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thatsatricky1 · 7 months

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† 𝕽𝖊𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 † Prologue

Synopsis: Y/n a once prodigy child, later on detective, finds herself working on the case of her brother’s murder, also a former detective himself. Leading down a long winding hole of crime, death, gore and mixed feelings she never thought would surface with all that was happening. Mixed feelings that should never even be entertained.

Pairing: Ateez Ot8 x AFAB (F) Reader

Genre: Crime, Horror, Mystery, Romance & Thriller.

Warnings: Death, dementia, family trauma, murder, serial killers.

Disclaimer: This does not depict an accurate picture of Ateez and this is strictly fantasy.

Word Count: 1,2k+

It had been exactly 273 days since my brother’s death. Nine months. Nine months of trying to figure out his unfair death. Then again it really only took a few weeks to understand how and why he’d died. I was apparently brighter than the general police and justice system. Though that is pretty easy to do these days because of the corruption that’s always lingering there, that’s just more common these days.

My parents knew I’d been ‘special’ since I was a child, having strived to put me through any and every course they could to continue my educational path to success. The only one who truly understood me was my older brother, having known even with my ability to learn at an incredible rate that I didn’t want to be overworked like a dog, to just live in the moment like a proper kid.

He’d always tried to get me out of things I didn’t want to do. It was fruitless as my parents ignored his arguments. Though his efforts were in vain I still appreciated it even if I’d just been a kid at the time. Appeasing my parents was easier than getting argued with day in and out.

Unfortunately or fortunately however one perceives it, my parents passed. One day they were there the next they were on the news, even made it on the newspaper. A dull car crash, a drunk driver on the other end. Of course it had hurt, they may have caused my childhood trauma but that didn’t mean I didn’t love them. It was hard to swallow, but with time we learned to live with it.

It was like whiplash. One moment I was getting hounded by my parents to do more, learn more, be better. The next, gone. My brother and I moved in with my grandparents at ages 17 and 14. They’d been a complete 180 compared to my parents, whether that be because of them wanting us to digest and find our way after our parents passing or just to let us be kids. Maybe even both.

It was refreshing not having to do everything, take everything in my own time. Get to do what other kids got to do. Though even with my parents gone, old habits die hard as after just one year I started to learn everything and anything again but this time of my own free will. This time only what I wanted to specifically learn.

Peace lasted for about three years. In the second year of living with our grandparents, we had to find a home for my grandmother. Dementia was different for everyone; some went years with a steady and slow decline but others declined much faster. My grandmother being the later option. It took only three months for her to decline so much to a point where she was just better off with 24/7 care by professionals even if none of us preferred that option.

Then in the third year of living there, my grandfather had two heart attacks, the first was okay. He’d ended up fine besides a contracted right arm, he’d always joked about it being fine since he was left handed. Though the second had been too much for him, having passed.

At that time my brother had turned 20 years old, having saved his money those three years and gotten a good job. I was 17 years old, already finished with school early and deciding what degree I wanted to go for. My grandfather was the sweet old man he’d always been, he’d written in his will that we got the house, much to my aunt’s misfortune and anger. The only thing he’d wished from us that we’d known from talks here and there was to look after our grandmother if anything happened to him, and that’s exactly what we did.

My brother somehow managed to become a detective, fairly quickly. He was also bright and learned fast, just differently. Shitty pay if you asked me, but it was enough to get us by, seeing as we already had a house without debt chasing us because our grandparents had paid off their house years ago, only having to deal with the bills like electricity, wifi, water, food ect.

I had many interests, hobbies and shit like that but ended up following in my brother's footsteps by also becoming a detective. Hence why I know about the shit pay. Easy job, more time for myself. I somehow ended up being my brother's apprentice working underneath him, some would say that is a conflict of interest. But it didn’t usually change much, other than him being over protective.

That’s where it leads to last year. My brother was freshly 23 and I was 20. I’d officially gained my job title and no longer worked under my brother, but beside him. Though we started to take on different cases. We would often help one another with certain cases, mainly him being nosy about mine.

That was until my brother died. He’d been working on a fresh case, barely seeing the light of day. Besides going out for our everyday lunch. When he didn’t show up on that Wednesday for lunch I knew something was wrong. It was the same day I found him.

Due to conflict of interest I was not allowed to investigate his death, nor was my department. The case was given to another department, who promptly gave a bullshit answer and tucked it away as if they didn’t know who I was, who his sister was. I didn’t make a scene or anything useless like that, instead putting my actual time to good use on my brother's case that I’d taken into my personal hands off record.

One thing you wouldn’t think was a thing, was the fact that Seoul had serial killers like no other. By the fact that they are all connected in a way. Besides here and there, those were the ones that easily got caught. It was laughable, the fact that serial killers had made their own organisation. Then again, why not.

I was thankful that I’d kept a low profile as a detective. I could have easily made a name for myself, but I didn’t. There was no need to act cocky and show off when I could quietly get my cases done and over with. This ended up good for me in the long run because no one would know me, suspect me as I solved my brother murder.

I know who killed him. I intended to act on it, and not in a legal way. But no one would know that. Though for the sake of my brother and the last case he was working on, I wasn't just going to take down his murderer, no. I was going to do much more than that if provoked. On one hand I want them to provoke me and on the other I just want to be done with it after these past nine months. It’s in their hands to see how they react to it.

Which leads to now, I will finally get justice for my brother passing. No one would get away with this. This will inflict retribution.

Chapter one

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: (Comment if you’d like to be tagged in following chapters)

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allisonreader · 2 years

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Tales Of A Frozen Sailor AU; Jessica’s Rescue

Word of warning before you read on. What is below is a messing draft. Having bigger blocks of writing than if I had edited it. This is currently getting a rewrite in hopes of moving past where I’m stuck. Also, this was an option that I considered last year and then again this year for the Inklings Challenge. It’s not even that I dislike what I have, but I just cannot get past a certain point.

Growing up he always felt like he had an odd fascination with the Titanic. It wasn’t like he was particularly fond of history. He did alright in his history classes, but there was just something about that ship that set him on edge. Especially when they had to read Jessica Hudson’s letter. In his one class, they had been asked to write an analysis of her letter. Instead of doing that, he wrote an essay on why he thought doing such an analysis was out of place. Explaining that because she had not died in the sinking; it was an invasion of her privacy, to read what she must have thought were her last words. Ones that she had clearly intended for her family. Let alone what her family might think about being thrust into the spotlight. All because the letter revealed the fact that she was a sailor. For those reasons he did not care for that ship, nor the treatment of Jessica’s letter.

When he received the invitation to his friend’s wedding, the theme shocked him. It wasn’t the fact that the event would be formal or that it would be happening on a private cruise. It was the fact that they had decided to get married on the anniversary of the Titanic hitting the iceberg, while using the Titanic as their theme. It left him tempted to say that he couldn’t go. The thought left him a bit unsettled that they wanted to be over the wreck site for their wedding. The gravesite of so many. It was what had brought Jessica’s letter to mind again. A gravesite that had so nearly been hers.

((So to be invited to his friend's wedding that was Titanic themed and to be held on a private yacht, he was not impressed. He could refuse to go on principle. Though that seemed shallow. He’d rather grin and bear it. He cared more about his friends and seeing them married, rather than their questionable wedding theme. He would be gone a few days for this wedding. As not only was it Titanic themed, but it was also going to take place over the wreck site. On the same day that the ship hit the iceberg. Ninety-nine years later.))

Nanna knew what he thought about this wedding and the fact that he wasn’t so thrilled about going. So she took him aside the day before he was supposed to head out.

"You’ll be okay my dear boy. Besides, when you get back, we can read that mysterious letter of mine."

"Okay Nanna. You won’t read it without me?"

"Emery, I have had it for decades already. I can wait a few extra days so we can read it together."

"Thanks Nanna. I look forward to it."

"I know you are. Be safe. We all love you dearly. Phone or text us if you have service."

"Yes Nanna, I will."

Later he wished that he hadn’t been quite so flippant to his grandmother. But he couldn’t have known that at the time.

The trip started off well enough and the real party didn’t start until after the wedding ceremony. Everyone was dressed formally, as per the dress code. Some in more historically inspired outfits than others. His own suit leaned to the more historical side. Which included a pocket watch to complete the look, though it was a little unnecessary- as he was still wearing the watch his grandfather gave him.

The reception started with a five course meal, accompanied by the appropriate wine selections for each. Followed by an open bar and dancing. The music was loud, thumping and modern. The room grew hot with the consumed alcohol and fervent dancing.

He grew warm enough to peel off layers as the night went on. First went his suit jacket, then his tie, which was adorn with gold tie clip from his grandparents. His cuff links came off and into the jacket pocket along with the tie, so he could roll up his sleeves. He even took off his waistcoat, including the pocket watch.

After all of that he was still feeling a bit hot and had probably drank a bit too much himself. So he went on deck to cool down. The air was crisp and the sky was clear. He took a deep breath. No one else was close to him on the deck. There wasn’t much wind and the ocean seemed calm when he looked over the rail. He wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, but he found himself in the cold water. Struggling to find the surface. If he didn’t, he would die.

Nobody had seen him go over and it took them awhile to notice that he was gone. A search of the yacht began. Only after not finding him anywhere on board, did they try searching the water with low hopes of finding him. Or at least finding him alive. Unaware that they would never find him, his family having to be told that he was lost at sea.

The next thing that he knew after going into the water, was finding a solid sloped landing under his feet. He didn’t know what it was, but it had to be better than being in the water. When he surfaced enough he realized that somehow he was in some sort of white corridor with flickering lights, lined with doors, filling with water. Was he dead or dying? Falling into the open ocean shouldn’t end him in a corridor like this. The only thing to do was to move away from the water. Figuring out where he was, and how he got there could happen later. Finding safety was most important. One thing that did catch his attention was the sound of crying. He couldn’t ignore it. The sound was coming from one of the nearby doors. Though he wasn’t sure which one. After calling out and getting a response he was able to find a young lady, dressed as a sailor with short hair and no visible breasts behind a locked door. The things that she claimed didn’t make sense to him. Things which couldn’t be true. Nor did it make sense how he was on a sinking ship. How it didn’t look anything like the yacht that the wedding was on.

After he had gotten her out of the room she was locked in, all he could do was follow her through the maze of corridors. Until they finally made it to deck. It brought into focus how out of place and lost he was.

There were funnels on the ship. Four funnels. The clothing that people were wearing was like things that he had only seen in movies and museums.

It was starting to sink in. He really might be on the Titanic as it was sinking. He was going to die. Most of the men on board did and he was going to be one of those casualties. It didn’t help that he was already wet, as was the young lady he rescued. Of whom he was starting to expect was Jessica Hudson. At least if that was the case, he knew she’d live. Even if he didn’t.

She lead him to a lifeboat yet. The other sailor there relieved to see her as she took control over the man who was less experienced.

"I’m sorry, I can’t fit you on the lifeboat-"

"It’s okay- I understand-"

"Wait! Listen to me. We can’t take you now- but once we’re on the water- we should be able to take a little more weight on. Once the ship is a little lower in the water- jump- we’ll find you. It should at least give you a chance. You’ve given me a chance." She gave him a grim smile as he nodded. Her plan didn’t seem likely to work. These life vests seemed so janky in comparison to the ones that he was familiar with, but he still had put one on.

He did as she asked. It was his best chance to survive. Much to his surprise, she and the younger sailor were able to pull him out of the water. Just in time to finish watching the large ship finish sinking at the unnatural angle that would leave people fascinated for at least a 100 years.

The cold seemed to seep into his very bones as they waited for rescue. No one was eager to talk after the disaster they had just been through and were still living. Unsure if or when rescue would come. At least he knew that by the morning they would all be safe, as long as they lasted those hours. Trying to keep warm was the priority until then.

It didn’t surprise him when it was the Carpathia that rescued them. Those of them in the lifeboat who had been the wettest, needed a bit of extra medical care. Frost bite and hypothermia were the two biggest concerns. Both of which he did need looking after to some degree. He wasn’t sure how long they’d all be on the Carpathia for. It was one of the details that he was a little fuzzy about. He did manage to corner the sailor he rescued and privately layer out all he knew to her.

"Look, I know that you’re a woman-" A look of fear crossed her face. "I’m not going to say anything about such. You saved my life-"

"You saved mine first."

"We saved each other then. That doesn’t mean I’m going to turn you in. I know who you are. You’re Jessica Hudson. An able seaman, a twin- who while you were locked up you wrote a letter to and sealed it inside a bottle. Which will eventually be found and brought up from the ocean floor. Along with the rubbing of your dad’s name Henry Hudson."

"How do you know that? You can’t know that. I’ve never met you."

"You haven’t, but I do know about you. That you’re friends with a fellow sailor John Winters. That you’re older than you claim to be because you aren’t a boy-"

"Stop."

She was suspicious of him. Rightly so. His story sounded crazy. He shouldn’t know as much about her as he did. He hardly believed his story and he was the one who lived it. It still shouldn’t be possible that he was in 1912. He didn’t want to think about what his future might hold. He had nothing. Literally only having the clothes on his back. He knew no one. His grandparents weren’t even born yet. He had no place to go. Everything that he had once known, was now lost to him. All of which he told her and her friend John.

