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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

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Legally Yours - Ch. 26

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester tops the list of hottest entrepreneurs 2020 and yet, there’s still something he wants but can’t have because, in order to get that, he would have to settle down and get married. She agrees too quickly because she wants to secure a more comfortable life for her and her daughter. Will she be able to help Dean get what he wants without losing herself in the fake story they spin up to deceive his father and the world?

Chapter Warnings: We’re still at the angst, because someone’s obviously still an idiot. We also might detect some jealousy.

WC: 4214

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

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Five days later, she’s sitting in her kitchen, job application website open on her laptop while Bobby’s at work and Olivia’s at school.

The first night was hard on the girl. Olivia crawled into bed with her, spinning up tales that she missed her toys they left at Dean’s but she is sure that a part of the little girl’s heart is aching for Dean because hers is too.

Y/N hasn’t heard from him and it took everything in her not to shoot him a message and ask him how he’s doing. She’s fairly certain that if she would choose to go down that road, she’ll get weak and that’s against the new rule that she’s set up for herself in order to protect herself and her family.

Donna sent her a text when she arrived back at her old apartment, asking how her honeymoon was going and when Y/N told her that she’s back, Donna offered to come over. They sat around the tiny kitchen table with boxed wine between them, drinking and talking. Yeah, boxed wine. Over are the days of cheap bottles. Well, she reckons she could afford it with the money from the marriage contract but she’d rather not as she has a future to think about.

She didn’t sulk, didn’t allow herself to. She needed to be strong for Olivia and keep it all together. Her friend parted with a promise to help her find a man who she deserved. She only smiled. Couldn’t find it in her heart to say that she’s not looking for a man, that she thinks that Dean’s ruined her for all other men, that she’s most likely destined to be alone forever. At least she has Liv, and honestly, that’s all that counts. God, she’s so glad to have that little girl. She would have been broken beyond repair if it wasn't for Liv.

While she touches up her CV at the kitchen table where she poured her heart out to Donna the evening before, her phone starts to buzz next to her. Her heart jumps. She hates the buzz of her phone because she’ll always think that it could be Dean and when it’s not him, she will always feel so deflated. Somehow, she’s okay with the situation but a little part of her still hopes that he would change his mind and come back to her.

This time it’s no different when she looks at her phone. If anything, it’s even worse. Sam’s calling.

She debates on not picking up but decides that she has to because he’s probably calling about the annulment. It’s really the only thing left that keeps her tied to Dean on a contractual level, and after she signs that, it’s like the marriage never existed.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N,” The man can be heard on the other end. A little breath leaves him, and she can imagine that he’s smiling. Ever the friendly Sam. She can’t lie, she misses him too.

“You’re calling about the annulment?” She gets straight to the point. There’s really no point in stretching this out unnecessarily.

“Um, actually no. Dean’s not really talkative and he’s not going to sign it.”

“What do you mean he’s not going to sign it?” She doesn’t understand, has a hard time wrapping her head around it. Why did Dean still want to be married to her when she walked away from him? There’s no point in pretending anymore and she has made up her mind. The only way she’s going is forward and not back. She wants to move on.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s only been back two days, I need time to talk him through it. We should have the annulment finalized by Monday, I promise.”

“I trust you,” She says into the receiver, because she does. If someone can talk sense into Dean, it will probably be Sam. “How is he?”

“Do you want to hear the truth or do you want me to lie to make you feel better?”

“Lie.”

“He’s doing great.”

“That’s good.”

Sam snorts, “Well, I knew you'd feel better if you knew that he’s doing okay without you.”

“You’re right. I don’t want him to feel bad but somehow I also want him to, you understand?”

A burst of laughter rumbles on the other end, “I know,” Sam replies, “He’s a gigantic dick, Y/N. I think he knows that and he’s beating himself up for it. He’s been back at work for two days and according to Rowena, it’s hell. He doesn’t talk to anyone and if he opens his mouth, it’s to shout at people.”

“Wow, he’s coping well.”

The man laughs again, “Dean’s never been good at taking rejections. He’ll get over it, eventually. Someday. Maybe. Well,” Sam pauses and exhales loudly, “Tell you the truth, I don’t think he’ll get over it. I’ve never seen him like this and it scares me, hence me calling you.”

Y/N feels sorry for him. And there she thought that she was miserable without him. Somehow it gives her a little satisfaction to know that he’s doing just as bad, if not worse. Can anyone blame her to feel like this?

“I’m not going to go back to him just so that he’ll stop being an ass to other people.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask you about.”

“Ah, why beat around the bush, Sam. What is it?”

Sam sighs, “Okay, as you might know, Dean hasn’t told anyone that you two broke up.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She hopes Sam can feel through the phone how hard she’s rolling her eyes right now.

“Shush,” Sam scolds and continues before she can say sorry for interrupting him, “He has a charity gala to attend tonight, and it would be great if you would accompany him.”

The bark of laughter that leaves her mouth is hard to hold back, “You what?”

Sam’s not laughing, “I mean it, Y/N. He’s not doing great and he has to attend. Technically you are still his wife and you have a contract, so..”

“Oh, please, don’t come at me with a contract, Sam. Dean told me that I’m allowed to walk away. He said that he doesn’t need me to get the shares. He wasn’t the one stopping me when I walked out on him, so tell me, why should I do this? Why should I pretend when I don’t have to anymore?”

“Because you still care about him,”

Sam’s answer is a hit to her heart. She does. She cares so fucking much but also, that means that she’s not going to give in because it’s time to put herself first. She can’t hold herself together for Olivia’s sake when there’s nobody backing her up. She won’t go through this again.

Of course Sam’s on Dean’s side. He’s friendly to her but if Sam would have to pick sides, it would always be Dean’s.

“I’m sorry,” She says, her voice shaking a little. No, she’s not going to cry. Not again. Not anymore.

“Okay,” Sam relents too easily, “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“No, I can’t. Dean’s lucky to have you as a friend.” She means it.

“I’ll come to see you as soon as Dean signs the papers, Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself and Olivia, okay? And tell me if you need anything.”

“I will, Sam. Thanks.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

She hangs up before she can say goodbye. The phone drops onto the table and she’s back to burying her face into her arms as she sobs.

For the next five weeks, Y/N tries to avoid looking at tabloids pages, instead, concentrating on Olivia and helping to ease the little girl back into her old environment.

Of course there have been texts from Donna telling her that there’s no news from Dean, at least not with another woman. She knows that she shouldn’t care about it, because if he wants to date again, it’s his right, but somehow, she can’t help but feel the pinpricks in her heart. It’s not something bad but something good because it keeps her hopes alive for a while. After she was reluctant to answer Donna's text about Dean in the first two weeks, her friend has decided that she doesn’t want to update Y/N anymore. Which is also fine with her. The less she’s reminded of Dean, the quicker it will be to get over him.

She snorts out a laugh at that thought. Yeah, right.

Bobby has been weird the last two weeks too. He went out to meetings, saying it has something to do with his union but she knows that he doesn’t even have a union so she really doesn’t have any explanation for the two to three times the man went AWOL when he should be home but again, it’s nothing that should worry her. Bobby is still young enough to have his own life. She guesses that it has to do with a new lady friend maybe. Maybe Bobby’s being cautious too, maybe he doesn’t want her and Olivia to know when things aren’t steady with the two. She couldn’t blame him for thinking like that.

Tonight is the first time in over a month that she feels comfortable enough to leave the security of her own home. Perhaps Donna has something to do with it, begging her to finally go out and face the world, and Y/N can’t lie that Donna’s not right. It’s time to face it like a grown-up. She can’t be buried in her four walls forever. She eventually has to go out and socialize. She’s been going out a lot for interviews but that’s about it. No company has called her back yet, though. Thankfully, she still has more than enough money to get by.

As soon as she arrives at The Roadhouse and Donna sees her, the woman is quick to be by her side, “I have a surprise for you!”

“Oh no,” Y/N rolls her eyes, “I hate surprises.”

“It’s not bad, I just thought, you know,”

“Donna,” She warns her friend. Somehow, she doesn’t like where this discussion is going.

“There’s this guy, I invited him. He’s nice, so be nice, okay? He’s not going to be the love of your life, I know that too but you should put yourself out there, just a drink, okay? It will broaden up your horizon, maybe get your ex-husband out of your mind for a little bit.”

Jesus, Donna’s talking a mile a minute. She barely understands what the woman is raving on about.

“What?”

“There,” Donna pulls her close, points a finger to the booth where Garth is sitting with someone whose back is turned to her.

“Oh, Donna, no!”

