#my mental & physical health has been bad for a couple months now so I couldn’t have reasonably expected to suddenly be great just because ����🏻

[floral-hex]

real sad boy hours

[chimivx]

TASTE. -> 'Haven' from the POV of Hyunjin. (Part Six of Six)

summary: 1998 is his year. He's sure of it. (With a bonus snippet of the future.)

word count: 12k

warnings: 18+, mentions of alcohol abuse, struggles with mental health themes, cursing, drug use mentions, sex is insinuated, physical violence between male friends is talked about, if I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

a/n: I don't even know how to say goodbye to this. This has been two years of my life. Thank you to everyone who's been on this wild ride. <3

more about Beomgyu and his family in NMWID.

“You can take this, and you can sit down,” Felix’s voice carried through his kitchen, our kitchen, as he handed Seungmin a pitcher of water and waved him away. “You haven’t slept in thirty six hours, you’re nuts if you think I’m going to let you do too much.” Laughter followed, pulling a smile out of me.

From the kitchen table I heard Changbin reprimand the boy as well, telling him again and again how he’s been working too hard, too much. Glancing their way from where I stood at the counter plating a couple dishes, I couldn’t help but laugh. Seungmin had all eyes on him, and several different people doting on his every need. 

Felix, setting the table up making sure he had what he needed in front of him. Changbin, filling up his glass with water when he set the pitcher down. Jeongin, unfolding a napkin and laying it across his lap to protect the scrubs he hadn’t changed out of yet. Changbins girlfriend, Yeri, who he’d been seeing for over a year now fussed over Seungmins messy hair, jokingly brushing it away from his forehead like a mother. Jisoo, Jeongins new girl of a few weeks, sat back, watching the chaos unfold before her.

“You didn’t even change your clothes,” Yeri nagged, and Changbin agreed with her. The two were a perfect pair, Yeri knew how to match Changbin’s playful side perfectly. She plopped beside her boyfriend and narrowed her eyes toward the nurse. “Don’t tell me you haven’t eaten today.”

Seungmin, sipping his water, nearly choked, planting the glass down with persistence. “I didn’t change my clothes, you think I had time to eat!? Why do you think I’m here!”

Insistent messy chatter erupted once more, the table full of so much life my cheeks hurt from smiling. Taking the plates to the group I sat them down, the finishing touches, and relished in the happy sounds from every mouth. Wasting no time they dug in, letting Seungmin fill his plate first, taking turns helping each other with their portions.

Folding my hands in front of myself, I stood a foot away and watched them indulge. Taking in every smile, every compliment, every little piece of this evening that brought me comfort, and I pocketed it with the intention to remember it on a bad day. Seungmin, Changbin, Jeongin… Friends who stuck by me through the worst. The last two years that pulled me through the ringer, a challenge in every waking moment. Yeri, who slipped right into our dynamic with ease, becoming everyone's mother, and Jisoo who I’m sure will slip into a role at any minute. They were my people. My family.

And then, at the end of the table, an empty chair beside him, sat Felix. A smile resting on his lips he watched me watch them. The blonde, baby faced Aussie, love of my life.

A month after our decision to take our time we dove headfirst into the deep end. Neither of us could help ourselves, certainly not when you spend every waking second together. Though, I won’t lie, the beginning was rough.

After Minho fought dirty and I was able to go home, Felix took me to my apartment. Changbin followed and helped us inside. Once things were deemed safe, and I was somewhat okay, he headed out for the night knowing I had Felix to look after me. I had a shower, that I’m ashamed to admit Felix took with me, a platonic shower. Nothing happened, he may have kissed me, and I may have kissed him back, and I may have had to sit on the edge of the bathtub because it was hard to stand for so long, but it doesn’t matter!

He helped me into bed and he laid with me, and I watched him fall asleep. Those long lashes brushing his freckled cheeks tore me to pieces. That night they weren’t enough to keep me where I was supposed to be, in bed, next to him.

Awake for hours, my mind raced, thoughts I couldn’t even begin to put together now that I’ve worked them out with Namjoon, the therapist I’ve been seeing for two years. He’d been able to fix most of what had happened, even though Felix tells me it was I who did the work…

The thoughts were coming toward me rapidly, faster than ever, and we still don’t know if it was purely just a panic attack or if it was the aftereffects of what had happened to me, and the oxygen to brain thing. I was near hallucinating, hearing my father, seeing him… Wondering if the fight had really been between Minho and I, or he and I… Your mind is the scariest place to be trapped in.

Living through this before, I knew only one way to cope. And it wasn’t by waking Felix up. 

I snuck out of bed, almost toppled to the floor, and inched my way into the kitchen to that goddamned cabinet that was still full of my vice. Felix will tell me he found me before it got too bad, I don’t really remember anything after rolling off my mattress. Part of me thinks he’s saving my feelings by telling me it wasn’t bad, and that he himself doesn’t want to relive it by telling me the truth.

I forgive him for that. 

We ended up in the emergency room anyways, so protecting my feelings or not I know it was awful. The only thing he’ll tell me is that he took me there because he loves me, and they were the only people capable of keeping me safe. I stayed there for a few days, and then I was sent back home.

Great system. Really, really great system.

It felt like I had been thrown straight back into the nightmare I had been living for a year. Sleepless nights, unable to leave the apartment, drinking myself unconscious… Was a wonder why Felix signed himself up for this trainwreck so quickly. Through the start of my hours in therapy it soon came to my realization that Jade was never the main issue like I had thought she was.

Did she cause some of my distress? Yes.

Did I cause most of her distress? Yes.

Did we both deserve that? No.

The main, huge, horrific issue that bitch slapped me across the face was my childhood. A topic that took months to unravel, and is still being unraveled. A terrible thing to uncover and relive, truly.

But, I’ve been sober for three months now so something must be working.

I find joy in having my friends, our friends, over for dinner once a month. Moving into Felix’s home at the start of this year it was his idea to start the tradition, to keep us all close. No one found interest in Haven anymore, so it was a win win. Our home became the spot for them to loiter, the couches for them to snooze on, the fridge to raid. And we loved every second of it.

It brought me genuine joy now that I could process it clearly.

Felix pulled out the chair beside him and wiggled a finger at me toward him. Giving him a small smile and a nod, I backed up to the fridge first to grab us drinks, not realizing Jisoo had beaten me there. She let out a quiet laugh as I bumped her with my back.

“So sorry,” I breathed, whipping myself around, taking an appropriate step back. Flashing me her heart shaped smile she shrugged it off.

“You’re good,” she pulled the fridge open and quizzed the selection with narrowed eyes, flashing me a look. “What are you drinkin’?”

Folding my hands over my front like they had been, I tilted my head and said, “I can grab it, don’t worry.”

A smirk grew on her pink lips as she eyed me. Reaching into the fridge she fumbled with a box for a second, then handed me a beer before grabbing two for herself. “Here, it’s Jeongin’s favorite, try it. We brought a whole case, he won’t miss one.” With a quick wink and a push of the fridge door, the crop top, jean wearing girl with long dark hair sauntered away, leaving me with an ice cold bottle of beer in my hand.

She’s lucky beer wouldn’t be my first choice.

It did look good though, the label talking about some brand new flavor supposed to be as crisp as ever… The brown tint of the bottle was all too familiar. It was a twist off, too. We didn’t have any bottle openers in the house. This one would pop right off in my hand. It’d be cold going down, and if the label told me the truth, it’d chill me out in seconds.

But, I didn’t need to be chill right now.

I was already chill.

She put this in my hand without knowing a thing. Our friends were allowed to bring their own drinks over, knowing we never kept any in the house, we allowed them to bring what they wanted as long as it left with them. No one offered me any, no one made a big deal over where to put them or whether or not they had to hide them. 

I could control myself.

Changbin has lessened what he drinks around me, but I don’t force him to stop completely, he’s done that on his own. He tells me he’s started doing it for himself, but I know after watching me do what I’ve done I’m the reason why. Seungmin never really enjoyed drinking, but he’d have one occasionally if the day was special. Jeongin, the youngest of us all, compared to Changbin.

And Felix, he’s been sober since that one night at Haven where the two of us were first shoved within that tiny bathroom stall.

Opening this, drinking it, would undo three months. This is the longest I’ve gone without a single sip since I was probably fifteen years old. I felt proud of myself. It felt like a major accomplishment, and everyone around me seems to think so as well. On the date, Felix took me to dinner. Changbin and Yeri called, Seungmin stopped by before his nightshift, and Jeongin got to me a day or so after when he could make it by the house. He brought me pink frosted cupcakes and couldn’t stop hugging me.

I was going on month four. If it was to end with dinner with my boyfriend, phone calls and hugs from my best friends and pink frosted cupcakes… I wasn’t about to fuck it all up.

A deep, beautiful, lilted laugh from the table confirmed my decision.

I popped the beer back in the box and grabbed two cans of Sprite, then hightailed it over to my gorgeous boy. Pressing a kiss to his head, I cracked his open and slipped it into his hand. Amidst the chatter he glanced at it, smiled, then looked up at me. 

This was what we’d bring each other in moments of gratitude. A reminder of all we’ve done, all we’ve been through, all we continue to get through, day by day. An ‘I love you’ of sorts.

Major props to Namjoon for suggesting we implement something special into our lives for occasions where words won’t give it justice. Something only Felix and I would understand.

Bending over halfway, my hair shielding his face from the room that paid no mind to us, I caught his smiling lips in a soft kiss, one that’d last me until the hours of night after our friends have gone, when I can finally take care of him in ways he always deserves.

Turns out he really is a good teacher.

“Got a question for you, better answer now!”

Changbin had a beer in his hand. On his feet, his chair pushed out from behind him, he held it in the air as the table sang back, “Yeah!”

Yeri sat backward, a hand covering her jaw as she laughed at her boyfriend, shamelessly singing along with him. Looking over at her Changbin pointed and shook his head.

“No, no!” he shouted, a shit eating grin on his face. “You’re the one who loves them so bad!” The three boys around the table were goners along with Yeri, unable to resist the energy Changbin filled the room with, their laughter loud and entertained. A smile rested on my lips, I didn’t sing along, but I was enjoying the show.

“Am I original?” Changbin leaned toward Yeri, acquiring his ‘Yeah!’ from the people who actually listened to this song. “Am I the only one?” Another ‘Yeah!’ sounded around the room, and with each word he closed in the space between him and Yeri. Then, he slipped around the back of her chair running a hand through her hair before he popped next to Felix, laying his head on his shoulder as he gave me a funny look. “Am I sexual?”

Raising my brows, my laughter finally cracked through, his aim of the game. I joined in the final ‘Yeah!’ and he shouted with glee. I wasn’t dumb, I knew who the Backstreet Boys were, Felix was obsessed with them much like Yeri was. He loved Kevin Richardson, or whatever his name was, which blew my mind because Nick Carter is right there. Not that I paid attention to it or anything.

“You like this song.” Felix’s smile still had the power to flip my stomach in cartwheels. Changbin hummed from his shoulder and pursed his lips. 

“Do not,” I huffed, looking around the table. Jeongin sipped his beer and hummed the rest of the song to himself and Seungmin who took part in tapping the beat with his glass.

Changbin shared a devious look with Felix, Yeri giggling from her chair.

Together they both sang, “Rock your body right!”

Everyone sang, “Backstreets back…”

Lifting my gaze, planting it on my grinning, hopeful boyfriend, I raised my almost empty can and gave them what they wanted. “Alright!”

Felix lurched forward and grabbed onto my arms while Changbin held his up in triumph. “Hyunjin loves the Backstreet Boys!” 

“Do not!” I sneered at my best friend, a smile pulling at my lips the entire time. Working his way back to his seat, Changbin finished his beer and shot me a glare.

“Do too, Mr. Nick Carter,” he said. 

Seungmin smacked his hands together and laughed. “Are we shocked?” He gestured to Felix and the Aussie blushed. “He’s got a crush on that guy from Titanic, too.”

Felix giggled. “Leonardo DiCaprio.”

“Yeah, him,” Seungmin said, sitting back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

Jeongin narrowed his eyes, his attention on me. “Blondes,” he half whispered.

Holding up my hands, feeling my cheeks flush, I looked hurriedly from Felix to my friends in defense. “Whoa, whoa, hold up, I do not have a crush…” Felix took one of my hands in his.

“Darling,” he said, smooth as butter. My walls fell quick. “You have a type. And, you do have a crush on Leonardo DiCaprio. We went to see that movie in theatres three times, and I knew it wasn’t ‘cause it’s your new favorite love story.” He tried to copy my voice and got everyone to laugh.

Locked into his eyes, I nodded. “I do have a crush on Leonardo DiCaprio.” Felix danced a finger around my palm looking at me like a lost puppy.

“You do, don’t you?” he asked, and when I nodded again, our friends answered with laughter.

“That,” Changbin held out his beer toward us, gathering our attention. “I love that, when you do that.”

Jeongin snickered. “You mean when Felix makes him all gushy?” Seungmin and Yeri agreed.

Trying to shake his hands away I sat forward and furrowed my brows. “Hey!” I’d lost the bark in my tone over these last few months. Everyone will tell me it’s a good thing. “I do not get gushy, you jerks! I am still…” Seungmin cleared his throat and pointed to Felix with his eyes. Turning my head, Felix’s eyes were slightly wide, his brows somewhat flipped.

“Keep going,” he said softly. Sitting back, I shook my head a bit and reached for his hand. One graze of his thumb over the boney back of my hand and I was down for the count. Then, a smirk grew on his lips and he threw our friends a look of success. “Twice!” Laughter roared from every corner of the room.

Groaning, I took a hand to my forehead. I couldn’t hide my smile, I knew it, too. He had me wrapped around his finger. Leaning over to him as our friends tossed around the discussion some more, my lips ghosted his ear and I whispered to him a promise of what I’d do to him later if he stopped his teasing. I’d never seen him straighten out faster, his cheeks going pink.

The best part of it all, we were equally wrapped around each other's fingers.

“Who’s got a kid?” Jisoo called out as she rounded the corner into the kitchen from the dimly lit hall. Felix’s grip tightened on my hand ever so slightly, but it didn’t stop my heart from sinking into the floor. The girl wore an innocent smile, unable to read the room as she sat down beside her boyfriend, having only gotten up moments prior to use the restroom. Jeongin threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in, whispering paragraphs into her ear.

This poor girl must’ve not been briefed before she walked into the building. Her smile wiped away halfway through Jeongin’s lament.

Changbin held up his beer once more. “Mr. Hwang Hyunjin,” he said with pride. Yeri smacked his bicep, not that her tiny hands had any effect over his insane muscle.

Jisoo lifted a hand to her lips, her eyes going wide. “I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head, her gaze darting between Felix and I. Jeongin, lips pulled into his mouth, gave us an apologetic look. Seungmin simply refilled his water and watched everything go down. His eyes were heavy, he’d be leaving shortly if he wasn’t crashing on our couch.

To everyone's surprise, I was calm. Turning my chin to peek at my boyfriend who was studying me, I asked between us, “Jeonghan’s door is open?”

Tracing circles into my palm, Felix poked his tongue through his lips and bobbed his head. “I don’t think you closed it when you put his new clothes in there yesterday.”

The room was my choice. My decision. Everything that went on with it, my choice. I usually keep the door shut. These past few weeks I’ve been keeping it closed unless I’m going in to work on it, or add something, or fix something.

Most of his shelves were stocked now. Clothes, shoes, hats… Anything that made me think of him while I was out, I bought. He’s even got clothes for when he grows up, when he gets bigger. Some of my stuff is folded in his drawers, old clothes from middle school and high school I’d kept in my possession after all this time, just in case. 

I never knew what for. I wasn’t sure why I held onto the stuff that could somehow hold meaning until he was born. June 8th, 1997, the day I knew he’d be getting everything I own, everything that meant something to me. He deserved it all.

When I had moved out of my house before college I didn’t think to take anything with me other than what I had, what I owned personally. So many things that belonged to my mother, even my father, were all left behind, and now it's one of my biggest regrets. I have some photos of my childhood, some photos with my mother, but I longed to have something that belonged to her. Either something she wore, or something she loved.

Felix would reassure me and tell me how I am what she loved, and that’s enough, but I had plans to reach out to my family, her family, just one more time. Her younger sister, Jihyo, had to have something. If she did, Jeonghan would one day get that too.

Jeonghan. The name of my grandfather. My mother’s father. Essentially the man who saved me by sending me to college, getting me through years of school. The man who gave me my mother. Another regret… Not spending more time with him, or putting the effort in to see him more. Sometimes I wonder if my mother never got with my father would our story be different. She was raised on and around love, and ended up with him anyway.

Throughout this whole therapy process it’s been fun and somewhat bittersweet to learn how much I am exactly like her. 

I don’t want to know what she'd have to say about my situation now.

I feel like I can hear her when the days go quiet.

Get that baby back.

Don’t you leave that girl alone with your child, he’s yours too.

You can do this. You can make it through this.

Fight for him.

There wasn’t a day in my life that I’d ever think about one day becoming a father. It was never in the plan. And, when I didn’t have a plan, it was never a thought. Who in their right mind would want to have a child with me? Two years ago, who would want to have a child with me?

And so, she did.

It was last January, 1997, I was here in the house on the couch sipping on a cocktail beside Felix with the radio playing and the phone rang. I was too tipsy to get up and logically answer the phone, so Felix did it. The call lasted no more than thirty seconds, and he appeared in the doorway to the living room like he’d seen a ghost.

He had told me it was Changbin, and that he had just spoken to Chan. Bahng Chan, Jade’s best friend. He took my glass from my hand and sat next to me, taking my arms in his hold. Chan had spoken with Han, who had spoken to Minho. Jade was pregnant, and she didn’t know who the father was.

Apparently it had taken them a while to get a hold of us, and to this day I don’t know how much of that reigns true. If they hadn’t gone through the grapevine in true Jade and Minho fashion they would’ve gotten to us straight away. Then I learned it had something to do with the both of them not wanting to deal with me. At the time, even through my drunk blindness I could see how immature that was.

A week or so later I met Minho face to face for the first time since he tried to kill me, though he’ll say that wasn’t the case. Jade had accompanied him, and Felix accompanied myself. In a doctor's office, bright, white and sterile, I couldn’t look at her. I didn’t speak two words to her, and it wasn’t because I was hungover. Stunned by the whole idea that this child could belong to me, the one that already made a little bump in her belly… I couldn’t fathom it.

That night Felix almost had to take me back to the emergency room.

And so, he was mine!

Now, one would think she’d take the easy way out here and do what she had to do to be rid of me like I longed to be rid of her. Why would she do this knowing that for eighteen years we’d be connected? We hadn’t seen each other in five months, and sure they weren’t awesome five months, but they were better than they were. Not having to see or deal with one another was the best thing to happen to us.

Not for nothing, her boyfriend tried to take me out.

But, that wasn’t the case!

Things were a mess until he was born, and even after he was born things were a mess. Nothing got better until this summer. Three months ago. After two years of me only hearing things through phone calls she’d have with Felix we were standing side by side in the parking lot of the grocery store down the street from Haven. I was a tad tipsy, it was a bad time. I had bottles in a bag and I was about to get into the driver's seat and take myself home.

I can understand why she’s been the way that she’s been.

Jade tried to hand me over a child support agreement from her lawyer that she pulled out of her front seat. I didn’t even hear one word of her reasoning, or why she was attempting to involve me when she had been going through Felix all this time. In fact, I said that to her. Angry, I yelled. Alcohol in my system didn’t really help my case. I ripped the paper in half and threw it on the ground. Once I was in my car, the bottles in the passenger seat, I swallowed my nausea and broke down. I sat in the parking lot and cried for an hour.

That’s when I realized I was ready to move the fuck on. 

To grow the fuck up.

Only three months ago.

Jeonghan had a room, and I took care of it. Felix helped me when I asked and in turn would offer me a hand if it seemed I needed one- which was often. I could count on both hands how many times he’s snuck his way into the sky blue bedroom quietly and wrapped his arms around my waist and laid himself along my back to hold me while I cried. 

He read me the instructions when I was forty five minutes deep into building the crib that would flip into a bed whenever Jeonghan grew big enough. Felix left me in the room alone when I started to take the box apart, though I’d catch him tiptoeing by the door every so often. It wasn’t until I was on the floor, hair tied back tight, holding two different pieces of the baby’s furniture that he decided to slip inside and start reading aloud where to put what.

Over the last three months I’ve put together a space for him I was proud of. To do it with Felix made it all the more special.

It’s been over a year. My priorities are straight. 

I could be a dad.

I want to be a dad.

Felix would make a great one. Leading by his example, I’m sure I could too.

The house was vacant just shortly after ten o’clock. Seungmin took himself home an hour before everyone else, by the time Changbin was on his seventh song he could barely keep his head up. Thankfully he lived close by or else I’d be offering a ride home. Yeri ushered Changbin into their car before anything by Tupac could come out his mouth.

The poor guy wasn’t over it.

We fear he never will be.

With a kiss on Felix’s and I’s cheeks Yeri took him home, asking us to wish her luck, making sure the rest of her boyfriend's bottles were in his possession before they pulled away. Jeongin did the same while Jisoo held a gentle touch to my arm and spewed endless apologies for her fumble at the dinner table. The sweetest girl, she admitted her ignorance, that things between her and Innie were brand new and that she was trying her best to impress us.

Felix, accompanying Jeongin around the kitchen straightening things up, gathering their case of drinks, shot us a couple smiles. It wasn’t everyday I held up a conversation with someone I didn’t know for longer than a month or so. Jisoo seemed to care, and with how she latched onto Jeongin’s arm and fluttered her lashes toward him when he took to her side, I accepted that she was alright.

“You are in trouble for letting me do those things,” she said to him.

Jeongin, eyes shooting open wide, gestured between her and I. “I didn’t… It’s just that’s his business, I didn’t know… How am I in trouble? I was-”

“No one is in trouble,” I smiled at them both. “She’s cool,” I had said to Jeongin. “If she’s sticking around she can know.” Felix later gently scolded me for potentially beginning a lovers spat between the two. Flashing him a mischievous grin I pulled at his lip with my thumb and kissed him like I’d been longing to all night.

Though it didn’t last long.

We had a kitchen to clean and a house to put back together. Dishes were washed and dried while he sung the goddamned Backstreet Boys to himself, and the floors were swept and the table was wiped while I swallowed my smile, not letting him know how much I really fucking loved hearing him sing the goddamned Backstreet Boys to himself. Dancing around one another, moving in perfect rhythm to reset our lives that were happily disheveled for the evening, we ended up down our hallway in front of Jeonghan’s bedroom. The open door I forgot to close after I put his new clothes away in his drawers.

This was normal.

One of us, usually me, is standing here, staring into the vacant space, wondering when he’d come around to fill it. Live in it. Wondering when I’d be allowed to show it to him. Allowed to bring him here, bring him into our life, teach him, hold him.

She wouldn’t let me have him.

And not one part of me could blame her.

“She doesn’t hear anything you tell her,” I mumbled, leaning into Felix’s touch at my side.

Felix pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Keep talking.”

“I hear you on the phone,” I continued, gazing at the blue striped sheets on the mattress in the chestnut wood crib. “Leaving messages, even talking to him. Neither of them believe you.”

Taking a deep breath, keeping his hand over my back, Felix said, “A lot has happened. They weren’t here next to you throughout this last year.”

“No, they weren’t,” I spat, looking down at him. “They were playing house with my son.”

“Hyunjin,” Felix said, tone steady. “He’s Jade’s son, too.” He may as well have reached into my chest, grabbed my heart, and squeezed it until it stopped beating. I knew he didn’t mean it. He was the voice of reason, my voice of reason, why I’ve been keeping such a good track record lately. “She’s his mother.”

A sigh fell from my lips, one in relation with a cry. “I wanna be his dad.”

Gripping the fabric of my shirt Felix gave me the tiniest smile, then lured me into our bedroom. “I know, darling,” he whispered. 

Moving in the quiet, the peace, we readied ourselves for bed, handsy as ever without a single word spoken as we brushed our teeth and washed our faces. Like clockwork, after I took my hair down, he gave me the little white pill from the tall orange bottle in the medicine cabinet and kissed the back of my hand after I’d taken it. Lacing his fingers in mine he pulled me to the bed and threw the covers back, the two of us cozying up in the center, a plethora of pillows surrounding us now that mine lived here too.

“The last time I spoke with Rachel,” our lawyer we’ve been working with, “She told me that in another month they’d revisit… All of it.” Felix laid himself over my side, his cheek fitting perfectly into the valley where my neck meets my shoulder. “It’s been a month. I’ve been sober longer than that. You’ve told them that.” He tilted his chin to look at me, his eyebrows a bit low. “You told them that, the last time they called. When… Yesterday?”

Felix was our middle man. He had to be our middle man. Jade refused to talk directly with me, but she had to contact us somehow. He’s given them so much advice, so much of our money, and he’s heard updates about Jeonghan that he’d relay to me if I was in a good mood. Curious how she’d keep the child away from me, but then slip things to Felix in a hushed voice as if she was hiding it from her fiance.

“They still have a lot to work through, Hyunjin,” Felix said. “For them it’s been over a year.”

“Okay?!” I huffed. Too harshly I might add, because Felix moved when my chest rose. “A year ago I had a foot in the grave.” He didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked back up at me, and I down at him. “They have a lot to work through,” I sighed.

“They do, give them time.” Felix kissed my shoulder. “You’ve been doing a really, really good job, Hyunjin. Give yourself some credit.”

Three months was good. I felt good. All of the people in my life agreed.

I have been doing a good job.

I just prayed it’d all be worth it.

“You’ve put together his room so that when the time comes you’re prepared,” Felix’s voice fell to a whisper. Gazing down at his loving brown eyes, I couldn’t fight back my smile. “He’s got bath toys waiting for him under the bathroom sink. Sippy cups in the cabinets.”

I was prepared. We were ready. We could do this.

“We need a high chair,” I breathed, lurching forward, turning over so I was facing him.

Felix giggled, the sound painting my cheeks pink. “We’ll get one. We can go this week.” He smoothed a hand over my cheek and drug his thumb beneath my bottom lashes.

“Thursday?”

“Thursday.”

Graco. Graco. Graco.

The aisles stretched on for miles. Felix kept up with my pace at my side, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Boots squeaking on the scuffed tile of the store's floor, I messed with the long sleeves of my black shirt and darted my eyes across the shelves, dodging the occasional mother with a hoard of children surrounding her.

We’ve nearly circled the entire store, after being in this building only two other times, I had no idea where to go. I wanted the best. Jeonghan had to have the best.

“Y’all need some help?” A woman asked Felix and I as we turned around a corner into an aisle full of bottles and kitchen stuff. Scanning the things hanging along the walls, I sighed, and Felix stepped around me, his sunshine charm overcoming her.

With a soft smile he asked, “Do you happen to carry those Graco high chairs?”

Her short brown bob that curled perfectly beneath her cheerful cheeks bounced with delight as she nodded. “‘Course we do, hon. They’re all anyone wants right now, but you might not find them out here.” She gestured around her. “Let me give you a hand, follow me.” Bustling by, she had to turn her chin almost all the way up to smile at me. 

Prime customer service. I wasn’t on the receiving end of an uneasy look. Felix got the smiles, the random extroverts swarming to his side if we were out and about. I usually lingered behind like some kind of shadow until he’d decide whether or not the person was worthy of our time, then he’d pull me into the conversation.

This lady, no older than forty, in a red dress with strappy sandals on her feet didn’t seem to care. Her smile was friendly. She could see me. 

“Who’re we looking for?” Asking us questions as we weaved through the aisles toward the back of the store, Felix and I shared a few looks as her curiosity strangled us. “Baby shower gift? Who’s having the little one?”

Approaching a quieter part of the store, I gulped and pressed my hands to my jeans. “For my son,” I said, and my heart leapt out of my chest. A smile pricked my lips as the woman turned with a grin on her cheeks. Felix, looking between us, wore pride on his face. Though I watched him try to hide it.

“How wonderful,” she said. Taking us through a makeshift wall of boxes, she gestured up toward a few Graco high chairs on the top of the piles of other brands, a place only I’d be able to reach. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she laughed, holding her hands up to spot me as I shimmied it off the wobbling towers. Light in my arms, I shifted the box to my hip and shrugged, unsure of what to say.

“Can’t tell you how often he has to do that for me,” Felix laughed, which in turn made the woman laugh as well. “Thank you for the help.”

“No worries,” she said, eyes flickering from Felix to me. “So, where is the little guy?”

Blinking, I glanced around at the other boxes and names of brands that were somewhat familiar to me now, I said, “Probably at home with his mom.” 

“Probably,” the woman let out a single laugh. She was trying to make jokes, I knew she was, but that didn’t stop it from making me anxious. “Don’t you know where your son is?” I could hear it in her voice. It was a joke. A joke. She didn’t know what happened. She didn’t know me at all. Felix rubbed a hand over his jaw, his head turning from me to her, waiting.

“Uh,” I stammered, looking away from her as I said, “His mom and I aren’t… together.”

She was unphased. Without missing a beat she said, “Oh, I see, so this is for your place.” Intaking a breath, I nodded my head. Felix crossed his arms over his chest. “Listen, I get it. My sister had a baby with a boy she went to school with. They were both young, yanno? They were a disaster. They couldn’t have one conversation civilly, it was argument city, I swear.” Gulping, electricity sparked in my veins.

As if Felix could feel it, he took a step closer to me all while trying to be polite and listen to this woman's life story. She made herself comfy, leaning against one of the boxes.

“My sister, God bless her, she thinks she’s better than everyone,” she rolled her eyes. “I liked the guy, sure it was unconventional and our mother was mortified, but he was nice. It wasn’t his fault he was swamped with school, trying to work, and now having a child on top of it all. They got married, and he tried so hard, but my sister, she wasn’t having any of it. Poor guy couldn’t hold a job because he was so busy, so she took the kid away from him.”

I couldn’t feel my breath through my lips. “Where is he now?”

“I still see him around from time to time, he’s stayed in the area for the time being,” she shrugged. “He’s doing alright, but I think he’s waiting for her to come back. I saw him a couple of weeks ago, he’s living in Delo. We caught up at the grocery store, he asked me how I was, he asked me how his kid was…”

Felix took a hand through his hair, spinning in a small, slow circle. He wanted this to be over, I could feel the energy coming off of him. 

“Did you tell him?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I didn’t have much to say,” she said, adjusting a dangling earring hanging from her left ear. “My sister moved into Tamoe when his daughter was, like, five. She’s dating someone else now, she’s barely talked to any of us, her family, since she moved. Can’t even tell you the amount of guys she’s tried to be with between him and the poor sap she’s got now. He’s got a kid, too. She can barely handle one, can’t wait to see what happens when she’s dealing with two of them.”

“He has no idea, the… the daughter's father?”

She shrugged. “I told him everything. He deserved to know whatever I could give him. That’s his flesh and blood. Like I said, he’s a good guy. A good guy who bad things have happened to.”

My blood ran cold.

“Thank you for this,” Felix cut in, taking the highchair from my arms. The woman gave him a pleasantry in response and propped a hand on her hip. “Ready, darling?” Looking up at me, stepping almost in front of my gaze that had fallen to the floor, empty, Felix tried to smile.