It lead to a conversation about what they were going to do with him. If they even believed his story about him being from the future. It’s not like his proof was anything spectacular. All he could show them was his watch and tell them that there’d be an inquiry when they reached shore. Though the inquiry could be easily surmised after a disaster like they just lived through. Although knowing that it would be a Senator William Smith leading such, might be a little bit more proof and truthful sounding. It was something that would only be proved on shore.

Between the three of them they decided it was the best for him to go home with John. So he’d be traveling to Maine. Where he’d meet John’s mother Naomi and his little sister Amelia. He’d stay with them until he could find a job and get himself on his feet.

He knew that as much as things might not be as completely foreign to him unlike if either John or Jessica had gone into his time, things were still going to be completely different to him. It was going to be a huge learning curve for him. Computers were a long time away and he’d probably never see the technology reach the same place he was familiar with it being. Let alone the fact that he might have to live through two world wars, the depression, and more. Also, there’d be no Star Wars or Star Trek and he might never watch either property again. He was still ignoring facts about his family. Like that his father and Nanna would never know what happened to him.

He couldn’t think about that now. Learning how to live was going to be more important.

In New York he was given a sum from the collected fund for Titanic survivors. Which would at least help him a little bit to get him off the ground. He remained in New York, waiting for "Jesse" Hudson and John Winters to be released from the inquiry. That way he could travel with John to meet his family. He would also get to say goodbye to Jessica as well then. He also took in the sights of a New York City skyline that didn’t match the one he was familiar with. This skyline was missing a couple of extremely iconic buildings that were a couple of decades away from being built yet. That was certainly an odd thought. Though it got him thinking that at least he’d have an idea of what stocks to invest in and which he’d probably stay away from. Maybe if he did well enough, he could even end up in the same circle as his family again. He could potentially see his grandfather grow up.

John’s family shocked him immediately when he met them.

John’s family was very different from his own. It wasn’t even the fact that Benjamin Winters had passed many years ago. Nor was it the fact that the Winters family didn’t have much in money or possessions. What made them so different from his own family was how close and open-hearted all of the members were. Naomi did not play apparent favourites between John and Amelia. The two siblings were playful and friendly together. Completely unlike the relationship with his sister who thought it best to antagonize him and make him a mark for bullies in his younger school days. He was pretty sure that John would fight anyone who would do that to his sister, or even for Jessica Hudson. Both things a far cry from his own mother who thought her oldest could do no wrong, while he could do no right. While Naomi had hugged him as soon as soon after she had hugged John, when she didn’t even know him. The fact that he was a stranger to their family didn’t matter. He was alone and needed help and they were going to stand up and help him. John had him explain his entire story to Naomi and Amelia. Both listened carefully and while Amelia might have tried to tease him a bit, Naomi took him seriously. Between her and John, they helped him set up his new life. He could be honest about one thing, and that was the fact that he had lost everything when the Titanic sank. Everything else besides his name was a half truth. He was no longer born in the 1980's but the 1880's. The entirety of his past had to be twisted to fit into a believable history which could fit into the time period. The Winters family helping provide him with the information that he needed to know and didn’t have. Like cutting wood with an ax, dishes, helping with laundry, cooking and other chores that he had never done before because he had never needed to. Life was different without computers and tv. At the same time as much as everything was different, it was the same. People still acted like people. Though his mother never would have just taken him in like Naomi had. Not with a crazy story like his and knowing nothing about him. Nanna probably would have. He missed her the most currently. But the Winters family tried hard to make him feel welcome and included in their small family.

It didn’t seem to matter to them that he claimed to be from the future. They just claimed him as their own and helped him get accustomed to the time and helped find him a job when he was ready. He ended up in an office doing work that probably wasn’t much different from what he would have been doing in his own time. One thing that Naomi suggested to him was to keep a journal of everything that he wanted to remember from both his own time and what was happening in his day to day life. That perhaps, if any journals were kept, they could potentially make it into the hands of his loved ones, so they’d know what happened to him. He hadn’t even mentioned that worry to Naomi when she suggested that.

It amazed him how quickly he felt a part of the Winters family. Without being able to be with his own, they filled that space and in someways better than his own family members. By far Naomi was a better mom than his own and honestly he preferred John and Amelia in comparison to Alexandra for siblings. Neither of them made fun of him for his name or not knowing how to do something. Plus Naomi didn’t play favourites between any of them. He became as much as one of her kids as either of her biological ones. There were times where he wished he could have met Ben. He had a feeling the Benjamin Winters would have been a lot like the rest of his family. Then came a day when John was going to go down to Georgia to visit the Hudson family and offered for him to join him. He was curious to see where Jessica lived, and to meet the family members who had been mentioned in her letter. They hadn’t spoken to each other since they split ways in New York, and he felt too awkward to try and write her a letter at all. He didn’t blame her for not writing him at all. He was just that weird guy who claimed things that weren’t possible. Or at least shouldn’t be. But he agreed to go with John down to Georgia, as awkward as it might be.

(And just above is about where I get stuck and can’t quite seem to get past. This next part doesn’t quite count as that.)

December 2011

It had been eight months since Emery; her grandson, had gone missing and was presumed dead. Life continued on, as the holiday party her daughter-in-law showed. She retired early from it. Not up for the festivities. Truthfully she was mourning her grandson. This would be the first Christmas since he had been born, that she wouldn’t be getting him a gift. A memorial had been held for him months ago already. They all knew it was unlikely that he would turn up alive after disappearing off a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. They had also been warned that they might not ever find his body either. It left her old heart aching. She knew Edward was struggling with the loss of his youngest. Edward and Emery had always been much closer, than her daughter-in-law and Emery had been. While she was sure that her daughter-in-law and Alexa were more effected than they seemed, they weren’t taking it as hard as Edward and she. She had to admit to herself that she was feeling old and like she wasn’t going to spring back from this loss well. If only George were still around for her to lean on. She found herself wandering over to her dresser vanity mirror. She had it covered with pictures of her family throughout the years. There were pictures of her, Emery and George sitting on the back steps of the house, Emery couldn’t be more than seven in it. A time when he still let others call him Emery instead of Erik, his middle name. She had a picture of Edward and Emery together at Emery's high school graduation. Edward looking so proud of his son. There were older pictures too. Like the first time she and George got to hold their grandchildren. She had pictures of Edward growing up and baby pictures of him. She even had a black and white picture of her wedding day to George. And right behind that wedding picture was an old envelope. One that had been given to her on said wedding day. She had forgotten all about it when Emery had gone missing. Tears filled her eyes as she took the envelope back to her bed. "Not To Be Opened Until After April 15 2011" It had always struck her as an odd thing that George's family friend had given them such a mysterious; what she assumed was a letter. But neither she nor George had opened it. After George had passed, Emery decided that he would read it with her when the time had come. Which would have happened after he had gotten back from his trip on the ship. How odd it was- that it was labeled to be read for the day they learned that Emery had gone missing, presumably by going overboard. She carefully opened the letter to read it. It went…

Dear Margaret,

Thank you for waiting for so long to read this letter. And if you’ve tried peeking, I’m afraid most of this letter won’t make much sense, not until after the read after date anyways. Once that date has passed, this letter just might solve a mystery about what happened to your grandson. An odd thing for a letter given to you on your wedding day to mention. As you do not even have a child yet. But you will, a son who will be middle aged if you’ve waited to read this. Nanna, I am your grandson Emery Erik Piston. By the time you read this, I’ll have been gone for however many years. Let me start from the beginning. It’s funny to think about how we had been talking about reading this letter together after I went to that wedding, while I’m the one who has written it. Nanna, at the reception of that wedding, I went out onto the deck for fresh air and fell overboard somehow. The next thing I knew I was in cold water trying not to breathe. After floundering to the surface, I found myself in a corridor of what I soon found out was the Titanic. I was able to rescue Jessica Hudson from the room she was locked in. If I didn’t fall overboard, she would have drowned in that room. Her letter would have been her final words. I am so grateful that I no longer have it memorized. Only the "Dear Ruth, I am about to die," remains. If that’s even accurate or not. There’s so much I want to share with you Nanna, it wouldn’t all fit in a single letter. Not to mention that I would never remember everything that I would want to tell you. Thankfully, I happened to gain a wonderful adoptive mom in this time and she suggested right at the beginning that I keep journals of everything that I want to tell you. Which I have done over the years so far. I don’t think mom or Alexa would appreciate or believe it. There’s times yet I don’t quite believe it. My family will keep them for as long as needed. I hope that once you get those journals that they’ll give you and dad a bit of peace. I have lived a happy, successful and full life. Not as short as you may have thought. I got married, had kids and have seen granddad fall in love with you. Which has lead to me getting the chance to see the two of you get married. I still get to be part of your life, even if you won’t be aware of it until reading this.

Love you Nanna

Love your Emery Erik

Emery Erik Piston-Winters

She was having trouble processing what the letter said. It didn’t seem real. But how could it be a hoax? She was given the letter in person. Handed directly to her, years before anyone could know what happened to her grandson.

#musing on tales of a frozen sailor #the au version of it #Jess lives but Erik’s separated from his family #tales of a frozen sailor Jessica’s Rescue

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talesofstyles · 4 years

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Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain.

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder.

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment.

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car.

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.”

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later.

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald.

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.”

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later.

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks.

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off.

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.”

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors.

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve.

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING.

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head.

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her.

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals.

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom.

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife.

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process.

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop.

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache.

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink.

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers.

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest.

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room.

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward.

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket.

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages.

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side.

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door.

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.”

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going.

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him.

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear.

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat.

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes.

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt.

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige.

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down.

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.”

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching.

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fics #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #dad!harry #husband!harry #doctor!harry #surgeon!harry

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achoirofcritters · 2 years

Photo

Rest in peace, Caspian: 2010-2022

Wanted to do a proper memorial post for him.

Caspian was born to a feral cat my neighbor fed in my childhood neighborhood, so I knew him since he was only a couple weeks old. Before he was mine, he was affectionately called “Patches” or “Patchy” and when he was old enough, I carried him across the street to my house. That was June 12, 2010. He was tiny. He also had chronic respiratory issues and funny looking eyes, so he wasn’t the healthiest little stret cat in the world by any means.

Back then, I still lived with my great-grandparents so he was an indoor/outdoor cat, definitely a hunter, always bringing live garter snakes to the porch. He was a silly boy and remained small his entire life. He gave me some funny stories with my friends over the years, and there are a world of memories.

Once I had my own home, he transitioned into an indoor-only cat and took to it well. He liked to lay high in cat trees and on top of our crested gecko’s tank over the hood light. He loved the dogs, scratched my door frames to shreds, and was Murdock’s primary playmate.

He never was too terribly social with people, not a cuddler. He would lay next to you from time to time, and he liked pets, but he preferred the quieter back-end of the house. He had always been like this, and in my old home, he would often lay in the living room with my great-grandmother, causing her to claim he was her cat, haha. After she passed, I caught him laying in her vacant spot on the living room couch.

So when he began to get sick, we didn’t notice right away that he was tucking himself into dark spaces and hiding under the bed. I only really began to think something was seriously wrong when I noticed he was extremely dehydrated after emerging one morning. We got him into one of the only vet offices that had an opening that weekend, and began diagnostics, and after quite a few hefty bills and visits, he was diagnosed with pancreatitis and IBS. We started steroid treatments and he would do well for a while and return to the cat we knew, sleeping up high, kneading blankets, scratching my doorframes, and begging for wet food, but inevitably, he would crash again and it was always so, so fast how quickly he returned to the shell of a cat refusing to eat or drink.

This last time, he had taken a 30 day steroid injection on the 5th and crashed again this weekend, not even two weeks after, and he was obviously in more pain and discomfort than we had seen him yet. There weren’t many other options, not any that wouldn’t simply prolong his discomfort, and the vet confirmed our own suspicions that it would likely be better to let him go. So we did. He went almost immediately after the injection, in my lap, just gave a big sigh and he was gone, didn’t fight it at all. I’m sure he was so tired. He had been with me just over 12 years at this point.

After he got sick, he liked to spend time with us when he was feeling “up” so I’m glad we had these last couple of weeks with him. Even today, we woke up to him laying on the couch with us, not even sure how he managed to jump up there when moving seemed to cause him to mew in pain. But I think it was the right time to say goodbye, and I’m glad he’s not in pain anymore. I wish we could have done more for him, 12 still feels too young, but we did everything we could that wasn’t simply prolonging his suffering.

I hope you’re resting easy, tiny bud. We’ll miss you.

#memorial post #caspian #my pets #cats #my cats #pet death #long post

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bellarkeselection · 3 years

Text

Change of Scenery

Part 11

Tag list- just ask to be added

@rosie-posie08

@kcloveswrestling

@fictionalsidepeice

@whateverthecostner

@stellarosedutton

"I'm gonna go tell John that if Monica isn't off this ranch by morning. I'm taking Bree with me and moving in with my parents."

Moving back into my parents seems like the better option until you start living in the Bunkhouse. Changing my living arrangements makes me slightly forget the crap Kayce pulled when he lied to me about our - no my daughter living under the old storage place in the main house. Throwing on my grey jacket I saddle my horse before the sun's risen waiting for John. He trots over with his horse suprised I'm up early since Kayce usually rides with him. "I didn't expect to see up this early with Bree and you no longer sleeping in my house." Clicking my tongue our horses slowly start their walk allowing us to talk. "Monica's been letting her and Tate hide under their beds, raising her to be afraid like she's her child...." He finishes my train of thought staring at me when the horses stop to rest. "But she's not, I know the feeling. That's the good thing about being a grandparent Y/n. You get to do all things you wished you did with your kid and the things you regret you get to do different." My only regret is ever taking Kayce back when he returned to this ranch.