“Why, Donna yes!” The blonde exclaims cheerily before placing her hands on Y/N shoulders and pushing her towards the booth. “His name is Cubbie.”

“Cub-what?”

“It’s a nickname, Y/N.”

“If that’s the nickname I don’t wanna know about his real name.”

“Cuthbert. Cuthbert Sinclair, if you wanna know. He’s a magician.”

“That’s great. Super.” Y/N groans and turns around towards the exit but Donna’s hand is firm around her shoulders, guiding her back to where Garth is already standing up to make room for her.

“Hey, Cubbie! This is Y/N, the woman I talked to you about.” Donna’s all smiles and somehow, Y/N’s hand itches to hurt her friend.

“I’m Y/N,” She says then. The only way is forward now.

Cubbie, still what a fucking weird name, stands up and his hands immediately go to her arms and pulls her closer to press a wet kiss on her cheek.

Ew. Oh no, this won’t end well.

Reluctantly she sits down, wonders how long she has to sit here until she can get up and leave without being too rude.

She lets him buy her a drink and he orders fries to share between them while they talk. It’s not exactly bad but they just share small talk about the weather and where they’re from.

“So, you’re a magician?” She tries to sound like she’s interested, wanting to get into the deeper conversational territory.

“Yeah,” Cubbie reaches over and strokes her hair behind her ear and when he sits back up, he shows her the coin that he apparently pulled out of her, a bright smile dotes his face. She does her best to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

“Good god,” She exclaims and the man laughs.

He goes on to tell her about magic, which she again, has no interest in listening to. Jesus, the man can talk. While she debates on maybe hurting herself with a toothpick to have a fucking reason to get out, Cubbie excuses himself to go to the bathroom but before he goes, he leans down next to her, “How about we’re doing a little disappearing act, huh?”

“Oh god,” She huffs out but Cubbie doesn’t get her blatant disinterest. He just smiles at her.

“Think about it, I’ll be right back.”

Good riddance, is what she wants to say but doesn’t. Instead, she smiles a faux smile.

While he’s gone, she takes out her phone, shooting Bobby a text that she’ll probably won’t be that long when he feels someone is taking a seat in the booth opposite of her.

“Back alread—”

The word won’t come out because it’s not Cubbie who’s sitting across from her but Dean.

He has a cap on his head, is dressed casually in a black t-shirt underneath a blue plaid shirt. There are faint black circles under his eyes. He has shaved off his beard but from the length of the stubble, she can tell that he’s in the process of growing it out again.

“C’mon, Y/N, seriously? That guy?” He asks, sounding offended, and honestly, it’s not what she really wants the first thing out his mouth to be after not being on speaking terms for over a month.

“It’s none of your business, Dean.” She snaps at him.

“You’re right. It isn’t.” He agrees, “What is he? An accountant?”

“He has a name and he’s a magician.”

Dean barks out a laugh and even though it’s mean, she can’t help but smirk with him.

“His name is Cubbie.” She adds, which earns another hearty laugh from Dean.

“Cubbie the magician?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if he has a stage name,” Y/N shrugs, “He asked me if I wanna do a disappearing act with him.”

“Oh, he will disappear, alright,” Dean growls angrily.

She can’t read him. Why is he here, why is he crashing her blind date? So she asks, “Dean, what is this? Why are you here?”

“I’m here every week to see if you’ll be here.”

“You know that there are phones, right?”

“Would you have answered the phone if I called?” He challenges her and she holds his gaze. He’s right, she probably wouldn’t, even if she was hoping that he’d call but she doesn’t think that she would have picked it up because she doesn’t know if her heart can take what he’s going to tell her over the phone. “Yeah, I thought so. How’s Olivia?”

“She’s good. She enjoys being back at school. She’s going on a field trip in two weeks and I think I’m going to go along to chaperone.”

Honestly, Y/N has no idea why she’s telling him that. Why she easily falls into a conversion with him about little things. But it feels easy, it feels like meeting an old friend. Someone where she can just pick up where they left off, even if they haven’t seen each other for a long time. Dean was her friend, she can’t deny that, and she guesses the reason why she feels at ease is that her heart can’t forget it either.

“I can do that, too,” Dean suggests without even thinking twice.

“Dean, she’s none of your concern, we’re fine without you.” Her words might be too harsh but he needs a reminder that not everything revolves around him.

“Great.” He mumbles as Cubbie comes back from the bathroom. The poor guy stands there and is a little irritated by Dean’s presence.

“You ready to leave?” Cubbie asks, straight up ignoring Dean’s presence and she has to give him that. It takes balls. Dean’s not someone who can be ignored. He’s tall and broad and yeah, awfully good looking.

She stands up, nodding her head. Even if she has no intention of going anywhere with Cubbie, she also knows that she can’t stay here with Dean.

When she walks away, Dean holds her back by her wrist. The touch of him is almost too much to bear and she stills, has to close her eyes as she tries to breathe evenly.

“You’re leaving with him? Seriously?”

Opening her eyes to look at the source of the voice, she can clearly see the irritation on Dean’s face.

Pulling her hand from his hold, she brings it close to her chest, fearing that she’d reach out if she let her heart decide over her mind, “It’s none of your business, Dean. You had your chance but you blew it. I’m trying to move on.”

Dean stands up too and he’s close. The warmth radiates from him. Her body betrays her a little, sways a little closer to him. Cubbie is a couple of steps ahead but he stalls and looks back, waiting for her to follow him out. She wants to, she really does, it’s just so hard to move when the magnetic pull of Dean wraps itself around her.

“Now, say it again a little more convincingly. Make me believe it.” Dean demands with a gruff voice while he crosses his arms over his chest, his palms nearly disappearing into his armpits, as if he too, has to resist reaching out to touch her again when it’s not what she wants.

How is it possible that he still can read her like a book? It’s not fucking fair.

She narrows her eyes, staring him down. “You’re an ass, Dean.” She hisses and pushes out of the door, past Cubbie. When she’s out, she flags down a cab and gets in. Only when the driver rounds the street of the first block does she realize that she left Cubbie at the bar. Great. Now the act with her leaving the bar with some date is even less convincing to Dean.

God, she’s a failure.

“You know he still cares deeply about you, right?” Donna flops down on Y/N’s worn out couch with a bottle of beer in hand and Y/N walks over to join her friend with her glass of red wine.

The incident at the bar in which Dean had held a metaphorical pissing competition against an oblivious Cubbie was four days ago. Almost a distant memory. She hasn’t heard from the magician, but also it’s not really surprising since they didn’t even exchange their numbers and Donna has not mentioned him again. At least there’s that.

She frowns for a moment, “Cubbie? He barely knows me.”

Her friend rolls her eyes to the back and takes a pull at the bottle, “Dean, dummy!”

“Yeah, well, he has a hell of a way of showing it.” She grumbles, burying her face into her goblet and tips it back to take a big gulp.

Donna admitted after the incident that she watched them with amusement. Poor Cubbie was standing there lost and sulked away on his own. Apparently, Dean grinned brightly, and god, just the image of him being so joyful and cocky about her misery makes her want to smack him across the face. But for that, she would have to see him again, which she won’t. Nope. Not going there. She can’t move on when he keeps popping up.

“You don’t see it, do you?” Donna tilts her head that’s resting on the back of the old faded sofa, cocking her eyebrow as she asks.

“See what?” Y/N eyebrows match her friend’s.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” Donna huffs out, followed by a giggle. Okay, the woman should definitely not drink any more beer, also since tomorrow is Monday and she has to work. Y/N for her part, is still struggling with finding a job that would keep her head above water. She’s debating on taking two lesser paid jobs but then again, there would be no time left to spend with Liv and since she’s making Liv her priority, she keeps on searching. The blonde lays her hand on Y/N’s thigh, squeezes it, “He’s so fucking in love.”

With knitted eyebrows, she glares at her friend. Dean? In love? Has that been obvious? She shakes her head, “That’s not what he told me,”

Her friend sits up straight and turns to her before taking a big swig of her beer and slams it onto the coffee table. Y/N gets irritated, shushes her friend with a nudge of her elbow. Liv is sleeping next door, and Donna usually knows that she has to be fucking quiet.

“Oops,” Donna says with a shrug, and they both freeze to listen if Liv has woken up because of the noise. When they don’t hear a sound, they both breathe out in relief. Yeah, there’s no chance Donna will get another beer from her tonight. The blonde grins at her. A grin that spells mischief, “Have you ever thought that Dean Winchester, a guy who’s never been in love might not know how it feels to be in love? Have you ever thought that he might be so fucking gone on you and tries to identify his feelings but he can’t because he doesn’t fucking knows what it is?”