Looking to the woman before turning on my heels, I caught her curious eyes trying to figure us out.

Once we checked out I darted from the store with Felix again trying to keep up with my pace. I could feel the lightning in my veins. Sick to my stomach, I couldn’t stop myself.

“Do we want to stop by Jihyo’s today? We’re closeby, we can head there now and then get lunch somewhere?” 

My lips were glued shut.

“She said she’s got clothes and stuff, I know that,” Felix continued, placing the box into the trunk I opened for him. It was a small space, the trunk of the blue sports car I had revived back to life, but thankfully it fit. “Beomgyu’s grown out of everything,” his laugh didn’t make me smile this time, “And, she has toys on toys he doesn’t want anymore.” He looked at me with the sweetest grin. “Toys she said he wants to give to his baby cousin. It’d be nice to go see them, Jungkook was asking for you.” That kid had a bit of my mom in him, too. Jihyo and my mother were almost identical. Seven years between them, they were best friends. Raised as best friends. She never got to meet her nephews. It was up to me to bring her to them, my responsibility to keep that bond there. Unlike my failure with my grandfather, I intended to do my best with Jihyo and her kids, but I didn’t make any promises. Part of me knows that Jihyo knows that.

But, I mean, Beomgyu was adorable. An ankle biter that screamed when he spoke. Jungkook was a cool kid, too, and hearing he was asking for me filled me with some sort of joy. They didn’t have their father around, so it really was up to me to stick around. It wasn’t my intention to fill that role, I didn’t want to act as a father to them, but within these last three months I’ve learned what a huge hole it is that I’m filling for them.

One that I wanted with my own son.

“Please don’t internalize anything that woman was saying,” Felix breathed as we slipped into the car. “I didn’t think we’d get a life story today. Don’t internalize it.”

“I’m not,” I grumbled.

Felix tugged his seatbelt over his chest and shot me a look. “I know that face, Hyunjin.”

Clicking my own belt into place, I started the car and tried to smile at him. The sarcasm was evident. “She could take him.”

“Court won’t let her do that,” Felix said, always ready with the facts that seemed to slip my brain. “She can’t move far away from you. She’s got full custody, but you still have some boundaries.” His voice lowered drastically. “You didn’t give everything up.”

I scoffed. “I was drunk when I gave it all up.”

“And now you’re not,” he added quickly. “Now you can think clearly. That story that lady told us is not you. It’s not going to happen to you.”

“Felix, they’re engaged already!” I snapped, throwing my hands up. “What the fuck do you think happens next! She’s never wanted to stay here, around here. Minho, either. The two of them are probably already thinking about getting on a plane.”

“Take a deep breath,” he said, calm as ever. “Please. Let’s talk this out.”

A scary feeling I didn’t like roiled in my gut. Jade could take him and run. I could lose him forever, and with what the court already knows about me, it wasn’t looking good. My fingers gripped the steering wheel as I backed out of the parking spot and started for the road. Everything Felix was saying was going in one ear and out the other, I couldn’t hold onto any of it.

She was going to take my son.

She was going to take Jeonghan away from me.

“The next time you go to court everything will be revised. All of it.” Felix truly was incredible. His voice never shook. Always level headed, he looked at things realistically. Something I could never do. “They’ll see the progress you’ve made, we’ll bring everything with us, and maybe they’ll reconsider visitation.”

At a stop sign, I waited for pedestrians to cross the street, then mumbled, “Mm, visitation. Good idea.”

I turned the other way, away from our home. Felix sat forward.

“Don’t you dare, you take us home,” he said. “I’ll call her when we get there.” I kept going. None of what he said got through to me. I was driving to Minho’s. “Hyunjin, this is not the way to do this. You’ll put yourself in a deeper hole. You want things to get better, you leave them alone and let your lawyers do their part. But, in order for that to happen, you have to do your part.”

I couldn’t help myself. Blind with sickness, deaf to all worries.

I didn’t even know if anyone would be home, I hadn’t been here in years.

Pulling up into the driveway next to the Range Rover that ruined my life, they were home.

A conversation. I just needed to talk to her.

Felix tried and tried to keep me in the car. But, I couldn’t stop.

Slamming the door shut I hurried for the stairs, but the back door to Minhos flew open before I could get up a single one.

“What the fuck do you want, Hyunjin?” Jade spat, her stance wide at the top of the stairs as if she was trying to block me from barging inside. Looking up at her from the ground, I drug my tongue across my bottom lip and tried to smile.

Three months was a long time. I looked different than the last time she saw me, more aware. She’d be able to tell I was better, doing better. 

She looked good. Beautiful, as usual. Her cheeks were a tad fuller, her hair tied back, but still flowing with life, and she wore her pajamas. I’ve interrupted a quiet morning. My heart squeezed. She was glowing. A mother.

Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, I grabbed onto both railings and lifted a foot to the bottom stair, hoping to appear as casual as possible. She copied me, planting her hands on the railings. Eyebrows low, living right above her bright eyes, she was angry.

“Answer the question,” she spat, her eyes going sharp.

“Not even a hello,” I sighed, feeling the jerk come out of me. Trying to will it away, I kept trying to smile. “You’ve changed.” It fell from my lips before I could stop it.

“I haven’t heard from you in three months, you don’t deserve a hello,” she said. Twisting my brows in confusion, I gave her a look. She’s spoken with Felix weekly. She’s heard about us, about me. “What the fuck do you want, before I call the cops.”

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side and whispered, “I want my son.”

A loud, humorless cackle of disbelief escaped her. Tossing her head backward, she sighed heavily and couldn’t hide her fury that manifested as a maniacal grin.

“You’re unbelievable,” she said.

“I want my son,” I said a bit louder, tightening my grip on the posts. She was laughing, and I was totally serious.

“Then you should’ve called the judge,” she threw in my face. “Three months, Hyunjin. Thats a lot of time to miss, you broke the fucking agreement, and now you show up without permission, which is also against the agreement, and demand me to give you my son.”

My son.

She was going to take him.

“Our lawyers alway said that if we could work it out on our own we wouldn’t need to go to court,” I said, confusion laced in my voice. Her fingers dug into the wooden posts.

“I’m dealing with you, I have to go to court,” she grilled. “My son is a year and three months old. He's going to start recognizing who is and isn’t around.”

“That’s why I’m here,” I shrugged. Groaning audibly, she laughed again.

“It’s damaging, Hyunjin,” Jade shook her head. “You come around every few months like he’s a dog who’ll be excited to see you no matter how long you’ve been gone. He's a baby, this shit is psychologically damaging and I won’t let it happen to my son.”

“Our son,” I smized, knowing the words would get under her skin. The jerk was here. If she was going to take him, this is how it would be. “Jeonghan. You named him after my grandfather. My mother’s father.” She hardened her glare and clenched her jaw.

A laugh came from the house, the door behind Jade. A baby’s laugh, Jeonghan’s laugh, my sons laugh. The most beautiful sound I think I’ve ever heard. 

He wasn’t in the house alone. Of course he wasn’t, babies couldn’t be left alone. Minho was here. This was his house. Jeonghan was in there, laughing with the guy who walked away from me while I was unconscious on the floor. Because of him.

“Oh, wow, he’s actually home?” I scoffed. “Thought he took any chance he could get to go to work. I heard flirting with customers for tips doesn’t make you much.” 

“You should really get your facts straight before you try to piss me off,” she said, firing back quickly, raising her brows. “Where do you get your information from? Minho hasn’t worked at the bar for like six months.” Prodding my cheek with my tongue, I shook his head and glanced away. 

He was in there with him.

“Let me have him, I’ll bring him back tomorrow,” I said, shifting only my eyes over to her. The buzzing beneath my skin threatened to bubble over.

She grinned and nodded toward the car. “You even have a carseat? A crib? Bottles? Formula? Maybe a stroller?” Opening my mouth to speak, she cut me right off. “What do you even need him for? You didn’t want him!”

Slamming my fists into the posts, I wanted to scream, and I did.

“What if I want him now, dammit?!”

Horrible idea, really.

The door creaked open behind her, and he came out. With Jeonghan in his arms. A bottle was in his mouth, he was holding it himself all cozy in Minho’s hold, fitting right in the hook of his arm.

“What’s going on?” Minho asked, looking down at me with disgust. 

Jeonghan. My baby.

Dark hair brushed over his head. His cheeks were soft, squeezable, and how I longed to get my hands on them. He was awake, alert, his deep brown eyes looking up at Minho, the man who’s been, hopefully, caring for him the last year.

“I don’t appreciate the noise,” Minho nearly growled. “Especially while there’s children present.” 

Snapping out of my gaze, I rolled his eyes.

“It’s ten in the fucking morning,” I said, glaring at him.

“Language?” Minho furrowed his brows.

“Please, you live with this one,” I pointed to Jade, “She’s no fucking Mary Poppins. When did you get so soft, Min?” 

Titling my head to the side, I smirked. I forced our past out through my glare, reminding him of all he’s done with one singular look in milliseconds.

“A lot changes when you become a father,” Minho narrowed his eyes. “But I don’t need to explain, you already get it, don’t you?”

Stepping up onto the bottom stair, I opened my mouth, ready to unload his life before him and Jade, vocally express what he did to me, because I know the sweetest, most awesome little fun fact.

Jade has no recollection of what he had done to me.

She doesn’t know.

The man holding our son wrapped his hands around my neck, obstructed my fucking airway until I was out cold. Then, from what I’ve heard, Chan grabbed him and took him away. Minho left me there. Chan ended up coming back, that good guy curse, and checked in with Seungmin to make sure I was breathing. Then, he was gone.

Minho left me there.

Jade left me there.

She didn’t know.

The passenger door of the car slammed shut, gathering everyone's attention from the porch.

“Hyunjin,” Felix called out to me. “Let’s go.” He shared a look with Jade, as if he was apologizing to her. My heart began to crack in two, more than it had when Minho brought Jeonghan out to the porch.

“Really?” Jade frowned.

Felix shrugged. “I’m sorry,” he said, giving his head a small shake. “I tried to stop this.”

“Always,” I groaned, rolling my head backward. “You always have to take her side.” Felix took three steps closer to me, folding his arms.

“I do.” Looking back at Jade, his eyes flickered to Jeonghan for a second, a breath corrupting him, then he looked back to Jade. “Y’okay?”

“Be a lot better if I had a warning,” she said. Closing his eyes, Felix shrugged and shook his head again. 

“We weren’t coming here,” Felix muttered, sending a glare toward me, but I was grilling him right back. “Let’s go. I told you how to go about this, this isn’t it. I’m driving us home.”

Behind Jade the baby cooed and shifted himself around in Minho’s arms to look where Felix’s voice was coming from. The bottle fell from his lips, Minho catching it quickly before it rolled onto the ground.

Jeonghan lifted a finger and pointed toward Felix, uttering a quiet, “Who?”

It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.

I could see his whole face now.

God, he was my mom.

He was me.

But, he wore Jade in his face, his shape.

Sharing a look with Minho, she took a breath and said, “That’s Felix.”

“Vee-liss,” Jeonghan tried to repeat, making Minho chuckle and my stomach roll. His inquisitive little eyes scanned his surroundings, and once they found Jade he reached out his arms. “Mama,” he cooed.

Mama.

I felt like melting to the ground.

She scooped him into her arms and swapped her smile for a cold glare when she looked down at me.

He was… everything. I couldn’t take my eyes away from him.

No words could begin to describe the foreign warmth in my chest.

“He's beautiful,” I whispered, not wanting to disturb his peace as he looked around the yard. 

Sighing, Jade nodded.

“He looks like you,” I said, pulling my eyes away from the baby for half a second to look up at her.

She scoffed and pulled a silly face. “Not in the slightest.”

I laughed, and Jeonghan searched for me. His big eyes met mine for the first time.

Breath hitching in my throat, I smiled at him.

He lifted a finger to point at me and asked, “Who?” 

A lump formed in my throat.

My own flesh and blood.

Jade gulped.

No one seemed to be able to speak aside from the one year old.

“Who?” He asked again, looking to Jade for instruction.

“Jinnie,” she muttered as Jeonghan was about to ask for the third time.

Placing one hand on her shoulder and the other over her heart, Jeonghan looked at me and gave me a once over. I wanted to laugh, but I shoved it away.

“Chi-nny,” Jeonghan said.

“That’s me,” I breathed.

“Chi-nny, well, Mama,” he said, his tone sad, laying his head down on Jade's shoulder.

“Time to go inside,” Minho suggested, smoothing a hand over both of their backs. Eyeing his hand on Jeonghan's back, I furrowed my brows.

“Why?” I asked.

“Jinnie, yell, Mama,” Jade repeated clearly for me to hear, bobbing her head with a sureness.

“What!” I screwed his face up in confusion, raising my voice.

“He remembers you,” she shrugged.

I sucked in a breath. “Remembers… me?”

She rolled her eyes and said, “We were in the parking lot of the grocery store. I was picking up his birthday cake, you were visiting the liquor store next door.” I broke my gaze and looked at the stairs. “It was the first time in a long time I’d caught you, so I tried to give you the paperwork.”

“You took it from her, ripped it to pieces and screamed in her face,” Minho added. “While this one watched from the window.”

Jeonghan turned around to look at Minho, a grin breaking out onto his chubby cheeks. “Dada,” he cooed, holding out a hand toward him.

What?

Whipping my head up in a flash, I burned my eyes into Minho’s.

“Really?” I grit my teeth. “Kid calls you Dada? I’m half of him, and I get Jinnie?”

“Hyunjin,” Felix said, taking three more steps toward the stairs. “Let’s go.”

I took a step, getting closer as I rose on the stairs. Behind Jade, Minho pulled her aside, taking her place at the top of the staircase. His arms fanned out to hold onto the railings, asserting his dominance.

“You don’t deserve that title,” Minho grilled, narrowing his eyes. “And last time I checked, you aren’t listed on the birth certificate, did you forget about that?” 

I did. I was drunk.

I shot Jade a glare, Jeonghan watching me from her hip.

“Did you forget the kid’s a product of her cheating on you?” My expression broke out into a grin. “Remember that?” I took another step up the porch, and just before I was eye level with Minho, who’s temper was rising by the millisecond, Felix was grabbing onto my wrist.

Minho’s grip on the railings relaxed, color returning to his knuckles as he said, “You’ve gone soft, Jinnie.” Teasing me with his own words, the nickname, what Jade used to call me, stabbed me in the chest. “Felix wear the pants now?” he said while Felix pulled me down to the grass. Felix hit him with a glare.

“Sorry, Lix,” Minho said softly after a look to Jade, shaking his head.

Felix wrapped an arm around my back and parted his lips to speak, until a car whizzing down the street took the scene. It came to a screeching stop at the curb.

He needs to get that fixed. Chan.

“Wonderful,” I chuckled, grabbing onto Felix.

The car door slammed shut behind him, his expression angry, on defense as he started up the lawn. 

Felix sighed in frustration.

“We’re leaving,” he raised his voice, holding a hand up to Chan.

“Damn right you’re leaving,” Chan said, puffing his chest, stopping beside my car.

Jeonghan shouted, “ANNIE!” 

Snapping my neck, he was sitting up in Jade’s arms holding his out to Chan. Angry Chan waiting for us by the car, who was here to see angry Minho standing on the porch with my son. Jade was angry, too. They were all so angry.

Felix pulled me to the car. I couldn’t feel my fingers, or my face.

We were leaving, and Jeonghan was staying here with these angry people.

“Let me get the door for ya,” Chan snickered, yanking the passenger door of the sports car open. Felix ignored him.

Gripping the edge of the door, resisting Felix’s attempt to sit me down, I frowned, watching the porch. My baby was up there, and I was leaving him here.

“Darling, in the car, please,” Felix whispered to me. “I promise you, we will fix this. I promise. But, I need you to get in the car.”

“Need some help?” Chan questioned, rounding the door to grab onto my arms, yanking them off of the door.

I snapped.

Tearing my eyes of off my son I pushed Chan away by the chest. The smirk he wore spurred me on. Throwing a hand back, somewhat of a fist, I tossed it toward him, but he caught it, and he laughed.

Flinching, Felix groaned and shoved Chan backward himself with his hip.

“Fuck off!” he shouted at him. “Chan, fuck off!” 

Holding his hands up, Chan smized and took two steps back.

“I like this Felix,” he said. “Control your man, yeah? You leave my family alone.”

He got me in the car.

I couldn’t breathe.

Felix got in the car, and took my hand. “Deep breaths.”

Wet hair dangled on my bare shoulders where I sat at the kitchen table with a cup of green tea in front of me. Feet tucked up onto the chair, my arms were wrapped around my sweats, my chin resting on a knee while my gaze rested on the table.

Felix moved about the kitchen, putting dinner together for us to share. 

He didn’t sing.

We didn’t talk about what happened. The drive home was silent, aside from my breaths. When we arrived home he helped me out of the car and into the house. We spent too much time on the couch, me buried in his chest, sobbing.

I felt stupid.

It was stupid, no matter what positive affirmation Namjoon or Felix wanted to feed me.

What the fuck was I thinking?

After a shower, I found myself here.

“I’m sorry,” I said, interrupting the peace that had made itself comfortable around us. 

Felix glanced up from the counter. “Don’t be,” he said. “You’re allowed to hurt.”

“But…” Sighing, I dropped a leg to the floor and sat up, stretching a hand across the table to hold onto the warm mug of tea. Felix watched me grab it and take a sip.

“Tell me,” he said when I put the mug down, recognizing I’d need help pushing the words out.

“I shouldn’t… Shouldn’t have lost my temper,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I should’ve listened to you. Shouldn’t have gone there, at all.”

Felix pursed his lips, focusing back on his work at the counter. “Do you regret it?”

Thinking to myself, I placed a finger between my teeth and glanced about the room, his house that was turning into ours as the days passed by. I shook my head. “I don’t. Is that horrible?” He didn’t answer, he only encouraged me to keep going with a smile. “I liked it when you used to tell me what I was feeling, and if it was wrong.” Dropping my chin, I shot him a look out my lashes and he laughed.

“You have to tell me, darling,” he shrugged. “I’m not allowed to do that anymore. You know what you’re feeling, you know if it’s wrong. Though…” his voice trailed off, and he danced his gaze upward in thought, “If you care so passionately about something, and you’re fighting for it… I don’t see how it’d be so horrible.”

The smile that found my lips made him roll his eyes. “Thank you.”

He jutted the knife in his hand toward me. “That was not me telling you how to feel.”

“Sure,” I winked, and the knife almost fell to the floor. He caught it, flustered, and brushed the moment off with a gentle laugh. 

Standing to my feet, I made it a point to drink more of the tea Felix had made me before I took myself to his side, dragging a finger over the back of his hand that worked the knife. He paused, smiling, and gave me a look over his shoulder. My eyes, glued to his hands, avoided his. Wrapping my other arm around his front, I stood behind him and rested my weight against his back, letting my hand live over his, working with his as one.

Laying my cheek to his hair, I basked in his warmth, allowing my other hand to slip beneath his shirt, resting over his belly, keeping him close to me.

“Twenty seconds,” I whispered, and he stopped moving altogether.

Without another word he had spun around in my arms, slipping his around my shoulders, yanking me into his grasp. His fingers slid into my hair, keeping us pressed cheek to cheek until I dropped my head and buried it into his neck, my hands pressing into the small of his back. I could feel him taking deep breaths, the steady beat of his heart keeping mine in the same rhythm. Soon enough I was breathing in time with him.

Twenty seconds came and went, but we didn’t move.

Not until the phone rang.

Felix expressed his disappointment with a sigh as I pulled away. His brown eyes, shinier now that they were full of tears, gave me the sappiest look. 

Tipping my chin down, I placed a finger beneath his and lifted his lips to my own. “I love you,” I whispered, my heart erupting into flames within my chest.

Felix kissed me one more time, smiling. “I love you.”

Leaving him for the phone, the loss of his warmth killing me internally, he turned himself toward the counter to continue his work. A steady hum started to come out of him. I prayed he’d start to sing.

Lifting the phone off the wall opposite Felix, I rested my hip against the counter and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?” I asked, voice more lifted than before as I took in the view of Felix’s backside. A smile found my lips when he began to bop his head to his own voice.

“Hello? Hyunjin?”

The phone nearly slipped from my grip.

“Jade?” I choked out. Felix whirled himself around, eyes wide.

“Yeah, Jinnie, it’s me.” Her voice was quiet, and partially broken. Felix was by my side in seconds with an open hand.

“H-hang on, Felix is here, here, I’ll give-”

“No.” She cut me clean off, stopping me. “I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you.”

~ july 5th, 2021 ~

“You should not have come with me,” I muttered as I pulled my car up to a stone edged curb where dozens of other SUVs were parked. The unnecessarily big house was decorated in pink balloons, streamers and banners alike. Music pumped from the backyard, we could hear it over our radio. An offended sort of laugh came out of my son.

“What are you talking about?” Jeonghan’s eyes bugged out of his head as he yanked off his seatbelt. “I know these people.”

Grinding my teeth I followed suit and took my belt off, shutting the car off and opening my door. Sure enough, a song from the latest popstar at the height of her career poured into the car from the yard full of people. Their chatter could also be heard from here.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of people,” I narrowed my eyes. Clenching his jaw, his mother came out of him. At least my appearance still reigned superior. Paired with his dark brown hair pulled into a bun on the back of his head, he would forever be my twin. “This is always a toss up.”

Jeonghan pulled his lips tight. “He’s my cousin. I’ve seen this happen before. I’ve had to do this without you before. I’d rather be here with you then have you come alone.”

Taking a breath, I almost had one of those I can’t believe he came from me moments. Felix had taught him so much. I, me, myself, I’ve taught him so much. Even his mother and his stepfather, as much as I still hate to admit it to this day. Looking over my shoulder, taking into account what cars were here and which ones weren’t, I gave him a nod.

“Okay, thank you,” I said. “Just… be you.”

He smiled, his eyes curving upward. “Always,” he said happily, shoving my shoulder.

“Do you think they did this one big enough?” I asked him as we ascended the paved driveway. Giving me a silly look, he laughed. 

My boy was always happy.

Now at twenty four, still wanting to hang around both sets of parents, he was happy. He had a girlfriend now, one he brought around occasionally. It was still new, but she was great. I couldn’t wait for the day Felix and I could tell her about Jeonghan’s gay crisis he had at fifteen. At the time it wasn’t funny, but now whenever he brings it up another detail is added that has the potential to cripple every audience. He was unapologetically himself. Very little scared him, and I admired him for that.

“Nothing is ever too big for Sana,” Jeonghan breathed, mounting the grey brick layered steps. Glancing up at the banner that hung in the front door alcove, pink and bright and sparkling, with a ‘Happy Birthday Rose’ in the center, I huffed a laugh.

“Think we’re in the wrong color,” I said quietly. Jeonghan with a hand on the doorknob, pushed the heavy door open and glanced back at me pointing up to the banner. Widening his eyes and his grin, he looked at our matching dark clothes and laughed aloud, the sound echoing as we stepped into the air conditioned home.

Small children we didn’t recognize ran by us without a care, one almost taking my boy out by the knee. Tucking his hands over his chest he stepped closer to me and swallowed another laugh. Shooting him a knowing look we started through the home, large, spacey, echoey, yet full of so much stuff that one had to weave through each room. The tall walls painted white had family photos hanging up, portraits of two forced smiles holding their babies brought into a world where they’d one day succumb to the same fate as my Jeonghan.

It wasn’t a thing yet, but I could feel it.

That poor boy. Not a photo was genuine.

Poor boy, but good man.

I wondered if he’d let me have a conversation with him, too.

Leading Jeonghan into the kitchen where things fell quiet, a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders with an exasperated sigh. Shorter than me, straight hair hung in front of his naturally big eyes. His strung out eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to get here so fast,” Taehyun said, breathless. His fingers dug into the bone of my shoulders. Jeonghan narrowed his eyes, keeping watch over the entire situation. My boy had a sharp brain, he was observant. In moments like this he’d be able to relay every detail back to me once it was over.

Putting my hands over Taehyuns, I took them off of me and returned them to his personal space. “Are you okay?” I asked. He was high, but that was normal. Something else had happened. He was fuming.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, scratching the top of his head, then at his arms. “I’m good. Why?”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Taehyun,” I said, lowering my chin. He laughed, a singular sound, then shrugged. I wasn’t going to get anything out of him. Poor boy couldn’t speak for himself.

“My sister just left,” he sneered, and his jaw set into place.

Right. That.

He gestured behind him. “Beomgyu’s there,” he said. “Bathroom. I can’t get him out.” Jeonghan started for the hall, looking back at us for permission. With a nod I told him he could go. Shifting my eyes back to fidgeting Taehyun who couldn’t make himself comfortable, he said, “It’s getting worse.”

“For who?” I asked inconspicuously, eyeing the way he moved his hands over his skin. “Beomgyu, or you?”

Taehyun’s glare wanted to kill me if the boy could’ve wielded the power. “Him, damn.” He folded his skinny arms over his chest and did his best to stand still. “He was high when he got here, then he started drinking. She showed up, and he was a mess.”

“Did they speak?”

Taehyun narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck do you think?”

He’s lucky his words were ineffective over me. If I was Jeonghan’s age or younger I’d attempt to kick his ass. At least Taehyun didn’t have the strength to choke me unconscious, not in his current state anyway.

“Okay, well did he see the kids? He didn’t do anything, did he?”

Taehyun pursed his lips and shook his head. “He never does. He just watches them.” With a side eye to myself, he muttered, “She had another baby, yanno?”

Knowing what this meant to him, I tilted my head to the side and hummed. “I had no idea they were expecting more.” He rolled his eyes at my words, my insinuations, and laughed. When the smiles calmed down, I caught a glimpse of how it really made him feel. He was torn apart. That only meant the one in the bathroom was equally, if not more heartbroken. “I’m sorry.”

He scrunched his brows and shook his head. “God, no, don’t do that, I mean… I’m fine. It’s fine. If anything it just means she’s-”

“Hey, Dad?” Jeonghan’s voice carried down the hall, echoing in the tall ceilings. He appeared and my blood ran cold. The look on his face coupled with the worry in his tone told me I’d have to step in. I’ve never had to step in for him before. Not when it came to Beomgyu.

I was right, he shouldn't have come with me.

Leaving Taehyun in the kitchen I walked with a purpose, laying a hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder as I passed by him, letting him know that he did his best. The further I went, the louder the cries became. The sobs. The heavy breaths. The murmurs of words that scared me shitless.

Not that I’d ever show it.

Turning into the dim bathroom lit up by the window on the wall, I stopped in the doorway and took a breath. Jeonghan stood behind me, his lips pulled down.

Beomgyu was on the floor, splayed out on the floor, yet curled into himself. He was conscious, he was breathing, but he was saying things I never wanted to hear ever again.

Stepping closer to him, not letting his panicked breath affect my own, I squatted beside him and pushed his shaggy hair from his damp forehead. He was a sweaty mess. A sweaty trembling mess. Taking hold of his arm I yanked up the sleeve and rolled my head back with a groan.

“Beomgyu,” I said gently, placing a hand to his cheek. He stopped mumbling and looked up at me. “You’re gonna come home with me, okay?” 

“Home,” he whispered. His empty glare wrecked my heart. “No, you’re gonna take me… back there.”

Keeping my grip on his wrist, I attempted to move him, but he wouldn’t budge. “We’re going to go home. To my house. Felix is there. I brought Jeonghan with me, did you see him?” Gesturing behind me, the boy's eyes followed and I swear a smile tried to light up his face. “Come with us, you’ll feel so much better at home.”

“Better at home,” Beomgyu nodded, his cheek against the tile of the floor. Jeonghan came closer and he watched him.

“Unless you want to stay here and listen to Ariana Grande, and eat pink candy,” he said, and Beomgyu laughed between sobs. “It’s better at our house. I promise. You know that.”

To my surprise, he tried to sit himself up, wobbling back and forth as he did. Once he was somewhat stable, I pulled a rubber band from my wrist and worked his hair backward out of his face, and tied it into place. Yanking the hand towel from the wall beside the sink, sorry Sana, I cleaned him up and adjusted his clothes to where they belonged. He watched me as I did this, his cries having ceased the second he was upright.

“Better?” I asked, placing a hand to his cheek, pinching some life into it. Thinning his lips, he frowned and wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me into a hug. Dropping down onto my knees, I wrapped mine around him and held him. Fingers grabbing my shirt in despair, face down on my chest, I let him cry.

My promise.

Those words I said to myself so many years ago, before I had ever even held Jeonghan in my arms. Beomgyu and Jungkook. They were my responsibility. Even more so now that we only had each other.

I promised.

“I got you,” I whispered to him, drawing my hand in circles over his back. “Not gonna let anything happen to you, Beomie. I promise. We’re gonna help you.”

haven masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[ellieslaces]

a deep and sincere apology — an explanation by ellieslaces

to begin — thank you all so much for the influx of likes and reposts and support I’ve received lately! It really does mean a lot. however, I would like to offer an explanation for my sudden absence on here

(warning; it gets a little personal, I discuss things such as health issues and mental health issues and some sexuality issues)

(img. 1: me reading some of my past works that I’ve posted / abandoned, realizing they are indeed, shit)

To begin, I know I was working on my Can’t Catch Me Now series (a resident evil/hunger games au) and I do have full intention of finishing it. I have big plans for it! I want everyone to know, my absence and sudden hiatus on CCMN was not planned. I quickly became overwhelmed with every thing going on in my life.

Can’t Catch Me Now really is my brain child, idk where the hell it came from and how I managed to weave RE and THG together the way I did, but I can humbly say I am proud of it. I don’t want to abandon it, I’m just trying to find time and motivation to work on it.

as for Dancing With Our Hands Tied… yeowch. it’s a mess, I’m so sorry. I kind of want to rework it, to rewrite it now that I have a little bit of a better grasp on Leon’s character. But, it’s so much work and I’m already overwhelmed by continuing CCMN. So, it’s not a definite promise, but I will try to rework it at some point.

I do however want to venture into writing for some other characters. I’ve dabbled in writing for Hazel Callahan from Bottoms and the piece did pretty well (with the exception of someone commenting that it was shitty smut (it’s not even smut) and that threw me off for a while). but, I want to write for more female characters as well as maybe starting to write for Arthur Morgan from RDR2 (I’ve been playing lately and the brainrot is real). But, I’ll keep you all updated.

(img. 2; deep diving into the shit show that my life has become the past couple of months. it gets rough here sorry)

To begin, I again want to apologize for my sudden absence. I had some backlash on a piece I wrote and it messed with my head. And after that, everything in my life kinda went downhill. I want to try to remain as vague as I can while providing a good explanation.

I am in my final semester of undergrad. I am a little over a month or so away from my degree and I couldn’t be happier. However, it’s not been without challenges. I have a shitty professor, my college is really terrible and I have a lot of issues communicating with them (I don’t live in the state where I attend uni, I’m an online student as I moved)

On top of that, I’ve been having health issues lately. I had some bad blood work, which caused increased amounts of anxiety which led to me being physically ill for multiple weeks. I went to the doctor who referred me for an ultrasound (which made me sicker with anxiety). It went okay, but I needed another scan (a fibroscan) due to some issues with my liver. So, it’s been a little rough from that too.