"You know I might have something to take your mind off him. It would give you and I the chance to work together for a change..." He trails off pulling out a picture of a man I don't recognize. His picture is from a prison, the man is bald and has a black beard around his mouth but no name to identify him. "So this guy used to be incarcerated. John I don't understand what does he have to do with?" He points at the picture saying. "He's the man who wanted to kill all of us. Y/n this is our enemy." Tapping my fingers on my handgun attached to my leg I tip my hat up to the man who would've been my father-in-law if I didn't break off my engagement to Kayce. "Then let's start hunting. Because this man has a lot to suffer for."

A couple hours later I enter the Bunkhouse to see everyone is gone except for my daughter and a guy, Walker I believe his name is. Rip told me he had a fondness for Beth and that he picked him up from the prison to come work on the Dutton ranch. "Mama, Walker can play guitar." Bree comes dragging me to sit down by him at the table. A smile plastered on her face is something I thought I'd never see again after her and Tate were taken awhile back. Her innocence light still remains. Tipping my hat up I started to apologize for my daughter bothering him. "Walker I'm sorry that Bree's distracting you from your work. I can watch her now-" He raises a hand cutting me off reaching over to ruffle Bree's hair playfully. "This little gal is no trouble. She's actually a quick learner of playing guitar."

"Oh well - uh thanks." Looking to my hands I twiddle my thumbs thinking back to what John said about the prisoner. That we needed to hunt him down with him. "Walker we don't know each other that well but can I ask you something..." He just nodded letting me talk. "I'm gonna have to take a few trips off the ranch with the boss and I don't want..." I tilt my head to Bree whose playing with his guitar on Lloyd's bunk. "Could you keep an eye on her until I get back?" Walker answers before I see some empty beer bottles getting an idea. "Of course, darlin'." Picking up my shotgun and the bottles I ride out into the fields thinking I'm not being followed until someone whistled behind me. My eyes catch sight of Ryan and a few yards away are the other Bunkhouse cowboys. Crap I'm busted.

Ryan dismounted his horse helping me sit down the beer bottles, curiosity asking. "What are all these for?" Cocking my gun I aimed it off to the distance getting centered on the bottles. "Relationship issues made me want to blow something up." He reaches into his pocket glancing over his shoulder like he's afraid to get caught. "Don't tell the boss but I have this. Will it help?" In his hand he has a small firecracker that makes me smirk. Sitting it inside the middle bottle I warned him, finger set on the trigger. "Ryan get back. It's going to blow." He obeys my orders just before I pulled the trigger. The bottles fly off in shards with a huge explosion going off. I throw my hands up cheering and suddenly jumping into Ryan's arms as he smirks. He chuckles into my hair feeling the heat from the small blast.

"What are you mormons doing!" Both our bodies freeze in place at Rip's voice booming across the field. "Well that's it. I'm busted." Ryan mumbled into my ear still holding onto me as I chuckled nervously to the ranch hand stomping up to us. "Rip it wasn't Ryan's idea. It was mine. I needed to let off steam." He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Y/n, you could've gotten yourself hurt. Ryan help her clean this shit up and get her back to the Bunkhouse." He rides his horse off to keep working the others. I let my shoulders in relief that he's not too angry. "Maybe next time we hang out it shouldn't involve explosions."

Ryan tilts his head to side jokingly with a smirk on his face. "The next time we hang. Are you asking me out Y/n?" My face turns into a blushing mess causing me to finally pull myself from his embrace. "I uh - no I didn't mean it like that. I mean if you wanted - aaagg!" I pull on my hair annoyed for acting like a teenager again. Truth is Ryan is attractive in my eyes. I guess I just kept that to myself when I was back together with Kayce. Maybe dating somebody else is just what I need.

"Hey don't freak out. I know what you meant but...you know if you ever want to I'm available." He still has a smirk plastered on his face climbing on his horse, winking my way. I climbed on my horse following him back to the Bunkhouse. There are things about this place that make me happy. The cowboys and cowgill are a lot of fun. Rip, John and Beth are here for me. Apparently Ryan as well. Bree's home is this ranch and it's not like I can't have her live with my parents. They live on the otherside of the Dutton fence line after all. My eyes trailed to Ryan as he dismounted his horse watching me from the corner of his eye. Maybe just maybe a new relationship is what I need. A relationship with Ryan.

Oh snap, Is Y/n going to date Ryan?

How will Kayce react?

Comment and Reblog 😊

#kayce dutton #kayce dutton x reader #luke grimes #john dutton #kevin costner #rip wheeler #cole hauser #yellowstone #bunkhouse #ryan yellowstone #walker yellowstone #ryan bingham #ian bohen

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eclectickss · 3 years

Text

Make Me Feel Special (1/2)

Pairing: Milf!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Warnings: Mommy issues/kink, sexual implications, major age gap (reader is of age)

Summary: You are angry at your best friend for turning down the opportunity for something that you would give your life for: a mother.

Word Count: 3K?

Link to Part 2

A/N: Not grammar checked at all! A blurb gone big!(still at writers block on PGATW) But requests are open! I’ve never done one before but i’m willing to try. <3

You entered the apartment and placed your keys in the dish and jacket on it’s hook, making your way into the kitchen to place your to-go food in the fridge. Jane sat at the island on the computer you shared, and you smiled.

“Hey, I picked up sandwiches for dinner. Hope that’s cool.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Your best friend didn’t look up, but it didn’t really bother you. Well, she was your only friend, but still.

You and Jane had been sharing the apartment for years now, The two of you working a good job to afford it and making a livable income. You had been close since high-school, due to your similar social status, but beyond the two of you, nobody was too good at making friends.

From what she had told you, Jane’s mom wasn’t around much when she was growing up. Jane was a teen pregnancy, and ever since she was born, her mom made no time for her daughter. Agatha, was her name.

Agatha came from a wealthy family, though. Her parents (Jane’s grandparents) wouldn’t allow her to use the family money for her child, much less anything else. She struggled with Jane, and therefore the two of them were ever close.

Agatha’s parents died when Jane was in high-school, so her mom inherited their wealth, but their relationship was past salvageable. At least in Jane’s eyes, it was.

Jane was always telling you about how bad of a mom Agatha was and about how you were lucky that you didn’t have to deal with someone like her. Jane didn’t understand though. You would had given anything to have someone like Agatha. Even if she wasn’t around to much, it was still better than nobody at all.

You were now setting the table for two as you pulled the sandwiches out of the fridge, also finding some strawberries to place at the table. You now were looking through the pantry for chips when you heard a knock at the door and Jane moving around to answer it.

“Mom?!” You heard at the door while you still had your head buried in the pantry. Your eyes widened at the name, never expecting to hear it in your life (in that context, at least). You thought Agatha was out of the picture. “What are you doing here?” You stayed silent as you listened from around the corner.

“Well, I think it’s long overdue that we had a talk, Jane, honey.” She sounded a little more raspy than you were expecting, but that doesn’t say much about someone who used to be an addict.

“We don’t do that, Mom. Anyways, now isn’t a good time.” You heard your friend sigh. The woman was your literal mother... you could at least give her five minutes, you thought.

“I want to start, honey. Please just let me in?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“C’mon, kiddo.” She begged, and you felt a little bad for how Jane was acting. You know her mom wasn’t a great person, but she was still her mom.

You never got to have one of those.

“If this is just you on another one of your sobriety stunts...”

“I’m really trying this time, Jane! I know I fucked up, baby, but please.”

“Fine.” Your friend grumbled. You heard increasing footsteps and your heart raced as you were about to meet the source of Jane’s complaints and drama.

You hurried to sit at the kitchen counter before the two women caught you snooping, but your gaze snaps up just in time to see Agatha Harkness walk into the room.

Jane might have always mentioned that her mother was any and all variations of a bitch, but she failed to mention how attractive the woman was. Her messy brown hair sat on top of an old purple cardigan and worn out jeans, followed by a pair of well-used slip-on shoes. The look together was not extremely flattering, but Agatha somehow pulled it together in a way that made your stomach turn. Your eyes raked her down, but you think she caught you when you met her gaze again. She smirked softly.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had guests!” She says as her own eyes follow your figure, and you wonder if she’s just doing it to mock you or flatter you. She looks back up with a glimmer in her eye, and you decide on the latter option. Your face goes red, but you try and brush her actions off, not wanting to mistake it for anything else.

“Didn’t I say that this was a bad time?” Jane grumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Harkness. My name is YN.” You smiled as you held out your hand.

“Call me Agatha, darling.” She stared into your eyes. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of Jane’s friends.” You panic under her gaze.

“We were just about to sit down for dinner, if you want to join us. We don’t have any food for you, but-“

“Oh, thank you... I was hoping I could talk to Jane in private, though.” She walked over to the table and took a seat.

“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it to YN, too.” The two of you joined Agatha at the table.

A long moment of awkward silence passsed between the three of you before your guest finally spoke up.

“I want you in my life, Jane. For real this time.”

Nobody says anything, and dishes stop clattering.

“I know I shoulda done this earlier... hell, I shoulda done this when I got claim to my parent’s money, but I want to look after you. I never got the chance to do that when you were young... cause of all the drinking and working... but I can do that now. I’m ready.”

Jane sat with her mouth open and a half eaten sandwich forgotten on her plate.

“No, Mom, you shoulda done this from the moment I was conceived. You don’t get a second chance with me. I’m not giving you a second chance, or a third or a fourth or whatever number you wanna give yourself. You wanna know why? It’s because I already did that. And you let me down every single time.”

Agatha looked a little speechless.

“Fine, then.” She sighed. “I won’t bother you again.” But it hurt you to watch a daughter turn away her mother, when that was an opportunity that you wanted so badly. “Is it alright if I stay the night, though? It’s a long drive back to my place.”

Jane rolled her eyes, knowing that her mother was being dramatic, but didn’t want to put up with any more of her antics. “I better not see you in the morning. YN can get blankets for the couch.”

“Hey, Jane,” You sighed as you entered her room.

“Hey, YN. I’m sorry you had to deal with the shit show that is my mother. I can’t believe she just walked in here and expected me to accept her pathetic invitation.”

“No, it’s ok. She’s not that bad with me.”

“Well she just met you. I just don’t understand why she thought showing up unannounced would magically make me want a mother again. It’s fucked up.” Jane said, but you couldn’t sit there and watch her tear down something that you wish you had.

“Yeah,” you mumbled and rushed out of her room before she could say anything else.

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, then headed over to the sink for some tap water. The cool liquid rushed down your throat as you held down your tears, thankful that nobody was around.

“Hey, Honey,”

Shit. You forgot that Agatha was on the couch.

You turn around to see her meeting your gaze, although her eyes quickly found the way to the rest of your body.

“You doing alright, babygirl?” The nickname made you heat up. She spoke with concern and care; something that Jane chose to ignore, which made you feel bad for Agatha. You wish that Jane wouldn’t take for granted what her mother was trying to offer her.

“Uh... yeah... I guess.” You sigh, hopping up to sit on the counter as you watch the other woman fill her own glass at the sink. “Jane is just... being a little hard right now.” You chose your words carefully, not wanting to lose the trust of your friend but also wanting to gain the trust of another.

“What do you mean?” You realize the situation you have put yourself in.

“It’s just... I didn’t have a mom at all growing up. Or a dad. I had my shitty uncle... until he tossed me into the foster system. I had it real rough... and it still kinda is... but Jane has been helping. That’s why we’re friends at least. She might view me as a charity project, but i’m desperate, I guess.”

“What does all of this have to do with Jane being hard, hon?” She leaned onto the counter across from you.

“She didn’t really have a mom, either... growing up. No offense.”

Agatha shrugged. “I know.”

“But now that she’s given an opportunity to have one, she turns it down... and it makes me jealous. Mad. Angry.” You pause. “I know I’ll never get the chance at a mom, but she has one. And fuck, I would give so much to have that.”

“To have someone like me? A recovering drunk who treated their teen pregnancy like a joke?”Agatha sighed into her hands, but her words meant so much more to you than she may ever know.

“Yeah. To have someone like you. Someone who cares.” At that, she looked up with a new light in her eyes, but you don’t meet her gaze. You don’t want her to see the blush or desire written on your face, so instead, you pull a cigarette out from your jacket pocket.

She watches you as you hop down from the counter to get the lighter out of the junk drawer, paying attention to the way your body moves. You notice how her eyes follow you, but you don’t call her out on it, knowing you would do the same if the roles were reversed.

“You want a hit?” You lift your eyebrow as you raise the smoke to meet her gaze. A glint of humor is caught on her face, and you smirk.

“Sure... why not.” She says as you join her in leaning up against the counter. You bring the cigarette up to your mouth and click the lighter.

“So,” Agatha starts again, both of you a few puffs in. “How did you end up here with Jane?”

“Uhh... we met senior year of high-school. I was fucked up. Shit grades. Wasn’t going to graduate. Drug money to pay off... no job. Jane used your money to pay off my debt. She found me a job. Tutored me. Like I said, I felt like a charity project. But at least I graduated. We both work now and pay for this place together. Maybe it’s not great but we’re both better off than we were a few years ago.”

“Why didn’t she accept anything I tried to give her? Did she tell you?” Agatha was prying, but you didn’t mind.