God, Donna talks a mile a minute and Y/N’s brain is having trouble catching on and processing.

Her friend pauses to wriggle her eyebrows at her but otherwise, Donna doesn’t say anything because she waits until it settles.

Memories of the last day on the beach flashed in her mind. She recalls him asking her how she knows when you love someone and her answer was you just know.

Could it be that he was struggling then already? He probably was but she was too deep in her own mind that she didn’t really notice.

“No,” She answers.

“No, what?” Donna asks.

“No, I have never thought that he doesn’t know how it feels to be in love. But I mean, he’s loved his mother, right? He loves Sam to a certain extent. He’s a grown ass man. He should know how he fucking feels.”

“My god, your skull is thicker than I thought.” Donna rolls her eyes dramatically. “Loving a parent is not the same as loving a partner, duh! And with Sam. There’s the bro thing, I guess? They love each other but it’s just all caveman-esque grunting and a lot of back-slapping involved. It’s how I love you,”

“You love me while you grunt and slap my back?”

“Shut up!” Donna laughs, “Anyway, where was I...oh! Yes. Listen, Y/N, maybe you’ve been too harsh on him. I mean, yeah, of course, you have Liv to care about but don’t tell me that Liv was heartbroken when you brought her back to this place.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. When she snaps out of it, she tips her wine glass back and empties it in one go.

Her friend watches her, pauses to let the things she said sink in. God, she doesn’t know why Donna’s only talking about Dean now. It’s been what? Almost two months. Where was Donna when she needed that kinda talk at the beginning when she left Dean? Donna was always here, her mind says, you just didn’t want to burden anyone and you thought that you could manage everything on your own.

“Fact is, Y/N. I’ve never seen him like this. He barely goes out, even if he’s invited to events. The gossip sites avoid him because he became a grump while picking up fights with photographers, and don’t even get me started on the last TV appearance where he only gave short, snappish answers, making the stupidly hot interviewer very uncomfortable. A couple of months ago, he would have charmed the woman and they probably would have fucked when the producer yelled cut.”

“How do you know they didn’t?” She asks, and she doesn’t even know why she asks because the thought of him hooking up and going back to being his old self does make her feel a little uncomfortable and admittedly, jealous.

“Honestly? Maybe because the interviewer told a tabloid that she refuses to interview Dean again because he’s a dick.”

“Well, he is a dick, she’s right.” She says drily, and she’s standing behind her opinion, it’s just now that Donna has said all those things that it makes her really wonder if she’s been too harsh to Dean. Maybe he just needed more time to figure out what he was feeling. But again, it’s too late now, isn’t it?

Ch. 27

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#legally yours #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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okitodorokidoki · 4 years

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a28+34 | miyuki kazuya

pairing - miyuki kazuya x fem!reader genre - angst, fluff wc - 2121 ao3 - author’s note at bottom

PROMPTS 28 “I care about you.” 34 “Please don’t do this.”

Looking back on your relationship with Miyuki, there were a lot of moments that were questioned by people on the outside. Moments that the two of you knew were teasing or joking were blown out of proportion by people who may have overheard, either from the two of you or someone else. Your relationship always felt like it was on a seesaw, the two of you on each end with the occasional hijacker dragging you down before the other was ready.

You lasted an entire year before you felt like you had to take a step back. You couldn’t even consider it a break in your relationship, it was really just a “I have a lot going on in my head right now and I would appreciate if I could just take a moment to myself to relax.” When that was over, you came to him with your sorted thoughts and talked things through. Miyuki had never seemed like the kind to be a good communicator in a relationship, but he seemed to realize that if he wanted the joy of tormenting someone, he had to take the responsibility of not chasing them away.

Now, on your final year in college, it finally felt like things were getting to be too much. You’d gotten through the high school fan girls, the injuries, the late nights, the bad rumors, the days with no updates outside of catching him in the hallways. But now, as you read the article written about how he was a prospective pick across the country, you finally felt like something was trying to take him from you. It had been smooth sailing, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t be torn apart by anything petty going on around you. But now, seeing a real-life decision he would have to make- one that would positively effect his life for years to come- you could feel the weight pressing down on your chest.

He was supposed to come by your dorm for movie night, but part of you wanted to text him to cancel. You knew it was childish, getting upset that he was such a good player that he was desired across the country, but that didn’t change the fact that you were upset. Looking over at your phone, resting innocently on your nightstand, you weighed your options for a moment, before remembering your occasional movie nights were some of the only times the two of you had alone together.

Closing the magazine, you picked up your phone and set the cause of your turmoil down. You were going to feel upset, and you were going to have movie night. One of those things couldn’t take a rain-check, so you figured you’d have to take a nice shower and shove your emotions down.

You dried your hair as you sat on the foot of your bed, waiting for Kazuya to show up. There were maybe five minutes left before you chose what movie you wanted to watch without him. Youtube was playing on your phone beside you, a random playlist of videos that always made you laugh when you weren’t feeling too hot.

The knock on the door was barely audible from under your towel, and your sheets nearly brought you to the ground as you stood too quickly. A brief litany of curses slipped as you rushed to the door, opening it to see you boyfriend.

“Miss me?” He asked with his usual grin.

You snorted and tugged him in by his t-shirt, watching his grin quickly disappear to give you a kiss.

“If I said yes, your head wouldn’t fit through the doorway.”

He snickered and followed you inside, locking the door behind him. “You didn’t pick out a movie without me, did you?”

“Yes. It’s a real tear-jerker, you won’t ever see love the same again.”

“Oh, porn?”

You grabbed a throw pillow as you passed the couch and tossed it expertly behind your shoulder. His snickering persisted through the solid ‘thump’ of it making contact, so you took a moment to curse his catcher’s instinct.

“You said you saw one you wanted to watch last time, right?” You asked, getting comfortable on your bed.

“Yeah, I added it to your watch later list.” He shut your bedroom door before shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the back of your door.

“You better not have ruined my algorithm.”

“You don’t think that docu-series you watched at 3am instead of studying did enough damage?” He climbed on the bed, and settled in next to you, casually throwing an arm over your pillows for you to lean back into him.

“No, because that was exactly what I want to watch more of.”

It wasn’t long before the movie he’d chosen caught your eye, and you dimmed your bedside light before snuggling securely into his side as it began.

“This isn’t going to make me cry, is it?” You asked.

“Everything makes you cry.”

Your hand shot out, but he grabbed your wrist before your fingers could pinch into his side. “Ah-ah! This is sweet boyfriend-girlfriend time, no place for your meanery!”

“Kazuya, that’s not even a word, you bas-” his hand released your wrist to pinch your lips shut.

You glared up at him and he grinned, leaning in for a quick peck to your squished lips. Letting out a huff, you scrunched your nose at him before turning back to the tv. The introductory scene hadn’t even finished before you were adjusting, feeling a mild pinch in your lower spine from laying on your back.

“Aw, baby wanna cuddle?” Kazuya teased, holding you closer.

“Don’t be an ass,” you mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your head.

Another five minutes of movie passed, Kazuya’s hand rubbing your arm making you feel all warm and fuzzy, skin tingling pleasantly under his touch. The plot had begun, and you were already setting up three different endings in your head for the cheesy romance they were spinning.

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” The main lead said to his girlfriend. “If I stay here with you for the rest of my life, what will I even become?”

That definitely threw a wrench into all three of your predictions.

“You said you loved me! That you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me!” She cried back. “Does your stupid job really mean more to you than I do?”

“You know that isn’t fair! I’m not leaving you, I’m just trying to move on with my life! Maybe you should do the same!”

The lame, admittedly unrealistic dialogue on screen felt like it was aiming to punch you in the gut. Everything you were thinking of before your shower came back, and you felt like you were manually keeping yourself breathing. Everything felt weighed down once more, and the hand gently caressing you was beginning to feel like it was burning. You suddenly raised your arm, throwing Kazuya’s off of you as you sat up.

“Babe?” He asked, starting to sit up with a concerned expression.

“I didn’t get drinks. Or snacks.” You got off your bed as casually as possible, trying to remember how to open a door like a human being so you could escape to the kitchen with little to no suspicion.

You opened your fridge, and leaned into the chill. It was a bit too much around your ears where your hair was just a little damp, but it felt like you needed it. You took a few deep breaths to steady yourself before grabbing a drink from the fridge, gently closing it once more as you set your find on the counter. You glanced back down the hallway, your door was undisturbed from where you left it, cracked open just a bit.

You leaned against the counter, head bowing as you collected your thoughts. On a normal day, you’d just start telling Kazuya how bad the dialogue was, or how you would have framed the scene differently, but today all you could think of was how that scene would push its way into your life.