On top of all that, I started talking to a girl online. For a while, she was the brightest point in my life. So sweet and funny and I was genuinely interested in her. But, something happened and we fell out of contact (really she stopped answering me). It hit me harder than I expected.

While she was a bright part of my life, I also struggled with it. I grew up religious, taught that homosexuality is a sin. I have known for a little over a year that I’m not straight. I’m not sure what I am, more unlabeled. But, I struggled because no one knows. I had a few long discussions with my therapist and she encouraged me to take it at my pace. My parents don’t know, and that’s been rough on me.

There’s also been some issues in my family that mess with my head. But that’s not my business to discuss with anyone.

Essentially, the last couple months have been heavy. This, despite being a little vague, is my reason. I’m sorry I didn’t give a warning, I just needed time. And there’s no promise I’ll be as active as I used to, but I want to be present on here. I just want to thank you all for your patience.

(img. 3; me at 3am ready to crack down on some works bc i miss writing)

As for what to expect with my newfound motivation and want to write, I have a few things. Obviously you can expect me to hopefully produce chapters Can’t Catch Me Now semi-regularly (maybe a chapter every week or two weeks). I want to finish that up and have it fully released.

I do have some other Leon works brewing, some standalones that I really love. So expect some of those.

Like I said, I want to work on writing for some female characters too. I have some works that aren’t fully completed for Jill, Hazel, Ellie, and Abby. But, as I’ve previously stated on my page, I want to be careful of what I post in terms of TLOU due to Druckman’s alliance to Israel. So, I make no promises in terms of that.

I stated I wanted to venture into writing for Arthur Morgan, and I do. I want to figure out how to write his character and get some works for him done. But I’m not sure when that will be.

As for now, all I ask is patience. I’m still trying to find my groove, get it back so I can write again. But, I hope to have some stuff out soon. All the best and thank you all.

Bunches and bunches of love,

ellieslaces.

[mendesbadrepuation]

Lost Without You // Bucky Barnes

*gif not mine and creds to owner*

This is loosely based off the song Lost Without You by Freya Ridings. A very intense and tender song. I love to listen to my Bucky playlist when I’m writing and this is one song from it!

A short blurb or one shot...whatever you muggles like to call it!

Bucky x female reader

Prompt: Bucky has to go to Wakanda to heal his body and mind before he hurts the one he loves the most. A couple months turned into two years. You soon learn without him, you are truly lost.

Warnings: there is a ziplock bag of angst…I mean look at the title lol. Crying/tears..lots of those. Pretty sad at the beginning. Not been grammar checked as usual :D

••••••••••••

There were days where everything was okay. There were days where everything was good. There were days where everything was great. However, there were still days where everything was bad, terrible even. It was supposed to be temporary and temporary can last a while in terms of the Avengers. You never thought that it would reach these lengths and what made it even worse is there was an excuse. He hadn’t been absent in your life like this before. Missions were normal for you, but he always came back. You really did not realize how much he was truly fighting on the inside and he needed to become himself again. Bucky Barnes couldn’t properly love you if he had this much trauma infecting his mental health. That part you did understand and you spent many hours talking him through it. Letting him know that no matter how bad you were going to miss him, he had to do this for himself.

The first month was filled with tears, lots of tears, and physical heartache.

The second month there was an empty black hole in your chest.

The third month there was anger and vast amounts of selfishness and shame.

The fourth month is where the numbness finally came and took place for the remainder of the time. All the way up to where you were now.

Two years later. You still lived in your shared apartment in New York City. You did a vast amount of remodeling that Bucky said he was going to do when he got back. But the remodeling distracted you and gave a piece of him to you. It was a strange mix of emotions. You felt him there with all the new additions. There were lots of industrial looks. Exposed brick and concrete floors that were already there when you bought it together. You added a few more touches that made it more homey. You had finally completed your schooling and was nose deep in your job. Your coworkers were friendly, you had good friends, and a very steady income. You were comfortable. You were not whole. You were lost.

Slowly you built yourself back together and made yourself stronger. The thought of seeing his face again kept you going. The lessons you had been taught were so very painful. There was fear of him never coming back to you and there was dread that he would not love you the same as before.

Most days Steve would check in on you and make sure you were safe. He never gave any updates or if he even mentioned your name. Natasha helped you get yourself out there after he said his goodbyes. She dried all those tears and reminded you it was only temporary.

Recently, all your days have mashed together and have become all too much. As much as you wanted to be alright you couldn’t. You were lost. There was no better way to put it. Mentally and physically exhausted from the constant worry and thoughts.

Today, you were drowning in your sorrows. Work was a basic waste of time and you were not very present. You really tried to pay attention and get things done. Your fellow coworkers noticed how down you seemed and they had been picking up on it a lot recently. Today you just could not be that ball of sunshine you try to be. As bad as you felt in the last two years you still gave it your all. Puting whatever happy energy you had left inside of you to make others happy.

The walk home to your apartment felt like a journey. A journey of trying to keep the tears from streaming down your face. As much as you tried you still ended up letting those pesky things fall. You drag your feet up the stairs of your complex and walk to your floor. More tears fell down as you reached your apartment door. On the door sat a sign that you and Bucky made together. Your hand slowly traces the acrylic paint.

Welcome All to Our Home

Bucky + Y/N

You felt an overwhelming feeling of defeat as the memories of this sign came flooding in your mind. The oddly shaped heart he drew held a lot of meaning for you. He did it with his finger and told you how much he loves you with it. Then proceeded to wipe paint all over your face.

Your head drops as a small sob escapes your body. You turn around and let your back fall against the door. Your legs give out as you slide down the door. Thankfully your floor was only your floor and no other apartments were here. Not that it would matter to you at this very moment. You had finally met that breaking point and you let it win.

“You really should think about another doormat, other than yourself.” A voice echoes in your head and you thought you were hallucinating. You take your hands away from your face for a moment. Slowly you look up to see a tall figure standing a little ways away from the stairs. The long hairs were tucked behind his ears and he was grinning down at you. He stood in black pants and a simple gray t-shirt. His chest and shoulders are still broad as could be.

“Are you real?” Your voice cracks from fighting back the tears. Did you hit your head on the way home?

He chuckles then touches his arms and then his torso. “I’m not transparent am I?” He fakes a panic which makes your head spin.

“Bucky.” You say and jump to your feet. You take off in a dead sprint to reach him. He meets your body with his and lets you jump in his arms. It felt like everything was in slow motion as you breathed in his scent. A scent you thought you had forgotten. You couldn’t fight the sobs anymore. You cried so hard into his neck you soaked his shirt.

“Hey hey hey.” He speaks as his hands brush through your hair in a way to soothe you. He hugs you tighter against him and let’s you spill every last emotion out. Bucky knew there would be a world spinning of emotions when he came back. He was eager to be back with you and there was no doubt about it. Everyday he worked so hard to reach this point. He finally felt safe in his own skin. He felt safe around you most importantly.

“I thought you would never come back to me.” You mutter to him through all the sobs.

“I would never leave my best girl.” He replies. Your head comes up to look at him. You see the scruff on his face. You take in all of him again so you could memorize every last inch. When your hands touched his face he thought he was going to fall to his knees. The feeling of your touch left him in shambles.

“You still love me? After all this time.” You ask unsure and a little shyly. It was a stupid question but the reassurance was something you needed.

“I never stopped. Not for one second. Everyday you were on my mind.” Bucky says like it's the easiest thing he ever did.

“I was so lost without you.” You add and you see tears surface his eyes.

“It’s a good thing I found you.” You nod your head in agreement.

“I’m sorry for all the stupid questions.” You say and he shakes his head.

“If the roles were reversed I would be doing a lot worse. You’re the strongest woman I know.” He says and presses his forehead against yours. “I’m never going to let you go, doll. You’re mine. You always will be.” Your heart pounds in your chest with his words. He starts walking with you still in his hold. He gets to the door and sees the welcome sign. You thought you were hallucinating again when you saw a tear fall down his cheek. In a quick response you reach your thumb up to wipe it away. He smiles at the action and walks through the door of the apartment.

“I only remodeled the kitchen and bathroom. I figured you’d want to do the rest when you got back.” You say as he looks around. He walks over to the kitchen island and sets you down on the countertop. He positions himself between your legs.

“I love it.” He raises his head up then brings his lips to your forehead. The kiss was soft and so gentle. Like he was afraid he might break you. “I’m going to love you for all time. Never forget that.” His voice comes out as a whisper and he finds your hands so he can interlock them with his. You squeeze them tightly and stare at the way he rubs his thumbs tenderly against your knuckles.

“I’m never letting you go like that again. You’ll have to go through my dead body.” You partially joke because you would never hold him back. But right now he wasn’t leaving your sight. Not after you got him back.

He chuckles and tilts his head up to look into your eyes. “God I missed those beautiful eyes, doll.” Your cheeks blush instantly just from that one little compliment. He lets go of your hands and brings his up to cup your cheeks. Very lightly he leans in to press a delicate kiss on your lips. The whole room starts spinning just from the little touch. It’s been so long and he still has that strong of an affect on you. “I missed those lips too.” You glance down to see a small grin etch across his lips.

“Bucky Barnes I missed you!” You felt the words just bolt out of your mouth in urgency. This time he pulls that grin into a full smile.

“I missed you my angel.” He brings you in for another kiss. Only this time more powerful and desperate. Two years without those lips you were dry as a desert for his touch. Of any sorts. He planned on giving you every bit of that.

A/N: Hey guys! Just popping in to say that my updates will probably be a little slower. I started back school and I currently work at a hospital as well. As you know the coco is hitting a strong surge so I am spending a lot of. my free time to  working :/ BUTTTTT!!!!! FALL IS ALMOST AMONGST US!! That means Fall themed writings! So excited for that!

Please if you guys feel comfortable or actually read this far. Give me some suggestions or ideas that you guys would like to read! I am always open for new things and expanding my horizons! never forget that my blog is a safe place and I will not ever ever judge. My writing is a source of therapy for me so I love to do this! Xx : )

[kurimiaki]

T, R, N and P with Diluc please?

the uncrowned king of mondstadt, diluc ragnvindr.

yandere alphabet via dear-yandere! revisions i made are flaky so. my bad wwwww

cw: dark content, physical abuse, kidnapping, confinement, claustrophobia, extremely unhealthy relationship.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Just because Diluc may be attending to business elsewhere, does not mean you are free from his heady grasp. Distant yet coddling; his attentiveness is a curse just as much as it can be a blessing. You’re never without security, that much is true. Dawn Winery is his eyes and ears, every single servant wrapped around his finger, wrapping around and constricting you. Self isolation could never be a possibility, not when Adelinde ushers you out of bed without a minute left to spare, always in such a hurry, as if wallowing in utter boredom for days on end is anything of importance. From the very beginning, Diluc had made it a point to ensure your physical health was a top priority to those surrounding you; strict itineraries have maids silently mourning over their packed workload. A plethora of duties— take you on brief walks outside the winery, never longer than 15 minutes, feed and serve meals delicately planned and catered to your health, eyes and ears constantly watching, watching, watching. They keep you like a dog on a leash, no matter how pampered. They do so dutifully. They must. Who could possibly decline such a hefty pay at the expense of silence?

It would be a blatant lie to say your physical health had declined any whilst under his... care, however, the same cannot be said for your mental well being. He can’t, despite how much he hates his inability to do so, prevent your tears. And by the archons, do you cry. Diluc is unable to approach you some days, those days when the illusion of normalcy and domestic living he works so hard to put up simply melts away, when you can do little more than curl in on yourself and wretch into your silk sheets with a litany of tears flush in your eyes. He wills himself to allow you the mercy of a few hours alone, albeit with check ups and that blatant discomfort of his when you wail at the slightest touch to your shoulder. Of course, it’s a different case entirely when such cries are symptom of punishment— whereas Diluc will weakly attempt to comfort you with softened eyes when you work yourself up, flaky and visibly uncomfortable, his resolution is unflinching and unwavering should you choose to act out of turn. Wail, sob, beg and beg for mercy, for forgiveness, his mask of nonchalance will stay firm.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No. Diluc is understanding that the situation he has thrust you into may not be ideal, he anticipates a lack of reciprocation and overall resistance, but he feels absolutely no guilt. In his eyes, this is for the best, the world is much too cruel— who better than him to make that judgement for you? Even if you do prove yourself to be capable of taking care of yourself, (with Diluc himself to measure up to) this Darknight Hero will find every minute, minuscule little thing to prove you otherwise. Just about every one of your shortcomings Diluc will try and use to his advantage, to put himself in a better light. Who else is as capable as he is, who else can prove themselves worthy of your companionship, your devotion, in the ways that he has? The longer you stay in his grasp, not that the possibility of leaving will come otherwise, the more difficult it becomes to prove him wrong. He feeds you with the utmost care, keeps you healthy, entertains you should you need conversation or otherwise, and provides, provides, provides. There may be a lack of freedom on your end, but really, do you have much room to complain? Without him, you may very well be dead. He ensures that point is driven straight to your heart, however many times is necessary until you grow compliant.

His will and rationality is fully reasonable, in his mind, hence why his wishes to keep you by his side shall forever remain solid. Perhaps it is the idea of you keeping close to him that entraptures Diluc so entirely, for he is a distant admirer. He would be contented growing old and without your touch, merely sharing your company for as long as life allows. All the same, he wishes to swallow you whole, skin, blood, guts and tears, if only to keep you with him. It is selfish, but he tells himself that is something of which he is deserving. He must.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Diluc is nothing if not dedicated to his goals, a driven man in everything he sets his mind to. In order to maintain the position he thrives in, he is forever alert, forever adapting, prepared for any strenuous situation thrown his way. Should you push past a line you are never meant to cross, jab at him a tad too harshly, well... it’s not as if he gives no thought as to how to keep you in line. Rarely are you knowing enough of his inner workings to be able to push him past the point of no return, a point where even you, his dearest, are not spared from his wrath. Emphasis on rare, for he is wholly tolerant and gentle with you, to an extent. Any person has a breaking point, and Diluc, despite his detached disposition and stoic attitude, can only withstand so much. He bottles up so much to remain composed, after all. When he snaps, he is unable to hold himself back any longer.

He is not one to take pleasure from the suffering of others. Lest they truly deserve it, is what he’ll tell himself, to at the very least maintain the illusion of normalcy. Sway not from the path of righteousness, forget not the splendor of dawn. His mind is able to concoct the most horrific scenarios he could possibly put you through, for he does the same with his enemies. In a way, when you act out of turn, an instinctual part of him, cultivated after years spent at the whims of the dangerous and unknown, sees you as just that— an enemy. He doesn’t often choose the more unsavory methods to keeping you in line, ie: beating or threatening you with his vision, further keeping true to said threats should you continue. Diluc is wholly capable of restraining the urge to simply slap the snark off of your face (he had done so regardless, once or twice), and much prefers isolating you on his own terms, away from everyone and everything, even himself. It’s a small room, not even on par with that of your shared bedroom, much more similar to a closet or crawlspace.

A room, but a cage all the same. Splintered wood floors, dank cobblestone surrounds you and few cracks in the stone leaves room for bugs of all nature to crawl through, allows the elements to rain hell upon you should you end up locked up during the harsher months. A lone maid, not even Adelinde, the head, attends to you, sparing meek glances should you call out when she gently places a meal of one roll, a piece of meat, and a few shoddily cut slabs of potato. No begging and weeping and screaming you may do will soften Diluc into coming back for you- again, his resolve is akin to that of steel, his will forever unyielding. He decides when you are thoroughly broken in, and when it is time to hold you in kind, he shines through like that of The Darknight Hero the people proclaim him to be. In the end, what is necessary is that he shows you how much better off you are when with him. He’s much too possessive and to a point, coddling, to ever consider discarding you into the wild and at the whims of hilichurl camps and abyss mages alike.

His hold is firm and grounding. Had he always been able to hold you with such ease? Had he ever truly held you in kind, as he does now? He’s warm. A familiar, comforting scent of smoke and acidic wine fills your senses and him, oh, him. He had left you, left you alone, all alone, in that room, not even a room, all alone, and yet you can do little more than gag and writhe and latch onto him with pleas of his name whispered hoarsely— ‘Diluc, Diluc, Diluc’. A cry of your savior.

He can’t look at you, won’t look at you. Won’t give you the mercy, but he couldn’t be angry. Not anymore. He holds you tighter and so flush to himself, with a ferocity narly shown to anyone but you, not in kind, not with this passion. You smell of dust, a husk of yourself. Faintly of his sheets, faintly of iron, of vomit, of filth.

Fresh memories of your betrayal burn hot in his mind. He’s contradicting himself. He cannot relent. It comes out as a whisper, barely even heard to himself, and he curses his very soul the moment it passes his lips.

“Strive to do better. Lest you want your time there to increase tenfold.”

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He can bear with defiance and unwillingness on your part, to an extent. He can anticipate as much, for he is not delusional enough to fool himself into thinking your relationship is even somewhat typical to that of a normal couple, no matter how much he wishes that to be the case. No, for the initial few weeks of your captivity (he’s always gotten so mad when you refer to him as such, a captor) Diluc allows you to lash and sob and attempt to reason with him, attempt to soften him, attempt to hurt him. He’ll allow you to do so, but he himself remains impenetrable, unblinking, almost uncaring. He is prepared for about anything and everything, always expecting the worse possibilities as to save himself from further harm. For you, as well, he is constantly anticipating and observing. In hidden, minute little ways. It may even come as a shame to him if the fact that he enforces the maids to note down your every little move ever reaches your ears.

All in all, Diluc’s complete preparation for anything and everything you may throw his way makes him extremely patient, for better or for worse. Difficult to crack, impenetrable, almost— on one hand, the distance he keeps from you to accommodate for your lack of reciprocation may come as a blessing, but it makes it all too difficult to try and pester him into letting you go, to try and understand his goals and motivations in keeping you locked right away. Your complacency is inevitable, sooner or later, Diluc will begin approaching and weaseling his way into your routine in the smallest of ways, gradually and unconsciously causing you to grow fonder of his presence. It’s a slow process, one he had planned from the very moment his wishes of a domestic life with you grew much too much to handle. He loves you completely, yearns for your love, and for it, he will wait as long as necessary.

Blazing red eyes leer down upon you, your shame increasing tenfold for each second that passes subjected to that gaze of his. A fit of expaseration, you will admit, had sent the cutlery dear Hillie had so delicately prepared flying off of the white tablecloth and onto the hardwood floors, further staining the expensive rugs with wines and crumbs and oils from his favorite meal, a concoction of pasta and steak and cheese. He had prepared yours alongside with it, striking tonight as a tad more special than the rest. You didn’t blame yourself for what you did, not when he had proposed something as outlandish as marriage.

He keeps silent, leaning back in his seat, his throne, as if he were a king observing a mere peasant begging for mercy— quite frankly, you should be. But perhaps tonight he will be more lenient, you ponder, averting your gaze to the flickering embers sparking from the fireplace beside you.

He sighs, suddenly, worn and thoroughly put out by your antics, further embarrassing you by his facade of nonchalance. No, you could tell from the way his leather gloves creaked from gripping himself too hard, he was barely concealing his own anger.

“You hardly let me finish my scentence. Come, we’ll continue this conversation upstairs.”

[axoxtxhxh]

Pairing: Sub!Goshiki x DomFem! Chubby!Reader Part 1 Summary: You met your good friend Goshiki at work one day, having similar interests in books. When you start developing feelings for him, things get difficult. Especially when he asks a special favor. Content: Body image issues

A/N: Thank you for following along! We’re now on our fourth week of stories! Both virginity loss stories are three parts. The second part will release on Wednesday and the third part on Friday. Be sure to check out @millenialfanfictionaddiction​s story Oikawa’s Oasis! You can reach it through the Please Me Series Masterlist. Feedback is appreciated!

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all. It wasn’t like you had your whole life planned out, in fact, it was quite the opposite. You didn’t know what you were doing half the time and you had reached a point in your life where you were kind of okay with that. While there were good things you tried to bring into your life, there was an even longer list of bad things you tried to keep out.

After hitting your late twenties, you decided it was important to take care of yourself. Getting rid of toxic friendships and focusing on your mental and physical health became your priority. You were doing a great job, as much as the rolls on your stomach and all over chubby look you had attested against it.

One of the other things you decided to finally pursue was your dream of being a romance novelist. You quit your nine-to-five day job that you hated and started working at your favorite bookstore in town while your nights were spent writing. The support you had from your friends at the bookstore was way more than you could ever have imagined. Even your boss loved hearing about your story ideas.

“You look tired.” Your boss, Dylan, joked as you walked into the breakroom, ready to start your shift.

“I was up late last night writing.” You hung up your jacket in your locker. “I could really use some… cof…fee.”

Your eyes lit up as you saw the full cup of coffee in your boss’s hand, extended to you. It was from your favorite shop down the street.

“How did you know I wanted coffee? Are you even real?” You took the cup and gulped down half of it.

“You forget, I’m your beta reader.” He laughed. “When you’re up writing, I’m up reading. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you!” You held the cup up to him, then took another big gulp.

“You get another tattoo?” He asked, eyeing your arm as you closed your locker. You looked down at your arm and smiled.

“Yep. Trying to finish up this sleeve.”

“I have a question.” He leaned back in his chair, his hands resting in his lap. “Why don’t you ever write with characters that look like you?”

“People like me don’t get to have romances like those in the books.” You shrugged and headed out to the floor.

The morning mid-shift was always your favorite. As much as you hated getting up early, the bookstore was at its quietest then and you could relax with your coworkers. You spotted your favorite co-worker manning the help desk and focusing on something on the other side of the bookstore.

“What are you looking at?”

“Shh…” They put their fingers to their lips. “I don’t want him to know I see him.”

“See who? What are you talking about?” You whispered, trying not to expose yourselves even though you still didn’t know what you were looking at.

“That guy.” They pointed and your eyes followed the direction of their finger to see a tall figure in the magazine section, his hood up, mask on and wearing sunglasses. You could see black bangs peeking out under the hood.

“So why don’t you want him to know you see him?”

“In case he’s stealing.” They whisper-yelled and you laughed.

“I’ll just go talk to him.” You stood up straight and made your way over. He looked a little less shady up close because you could see that he was lost in his reading and didn’t even really notice you being there.

When you first walked up, you saw him reading one of the car magazines from the shelf, but now that you were closer, you could see he had a book inside the magazine and was reading the book.

“You know, normally people put the magazine in the book, not the other way around.” You leaned closer to him and he jumped back, shrieking as he dropped the magazine and the book. He backed away from you and if he didn’t have his entire face covered with a mask and sunglasses, you could only imagine his eyes wide and his mouth open.

The magazine was all bent on the ground and you leaned over to pick it up along with the book. You could only imagine what he was reading that he had it hidden in a car magazine. Putting the magazine back on the shelf, you looked at the cover of the book. Romance?

“Were you reading this?” You held the book up to him with a smile.

“No.” He shook his head back and forth anxiously.

“Then why is it here?”

“It fell.”

“From where?” You questioned.

“Alright fine, I was reading it.”

He dropped his head low and you gasped sarcastically, your hand to your chest. “No! Really? I would never have guessed.”

“Very funny.” You laughed, looking back down at the book.

“So why are you hiding then? Or did you not notice there’s only like two other people shopping.” You gestured to the rest of the store. “Or maybe you couldn’t see well with those incredibly dark sunglasses.”

“That’s not it.” He pulled off the sunglasses and mask, dropping the hood to his sweatshirt as he looked around the store nervously. “I just don’t want anyone to know I’m reading it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” You looked at the book. It was one of your favorites. “This is a great book.”

His eyes widened as he quickly looked back to you. “You like romance novels?”

“I love them. I’m trying to write one actually. This one has given me a lot of inspiration for my current story.”

“That’s so cool.” He smiled, looking really amazed, you weren’t sure by what though.

“So, let me get this straight.” You narrowed your eyes skeptically. “You come in here to secretly read these romance novels because you don’t want people to know you’re reading them?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you just buy it and read it at home?”

“I have a roommate and I don’t want him to know.”

“You could go to the library.”

“They don’t have the ones I like and they don’t release as quickly as you guys do.”

“How long have you been doing this?” His mouth opened and he turned away, looking nervous by the question so you changed the subject. “Never mind. Honestly, as long as you’re not stealing or planning to steal, you can read however you’d like.”

You stepped back, adjusting the unorganized magazines, and turned to walk back to your station.

“Well, wait.” He went to grab your arm, but thought better and pulled back as you turned around. “You said you write.”

“Yes.” You nodded at him.

“Can I read your stuff?”

“Why would I let you read my work?” You laughed slightly uncomfortably. It was a weird question. He doesn’t know anything about you or your writing. You could actually suck at it. “I don’t even know you.”

“Goshiki.” He put his hand out with a smile and you shook it, telling him your name. “So we’re friends now?”

You started laughing. You couldn’t believe this guy. Friends? You met less than two minutes ago because he was being a creep in your store.

“You don’t have to laugh.” He grumbled.

“Why do you want to read my work so badly? You don’t know me. It could very well suck.”

“I just don’t have anyone to talk to about this stuff. I’ve been reading these books for years. I tried to avoid them in high school because I knew I would get made fun of, but I’ve never met anyone in person that likes them too. Not since you.”

The look on his face made you feel so guilty. Why did you have to have such a big heart? The guy just wants to talk about romance novels. He also had a point. You barely knew anyone that liked romance novels and you worked at a book store. Honestly, you could use a second opinion. Dylan had no idea what he was talking about half the time.

“Fine.” You sighed and he started smiling.

“Really?”

“Yes, but I’m not letting you read it without me watching. The last thing I need is you to steal my ideas.”

“That’s perfect.” He pulled out his phone. “There’s a coffee shop just down the street I like. We can meet there. Can I have your number?”

“Are you talking about Milstead?” You took his phone and typed your information, handing him your phone.

“Yeah, you know it?”

“Know it? I love it. I practically keep them in business.”

That’s where your friendship with the weird guy in the bookstore started. You weren’t so stuck in middle school that you would call him your best friend, but he was definitely your best friend. You had even caught him calling you his best friend to your coworkers and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have you smiling.

You had never gotten along with someone so immediately the way you did with Goshiki. You had an endless list of similar interests, from favorite books to your favorite coffee shop. You even had the same oddball order from the café. Though, you were both pretty sure that he accidentally got your order once and liked it so much he continued ordering it.

It didn’t take long for you both to start hanging out nearly every day and he started coming into the bookstore to talk to you rather than actually reading the novels he loved. After a couple weeks you trusted him enough to email him your work and it was only a month into your friendship before he was going over to your apartment to hang out regularly.

“Don’t you think it’s weird how close you’ve gotten?” Dylan asked as he helped stock the shelves. He had been wondering how your writing was going and if you were going to finish the latest chapter you had been working on. When you told him Goshiki was coming over to your place later so it wouldn’t get done, he worried.

“I don’t think it’s weird. Is it?” You didn’t feel uncomfortable. Honestly, Goshiki didn’t give off any of the red flags you were so used to seeing in people. He was genuinely a nice person who loved the same things as you.

“I don’t know. You just so happen to love all the same things?” He paused his stocking and looked at you. “Are you sure he doesn’t just have feelings for you and maybe he’s pretending to like the same things as you?”

“Stop trying to put me in my romance novel.” You laughed. “Guys don’t do that for me.”

Later that night you were in your kitchen waiting for Goshiki to get there. You had done something so stupid, something so completely thoughtless that you knew would ruin your mood yet you couldn’t resist the torture apparently. You weighed yourself. The level of fluctuating your weight did was honestly unbelievable. You always had good days when it was down, but days like today when it was up, you couldn’t help but let it sour your mood.

There was a knock at the door before it opened up and Goshiki walked in. You hadn’t given him a key or anything, but it was only a matter of time before you both hit that step.

“I brought Oreos.” He smiled, setting the container on the counter, pulling it open and eating one. He grabbed a second one and split it open, handing you the side without the cream. “Here.”

“You can have my side.” You tried to smile.

“But you always eat my half that doesn’t have cream.”

“It’s fine.” You shook your head. “I shouldn’t be eating it.”

“Shouldn’t be eating it? Are you sick?” He pulled another Oreo from the container and ate it in one bite. He was honestly so lucky he could eat whatever he wanted.

“No just watching my weight. I sort of fell back into some old habits.”

“What’s wrong with your weight? You look great.”

“Let’s get started on the story.” You tried to change the subject.

“Did you finish the chapter?” Goshiki’s eyes were wide and he spit the dryness of the cookies from his mouth out of excitement. You laughed as he quickly covered his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Maybe.” You smiled coyly, grabbing his hand and he grabbed the Oreo container. “Come on.”

Moving to the couch, you sat on the end, Goshiki plopping next to you, and you put your laptop in his lap. There was a tiny bit of anxiety building in your stomach as you sat there watching him read and you were pretty sure part of it was what Dylan had said earlier. Was it possible that Goshiki had feelings for you? You watched as he put another Oreo in his mouth, his eyes glued to screen of your computer, scanning back and forth as he read. You weren’t even sure if he was blinking, the glow of the monitor shining onto his eyes. There was no way someone could be that into you to fake that look of concentration.

You smiled to yourself and kept watching him read. This chapter had a pretty steamy scene in it but you’d known Goshiki long enough and seen him read enough of your work to know that it didn’t matter what he was reading, his expression never changed. His eyes were always wide with interest, mouth closed in a pout.

He put another Oreo in and you watched him as he chewed, his jaw working. You could see the sharp, jagged edges of the cookie through his cheek until it eventually became a smooth, round bump and he swallowed it, reaching for another.

Propping your head up on your hand on the back of the couch, you continued watching him. He was definitely good-looking. You had noticed how good-looking he was the first day you saw him in the magazine section, hiding his romance novel. Not wanting to interrupt him, you tried not to laugh, but definitely couldn’t hold back the smile as you thought about the memory. Would it be so bad if he did have feelings for you? You had dated some really terrible guys in the past. Goshiki wouldn’t even be close to the list those guys were on.

He licked his lips, wiping Oreo crumbs from his mouth and you licked your own lips, swallowing hard as you watched him. You liked the same food, the same coffee, the same books, you had so many hobbies that overlapped and you could honestly spend hours with him without getting bored. You started to think that maybe you were feeling anxious not because of what Dylan thought of Goshiki, but maybe what you were feeling about him. Was it maybe you that had feelings for Goshiki?

“Wow, that was such a good—” He turned to look at you but noticed something in your face, an expression he wasn’t sure of. “Everything okay?”

You had made a lot of questionable decisions in your life, some of them you regretted, some led you to the most amazing times. This last year especially was a time of making really great decisions, cleaning out the bad and bringing in the good. You weren’t sure which direction this decision was going to take you, but you leaned into Goshiki anyway. His eyes went a little wide as your lips barely touched. You wanted to give him time to pull away if he wanted, but he didn’t and that made you push yourself the last inch until your lips met his.