“You mean after high-school? She didn’t want any help from you. In her words exactly... ‘She wasn’t there for me for the first 18 years of my life, so why should she help out now...’”

“And what do you think about that?”

“I didn’t grow up poor, Agatha. I grew up with nothing. I would have taken any of your offers in a heartbeat, no matter how guilty they made me feel.”

“Good girl.” She nearly whispers, and you turned to face her, but you couldn’t make anything out of the expression written on her face. Your own skin was hot and something was burning in your core, and you didn’t know what to think.

“I’m sorry... what did you just say?” You watched as she put the cigarette out, now giving you her undivided attention.

“So tell me, honey, do you have a boyfriend? I’m assuming a pretty thing like you would have one. Tell me about him.” Part of you wondered where this conversation was going, but the other part assumed that she already knew which direction you leaned in.

“Uhh... not my type.” You stared at her with curiosity.

“So you got a girlfriend, then?” Her new confidence shocked you a little bit.

“Uhh... no.” You tilted your head, and she seemed to pick up on your confusion.

“Good girl.” Your mouth was dry. “You see, mommy doesn’t want you having a girlfriend... no, she wants you all to herself.”

Your eyes widen in shock, but your core aches and cheeks burn. You stare at the woman next to you as a hand slides onto your thigh.

“Oh come on, darling. You said you wanted a mommy, baby. I wanna take care of you. I see the way you look at me. Don’t deny you want me too.” She spins around and pins you to the counter, and you audibly gulp.

“But- Jane.” You whine, already being driven crazy by the proximity of Agatha’s body.

“Jane is kicking me out, baby girl. And you can come live with me. Mommy has a pretty house, honey. I can feed you, clothe you... make you feel good. I can make you feel special.” And God, your soul was ready to leave your body. You wanted this. You could hardly think as her soft lips grazed over the skin on your neck, and a soft moan escaped your throat. Her tongue and teeth pulled at the skin just below your ear, trying to pull a response out of you.

“Mom!” The both of you jumped at the third voice in the room. The two of you turn to Jane in shock. “What the FUCK are you doing!” She rushed over to the two of you, pulling Agatha off of your body. “You can’t just come into my life and try to fuck my friends after someone rejects you!” She pushes her mom back and turns to you.

“Oh my god, YN, are you ok? I cannot believe that she tried to touch you. God, that makes me sick.” She hugged you, but you still couldn’t say anything.

“Jane, honey, you don’t know-“

“Shut up! I can’t even look at you! Get out of my house, mom. I never want to see you again.” Jane’s face turned red with anger.

“Honey-“ Agatha met eyes with you, but you didn’t know what to do.

“Leave! Now.” She seethed and stomped back to the bedroom, expecting Agatha to be gone when she got back.

The woman in front of you moved silently while you still processed what just happened. When she returned with her belongings, she gave you a note, but headed out without saying a word.

After a few minutes, you finally looked at the piece of paper in hand.

If you ever make up your mind...

1286 Lincoln St NW

(673) 867-5309

-Agatha

“YN, are you sure you’re alright? I really never would have expected my mom to touch you or even make you feel uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.” Jane sighed as she sat on the bed.

“I’m fine, J. You don’t have to apologize on her behalf.” You replied, sitting on the chair opposite her.

“I mean what even happened. Why did she do that?”

“Umm... I don’t know. We were just talking and then she started that.”

“What we’re you talking about?”

“Oh, I was just explaining how we met.” You tentatively answered.

“YN you didn’t have to tell her that. I know it’s personal for you, I can’t believe she forced you to talk about it.

“I uhh- actually didn’t mind. I wasn’t forced.”

“Then why would you trust her with something like that? You know how she is.”

“Because...” You thought about your next words carefully. “She cares.” Jane scoffs.

“That must be a different woman we’re talking about, YN. My mom is a selfish bitch who only cares for herself.”

That tipped the iceberg for you.

“You know, Jane? I understand that you and her might never be besties like she wants you to be, but that doesn’t mean you get to fuck her over now that she’s trying.” Your friend looks up at you in shock.

“Well she fucked me over my entire life, so I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

“Because! Jane! She’s changed! It’s only right that you give her one more shot in your life!”

She took a pause.

“I’m sorry, YN, are you defending my MOM? After everything she’s done to me, and everything i’ve done for you?!”

“Yes. It is sick watching you throw something away that I can only dream of.” You spat angrily.

“Geez, YN. Just- get out of my fucking house. Keep your rent money for the month. Pack your shit and get the hell out of here.” She nearly ran out of the room.

But you weren’t surprised. In fact, you expected this the moment you chose your side.

The knocks resonate through the large door attached to the even larger house. Agatha has money.

You thought Jane was over exaggerating a little bit, but now you understood that she wasn’t. You sighed as your cab sped away, and now all you could do was wait.

Agatha opened the door, slightly shocked to see you, but nevertheless happy.

“Hey baby, what is it?”

You took a deep breath, taking in the sight of the woman who stood in front of you.

“I want you to make me feel special, mommy.”

link to part 2

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha all along

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writer-k-pop · 3 years

Text

Train Rides

낮잠은 어땠어? How was your nap?

Description: What is hoped to be a quiet train ride down to your grandparents’ is interrupted by a loud business trip with an intriguing conversation with a business man who’s apart of the group that’s creating chaos in the train car. Warnings: Swearing Genre: Fluff, Non-idol!Minghao x Fem!Reader ft. Non-idol!Seventeen Word Count: 3k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

My duffle bag bounced against my hip as I did a weird jog shuffle down the train platform in search of the train car where my seat was. Almost missing my train was what I got for spending a few extra minutes in the shower. My aunt would've killed me if I missed this train because I was bringing the most important stuff for my grandparents' anniversary.

"Finally." I exhaled as I finally found my assigned train car: number 8.

Pulling myself into the train car, I focused on calming my rapidly beating heart. I opened the door separating the seats from the space between train cars and my ears were immediately bombarded with lively chatter.

I looked up to find a large cluster of seats were taken up by a group of males. They were the ones creating the chatter. And it didn't help that they were all clustered around the middle of the train.

Internally, I groaned because I honestly hoped to get some more sleep on this train ride before I had to deal with my very loud, very obnoxious family. But that plan jumped out the window. But then, my heart dropped even further.

My seat was somehow in the smack dab middle of their cluster.

I cursed my need for a little extra leg room and a window seat as I trudged down the aisle with my duffle bag gripped in my hands. The conversations didn't quiet down as I approached, nor did they stop when I reached the middle of the train car where the backwards facing seats met the forward facing cars with a table in the center.

Sitting across from my seat were two males, one with blonde hair and the other with black hair. Both had rounder faces but they were in no way pudgy. In the seat right next to mine was another black haired male but he had a slimmer face and honestly, a slimmer physique in general. He had sharp facial features, a pair of round glasses sat on his nose and his entire focus was on the notebook supported by one hand while the other flew across the page with a pencil in its grasp.

The two from across noticed me stop and stared for a couple seconds as I struggled to get my ridiculously heavy duffle bag up into the overhead storage.

"Here. Let me help you with that." A light voice offered from behind me and a pair of hands helped me push the duffle into place.

"Thank you." I turned around to properly thank him and I was met with an almost angelic face that matched the voice almost perfectly. He had red hair and angled features but he somehow made it all work well together.

They were all seriously good looking and I was suddenly very thankful I spent those few extra minutes in the shower.

"No problem." The red head smiled and my involuntarily fluttered, "Do you have the seat next to Minghao?" He asked, nodding towards the male who was still engrossed in his little notebook.

"I guess." I told him with a small smile and then I heard the faint ringing throughout the platform telling everyone we were about to depart.

As the train car doors closed shut, one of the males across from my seat must've kicked the male sitting next to me because his eyes shot up with a glare that would've made even the toughest guys back down. But after a quick nod in my direction, the one in the seat next to mine directed his attention to me and I swore I saw his eyes widen ever so slightly. As quickly as he shot his head up, he scrambled out of his seat to let me into my seat.

"Thank you." I said quietly as slid into my seat just as the train began to move.

"No problem." The male next to me said and slid back into his seat. I could feel his gaze on me for a few more seconds before he reburied his head into his notebook.

I pulled out my book and headphones from my backpack before setting it down next to my legs. The conversations around me began to pick up again and I decided I could try to ignore them with some music.

But... just as the train left the station behind...

"So where are you headed?" The blonde male directly across from me asked just as I plugged in my headphones.

I blinked, for some reason unsure why he would be talking to me. "Uh, I'm headed down to Jinju." I answer him slowly.

"Oh, no way." The blonde smiled widely, "We are too."

"Oh, that's cool." I commented, unsure of how to actually respond.

"Yeah, we have a few important business things to do there." He explained though I didn't exactly ask for one. The slight awkwardness that creeped into the atmosphere almost made me want to laugh.

"Important." The black haired male next to the blonde repeated with air quotes and a large eye roll.

"Ignore him." The blonde informed me while pushing the black haired one in the shoulder. "I'm Seungkwan, by the way."

"(y/n)." I introduced me since it was the only thing I could do.

"Soonyoung." The black haired one raised a hand, all traces of his annoyance from earlier completely gone.

"Hi." I smiled, playing with an earbud wondering if they were going to talk to me the entire trip.

"So, are you just visiting Jinju?" Seungkwan continued his round of questions.

"Yeah," I answered, realizing that they were indeed probably going to talk to me the entire way there, "My grandparents live there and I'm visiting them."

"Oh, that's so sweet." Seungkwan cooed.

"I wish I was visiting my grandparents." Soonyoung grumbled, his annoyance returning.

"Soonyoung, I swear to god, if I hear another grievance from you, I'm going to make you participate in the panel next week." Another black haired male from across the aisle narrowed his eyes at Soonyoung.

"Oh god, not the financial panel." Soonyoung's face dropped so fast that I barely had time to hold back a laugh.

Seungkwan caught me and leaned in closer, "Don't worry, we all think he's nuts."

"Not as nuts as Jun." A voice piped up from behind me. The male looked by far the youngest and he was pointing diagonally across the aisle at a bucket hat wearing male with sharp catlike features.

As the others started to banter about who was more nuts, I glanced over at the notebook of my glasses wearing seat mate. On the page was a crude drawing of a character of some sorts and I couldn't help but be captivated by it. It wasn't anything super fantastical or extraordinary but every part held a story and I wanted to decipher all the parts. The way the body was positioned gave the impression of a welcoming and comforting personality but the face had the emotions of hidden stresses and thoughts.

The owner of the notebook cleared his throat slightly and I was caught red handed.

"Sorry." I apologized and felt a blush creep into my cheeks.

"It's okay." He accepted my apology but the embarrassment was still drowning me.

"It's a really interesting drawing." I complimented him and then mentally face palmed at the genericness of it.

The male glanced down at the drawing and then back up at me, "You think?" He asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, that's why I was staring. I was trying to figure out the pieces of the story it holds." I explained, trying not to look away from his intense curious gaze.

"Huh." He commented, slightly impressed for some reason, "These idiots never looked at one of my drawings for more than ten seconds." He gestured to the still bantering males around us.

I chuckled, "Well, they can't be complete idiots considering you're all attending business meetings together." I told him and he tilted his head to the side, considering my point.

"Fair." He said and then paused, thinking, before adding, "Then they're idiots of the art world."

"That sounds a little better." I said with another laugh bubbling in my chest, "So, do you draw often?"

He shrugged, "Kind of. I do it whenever I feel like I need to let off steam or if I'm bored."

"Which one was it today?" I asked then wondered if that was borderline too personal.

"Boredom." He answered, nonchalantly, and added a few more pencil strokes to the shadows of his character.

"Train rides not your favorite?" I guessed with a questioning eyebrow.

"Not really." He responded, "I'm more of a car ride kind of guy. But the train was the fastest option for us, so here we are."

"You like driving through Seoul?" I questioned with slight shock because Seoul was a city where every hour was rush hour and every car was trying to make it to their destination in record time.

He chuckled in disgust, "Oh god no. I hate driving in the city. Makes me want to pull out all of my hair." He joked and a smile grew on my face. "But give me a long drive through the country, an AUX cord, and a few snacks and I'm all set to go for hours."

"You would go alone?" I asked.

He leaned in close so the others wouldn't hear him but my heart skipped a few beats. "These guys are idiots of the art world, remember?" He reminded me with a small playful smile.

"Right. I guess music counts as an art form." I stated, hoping he couldn't see my nervousness. He straightened back up and a tiny part of me was extremely disappointed.

"Exactly." He agreed, "Though Mingyu's not a bad companion, if I want one." He pointed across the aisle and a row back at a green haired giant.

My eyes widened at his hair color and I had to ask, "Why is his hair green?"

"He lost a bet." He informed me, a smile touched his face with the memory and he looked even cuter when he smiled.

"Poor dude." I exhaled glancing back at the green haired male as he laughed at something the guy next to him said.

"Eh, he actually suggested the punishment himself so..." The male next to me trailed off with a shrug.

"So, what's your name?" I asked suddenly, realizing I knew a few of the others' names but not once did I get to ask him his.

"Minghao." He stuck out a hand and I grabbed with a surprised smile.

"(y/n)." I reciprocated the greeting and pray he can't feel my racing pulse through my skin.

""And you're visiting family in Jinju." Minghao repeated what I told Seungkwan earlier and my lips pucker in surprise. He chuckled and pulled his hand away. "My ears still pay attention even if my eyes aren't."