How would Kazuya start the conversation? You felt like he wouldn’t come in guns blazing yelling that it was his life, and he could do whatever he wanted. You hoped he knew that you would never try to drag him down or hold him back, that you would love and support him no matter how much it hurt to see him go. You put your hand over your face as you felt your eyes burning, willing your emotions to calm down before you started to look like you’d been crying. A slight touch at your back had you leaping, a ragged gasp tearing from your throat. You turned, eyes wide to see Kazuya standing there with an upset expression.

“Ah- sorry,” you said, turning back to making drinks. “Just got a bit of a headache.”

“Baby...” you froze as Kazuya’s arm slid around you, coaxing you closer. “Please don’t do this.”

You took a breath, prepared to find another cover-up, but nothing would come out. You melted into him, turning your head to press your forehead against his collarbone as his arms wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, chin bumping your head. “I was honestly waiting for you to say something like ‘this dialogue is so forced’ or ‘if he loved her he’d talk with her and wouldn’t need to yell.’ I didn’t think you would be hurt.”

“I’m… I’m scared, Kazuya.” His arms tightened around you at your words. “I care about you. I’ve cared about you since we were in high school, and I knew nothing would ever happen to us because we were always there. Even when we couldn’t see each other, we were at least both on campus. But if you-”

Your voice cracked, and you pressed a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from crying. This wasn’t something you wanted to cry over. This was his future, you were happy for him, you would stand by him through everything. But you wouldn’t be standing by him. You probably wouldn’t even be able to make it to most of his games anymore, at least not for a while. One of his arms slid up to hold your head to his chest, and he started to sway slightly as you listened to his heartbeat.

“I want to move forward in life,” he said. “And I want to do it with you. I don’t care how far apart we are, we’ve made it through this much shit already. Besides, I hear doing it over facetime is-”

You throat constricted on a mix between a choke and a sob, Kazuya patting your back and laughing.

“Better?” He asked.

You nodded, turning your body to properly wrap your arms around him.

“I love you,” he said. “Don’t you ever forget it. I know I’m an ass, but do you think I’d pull my punches if I didn’t love you?”

“You pull your punches because you know I’ll make you cry, pretty boy,” You mumbled into his chest.

“Yes, yes, my ferocious little girlfriend knows all of my weaknesses.” He pressed another kiss to your head. “Now can she get us drinks so we can stay hydrated while we tear this movie apart limb by limb?”

You snorted, and pulled away wiping your nose pathetically with your sleeve.

“Can she also change her shirt before we cuddle again?”

“You’ve got more snot on you than I do, pretty boy!”

“Ah, your cutting words! How will I ever recover?”

You gave his arm a half-hearted swat as he turned to your pantry for snacks.

“But seriously,” he said over his shoulder. “Even if I get drafted halfway across the world, I’m tossing you in my duffel bag and taking you with me. There’s no way I’d survive all these self-centered pitchers if I can’t rest my head on my girlfriend’s thighs and let me woes escape me.”

“Don’t ruin the moment, Kazuya. You were almost being sweet.”

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you returned the gesture. Some things really hadn’t changed since high school, but as you curled back up to his side in your bed, tearing the characterization of the main lead to shreds, you realized that even if some things went away, they’d only make way for new ones.

“So, I know you didn’t seem to positive the first time I brought it up, but seriously, facetime can be an incredibly efficient method of-”

“Keep it up and you won’t get any methods.”

He snickered, placing another kiss to your head.

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for over a month because I lost my banners 😭😭 I thought I’d come back to it when I found them but I completely forgot until now with everything going on. I've also never done an author's note on here before but I’ve felt weirdly,,, muted on my own blog so I hope you don’t mind I start doing them! I still like having nothing but the info at the top though so unfortunately I’m hiding myself at the End </3

#daiya no ace #daiya no ace x reader #daiya no ace imagine #miyuki kazuya #miyuki x reader #miyuki imagine #ace of diamond #ace of diamond x reader #ace of diamond imagine

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

Barcelona

So this was inspired by Barcelona by Ed Sheeran, so I hope you like this!

Keep donating, educating and supporting: BLM resources // GLSEN

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“Babe, this is amazing!” he yelled, lifting you up off the ground and spinning you around, “We’re going to celebrate, you and me. Somewhere neither of us has been before!”

“We can’t just up and leave, can we? I mean I start next week, I have to go buy more clothes, I have to-” you start listing off your seemingly never-ending to do list only for him to interrupt you.

“Then we fly off somewhere for the weekend and stay up the entire time, come back, sleep for a day, and then get your life together. It’s the offseason for me so I have nothing to do. Come on, when’s the next time we can be this spontaneous and just go?” Tito says, his eyes begging you to agree with him.

“Where would we even go?”

“Ok, close your eyes.” You look at him, your eyebrow cocked, slightly scared as to where this was going to end up. “Close them!” you do as he says, feeling his hands on your shoulders trying to release the tension you didn’t know you had. “It’s the early hours of the morning, we’re dancing, laughing, drinking, exploring. We’re having the time of our lives with no care in the world. Where are we?”

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

It had to be nearly two am, but Tito showed no signs of stopping, just as he had promised. The bar he had taken you to had to be closing soon, but by the way you two were moving, there was no way you would be going to sleep until the sun was up. You sat down to drink some water, only for Tito to sweep you off your feet and back on the dance floor. You couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt to move to the rhythm of the music with his two left feet and a bottle of red wine. You were spending your last night in Barcelona, trying to fit every last thing in before getting on a plane that night to head back to New York.

You had never seen him like this before: he was elated, on cloud nine with no chance of coming down. You loved seeing him this happy. Last year’s playoff exit had gotten him into a near depression, but this might have been just what he needed to pull him out of the slump he was having. You spent the few days you had seeing everything you could; Las Ramblas, Casa Batllo, Casa Mila, La Boqueria, Park Guell, and more places that you wouldn’t remember unless you scrolled through what had been nearly a thousand photos that you took.

With his free hand, he pulled you closer, his hand resting on your waistline as you two tried and failed to dance to whatever it was the DJ was choosing. You got lost in his poorly timed rhythm, just happy you were there with him. At that moment, the world was yours. You look up at his light eyes, not realizing that you had spent the entire time watching his feet to make sure he didn’t crush yours. “I love you so much. Thank you for this.”

He took a swig of the wine, handing the bottle over to you and pulling you even closer, which you didn’t even think was possible. Still holding on to you, he used his free hand to tilt your chin up to him, planting a kiss on your lips, pulling away to just stand there for a moment and smile. He was definitely drunk, but he was happy. He spins you around, taking you in close to him, your foreheads touching and his hands upon your waist. “Have I ever told you when I knew I loved you?”

“No. When?”

“Remember that night last year, you and I were at that rooftop bar back at home one night with the guys?” You pull out that memory; it was one of the nights during the All Star break. The guys were missing each other and somehow managed to shut down the entire bar for them to be together before getting on with the rest of the season. You wanted that night to last forever. Being with Tito that night was better than you could put into words. “You were standing at the other end the roof, just looking up at the sky and taking it in. The moonlight reflected in your eyes, I just knew it was destiny doing it right. You have such a talent for finding the beauty in everything, being able to tune out the noise and focus on what you love the most. Something like fate sent you to me, you’re the one I’m in love with.”

You can’t help but smile. “You came up to me that night, wrapped your arms around me, and just stared at the sky with me. The guys kept calling your name trying to get you back into their conversation about something, I don’t even remember, but you just ignored them, whispering in my ear that you would rather spend that moment with me instead.”

He pulls you into a kiss, pulling away to say, “I want you baby, solamente.”

You through your head back, laughing. “The fact that you’re drunk enough to speak some Spanish is concerning, right?” But you loved it. A few drinks in and he would slip into French, you understanding nothing that he said but loving the way the language rolled off his tongue. Get even more in him, and the limited Spanish that he knew would slip into conversation. The lights went on, signaling that it was time to leave, Tito pulling you in the direction of the door but not before snagging another bottle of wine for the road. You hear someone object, running out anyway as Tito threw some money down on the table.

You were out of breath, neither of you knowing where you were or where you were going. Barcelona was unknown to you, and neither of you were sober enough to be able to correctly navigate around the city, even with a map. You ended up at La Sagrada Familia, the last place you had wanted to go before leaving. “This was the last place I wanted to see before we left,” you say, standing in front of it and just looking at the building. You had learned about the building in your high school Spanish class, dreaming about the day you would go to Spain and see it. It’s been under construction for the last 138 years and it was probably another six years before it was complete. The long timeline was visible on the building; you could see the weathered stone right next to the new construction. It was fascinating, and neither of you thought you were going to be able to see it.