Soft, plush, velvety lips pressed against yours and for an instant you were taken out of the moment, your head swirling with a mix of feelings, amazing feelings that you weren’t even sure you could separate but it didn’t matter because the cocktail they created in your head made you feel drunk, stupidly drunk as you kissed him. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you pulled back.

“Oh my—I’m sorry—I don’t—"

“No, it… it feels good.” He brought his hands up to your cheeks and pushed his lips against yours again, this time without any hesitation. You never knew the feeling of his nose touching yours or the little puffs of his breath against your face, or just how warm, calloused, and big his hands would feel against your cheek. Suddenly you were feeling them all at once and you pulled him closer, your tongue licking over his lips until he opened his mouth.

He dropped his hand to your waist, rubbing at the fleshiness of your body and you couldn’t stop the heavy beating of your heart. The awkwardness you had briefly worried about didn’t exist, it was only bliss. It was the best kind of overwhelming and you wanted more of him.

Pushing the laptop to the other side of him, you lifted yourself up until you could climb over him, straddling his lap. His hands immediately went to your plump hips, cradling them, but again you wanted more and you scooted yourself closer.

“Uh—I…” He gasped, sitting back from you.

“Is this too fast?”

“I’ve just never—I mean, I don’t know how—I’ve never—reading it is totally different.”

“Are you okay?” He kind of looked like he was shutting down. He was saying a lot, but none of it was complete and made no sense to you.

His eyes widened as he whispered quietly to himself. “Holy shit, my dick’s hard.”

“Goshi—”

“I have to go.” He started standing up with you in his lap and you quickly moved out of the way so he could get up. “I’m sorry. I just… I have to go.”

He didn’t even turn around to look at you as he moved hurriedly to the front door of your apartment. You heard the door quickly open and close and you couldn’t even let yourself feel bad. You were just confused.

It was possible you misread the situation, but he seemed really into it. Maybe he changed his mind partway through. You didn’t want to think about you being the problem, but it was hard to ignore. He felt your weight. You sat on his lap and he held you and maybe he finally realized that you didn’t ‘look great’ like he always told you.

You sighed, sitting back on the couch and running your fingers through your hair. You had done so much this last year to better yourself. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all. Great decisions would lead to great opportunities and you were trying to bring good things into your life. Falling for your best friend was not on that list, yet here you were.

Shit.

.....

@chaotic-nick​ @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes​ @serostapesweat​ @lovelyzabrak-meadow​

[colorlesschristmastree]

RE: SJM's bad writing:

I'm still fuming about the fact that Rhys started as a villain and has the power to manipulate other people's thoughts and feelings... And SJM did nothing interesting with that.

I hoped Acosf to be the book where after Rhys keeps info about her pregnancy and health from her, Feyre realizes that he's not a "feminist king", that she literally does not "always have a choice", that she is not "his equal" and that he has manipulated her feelings so far, and any time Feyre had shielded herself was because he'd let her to.

Like, maybe she'd get free of his mental control thanks to Nesta's new, undefined powers or something. And from there she just realizes everything. That he's not a kind Lord, that he wasn't able to help the Illyrians in how many centuries? And that he has no interest in doing it now (which is quite obvious). That he assaulted her repeatedly UTM. That people follow him because they are either magically manipulated or physically intimidated and threatened. That he made a suicide pact with her (so fuckin' toxic), and after her death in childbirth would have left his Court without a leader because he SUCKS AS A LORD.

It would have been SO COOL.

Instead we get Rhys threatening to kill Nesta for telling Feyre the truth and no one batting an eye at that. We get Feyre being upset for half a second and then act like nothing happened. We get Feyre almost dying because of him. We get Nesta losing her powers to save all three of them... But not before changing her own anatomy to make sure she can bear Cassian's children.

We get talks of him becoming High King, because of course.

SJM is a terrible writer.

Yeaaahhh i don’t really agree with you on a lot of this but I do think evil Feysand would’ve been cool. But Rhys never was a villain and his change in acomaf wasn’t retconning (imo), I reread the first book recently and his character was always there.

But anon you sound kinda silly, I don’t know why you would think or want SJM to take the main ship/couple of the series and make it so that it was just mind control the whole time.. that’s just not reasonable and she’s never been that kind of writer, your disappointment was kinda unfounded.

And I don’t agree that it’s obvious that Rhys doesn’t want to help the illyrians, mind you he was TRAPPED under the mountain for fifty years, and the rest of the IC was in Velaris and couldn’t leave. Any female illyrians who were clipped during that time cannot be blamed on Rhys and the IC because they literally weren’t there. Plus many Illyrians literally sided with amarantha, if Rhys didn’t care about them he wouldn’t have intervened and took care of all the rogue bands during those three months after UTM.

The illyrians just spent 5 decades without any control or influence from Rhys. Rhysand was UTM before emerie was even born. And some of the things you suggested wouldnt have been changed in acosf, you can’t change canon that drastically without it seeming weird. My post was about how she could have been more creative with writing a story for Nesta and Elain. Tbh idk why you’d send this ask, I’m a very pro ic and Feyre blog so I can’t really agree with anything you said except that SJM isnt a good writer and has been lacking creativity with her plot lines in the acotar series.

[awake-dearheart]

it took me a couple days but here’s a rundown of things sebastian said during the zoom call with his trainer don saladino and the march challenge group. he was on for an hour and three minutes total. keep in mind this challenge was fitness oriented so most of the questions revolve around that. this will also be LONG.

first of all he had trouble unmuting himself which was hilarious

he had a carboard cutout of the falcon with him which made everyone laugh

he loved being able to support ronald mcdonald house and he was sad they couldn’t go this year. sweet baby

when he was asked what he struggles with in his fitness he immediately said body dysmorphia. like no hesitation. he said he felt like he could stand to be less hard on himself.

he prefers cardio over other kinds of workouts.

he mentioned a role he’s getting ready for that’s “a lot different” but he laughed it off and said he couldn’t talk about it. i’m thinking it might have been tommy lee?

he tries to workout even just a little before he goes to set even when his schedule is crazy.

when he started training he had NO idea what he was doing. it took him a while to get into a routine and figure it out. he credited don with working a lot with him and finding a routine that works for him.

he feels better when he can do something physical every day. he said it really helps him mentally because the two go hand in hand for him.

someone said they were learning romanian and asked him for phrases to learn in romanian he said (in romanian) “oh my GOD why would you do that?” he also said he thinks people learning romanian because of him is “one of the sweetest things.”

he was asked how he balances training to look good vs training to feel good and he said if he’s training to look good he’s never 100% satisfied. training to feel good and setting short term goals has been better for him. 

don praised him for working hard to pivot his focus on the overall vs the day to day. seb said it was a lot harder when he started than it is now.

someone asked him if the workouts or the nutrition was harder and he immediately started talking about pizza and how much he loves a good cheat meal. the chat blew up talking about his cheat day video for men’s health. 

seb asked don his favorite cheat meal and they went on a tangent about burgers and fries and vodka that had us cracking up. seb said he went through a period where he was eating some kind of chocolate every day.

someone asked if he found it mentally difficult to go from one body type to another for roles and he said absolutely. he said if he has a shirtless scene to do then a month before he cuts out ALL sugar. fruits, carbs, everything and he turns into a very irritable person for about two weeks.

he was asked how the pandemic has changed his training and he said of course it has. him and don worked together to create a program for him to do from home with dumbbells and they had to get inventive. he’s been running a lot too.

someone asked the strangest item he’s used for weights and he said he’d go to the grocery store by himself without uber or anything. he tried to do one big shopping trip to last him for a week and half and he’d be laden with bags and it took him an hour and a half to walk home.

he told a story about using a towel and a bar in his house and he said “you probably know it because some “super fans” love to leak my address. so kind. lovely people.” the chat became v enraged.

he’s never had to get in shape on super short notice. marvel usually gives him about a 2 month heads up before he has to shoot things.

someone asked if he was a dog person. he said he loves dogs and he’d love to have one but he travels too much to give one the right kind of attention. he said if he could have a dog he’d have a bulldog or a husky.

he was asked his favorite nyc cheat meal and his first answer was “seeing all of you there” and we all cracked up. his real answer was a pizza place called rubirosa. he specifically likes their white pizza. (who wants to go to new york and get pizza with me?)

who would win in an iso squat challenge? him or don? (iso squats are when you drop into a squat and you hold it. it’s been the most hated exercise throughout the challenge). his face was HORRIFIED when he remembered what they are and he said don would definitely win. “don you have thighs of glory” the group is contemplating making shirts.

he played some sports in school but he wasn’t a super athletic kid. he struggled in school a bit because he had an accent and people were picking on him. it took a long time for his confidence to build.

celebrate victories where you can. he talked about when he posted that shirtless picture from the gym as an example. he said it’s more for motivation and pride in his achievements than about showing off.

he mentioned the documentary “the weight of gold” as something he watched recently. he said it’s a good example of people who are gold medal olympians struggling with the same things as everyone else when it comes to fitness. he comes back several times to not being too hard on yourself. 

he hasn’t lifted any weights in about a month and a half but he’s been running. he’s surprised at the amount of muscle he still has because he thought he’d lose a lot of it.

taking breaks when you’re working on fitness is so important. he says taking a week off sometimes is ok if that’s what you need.

they have talked about pizza at least 5 times at this point (32 minutes in) and it’s HILAROUS honestly.

he hates leg day. he knows how important it is because you need strong legs but he prefers doing arms and chest. “the squats can be so annoying UGH.”

someone asked him his advice for people who are starting an acting career and he laughed and said “quit all social media.” he walked it back and said you have to find a way to quiet the noise. 

this mfer went to theatre camp when he was 15 and he did MUSICALS. we tired to get him to sing. it didn’t work.

“you gotta do you. you cannot lose you as you’re going. and you cannot care what people think.”

he talked about imposter syndrome in terms of getting reviews and stuff. he said when he gets bad reviews it hurts but sometimes when he gets good reviews he can think “oh my god they made a mistake” or “oh my god i have to deliver like this every time.” he said if you’re starting out ask yourself why you want to do this and make sure this is what you want to do day in a day out. make sure when you face rejection and obstacles you have the energy to push you to get back up and say “fuck you i’m doing me.”

recommended the book “the subtle art of not giving a fuck” as something he loves.

“there’s creativity in everything. you don’t have to be a pianist or an actor or a writer. there’s creativity in all functions. as people we’re all creative.”

he went back to instagram for a minute and said to use it for the right things and follow the things that you like or are inspired by. he loves that social media can be used to reach people but you have to filter through the negative stuff.

someone asked the meanest thing don’t ever said during training and he said don’s never been mean but he’s always been inspiring and motivating for him. cute lil bromance moment.

he was asked if it’s harder to get into shape physically for the winter soldier or mentally. he said now it’s more of a head thing than it was in the beginning. the physically part was challenging for him in the beginning because he wanted to feel strong to build his confidence. he felt he couldn’t be bucky without being strong. 

civil war was his real hair but when they started filming it wasn’t long enough so he had extensions. by the end of the shoot it was long enough to cut the extensions out. 

the line between overtraining and not being motivated to train enough is hard for him sometimes. things tend to come all at once or not at all and it can be a struggle. 

he meditates and does some kind of physical activity every day at the start of his day. it makes him able to do the things he needs to do for the rest of the day better.

he thanked everyone for their support of tfaws and “making us look pretty good.” he’s very grateful for the turnout.

don says falcon weird. that’s not important but i wanted to mention it.

running is his go to thing. he feels like it’s a good meditative thing for him.  his go to pandemic workout was 100 pull ups, 100 push ups, 100 sit ups, 100 squats and alternating with running. we all panicked and were like “100 PULL UPS AT ONCE??” and he was like no no no no no no no no space that shit out during the day.

he loves breakfast but he doesn’t eat it at breakfast time. he joked he was going to eat breakfast after the call (which ended at 7PM). he likes anything with eggs and avocado. 

there are still directors he wants to work with that he can’t get to see him for parts. he did three audition tapes, two in person auditions, and a screen test to get bucky.

he just recently learned what “thirst pics” are (he figured out from the chat it’s thirst traps). when someone told him that picture from the gym was a thirst trap he was like “oh great well that sounds terrible.” men’s health didn’t call him until after that pic. he had reached out to them before that but that was the thing that made them call.

“make fun of yourself. you have to not take yourself too seriously.”

they both talked about how being able to do things like this is a privilege. there are always days when seb or don or anyone walks into a gym and doesn’t want to be there.

this is the part that made me emotional as FUCK. he’s had days where he’s gone to set and been like “what the fuck am i doing?” he says every time that happens he thinks “this is the time they’re gonna realize i can’t do this. this is when they’re all gonna know i’ve never been good at this.” he said in those moments you can’t just say “no no no i’m the best.” he said sometimes affirmations work and they can be as simple as “i’m gonna try to have a good day today” and it doesn’t have to be “i have to be the best version of myself.” it can just be “i wanna have a good day today” but on the days when you don’t feel good about things and don’t know what you’re doing he said you have to go there and say “ok i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing. fuck everything.” be in the thing that’s happening to you and give yourself permission to be down for a minute. find a compromise with yourself. if you can’t run the same three miles you’ve run all week and you just don’t want to, maybe you go for a walk instead. (his example not mine i DO NOT run). when he’s been in those moments of defeat accepting it had lead him to things he didn’t plan for and he finds those moments to be gifts in a way. accepting it and saying “today is that day” your body and your mind can start moving into finding other little things to do.

he came back to pizza one more time. i love him.

he recognizes how lucky he is to have the life he has. he says it’s important to pay attention to give a fuck about things and to give a fuck about things that will help other people. 

watching him talk the whole time he seemed so happy and relaxed. he seems like such a light hearted and fun person and he laughed SO much

that’s the end y’all. thanks for sticking around and reading all my hastily typed notes

[itslieutenanthawkeye]

Lucky Guy

Day 7 of Jeankasa Week: College AU

AO3

Sasha and Connie dragged him forward; they’d loaded him up on caffeine that very afternoon, picked up a set of clothes for him and tried to shave his stubble. Jean hadn’t allowed them to do the latter. The night was starting, and he already felt tired.

Final exams had worn him out, consumed all his energy for the sake of a pass, for the sake of a chance of a good job in the future, a nice home for his family. Not that he had any prospects at the moment, mind you. All he seemed to have was stress, and exhaustion nowadays.

He understood that the two dragging him to the party wanted to help him wind down, but Connie had already started taking over for his family business and Sasha had graduated culinary school a year ago. They were living the adult, independent life already.

Meanwhile Jean was stuck with physics and mathematics. At least the artistic portion part of his classes was fulfilling.

“So, where’s Niccolo?” Connie asked as they got on the tramway.

“He had to close up, but he’ll meet us at the party later.” Sasha said, taking them to the long seat at the back of the tramway. Jean sat in between the two, listening to their chatter in silence. “Aren’t you going to lighten up, Jean? You look like someone just died.”

Jean lowered his head, the repetitive rattling of the cart almost lulling him to sleep. “My will to live has died.”

“Come on, man, is it that bad since Marco left?”

“That traitor.” Jean said, with a tone of voice that spoke longing instead of anger.

Marco and he had decided to study architecture together; Jean driven by his knack for drawing, Marco driven by his desire to be by his side. A year into their university course, however, he’d gotten that scholarship to study photography in Hizuru. A great, one-in-a-lifetime opportunity that didn’t come around twice.

An opportunity that would force them to stay apart for four full years. Since neither had enough money to fly back and forth and Jean had not wanted to give up his studies in Paradis, they’d decided to remain friends. They’d been friends since the beginning, after all.

After the first months of heartbreak, Jean had realized that Marco had left him with just about enough money to pay for three months of rent. Although he couldn’t blame him, Jean had gotten the habit of cursing him lowly for the past year, whenever he was forced to balance his part time job and his ridiculous physics lessons.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t get another roommate.” Connie said, scratching the back of his ear. “Are you just holding out until a cute guy shows up at your door?”

“Or girl.” Sasha added, opening a bag of potato chips sneakily.

“Oi, Sasha,” Jean said, frowning. “We’re gonna get a fine because of you.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Sasha said, waving her hand to undermine the matter. “You guys want some? They’re new spicy ones.”

Jean reached out under her jacket and took a few chips into his mouth. “I take it the restaurant is doing well? With you being okay for paying fines, I mean.”

“Niccolo said that breakfast menu I came out with put us on top. If we keep it up, in about two years we’ll be able to set our next location,” she said proudly, her mouth also half full of chips. She gave Jean a significant look. “We’ll need an architect for the place. And someone here will be almost finished with uni.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I’ll make sure to remind you.”

“You know you can ask for money, right, Jean?” Connie said, resting his back against the seat. “You don’t need to work yourself to death when you’ve got us.”

Another lazy smile came to his face. “I don’t want to be a burden to you guys.”

“You’re more of a burden when you don’t come with us to these things,” Connie said. “First, you missed all barbecue nights at Niccolo and Sasha’s. And now you didn’t want to come, and you know Reiner throws the best parties. His little cousin took down that Galliard guy the last time.”

“Isn’t she a kid?” Jean blurted out.

“She likes to sneak in to get in fights with the college kids.” Connie explained, laughing. “I think she’s been in martial arts since five or something.”

“Now that’s a surprise,” Sasha said, elbowing Connie as the tramway arrived at its next station. Jean looked at the person getting on and his breath caught. Wearing a corseted black dress, her hair up in a high ponytail and wearing a choker around her elegant neck, Mikasa Ackerman stood out as a comet across a blue sky.

“I didn’t think she’d come tonight,” Connie said. “You know, considering Eren.”

“What happened with Eren?” Jean asked.

“Don’t you check her feed?” Connie asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “You know, since you had that huge crush on her in high school and whatnot.”

“I’ve been busy.” Jean said, too tired to try and deny that crush he’d had on her in their school days, the crush that had always irked Marco somehow. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m too busy to be concerned about other people’s drama.”

“They broke up,” Connie said in a gossipy tone, as if Jean hadn’t just snapped at him. “Around six months ago. He skipped town. Didn’t want to be tied down or something, wanted to be free as birds or whatever. He’s backpacking in the continent, I think.”

Jean sat straighter on his seat. That dick. That stupid, nihilistic piece of shit. “Why didn’t you guys tell me? Isn’t Sasha her best friend?”

“Because you disappeared the whole semester, man. That’s why I told you to ask for money instead of working yourself to death,” Connie said, shaking him by the shoulder. “You miss out on parties and gossip.”

“Stop it. She’ll hear you,” Sasha said, lifting her arm to wave at Mikasa. “Hey! Mikasa, over here! Come sit with us!”

Jean felt heat in his cheeks. “Sasha, don’t. She’ll come.”

“That’s what I want.”

“I can’t talk when she looks this pretty.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Stop being an idiot, Jean.”

Mikasa’s eyes caught sight of them and she made her way to their seat, not bothering to hold onto anything to keep her balance as the tramway moved forward. They had known each other from high school and little things had changed about the way she moved; she carried herself with the elegance of a swan, and the strength of a mountain. He remembered teasing Eren about her being the boss in their relationship during their very last year of school, when the embers of jealousy had begun to die for Jean, and chuckled lowly at the memory of the enraged response he always received.

“Hi, everyone,” she greeted them. Sasha scooted to the side, and Mikasa sat between her and Jean, close enough for him to smell her perfume. “Are you guys going to Reiner’s?”

“Best parties in Trost.” Sasha said, offering her the bag of potato chips. “Want some?”

Mikasa dipped her hand in the bag. “Aren’t you scared you’ll get a fine?”

“She says she’ll pay it,” Connie explained, reaching over Jean and Mikasa to grab more.

“Sasha,” Mikasa said sternly. “How many more fines are you going to pay?”

“She’s paid more this month?!” Jean said.

“She has. It’s getting ridiculous, she can’t go on a tramway without getting hungry…” Mikasa stopped herself from talking and settled her eyes on him, with a vague surprised expression on her lovely pale face. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been busy with work.” Jean said, shrugging, hoping that she wouldn’t see the blush in his cheeks that look of her had caused. He waited a second, wondering if he should bring up that he had, in fact, seen her. “I saw you, though. Drawing, in the Maria building.”

Understanding washed over her face, and her mouth fell open. “You should’ve said hi, Jean.” She said. “It’s a huge classroom, there’s no way I could’ve seen you.”

“I’m sorry.” Jean muttered. Truth was, he hadn’t wanted her to see him in the state he’d been in two weeks ago. With his double shifts at work and his assignments for the end of the semester, Jean had resembled a walking corpse more than a human.

Mikasa was an anthropology and history major and, much like Jean himself, worked part time jobs. However, with her looks, most of her part time jobs were related to modeling. That morning at creative drawing, she’d been hired to pose for the class covered only by a thin sheet. And despite being a class full of professionals, Jean had still not wanted the girl who resembled a goddess to see him bordering a mental breakdown.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” She asked him.

“Does it show that bad?”

Mikasa’s mouth made a perfect O in terror. “I didn’t mean to sound like that.”

Jean chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. It shows. If uni wasn’t free, I would’ve gone broke already.”

“You need to look after your health more, Jean. Have you even been eating well? If you don’t sleep and don’t eat well, you’re just going to burn out,” Mikasa said, then froze, grabbing the hand that was going to reach out to him. “I’m sorry. I just sounded like a mother there.”

“You’re right, though.” Jean replied, smiling at her. “I haven’t been eating well. With work—”

“Is that why you haven’t been to any of the barbecues?”

“You went?”

Mikasa nodded. “We missed you.”

Jean’s head came up with a thousand names to call himself in that moment. He missed his friends enough during the semesters without the knowledge that she’d been hanging out with them at barbecue night. “I’ll make it next time.” He managed to say. “Did Armin go?”

“He’s been busy with moving in with Annie.” Mikasa said, sighing. “I don’t think I’d talk to anyone outside work if it wasn’t for Sasha and Mina.”

“Wait, Armin moved out too?” Jean asked, growing concerned. “Did those two just up and left you alone in that huge apartment?”

“Armin left me some money to pay a couple more months’ worth of rent.” Mikasa said, almost apologizing in Armin’s behalf. Jean’s fists clenched automatically; he’d seen how smitten he was with that marleyan girl, but leaving Mikasa alone to pay for that huge apartment by herself…

“Besides, I insisted,” Mikasa added with a low voice. “I didn’t want him to wallow in self pity with me when he has a perfectly lovely girlfriend.”

Jean sighed tiredly. He should’ve known. Even heart broken, Mikasa cared more about her friend’s happiness than her own economic safety. In a way, it was something that made her all the more charming in his eyes.

“Hey, are you two going to ignore us all the way there?” Connie asked, slapping the back of Jean’s head. “Why did you have to sit in between us if you’re just gonna talk to each other?”

“He’s right,” Sasha said, shaking Mikasa by the shoulder. “Mikasa, pay attention to your best friend now! She brought chips for you!”

Mikasa narrowed her eyes in Sasha’s direction. “Since when do you carry food for anyone but yourself, Braus?”

Sasha’s face contracted into a miserable expression, and she threw herself over Mikasa, hugging her while kissing her head. “Not the last name treatment, Mikasa!”

Maybe a few years ago, Mikasa would’ve thrown Sasha back onto her seat. This time, however, she limited herself to exchange an amused look with him and Connie, patting Sasha’s head in a conciliatory manner. “Alright, alright. Control yourself,” she told Sasha. “Don’t you have a boyfriend? What will Niccolo say if he sees you hugging a woman like this?”

“He’ll probably think we look hot.” Sasha replied innocently.

“What a perv.”

“Mikasa!”

_________________

The tramway took them to the west end of Trost, where high skyscrapers and fancy apartment buildings rose into the sky. The elevator took them a whole thirty floors up to Reine’rs apartment. As soon as they walked in, Jean stared at the ceramic floors, the balcony with its hot tub and view of the distant mountains in the island. When Reiner came to greet them with a hug for each, Jean held him by the shoulders.

“When did you get this rich?” He asked, baffled. How had everyone gotten rich so quick before him?

“My mother and I won the alimony trial last month,” Reiner laughed, hugging him again to then make a wide gesture with his arms at the people in the room. From the way he moved, Jean guessed he was already drunk. “Nineteen years’ worth of unpaid alimony, all paid in full!”

The crowd cheered, raising their beer bottles in the air to celebrate his makeshift toast. “Galliard, Pieck!” Reiner said, stumbling back into the crowd, being caught by the two exchange Marleyan students. “Get the karaoke machine going!”

Sasha and Connie dived into the party in full, going over to Mina, who had her hands full while pouring two bottles of vodka into a large crystal bowl filled with fruits and juice. Jean rubbed his temple; getting drunk wasn’t on his list of priorities, not with so little sleep in his system.

He turned to look at his right, realizing Mikasa stood by the door, watching the crowd move around Reiner’s apartment with apprehension. He took a couple of steps in her direction, leaning against the wall with his hands crossed over his chest, perhaps in a subconscious attempt to appear nonchalant. “See anyone you know?” He asked.

“Too many people.” She muttered in response, rubbing her arms. “Sasha said this was going to be like the barbecue.”

One would think that with her looks and strength, Mikasa would be a little more popular. She’d been an introvert since secondary school, shielded behind the personalities of her two childhood friends. And despite that a few people had managed to break through the cold outer layer of her personality (like Sasha, who’s might as well have gone through it with a war hammer) it always seemed to Jean that there as hidden sadness behind her eyes, a brake of sorts that didn’t allow her to express herself to the fullest.

“Let’s go to the balcony,” she said, pulling his sleeve. “Bring beers.”

Jean almost -almost- felt bad for Reiner’s father as they walked along the balcony. Trost had skyscrapers aplenty, but very few had a perfect look of the suburbs and mountains, and very few had an infinity pool with a hot tub included. The place must’ve costed a fortune. He could almost see his own neighborhood from this height.

They found a set of unoccupied pillowed seats at the corner, far from Reiner’s infinity pool, and sat there to watch the city in silence.

“I live there,” Mikasa said after a while, pointing south to a cluster of colorful buildings. “It’s the big tall one, with the red lights.”

“Ah, party town,” Jean said. He and Marco had tried to find a place there, but the rent had been astronomical, given its strategic location near the universities and clubs. “Was it a big change from the suburbs? That’s where you grew up in, right?”

“It was a huge change from my uncle’s house,” she said, her eyes set on the red building, amused at some memory Jean wasn’t aware of. “He was grossed out when he visited last year.”

“College neighborhood isn’t for him?”

“He said it was too dirty,” Mikasa said, sighing. “Although I’m sure he was terrified at the number of teenagers that threw themselves at him. He said I was to visit him from now on.”

Jean giggled at that. “Girls threw themselves at Levi?”

“Apparently he’s got something that makes university students go crazy.” Mikasa said, making a disgusted noise. Jean laughed again; Levi had been their teacher in middle school. How any college girl found him so appealing, he didn’t understand.

“Well, at least you can have fun in that neighborhood.” Jean said.

Mikasa made another disgusted noise. “I was only there because Eren suggested it. It was too loud for my liking. Too many creeps on the streets. And the rent is too high.”

“How did you guys manage to afford that? I mean, Eren and Armin aren’t precisely rich,” Jean said, covering his mouth as soon as he realized what he’d blurted out. “I’m sorry, Mikasa! I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Mikasa said, shaking her head in amusement. “Eren’s brother paid for most of the rent. He works in Marley and sent him money.”

She finished with a sigh, setting her eyes on the floor for a second before taking a sip of her beer. When she turned to look at him, Jean recognized annoyance in her eyes. “Now that he’s gone, Zeke stopped paying for that big chunk of the rent.”

“And Armin moved in with Annie,” Jean finished saying.

“And I’m in that huge place all by myself,” Mikasa said, taking another sip from her bottle. “Scraping my bank account to pay utilities, taking any modeling job that comes up besides working at Sasha’s restaurant, two months behind on rent.”

“Did Sasha offer you money yet?” Jean asked, recalling all the times their friend had tried to hand him checks for his rent.

Mikasa smiled. “A couple of times. But I don’t want to be a burden to her. As good as the restaurant is doing, having her own business can be tricky. One bad luck streak and she’ll be needing that money she offers me.”

“What about a roommate?”

“Nobody I know can afford rent there. I don’t want to disturb Niccolo and Sasha, and Levi has plenty on his plate. And it’s impossible to find a place this late in the year,” Mikasa said, sighing tiredly again. “Do you know how close I am to modeling underwear? A man in this shady company offered me so much money for nudes the other day—”

“Move in with me.” Jean blurted out, and his words were followed by excruciatingly long minutes. Mikasa rested her back against the seat, scrutinizing him with those perfect, serious eyes. “I don’t mean in a weird way. I mean, my rent is much less than yours must be. But ever since Marco left, it’s been harder to afford it on my own. I could use a roommate, and all the people I’ve interviewed were weirdos.”

“Won’t Marco be angry?” Mikasa asked politely. “Won’t he be upset that a girl is living with you?”

Jean smiled. “We’re not together anymore.”

“No?” She said, looking genuinely surprised. “Why? What happened? I thought—”

“Neither wanted a long-distance relationship, or had the money to afford one,” Jean explained, surprised at the lack of pain in his words when he spoke of what had happened. Perhaps, the exhaustion throughout the year had forced his heart to get over a heartbreak quickly.

“Besides,” Jan added, arching his eyebrow in her direction. “I know for a fact that hizuran people are beautiful. I couldn’t deny him having fun over there. So, we decided to stay as friends.”

Mikasa smiled, and Jean blushed. “You’re a good friend.”

“I’m not,” Jean replied, leaning back against his seat as well. “I had no idea about you and Eren. You’re our friend since high school, and I had no idea you’d gotten your heart broken too this year. So, I’m not that good of a friend.”

Mikasa rested her hand at her sides, her pinky almost touching his, leaning back to catch sight of the night sky. “You’re in no obligation to carry anyone’s pain, Jean, let alone mine.”

“What do you mean? You’re my friend.”

“I know. We are friends,” Mikasa said quickly, as if noticing the hint of pain her previous words had caused in him. “What I mean is…I knew it was going to happen. I saw the change in Eren. I knew he wouldn’t want to stay put. He was more in love with the idea of freedom than with me. I should’ve ended it a long while ago. So, no need to carry pain that was dragged on for no purpose.”

“And you didn’t want to go with him?”

Mikasa thought about it for a moment. He could hear Reiner and that Pieck girl singing at the top of their lungs inside, as well as Connie’s laughter. And yet, all his mind was set on was her, how her eyes focused on his as she spoke every word, how a bit of lipstick had smudged on the edges of her mouth due to their drinking. Jean had always been aware of Mikasa’s beauty, but he hadn’t been truly enthralled by it in a very long time.

“I don’t think I would’ve gone,” she said at last. “I love the island. I love my home. I want to have a peaceful life here, grow old here. I like seeing new places, but I don’t want to spend my life wandering. He did.”

Jean nodded, understanding her fully. All he’d ever dreamed of was a nice house in the inner districts, alongside the wife -or husband- of his choosing.

“Besides,” Mikasa said with a quiet laugh. “He never asked me to come.”

“What a fucking idiot.”

Mikasa blinked in surprise. “I’m not mad at him, Jean. You don’t need to be in my behalf.”