"I can't do that." I said, resting my hands in my lap, "Multitasking like that is not my forte."

"Gotta focus on one or the other?" He asked and I nodded my head.

"If my eyes are focused on like my book," I rested my hand on the cover, "Or something, my ears tune out everything so I don't miss a single word."

"Is that what the headphones are for?" Minghao asked nodding towards my phone with the still plugged in headphones.

"Yeah, kind of." I answered and twirled the wire around my finger, "It's easier to tune out familiar sounds than new ones."

"Any particular sounds?" He inquired and set down his closed notebook on the table.

"Music, particularly." I told him and tried to ignore the giddy thoughts that screamed that he enjoyed talking to me. I also peeked at his hands and noticed he wasn't wearing any rings. Which could've have been a big indicator that he wasn't in a relationship with anyone considering every couple seemed to have couple rings here.

He gave me a wide smile and the action softened his facial features so much. "Any particular artists?" He reiterated his question using the same word we had been repeating.

"Jason Miraz is one of my favorites." I informed him.

"Oh, I love Jason Miraz." He said with bright eyes, "His style is just so cool and he makes great songs."

"His style is really, really cool." I agreed. "Have you heard his new album?"

"Did that come out already?" Minghao asked with widened eyes.

I nodded, "This morning."

"Oh dang, I didn't even know it was coming out this soon." He said and scratched the back of his neck.

I reached for my headphones and handed one to him, "You want to listen with me? I haven't made it through the whole thing yet either. Just the first couple."

Minghao cautiously grabbed the earbud out of my hand, "You're sure?" He questioned me.

"About sharing headphones?" I answered with another question, "It's fine." I gave him a reassuring smile and it seemed to relax him a bit.

I popped my earbud in my ear and then scrolled through my phone to find the playlist. Adjusting the volume so it wouldn't blow out our eardrums, I started the album from the top.

"How's the volume?" I glanced over at Minghao after settling the volume at a level I thought was comfortable.

"Good, good." He responded, still a little stiff.

Turning my head towards the window, I let the calm melodies and voice of Jason Miraz accompany the green country scenery that quickly passed by. Pretty soon, my eye lids began to grow heavy and my morning rush started to catch up with me. Before I knew it, I was nodding off with my head leaned back against the weird velvety seat. Jason Miraz's soft voice carried me further into sleep land.

Just before the haze of exhaustion turned into a dark abyss, I felt a hand lower my head until it met the hard curve of a shoulder.

I woke up to someone calling my name and it wasn't Jason Miraz's voice. Blinking my eyes open, I was still on the train and the country side was still passing by very quickly. My head was still pressed against a shoulder and then it hit me just who's shoulder I was leaning on. [Though you know Soonyoung was not going to let Minghao live down how sweet the action was.]

"We're like 5 minutes from Jinju station." Minghao's voice informed me and I sat up, trying not to be too sudden about it.

Running a hand through my hair, I checked my phone and the time coincides with the information given to me.

"I can't believe I slept through the entire ride." I chuckled at myself, still in shock.

"I'm surprised you slept through Seokmin and Soonyoung's screaming." Minghao laughed lightly and handed me the other half of my headphones.

I gathered the wire and picked up my backpack to shove them and my book back into it.

"Ugh, we didn't even get to talk about the album." I pouted, annoyed at myself for sleeping.

He giggled and it added itself to list of things I found cute.

"How about this?" He suggested, "We exchange numbers and we can discuss the album once you actually listened to it."

I puckered my lips in thought because dude just called me out for falling asleep in the middle of tiny listening party for a new album. But, the little jab did nothing against the desire to keep in touch with him. So, I unlocked my phone and handed it over with the contacts app opened.

"Deal." I agreed to his suggestion and he took my phone before quickly typing in his information.

"How was your nap?" Seungkwan asked, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward.

"It was unexpected and long." I answered him, zipping up my backpack.

"But was it at least good?" He questioned further and Minghao handed back my phone.

"I'd say it was pretty good." I told him and he smiled, content with my answer.

The train pulled into the station, which was the last on its route, and we all shuffled out of our seats. I reached up to the overhead storage for my still ridiculously heavy duffle bag but Minghao grabbed it before I could even touch it. Pulling it down, he held it out for me to take.

"Thank you." I thanked him with a smile that I hoped would cover up the toll that the bag's weight took on my body, specifically my arms.

"No problem." He nodded with a small smile.

The other guys let me walk off the train first and I didn't get a chance to look back or wait for them because my aunt was waiting on the platform for me.

"(y/n)!" She yelled and ran towards me. "Glad you made it! Oh! We have so many dishes to prepare. Come on, your mom's busy chopping up vegetables and claims she needs her sous chef ASAP." My aunt took the bag from me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders before leading me away.

I tried to look back for one last glance at the male who let me sleep on his shoulder but my aunt demanded all of my attention.

"Did you remember to bring all the stuff we asked?" She questioned me.

"Yes, auntie." I replied, "I even remembered the Christmas ornament, though it took me forever to find."

"Oh, you're amazing!" She squeezed my shoulder and we walked out of the station and towards her car.

As we made our way down the stairs, my phone rang with a text.

I pulled it out and a laugh bubbled inside my chest as I read the message from Minghao.

"I don't think Jason Miraz can save you from that conversation."

#kpop #kpop imagines #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen the8 imagines #seventeen minghao imagine #the8 imagine #minghao imagine #xu minghao imagine #xu minghao #seventeen the8 #seventeen minghao #seventeen imagine #seventeen the8 imagine #writer-k-pop

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arhvste · 4 years

Text

KUROO TETSURŌ - PERMANENT PLAN

➵ summary : ‘love’ a word with multiple meanings, given and taken in different forms and an untouched territory you’d always been frightened of. everyone’s temporary, so you didn’t need to know what love is anyway, but kuroo insists that he’s anything but momentary to you.

➵ genre : x reader - angst , fluff

➵ an : this was just a drabble that eventually became a fic, it’s something i’ve been playing around with in my drafts for a while but this was my personal perception of the world before someone showed me that the worlds a lot nicer when you see the glass half full rather than half empty and there are people who want you to be part of their permanent plan

➵ inspo : sincerity is scary - the 1975 - american money - BØRNS

Love.

The word the world seemed to revolve around. Such a trivial thing to you.

How could one rely on a single emotion so much? How could people find motivation to seek out a feeling that’s just meant to find you naturally and in it’s own time.

In a world with countless people, how could you be so sure you’d found ‘the one’? Surely there was always going to be someone who’d be a better match for you somewhere else.

How bothersome.

You’d watched friends insist they’d found their ‘one’ only for that to have been a lie a handful of months later when you’d get calls from them sobbing on the other end of the line.

Love seemed like an indescribable feeling to you. You were certain you’d never experienced it past family bonds and somewhat platonic bonds, but that was as far as your knowledge on the subject reached.

You were frightened of the feeling in all honesty. Untouched territory you’d refused and continually refuse to enter.

From the outside, love seemed like a good look to wear. People you knew insisted it was the best feeling in the world to become fond of a special someone, to experience all the clichè scenarios one could only read about in books. You had to admit, some of your friends wore it well. You saw a brighter side to them while they embraced the thrill of what they claimed was love. The world seemed a little more pleasant in their eyes during the time period they were going through the phases of these unexplored but seemingly exciting emotions.

That all came crashing down in a matter of time though. You’d seen it over and over again. The once praised and celebrated feeling suddenly unbelieved in and torn apart to shreds. The world dimmed a little darker than it was before and tears clouded visions.

The feeling of love then became distasteful to you. Not wanting to ever go through the shattering heart break you’d seen so many go through, you swore off long-term connections with the same people. Everyone had a time limit and in your head that was the safest option.

The plan you’d kept in action over the years was simple. Keep people at arms reach for a while and gradually let them slip off by themselves. Everyone was replaceable and everyone was temporary. The world moved on and so could you.

Over the years, your mindset slowly set in and people would come and go. Some would linger a little longer than other who’d sometimes disappear as quickly as they apperead. You didn’t mind though. That was what you wanted anyway. It was for the best.

Of course, the world will always throw a spanner in your personal works and this particular spanner the world had tossed your way came in the form of Kuroo Tetsurō, your neighbour and close enough friend of 3 years now.

Kuroo was someone who had been around longer than you seemed to keep others. He never questioned it, noticing signals that you weren’t the type to touch on emotions and feelings out loud, he let you get on with your life and was content with being kept just at arms reach to you.

For now he was anyway.

You didn’t go out of your way to talk to many people and people who you had previously called friends that now scrambled for meaningless small talk with you if you were unfortunate enough to run into them. The feeling of awkwardness wasn’t a personal favourite of yours, you often opted to stay close to Kuroo to avoid having to deal with forced conversations elsewhere.

You weren’t quite sure what it was about Kuroo that kept him in your life for a longer limit than others. Maybe he was a little more persistent than others. Or maybe he felt the need to stay on good terms with you since the two of you were neighbours and you’d already been introduced to his grandparents and father. There were various reasons you assumed were the conclusion as to why Kuroo hadn’t let you slip from his grip just yet, but you were always prepared for it to happen eventually after all, everyone is temporary and Kuroo Tetsurō was no exception.

Fridays were the days most people you knew would go out and let go of the stress pent up over the week just gone. To you, Fridays were a routine. You’d go to Kuroo’s house for dinner with his family and then yourself and Kuroo would head out to a field closeby and lay down a chequered blue and red blanket behind the hill that blocked out the city lights from the view over the farmland and talk for hours on end under the stars.

The scenario itself could be seen as romantic perhaps, but to you, it was nothing more than de-stressing with a friend. You had a right to let out all the built up frustration the same way everyone else did, you just did it in a different way.

Today was a Friday and you were glad. Glad you’d have two days off from cramming pieces of information you were almost certain you’d forget and never need to use again after exams. Glad you didn’t have to watch one of your friends whine about her ex boyfriend's new girlfriend. Glad you were going to be able to voice out these silenced thoughts that had formed and bothered you all week and receive no judgement for it.

“Ready?”

Kuroo was leaning against your locker like he would everyday when you’d walk home together.

“Yeah.” You hummed as he took his place beside you as the two of you strolled back to your neighbourhood.

Conversations on the walk back home always consisted of Kuroo telling you about training. Various stories about members on his team were retold to you and he’d always make sure to tell you every detail. You’d always listen and give input when he asked or given clear signs of implication he wanted it. That was something you liked about Kuroo.

You were transparent enough with each other.

Both of you were able to read the others behaviour well and knew what the other wanted. Kuroo was able to read you emotionally well and you hadn’t even realised it until this year. He always respected your feelings and situations regarding other people. He never once questioned your morals or ties with others and left you to your own devices. Sometimes, he’d test the waters a little and try to see if he could perhaps get something out of you.

Any sign that you would open up to him a little more, let him in a little more, anything he could get a grasp of. He’d always stop when he knew he had gotten as close as he could get to you. He never tried to pry the doors of your life open but instead waited patiently outside the door and would wait for it to slowly creak open every so often but still never taking it upon himself to increase the gap in the door when a crack was opened and letting himself in.

You appreciated that about him.

A part of you wished you could open the door a little more for him, but Kuroo Tetsurō was not an exception to your life and you’ve had to remind yourself of that a little more often in the recent days.

By the time you’d reached the Kuroo residence, he’d told you an amusing story regarding his best friend Kenma and teammate Lev who you knew was a first year. According to Kuroo, Kenma had been given the task to help Lev out a little more in training much to his demise. You found the story ironic given that Kenma had been unenthusiastic about the sport until recently he seemed to be a little more willingly involved.

You had assumed this was because the National Spring Tournament was approaching fast and this would be Kuroo’s last chance as a highschooler to attend and go far in the competition. To you it looked like Kenma was preparing to move on ready to acknowledge that Kuroo wouldn’t be competing alongside him next year. He wanted to make Kuroo’s last year worth it and even though Kenma hadn’t admitted it out loud, you knew enough about both his and Kuroo’s friendship to know that it ran deep and unspoken promises were constantly fulfilled in their tight bond. They had the type of bond you had previously wished to contain with someone a few years back but that desire was nowhere near as present these days.

Still, that didn’t mean the burning yearn had completely been extinguished yet. A small flickering flame was still alive deep inside of you, you just refused to ignite it further.

“Yeah, Kenma wasn’t thrilled with the new responsibility he’s been given but he’s still doing it and I know he’ll actually try to help Lev in his own way.”

“I’m sure he will Tetsurō.”

At this point, Kuroo was unlocking his front door as he concluded his story. A few more seconds of his messing with his keys and the door opened. He pulled the silver key out and stepped out the way to let you in first, bowing slightly as he did so.

“God you’re so pretentious.” You hummed as he snickered behind you and closed the door once the two of you had stopped inside and been welcomed by the smell of cooking food.

“Tetsu, Y/N! Is that you two?” a shrill but somewhat soft voice rung from the kitchen.

“No, it’s some thieves who are about to ransack your house!” Kuroo teasingly called back as his grandmother scoffed at him emerging from the kitchen doorway.

“Well, aren’t you just the stand up comedian today.”

You laughed and smiled at his grandmother whose face brightened as she caught sight of your face.

“Ah, Y/N! How was your day my dear? I’ve made you your favourite tonight so I hope you’re hungry.”

The older woman approached you as you nodded and smiled.