“I wish we could go in,” you say, starting to walk around the exterior.

“Let’s do this, come here,” he says, taking your hand and dragging you over to one of the walls. He pulls out his phone, finding a video someone had taken of the inside a few years ago. “It’s not updated, but this is what we can do for now.”

He puts his arm around you, holding the phone in front of your face as you drink the wine he stole. You feel him kiss the top of your head, pulling you in closer and rubbing your arm as you just watched the video.

“We could just sit here and wait until it opens,” you suggest once the video ends.

“Something tells me we need to go to sleep first.” You both laugh, him typing something on his phone. You pass him the wine, instead of him taking it with his hands, he motions for you to put the bottle to his lips. You try, spilling the wine all over him, getting red stains on the concrete by his feet. Neither of you can stop laughing, wine still dripping from his chin.

“You, are the worst. The absolute worst,” he says, between laughs. He pulls you up, promising to come back when it was open and you had coffee in your system. “Pero también, te adoro, señorita.” He whispers to you, pulling you through the empty streets. You can’t help but smile again as he’s speaking Spanish to you again. You remember enough of the language to have a basic understanding of what he was telling you: but you, I adore you.

You spent the next hours just walking around Barcelona, your phones nearly dead without enough battery to use the map app. You lost the bottle of wine somewhere on the way, hopefully in a recycling bin or somewhere that wasn’t considered littering.

“We’re never going to get to sleep before we leave tonight, are we?” you ask, somehow finding your way back to your hotel.

A devilish grin grows on his face, and you just know that sleep is no where in the future. “We can sleep on the plane, who cares? Let’s go plug in our phones and go up to the roof.”

“What could we possibly be doing on the roof?” you ask him, following his lead. You get to your room, the bed looking so great and comfortable. There was nothing more that you wanted than to just pass out with him right there.

“You’ve trusted me this entire time, so why not trust me now?”

“Because we haven’t been in a bed since yesterday morning and I’m going to need coffee in an IV drip thanks to you,” you joke.

He rolls his eyes, a smile dancing across his face as he pulls you up the stairs to the roof. You were there just in time to see the sun rising, the rays peaking up through the tops of the buildings. The sky was changing from the deep purple that surrounded you the entire night to orange, yellow, and white. You could feel the warmth hug you as Tito came up behind you and wrapped you in a huge, just like he did that night back at home.

“Just wait until we come back,” you hear him mutter. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into him, taking in the moments until you could go back.

“I can’t wait.”

#tito beauvillier #tito beauvillier imagines #anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagines #new york islanders #new york islanders imagines #islanders #islanders imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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tsumusamu · 4 years

Text

asks :D

sorry i took so long to answer these! i just put them in one post so i wouldn't spam too much

Um I read both your series recently and I just wanted to tell you omg I love them so much I couldn’t put down my phone I got so invested into it and if it’s not a bother if you could add me to the tag list for Amorentia and Call you mine🥺💜👉👈

of course! it’s not a bother! i’m happy to hear you’re enjoying the series! <3

hello, i just want to ask if you have any haikyuu fic recommendations (preferably abt bokuto or atsumu)? Or know any other acct/s that write them? im currently on a fic hunt and i just want some writing that’s as good as yours 🤧

hi there! honestly i havent read many haikyuu fics as of late but alkhale on ao3 is probably my favorite author of all time. they have explicit fics but their rated t fics are just as good. i admire them so much!!

I LOVE UR WRTING omgosh am looking forward to the next part of call you mine SO MUCH u have no idea !!! heheh take ur time will be patiently waitinggg <3 take care!!!

i’m so happy you like my writing it means so much! you take care as well ok <3

My emotions went everywhere!! can you add me to the Call you mine taglist please?😆

Of course!

Omg omg omg I really enjoyed the most recent chapter of ‘call you mine’!! I know you were stressed about writing/publishing it but GIRLL IT WAS AMAZING AND HEART-WRENCHING - and it was a great read! Keep up the awesome work, and I’m looking forward to seeing reader and Atsumu’s interactions in the future like UGH MY HEART. PLEASE, YOU LOVE BLINDED IDIOTS. Take care, lovely!! <3 stay healthy and get some good many hours of sleep! :))

GLAD THAT YOU ENJOYED IT!! yes i dont think it was my best work but i will do my best to keep writing in the future! they are such idiots that i felt myself cringing so hard while writing LOL </3 i will take care of myself and i hope you do too!!!

can I be tagged in the next update of Call you mine?

yes!

you are such a talented writer and i just love “call you mine”. i saw that you apologised for making part 4 12k words long, but honestly write as much as you want to bc we all need as much of this series as we can get. (btw i saw that you said you don’t know when you’ll post the next update, but i kid you not when i say that i’ll check your blog daily to see if you’ve posted another part of the series and to check our your other content as well 🤭)

YES HAHA sorry i do get really long winded sometimes hence the huge chapter that i posted a few weeks ago LOL the last chapter will be even longer so prepare for that....... sorry abt my inconsistency that i cant tell you when i’ll update next but thank you for being so patient and supportive!!

could i be added in the taglist of both atsumu fics 🥺

yup!

i am speed

and would love to be added to your general taglist whenever you update any of your fics!! thanks🤍

of course! <3

can i be tagged for the call you mine 🥺

yes i’ll tag you :)

i’m in love with the hogwarts haikyuu au! i think it’s an amazing idea that needs more stories

ME TOO ANY HOGWARTS AU HAS ME GOING INSANE I THINK IT’S ONE OF THE MOST ENTERTAINING AUS TO BOTH READ AND WRITE. i will definitely be writing more hogwarts haikyuu in the future!!

i forgot to add to that last post that what you’re writing is wonderful and amazing and can’t wait for part 4!

thank you so much for your support!

call you mine is such a masterpiece, you’re such an amazing fucking writer (like the plot and everything???? GENIUS) and i can’t wait for the next update sndnkejdh

AHHH ANON thank you im so happy that you liked call you mine uiefdiasifua im currently working on the update rn thanks for being patient!!

Hi i was the ao3 reader who discovered you and wanted to drop by and say i am sooo excited to read your latest chapter!!! i also wanted to say I love LOVE major love your hogwarts au fic! idk if you know james potter but you probably do seeing as you made an au but atsumu reminds me soo much of young james potter!! i read some fics of james potter and i find him and atsumu so alike in a a way i would love if you could do more takes on your hogwartsau!!! i could send you the links if you want!!

OMGJOIJAI I hadnt even thought of it that way?? now that you mention it james and atsumu in my story do seem to have some similarities but i hope i didnt make atsumu too much of a dickhead D: i will definitely be writing more for hogwarts haikyuu!

can i mayhap get added to your general taglist? your writing is AMAZING, never fails to send me into the stratosphere from how good it is.

sure thing! i’m happy you’re enjoying my work thank you for your message <3 pls dont stay too long in the stratosphere though it’s kinda hard to breathe up there LOL

hiii!!! can you please add me to call you mine taglist??

for sure!

IM SO EXCITED FOR PART 5 OF CALL U MINE AHHHHHHHHH

I HOPE IT WILL LIVE UP TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS!!

Hello!!! Can I please be added to the Amortentia and Call you Mine taglist please? ❤️❤️ I think about them all the time, Atsumu brain rot for life!

Also super hyped for your upcoming Osamu fic! You’re amazing, I hope you’re not too stressed! Stay hydrated and get enough sleep you wonderful human being ✨✨✨❤️❤️

YES OF COURSE U CAN AND ATSUMU BRAINROT FOR ME 24/7 AS WELL. i hope i’ll be able to finish that osamu fic soon aaa thank you for being patient <3 please take care of yourself as well!

Will ch.5 be the last chapter of Call You Mine?

yes!

i just wanna say 'call you mine' is 10/10. your writing? *french kiss* i love how you go into detail - we see both atsumu's reader p.o.v - it gives depth to the characters! it's so realistic too. reader's hesitance is very valid - like how can you be sure of atsumu's feeling, when he's getting his dick wet everyday LOL! thank you for writing this, i am enjoying it so much! <3

HDSUUFHASUHF ANON PLS AHHH IM SO HAPPY THAT UR ENJOYING IT and also atsumu will get his dick wet one last time in the final part... u will see ;)

HELLO AMORTENTIA AND CALL YOU MINE ARE SO NICE im gonna cry my favorite tropes + one of them is a hogwarts!au + your writing 🥺❤️

HELLO HELLO THANK U FOR READING MY WORK!!!

i can’t wait for part 5 of call you mine. this series of yours is literally so GENIUS

i really hope that it will be satisfying!! thank you for your kind message!