“I’m not mad on your behalf,” Jean said, shaking his head, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows, feeling all of that frustration he’d had towards Eren in high school come back in full. “What kind of idiot do you have to be to break the heart of someone like you?”

“Someone like me?”

“You’re fucking amazing!” Jean said, shocked by the confusion in her face. “Mikasa, you’re gorgeous, smart, strong. You can lift a whole hundred pounds without breaking a sweat…who would want to break your heart?”

Another chuckle escaped her throat, and she gave him a look that he could only describe a sweet. “Thank you,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “My heart was breaking the whole last year we were together, though. I guess in a way, him leaving helped me heal.”

“I hope he falls into a pit.” Jean muttered, then shook his head. “No, I hope I fall into a pit, for not noticing you were hurting before.”

“You had your thing with Marco moving away,” Mikasa replied. “If anything, I was the jerk for not helping you like Connie and Sasha did. I was too focused on trying to force Eren to be happy with me.”

“Still, I should’ve helped.”

“You’re helping now,” Mikasa replied, lifting her pierced eyebrow. “You’re letting me be your roommate, aren’t you?”

Jean took a deep gulp of his beer before speaking. “So, you are taking up on my offer?”

“Yes,” Mikasa said, setting her eyes on the section of town in which he lived in. “If you take up on my offer.”

“Which is?”

“The agency wants a couple male models,” she said, elbowing him playfully. “I heard from Sasha how you’re killing yourself at that part time. This money won’t be great, I do warn you, but it will be better, and you’ll have more time to study.”

The color traveled to his cheeks yet again. “I-I’m not a model, Mikasa.”

“No need to be modest, Kirstein,” she said, scrutinizing him again, her gaze sensing a shock of electricity across him. “I saw you on that beach trip we did. You’ve got nothing to envy from the models.”

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, and Jean’s mind became a storm. Had she just told him she found him attractive? No, it couldn’t be. She’d just said he had nothing to envy from male models. But that was just a creative way to call someone hot, wasn’t it? She had no reasons to call him hot, however.

“Jean, I think—”

“Niccolo!” Sasha’s shouted drunkenly, startling the two in their seats. It wasn’t until they turned in her direction that Jean realized how close their faces had been to each other.

“Alright, alright. Do it again.” Niccolo laughed, sounding quite drunk himself. Sasha grabbed her shirt and tightened it around her waist, showing him her bloated stomach.

Niccolo giggled. “It’s adorable! It does look like you’re pregnant,” he said between snorts. “How many garlic buns did you eat back there?”

“Why are you calling your baby a garlic knot, Niccolo?!” Sasha half-laughed, half cried, only causing Niccolo to laugh harder. They were soon on the floor, struggling to catch their breath because of their laughter, and Jean was grateful for the protective mesh at the edge of the balcony.

“They’re drunk.”

“They’re high.” Mikasa said, casting a glance inside. “Ymir and Historia are here.”

“No wonder they’re high.” Jean chuckled. Historia wore a beautiful pink dress, looking as happy as ever with Ymir’s hands around her waist. Ymir, as always, wore a dark suit. As always, she was more focused on kissing Historia’s neck than the conversation around her. They’d been inseparable since their wedding, and from the sparkling necklace around Historia’s neck, Jean supposed their business was growing well.

Mikasa grabbed his sleeve. “Do you want to go get some?”

“You smoke that stuff?” Jean asked, wondering when he’d smoked anything last.

“Not really.” Mikasa admitted, looking at Sasha laughing on the floor while placing a thousand drunken kisses on Niccolo’s forehead. “It looks like they’re having fun, though.”

“We could do it to celebrate,” Jean said, shrugging. “You know, each of just found a good roommate and we might not be as broke from now on.”

“You are sure about the roommate matter?” Mikasa asked, frowning. “You’ll have to take a few visits from my uncle.”

“I’ll cope.” Jean said, looking at Niccolo and Sasha. “Are you sure? What if Eren returns and gets mad?”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “He can get as mad as he wants. I won’t care.” She said, and from her tone of voice , Jean knew she was done talking about Eren for the time being. She looked more annoyed at the inconveniences that Eren had caused her than heart broken. Perhaps, the exhaustion had forced her to get over a heartbreak quick, as well.

Jean offered her his hand. “Shall we, my lady?”

“You’re still an idiot,” Mikasa said, intertwining her arm with his. “Thank you, by the way.”

“No, thank you,” he said, using his other hand to take their bottles. He offered one to her and lifted his own. “Toast? For roommates?”

“For roommates.” Mikasa said. Their bottles clang together, their sound foretelling a change of wind for the two, perhaps.

______________________

Gabi walked along the bookstore holding onto Falco’s arm. She and her mother spent summers with her cousin Reiner in the island. And despite this being her fifth year visiting him and despite the luxuries of his apartment, she missed him terribly each time she left. So, she clung to him before and after her journeys, enjoying their time together as if it were a treasure.

“Want to get an ice cream afterwards?” He asked.

“The place by the zeppelin museum?” Falco nodded in response, and Gabi smiled widely. “Alright, then. But it’s my treat this time.”

“Let me buy the comic books this time, at least,” he said, pulling out a book with a few giants on the cover. “This looks good, doesn’t it?”

Gabi frowned at the sight of the naked giants. “I hate historical fiction.”

“It’s not like titans were real, Gabi,” Falco said, running through the pages. “This is mostly political-oriented. See? They even consulted a historian from Paradis to write it.”

“Hey, I know her!” Gabi said excitedly, looking at the picture of the main consultant from the work. “She’s the head of the anthropology museum at the island. She’s Reiner’s friend.”

“Is she?” Falco said, his eyes wide as he stared at the picture of Mikasa, who wore a fancy pantsuit and had her hair up in a ponytail. Unlike at the parties, her make up in this was formal, no bright pink lipstick, no dark eyeshadow. “She’s really pretty, isn’t she?”

“Falco!” Gabi said, then took a second look at the picture. “You’re right, she’s really pretty. Her husband is a lucky guy. He always says it himself.”

“Oh, she’s married?”

“Yeah, she married a friend of hers, I think. It was a late spring wedding, so I didn’t get to go. They’ve got a baby on the way and everything,” Gabi said, scrunching up her nose. “He’s friends with Reiner too, but I can’t recall the guy’s name.”

“Gabi, you see those people every summer,” Falco said, his kind face showing a slight hint of repeoach. “You should at least learn their names.”

“Reiner has way too many friends for me to remember,” Gabi replied, not wanting to admit that she did need to be a little more polite to them. “I do remember he had a bit of a horse face.”

“A horse face?” Falco said, horrified. “This woman here married a guy with a horse face?”

Gabi smiled amusedly. “She seemed quite smitten by him. Every time I go and they’re there, they’re always all lovey dovey. Kissing, hugging, they can’t keep their hands off each other,” she said, tilting her head to the side with a flirty smile. “Besides, it was just a nickname. The man is handsome, and taller than most guys, too.”

“Gabi, don’t talk so kindly about married men.” Falco said, closing the magazine with his cheeks flushed. Although his expression caused her own smile to grow wider.

“Are you jealous?” She teased, then placed a fleeting peck on his lips. “You’re way more handsome than horse face. And, you still have more years to grow. I’m sure that you’ll be taller than him by when we get married.”

“Gabi!” Falco said, flushing harder.

[gumnut-logic]

Callisto (Part 8 - Recovery)

Prologue 1. Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 2. Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 3. Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 4. Arrival - Bit 1 | Bit 2 5. Orientation 6. Rescue Site 7. Investigation 8. Recovery

This one is over 4600 words to the point I considered cutting it in half. But lots happens so I’ve posted it whole. Now I just need to play catch up because I had a crappy couple of weeks and now I’m only about 500 words ahead of this. I have a few days off coming up, so wish me luck :D

As always, many thanks to the amazing @janetm74​ @scribbles97​ @tsarinatorment​ @vegetacide​ and science officer @onereyofstarlight​ You guys have helped me make this what it is. I so hope you are enjoying it.

For the first time in this story, I’ve slightly gone off plan and have had to add in a chapter because of it. Here’s hoping I can keep this going. We are now at 35,000 words which is approximately halfway.

Warnings: some whump.

Thank you for all your support with this fic. I doubt I could do it without all the cheerleading and support. You guys are just amazing ::hugs you so much::

Enjoy!

-o-o-o-

Jeff Tracy was a man of action and drive. Eight years in the depths of space had eroded the edges of his impatience, but hadn’t eliminated it.

So, sitting in Callisto Base watching his family work and not having anything much to do wasn’t in the best interests of his mental health.

But what could he do?

He had set up a kind of mobile control despite not being in control of anything. John had linked him into everything and he and Lee had pretty much taken over one of the command centres of the Base.

Grae hovered the entire time.

Jeff watched the well-oiled machine that was International Rescue with no small amount of pride. He watched them track down the lifesigns, survey the site, drill extra access, deploy Thunderbird Four and-

“Gordon!”

“Guys, get out of there! Now!”

The holographic image of the lake swelled and swept his sons away.

Jeff was on his feet without thinking.

Three of the five life signs on the strategy map darted erratically, one coming to an abrupt stop against the cavern wall, while the two others travelled some distance up the main tunnel before stopping suddenly.

“Thunderbird Five!”

“Please hold.”

Jeff’s eyes widened. “John!”

Data was suddenly thrown at his terminal. His sons’ vitals sprung up and he was relieved to find them all strong. A sitrep appeared a moment later tracking where the wave had come from, probabilities of a recurrence, a site safety scan and a feed from the Dragonfly Pod.

Its lights were still on, one shining at an angle across the tunnel it had landed in, the other reflected back a glare of white and a blue as beautiful as an Earth sky in the early evening.

The first one explained why.

One of the Dragonfly’s legs was sticking up out of a solidified white mass.

Of ice.

The math added up in his head very abruptly and he was suddenly moving.

It was a sign that Lee and he still had that unspoken communication as the engineer didn’t even ask and just moved with him, following his mad run to the hangar without a word.

Alan and Gordon had left the second Dragonfly pod at the Base and Jeff was ever so grateful.

“What’s…where are you going?” Grae’s eyes were wide as they all skidded to the side of the pod.

“Three of my sons are buried in ice. Where do you think I’m going?”

He didn’t bother to wait for an answer, climbing up into the cockpit with a leap of agility he hadn’t felt for years. With a nod from Lee, he snapped the hatch shut and grabbed controls he hadn’t used outside of a simulator in over a decade.

It was like returning home.

The Dragonfly took off for the airlock far above as the doors began their opening sequence without request.

-o-o-o-

John reacted the way he always reacted.

Without thought. There was no time for thought.

Hands moving across his console dragged as much information as he could from the static-fouled scans.

He blinked as the interference cleared somewhat.

A worried plea from his father John had no time for. A flick of his wrist and he mirrored his sources to his father’s terminal.

All three of his brothers had come to a halt. Gordon was still in the cavern, Four slammed up against a wall. Scott and Virgil were in the tunnel. Vital signs were still good, but there was no response from any of them.

No matter how much he yelled into comms.

One of the beacons had been swept away, causing the interference to intensify in that area, but the readings he had added up to a scenario that echoed past hell.

His father was already moving.

“John?” Alan’s voice was professional but sported an edge of terror.

“I’m coming down, Thunderbird Three.” He grabbed his helmet. “Dad is on his way out there. Do we have enough parts for a third Dragonfly?”

His brother’s voice solidified with the plan of action. “Yeah, Virg overcompensated as always. He packed stuff in as if he was planning to stay out here for a couple of years.”

John didn’t answer that. “Assemble another pod. I’ll see you down there asap.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

“Eos, align the Excel with the danger zone. Initiate elevator deployment.” He flung himself through his ‘bird. “I need as much information as you can give me. Relay on descent.”

“Yes, John. It appears that the water volume of the lake increased dramatically before the incident, but has now returned to its previous status.”

John slipped through the airlock to the elevator. He hit his comms. “Michael, there has been an incident. I am going down to the surface. You have the Excel.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five. I will monitor.”

“Liaise with Eos.” He killed the connection as he entered the cockpit, his seat rotating towards him in welcome. “Eos, be nice.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Too bad. We need him.”

She grumbled in a way reminiscent of Virgil before coffee.

Maybe she had been taking notes.

He ignored it. “Send all information to my terminal here.” The elevator shuddered as it disengaged from Five and began its descent. The cockpit lit up with holograms.

He eyed the replay of the static-riddled scan as the lake swelled and overcame his brothers.

Four had been swept out of the water and washed ashore violently. Scott and Virgil, standing on that shore, hadn’t stood a chance.

One gloved hand reached up to poke the playback, pause and rewind. There had been a local seismic disturbance just before, epicentre to the north-east by a few hundred metres. Minor on an Earth scale, but since Callisto supposedly hadn’t had any major crustal movements in eons, it was unusual in the extreme.

“Eos, pull the Base seismic records. Have they detected anything like this before?”

The elevator’s thrusters fired as it hit the faint atmospheric boundary.

“Their system has recorded several incidents, but nothing of this magnitude.” Eos’ voice shifted to one of concern. “Incidents have been increasing recently. There have been three in the past month. John, one was recorded by the Base system the same day as the five members of their crew disappeared.”

“What? Why wasn’t that mentioned?”

“Unknown.”

He stared at the scan. “Do we have any source for more water to reach the lake?” It hurt his physics sensibilities. Water should not exist as a fluid in this environment at all.

“None within sensor range.”

Damnit. He was used to being able to see everything.

“Deploy a net of probes. I want everything in a ten thousand kilometre radius as crystal clear as you can get it.” If there was a pun in there, he refused to acknowledge it.

“Yes, John. That will cover the entire surface of the moon.”

“Exactly.” Something weird was happening here and he wanted to know what. If he had to throw everything Thunderbird Five had at it, he would.

The elevator thrusters fired again and the moon appeared around his windows, followed by the striking red of Three.

“Alan, are you ready?”

“Pod assembled, Thunderbird Five. Awaiting your orders.” There was no tremble in his brother’s voice, but there was an anxious impatience.

The elevator touched down with a soft thud. Eos’ control was perfect. “Thank you, Eos.”

“You are welcome, John.” A pause. “Be safe.”

His lips tightened a little. “FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

She didn’t answer as he stepped out onto the moon.

-o-o-o-

Alan didn’t remember his mother, but he had four brothers who did and he knew far too well the pain of what had happened when she was taken from them.

The fact that three of those brothers were now buried in the space-ice equivalent of an avalanche was absolutely terrifying.

The water had managed to travel some distance before solidifying and trapping everything. As far as Alan could tell, his brothers were encased in ice.

If they had been on Earth their lives would be in peril. In space, they were at least wearing their spacesuits. But spacesuits could be damaged.

He didn’t let himself follow that train of thought. He couldn’t afford it right now. Instead, he followed procedure.

That was what procedure was for.

It was a matter of minutes before John was stepping off the space elevator, his tall brother as confident and professional as ever.

Part of Alan was still surprised when John directed him to take control of the pod. Perhaps it was because Alan was used to the control freak habits of his two eldest brothers?

“Get us down there Alan.” John was distracted, glaring at his wrist projector.

He didn’t need to be told twice. With John secure in the backseat, Alan threw them down the gaping hole his ‘bird had dug, through the mole’s extension and into the dry cavern below.

The dragonfly latched onto the beacons and they darted down the correct tunnel, glittering rock streaking past them as their twin beams of bright light hit everything.

Including the mass of white that that suddenly swelled up on one side of the tunnel.

It wasn’t quite a wave, more a slosh of water, frozen in motion.

“What the hell?”

“Edge down the tunnel a little further, Scott is...” But they were already there and the flash of blue and red was obvious.

His eldest brother was embedded in the ice halfway up the wall. Alan only had breath as he yanked the dragonfly to an abrupt halt, her claws leaving gouges in the ice. “Scott!”

He was out of the pod as fast humanly possible.

One of his brother’s arms was dangling free and Alan reached for it. “Scott?”

Limp, gloved fingers.

John already had a hand laser out and the red of its beam was cutting ice in a loose silhouette of their brother’s body. As they worked him free, bits of ice fell away to the floor. It was fragmentary. Somewhere between solid and hard packed snow. The water had obviously frozen so quickly, it was aerated enough to stiffen fully.

Fortunately, because Alan had the sudden realisation that spacesuits or no, if his brothers couldn’t expand their ribcages, they couldn’t breathe regardless. The sudden relief sprouted new terror.

John helped Alan lower their big brother to the floor.

“Sc…Scott?”

For a second, Alan thought it was John speaking, but his astronaut brother answered, voice urgent. “Virgil?”

No response.

“Thunderbird Two, status!” John was moving, long legs leaping in the low gravity, propelling him back to the pod. He reached inside and pulled out a large torch. “Alan, attend to Scott.” And then his brother was running further down the tunnel, light bouncing ahead of him, holographic map hovering over his wrist.

A further spark of terror was smothered in Alan’s brain as he turned back to his prone and unconscious eldest brother and began chipping and melting ice to free him.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was lying flat on his back staring at white lit up by his helmet lights.

It took him a few solid minutes to realise exactly what he was looking at. His brain felt sluggish and was hurting like hell. He really needed more painkillers.

He automatically tried to calculate how long it was since his last dose and came up blank. There was time missing.

This realisation was quickly followed by the discovery that he wasn’t able to move.

God, his brain was slow. The first thought that came to mind was that yet another building had fallen on him. It happened far more often than he was willing to admit.

But then where was his exosuit?

He blinked slowly.

One arm was caught at an awkward angle and was protesting its position. His legs seemed to be splayed out evenly, though and his other arm seemed happy enough. Hell, there wasn’t really even much weight on him. He had definitely had worse.

But his chest was tight and breathing shallow. Something had him in its grip and he had to force down the visuals that came with that.

Not being able to move always sucked.

He really wished his head would stop hurting.

“Sc..Scott?” It was instinctual. In trouble, call for his big brother.

Need a hand.

“Virgil?” John’s voice. Johnny had the power to call Scotty, to get him help.

He opened his mouth to answer, but something shifted in the ice...ice...it was ice! Memories slammed into him of ice and snow and trapped and oh god...his sluggish brain couldn’t handle it.

“Thunderbird Two, status!”

John’s voice shook him.

Um, um…his heart was beating a mile a minute. He fought for control.

“Virgil? Son?”

Dad.

His father’s voice set off both relief and fear. Relief because of a deep-seated trust in his own father.

Fear because where was Scott? Scott should be here.

But Scott had been with him when the whatever had hit him.

Had hit him.

Water.

Space.

Callisto.

Sparkling crystal flickered in his mind’s eye.

“Scott?”

“Your brother is in good hands.”

Even his sluggish brain could see that as a non-answer. “Dad?”

“We’re digging you out.”

Oh.

As if to emphasize that statement there was a red flash and the world around him hissed. He closed his eyes as the light stabbed into his hurting head.

“Dad? Gordon?”

“Nearly there, son.”

Virgil’s heart clenched.

They uncovered his head first and Virgil teared up at the sight of his father’s worried expression above him. John was there as well, darting in and out of sight, obviously the source of the laser light.

“Johnny…”

There was a crack in the ice.

Ice.

His mind blanked in terror again.

Too many memories.

Far too many.

“Virgil! Look at me!” Dad’s voice held command and he had no choice but to obey. “You are safe.” His hand was being held and Virgil realised it had been cut from the ice. He tried to move his other arm, every heavy-lifting muscle he had straining against its restriction.

Another crack of stressed ice, a yelp from John and Virgil’s arm was suddenly free, ice fragments raining down on him.

Encouraged, he began working on his feet.

“Virgil, stay still just a moment longer.” John’s voice was strained.

Virgil wanted out.

“Virgil.” His Dad grabbed his flailing hand forced him to look at him, grey eyes reflecting the white ice. “Hold still, John is cutting you out.”

Yes, John was cutting him out. Red flickered amongst the white. Virgil swallowed and attempted to get the panic under control and found that he was trembling.

Damn.

He was a rescue operative. He should be calm.

The remaining weight on his belly was removed and he was finally able to take a deep breath.

It helped ever so much.

He closed his eyes and sought his centre.

And fell back on procedure.

If Scott was down, International Rescue was now his responsibility. He needed to be in control.

In control.

By the time John lifted the remaining ice off his legs, Virgil had found himself again. He clambered out of the ice as fast as he possibly could and shot to his feet.

And nearly fell flat on his face for the effort.

His father grabbed him and prevented his fall. “Virgil, sit down.”

There was a flicker of a medscanner, but Virgil was too busy assessing the situation to care. “Scott?”

“With Alan. Unconscious, but safe.”

“Gordon?”

“Still in the cave. Thunderbird Four is silent. I sent Lee. John is following him down.”

Damn. Virgil shook the last of the ice stuck to his uniform, straightened his baldric and took a step towards the direction of the cave, but was halted by a firm grip on his arm.

��You’re not going down there.”

Virgil spun on one foot and the world in all its glittering glory spun with him. “Gordon is down there.”

“John and Lee have him. You were buried in ice, Virgil.”

To his ultimate shame, Virgil shuddered at the concept.

But Gordon...

That grip on his arm tightened. “You’re coming with me.”

Virgil straightened, forcing steel into his spine. “With Scott unconscious, I am in command. I need to be down there.”

“No, you don’t.” His father took a step back up the tunnel, obviously intending to drag Virgil if he had to.

Virgil was no longer the scrappy kid who wanted to play with his paints instead of cleaning his room, and he stood fast.

His father had been in space a long time and his strength had paid the price.

There was no competition.

Buried in ice or not.

“Dad, I am going down to help with Gordon. Scott needs you. I’ll meet you up there the moment Gordon is safe.”

The need to be in two places at once, or more correctly four places, at least, was a common feeling Virgil had to ignore.

Gordon was the priority.

“I need an analysis of what happened. There was a wave. Why? See to Scott and Alan.” He reached up and gently peeled his father’s grip of his arm. “Thank you for helping me. Now I have to go help my brothers.” Turning he hit his comms, asked John for a sit rep and hurried down the tunnel.

He did not look back.

-o-o-o-

Scott had a headache.

That was the first hint of reality and not a new one in his life. He often woke with headaches, the only remaining question was what caused it this time.

“Hey, Scott, are you with us?”

Alan.

Several factors hit home at once. He was wearing his helmet, hence his uniform and Alan, only Alan, had said his name.

Mission.

He was sitting up before his brain had filled him in on the fact he was millions of miles away from home and gravity was a whole different thing on Callisto.

“Whoa!” Hands grabbed him. Hands that definitely belonged to Alan. The astronaut was crouched over him with worried eyes. “Take it easy. You might have a concussion.”

Head injury then.

“Mission status.”

“John’s gone after Gordon. Virgil is awake and out of the ice.”

Gordon. Gordon had been in the water. The weird water.

The very idea of Virgil being buried in ice again awoke horrors he did not want to face.

“Help me up.” Scott rolled himself over, ignoring the protests from his brother to stay put. His head protested very loudly and it became very apparent that the supposed head injury was not impressed with any movement.

Ow.

But, mission.

“Scott, what are you doing?” Another set of hands grabbed at him, which was probably a good thing because he was going down if they hadn’t. As it was, the whole world shifted as he was forcibly lowered to sit on the white, white ground again.

There was a flicker of yellow light and muttering from his youngest brother. “We need to get him back to base.” Alan’s voice was worried.

But Gordon. “I’ve got to go help Gordon.” He tried to stand up again, but too many hands held him down. His shoulders were grabbed and he found a pair of grey eyes staring at him. “Dad? Gordy is in danger.”

“I know son. John, Lee and Virgil will see to him.”

Virgil. He blinked. “Virgil was with me!” Again he struggled to get up.

His father held him down. “Virgil is very determined that he is fine. You, however, are not. You have a concussion. I will take you back to the Base and you will rest. Alan will help his brothers.”

“But-“

The hands on his shoulders squeezed. “Do I have to ask Virgil to reinforce that order?”

Virgil? Order? God, his head hurt.

But this was Dad. Dad knew what to do in space. Dad was...Dad was...

“Scott, you with me?”

He was shaken just a little and his head hated him for it. A groan and his hand encountered his helmet. Augh.

Space sucked.

“C’mon, Scotty, let’s get you into the pod.” Alan’s voice was gentle and professional. He was so proud of his little brother. “Yeah, well, I learnt from the best. Up you get.”

He was pulled slowly to his feet and he had to bite down or lose whatever the hell it was he had eaten last. There were steps and then he was sitting and familiar restraints were holding him in place.

He closed his eyes.

Gordon. He had to help Gordon.

“Your brothers will help him, Scott, you know that.”

But-

His world shook as the pod lifted. He glimpsed the back of his father’s helmet. Dad. Dad was driving. Dad had control.

He could let go.

-o-o-o-

Alan swallowed as their father launched the pod back down the tunnel, its headlights sparkling.

He had reported Scott’s status the moment they had the medscanner’s results and had received a very abrupt acknowledgement from Virgil.

It was unusual to have Virgil in command in space. It wasn’t his native environment and he didn’t venture into it very often. It, of course, wasn’t the first time, and Alan trusted Virgil with his life. But this was Alan’s turf, he needed to be there to help.

He leapt into the remaining dragonfly and dashed off down the tunnel.

It got tighter and tighter as he flew closer to the Crystal Cave, his access blocked by frozen lake water. For a moment he thought he was going to have to abandon the pod, but he was just able to squeeze through the entrance.

The lake was exactly as it had been. Calm and glittering in the pod’s headlamps. He turned slowly on the rocky beach to find Four, free of ice, jammed up against the wall beside the tunnel entrance. She was on her port side, cabin rammed into the rock.

Alan’s heart clenched as he set the dragonfly down.

Both John and Virgil along with Uncle Lee were attempting to gain access via the rear hatch. The ‘bird was made for water, but on the very rare occasion such as this, Brains had built space capable redundancies into her airlock.

How many submersibles in this universe were also space capsules in disguise?

But all this was redundant if the seals had been compromised.

A quick query of Thunderbird Five reassured Alan that Gordon’s vitals were still strong. There was still no response from their fish brother, but he was alive and relatively stable and Four reported no seal ruptures.

Yet.

Virgil grunted as the back of Four was slowly cranked open. Uncle Lee and his engineer brother were putting all their muscle into heaving the hatch open while John slipped into the vehicle.

A moment later the door was shoved shut again and Alan was surprised to see Virgil seal it with a hand laser.

Tired eyes caught Alan’s. His brother didn’t need to explain why he was doing what he was doing.

“Inner airlock door is now compromised.” John’s voice was calm and sure despite the subject matter. “Proceeding to the cockpit.”

Alan stared at Virgil a moment, caught by his haggard expression before hurrying around Four towards her belly viewports.

All he could see was Gordon’s feet. No matter how he shone his hand light through those windows, he could see nothing more. Gordon’s pilot’s seat obscured everything.

For it to be in that position it had to have been severed off its mountings.

Hell.

Determined, Alan scrambled around Four’s nose and tried to find her front viewports. Everything was obscured by rock.

Crystal glittered mockingly at him, an almost scarlet chunk of quartz sticking out of the wall and falling over as if it was reaching for Four.

Alan fought the urge to shove it away from his brother’s ‘bird.

“Cockpit hatch is non-operational. Eos, relay through my suit sensors and give me a detailed report on Gordon’s position.” John’s voice was ever so calm.

Alan wanted to scream.

He hurried back to the lower ports and stared at his brother’s feet.

Again Gordon had been crushed in his ‘bird. How hurt was he this time. How long would he take to recover?

Virgil spoke up and Alan was startled to find his engineer brother and Uncle Lee standing beside him. Virgil was standing ramrod straight. “Eos, can you pull any medical data?”

“Please hold.” The AI’s voice was crisp and professional. “Compensating for interference.”

Damned interference. Alan was so sick of static. Their comm lines and sensor feeds were usually perfect. What was it with this place?

A big hand gently wrapped around his arm.

“I’m fine, Virgil.”

The hand did not let go.

“Thank you, Eos.” How did John stay so calm? “Cutting into the cockpit now.”

Virgil’s wrist control lit up and projected the sensor data he had requested from Eos. True to this place, parts flickered and there was some pixilation, but a clear outline of both Gordon and John inside Four was all the reassurance it could be.

Gordon was curled up on the ‘floor’ of his ‘bird, on what had been Four’s portside viewports.

The laser cutter in John’s hand flared up brightly as he cut through the cockpit hatch mechanisms.

Red light flickered through the marine acrylic enough to catch on Alan’s uniform.

“His right arm is broken again.” Virgil sighed. “He’s going to be so pissed.”

“I’m in.” And John was. Light lit up the viewports, quickly followed by the yellow of a medscanner.

“Oh, thank god.” Beside him, Virgil visibly deflated in relief. The hologram lit up with Gordon’s full medical details. A red alarm hovered over one arm where the break snapped his right ulna and his head had an orange flag that pinpointed a likely concussion. But other than that, Gordon appeared whole and safe, his spacesuit undamaged and airtight. Alan’s shoulders dropped almost as much as Virgil’s.

“He’s safe to move, John.” No doubt John knew that, but Virgil obviously had a need to confirm it anyway. He had a habit of doing that. Alan wasn’t really sure who it was for, Virgil’s brothers or himself.

The next few moments involved cutting open the rear hatch of Four again. This time there was the hiss of escaping atmosphere as Virgil took the entire door off the sub, no longer needing to worry about Gordon’s suit integrity.

John emerged carefully carrying his unconscious brother, Gordon’s helmeted head limp on one shoulder, his arm in an emergency splint, no doubt from one of Four’s first aid packs.

“Vincent, I’m thinking you boys need to take your brother back to base.”

Alan suddenly realised they were a pod or two short to carry all of them. There were five operatives and only one pod.

Uncle Lee eyed Virgil, his lips thin. “Albert, you could fly George while Vincent, John and I dig out the other pod.”

Virgil shifted his feet as he translated that, and Alan frowned at him. His engineer brother was wrecked. Alan could see it in his eyes. Understandable

Virgil’s nod was firm, regardless. “FAB. Alan, you’re with Gordon. John, what is the impact of the interference on Eos’ capability to pilot the pod if necessary?”

Their space brother was looking down at Gordon’s face frowning. “Eos is deploying a moon-wide probe net. We can use them to strengthen the signal. I think that above ground, Thunderbird Five should be able to pilot reliably. I would not recommend attempting it underground.”

Virgil nodded again before striding over to Alan’s pod and, climbing up and throwing the hatch back, began reconfiguring the backseat to transport their injured brother.

Alan hurried over to help and within minutes, John had secured their unconscious aquanaut brother prone on his side in the back of the pod.

Silent, eyes closed, non-responsive.

Alan took off smoothly and with as much care as possible, flew back up the tunnel, heading above ground and back to Callisto Base.

His last glance at the Crystal Cave outlined the shapes of two brothers and an uncle standing ever so alone in a giant cavern that had tried to kill three of his brothers.

-o-o-o-

Next

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter Three

(Gif's not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Three starts after the cut. (Chapter Two can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

Chapter Three

Chapter warnings: Smut, alcohol consumption (moderate), mentions of contraception and of pregnancy.

I think that’s it, but this chapter killed my brain – it was very difficult to write and I feel like I botched it. There are various important moments in this chapter that I found very hard to translate from my brain into words. And the smut, oh my God, it’s so bad!