“I’m always hungry when it comes to your cooking.”

“Flattery will get you anywhere Y/N.”

“It’s not flattery, it's genuine.” you shot back at the older woman who only chuckled and wandered back to the kitchen.

“Didn’t know you knew what the word ‘genuine’ meant.” Kuroo casually said as if he hadn’t just exposed something so raw about you.

“What’s that meant to mean?” you quickly replied, irritation filling your senses.

Kuroo saw this and immediately surrendered. He’d already gotten too close to the line and you hadn’t even sat down for dinner yet.

“Nothing, nothing, just ignore me.” His tone stitched with the thinnest threads of guilt.

You frowned at him slightly but let it go. There was no point in getting so easily worked up especially when you knew the boy meant no malicious harm.

“Come on, let’s go up to my room for a bit, dinner won’t be ready for another 15 minutes I’m going to assume.”

You nodded and grabbed your bag to bring up to Kuroo’s room.

You liked Kuroo’s room, it was very; him.

It was clean but a small clutter of papers and books were piled and scattered along his desk. It amused you that his work area seemed to be the only chaotic section in his room. He was academically organised but his desk would tell you another story. That was just his work process you supposed, so you never brought it up to him. A bed with plain white sheets dominated the most space in his room and a stuffed dog sat at the centre of two pillows.

When you had entered Kuroo’s room for the first time a few years back, he immediately insisted that the stuffed toy was a childhood gift he’d grown attached to and he simply couldn’t throw it away. You smiled thinking about the sentimental side Kuroo carried and didn’t seem to mind expressing. He was very family orientated and liked things with meaning behind them. His stuffed dog ‘Chow’ (Kuroo had told you the toy’s name was a reference to his favourite childhood film ‘Cars’ as he would often repeat the iconic phrase “Kachow” when he was younger although the cogs in his brain were a little smaller back then, only being able to pick out the “chow” part of the catchphrase.), lived in the exact same spot at the top of the bed and between two pillows and Kuroo never failed to leave him there after making his bed every morning.

It was the little details like this that made Kuroo a little more interesting to you. Perhaps that was one of the reasons you didn’t mind him enduring his time with you a little longer than you usually allowed others to. He didn’t mind sharing little facts with you and was always open for you to read. He never went out of his way to hide things from you and always made sure the two of you were on the same page.

You placed your bag down on the floor, left side of his bedroom door as you always did and sat down on the bed. The mattress dipped as Kuroo’s weight followed after yours. He leaned over and grabbed his TV remote from his bedside table and switched it on to scroll through the various saved programmes the two of you would watch together. It was an unspoken rule that Kuroo wasn’t allowed to watch certain series or documentaries without you and he followed this rule obediently even though neither of you had voiced it out.

Instinctively, Kuroo selected the series the two of you were currently watching together. ‘Your Lie in April’ seemed like a good choice at first but Kuroo soon found that it was a lot more emotional than you had first anticipated. You usually kept your emotions in check and hardly let them show past brief happiness. Kuroo would observe that you always just seemed content. Not particularly happy but not sad either. You just seemed to ease your way through life and take each day as it comes. ‘Your Lie in April’ seemed to bring out a soft twinkle in your eye as particular scenes triggered something within you. A few days ago, you had told Kuroo the series was boring and you wanted to watch something else, he wouldn’t allow that though. He told you that you had started it so now you had to finish it regardless whether it was good or not. He liked to finish something properly and you had no choice but to understand that. His real intention was to see that unusual twinkle in your eyes a little more often. He hadn’t figured out quite what it was or what it meant yet but something seemed to be trying to break out, you just wouldn’t let it. He knew you had inner emotions, but when he’d been deprived from seeing them by you, he was desperate to witness any emotion that wasn’t your usually appeased aura.

“Tetsu, I told you this is boring!” you whined as the two of you sit back and let the intro play.

“And I told you we have to finish it! I want to know if Kosei and Kaori ever perform together!”

“You’re such a sap ew.”

Kuroo laughed and poked your side as the episode finally began to play. The two of you sat in silence as you focused on the screen. Kuroo would have to admit his attention was a little more on you than the TV but he couldn’t help it. The flicker in your eyes was back and Kuroo noticed that it would reappear in the more emotional scenes with the main protagonist. Maybe you related to the main character. He seemed pretty content with just getting on with his own life. He didn’t seem particularly happy or sad either until the girl, Kaori came into his life.

Kuroo liked to think he was your Kaori; without the dying part of course. He could only hope that he brought a little more light into your life even though you seemed to prefer the dim brightness. It didn’t matter to him though, he was just grateful you’d kept him around for as long as you had. He wasn’t stupid, he knew you had a tendacy to let people drift in and out of your life, not letting them stay long enough to make an impact. He was certain he had some sort of impact on you though. After all, you had been coming over to his house every Friday for 2 years now and you never once cancelled or complained.

He was sure that this tradition had been engraved into your life and he had made some sort of change to your routine. He didn’t need affirmation from you, he knew he had you somewhat hooked onto him the same way he had hooked onto you. Neither of you spoke about it though. The unspoken and lingering feeling of relying on each other was definitely present but neither you or Kuroo seemed to approach it head on and confront it.

That was okay though. As long as he knew that you could rely on him to at least keep you at the surface rather than letting you fall and drown into an empty pit you seemed to have been digging for yourself, he was okay with that.

After around 20 minutes, the two of you were called down to dinner. Kuroo paused the episode and switched the TV off before waiting for you to shuffle off the bed. The two of you headed downstairs to the dining room, elbows bumping into each other, Kuroo had a soft smile on his face as you playfully nudged each other down the stairs.

Kuroo’s grandparents were already sitting down and Kuroo’s father was just walking in at the same time. You smiled at his father and thanked him for having you, to which he only laughed.

“You don’t need to keep thanking me Y/N, you’re practically family now!”

Family huh?

While Kuroo’s father probably didn’t mean to stir inner conflict in you, he did. The statement sent waves through your system as you tried not to overthink it. Did they really see you as family? How were they going to feel when you’d eventually disintegrate from their daily lives? Would they be mad at you or would they not care?

It didn’t matter anyway. The same way everyone was replaceable to you, you were replaceable to them. You were certain Kuroo would eventually forget about you too, maybe even find someone better to spend his time with and give his undivided attention to. The feeling of rejection stung ever so slightly but it confused you at the same time. The whole reason you kept people at a distance from you was because you never wanted to feel the effects of rejection. So why was it starting to hurt now? You weren’t romantically involved with Kuroo and nor had you snuck out of his life just yet. He hadn’t replaced you and hadn’t given you any implications on doing so ever. So why was the feared feeling beginning to surface?

You did your best to shove down your growing concern throughout your meal. Talking and laughing with Kuroo and his family whilst you ate. Everything seemed okay and you thought you were doing a good job of compressing the unwanted affects your thoughts were giving you. Things went smoothly and you seemed normal on the exterior but Kuroo was a perceptive person and could tell throughout the whole meal that you were in battle with yourself. He kept quiet for the time being though and let you keep up your act a little longer. He’d confront you about it later when there were no other distractions or ears other than his for your voice to reach.

You thanked Kuroo’s grandmother for the meal and helped clean up the table and kitchen as you usually would. Kuroo’s grandmother would wash the dishes while you and Kuroo would dry them and put them away. He’d reach the shelves your smaller form couldn’t reach. “Teamwork makes the dreamwork!” He’d declare every week resulting in your eyes to roll and a sigh to leave your lips. “This is hardly teamwork, I can do it myself.”

Kuroo smirked and shook his head. “With the assistance of a chair perhaps but why go to those lengths when you’ve got a perfectly strong, tall and capable man here to do it for you instead?”

Kuroo’s grandmother would snort and make a witty comment back to Kuroo teasing him for his perception of himself and Kuroo would find himself with no reply as he had got his own wit from his grandmother and there was no answering back when it came to her.

20 minutes of cleaning would always go by fast and the kitchen would be back to it’s homely but immaculate state as the three of you worked efficiently.

“The blankets under the stairs in the cabinet, I washed it a few days ago so it should be clean.”

You thanked the older woman and Kuroo pressed a soft kiss to her cheek in appreciation. You snickered and teased Kuroo for being a Grandma’s boy but he’d only shrug and ask if you could blame him. You couldn’t in all honesty. His grandmother had been close to him and she always gave Kuroo the support and tenderness his actual mother couldn’t. She was a perfect substitute and Kuroo would probably claim that he was raised in the best way possible even if his family wasn’t exactly the typical cookie cutter family dynamic that others had.

You’d have to agree with him as you saw no faults in their family. His family figures had in fact done a good job of raising Kuroo right and they had every right to be proud of him and the way he’d turned out. You even felt a sense of pride when you thought about him. You’d never voice it though, never admitting to growing somewhat attached to the boy you’d never allow yourself to acknowledge it. You were not to keep anyone closer than arms length to you and Kuroo Tetsurō was no exception.

You and Kuroo padded up the stairs to his room where he tossed an oversized jumper in your direction. Your blazer wouldn’t suffice as protection from the cold and it was a pain to carry a coat to school as the days were warm, it was only in the evenings the temperature decreased.

He shrugged one of his own jumpers on as you followed suit. The slightly frayed ends reached past your fingertips as you brought them close to your face. It was clear this time, Kuroo had lent you a jumper he had shown a little extra love to. He must’ve worn this one more than the others and the strong natural and comforting smell of him lingering in the threads of the fabric only proved your hypothesis further.

Kuroo made his way over to you and took your sleeves into his hands and he rolled them up a little. Just enough for your fingers to peak out so you could use your hands without excessive material getting in the way. The small gesture was another thing Kuroo never failed to complete every week either. He’d always make sure your fingers peaked out his hoodies at least a little to prevent you from losing grip onto anything. He also liked the way your warm fingers would brush up against his as the two of you would walk next to each other. It was almost like your hands were teasing him to hold them. He’d thought about taking your hands and intertwining your fingers together as you’d walk over behind his house and into the field where you’d always sit in the same spot and just talk about anything and everything that came to mind. He had restraint himself from doing so however. He wasn’t sure if you would be comfortable with that and the last thing Kuroo wanted to do was drive you away or worse yet, have you cast him out further than you already kept him. For now, he’d just have to put up with you unintentionally testing his patience.

You had been walking, soft hums of passing vehicles in the background as the city lived on through the night. The sounds became more distant as the two of you trekked further away from the urban area and deeper into the more rural territory.

The hill the two of you would always sit behind came clearer to your vision as you approached it and walked around it rather than over it. You had previously told Kuroo you were not going to make the effort to hike over it and Kuroo just laughed and deemed you lazy despite the fact he had no intention of ever making the journey over the mound of land himself.

After striding through the grassy land, the two of you had made it to your spot. A green patch of grass that hid the lights of Tokyo behind you and gave you a clear vision of the stars littered above your heads. Kuroo laid the blanket down as you both took your seats on the ground as you let out a sigh.

Conversation would naturally flow between you during these hours, whatever came to mind was spoken and neither one of you would hand judgment for what was said between you. Kuroo watched as you still handled the inner conflict that had struck up inside of you earlier. While you assumed you were doing a good job of concealing your slight stress, Kuroo noticed you seemed a little less focused and more immersed in the world of your own. You hadn’t even noticed that he was staring and observing you and you mindlessly tried to witter on about something that had happened in class. You sighed and looked up the stars, a peaceful silence blanketing over the two of you. Kuroo was yet to bring up his observations of your behaviour but decided that now wasn’t the right time as he anticipated your next words.

You both tilted your heads up to the sky as the stars glittered contrasting the dark night sky.

“Do you ever consider that we’re like the stars Tetsu?” You softly spoke as neither of you tore your eyes away from the view above.

“In what sense?” he murmured back, not daring to look at you.

“In the sense of they're just scattered. They’re aimlessly placed and compete with each other to shine the brightest. People are just like that too.”

Kuroo hummed and angled his head to catch sight of your soft eyes momentarily. “Explain.”

You exhaled and closed your eyes briefly.

“No obvious place in life, just thrown into things and have to make their own way from there. Regarding the competition as to which star can shine the brightest, people compete in the world of hierarchy and often strive to be the best in their industry and shine the brightest for others to admire.”

Kuroo sat up properly and turned his gaze in your direction. You noticed this and looked back into his eyes that seemed to be figuring something out. A moment of silence was left between the two of you as Kuroo thought about your perception.

“But,” he began, eyes never once losing focus on yours. “Have you ever considered that a lot of these stars are contributes to constellations?” He contrasted against your point as you raised an eyebrow.

“Each star in a constellation is connected to another building a small community of stars together, some may not be as bright as others but they’re always there no matter how dim they can be. ‘Draco’ wouldn’t be ‘Draco’ if there was a star missing would it? Each star holds a purpose even if it doesn't shine the brightest.”

You didn’t miss the way Kuroo’s eyes desperately searched yours. He was looking for any signs of misunderstandment or confusion as he continued his point.

“So, I think yes you’re right about people being like stars, just in a different way to what you think. Everyone has connections and is part of some sort of community like the stars are and even if they don’t shine the brightest, people are always there to support and connect with you even if it may not seem obvious.”

Kuroo’s point seemed more like a personal examination and answer for you. He had figured you out and you hadn’t even realised till now. Did he know this whole time you had people so casually passing through your life? Was he aware that you were expecting the same thing to happen to him? You had no idea and you didn’t know if you wanted to know either. Perhaps he’d be mad at you for not making your intentions as clear as you thought you should’ve or maybe he wouldn’t care at all and he’d obliged and let you be part of his temporary plan as you had been on everyone else's.