I wanted to say that your writing is absolutely perfect. The way you capture these characters I’m truly speechless, and each chpt it just gets better and better 😭😭💛 could I ask to be added to the call you mine taglist? Truly, thank you for ur amazing writing !!!! 😭

AHHHH IM LITERALLY BLUSHING... THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENTS IM T___T yes of course you can be added to the taglist and thank you for reading my work!

ALSO YOUR TAKE ON TSUMU IS GOLDEN. IT IS CLASS. PERFECTION. GRACE. I CANT EVEN EXPLAIN. Anywayz CATCH ME CRYING OVER CALL YOU MINE TSUMU AND Y/N 🥲😭💛

PLS ATSUMU IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER I ABSOLUTELY LOVE WRITING MY TAKE ON HIM. IM HAPPY TO HEAR THAT YOURE ENJOYING THIS TSUMU. AND YES... CALL YOU MINE TSUMU AND Y/N LITERALLY DRIVE ME CRAZY THEY R SO DUMB BUT I CRY WHILE WRITING THEM

Hi there! I love your Call You Mine atsumu x reader fic so much, it’s so well written! Would it be possible for me to be added to the taglist please?

thank you! and yes you can be added!

hi, just caught up with call you mine! i know this might be an odd comment on it but i'm currently going through a similar situation with my best friend as reader is (gray area, we haven't talked in a while) and reading both of their perspectives really brought me comfort. anyway thank you for writing it :)

ooo wow :O i really hope the situation you’re in gets resolved soon im wishing you good luck!! im happy that my writing was able to give you comfort <3 thank you for reading and supporting my writing!

your video edits are just *chefs kiss* my friends and I have been laughing at them for days in our gc and have even inspired memes of our own 😅 hope to see more them, they’re too good istg sending you love from three art school kids from Europe 🥺💕✨

??!#())(!@ OMG HAHAHA i would love to see some of the memes you guys came up with LOL sending love right back at you <3

hi love !! can i be added your gen tag list if you have one?

yes, i’ll add you!

Hello! Sorry for the bother but I’m suck a HUGE fan of your smau! And I’m talking about “Call You Mine” it’s so good and depressing...but that isn’t the point! I know you are busy with something else but I would like to ask if it’s be alright if I made a small fic about that story? If not, that is completely fine and understandable!

Thank you for your time and cya next time!!

yup yup that series comes with an angst tag for a reason! you’re not being a bother don’t worry! i would prefer for no fics to be made based off of the story, i’m sorry :( but thank you for asking!

I just discovered your blog and I love your writing so much.

I was wondering if I could be added to the tag list for call you mine with atsumu x reader? This story hurts me so much and it's written so well.

Thank you and have a nice day 🧡

hi! thank you for supporting my writing! yes you can be added to the taglist and im sorry it hurts </333 hope you have a nice day too bb

When do you think the next part of amortentia will be up? It’s my favorite series 😫 (no rush though!!!!)

hmmm im really not sure unfortunately :(

Sorry to bother, but I literally went through every part of Call you Mine just now AND I LOVE EVERY BIT OF IT. Oh my goodness it hurts how much I love it. The friendship and the unspoken love for each other that leads to a long yearning for each other is literally my fanfic bread and butter. ITS SO DARN GOOD and I felt like I needed to tell you that. Anyways, I hope you are having an amazing week, you’re taking care of yourself, you’re safe and healthy! Thank you for what you do! 🤗

IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT YOU LOVE IT. GENUINELY. KNOWING THAT PEOPLE ARE ENJOYING MY WORK MAKES ME SMILE SO BIG. THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME YOUR THOUGHTS. please take care yourself as well, and thank you for your ask!

Hi! I recently saw your atsumu x reader fic on ao3 (Call you mine) and I haven't read it yet but I've seen others talk about it on tumblr so I was wondering if I could be added to a tag list for that fic (if you have one ofc). Feel free to ignore this ask if you don't have one or it's full!

yes i can add you the taglist! i hope you’ll enjoy the fic whenever you decide to read it! <3

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queer-crusader · 4 years

Text

Okay update on my life since it seems talking about it doesn’t trigger another panic attack/breakdown:

So i graduated in july right

And with the end of uni, my student funding ends too

So i look for a job bc i cannot sustain myself otherwise

Except the economy is shit, because the UK is handling the pandemic almost worse than any other country in the world (we love that)

Knowing i’ll need some financial support to tie me over, i apply to universal credit

I also know my roommate, who i’ve lived with for 5 years, is moving out in october, and i will need to find someone to replace her or i end up paying £1000/month for living in this flat, which i don’t have of course

Job search becomes more frantic and exhausting and stressful

Also my dad started throwing up at some point and is eating less and is very specific about not upsetting his stomach. This is strange because he is known for his iron stomach and has not thrown up in years. I know my family history, i have my suspicions, but the doctor says it could be an ulcer. It could be fine, but my brain jumps to the worst-case scenario, because why wouldn’t it? More stress

Universal credit gets back to me - application denied

I think, hey, the category they filed me under seems wrong, i should be a habitual resident, not an EEA jobseeker, because i’ve lived here 6 years now. So i apply for an appeal, explaining the situation

Few weeks later, i receive a letter. Appeal rejected. It goes into detail how some rule that was set up in 2016 (Brexit year) lists all the reasons why just living here for 6 years, building up contacts, creating a future, feeling at home, being allowed to vote for Scottish parliament elections, is not good enough. Every sentence is like a punch in the gut. The letter boils down to fancy government words that translate to “you’re a freeloading immigrant who, according to our records, might as well be living in Fiji, and we’re giving you fuck all. Good luck surviving”

Full-blown breakdown ensues, because I’ve been fearing this ever since i arrived but was told by EVERYONE that that fear is ridiculous. I fit in, i belong, i sound English, i’m fluent, i’m passionate and well-educated about local politics, etc. I knew it wouldn’t be good enough. Race doesn’t matter; I’m European, and for the UK government, that’s good enough.

Anyway, cue the next day, and my mum phones me with news

My dad is in hospital. Turns out i was right - bowel cancer. He’s going into emergency surgery the very next day to get a tumour removed

I don’t sleep that night, for obvious reasons

Dad comes out of surgery fine, they got the whole thing, took some extra tests to see if it spread but it’s looking good so far. Meanwhile i have images of my dad, skinny as hell and with a tube up his nose seared into my brain

I fly home two days later to be with my family, who obviously need me

My dad is cleared of cancer, which is AWESOME, but we do learn that if the doctors had waited a couple days longer he could have had a perforated bowel. My mum is furious with the GP who underestimated the case

I get in touch with my landlady, saying “hey, this is my life right now, i am not in a position to search for a roommate replacement. Here’s the pics we took of the flat, can you look yourself? Also, if i don’t find a job by the end of the month, I may have to move out as well due to financial struggles, so keep in mind there’s a chance you’re going to have to look for two new tenants”

Landlady’s reply: “oh i can’t afford for the flat to be empty so i’m gonna sell it now”

So now i don’t even have an option of keeping the flat. I’ll have to move out, job or not. I can’t afford a new flat, and i can’t look for one bc a) pandemic and b) im in another country looking after my recovering dad (who is still losing weight btw, 15kg or 30-something lbs or 2.5 stone in a month, it’s horrible to see but at least he’s feeling a little better each day)

If i lose my flat, i may not be able to get a UK job. If i don’t get a UK job, chances are, i can not return to Scotland

6 years of living here, of building friendships, contacts and connections, skills for a career (which is also down the drain - theatre, an industry that is currently being killed by a lovely combo of the UK govt and the pandemic), a home, a love for the county, an intimate knowledge of the workings here, the language, the system, the stories, the history, i almost know the system here better than the Dutch one - my entire adult life. I may lose.

There is a chance i’ll be able to cling on, and god im fighting for it with the few spoons i have after all this stress, but the chance of me losing everything is equally plausible.

I have now flown back to Scotland where I put myself in self-isolation

In a week, my roommate will have moved out and i have 10 or so days left stuck in this place all by myself

I will spend this time packing up all my belongings, choosing what to take back to my parents’ place with me and what to put into storage, which i will pay for with my remaining savings and some financial support from the parents (they can’t afford much tho, my mum is unemployed and on benefits and my dad is a freelancer recovering from fucking surgery. I have no idea what their financial situation is right now, but apparently they’re okay-ish with their savings. Still, stress, and i don’t wanna burden them even more)

Then there’s the hope that the lockdown won’t have regressed back to that point where every plane is cancelled, and i’m stuck in this country without a place to call my home. (Don’t worry, i won’t end up on the street if this happens, I have friends willing to shelter me until i can fly home if they have to)

And once i’ve left, it’s only a question of when, and more promenently if, I’ll be able to return here, to Scotland.