"You know, when you came to me all bossy and told me to lose my clothes, I had something a lot different in mind." Sy grumbled from the bed, where he was sat wearing nothing but boxer briefs.

Ada laughed and turned around, sticking out her tongue at him before going back to what she was doing, namely sorting through Sy's clothes in the walk-in closet. She slid a pair of jeans off its hangers and threw it at him without looking back. "I admit that I probably don't need as many clothes as I own, but you're definitely a minimalist."

Sy grunted noncommittally, he was not amused, but tried on the jeans all the same. They didn't fit, he couldn't pull them up past the thighs. "Hey darlin'," he called her, a hint of amusement audible in his voice.

She turned around at the pet name and then forced herself not to laugh at the sight in front of her. Sy had already been a burly man when they had met, but it seemed he had managed to gain even more muscle mass in the past few months, now looking like an absolute bear of a man. Ada grinned and tilted her head at the cardboard box at the end of the bed. "Put those in the donation pile."

"Yes, ma'am," Sy said, getting up and doing as asked.

Ada grabbed her small pencil and added another item to the list. "So, you need jeans, new boots, sweatshirts, t-shirts..." She went on, listing the items. What he needed was a whole new wardrobe and she was the woman for the mission.

Turning around, she found Sy rolling his eyes at her. "I ain't need no new t-shirts, woman. I got the black one, the red one and the khaki one."

Ada chuckled and approached him on the bed, coming to stand between his legs. It was unusual for her to be taller than him, and with him sitting on the bed and her standing up, she still didn't have that much of an advantage. With a grin, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead before pulling back to look into his eyes. Instinctively, almost an automatism, his hands found purchase on her hips.

"Last time you wore your red 'DILLIGAF' t-shirt, three separate kids stopped and asked you what the acronym stood for and you looked at me for help."

Sy held her gaze, not keen on losing the staring contest. Ada didn't want to relent but she didn't want to force him either, not after what had happened while grocery shopping. "It's okay if you really don't want to go, I won't for-"

Sy shook his head, silencing her before she could even finish. "Let's get this shopping over with. But I'm warning you: I'll be complaining the whole time."

For a moment, Ada pursed her lips, seemingly unconvinced but eventually her frown was replaced with a grin. "I would expect nothing else from you, grumpy bear," she teased before turning around, excited about the task at hand.

Sy left to get dressed but not before landing a playful smack on her ass.

°°°

It went just as Ada had imagined. Sy sat down on the sofa at the far end of the store, keeping everything in sight, and she would occasionally come up to him with suggestions. To an onlooker, they resembled a devout worshipper trying to make offerings to a very picky and very handsome god.

His replies to the items she presented to him went anywhere from 'no' to 'not a chance in hell', without forgetting the classic 'you lost your mind, darlin’'.

After visiting three stores and Ada trying to visually guess his size because Sy absolutely refused to try out any of the clothes, they had managed to get most of what he needed. It just turned out to be near recreations of the clothes he already owned, just bigger and newer. And with more child friendly texts.

They stopped for coffee by the center of the open-air mall. True to himself, Sy ordered just that - a coffee with 'none of the fancy shit'.

"You're sure you don't want to go to any of your stores?" Sy asked, watching her sip on her colorful drink.

Well, the idea was tempting but she already had more candles and blankets than necessary. And she knew he was uneasy even if he was hiding it well. "No, it's okay. I know you don't like shopping and I can just ask some friends if I really want to go." Sy hummed.

By the time Ada finished her season exclusive drink, she noticed Sy was staring at a shop window. She was almost excited that he was finally interested in buying clothes before noticing that it was some video game advertisement.

"You can buy the game, if you want. No need to stare," she teased.

He reverted his attention back to her. "It's only compatible with the new console that came out last month and that one's sold out." Ada started beaming as he spoke. "What?"

"Well... a few months ago, I came across the launch announcement on the Internet. And I had seen the old model in the study, so I knew you liked it and since you were coming home soon..."

Sy's eyes became even bluer for a moment, a huge grin threatening to illuminate his face. "Are you saying that...?"

Ada laughed, shaking her head. He looked like a kid on Christmas Day. "Yes. It's wrapped in gift paper in the basement under the utility sink."

"I love you, wife."

Again, she scoffed. "Yeah, yeah... Now let's go get you that damn game."

°°°

Later that day, or rather night, Sy wasn't even paying attention to the movie they, or rather, she was watching. He had gotten the gist of it - superheroes teaming up together to save the world - that sufficed him. His focus was entirely on his wife nested between his legs, her back resting against his chest.

When they got home from the mall and went to sort through his clothes and belongings, finally unpacking the rest of his duffel bag, Ada came across his dog tags. She asked if she could keep them. Sy frowned at the odd request but agreed nonetheless, shrugging dismissively.

Ada then proceeded to put the chain around her neck and slide the tags under her blouse. He had stared at her a little confused; she was smiling, looking all smug as if she had managed to trick him out of something valuable and not just two cheap metal tags hanging off an equally cheap chain.

"The fact that I get to have both your tags means I am very lucky to have gotten you back alive and in one piece. I don't want to ever forget that."

With his height advantage, even sitting behind her, Sy could see the chain disappearing under her pajamas and the tags resting in the valley of her breasts. Somehow, the sight made him feel even more possessive than the wedding band on her ring finger.

Things always had felt slightly uncertain with Ada, there had always been the shadow of a doubt in his mind when it came to her. They had gotten married on a whim and she knew he was a green beret, deployed most of the time. It's an entirely different thing to marry someone you get to see for a couple of weeks every once in a blue moon and to actually live, share a home with someone. When Sy had told her, he was coming home for good over the phone, he had half expected her to ask him for a divorce or to find himself alone at the airport. His face hadn't shown it, but when Ada put on the damn chain he had hated wearing in the goddamn desert where it would chafe his nape or get tangled in his chest hairs, Sy felt as happy as a sand boy.

She seemed honest when she said there was nothing going on with that Tom guy. Not that he could truly blame her if there was, even if it would have broken him. His parents had been married for over thirty-five years and his mom found a new boyfriend not even two years after his father's passing.

And yet, Ada was there, cuddling with him on the couch. She hadn't served him with divorce papers upon his arrival. Instead, they had spent the past few days pretty much glued together as they usually did when he was on leave.

Maybe it was time he started to believe that he had come home to his wife and she really wasn't going anywhere. Especially since she hadn't asked him to wear a condom ever since he got home and he hadn't seen her contraceptive pills on her nightstand either. Sy even checked the bathroom cabinet where he knew she kept some medication, but he didn't find anything there either. This morning, he had even considered asking her about it, but he figured that if she hadn't mentioned anything so far, it was because she wanted it to be a surprise and he didn't want to ruin it. Though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't going to be checking the same cabinet for pregnancy tests in the future.

"You good?" Ada asked as the film came to an end, tilting her head back but only getting a view of his beard. It made her smile, though. Sy really was her bear: big, strong and hairy.

"Yeah, I just," he stammered slightly as if waking up from his thoughts. "I was thinking we should probably change the stairs' railing into something safer before we have kids running up and down."

"Yep, that's not gonna happen," Ada chipped in, jumping off the couch before starting to fold the blanket.

"What?" Sy blurted out, turning all his attention to her. "The railing or the kids?"

"The kids," she replied nonchalantly, now laying the blanket in the basket by the sofa. "If you want to redo the stairs, that's fine. I think we could even paint them white."

In a second, Sy was up on his feet, his imposing stature crowding her. "What do you mean, that ain't happening? You don't want kids?"

Ada frowned, suddenly uncomfortable at his intense stare. "No.”

"Why did you never tell me?"

"Why did you assume kids were a given?" Ada retorted, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them. "I figured that if it was important to you, you'd have mentioned it sooner, at some point at least."

Sy had to fight the urge to yell at her, the feeling of betrayal and even anger overwhelming him. If he never spoke of it before, it was because he didn't want to have kids while he was deployed and miss their first years. Instead, he forced himself to calm down, taking a deep breath. "Is that a not now or a not ever?"

Ada looked away for a second, gathering her thoughts before moving her eyes back to him. "I got a new Mirena coil a couple of months ago, so I'm set for the next three years at least."

He had no idea what the fuck a 'Mirena coil' was supposed to be but it wasn't hard to figure out. Instinctively, his hand went to the back of head, raking through his short hair. "Just to be clear, Ada," Sy paused, his nostrils flaring, "you don't want children?"

It didn't even take her a second to start regretting her counter after it came out. "Do you?" She snapped back, the enunciation of the 'you' harsher than she had intended.

The effect was instant, her question giving him pause. Did he? Now reflecting on it, Sy realized he had never asked himself that question. It was just something that you did. First you got a house, then you found a wife and started a family. He had never thought about it as an option, just as the next step if he was lucky enough not to die in Iraq.

"I'm so sorry," Ada apologized, her tone alone expressing her regret. She took his hand, forcing him to look at her only to find her eyes glistening as she attempted not to cry. "I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't questioning your parenting skills. I know you'd make a fantastic father, Sy." Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath before opening them again, their corners wet with tears this time. "I just never saw myself having kids, but if it's something you really -"

"I ain't gonna force you to start a family with me," Sy rebuffed, offended at the very thought. The abruption of it even making Ada smile, if only briefly.

She shook her head quickly. "What I meant was that if you want to be a father, then I wish for you to become one. But... I won't be a part of that scenario."

"No." He said, dismissing the idea as soon as she voiced it, catching her hands in his and stilling them midair when she started gesticulating instead.

"No, this is important!" Ada protested. "I want you to be happy, Sy. And I won't stand in the way of your happiness. You deserve to live the life you want and if that includes a family -"

"No." Sy ordered, his tone final and resolute, silencing her instantly. He had never used this voice with her in the past, usually reserving it for the soldiers in his unit. "Stop with that ridiculous suggestion, woman." Ada blinked. It was obvious in her eyes that she wanted to argue but she didn't dare defy his hard stare.

Sy closed his eyes and swallowed, searching for the right words. "The choice between having kids with some other woman or getting to be with you, is a damn easy one. I'd rather we be a family of two than have children with some woman I could never love."

She was crying again, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. Had he said something wrong? Ada didn't let him wonder for too long, her hand fisting in his t-shirt to pull him down to her lips for a ravenous kiss, their teeth clicking together.

"You know," Ada breathed out against his lips once they parted for air. "It doesn't have to be just the two of us. I am partial to pets."

Later in bed, with his sleeping wife snoring softly and her head resting on his chest, Sy tried to process their conversation only to realize there wasn't much to process at all. It didn't feel that much like giving up on a dream, as it felt like defining the contours his future with Ada. All that mattered to him was that it was a future with the woman whose contagious laugh he had manifested in his mind time and time again to drown out the sound of gunfire and make it through. Children might have been a bonus, he wouldn’t deny that, but their absence was something he could live with. He couldn’t same the thing about Ada.

°°°

"Got your," Sy paused, frowning as he read off the label, entering the kitchen, "Willamette Valley Pinot noir. How many do you need?"

Ada looked away from the oven to find him carrying four bottles of her favorite wine. Did he think they were drunkheads? "Do you want for Tom to have to spend the night here because we're all over the legal alcohol limit and unable to drive?" She laughed.

Sy grimaced. "One bottle it is," he announced, making her laugh all the harder as he set down a single bottle on the table that was already set before casting away the other bottles in the pantry - where they did not, in fact, belong.

Just as was his habit, Sy sneaked up on his wife as she leaned over the kitchen counter, putting away the remaining ingredients and hugged her back to him with one arm. He then dipped a finger in the jar she had filled with leftover caramel and brought it to mouth.

She gasped at his manners. "You can't just stick your fingers in everything that's sweet and lick it off, Sy," Ada chided. She heard it as soon as the words left her mouth, but it was too late.

A deep laugh rumbled in his chest behind her. "Can't I?" Sy goaded her mockingly.

Ada took a deep breath. She knew where this was headed and they didn't have time. It was primordial her pie didn't overcook, and Tom would be there soon. "You know what I meant," she groaned, attempting to sound annoyed but he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Do I?" He whispered against her ear, his beard tickling her skin and his warm breath making her shiver as he slid his hand under her skirt until he was cupping her damp sex over her panties. "Are you certain about that, darlin'?"

Her hands held on to the counter and her eyes closed as he started rubbing his hand along her folds over the fabric. He was also beginning to harden behind at an impressive rate. The temptation made her whimper. "We don't have time," Ada protested, even as her head fell back against him and she leaned into his touch, silently begging for more as she not-so innocently ground her ass on his crotch.

A swift glance at the clock on the wall told him all he needed to know. They had seven minutes. It would have to be enough, Sy decided. Time being of the essence, he was determined not to waste any.

“Open up your legs for your captain, darlin’,” he rasped, his nose nuzzling in the shallow of her neck, his hands already busy bunching up the soft fabric of her skirt around her waist.

“Sy,” Ada lightheartedly protested his eagerness. The idea was certainly enticing but they truly didn’t have time and she really needed to keep an eye on the pie. “We can’t-“

“I said, open your legs,” he repeated, gritting out the words as his foot snuck between her ankles, forcing her legs open himself. Sy barely had to apply any pressure, Ada complied instantly at his tone. There were very few situations in which she let him boss her around and this was one of them.

His hands brushed over her naked thighs, enjoying the way she shivered as he did so. Sliding his fingers higher up her inner legs, Sy expertly slid the scanty lace of her thong aside in order to access her clit. Ada keened under his touch, the rough skin of his finger pads slowly circling her already swollen nub. She couldn’t decide between pressing into his touch or attempting to pull away from it; it was both too little and too much all at once. “Already so wet and I’ve barely done anything to you,” he teased, hoping to sound less worked up than he was. Sy was set on keeping the upper hand. “Tell me, what is it that you want, darlin’?”

Ada whined as he removed his fingers from her core, his hands going to her hips instead and pulling her to him, letting her feel how hard he was for her. His wife reacted by rubbing her ass against him, determined to get what she wanted without having to voice it. “Sy,” she complained when he didn’t bite the bait, still grinding on him, surely getting his jeans wet with her slick.

“That’s not how it works, darlin’,” he chastised, going back to teasing her. His touch was ghostlike, too light to provide any real satisfaction and she groaned in frustration. “You have to ask for it like a good girl.”

He felt her body tense up against his as she tried chasing the friction of his fingers where she wanted them most, but Sy drew away before she could. “I swear to God I am going to make you regret-“

Smack. Ada gasped at the sharp spank on her ass, her body bending over the counter at the impact. Her ass was just too tempting in this position and Sy was running out of patience. “Ask like a good girl,” he ordered between gritted teeth, his hand descending to palm his crotch, hoping for some relief. Her little stunt was turning him on more than it should have.

“God, Sy, just fuck me already!” She sobbed, her legs rubbing together out of their own volition but her husband stayed put, rubbing his palm of his covered cock as he watched her. He wasn’t going to give up any time soon, she realized with a strangled sigh. “Please fuck me, captain,” she whispered, relenting.

Within a second, Sy was unbuckling his belt and pulling down his zipper. His cock was red, hard and throbbing impatiently. With time running out, Sy pushed himself into her without a warning. Ada whined at the stretch, gripping at the flour covered kitchen counter as one of his hands grabbed hold of her hips, the other moving to her breast. Then he started ploughing into her like there was no tomorrow.

Ada kept whimpering his name, but even she didn’t know what it was she was asking for. Her hips were digging into the cold stone and she knew there would be bruises come morning. He had barely started fucking her and she was already beginning to tense up with how worked up she was. “Are you gonna cum for me, darlin’?” Sy grunted, his jaw tense as her inner muscles clenched all around his cock. Ada nodded meekly, unable to speak. Just when he was starting to doubt he’d be able to hold off long enough for her to climax, Ada cried out, her tight walls milking him as she came. Sy exploded inside her with a strangled groan, slowly coming to a still inside her.

The doorbell rang. At seven o’clock on the dot.

"Fucking Brits and their punctuality!" Sy cursed, still panting before pulling away from her and tepidly leaving her warmth. Ada chuckled at his reaction, holding onto the counter for support for a few more seconds until she felt somewhat steady on her feet.

Sy tucked himself back into his pants and she adjusted her skirt over her thighs again before letting out a panicked squeak and turning around. Her front was covered in the flour she has spread on counter for the pie and the white handprint on her breast where he had held on to her was very visible on her black blouse. Sy couldn't keep himself from laughing. She looked great if you asked him, especially since Tom would be going to see just how well he took care of her. "I'll go get changed and you get the door!"

°°°

Sy’s eyes widened, positively surprised as he brought the first forkful of boeuf bourguignon to his mouth. The dish hadn’t appeared particularly appetizing on the plate, but it tasted so much better than it looked. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Ada glancing at him with an ‘I told you so’ smirk.

“I received a new shipment of books at the store today,” Tom told Ada in between bites. He owned a bookstore downtown, Sy had learnt. “There’s a new murder mystery I’m sure you’ll love.”

Ada stilled, a look of excitement washing over her face. “Is there… poison?”

Tom laughed. He had expected that question from her. “Ah, yes. And it’s set in the 1920s!”

Sy glanced from the one to the other, forcing himself not to sigh. Ada’s excitement was adorable, but Tom was grating on his nerves. All the conversation so far had been about novels they’d read recently.

“Please tell me that you saved me a copy.” Ada shrieked enthusiastically, prompting Tom to laugh before he suddenly producer a hardcover out of seemingly thin air. As if she was scared that he was only taunting her with it, Ada leaned over the table and snatched the book out of his hand, a smug look on her face before she started reading the back cover. Sy looked at her and chuckled, shaking his head fondly at her almost childish elation.

"So, where did you two meet?" Tom asked, shifting his attention to Sy. "Ada always told me that it was a story for another time."

Sy's grip tightened on his cutlery. Admittedly, the strong animosity toward the man had faded, but he was still not keen on making conversation with the man. "Here in Austin," Sy replied before going back to his food. Ada had to stifle a laugh at the face Tom made at the curt answer.

"I'll tell you," she offered, capturing Tom's attention. "I had just graduated with my Masters and managed to land a PhD position here in Austin. I was freshly debarked out of France and I was only to start to start mid January but I flew over in December already - wanting to fly with my own wings and all that." Tom chuckled as she gestured derisively with the story.

"Anyway, I hadn't found a flat yet, all my stuff was in a storage unit and I had the brilliant idea of going to Vegas. On my own. In a 1979 black Camaro rental."

Sy finally looked up from his plate. "It was from 1980 and it was dark gray, not black, darling’."

Ada found herself staring curiously at her husband as he interrupted her story before laughing. That's what it took to get him to talk?

"So, it was a 1979, dark gray Camaro,” Ada correctly herself. “Anyway, obviously it did not have a navigation system and I stopped at one of the few open bars open at 5pm on Christmas Eve, ordered a beer and tried making sense of the maps I found in the glovebox, making a list of the different exits and turns I would have to make.

"Sy was there drinking with some friends – loud friends, might I add. Well, I am struggling with the maps and he must notice because he approaches me at the counter, takes of his cap and asks me if I need help, in his southern drawl. Actually, no wait, his exact words were” Ada paused, clearing her voice. “’Need some help reading that map, darling?'" Tom laughed at her ridiculous attempt to imitate Sy’s baritone voice. To Ada's surprise, Sy blushed. It was barely visible beneath his beard, but it was there and it was the cutest thing she had ever seen.

"I looked down at the map she was studying and asked her if she was headed somewhere on the east coast. She then slowly looked at me and confidently told me she was going to Nevada, until I pointed out that she was highlighting the road that went East and her face burned up, all self-conscious." Sy recounted, now laughing as well and even Tom scoffed. " I said: ‘At this point, even a navigation system can’t help you, darlin’. You’d need an escort.”

Ada bit her lip, remembering that moment clearly in her mind. She had flushed, staring at the muscular man that towered next to her. He was burly and rugged and yet still exhaled a little softness behind it all. 'Well then, will you be my escort to Vegas? I am leaving tonight,' she had blurted out before she could stop herself.

"I cannot believe you drove from Austin to Las Vegas with a stranger, Ada!" Tom said teasingly, clearly surprised by his friend’s spontaneity and recklessness.

"Yes, I made him miss Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with his family, and the best part is that we got married the day we reached Vegas on New Year’s Eve.” They had stopped a few times along the way, visited some towns and she had only known Sy for seven days when we got hitched at the kitschiest chapel imaginable. “We had to hurry to get a marriage license before the courthouse closed and a half-naked dude officiated because everyone else was already booked.”

Sy chuckled, sitting back against his chair and wrapping his arm around Ada's shoulders possessively. "She made me wear my old uniform that lasted all of fifteen minutes and was presided by an officer dressed as a cherub." He gestured at the framed picture standing on the cupboard next to them.

They looked absolutely ridiculous. Sy's uniform made him look too serious next to a tipsy Ada who wore the only white dress she had been able to find on such short notice and that definitely hadn’t been meant for a wedding because it turned out to be partly see-through under the camera flashes.

Ada shared some more stories about Vegas before excusing herself to the bathroom, the conversation instantly dying out as she disappeared, leaving both men in an uncomfortable silence until Sy’s curiosity got to him.

"So, you and her...?" Sy left his question unfinished. He wasn't sure what exactly it was that he was asking, he just wanted to know all there was to know.

In front of him, Tom gracefully dabbed him mouth with the ivory napkin and shook his head, with a tight smile. "No, nothing of the sort," the Englishman replied dismissively before Sy's inquiring stare forced him to expound. "It's not that I didn't think of pursuing something more with her, but Ada made it very clear from the beginning that she was a married woman and a faithful wife."

Sy hummed noncommittally, though internally he was reassured and maybe even elated. Mike had really filled his head with shit. Deep down, he always knew his Ada wasn't like that, it just felt good to hear it.

"My wife, for whom I left England, passed away only two months before Ada and I met. I was going through a rough patch then - and that's a euphemism. Carla had been talking to me about watching a particular film ever since it had been announced, it was an adaptation of her favorite novel." Tom explained, a smile warming up his features. "When she died before it premiered, I wasn't even sure if I even wanted to watch it without her... But the tickets had already been purchased and part of me hoped that for two hours, it would feel like Carla was sitting right next to me."

Sy listened, feeling sympathetic, if not a little uncomfortable by the man’s openness. He still wanted to dislike Tom but at the same time he couldn't imagine the wreck he'd be if Ada were to die on him.

"The cinema was packed and to accommodate a large group, Ada asked whether I minded if she sat down next to me,” Tom paused briefly, smiling at the memory. “I think it was listening to her laugh, cry and eat popcorn next to me during the movie that gave me the strength to drive home instead of off a cliff that night."

Sy gulped down the rest of his wine, still not a fan of the taste as he faced the Englishman before him. Not that he would ever say it out loud, but if he had failed to make it alive out of that godforsaken desert, he had to concede Tom would not have been the worst for Ada.

Silence fell again and Sy became uncomfortable, deciding to pour Tom some more wine. “I am glad Ada and you were there for each other.” When I should’ve been there for her myself but wasn’t, Sy thought but left it unsaid.

Tom chuckled as he observed the burly man in front of him. For all his muscles and gruff exterior, he carried the slightest of insecurities when it came to his wife. "There's a thick silver notebook Ada has kept for a couple of years. Maybe you should have a look at it.”

Sy wanted to ask what he was talking about but was interrupted by the sound of Ada's high heels clicking on the wooden floor as she made her way back to them. "I hope you weren't talking ill of me behind my back," she teased, squeezing Sy's shoulder absentmindedly. "Now, who's ready for my slightly overcooked tarte tatin.” Ada eyed her husband pointedly.

[sonofirishseas]

Low Activity, Illness, Job Burn Out, New Orleans trip, Mental Health and Murder...aka, where I’ve been for for the last few weeks.

 Hi mates!!! I’ve been wanting to post this for a bit but...yeah. I couldn’t make my brain muster the words much less put them in some sort of sensical order. 

 I’m sure it’s been noticeable that my replies are going out at a snails pace lately.  There’s been a shit storm of things contributing to this in my real life and I just wanted to explain why I may seem like I’m ghosting a bit lately. IT”S NOT INTENTIONAL! I PROMISE!

So some of you on here that I speak to regularly already have some idea what’s going on, others maybe not as much and for some reason there a bunch of new lovely people following me--so hello! I’m sorry you’ve walked into a bit of a shit storm around here. Don’t mind the mess. :)

Firstly, it’s just been that non-stop busy time of year for my fam when my kids go back to school and birthdays and all that. So not only am I working a ton to pay for all this stuff but there’s like a million fucking social events every weekend, even the ones I work. Now that was mostly last month---well, I still haven’t recovered from it physically or mentally or hell even financially. I got sick recently--NOT COVID--and just have not been able to bounce back, leaving me really physically drained all the time. On top of that, I suffer from IDA--Iron deficiency anemia--and because I haven’t had a transfusion in forever and my eating habits are even worse than normal on top of the stress and work...physically I’m held together with ducktape and denial. 

Tackling the mental health issue...stress and issues at my job have caused my mental health to steadily decline, but the last couple of weeks has been new levels of suck. I’ve been getting attacked physically at work fairly regularly by volatile residents and dealing with really shitty management and coworkers. I’ve been in a really bad, dark headspace for awhile that I’m doing my best to cope with and push through. Anxiety attacks are frequent these days. Like way more than I’ve ever had in my life. Which is no fun. 

On the subject of MURDER...there was one. At my job. A murder-suicide to be specific. It was an awful, awful event that of course has affected everyone pretty strongly. Yet once again management is shit and hasn’t really done much to take any further measures to ensure that the staff is safe, not to mention the residents. This incident has obviously compounded the burnout feeling and the mental health decline.

With life being a real turd lately, I just haven’t had time or energy to get as much out as I would like. I’m trying not to beat myself up over this because we all know real life has to come first. This is a hobby not a job. But writing has always been my go-to coping mechanism and primary self care. And honestly I don’t know how I would get through any of this crap without some of you wonderful, darling people I get to talk to on here. You know who you are!!

Today and tomorrow I have basic chores and some packing for my upcoming trip to New Orleans. As much anxiety I have about leaving the kids and hubby alone for 5 days, I know that I am in desperate need of a break. I’ll be spending the time there with my dad. I am really hoping it goes well. It’s a total toss up with that man. 

Today and tomorrow I will be trying to do a bit of a reply catch up on here, getting as much out as I am able. I’ll be on sporadically while I’m on my trip I’m sure, but probably won’t be posting any actual replies I get in that time frame until i come back home. 

I am really hoping this trip serves as a much needed break and recharge and I am looking forward to getting things going with more regularity on here again. I appreciate you all so much for your patience and writing with me and sticking around through my episodes and what not. It means the world to me.

I hope the rest of you are having a wonderful spooky season so far and are taking care of yourselves <3<3 thanks for listening to my rant

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

So due to popular demand I watched episode 2 of Walker for you guys. Part 2 of 2

The pilot was more interesting and it wasn’t interesting. But let’s continue, maybe it’s gonna get better.

So my cookies are ready now! I ate the smallest one to check if they’re good. They are. At least I have my cookies.

Apparently now they have to take a horseriding test. Walker puts the saddle on a horse. But he gets emotional. The flashback music starts. If I see more of these I will develop rabies symptoms. I’m sorry this is what we’re talking about. This is Geneviève Padalecki’s role in this show.

Walker gets on the horse. He touches the bad and the flashback sound effect plays. Rabies. “Walker are you okay?” Ramirez asks. He nods. I’m Fine Lie #9000.

No, wait. He gets off the horse. Dude it’s called handling a loss badly and they have therapists for that. Please go to therapy. There are literal professionals trained to help you with that.

He takes off his hat, which lets you know this is serious.

He goes at the bar run by the lady who was with Emily when she died. He is no longer a ranger until he passes the test. We are happy about it because he is not in the psychological conditions to be a law enforcement officer. Oh, wait, we’re supposed not to be happy about it. Honestly, I’m not sure. Is he supposed to be relatable, or are we supposed to think that he’s screwed up and should not be a cop or a parent right now? Because he’s ostensibly the latter but maybe the intentions of the writers are the former.

He says that James thinks he’s “not quite right in the head”. Mmm… are we supposed to think James is being exaggerated? Because it’s true. He’s not in the conditions to do this job… he needs to get professional mental health support, period.

They reminisce about Emily and Walker repeats the same things that made him think there’s more to the case than it appears, like the way her eyes were closed. The bartender confesses she closed her eyes. Well. That was anticlimactic.

In the meanwhile, Liam the gay brother meets his partner for lunch. He’s attractive. Liam would also be if he weren’t dressed and hair-styled like that. I dunno. The partner wants them to move to New York. They joke about dying of queso.

Augustus goes to take pictures with his mother’s camera and has a glowy flashback of his own. “He’s sensitive. He keeps a lot inside, like his father” his grandma comments to her husband. They talk about Walker fixing the house. “He wants to pick up where he left off” she says. I am hurting inside. Did they write this with the Supernatural pilot script open on the desk!?

Ramirez keeps working the case. Turns out, the horse that died wasn’t the horse it was supposed to be (a famous racing horse). Someone swapped the horses? I don’t care, actually. I’m gonna skip the case details.

Walker eats tortilla chips with queso. And begs Ramirez to let him work on the case because that’s all he knows how to do. That’s stolen from a couple Supernatural episodes when they talk about hunting, but okay.

“You know how you can see a horse’s soul in its eyes?” …no, but okay.

They’ll need to find the mysteriously disappeared horse… which is loose! In the hospital! No, not in the hospital. Just on a road. Best shot in the show, big dark horse walking around Austin.

They need to go find the horse. Obviously Walker volunteers to get the horse. “Might not be a ranger, but I’m still a cowboy”. I’m crying this is so cliché.

You know Walker is cool because he gets out of the truck without using the little step.

It’s so deep.

Oh my god. He. He follows horse dung. It’s. It’s literally a plot point. He tracks the horse following horse poop.

He finds the horse, feeds him a lil sugar cube, puts the reins on him. It’s a beautiful horse. Can’t the show be about this horse?

Billionaire bad guy (owner of the horse, set the fire to pretend the horse was dead because lots of bets were placed on the horse, but the horse was lightly injured so couldn’t win) driving towards his plane to catch his plane to escape. James and Ramirez do a car chase.

Bad guy lackey shoots at their wheels so their car stops. But Walker arrives on the horse, gets Ramirez on the horse and they ride the horse to the bad guys’ car. Ramirez gets on the car and punches the bad guys unconscious.

For some reason (I mean, budget limitations) the fighting sequences are very quick. I would have watched more of Ramirez kicking billionaire bad guy’s ass on a moving car. But it’s fine, I mean, if this show had a bigger budget they’d spend it on more cowboy hats, so it’s fine.

Walker, James and Ramirez celebrate at the bar. Apparently the bad guy’s lackey that was supposed to get rid of the horse loved the horse too much and set him free in Austin. Mood.

There’s still a third of the episode still to go, though. Drama will ensue. Indeed Liam arrives and is super pissed off at Walker for missing lunch, which he forgot because he was busy with his lil tests.