“I know Y/N. You’re not exactly good at being deceptive, well; when it comes to me anyway.”

You desperately tried to think of an excuse.

Why wasn’t he laughing or mocking you for being so detached? Surely he must’ve thought you were a waste of time now so why wasn’t he showing signs of annoyance or anger.

“K-Kuroo -I”

“-Kuroo? I thought I was Tetsu. You can’t just back out now that I’ve figured you out!”

His voice had a tone of hurt and if you weren't so focused on him and his actions right now, you may have missed it. But you didn’t.

“No! No, it’s not like that it’s just- You, no-” You couldn’t think of anything to say to him. What could you even say to someone who had read you like an open book and done their thorough research on it. There was nothing you could say other than the truth now and you both knew this.

“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” His hand inched closer to yours as a calming expression met your own.

You inhaled and exhaled and cleared your head slightly.

“I’m only temporary, why do you care so much?”

There it was.

Your true feelings towards the situation and the people around you. But Kuroo wasn’t like the people around you so why was it hard to tell him? Then again, he was to be treated like everyone else in your life had been, as Kuroo Tetsurō was no exception.

“Who says you’re temporary?” Kuroo’s eyes widened as worry and regret washed over you. He had a sympathetic look to him and had a sense of sadness of his own. Did you really just think you were temporary to him? Did you think that way towards everyone?

He was prepared to confront you, expected you to tell him that you just fell out with people easily. He had no idea of the weight of the burden you carried and he certainly didn’t like you felt this way and let yourself be weighed down by it.

“Thats just the way it is.” your voice barely above as whisper as Kuroo looked at you with disbelief. He shook his head. His hand begging him to let it interlock with yours. He held off just a little longer. You were vulnerable and he refused to take advantage of that no matter how small the gesture seemed.

“Why? Why are things that way? Who told you they have to be that way?” his voice calm and collected with small pitches of sadness as he practically begged you to give him an answer. Maybe he hadn’t made as big an impact on you than he initially thought. Maybe he was wrong this whole time about what he was and was hoping to be to you. God, this hurt him just as much.

You shuddered and shook your head at the boy.

“I don’t want to know what love is. I don’t want to risk the aftermath of rejection. I’m scared Tetsurō. I’m so so scared.” A vulnerable look replaced the usual bored look in your eyes. Kuroo watched the way your fingertips gripped the edges of his jumper and the way you cast your gaze down. He didn’t like it one bit. Why did you feel like that? Had you been hurt before unbeknownst to his knowledge? He thought he knew you inside and out.

“Love...it’s scary yes but it’s exciting too. It’s unexplainable Y/N, I couldn’t possibly give you an answer as to what it’s like. I do know,” he gestured for you to look up at him. “that you will experience it in some form at some point in your life. It’s inevitable. You shouldn’t feel frightened though. That’s what other people are for. They’ll be there to pick you back up and dust you off if things do go wrong. The same way the stars connect together, people are connected and you’ll always have people to rely on.”

Nothing but genuine emotion went into his words and you knew this. So why were you still trying to fight it?

Kuroo picked up on this and sighed. He didn’t know this was the reason you had avoided letting people in. The reason seemed somewhat confusing but he also saw your point at the same time. You lacked trust in yourself and that was something Kuroo wanted to give you if you weren’t going to give it to yourself.

“I-I’m sorry! This is stupid I should’ve just kept quiet. I bet you think I’m a waste of time oh god, I’m so sorry Tetsu, this is why I don’t let people get involved with me.” tears threatened to spill but you’d refuse to let them. You’d done so well up until now. Nobody suspected anything when you’d gradually drift away but life is never that generous to let things go your way all the time. Kuroo Tetsurō was an obstacle you couldn’t beat and sometimes in life you have to admit to defeat.

“God Y/N, you’re not temporary to anyone especially not me! I’m not mad at you I just wish you’d rely on me a little more. I want to be part of your constellation I just don’t know if you want me to be.”

Tears brimmed your vision a little more and you could barely speak but managed the next few words out.

“I’m only part of your temporary plan, we all move on eventually and you will too.”

“You’ve always been a part of my permanent plan. Always have been, always will be. I don’t care in what way, but I’ll always want you to be a part of my life. I never intended on letting you go no matter how much you wanted me to.”

Without even realising it, your hand had edged closer and closer to Kuroo’s and you could feel the warmth of his hand close to yours. Your breath hitched as you took a deep breath before Kuroo continued.

“I can’t promise you a life of no disruption, I mean you’ve seen how loud my laugh is and you’re the only one who puts up with my irritating provoking for so long.” You laughed at this. “But what I can promise you is lessons in love. Let me not only teach you but let you learn with me. I have little to no experience but I have some idea of how it’s meant to feel and I’m pretty sure it’s how I feel when I’m with you.”

You sighed. “What am I going to do with you?” you murmered closing your eyes. A soft smile gracing your lips. The first genuine smile you’d given him since leaving the house.

“Take me up on my offer and let me take care of you. We’ll take it slow but I want you to know it’s okay to trust others and let them in a little.”

You looked down and noticed Kuroo’s hand had enveloped over yours. You liked the feeling of his larger calloused hand over yours. It felt right. This felt right.

You were unexperienced and anxious for now. Territory untouched now so close to your feet, but Kuroo wanted to step into that territory not in front of you, but alongside hand-in-hand with you.

“Take good care of me from here on out then.”

Kuroo smiled and gave your hand a light squeeze and you leant in a little closer to him as the two of you sat under the seemingly aimless but connected stars.

You hadn’t let a lot of people into your life. Everyone stayed a few metres away from the door and they’d eventually leave after they never seemed to open. Kuroo had decided to wait and in the end it seemed worth it. The doors had opened for the first time and that’s what told you Kuroo Tetsurō was in fact an exception.

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei

please send an ask to be added / removed from my taglist

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo fanfic #kuroo scenario #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenario #kuroo fluff #kuroo angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst

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old-notoyamato · 3 years

Text

This is something I wrote hit by the inspiration. Idk how to tag it because I wrote it with LU Legend in mind but work with the original alttp Link. Read it as you want.

TW: There is a corpse in the room. Literally. Nothing graphyc but this is about losing someone, mourning and how the traditions changed after Link wishes upon the triforce.

His uncle had told him that he had to sleep before the trip to his grandparents' farm, where he would be living from now on. "It's not that I want to get rid of you, Link," the knight's smile was clearly false. For him it had only been a bad dream, for the young man, several months of his life. (He was afraid of what he saw when he looked into my eyes) "But the country atmosphere will suit you better. Wouldn't you like to spend time with the grandparents and their animals?" Link had looked evil in the eye but he was still a child and he had no say in his life. Not entirely. He could decide not to sleep and sneak out in the middle of the night to go to the castle. To talk to her again. To say goodbye.

Taking a sword and shield with him was a reflex action. The night hid its dangers and he could not allow anyone to stand in the way of his mission: human or monster, though sometimes they were unable to tell each other apart. His footsteps stopped at the gate of Hyrule Castle before he took the path to the right. It was not safe to enter through the main gate. (I was neither knight, nor nobleman, nor hero to do so.) The secret passage was the only option, the one he felt safest with.

Getting around the castle was child's play (Ha) but that night it was easier than he remembered. He had encountered no one to hide from, no knights on guard, no maidens sneaking out of a room. All was an overwhelming silence that made his heart shrink. Something had happened and in his mind there was only one person. He had to find her, make sure that everything was all right, that she was safe (although my instinct told me to run, for that is the mind of a prey).

Something had guided his steps, for he did not enter any other room, he did not check that he was not somewhere else. He was there. There was nowhere else. The sacrificial throne hall. The most important place in the castle. And there she was. With her back to him, in a simple white dress, in front of the red velvet platform that had started the countdown (A dead end entrance).

"Thank you for coming, Link. I didn't want to disturb you but I was under the impression that you would come..." She hadn't needed to turn around to know he had entered the room, to recognise him. He stopped at a safe distance. He was only a boy but he had seen too many corpses already (I had seen my only family up to that point die in my arms) to know that the body lying on the platform had expired its last breath.

"I came to say goodbye... Zelda" He still struggled to pronounce her name, to show that closeness to someone he had heard more than seen, imagined more than shared. "Tomorrow I'm going north... Far away, to live on my grandparents' farm."

"The north... I'd like to visit it someday. To meet your grandparents" (I hope you'll forgive me, because although we went north it was too late to meet them) Link could hear in the silence the sound of handwork, of branches brushing against each other, of leaves being moved by the princess's hand.

"Of course... Zelda" The sound stopped and the princess turned so that she could look her hero in the face. Her blue eyes, the colour of the sky on a clear day were dulled by the red of sadness. There were still traces on her cheeks of the path that tears had created. (You were a child but you already carried a weight that was not yours to carry on your shoulders).

"..." The princess's fingers clenched tightly around the half-made crown she was working on, the words unable to leave her chest. "It was a few months ago, when Aga... the wizard took power" A lump materialised in the boy's throat. They had not spoken of what had happened, for to everyone it was a bad dream. The wizard's name had disappeared from Hyrule's memory, the hunger and hardship were only nightmares. The kingdom of Hyrule had always been prosperous, flourishing after the Hero's victory over evil more than 300 years ago (Better that way, I never wanted the glory or the title of hero).

"We were in this very room" Zelda turned to look back at the body "The wizard was right where you are" That comment made Link step forward. He wasn't like the mage, he wasn't here to hurt and use her, he was here to protect and support her. "I was preparing my father's body for the first time" And with that comment Link paid more attention to the body, seeing for the first time that it was the former king of Hyrule. He had only seen the king once, once he had recovered from his wounds and he had only commented on how children like him were the future of Hyrule (He didn't need to know that I had brought the future to the kingdom).

"...Why the flowers?" It wasn't the right question, it wasn't even the time to ask but even if he had fought to the point of exhaustion, in some respects he was nothing more than a child. "Tradition is a weapon to defend yourself, food to replenish your strength and a mask to go unnoticed" Even before his adventure Link was no stranger to death. Life in Kakariko was difficult, famine and disease made it hard to go on and that ritual was something everyone knew about, even the children.

The princess was silent before replying, "You... We... They.... Things have changed. Even death is no longer the same" Her voice sounded broken and the young man could only take another step forward, until he stood beside her, but not too close, a distance between them that made Link feel worlds away from the princess, while his eyes stared at the velvet, not looking up. "The maidens were alarmed when I offered to perform the ritual, as if I didn't have to know anything about it. And I really don't. The first time I armed my father for battle, and now... It seems he is prepared for the most important audience of his life: his best clothes, his beard combed and groomed, and some flowers as a final gift..."

There were no more words though and Link felt like a coward for not being able to move, not even to look up. He knew the princess was crying, though her voice didn't break when she spoke again "Why does it hurt so much if I've already lived through it? Why is it worse this second time if this time it was peaceful and painless?"

(Because you were crying for what you have lost again, because you had a small glimpse of happiness and it was taken away from you. Because you were afraid of the future, of not being ready. Because in spite of everything, you were just a child who demanded to be the adult you were not yet ready to be, even though you had lived a nightmare come true. Because we didn't know the consequences of what I had unleashed.)

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #alttp #alttp link #fanfic #not a big fan of tagging the original but it works both ways #tw: corpse #tw: death #heavy topics #my work

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ravenluvsppnbc · 3 years

Text

BECHLOE WEEK DAY SIX

alright, today was two different prompt options (maybe unless i’m just stupid?) and i chose the “neighbors au” because i enjoy a good friends to lovers storyline. so. here’s this. v fluff and get to know you type shit. but there are hints of homosexual activity. i didn’t have the energy to write anything too hardcore today. hope you don’t mind.

“Beca Mitchell sighed, exhausted, sitting down on a box in what was supposed to be her new living room. After the move, she didn’t have the energy to fully unpack anything or put her furniture back together. She only did what was absolutely necessary—like set up her cat’s temporary food and litter box situation, throw her mattress on the floor and unpack her toothbrush.

Atticus was running around like crazy, sniffing and meowing at everything in the house. Beca laughed. She loved how silly Atticus was. He always kept her life interesting. She thought she might as well unpack some of her clothes, which she had just begun to do when there was a knock at the door.

Beca opened the door to a redheaded woman and a little girl. “Hi?”

“Hi,” The woman said, gazing at Beca. The woman had never seen someone as beautiful. “Oh my gosh you're so pretty. My name is Chloe, Beale. And this is my daughter, Rory. We live next door. Not to sound completely crazy, but she heard your cat meowing.” Beca smiled immediately, also widening her eyes a bit. Atticus was that loud? “She was wondering if she could meet your cat? Totes cool if that’s not okay, she just loves animals.”

“I’m Beca.” Beca says, looking down at the girl. “Of course you can meet my cat. His name is Atticus. He’s not shy at all. Come on in, it’s a huge mess but don’t be alarmed by it.”

“Oh no worries, we’re used to messes.” Chloe says, stepping inside the house. Beca smiles, tiptoeing around the house in search for the cat. Chloe and Rory wait in the very unfurnished living room. “So where are you moving here from?”

“So embarrassing to say. Ohio.” Beca says from the other room.

“Ah. That makes sense. You seem cool.”