I have never been this stressed, and i have never been this terrified. I am angry all the time (yes you can read that in Zuko’s voice lmao), I’m exhausted, and i’m fuelled by spite against prime minister Blow-Job and sheer stubbornness in refusing to feel like shit, because i just can’t be bothered with that. I just about manage to get through the day, to get up at a reasonable time, to feed myself, to shower, to exercise (because if i don’t, my wonky hip will give me hell and i’ll be in agony on top of my depression and anxiety. We love functioning bodies). But I’ll be okay. I’m trying to find solutions for everything, one step at a time. I’m taking care of myself the best i can. And if you wonder where my writing updates are, or my shitposts, or my ridiculously excited tags, then firstly, thank you for noticing ohmygod i love you, and secondly, know that i’ll be back. If God exists, know im kicking their ass. Fuck all this bullshit, my life is a mess but i REFUSE to let it stop me in my tracks. I’m too powerful, i am Brian David Gilbert’s interpretation of Sonic (either a god or can kill god and it doesn’t matter which). I’m gonna keep on truckin.

#anne speaks #long post #tw cancer #tw weight mention #tw anxiety #tw depression #ya know #all the good stuff

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songtoyou · 4 years

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Chapter Two: Never Enough

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC)

Rating: PG to PG-13 (Might be 18+ for some chapters)

Description: There was always one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to communicate with one another openly but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation. However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either is willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Rating: PG with mild swearing

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,630

Author’s Note: I hoped those who ‘liked’ the previous chapter enjoys this one as well. I went back and made one little change in the first chapter. No longer is Raina a fan of the Seattle Mariners or Seattle Seahawks, but a Mets/Giants fan. Instead of having Raina grow up in Washington State, she grew up in New York on Long Island. It just made more sense location-wise for her to “closer” to Chris. I also changed something that happened during the summer of 2016 that involved another MCU actor. Let me know what you think. Feedback is always welcomed.

Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans or anyone in his family, and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.

Thank you to @southerngracela for your support! :)

*Updated for grammar edits.

July 2019

"Christopher Robert Evans! Come here!" yelled his mother, Lisa Evans.

"What, Ma?" Chris asked when he entered her kitchen and replied, "Whatever happened? I assure you that it was Scott who did it."

"Would you stop? You aren't in trouble. Sit down for a sec." Lisa told her oldest son.

Taking a seat at the kitchen table next to his mother, Chris asked, "Why are you on the laptop? You hate using the computer."

"I do, but you need to send Raina some flowers to celebrate her big opening night on Broadway. You were planning on getting her something, right?" inquired Lisa as she turned the laptop over to Chris for him to look through different flower arrangements.

"Uh…I don't know, Ma. I am sure you will pick out something great."

Lisa gave Chris a knowing look and said, "Chris, you spend more time with Raina than the rest of us. You know her likes and dislikes. Now come on, look at the arrangements and pick which one she would like best."

Chris groaned and turned away from his mother to roll his eyes. His mother's behavior was not unusual to always insinuate that Raina was more than a friend to Chris. Well, she was, but that did not mean his mother had to know all of the dirty details. Despite what people might think of the confessed mama's boy, Chris did not always share everything with Lisa.

"Don't get her flowers…" Chris began, but Lisa cut him off.

"Chris! Why not?"

"It would be better to get Raina chocolate, cookies, or brownies. Something edible. Just not cupcakes because she doesn't like them. Call them overrated. Trust me. She'd prefer to have food over flowers," informed Chris.

"Great. You choose something for Raina while I give Carly a call. Choose something good," Lisa ordered as she got up from the table and exited the kitchen.

As Chris perused the website's items, he knew what to get Raina when he saw the object: a personalized gigantic caramel toffee fortune cookie. It was perfect. Not only was it giant, but it was dipped in decadent caramel with fatty toffee bits sprinkled on top and drizzled with dark chocolate. Raina would love it.

"Ma! Come here and look at this! What do you think?"

Lisa entered the kitchen once again. She was still talking on the phone with Carly.

"Chris, whatever you get, Raina, it will be great."

"What should I put on the card since it is from all of us?" asked Chris with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"No. Just have it be from you. Scott and I already picked out a nice flower arrangement from the two of us for Raina," Lisa informed Chris nonchalantly and added, "Carly is wondering if you could watch the kids this weekend?"

Chris was amazed at his mother's crafty scheme. She had that way about her.

"I'll text her that it isn't a problem, and I know what you are doing."

Lisa feigned an innocent look. "What are you talking about?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out an exasperated sigh, Chris said, "Ma, it isn't like that with Raina, okay. We are just friends. Nothing more. We can't be anything more. It would ruin what we have already. Plus, we both don't necessarily want the same things. She has shared with me that she doesn't see herself having kids. I want kids, someday."

Lisa put her hands up in mock defeat. She was not going to press Chris press about his hidden feelings for Raina. He was an adult, after all. However, as a mother, it was hard not to step in and help her children no matter what they were dealing with at the time.

"Just be sure to write something heartfelt and sweet in the gift message," ordered Lisa and got up once again left the kitchen.

Now alone, Chris looked over the textbox space to put his message for Raina's gift. He typed and retyped what to write to her. Taking a deep breath, Chris let his inhibitions go and proceeded to write honestly about how he felt.

Raina,

You bring so much joy and love to my existence. I know it would not be the same If I did not have you in my life. You help keep me centered in this crazy world of ours, and I always know I can count on you if I need anything. I am so proud of you. Your determination, hard work, and motivation in achieving your dreams have always inspired me. Sometimes I wished you could see yourself through my eyes because then you would realize how special you are to me. I hope you know much. I appreciate and love you so much.

Love,

Chris

With the gift now ordered and soon to be on its way, there was no going back.

"1, 2, 3, and 4! Turn! Kick leg up! Cross and dip!" shouted the choreographer and added, "Let's do it again from the top!"

Trying to catch her breath, Raina got back into position next to her co-star, Aaron Tveit. The two have been working on this project for the past three years. It amazed them both how everything started at a workshop lab, to a small theater production in Boston, to debut the show on Broadway. It was a dream come true for everyone involved.

For Raina, it was a check-off on her list of career accomplishments. While Raina had been offered different roles for Broadway productions in the past, she never accepted the offers. She was either too busy promoting and touring for her albums. Or the parts offered merely did not appeal to her. Raina was cautious about particular projects and took her time in making decisions on which to pursue or decline. That would often lead to arguments with people at her record company or management as one or the other would tell Raina that she was not reaching her full potential as a star. But the Long Island native never wanted to be "famous for being famous." She was not the type to freely give out information about her private life to maintain relevancy with the press or fans. She wanted her work to speak for itself.

A child prodigy gifted in music, Raina has set her sights on impacting the world through song. Her parents, George and Marie, often worried about the precocious little girl when she would hold herself up in her room for hours and hours a day practicing on her guitar or keyboard while jotting down lyrics.

When Raina was 14 years old, she was discovered by her first manager, Jerry Sullivan, at the annual New York State Fair. Jerry was taken aback by the young girl's mature voice as she sang Reba McEntire's classic hits, "Why Haven't I Heard from You" and "Fancy." He immediately introduced himself to Raina and her parents.

Although skeptical, both George and Marie agreed to a formal meeting with Jerry to discuss their daughter's future. After all, they did not want their only child to get screwed over by some conman. Thankfully, Jerry turned out to be legit and had been in the music industry for 20 years as an artists and repertoire (A&R) personnel at Columbia Records.

"Not many talented singers I have seen in all my years in the music have what Raina has. She has 'it' and could go far," said Jerry.

"Oh, I don't want to be famous," little Raina spoke up and continued, "I just want to make music."

Jerry just beamed with happiness, "That is a great answer, little one. You have your priorities. That is important in this industry. You don't ever want to lose sight of why you started in the first place."

"Trust me, I won't," replied Raina with a toothy smile.

Unfortunately, it was hard to remain authentic in the music industry. Too many times, someone would try to mold Raina into who they thought she should be. She never wanted to be placed in a box or confined to one style of music. All Raina ever wanted to be was Raina.

"1, 2, 3, and 4! Turn! Kick leg up! Cross and dip!" repeated the choreographer, "Great job, everyone. Let us take a ten-minute break. Raina and Aaron, they need another costume fitting."

"I swear, I am at a point where I could do the choreography in my sleep," Aaron joked as he walked with Raina to the fitting area.

