request for lots of cream and sugar. I’d drink any kind of coffee but black. If I’m at a coffee shop I typically get caramel macchiato.
17. How do you take your tea? I enjoy lemonade iced tea. I don’t really like hot tea.
18. What’s your favourite mug? I suppose my favorite is the only mug I own, which is a white mug that changes colors depending on the temperature of the drink inside.
19. What’s your biscuit or cookie of choice? I can’t stand biscuits anymore because those are what my grandma/mom packed for my recess nearly everyday throughout grade school. I don’t like store-brought cookies either because they taste super processed, but my favorite as a kid were the Presto peanut butter cookies.
20. What’s your ideal breakfast? Garlic rice, a packed omelette, and hashbrowns if I’m somewhere fancy. Scrambled eggs and hotdogs when I’m at home.
21. What’s your ideal sandwich? Monte Cristo or banh mi.
22. What’s your ideal pizza: Quattro formaggi. If we’re talking more experimental pizzas, barbecue pizza is a guilty pleasure.
23. What’s your ideal pie (sweet or savoury)? I’m not a big pie person but I do love savory a lot more, like chicken pot pie. I think most of the sweet pies out there are fruit-based anyway.
24. What’s your ideal salad? Spicy tuna salad. I’ve been having such a craving for it :(
25. What food do you always like to have in the fridge? We always have white bread, eggs, my mom’s cranberry juice, and veggies.
26. What food do you always like to have in the freezer? In the freezer we never run out of various meats and frozen meal packs, like frozen bangus, hotdogs, chicken nuggets, French fries, etc. We also often have ice cream, but it’s not a must-have for us obviously.
27. What food do you always like to have in the cupboard? Pasta, canned food like luncheon meat and corned beef, cup noodles, various condiments like soy sauce and fish sauce, 3-in-1 coffee.
28. What spices can you not live without? I can’t cook but I do know I like salt, pepper, paprika, and cumin. I’m sure I’m missing other essential ones lol
29. What sauces can you not live without? Sriracha, bagoong, banana ketchup, gochujang, peanut sauce, gravy, barbecue sauce, aioli, mayonnaise.
30. Where do you buy most of your food? My parents don’t have a supermarket preference; they just go to wherever is most convenient for them at the moment. Once I start doing my own grocery shopping though I would rather go to a supermarket where they’d have a wider selection for foreign foods, like those that would have Pop-Tarts and sriracha sauce. Just the foodie in me that constantly has to have food from other cultures.
31. How often do you go food shopping? My parents do the groceries once every two or three weeks, I think.
33. What’s the most expensive piece of kitchen equipment you own? Aside from the obvious ref or cooking range, probably the coffee maker. Not sure how much it cost my parents but it’s supposed to be branded haha.
34. What’s the last piece of equipment you bought for your kitchen? Dad bought a couple of pans because he didn’t like how our old ones were starting to get too many scratches.
35. What piece of kitchen equipment could you not live without? Refrigerator. So many things would spoil without it...that’s why when we get blackouts the first thing we worry about is how long the ref would stay cold.
36. How many times a week/month do you cook from raw ingredients? I’ve only done it once.
37. What’s the last thing you cooked from raw ingredients?
38. What meats have you eaten besides cow, pig and poultry? Crocodile, carabao, lamb.
39. What’s the last time you ate something that had fallen on the floor? Don’t remember exactly when but it has to be sometime recently. I’m not too grossed out by this.
40. What’s the last time you ate something you’d picked in the wild? I have never done this.
41. Arrange the following in order of preference: Italian, Mexican, Chinese, Indian, Thai, Sushi – Indian, Thai, Italian, Japanese, Chinese, Mexican. This question is a teeny bit annoying and a little offensive. How would you like it if I referred to American food as ‘ribs’ lol
42. Arrange the following in order of preference: Vodka, Whiskey, Brandy, Rum – Vodka, rum, (some) whiskey. I don’t drink brandy because that’s what my grandpa, who had alcohol issues, used to drink.
43. Arrange the following in order of preference: Garlic, Basil, Lime, Mint, Ginger, Aniseed – Aniseed, garlic, basil, ginger, lime, mint.
44. Arrange the following in order of preference: Pineapple, Orange, Apple, Strawberry, Cherry, Watermelon, Banana. –
45. Bread and spread: I don’t really munch on this particular food. Toast and butter is enough for me.
46. What’s your fast food restaurant of choice, and what do you usually order? It’s either KFC or Jollibee. In KFC I get a Zinger and a brownie; in Jollibee, I usually order the chicken-spaghetti set, large fries, and a Yum Burger. If they have tuna pie on the menu I’d get that too. My appetite gets exceptionally large when it comes to Jollibee hahahaha.