Liam says Stella didn’t show up to the game. Walker says he know where she is and gets Ramirez to come with him.

Indeed she’s thrown a party at their house. Walker asks her what she’s doing. “Being a disappointment I guess” she answers. He asks her why she missed the game. She says that it shouldn’t be so easy to get a second chance after messing up - like him. He’s like, a second chance? It’s not like a stopped being your father. Except… you did? You disappeared from their lives entirely. He calls her out for damaging the house and she’s like, it’s not even our home anymore but I’m supposed to treat it like a museum? Honestly her scenes are the only interesting thing in this show. He says he’s back now, but she says that being back isn’t enough, what makes a parent is *doing parent things*, supporting the kids.

“I wish uncle Liam had gotten custody of us when he tried” she eventually drops the big bomb. Ouch.

He’s super pissed off, takes off the hat dramatically, and drives back to Liam. He gets off the drunk and immediately assaults Liam. “You tried to take my damn kids!”

I’m flabbergasted. They. They just wrote a plotline where a gay man tried to ~steal a straight man’s children~ like it was a good idea. I mean! Liam getting custody of the kids would have been a VERY GOOD IDEA but what, we’re supposed to think he was wrong? I am so confused because I can’t tell if we’re supposed to be on Walker’s side or not. He is NOT in the condition of being a parent. The kids SHOULD be under the custody of their grandparents and/or uncle. Not because he’s traumatized by loss, but because he’s not trying at all. He keeps saying he’s trying but he’s not. He gets aggressive too easily and it could be dangerous.

Anyway the brothers have this physical fight which isn’t by far the most embarrassing thing in this show so I’ll let it slide. “You had no right!” Walker says, to which Liam replies that he gets it was rough but “you went dark! That was negligence!” Which is absolutely right and he should have gotten the custody of the kids. Liam mentions that their parents also agreed on the thing, and Walker yells “these are MY kids!” which is appalling, because being the biological father of some kids doesn’t make it okay to disappear on them for months and being mad if someone else stepped up to be their parent in your absence. “I didn’t want them to be orphans, did you!?” Liam yells back.

“I would never _take_ them, I wanted to protect them,” Liam says, and says more very reasonable things. “Even now you’re not here.” Walker yells that he is here (again, being physically in Austin doesn’t make you a parent, like Stella said), Liam replies that he’s chasing ghosts.

He brings up the things that don’t add up again, like the poker chip. I’m afraid that the narrative will prove him right, that there WAS something there and he was right to follow through the case despite everyone else telling him he was being delusional and that he should let it go and focus on the family. It would be actually good if it turned out that there was nothing there, that it was all coincidence (like the friend closing her eyes) and that he just chased ghosts for real, but I’m afraid this isn’t that kind of show. I think they’re playing it straight, that they’ll make Walker be right, and it will suck.

A note: now that he’s fighting and yelling and being angry, Jared is actually acting properly, which I don’t know if it’s a good thing or creepy.

Actually Liam says something very reasonable now, that answers will not actually satisfy him, her being gone will never make sense emotionally. The poker chip isn’t going to bring her back. He will lose everything if he keeps searching for something that isn’t there.

Now that Walker has calmed down, Jared returns to doing Jared mouth things. Oh no! Augustus watched them fight.

Oooh. Augustus gives him the present Emily was going to give him for father’s day. Poker chips. “She kept a few of the chips so she could show people” (what? But okay). Another of the mysteries was actually not a weird conspiracy at all. I suspect the narrative will make us believe there was nothing there to just pull a twist afterwards. It would be interesting if Walker were indeed looking for nothing, but I doubt that’s what they’re doing. They’re playing the tropes too straight.

Meanwhile Ramirez comes home to her boyfriend preparing a homemade dinner. She says she’s happy he’s there, and that scares the crap out of her. She wants to get both the job and the relationship right. They’re really cute and I hope their relationship doesn’t get drama-fied for drama. A healthy relationship where two partners figure out how to navigate it together, with normal minor bumps along the way they face together, would really be a good thing for the show to portray.

The next morning, Walker is making breakfast when Stella enters the kitchen. She doesn’t speak to him but gets on her phone so he starts texting her. They have a moment. He was looking for him mug and she gets it out for him. She says it reminded her of him being gone so she’d put it away. They do a bonding activity (bringing a memento from their old house to their new one), she cries, he hugs her.

Back at the ranch, Walker’s father has made him a new saddle. Gramps Walker is rough around the edges but has a hidden wisdom.

The emotional moment is kinda broken for me by the big Texas flag they have inside the house. I suppose it’s just how Texas is but it’s still funny for that very reason.

Augustus for his school project has put together a video from old family footage. Lots of flashback, but this time with a regular song and not the rabies sound effect and with the soft lighting but not the most extreme glowy effect, so it’s kinda okay.

Jared makes emotional faces and the episode’s over.

Well, at least the dead guy having been to prison wasn’t really relevant and the bad guy was a billionaire. An improvement from the previous episode.

I’m not going to give views to the youtube trailers, but I’ve been told in the next episode a new character will be introduced that is a childhood friend that is ~the Han Solo to Walker’s Luke Skywalker. *single tear of sorrow* They’re trying SO HARD to be Supernatural and they’re managing to pick the least interesting concepts of Supernatural to do so. Can’t wait to see Fake Dean. Also we haven’t seen Walker lasso a person either. I suppose I’ll have to watch more of this.

Honestly, it’s mostly boring with Stella being the only interesting part and Ramirez and her boyfriend being cute to watch. Walker is so unlikeable. You want him to get his shit together for the sake of the people around him, but not really for his sake. He should go to therapy but he is a manly cowboy man so obviously he won’t go (but I will be impressed if they actually have him see a therapist. It would be interesting to have a manly cowboy man see a therapist. But will they do it?) The idyllic flashbacks of Emily are so overdone and it’s only the second episode! Everything is cheesy.

This traditional Texan ranch aesthetic meets Austin city would be interesting if played in a way that genuinely questions the values of old, but the show doesn’t really, it uses the gay brother and the immigrant friend and the Latina cop and the Black boyfriend as props but the narrative itself doesn’t really do anything with the traditional Texan family thing. Unless they really pull the rug from under the audience’s feet and make some big twists regarding the way the narrative is presenting itself, there’s nothing really interesting or useful in the show. I’m afraid they will solve their problems by Wanting To Do Better and Sticking Together As A Family, which is just a conservative fantasy of how to fix problems.

By the way, the cookies were really good and my family loved them too.

[keeptheotherone]

Mecation: Day 1 

Thursday

I once read social media described as an indulgence of the fantasy that others are interested in the details of our lives. I’m indulging in that fantasy this week by blogging about my Mecation under the guise of travel blogging ;)

If you follow me in even the most casual way, you know I’m a nurse. While I’ve enjoyed the vast majority of my 23 years as such, I don’t recommend it during a pandemic. The last 18 months have been the second-worst mental health period of my life, demoted to that position not because of the mildness of my symptoms but simply because at 15 I didn’t have the experience or perspective to realize my life was not, in fact, ruined forever.

COVID increased my personal vulnerability as a high-risk patient and made my job immensely more difficult in countless ways both small and large, but the worst part of the pandemic for me (so far) is it took away all my coping mechanisms precisely when I needed them most. Massage, pedicures, dinner out with friends, travel ... all gone practically overnight. Pre-COVID I travelled all the time--home to my parents’, long weekends by myself (Mecation!), annual visits to BFFs, conferences, tourism, the beach, my birthday, writing trips, international trips ... I always had at least one trip in the works, usually one booked and one (or more!) in the planning stages. 

When COVID started, all my close friends and family except for two lived out of state. One of those two was out of town but close enough to get together, but the other was a few hours’ drive away. I’m single and live alone; it was the most isolated I’ve ever been in my whole life. 

With my bestest friends over 500 miles away, I still feel that way sometimes. I haven’t seen them in a year. If it weren’t for COVID, it would only be 7 or 8 months (I’ve gone every January or February since ... forever). Then again, if it weren’t for COVID, I wouldn’t have been there last September; one had been hospitalized and I needed to see she was all right with my own two eyeballs. I expect it will be at least another 7 or 8 months before we get together again, bringing the total to about 20 months. One year we saw each other 5 times in 9 months, our personal best since college. 

I was alone on Christmas. Oh, I’ve spent December 25th on my own before; I’m a nurse. I’ve worked the night of the 24th or the 25th (or both), or whatever combination that didn’t leave enough time off to drive home. But I’ve never spent the Christmas season without my parents. Sometimes the week before, sometimes the week after, sometimes at my place instead of home, but always together. But last Christmas COVID was raging, the vaccines had just come out but were only available to first responders (I got mine on the 23rd), and my elderly parents didn’t feel safe to travel. So I spent Christmas without family.

Travel was not just a break from my daily routine and the stress of nursing; in many ways, the biggest benefit travel made to my mental and emotional health was giving me something to look forward to.  Proverbs 13:12 says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick,” and ohhh, I was so heartsick last year! Not being able to travel meant I couldn’t visit my best friends of almost 25 years (more than half my life!). Not being able to travel meant I couldn’t lean on my dad or be hugged by my mom. Not being able to travel--and not knowing when I could travel--left this gaping hole in my future, and I had nothing to fill it with. 

I tell you this not to throw a pity party but to explain the significance of the trip I’m on right now. It is only my third this year: my dad and I spent a week in the mountains in February (my depression and anxiety was so bad then that was treatment, not vacation), I took a friend to the beach over my birthday, and now I’m a couple hours from home at a nice spa hotel. (I’m not counting my nephew’s graduation, which was emotionally challenging for multiple reasons, or helping a friend move from Florida. Moving is never fun.)

I started planning this trip in the spring ... May, maybe? You know, after the vaccine rolled out to everyone and case counts were dropping and it looked like we were gonna lick this thing and have a quasi-normal summer by the Fourth of July (yes, I’m American. That date is a proper noun here.). I had switched jobs in November (don’t ask) and gone on mental health leave December 29th, so I felt I owed it to my unit to put in about six months of work before taking any significant time off, especially since I came back at 24 hours instead of 36. That meant September.

I knew what I wanted to do: 4 or 5 days at an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean. I’d been before and loved the freedom of not worrying about every little expenditure (what can I say, I’m cheap), and a few days of Vitamin Sea sounded perfect.

Then came Delta.

All right, maybe going out of the country isn’t the best idea, I thought. Don’t want to end up with expensive reservations and then your destination closes to Americans, or you make it to your chosen island but can’t get back home. But I didn’t want to fly (ugh, airports!), I didn’t want to drive (rest stops and restaurants and gas stations), and while I thought about taking the train, it didn’t seem much of an improvement (and maybe a downgrade) on flying.

Then a friend mentioned a sleeper car, and I thought yes! That could work! I’ve never been to New England, I want to go to Boston, that area of the country has low case rates and the highest vaccination rates, this has potential! 

Then I looked at the CDC map. There were only four states that didn’t have high transmission at that time (early August, I think; I’d had to wait for confirmation that my time off had been approved): Michigan, Rhode Island, Maine, and New Hampshire. All four had substantial rates of transmission. Hardly ideal, but one thing I’ve learned this year is sometimes you have to make compromises to protect your mental health. It is true it doesn’t matter if you’re happy if you’re dead; it is also true it doesn’t matter if you’re safe if you want to kill yourself. (I’m not suicidal, I am receiving treatment, don’t anybody panic.)

So, now I’ve settled on Maine or New Hampshire by train via sleeper car (Michigan is too far for a 4-5 day trip and RI--meh). Well, as I got deeper into planning, turned out Maine or NH were awfully far too. Far enough I would have to overnight in a major city, which pretty much defeated the purpose of isolating in a sleeper car. Then I found out there were no sleeper cars on either train route.

So, now vacation is 5 weeks away and I’m back at square one. The Deep South, Texas, and Florida are imploding. Pediatric cases are rising--kids are sicker and make up a higher percentage of cases than they did last year. Scuttlebutt from my ICU colleagues is it’s bad--17/30 MICU beds are COVID and they’re all vented. SICU is being nicknamed “the ECMO unit.” The hospital has 18(!) ECMO machines and 12 are in use; the float nurse who tells us that didn’t even know we had 12 because she’s never seen that many in use at one time. Hospital-wide our numbers are equivalent to early February (we peaked in January). There were six--SIX--pediatric rapid responses in one day. 

And I’m going to travel.

It’s a big deal ... a big accomplishment, really, because of what it says about how I’m successfully managing my anxiety. April 1 was the first time I’d been inside a grocery store in more than a year ... and that wasn’t my idea. It was late April or May before I was comfortable eating in restaurants, even with the falling case count at the time. I’m still not sure if I’m managing my anxiety or reacting to the pressure by going to the opposite extreme (I have a history of that), but I know I’m less stressed, less anxious, have fewer obsessive thoughts, fewer physical symptoms, and am learning to live with this disease. 

So, here I sit at a marble-topped 5-foot-wide desk in my queen/queen hotel room at the end of a productive and enjoyable day. I slept in, completed the big goal of this weekend’s to-do list that I honestly thought would take several days, unpacked and organized my room (I arrived yesterday evening), reorganized my Favorites Bar and Bookmarks on my Mac, had an 80-minute aromatherapy massage, enjoyed a shower in the spa afterwards and even blow-dried my hair(!) before wandering around for a while to get the lay of the land and get some steps in (this place is huge!). Then I changed clothes and took myself out to dinner for my favorite food, Italian. 

That’s me in the picture up top, all dressed up :) Actually, I probably look pretty normal to y’all; like most people with depression, my personal hygiene sunk to new lows in the last year and a half, and as a low-maintenance person to begin with, that’s saying a lot. I bought that necklace as a bridesmaid and am not sure I’ve worn it since; this spring was her 10th anniversary. Yesterday I took out the cat-shaped earrings Dad gave me for Christmas. (Yes, they were gross. Yes, I cleaned them. Yes, I’m wearing them again now.) Just wearing a nice top, fixing my hair (no ponytail or claw-clip bun, my staples), and adding jewelry was a big deal ... especially since “no one” was going to see me. I did it just for me, to make myself feel good. And I did. (That’s another small pleasure COVID took away from me--lip gloss. If I wore any makeup at all, it was lipstick or gloss. Utterly pointless when you’re masked whenever you’re in public.)

I took my laptop to dinner and edited a couple chapters of my new Charlie/Amy fic (previewed during #ktoo turns 10), ran a couple errands, and headed back to the hotel since I don’t like to be out late by myself in an unfamiliar city. Forgot I put my receipt envelope in the backseat pocket and reorganized the glove compartment looking for it, then gathered a bunch of returns into a bag in the trunk. Hung out writing in the lobby until my Mac threatened to die, came upstairs and tidied up, put on my jammies, and talked to you guys :) 

[even-after-a-millennia]

Here Through the Dark and Beautiful

The third and final part of my What We Do For Family series is done!  You can read it down below or over on ao3 here!

(Also, there’s a scene in a club and I definitely put together a self-indulgent playlist of what I wanted to play, so here that is as well.)

Five years into Nile Freeman’s immortality, her immortal family took a break from fighting and from each other.  Well, sort of.  Nicky and Joe went off to Malta, smiling profusely as they drove off.  Andy and Quynh were going to stay right where they were, in the safe house in Greece, where if they looked out the window, they could see the glittering sea.

Which left Nile and Booker undecided on what they were going to do.

Nile didn’t even consider going somewhere on her own.  She turned to him and shrugged.  “I’ve never been to France?”

He chuckled, looking relieved.  “Ma choupette, you will have to be a little more specific than that.”

She smiled, conceding the point.  “The Louvre?”

“Nerd!” Quynh called from where she was sitting on the couch, her wife’s legs in her lap as Andy sprawled across the cushions.

Nile very maturely did not stick her tongue out at Quynh.  She did wrinkle her nose at her, but that was not the same.

“Very well, Nile,” Booker said, smiling.  “I will take you to the Louvre.”

After they packed their bags and headed out the door, Nile began to realize just what she had agreed to.  The team had agreed to take a month off before they would reconvene at Copley’s house near London and get briefed on their new assignment.

So she would be spending a whole month with Booker.

Alone.

Which was fine!  It was!  It was just… once Nile had become an immortal and helped save Booker from Merrick, ever since that early morning conversation they’d had about taking care of their mental health, they had become friends.  Surrounded by couples who loved them, they were the two loners.  That morning’s conversation had been the first of many, spanning countless cups of coffee and missions.  At this point, spanning years.

Nile loved her whole immortal family.  She loved Nicky’s gentle warmth, his inability to let her go without food for a long period of time, his small, proud smile when she had finally disarmed him in a sword fight.  She loved Joe, who painted with her and prayed with her, who would sleepily be there for her when she awoke with a nightmare.  She loved Andy, her fierceness and her kindness, her mentor who listened when Nile spoke and asked Nile how to use technology.  She loved Quynh, her fellow trickster, who clothes shopped with her and let her feel like a sister again when they did mischief together.  

Nile loved Booker, who had been sober for four years now and worked every day to pull himself away from the darkness that had swallowed him five years ago.  Whose scars on his heart were so similar to her own.  Who understood when she gasped awake clutching her throat sometimes, even years after her first death, because he sometimes did the same.  Who felt the ache of missing his family in a way that echoed hers.

She loved all of them.

The trouble was, she was falling in love with Booker.  It had started slowly, based on their shared experiences and the friendship that they had built as the years had gone on, but she had felt herself start to fall for him about a year ago.  A mission had gone bad and she had died very slowly.  She had woken in the back of their escape vehicle with her head resting in Booker’s lap.  His eyes, filled with worry and then relief, were the first thing that she saw.  In that moment, she realized that she wanted to wake up looking at him, without having to die first, for the rest of her immortality.

And that terrified her a bit.

Nile was surrounded by some of the greatest love stories in history, not that history would ever know that.  She knew it.  She saw it.  A love so deep it could span centuries of disagreements and fights and deaths.  A love that could go to the bottom of the ocean and back.  And through all that, to still look at the person who was their everything with love and certainty.

It was awe-inspiring.

She just didn’t know if she could ever have that.

But with Booker, she wanted to try.  And that was what scared her.  

“You okay, Nile?  You’ve been quiet since we left,” Booker asked as they flew towards Paris.

“Hmm?  Oh, sorry.  Got a lot on my mind, I guess,” she said, trying to shrug it off.

“Wanna talk about it?” Booker asked, leaning closer until their shoulders brushed.

Nile smiled softly, but shook her head.  “Nah, just thinking of all the art I’m going to see soon.”

Booker looked at her like he knew that she was bullshitting, but didn’t call her out on it, for which she was grateful.  Even though they confided a lot in each other, they knew when not to press.

“Ah, yes.  What are you looking forward to seeing most?”

“You did not just ask me that.”

Booker chuckled, holding up his hands.  “Sorry, you know art isn’t my expertise.”

“Oh sure, mister forger, I’m sure there aren’t any art replicas out there that came from you,” Nile teased, poking him in the side.

Booker ducked his head.  “I plead the Fifth.”

“You’re not American.”

“You are, are you not?”

“Well… technically, I guess.”  Nile looked out the window, melancholy lancing through her.  “Don’t you have to go to your home country every once in a while to claim citizenship?”

She felt Booker’s hand on hers.  “I’m sorry, ma belle, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Nile took a deep breath and shook herself, trying to dispel the tidal wave of emotion that had hit her.  Her movement jostled Booker’s hand and he pulled away.

Damn.

“It’s fine.  I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I understand.”

She knew he did.  Which is why she took a chance and slid a little closer, leaning her head on his shoulder.  He was tense for a moment, then relaxed as she settled in.

“Sleep, Nile.  I’ll wake you when we get there.”

“Thanks, Book,” Nile said, letting her eyes close and trying not to be obvious that she was breathing deeply, both to calm herself and to revel in the slightly pine-like smell that wafted off Booker’s neck.

________________________________________

Nile stood, ignoring the people walking around her, mouth open slightly as she stared at Nike’s statue.

“Isn’t it called The Winged Victory of Samothrace?” Booker asked from beside her, looking at the map in his hands.

Nile waved a hand at him, not looking away.  “Nike means victory, Book.  Keep up.”

“Ah.  Of course.”

Nile couldn’t stop looking at the statue.  “This has existed longer than Joe and Nicky.  It’s older than Joe and Nicky combined.”

“Still young compared to Andy, though.”

Again, Nile waved a hand at Booker.  “A lot of things are young compared to Andy, Book.  That’s not a fair comparison.”

“True.  I wonder if they have miniature versions of this in the gift shop,” Booker mused.

“Huh.  Maybe,” Nile said, finally turning away to grin at him.  “If not, I can just have you make one for me, huh?”

He laughed, throwing his head back.  “You are overestimating my abilities.”

She laughed with him as they started moving again.

There was so much to look at that Nile had only ever seen in books before.  It was almost overwhelming how much history they were looking at.  She was happy that she could tell Booker about a lot of the art, to the point that he put the map in his pocket so he could just listen to what she was saying.  Someone, another tourist, came up to her and asked her for more information once.  

Nile was having the time of her life.

Then, as they were walking through a crowd to get to the next exhibit, she glanced across the room. 

Standing there, unmistakably, was her brother.

Her hand shot out and grabbed Booker’s arm, gripping it tight.

“Nile?  What’s wrong?” he said, going instantly on alert.

“That-”  She couldn’t get the words out.  She cleared her throat.  “That’s my brother over there.”

“What?!”

Booker had turned to look too, but none of that mattered.  Jordan turned, maybe sensing the eyes on him, and looked directly at Nile.  And she got to watch as confusion, recognition, and devastation crossed over his face.

“NILE!” he shouted as he started to rush toward them.

“We need to leave,” she said through numb, unmoving lips.

“Go,” Booker said, putting something in her hand.  “I’ll be right behind you.”

Quynh had taught her how to melt into a crowd and disappear her first year of being an immortal.  Physically, it was so easy.  Mentally, every step away from Jordan hurt her.  But she couldn’t tell him the truth.  She couldn’t come back to her family after five years of being dead and expect them to be okay.  She couldn’t watch them get old, or sick, and die in front of her.  Not while she didn’t age a day.  It was better if she just stayed dead to them.  

But God, it hurt.

She got far enough away to feel safe and ducked behind a pillar.  She turned to Booker, only he wasn’t there.

“Book?”

But he was nowhere to be found.  She felt something in her hand and looked down, remembering that he had put something there before she had left.

A comm earbud?

She quickly put it in her ear and heard her brother’s voice shout her name again.  Nile sagged against the wall, a hand over her heart.

“Hey, man, can I help you?” she heard Booker say, only he didn’t sound like Booker.  He sounded… American?  What the hell?

“My sister, I just saw her here.  Did you see her?  Black woman, slim, with braids.  Name of Nile Freeman?” her brother demanded.

“Nile Freeman?  Wow, that’s not a name I’ve heard in a while.”

“You know her?” Jordan asked.

“I did.  We were in the Marines together.  We were on the same base.  I’m really sorry, man.  She was an amazing person.”

Jordan didn’t say anything.  Nile strained her ears to hear anything.  What was Booker doing?!

It sounded like Jordan let out a gust of air.  “Yeah.  She was.  I’m sorry, I was sure I’d actually seen her this time.”

God, hearing that, Nile’s heart shattered.

“Grief sucks like that,” Booker said, and his voice was rough.

“Yeah, it really fucking does.  I’m Jordan, by the way.  Nile’s younger brother,” her brother said.

Booker huffed out a laugh.  “Did your parents love rivers or something, to name both their kids after two?”

“My dad’s idea.  My mom humored him.”

“From what Nile told me, she is a formidable woman.  I’m Seb.  Nice to meet you, Jordan.”

Nile jerked at Booker giving a form of his real name.  Seriously, what was he doing?!

“Nice to meet you too.  So you were on the same base as Nile?”

“Yeah, for what- eight months?  I got shipped home just before...  Well.  You know.  Heard about it from a buddy of mine.  I’m truly sorry.”

There was silence, and Nile mentally begged Booker to keep talking.  Luckily, he did.

“Nile was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.  She radiated that to everyone.  Kept candy in one of her TAC vest pockets to give to the kids she met.  Strong too, just like her mom.  I was lucky to be able to work with her, however limited a time it was.”

Jordan let out a gust of air.  

“Nile would have loved it here,” he said.  “She wanted to go to art school after her deployment, did she tell you that?  Was always into this stuff.  My mom didn’t know much about it, but wanted her to chase her passion.  Just, we couldn’t afford it.  So Nile enlisted.  Scared the shit out of Mom, not that she would ever admit it.”

“How’s she doing?  Your mom,” Booker asked.

“She’s a fighter, just like Nile was.  There are still hard days, but she can look at Nile’s photo next to Dad’s and keep going.  We can talk about her a bit more, now.”

Nile knew where her dad’s photo was.  On her mom’s dresser, so every morning and every night, she would see him.

Now Nile’s picture was next to her dad’s.

She couldn’t stop the sob that emerged from deep in her chest.

“Could I get a picture?  My roommate will never believe that I ran into Nile Freeman’s brother otherwise,” Booker said.

It sounded like he was distracted, wrapping up the conversation.

“Of course!”

“Hey man, good talking to you,” Booker said, voice warm.

“Yeah, thanks for the stories.  Gotta keep her alive somehow, right?” Jordan said and Nile focused on his voice as hard as she could.  This would probably be the last time she heard it.

“Definitely.  Someone as amazing as Nile should never fully die.  Take care, Jordan,” Booker said.

“You too, Seb.  See you around.”

And he was gone.

Nile couldn’t stop sobbing.

“Nile, where are you?  Nile!  Please, you have to answer me,” Booker said over the comm.

Nile looked around the column she was hiding behind and gasped out the closest piece of art’s name.  

“I’m coming, don’t move.”

A hysterical laugh broke through the sobs for a moment.  Where would she even go?

Then he was in front of her.

“Oh, Nile.  Can I hold you?” Booker asked, his voice breaking.

Nile threw herself into his arms and truly let go.  She buried her face into Booker’s chest, hoping to contain the sounds of her sobs.  They were secluded enough to avoid awkward stares, but she was still aware of the spectacle she must be making of herself.  She started to take deep breaths, trying to stop crying.  

It was only when she started to calm that she could hear Booker’s soft murmurs of “I’m sorry, you’ll be okay, I know how you feel and I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, ma chérie, we’ll get through this together…”

It only made her hold him tighter.

Finally, she calmed and straightened from being hunched into Booker’s chest.

“I’m so sorry, Nile, I should have just come with you.  I thought- well, it doesn’t matter.  I’m truly sorry,” Booker said.

When she looked up at him, she saw his eyes were wet too, a few tears making their way down his cheeks.

She shook her head, reaching up to wipe his tears.  “You gave me my brother back, Book, for however short a time.  Thank you.”

Her hands were still on his face, cupping his jaw.  She slid them over his jaw, to the back of his neck, and pulled slightly.  Booker was almost half a foot taller than her, but he compressed himself to be shorter until their forehead met.

She closed her puffy eyes and just stayed there a moment.

“Thank you,” she said again, whispering this time.

“You’re welcome.”  

She felt the puff of his breath against her face as he spoke.  It would be so easy to lean a little bit more in, close that distance...

But she couldn’t.  Not right now, when she still felt like she was dying a bit inside.

Pulling away, she said, “I think we should go.  That okay with you?”

“Of course, Nile.  You didn’t even have to ask.”

They got back to his flat, not talking as they walked in.

“You should know, I recorded the conversation with Jordan on my phone.  And um, here,” Booker said, holding out his phone.  “I thought you would want to have this.”

Nile took the phone, knowing what she would see.  It didn’t hurt any less as she looked at Jordan’s face, smiling with his arm around Booker’s shoulder.

She was crying again before she even realized it.

“God, Book.  I miss him,” she sobbed.  Her legs gave out and Booker scooped her into his arms and carried her to the couch.  He sat and pulled her close, starting to murmur comfort again as she lost herself once again.

It took much longer to even begin to pull herself together this time.  It was dark out and she felt exhausted, mentally and physically.  Booker’s leg had to be asleep underneath her, but he just kept brushing his hand up and down her spine, trying to soothe her.

“I think we should leave Paris tomorrow,” she said, her voice hoarse from crying.

“That would probably be best,” Booker agreed.  “Where would you like to go?”

Nile buried her face into his chest, overwhelmed.  “Can I decide later?”

“Of course, Nile.”

“Or you could choose this time,” she said, voice muffled by his shirt.

He paused, thinking.  “We have a safe house near Amsterdam.  There are many art museums there, including the Van Gogh Museum.  If you would like.”

This is why I love you.  The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she keeps them there.

She pushed herself up so that she was able to look at him.  His hair was flopping into his face and she didn’t stop herself from pushing it back in place.  Booker’s gaze changed somehow, from caring to… a closed off kind of caring, where he wasn’t sure what was going on, but still cared about her.

“I would love that.  Thank you, Sebastien,” she said.  Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

She pulled away quickly and didn’t look at him as she stood up.  “I’m gonna go lie down, try to sleep for a bit.  Can you make arrangements for Amsterdam?”

He grunted in affirmation and she fled down the hall.  She couldn’t stop herself from glancing back before she left the room, only to see Booker staring at nothing, his hand on the cheek she had kissed.

Well, that’s promising.

It wasn’t until she was in bed that she realized she had called him Sebastien, not Booker.

Well...

Shit.

_____________________________________________

They didn’t talk much as they traveled to the Netherlands.  Nile didn’t mind, she was too tired to tackle any of the emotional options that could have been topics of discussion.  She could feel Booker glancing at her every now and then, but she just pretended to fall asleep against the train’s window.  

She couldn’t consider falling asleep on his shoulder again.  She was already feeling fragile.  Putting herself out there was not in the cards right now.

They took a taxi to get to the safe house from the train station, paying the driver in cash when they arrived.  Booker thanked him in Dutch, which was not a language that Nile had started to learn yet, and they walked up the steps to the front door.

“Booker, wait,” Nile said, grabbing his arm.  She had seen a figure through the door’s frosted glass.  

There was someone inside the house.

“It’s okay, Nile,” Booker said.  “It’s just-”

Andy opened the door.  “Hey, kid.”

Nile blinked at her.  “You’re supposed to be in Greece.”

Andy shrugged.  “All that sun wasn’t agreeing with me,” she said drily.

Nile turned on Booker.  “Book…”

He held up his hands.  “I just told them what happened.  They wanted to be here for you.”

“They?!”

“Hello, little sister,” Quynh said, coming forward from behind Andy.

Nile swallowed hard at the endearment, emotion swelling in her chest.  “Quynh…”

“May I?” Quynh asked, holding out her arms.

Nile could only nod as she stepped forward into Quynh’s embrace.  Andy’s hand came to clasp Nile's shoulder as they hugged, and Nile took a deep, shaky breath.

She disengaged, wiping a stray tear that had leaked out.  “I’m glad, I thought when Book said ‘they’ he meant-”

A car door slammed behind them.  

“We’re here!  Sorry we’re late, Nicky was driving for a bit and suddenly we were in Belgium,” Joe’s voice rang out from behind them and Nile turned to see him and Nicky coming up the walkway.  Their car was parked haphazardly at the curb.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered, tearing up against her will.