“Yeah. Old dudes, farmers and republicans aren’t really my speed. New York suburbs seems more like it. Plus I liked the look of this place. Good vibes were emanating from it.” Beca says, remembering when she first saw the exterior of the house. It was painted black and had white scallop trim and shutters. She felt so connected to it.

“Why Ohio?”

“Don’t ask me. I didn’t even want to be there in the- OH!” Beca exclaims, picking up Atticus, who had been hiding in the shower. “Here he is. Little jokester. He was hiding. So sorry about that!”

“Aww. He’s so cute!” Chloe exclaimed, immediately reaching her hand out for him to sniff.

“Can I pet it?” Rory asked, smiling so big.

“Of course!” Beca said, placing him on the floor in front of Rory. Beca and Chloe watch as Atticus warms right up. Atticus and Rory are already best friends.

“So, Ohio?” Chloe asked again. For some reason, she felt herself being connected to this girl, or wanting to be, at least. She wanted to know more.

“Right. I was born there and then we moved to a small town, where I spent most of my life, and that’s when I decided that I absolutely had to get out of there.” Beca explains, remembering her old houses and schools. “Even with college. I really tried to go out of state. Everything was just so, not me, in Ohio. I don’t know how my parents lived there so long. And my grandparents. Tons of Ohio family shit. Oh my gosh I’m so sorry. I’m not around kids much.”

“It’s all good. I struggle watching my mouth too. And I think she’s too distracted by the cat.” Chloe says, drawing both of their attention to Rory who was still playing with the cat.

“I think he gets bored of me. So where’d you move here from?” Beca asks.

“I was bored in Portland. I went to college in Atlanta. Way to move across the country. Twice. Yeah. Don’t know why I did that but it was totes worth it.”

“Sounds like it.” Beca says, admiring and also wishing for the nomadic life that Chloe has had. She wished she could be spontaneous.

“Yeah, just a few years after college I got pregnant with this little thing,” Chloe says, shifting her vision to her daughter. “Weirdest day ever. But also the greatest. Sometimes weird days are your best ones, right?”

“Definitely.” Beca liked the way this girl thought about things.

“And then when she was born, the whole gas station milk thing happened with her dad. But that’s whatever. I decided that maybe we should settle. Decent neighborhood. Good schools. She’s only five but dude, I have to plan ahead for that shit.”

“So sorry about her dad-” Beca says, somehow feeling like she’d overstepped.

“Don’t be. Nobody needs people who don’t want to be there.”

“Word.” Beca said. “But if you ever need help or someone to talk to, I’m literally always doing nothing. and I know we just met, so don’t feel bad turning down the offer-”

“Oh no absolutely,” Chloe interrupted. “I feel like we’re gonna be really fast friends.” Chloe felt weird. The new girl living beside her will be a big part of her life. She can feel it already.”

#bechloe week 2021 #bechloe #beca+chloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect fanfiction

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blissfulalchemist · 3 years

Note

wait who is hayat? pls tell us everything about them 😍

NONNY!!! You-. You inquire about MY good son Hayat???? Well Hell yeah you can know as much as I feel I can write without getting into circles. Sorry this took a hot second to get together but I wanted to make sure I had something fairly comprehensive for you and others that are curious!

Also again Thank you Ash for making the banner that shows his precious face.

To start off, Hayat is my Wayhaven Chronicles Detective oc. TWC is an interactive fiction game that’s set in a world with supernatural creatures and elements including 4 vampire romance options (you can even opt out of romance if you so wish also). It’s by @seraphinitegames and you can check out more of it there!

Okay let’s get down to it!

His full name is Hayat Khademi but many will also call him Hiya as he both enjoys the pun and helps in pronouncing his full name. I personally love the meanings of his name very cool. Hayat means “Life” and Khademi means “He who serves and cares”, which really sums up his core self, like no matter what happens he will always be someone full of life and wanting to care and help people.

Hayat was born February 29, 1988, yes on leap year so depending on his mood he will either tell you that he’s 7 or 30. His parents are Rokeddin and Tahmina (aka Rebecca in the books) Khademi. After his father’s death and his mom throwing herself into her work he was raised by his grandparents, with his grandmother Myza Khademi still alive. Hayat is also bisexual.

He had hopes of becoming an engineer so he could help the world with technology he created to solve problems people faced. He made it to college and it was 2.5 years in that he met Bobby Marks, a journaling major, and the two soon started to date. While dating Bobby would sometimes use Hayat’s assignments and pass them off as his own or even just expect him to write assignments for him. As Hiya continued on through school connections were made and he soon was being granted access to some of the assignment programs and where grades were entered, and sadly unbeknownst to him Bobby was using this to his advantage. When Hayat was halfway through his doctorate program Bobby got caught in altering grades and stealing assignments committing Academic Dishonesty. Since all of it had been traced back to Hayat’s accounts or his connections he was the one that suffered the consequences of Bobby’s actions.

Hayat lost everything he had worked for in an instant and had no other option than to move back home while he figured out just what to do with his life. Over the next 3 years he moved from odd job to odd job all the while shrinking his social circle to almost none and drifting from partner to partner. Hayat was working as a groundskeeper for his hometown when Tina bumped into him. While they didn’t interact too much growing up with her being 6 years younger than him, they still treated each other like friends and it was her that suggested Hayat join her in the police academy as there were some planned retirees in the Wayhaven PD. While not his life goal Hiya joined her as it at least was a position that allowed him to feel like he was helping people.

He remained a police officer for a year before the sudden retiring of the previous detective and Hayat being handed the job as he was seen as the most capable. It was the start of his new position that landed him in the path of Unit Bravo and his mother’s job. After his first case involved a mad scientist vampire Hiya was asked to join the Agency as Wayhaven’s Human Liason, like his father before him. Since accepting he can’t say that his life is monotonous or lacking thrills.

Hayat overall is a fun loving person that always has a smile, positive attitude, and pun to spare! He’s loyal to those he loves and finds himself brave despite not being the most capable. His strengths lie more in his ability to make connections with people due to his trust, openess, calm demeanor, honesty, and always trying to look for the best in people first. It’s his way of living and does connect to his Muslim faith, that does follow, and Persian culture, though he’d tell you that even if those weren’t factors he’d still live and act as he is.

To get to know him more I reccomend checking out his general tag here! Or even his character asks here! Or you can even check out a profile for him here!

If you would like to read him in action please visit his masterlist here! I apologize that I am missing a piece and at the writing of this plan on updating it soon.

To see his romance with Mason check out their ship tag here!

I am also open to any more asks if there’s something more specific you’d like to know! I’m also open to DMs!

Thank you so much for inquiring about my boy!

#hayat khademi oc #hayat chara ask #oc profile #I hope you get to see this nonny! its my own fear with anon is that you miss out what you ask!

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scandinavianfairytale · 4 years

Text

Mamihlapinatapai

Mamihlapinatapai (n.) - a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin.

(Origin: Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego)

"Dammit Ivar, I can't fast forward my commute. I told you, I'm on my way and I'll be at your place in half an hour." she yelled as she picked up his FOURTH call.

"You said that 31 minutes ago. At 17:34 you sent a message you'll be at my place in 30 minutes. It's 18:05 and you said you'll be here at six but the metro connection isn't perfect so you'll text when you'll get on the metro and to add 30 minutes to that."

"I swear, Ivar...you need to relax. The party will be great and besides no one is coming exactly at the agreed upon hour. So, take a deep breath, we still have 54 minutes to set everything up." She laughed as he cursed - another minute down.

"Where-" he was interrupted as the bell rung.

"I'm here." She exclaimed as she came up the stairs.

"C'mon, c'mon, get inside." He rushed her, grabbing her bags.

"Shoes off!" he barked as she stepped in his apartment.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." She waved nonchalantly at him as she took off her boots.

He rushed her to the open space where the living/dining room was to put her stuff on the couch, while he went down the small hallway to the kitchen. He grabbed two chopping boards and knives, while she put some music on, before she joined him in the kitchen.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into making a vodka bowl." Ivar grumbled as he was cutting the watermelon.

"Blame yourself. You wanted party ideas and I suggested some. Not my fault you decided on this one." She stuck her tongue out.

Ivar hollowed out the fruit and started cutting the meat and other fruits that would be served additionally to the bowl, while the 'idea master' started preparing the chocolate cheesecake she was known for.

She dipped her finger in the cheesecake spread and tried it.

"Perfect." She hummed.

"Can you put it in the freezer so it'll be ready sooner?" He asked, nervously looking at the clock.

"This is a party, get in the right mood, so you don't spoil everyone's fun night." She rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm relaxed." He crossed his arms over his chest. A sly smile graced her face as she took the bowl of chocolate cream, scooped a little on her finger and pointed it at his face.

"Don't you d-" he started but she was quicker then his warning. She started laughing as she spread the cream over his nose, her finger still extended. He grabbed her arm and pushed the finger to her cheek, smearing some of the chocolate cream over her face as well, making her stop. A small shock replaced a burst of laughter all too quick, Ivar participating in the lovely sound booming through the apartment.

The doorbell pulled them out of their laughter bubble as he rushed to the front door, letting everyone inside. Ubbe and Torvi stared at the relaxed, smiley figure in front of them and couldn't believe that was Ivar. But as soon as he yelled to take their shoes off they knew that was still Ubbe's baby brother.

The guests arrived one by one until everyone was present and the real party began. There was music, dancing, drinking, games, talking and most importantly food.

As always the night ended in playing Activity - 4 teams and everyone was competitive, most of all Ivar. And as always, she was stuck with him. She didn't mind as she found his competitive spirit and outbursts funny. Plus, they were on the same wavelength.

It was a tight race - Ivar took the last card, to wrap up the game. They were doing quite well, they were tied with the champions, Ubbe and Torvi, but Ivar was having none of it.

"Okay, you got this. We got this." Ivar cheered. Booze and almost winning pumped him up. Ubbe turned the clock and Ivar started moving, trying to show the word on the card.

"Person!" she yelled out, the alcohol made her louder. He shook his head and held out his hand. He then went on the ground to insinuate a smaller human holding the hand.

"Parent!" Ivar nodded. And then he stopped. He couldn't remember how to show the other part. He looked at the card again and then at the sand clock.

"Tick-tock." Ubbe mocked and received a death glare from his little brother. Ivar hunched and walked around.

"Bad posture?" Ivar shook his head.

"Deformity?" she tried, unsure.

He then showed the parent again and repeated the hunching move.

"Old?" She tried again. He snapped his fingers and circled his arms to insinuate to try new versions of it.

"Old parents? Parents that are old. Gra-"

"Time!" Ubbe yelled and Ivar groaned.

"Grandparents! Come on! She was just about to say it!" He tried, but Ubbe wasn't having it. Ivar slumped back in his seat and felt her patting his arm in condolence.

Ubbe and Torvi won the game at the end solidifying their winner status, which was also the perfect excuse for Ivar to throw everyone out. They made such a mess he needed to start with the clean up as soon as possible. The only one allowed to stay was her - she was also spending the night as she usually did when they had these get togethers. She lived far out of the city center and he was always a bit scared for her. His apartments always had at least a couch. This one even has a spare bedroom.

As they cleaned up, she poured them a glass of wine and they sat on the sofa, recreating the evening they had. Her legs twisted under her and her shoulder perched up on top of the sofa, while he had his legs on the floor. It made him nervous when he saw people put their feet on the couch, but even if he yelled, she wouldn’t listen to him, she was used to sitting that way. So the only option was that he got used to her feet on his couch.

"Thanks for everything today." He said with a smile.

"You're moving-in party was a success." She smiled at him.

"Thanks to you." She rolled her eyes at him.

"This was all your doing, I just supplied a comment here and there." She glowed, she loved organizing parties.

"We make a pretty good team." He commented, smiling into his glass. She nodded as she took a sip of her wine.

"I'm glad we're friends." He then leaned close to her.

"Is that so?" He questioned, his head centimeters from her. Suddenly it got uncomfortably hot and hard to breathe. It might have been the alcohol or maybe it was just the fact that he smelled so good, but she crashed her lips onto his. His hand immediately went to her face, mouths opened and their tongues met. The sweet taste of wine lingered on their lips, but the acid kick stayed at the ends of their tongues.

"Wait." Ivar ended the kiss. Her heart was racing, she could feel every beat all through her body. She coughed uncomfortably, but before she could say anything, he grabbed her glass of wine and put it on the coffee table, before grabbing her face and pulling her to him again. She shuffled and sat in his lap, his hands falling to her waist, trying to bring her closer to him.

"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to do this." He said in-between kisses as his hands roamed over her torso.

"Me too." She mumbled as she grinded on top of him, earning a groan from him.

"Wait. Wait. We need to stop." Ivar regained his senses. She stopped moving and looked him in the eye. She exhaled.

"We shouldn't do this tonight." She continued.

"Yeah...we both had too much to drink."

"And our judgement is a bit fuzzy..." He nodded.

"We should get ready for bed." He suggested and she climbed off of him.

"Well then...I'm off." she saluted, awkwardly and turned away. She quickly turned around and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

"See you in the morning." She winked and Ivar chuckled.

A little longer and a little steamy! 😳 Hope you liked it & thank you for reading! 🙏😊

The GIFs are not mine - a big thank you to the creators! 😊🙏

#ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar imagine #alex hogh andersen #vikings #modern vikings #vikings imagine #mamihlapinatapai #short story

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