47. Pick a city. What are the best dining experiences you’ve had in that city? I no longer remember what exactly I ate but I had a blaaaast eating in Bali. I also had a sushi platter in Fukuoka that I’ll never forget.
48. What’s your choice of tipple at the end of a long day? I don’t drink regularly but if I’m out with friends and we want to chill after a tiring day, we get a pitcher of a mixed drink.
49. What’s the next thing you’ll eat? Eggs and hotdogs for breakfast. Probably with bread.
50. Are you hungry now? A little bit, considering it’s nearly 10 and I still haven’t had breakfast.
51. Do you eat your breakfast everyday? I’ve been having it everyday now because I’ve been home for...most of the year...sigh. But I skipped it all the time when I was in school because getting to class on time and having a clean attendance record mattered to me more than filling up my stomach. 52. At what time do you have breakfast? On weekdays I have it between 9-10 AM. On weekends when my parents are home, we have brunch instead at around 10:30-11 AM because they wake up late.
53. At what time do you have lunch? I normally skip lunch now. In school I just had tiny eating breaks throughout the day, but I didn’t have lunch per se.
54. What do you have for lunch? My usual purchases were instant noodles/kwek-kwek, tapsilog from Rodic’s, or shawarma rice. Thrived on these three for my entire college life.
55. At what time do you have dinner? 7-8 PM, depending on whenever my dad is finished cooking.
56. What do you have for dinner? My dad likes changing up our dishes everyday :) It’s one of my favorite things about quarantine. Outside of the quarantine, I’ve never had a main dinner dish.
57. Do you light candles during dinner? No.
58. How many chairs are there in your dining room and who sits in the main chair? 6 chairs. We don’t have a ‘main’ chair that’s larger than the rest, but my dad is the one who sits on the chair on one end of the dining table, or what we call the kabisera in Filipino. My mom, siblings, and I sit on either side of him.
59. Do you eat and drink using your right hand or the left one? I use my right hand for the spoon and my left hand for the fork. I drink with my right hand most of the time.
61. Mention the veggies that you like most: Broccoli, cauliflower, lettuce, cabbage, spinach, asparagus, string beans. Idk what eggplants and bell peppers are but I like those too.
62. What fruit and vegetable do you like the least? Cucumber and ampalaya. 63. You like your fruit salad to have more: Air. Hahahaha I do not like fruit salads.
64. You prefer your vegetable salad to contain more: I love vegetables but don’t really eat vegetable salads? I don’t think I’ve even heard of those.
65. What’s your favourite sandwich spread? Whatever goes on banh mi.
66. What’s your favourite chocolate bar? Whittaker’s peanut butter chocolate.
67. What’s your favourite dessert? I really love macarons, cupcakes, and cheesecake.
68. What’s your favourite drink? Just water. Other drinks make me fuller more quickly.
69. What’s your favourite snack? Pringles, French fries, corndogs...anything deep-fried, really.
70. What’s your favourite bubble gum flavour? Strawberry, or just the original bubblegum flavor.
71. What’s your favourite ice cream flavour? Salted caramel, queso real, or cookies and cream.
72. What’s your favourite potato chip flavour? Original or sour cream and onion.
73. What’s your favourite soup? Miso. Have to have it whenever I have Japanese food.
74. What’s your favourite pizza? Already answered this, but I will always order quattro formaggi if I see it on a menu.
75. What’s your favourite type of dish? I have lots of favorites, but I think chicken curry takes the cake for me.
76. What food do you hate? Fruits, any dessert with fruits.
77. What’s your favourite restaurant? Yabu. It’s a Japanese restaurant that doesn’t even serve sushi (because I’m still ticked off by that sushi question lol).
78. Do you eat homemade food, or food delivered from outside? These days I eat food cooked by either parent. But when I’m on my own, I buy my food.
80. Who cooks at home? My dad does most of the time. My mom will make breakfast on the weekends.
81. What kind of diet (e.g. low-fat, high-fiber, high-carbohydrate, balanced diet etc.) do you have? I’m not on any.
82. How do you keep yourself fit? I just moderate my food intake in general and make sure I stop eating once I feel full. I don’t work out or count calories and stuff.
1 note
·
View note