As Nicky and Joe got closer, she took a deep breath, overwhelmed.  “I need a minute,” she said abruptly, darting past Quynh and Andy into the house.  She went into the first room she could find and shut the door.

Turns out she was in the bathroom.

She gripped the edges of the sink, hunched over the basin.

Nile wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling, the emotions were twisted inside her so much that she couldn’t parse them out.  She made herself breathe and think. 

Okay, Nile.  What’s wrong?

She thought about the most obvious answer, her brother’s face as they made eye contact, and flinched away from the memory.  She had missed her family for so long that the emotional wound had scabbed over.  It was always there, she always felt the pain and some times were worse than others, but she was able to keep going.  Seeing Jordan had ripped that scab off.  She felt like she was bleeding internally.  Even though she was glad she had been able to hear Booker talk to him… even that hurt.  She was aching for her family.

So why was she not glad to see her immortal family?

She hadn’t asked them to come.  Hadn’t wanted to bother them from their vacations.  And she knew that she could handle this by herself.  She had survived the pain of losing her brother and mom this long, why did they seem to think that she couldn’t get through this?

Oh.

Nile understood what she was feeling now.

She was sad, yes.  But she was also angry.

When she had first joined Andy’s little band of immortal warriors, she had felt the difference of age between them and herself.  Andy to this day called her “kid.”  Thank God Booker had gone away from saying the same, that would have made any feelings she had for him incredibly awkward.  It wasn’t like she wasn’t aware of how young she was compared to the others.  But she was a goddamn adult.  She had gone through loss before and knew she would go through more, but she also knew that she could get through that herself.  For everyone to drop everything and come here made her feel like they thought she couldn’t.

That was what was rubbing her the wrong way here.

Nile took a deep breath and turned on the hot water.  She found a washcloth in the cupboard under the sink and wet it once the water was warm.  Slowly, gently, she washed her face, breathing deeply as she did so.  She wrung out the washcloth and dabbed her face dry on the hand towel hanging on the wall.

Then she looked back into the mirror.

The anger had lessened, now that it had been acknowledged.  The pain was still there, right below the surface.  But she straightened her shoulders and nodded to herself.

She’s got this.

The other immortals had moved from the doorway into the living room.  None of them were sitting, though, and they all turned immediately when she walked into the room.

“Sorry about that, needed a second to go to the bathroom.  Hey guys!” she said, opening her arms and pulling Joe into a hug.

“Nile-” Nicky said as she turned to embrace him as well, so she hugged him extra tight, just to quiet him a moment.

“You guys didn’t have to rush here and ruin your vacations,” she said, making sure to keep the smile on her face, to keep the edge out of her voice.

“Nile-”

“You couldn’t have even gotten to Malta before you were turning around to come here,” Nile continued as she pulled away from Nicky.

“Nile, per favore,” Nicky said beseechingly.

Nile swallowed and looked at him hesitantly.  His eyes were attentive and tired.  “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Nile slumped into herself.  She sat on the chair, away from the others and they followed suit, sitting around the room.  Nicky, Joe, Quynh, and Andy squeezed onto the couch and Booker took the other chair, the closest seat to Nile.

“No,” she answered honestly, feeling weighed down with grief and anger.  She forced her chin up, her shoulders square.  “But I will be.”

There were nods around the room.  Nile made eye contact with Booker and could see the understanding radiating from his eyes.  She gave him a small smile.

“We should have asked this from the beginning.  What do you need, Nile?  What can we do?” Joe asked.

She considered.  What did she want?  There were hard answers to that question.  She wanted to see her mother.  She wanted to hug her brother.

She wanted to forget for a bit that she was immortal, and all the hurt that came with that.

Nile went with the easiest answer.

“I wanna go dancing,” she declared, raising her chin as she said it.  

The others blinked.  

Booker let out a chuckle.  “We are in Amsterdam.  I’m sure we can find somewhere to dance.”

“Don’t you think that we will stand out?” Nicky asked.

Nile shrugged.  “Honestly, probably not.  You just jump up and down all night, that would be enough.  I’m sure you can figure out grinding in about two seconds or less, so that’s two dance moves right there, one for slow dances and one for fast ones!”

Andy shrugged.  “Alright, but don’t get mad if we are bad.”

“We’re really going?” Quynh asked, looking excited.

Everyone looked around and nodded.

Nicky sighed.  “For Nile, yes.”

“For Nile!” Quynh shouted, raising a fist in the air.  Nile smiled, thinking how many times Quynh might have rallied that way throughout the centuries.  She shook herself.  No, tonight was to forget about immortality.

“Alright, we’re going to need supplies to do this right,” Nile said, pulling out her phone and starting to write a list.  “I’ve got an outfit that’ll do, but I’ll need to look at your guy’s luggage to see if something works.  Book, you brought that dark blue button down, right?”

He nodded.

Nile stared at her phone as she said, “Your eyes pop with that and it makes your muscles look fantastic, so that would be a good choice.  The pants you’re wearing will be fine and your boots.  Quynh, can you show me you and Andy’s options?  Joe, I’ll send you the list.  Get Nicky something that isn’t a cotton t-shirt when you’re out.”

Joe grinned at his husband who looked less enthused at the idea.  “With pleasure.”

“Okay, let’s get going!”

Nile helped pick out Quynh and Andy’s looks as Joe and Nicky grocery shopped.  Joe and Nicky brought back groceries, including alcohol, and outfits for themselves.  The grey short sleeved button down did wonderful things to Nicky’s eyes and Joe went with a black tank top, which showed off his shoulders.  

Sidling up to Booker as he helped put away groceries, Nile whispered, “Ten bucks that Joe and Nicky start defiling the dance floor?”

Booker laughed loudly.  “I don’t make bets that I know I will lose, Nile.  That’s Nicky’s job.”

Nile pouted, but soon rallied.  “We are all gonna look so good, people are gonna be so jealous when they realize Joe and Nicky, and Andy and Quynh are together!”

“Ah,” Booker said, looking down at the counter.  “Nile.  If you wish to go home with someone tonight, I only ask that you keep your phone on you.  Just in case.”

Nile blinked.  She hadn’t even thought about that.  Hadn’t planned to try to pick anyone up.  She was trying to forget about her immortality, right?  Just for the night?  That could be a good way to help forget.  But… she didn’t want to.

“Thanks, but that’s not what I want from tonight,” she replied, keeping her tone light.

Booker nodded.  She did notice his shoulders relaxed as she walked away.

They had some down time before they should start to get ready, but Nile couldn’t settle.  She ended up doing her eye makeup while she waited, wanting something to do.

Andy knocked on the open door of the bathroom to announce that supper was ready.

“Awesome, just gimme a minute and I’ll be good to go,” Nile said, curling her eyelashes.

Andy leaned against the doorway.  “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth,” she said.

“For what?” Nile said, now putting on mascara.

“For treating you like a kid sometimes.  When I first saw Joe’s drawing of you, I thought, ‘she’s just a baby,’ but you’ve proved time and time again that you can handle yourself.  We should have considered that.  I think,” Andy cut off, sighing.  “I think we wanted to be there for you, the way we hadn’t been for Booker.  To make up for not noticing how bad it was for him.”

Andy looked at Nile, who stared at her, shocked and touched.  “We were thinking of ourselves and what we needed more than you.  That wasn’t fair to either of you, and I’m sorry.”

Nile put the wand back in the mascara tube and dropped it on the counter, not caring where it fell.  She hopped off the counter and hugged Andy.  She felt Andy’s hand cup the back of her neck and relaxed into the embrace.

“Thank you for that, Andy,” Nile murmured.

She let out a breath and felt the last traces of her anger fade away.

___________________________________

Nile was decidedly tipsy as they made their way to the nightclub that Booker had found for their night out.  With her fast healing, she’d had to pregame a lot more than back when she was younger and well, mortal - no, she wasn’t thinking about that - and had drunk about half a bottle of vodka to feel as loose and happy as she did right now.

Booker himself hadn’t touched the alcohol and Nile felt a stab of guilt for getting so much, when he had been so good at staying sober.

He must have noticed her expression, as he shook his head at her.  “It’s fine, Nile.  I want you to have a fun night, and if you wish to imbibe, I understand.”  He gave her a crooked grin.  “I won’t give in to peer pressure.”

She was suddenly overwhelmed with pride and affection for him and didn’t stop herself from going up on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek.  “Proud of you, Book,” she murmured as she pulled away.

Everyone else in their immortal family saw it, but no one said anything, for which Nile was somewhat grateful.

She also really wanted to talk to someone about Booker.  She was relieved when Quynh leaned against the doorway, much like her wife had done a few hours ago, and asked Nile as she was doing her contouring, “So, you and Booker, huh?”

Nile bobbled the brush she had been using but caught it before it could truly fall.  She turned and closed the door, then turned on some random playlist on her phone, then turned back to Quynh.

“Quynh, I don’t know what to do,” she said honestly.

“Talk to me, little sister,” Quynh said, reaching out to hold one of Nile's hands.

Nile took a deep breath.  She hadn’t ever said any of this out loud and the prospect of it being out there, acknowledged by someone else, was terrifying and exhilarating.

“I love him, Quynh,” she said in a rush.  Her eyes grew wide and she felt tears start and covered her mouth with her free hand.  “Holy shit, I haven’t said that out loud before.”

“How’s it feel?” Quynh asked with a small smile, like she was holding it in until she heard Nile’s answer.

“Amazing,” Nile said, lowering her hand so that Quynh could see her teary, but wide, smile.

Quynh’s smile mirrored her own.

“I love Sebastien le Livre,” Nile murmured, looking at the door.

“Do you have a plan?” Quynh asked.

Nile shook her head.  “What if…  I mean, he was married before.  I don’t even know if he feels the same.  Or if he does, if he’ll let himself start anything.”

“Well, Nile,” Quynh said, “it sounds like you should sit down and talk with him.  Talk about what you want.  See if he wants the same.  At least after that, you will know.”

Quynh’s grin returned.  “But maybe do that later.  Tonight, we dance!”

The atmosphere in the club was exactly what Nile needed as they walked in.  It was dark and the lights flashed often enough to give people momentary identities before they were mostly cloaked in darkness again.  The music was pumping out of huge speakers.  

The other immortals didn’t look as enthused as Nile was, but they dutifully followed her onto the dance floor.  It was just EDM playing at the moment, so Nile took the time to show a few moves that Quynh took great pleasure in replicating.

Soon though, a new song came on and Quynh’s eyes lit up with an idea.  She grabbed Andy and they started to swing dance, right there in the club.  It fit strangely well with the music, even though it was very much a modern song.  Joe and Nicky started to do the same, grins on their face.  Booker held out a hand to Nile and she took it eagerly.  She replicated the steps that Andy and Quynh were doing and followed Booker’s lead, laughing loudly when they got off from the beat and Booker swore as he spun her out and back to reset them.

By the time that song faded out, Nile was breathing heavily and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

The next song came on and it was slower, at least at the beginning, and Nile heard the lyrics, “I pray to God, I just don’t know anymore,” and felt like a sledgehammer had hit her over the head.  That had happened that time in-

No, tonight was about forgetting!  She wasn’t going to think about that!

She danced noncommittally to that song, even when it picked up.  The next song started up and Nile recognized it instantly.  “Turn Down for What” had been featured at far too many dances for her NOT to know it.  

Nile took great pleasure in shaking her hips from side to side as the song continued. 

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT?!” she roared along with most of the club.

The moment that the next song’s first notes came on, the club went wild.

People all around the world went crazy for Beyonce.

Nile wrinkled her nose at the line about Monica Lewinsky, cause she was a cool lady it turned out, and didn’t deserve to be turned into a synonym for a blow job.  Otherwise, she rolled her body and even let a guy come up behind her and grind with her.  The moment that the French section of the song came on, though, her concentration broke and she looked for Booker.  He was bobbing from side to side and as the French section continued, his head cocked to the side and his eyebrows went up.  He looked over at her and she smirked at him, gesturing to the part of the dancefloor that Nicky and Joe were currently defiling, just as she had predicted.

He looked over, then back at her, and shook his head.  She could tell that he was laughing, his shoulders going up and down even though she couldn’t hear him from this far away.

She broke away from the guy she had been dancing with, giving him a small smile, and made her way to Booker.  As she moved, the song changed and she grinned.

“You know when I said you just jump up and down?  This is a great example of that!” Nile shouted to her little group.

The entire club was bouncing as the chorus rang out.  If Nile didn’t heal, she knew her calves would be sore tomorrow.

No, she wasn’t thinking about it!

Nile let herself dance mindlessly through the next few songs, not understanding one song as it was in Italian and willfully ignoring the next one that sang about being lonely together.  She didn’t want to think about why she was lonely.

Then the next song came on and she started jumping along until she heard the lyrics, “Party til we die!”

Except she couldn’t die.  She was immortal and she had lost her family just as much as they had lost her and God, it hurt.

She didn’t realize that she was just standing there, staring into space, until Joe’s hand brushed against her arm.  Nile shook herself and shouted, “I’m gonna go get another drink!”

She made her way through the crowd to get to the bar before any of them could respond.  Once she got there though, she ended up just asking for water.  She didn’t want to follow the path of self-loathing and self-destruction that Booker had taken before he had nearly destroyed himself entirely.  While it might be melodramatic to think that a drink in a club would lead down that path, Nile didn’t want to push herself.

She did, however, block out the rest of the song until it finished.

“I love my friends and my friends love me.  Like all the time, they’re right beside me.  We’ve got each other for eternity.  Like all the time, they’re right beside me,” the new song sang.

Nile let out a shaky breath.

She wasn’t alone.

She turned and saw her new family across the room.  They looked back at her with love in their eyes, and suddenly, there was too much space between her and them.  She pushed gently through the crowd until she was back in their little bubble.

They closed rank around her and wrapped their arms around her.  They swayed slowly to the song even though it was fast paced and Nile felt so loved.

“Thanks, guys,” Nile said, smiling around at her immortal family.

They broke apart for the next song and Quynh grabbed Nile’s hand so they would dance together.  Nile ended up cackling at the exaggerated come hither faces that Quynh made at her and pulled Quynh in for a hug.  

“Thank you, Quynh.  For being my big sister and for just.  Well.  Being here.”

Quynh’s arm wrapped around her and pulled her in tight.

The song that came on next was slow and beautiful and as Nile listened to the lyrics, she knew she had to find Book.  He was watching Nicky and Joe sway back and forth with a small smile on his face.  She walked up and tapped him on the shoulder.

He looked at her and his smile gentled even more.

“Wanna dance?” she asked.

“Yes, ma belle, I would love to dance with you,” he answered.

“I never thought in a million years, in a million years, oh It would be you,” the song rang out.

Nile hands ended up on the back of Booker’s neck, as Booker’s hands stayed firmly on her waist.  She did see his eye flutter shut as her fingers scratched through the short hairs there, and she smirked.

“I just can't get you out my mind, So infatuated.”

Okay, the lyrics were a bit too on the nose, but she just pulled Booker closer and let them sway.  She could hear his heart from where her head rested against his chest, and was suddenly so glad that their immortality existed because there was no other way that they would have been able to meet.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it.  Immortality was a fact of her life, like the fact her dad was dead and the sky was blue.  Some things couldn’t be changed and fighting her immortality would only hurt herself and her new family.  She had seen the worst of what fighting his immortality had done to Booker.

She would make a different path for herself.

It would be painful and there would be days that she would feel like she was dying inside.  But she knew that she could do it.  She was strong.  She had already been through so much and she was still here.  And she had her family to reach out to.

Nile had Booker to reach out to.

The song wound down and Nile placed a kiss where she had just been resting her head.  Booker’s hands tightened minutely, then he let go.

“Forever young, I wanna be forever young.”

Okay.  Who had chosen this song.  Nile started laughing and she couldn’t stop.  Her hooting attracted some attention but she didn’t care.  The irony was just too much.

“You good?” Andy asked, smiling slightly as she raised an eyebrow.

“Yes!  Sorry, I just - ahahaha - this song!” Nile answered incoherently.

She calmed as the song continued, though giggled as Joe busted out some truly ridiculous disco moves.  Nicky looked at him with love in his eyes, even as he too, laughed at his husband.

 Nile looked around and felt suddenly content.  She hadn’t been expecting it.  But as she watched her little family indulge her need for normality, or what used to be her version of normality, she felt okay again. 

She reached out and grabbed Booker’s hand and squeezed.  He looked startled at first, then saw her smile and returned it without thinking.  

“Home we’ll goooooo, home we’ll go.”

Nile turned her grin to the entire group and nodded.

“I’m ready to go home.”

_____________________________________

It didn’t take long for Booker and Nile to be the only ones left in the living room when they got home.  Nicky and Joe were up the stairs in a flash, and Nile definitely saw a little ass grabbage as they made their way up to the main bedroom.  Quynh and Andy had some water, then Quynh gave Andy a look and they were off to the spare bedroom.

“The couch is a pullout, by the way,” Andy threw over her shoulder as they went.

Nile laughed.  “Cheers.”

She turned to Booker, still laughing, but he was looking at the couch with trepidation.  

“I can take the floor,” he offered.

“Book,” she huffed.

“It is the gentlemanly thing to do,” he insisted.

She rolled her eyes.  “I don’t remember asking you to be a gentleman, Sebastien.”

His eyes darkened at her use of his real name.  He swallowed and looked away.

Dammit.

“If that’s what you want, Book, I’m not gonna stop you,” Nile said, going to her bag.  “I’m gonna get ready for bed.”

She emerged, clean and without makeup, about half an hour later.  The bed was out and Booker was sitting at the dining table, a cup of untouched tea in front of him.  Nile settled in the chair next to him and stole the tea, taking a sip.

“Talk to me,” she said.

She had said the same thing so many times over the years that they had known each other.  They had been there for each other while they were both going through therapy, on anniversaries of things that made it hard to get out of bed that day, and in so many other ways.

He let out a gust of breath.  “Tonight was fun for you, right?”

Nile considered.  “It was hard at times.  I had gone to forget about immortality and my family, only to realize that there was no forgetting.  But you guys being there helped.  It was nice to dance.  So yeah, I had fun.”

Booker nodded.  “I noticed, there was that man you were, uh, dancing with.  You didn’t change your mind?  Want to go home with him?”

“Nah,” Nile said.  She decided to take a chance.  “Even when I was dancing with him, I started thinking about you.”

He stared at her.  “Me?”

“Yeah, Seb.  I don’t think that going home with that guy would have been very fulfilling.  I think...” she said slowly as she stared down into Booker’s cup of tea, slightly anxious, “I think that no one out there could compare to who I came home with anyway.”

She plucked up her nerve and looked right at Booker when she finished speaking.  He was staring at her, eyes wide.

“Ma chérie, you don’t believe-”

“You calling me a liar, Sebastien?” Nile said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No, I would never, but-  I mean - I’m just.  Nile,” he said, flabbergasted.

She leaned towards him, putting a hand on his arm.  “You’re worth a whole lot more than you think, Book.  I see how hard you try to be better, for yourself and for everyone else.  I see how much your demons cling and how you still get up every day and keep going.  I see you.  And I think you’re worth everything.”

Her heart was pounding.  This was as close to a declaration of her feelings as she had ever come to.  Though he had given promising signs in the past, there was no actual guarantee that Booker felt the same towards her.

“Nile, mon ange,” Booker breathed, pulling her close and resting his forehead against her.  “Forgive me, I am a little overwhelmed.”

“Take your time, Book,” Nile said sincerely, closing her eyes and listening to her heart beating and his breathing.

They sat there silently for a while, forehead to forehead.  As time passed, Nile calmed and all she felt was content.

He reached up and stroked her cheek as he pulled his head slightly away from hers.  “I think that I started to fall for you the moment that you pushed Merrick out of the window and fell to the street with him,” he admitted.  “I fought it for a long time, because of shame.  Shame in myself.  Shame at what my family would think.  And then,” he stopped, looking away from Nile and took a breath, blowing it out in a gust.  “I finally talked about my feelings for you with the therapist that you helped me find.”

Book turned to look her in the eye and Nile felt like she could melt at the warmth in his gaze.  “She said that loving you wasn’t replacing the ones that I had loved before.  That I could love them and love you.  I don’t have to choose between one and the other.  And suddenly, I heard my Marie’s voice in my head for the first time in a century.”

His eyes filled with tears and Nile reached up and cupped his cheeks, wiping a tear that fell.  He smiled gently at her and pushed on.  “She told me that I was the love of her life, but I will live many lifetimes, and she didn’t want me to be alone.  I used to hear her all the time, before.  She was my conscience and my guiding light.  Ever since I lost her, and our boys, I’ve been lost.  I love our immortal family, please don’t mistake me.  But I used to feel alone, even when they were all in the room.  That feeling led to terrible things.  And then you led my new family to me and saved me.  And since then, I’ve found a new source of light.”

Nile’s eyes filled with tears too.  “Sebastien…”

“Mon dieu, Nile, I love when you say my name,” Booker breathed.

She grinned.  “You gonna kiss me, Sebastien?”

“Mon bonheur…”  His eyes were wide and she could see his heart in them.

“I don’t know that one, Seb.  You’re gonna have to translate.”

“My happiness,” Sebastien said with a small smile.  

Nile smiled and her eyes crinkled, it was so wide.  The tears that had collected in them spilled over and she realized that Sebastien was crying too.

His hand cupped her cheek gently, almost reverently, and they closed the distance between them.  At first, their lips only pressed together.  Then Nile’s hand came up to the back of Booker’s neck to pull him closer and the dynamic changed.  It was still slow but their mouths moved together.  Booker’s tongue laved at her lower lip.  Nile trapped Booker’s lower lip between hers and sucked it into her mouth.  She remembered how much he seemed to like it when she ran her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck and did so again, then gave a soft pull.

He shuddered.

“Seb,” she whispered, kissing his cheek and then leaning closer to speak into his ear.  “We don’t have to do anything tonight, but do you want to go lie down?”

Booker nodded eagerly.  

The pull out bed wasn’t very comfortable.  But Nile lay half on top of Booker and he pulled her close, kissing behind her ear, down her jaw, and back to her lips.  And then everything else didn’t matter.

She woke up the next day still in his arms.  Remembering the thought she’d had, realizing she wanted to wake up looking at him for the rest of her immortality, Nile smiled.  

This morning was the start of an eternity of waking up together.

She kissed his chest before extracting herself from his arms.  He grumbled in his sleep, then settled.

Quynh and Nicky were already in the kitchen when she stumbled in.  Quynh smiled widely at her and Nicky raised an eyebrow.

“Hi guys…” Nile said warily.  The look on their faces made her want to go crawl back into bed.

“So, do you want us to clear out today so you can start your sexcation?” Quynh asked with a shit eating grin on her face.

“Oh my god,” Nile said.  She hadn’t even had coffee yet.

She filled a cup and chugged it.  Nicky’s eyebrow joined its fellow near his hairline.

Nile set the cup down.  “Maybe.  We aren’t there yet.  But I’d rather not get there with you guys in the next room.”  She refilled the cup and started drinking again, slower this time.  “Not like you don’t have sexcations to get to of your own.”

Quynh nodded and Nicky’s eyebrows finally went down as the corners of his lips curled up.

“Also, that pull out is made out of lumps and I’d rather have a better bed for our first time.  Though I don’t really care about the location that much.  Just that it’ll be him,” Nile said thoughtfully.  

There was a sound of someone choking from the hallway.  Nile turned to see Booker standing there, his face going a deep red color.

“Good morning,” she said, ignoring the fact that he had heard her.  “Want some coffee?”

“Nile,” he said, his voice rough from sleep and emotion.

“Yes, Sebastien?”

“I-  You-  Merde,” he hissed, taking two steps and leaning down to kiss her where she sat.  She met his lips gladly.  This was no gentle press.

Well.  It seems once she got passed the gentlemanly facade, they could really have some fun.

She pulled away from him long enough to look at Quynh and Nicky and raise an eyebrow.  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?  People to get out of bed, woo, and get into a different bed at a different place?  Please?”

Quynh laughed.  “Subtle, little sister.”  She stood and flapped her hands at Booker until he took a step back.  “Sisters before misters,” she teased before she gave Nile a hug.  “We’ll be out of the house in less than a half an hour.  Think you can wait that long?”

Nile giggled, then nodded.  “Thank you, Quynh.  I love you.”

Nicky was next, once Quynh pulled away.  He kissed her forehead.  “We’ll see you in a month, Nile,” he said, his eyes smiling at her.

“Enjoy Malta.”

He smirked.  “We will.”

Nile stayed at the table and Booker made her toast and eggs.  Quynh and Andy were out the door first, Andy stopping to give both of them hugs on the way out.  Joe took longer to rouse, so Nicky was going to drive first.

“We’ll call you for directions when we end up in Lithuania,” Joe said with a sleepy smile as they said goodbye.

Nile laughed.  “See you soon.  Love you guys.”

“Love you, our little river!” Joe called as he got into the vehicle.

She shook her head at them but waved as they drove away.

Closing the door, she found Booker doing the dishes from breakfast.  She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his stomach.

A sudsy hand rested against where hers were clasped.

Nile let out a huge sigh.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, nuzzling his back.  “Sometimes it just shocks me the extremes of emotions that people can feel at once.”

“Talk to me,” he said and she smiled and pressed a kiss against his spine.

“I love this family.  So much.  And they exasperate me and challenge me and take care of me and I love them.”  She took a deep breath, then forged on.  “I love my family.  I miss them so badly sometimes it makes my chest ache, and I know that pain will never fully go away.  But I’ll carry it with me cause otherwise, I can’t carry my love for them too.”

She paused and raised on tiptoe to kiss his neck.  “I love you,” she said.  “And that feels a bit like a miracle still.  Maybe someday it’ll feel as naturally as breathing like it seems to be for the others.  But for now, I just want to revel in it.”

Booker was shaking.  Nile could feel it against her chest.

“Seb?  You okay?”

He sniffled.  “Oui, mon bonheur. Ça va bien,” he murmured.

He turned in her arms until she could see the tears on his face.  “You just put how I feel into words.  I love our new family.  I miss Marie and our boys.”  He took a deep breath and looked down at her.  “And I love you.  I love you so much.”

“Seb…”

They pulled each other close and Nile let her own tears come.

Immortality would bring with it times that were hard and times that will be beautiful.  She knew she could handle them.  Especially with her family by her side.  Especially with Sebastien with her.

“Oh, by the way,” she said, pulling back from him a bit.  “I think I’m finally going to go to art school.”

She grinned.  “Wanna model for me?”

Translations: Ma choupette - my little cabbage, in an endearing way Ma belle - my beautiful Per favore - please Ma chérie - my darling mon ange - my angel Mon dieu - my God Mon bonheur - my happiness Merde - shit Oui, mon bonheur. Ça va bien - Yes, my happiness. I'm okay

[sarenhale]

I'm really sorry if this is a weird question, but I was curious if there are any specific ways you keep up such a consistent quality AND quantity of art? You're one of the most prolific and skilled artists I follow and I often find myself thinking "how do they do it?!" I love to draw, but I feel so slow and like I can only post once or twice a month. Has there been anything that helps you stay focused and regular with you art? Thanks in advance, and thanks for being an amazing, inspirational artist ^-^b

This is not a weird question at all, it's actually very interesting! And thank you so much for the kind words... wow... I'm so flattered and happy you would think of me as such an artist T__T These are some really POWERFUL and inspirational words, thank you!! I feel a bit shocked to hear this, but also really happy to know I can inspire someone with my drawings T_T You are the one inspiring me now, my friend

As for the question, I think probably the thing that allows me the most to have the time and inspiration to draw consistently is the fact that I work from home as a freelance artist, and since that's my job, it has become a daily routine for me to draw on commissions/freelance work, and also cut some time for myself and my personal art. Being allowed to stay at home and focus on art as my job is definitely the biggest factor on my productivity, like for example when I was working retail full time a year ago that definitely wasn't the case, I always felt so tired (mentally and physically) that I couldn't barely produce anything in my (nonexistent) free time, because I was so tired I just used that free time to sleep and recover... LOL

Aside from this being the biggest factor in my answer, I think having a good chunk of daily inspiration really helps me gather new ideas and even the excitement to create more daily! Things like playing new games (playing FFXIV and fe3h sparked my creativity immensely in the past year), scrolling through twitter and tumblr and seeing art by the artists I follow, and thinking 'oh man I love how they did this shading or lineart', that really makes me wanna pick up my pen tablet and start drawing, and maybe try something new.

I think having some side hobbies can also really help me get some detached time from drawing, relax and 'clear' my mind, so when I get back at drawing I feel more rested and inspired by the thing I made in my other hobby. Like for example I play a lot of pen on paper rpgs like D&D, cyberpunk and vampire the masquerade, and I also DM a D&D game for my friend group: focusing on writing/planning the encounters and the story really helps meto focus on something that isn't drawing for a change, and also gather material and fuel for more inspirations for later! (Like drawing what transpired during our roles, the npcs my players met, what they did... etc)

Drawing daily is definitely something that required a lot of getting accustomed to during the years, but I found that it comes quite naturally for me. I get a bit antsy when I don't draw actually. It also feels weirdly rewarding to me, I have a serious deficit of attention on basically everything, but drawing puts me 'in the zone' and actually makes me hyperfocused, so it feels kinda 'good' to me to be in The Zone as often as I can.

I would say definitely don't feel bad if you don't produce enough or feel like you aren't drawing 'as much as you should', different people have different routines and way of creating. Our minds are all different and work in different ways! I'd suggest try to find what works best for you, maybe introducing some more inspiration in your life is what you need, or just trying new things, like trying new methods of painting/coloring/doing art. Try playing new games, reading new books or doing some writing, or something that you like doing as a hobby: I find that connecting my art to other hobbies is what really keeps my inspiration and motivation going.

I would also say that's it's important that you get some rest and chill when you feel like you're hitting a wall. Sometimes the answer to hitting a wall and feeling stuck isn't to headbutt the wall, but just allowing yourself some rest and time for yourself. Social media may make it look like people are always amazing and producing a lot, but to be honest, there are some periods of time when I'm also feeling super burnt over drawing, and just dedicate a week or something to playing games, sleeping, and doing something else. I wouldn't even pick up the pen.

Maybe it's because my mental health (and problems) go hand in hand with my inspiration and productivity, but I also try to approach drawing as something that should make me happy, not stressed or frustrated. If something feels unreachable today, try again tomorrow. Sleep on it. It's amazing the amount of times that the 'sleep on it' technique worked on my drawings, even for professional and commercial work. Be kind to youself and find what works for YOU! Producing something is better than produing nothing. Even if you feel like you're 'only' making a couple of drawing a month, that's amazing that you're making something with your HANDS!! From NOTHING!!

And also, I personally think that posting 2 or 3 times a month is actually pretty productive. We have lives, jobs, responsabilities in our daily lives, and also need some good time to rest, so all things considered, I think you're doing amazing already! !

I hope my answer was a least a bit useful to you! I'm always happy to answer questions like this one, it's super interesting to get to think about my process and talk about it with others. So thank you for the interesting question and also the lovely and powerful words :) It's especially thanks to asks like this one that I'm really happy I am able to interact with people with my art.