Raina let out a chuckle, "Isn't that the truth."

With rehearsals finally coming to an end for the day, Raina gathered her belongings, said her goodbyes, and headed home. Thankfully, her Tribeca apartment was only 15 minutes away from the Al Hirschfeld Theatre. Frank, Raina's driver, greeted her as he opened the black Cadillac Escalade's back door.

"How were rehearsals today, Miss Raina?"

"Not too bad," Raina shared with her driver, "I think once the show is finally open to the public, everything will be…a lot easier to handle."

"You're going to be great. The previews of the show went very well, as you mentioned," Frank reminded Raina and asked, "Who you got coming to see you on opening night? I'm taking my wife and youngest daughter to see it before she heads off to school in late August."

It was not uncommon for Frank and Raina to have an easy rapport with one another. Frank was a talker, while Raina was quieter and preferred to listen to his stories about growing up in Queens or his family that consisted of a loving wife and three daughters. Despite enjoying Frank's company, Raina knew that she still had to keep herself wary and not allow herself to be caught off guard. Sadly, her past experiences when allowing others into her world, both private and public, left her feeling burned. Raina learned how to be a master at changing the subject from herself to the other person prying into her personal life.

"Aw! That is wonderful. Where is Alisha headed off to again? Cornell?" asked Raina while thinking, 'Hook line and sinker.'

"Brown University in Providence. Got a full academic scholarship."

"That's wonderful. At least your daughter won't be too far from home. I kind of wish I went to college but never had the time with everything else going on."

"Oh, come on now. I'd say you turned out well. Not everyone needs to go to college to be successful. With Alisha, she always had her sights on pursuing a career in archaeology. By attending Brown, she will have access to the best research and educators the country has to offer."

"Well, if she is anything like her father, then she's got the charms to take the world by storm."

When Frank finally reached the building of Raina's apartment, he proceeded to step out to open her door, but she stopped him and said, "I got it, Frank."

"You sure?" he questioned.

"Yeah. Tell your wife and daughter I said 'hello.' Bye, Frank. See you tomorrow."

"Okay. Have a nice night, Raina."

Upon entering the apartment building, Raina was greeted by the concierge, Winston.

"Hi, Winston. How are you?" asked Raina to make polite conversation as she strode into the lobby.

"Very well, ma'am. Thank you for asking."

Raina cringed at being referred to as "ma'am" despite being two-decades younger than Winston; however, she knew he was only polite and professional. Stopping by to check her mail at the cluster of mailboxes, there was only advertisements and bills. Closing the mailbox with a loud sigh, Raina walked towards the elevator to head up to her penthouse apartment.

The Tribeca apartment was such a great find as the penthouse had its own intimate and homey feel. The condo's main floor greeted guests with an open space kitchen-living room area with a fireplace and powder room. Floor-to-ceiling arched windows dominated the living room, allowing natural light to seep through in the morning and afternoon. Overall, it was ample space for when Raina wanted to entertain her close friends. She was able to accommodate overnight guest stays with two sky-lighted bedrooms with one main bathroom. One floor up was where the master suite was located with floor-to-ceiling French doors that led to a landscaped terrace that included a hot tub, outdoor kitchen, along with fantastic sunset and nighttime views of the Tribeca skyline.

It was a place where Raina felt at home and safe from the prying eyes of the paparazzi or overzealous admirers. Thankfully, the majority of Raina's fans respected her privacy and knew the importance of boundaries.

Unfortunately, only Raina's name was associated with fellow celebrities that things could get out of hand and overrun with speculations. For instance, in the early years of her friendship with Chris, both fandoms speculated if they were more than friends. Whereas with the media, they were relentless in their prying for more information about the two stars. Luckily, it was a dilemma that the two friends worked hard to overcome. The bond that grew between Chris and Raina was not something either experienced with other people. It was unique in how relatively normal both felt around each other. There were no pretenses the friends had to follow or any egos getting in the way.

Sad that the same could not have been applied to Raina's last relationship. The media scrutiny and the online abuse/harassment from the actor's fanbase became too much for Raina to handle that she eventually had to end the relationship prematurely. It was not something that she wanted to do as she cared for the man very much. He was sweet, charming, handsome, and treated Raina with respect. He became someone Raina could confide in outside of her inner circle. She was lucky to have met him at President Barack Obama's final White House Correspondents' Dinner back in April 2016.

'What might have been? Where would my life be if I had stayed with Tom?' Raina often thought.

After taking a quick shower, Raina changed into baggy sweats and a fitted tank top. Stretching out on the couch, she searched through Netflix and selected season five of Schitt's Creek to watch. It was her go-to show that she liked to watch at the end of the day. The crazy antics of the Rose family always helped her relax and ease her anxious mind.

"Oh, David Rose, you are a precious little bean, wrapped in uncertainty and apprehension about the world, aren't you? I connect with you on a spiritual level," Raina commented to herself.

Chris was a bag of nerves ever since he ordered Raina that gift. It was not so much the gift that was causing him to have anxiety, but the message inside the present.

He let it all out in that gift message and was mostly worried about what Raina would make of his words. For instance, would she read them and express the same sentiment, revealing that Chris's feelings were more profound than mere friends. However, what if Chris's words caused her to be upset and that she would not be able to return his feelings in fear of losing their friendship.

'Or she just doesn't love you the way you might want her to,' thought Chris apprehensively.

Now, Chris was beginning to worry that he might have overstepped his boundaries with Raina. 'Why did you have to go and develop deeper feelings for her. I knew our whole friends with benefits wasn't a good idea.

Nothing good ever comes from that arrangement,' he scolded himself while taking Dodger out for a walk on his property. Chris hoped that the cool night air would help relieve the tension and worry he was feeling. It was either a walk or a cigarette, and he promised both his mother and Raina that he would no longer partake in the nasty habit.

The dynamic of Chris and Raina's friendship was a unique one. She was one of the very few that Chris allowed in his world. Over the years, Raina had become acquainted with his close friends from Massachusetts and individual family members outside of his mother, father, brother, and sisters. It was not unusual for Raina to attend one of his Uncle Mike's campaign rallies. That always got the fans on social media talking and wondering if there was something more than friendship between the two.

Chris and Raina's responses were always the same, "We are just friends." It was their go-to answer for years.

It was not until mid-2014 when they decided to add a new element to their friendship: sex.

What started as a fun hookup turned into a full-fledged agreement. For Chris, it was liberating to be with someone sexually with no strings attached. For Raina, she felt safe and comfortable with Chris. There was genuine respect and trust the two had for one another that when sex added to the mix, it did not cause a lot of complications, surprisingly. They took the time to set guidelines and go over expectations that both could abide by and not ruin the aspect of their friendship.

Their guidelines included:

Be transparent with one another as possible. Be open to compromises.

Be open to communicating with your partner.

Never be judgmental.

Be open about what is off-limits and what is acceptable.

Conversations or decisions cannot be one-sided.

Make sure each partner is on the same page.

Check-in with one another. Ask each other about how things are going and how the individual is feeling about the arrangement.

Develop a PR strategy for when friends or family members ask questions about the status of your relationship.

Ground rules: staying over is optional, breakfast in the morning is acceptable, no booty calls as it demeans the overall friendship, and friend-dates are suitable.

Even when Chris was in a serious relationship with Minka or Jenny, he could revert to his non-sexual friendship with Raina. Chris never quite understood how Raina could adapt so quickly whenever he had a new romantic partner. He honestly would not know how he would react if Raina showed up one day with a boyfriend on her arm.

'Liar! You'd flip your shit!' Chris thought, which he did when Raina was rumored to be dating fellow MCU actor Tom Hiddleston back in 2016. Both had been photographed together numerous times during outings and events.

'Six-months of Hell,' Chris bitterly referred that time.

The crazy thing about that time is that Raina did not share anything with him about her relationship with Tom. She kept it all to herself even after they broke up.

"Why does she keep that part of her life secret from me?" Chris asked himself as he walked up the steps on his front porch with Dodger following suit.

"Because it is none of your business how Raina's relationships go down," a voice spoke up, startling Chris.

"Holy shit, Scott! What the fuck are you doing out here?" yelled Chris as he stood in front of his little brother.

Scott replied with a shit-eating grin on his face, "Just getting some fresh air and enjoying the sunset. What have you been up to?"

"Don't change the subject. Why do you automatically assume I am talking about Raina? For all you know, I could have been referring to Shanna," Chris retorted back defiantly as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the porch railing.

However, Scott was not falling for what his brother was trying to sell. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Chris," Scott reprimanded and continued, "I know you and Raina have had a friend with benefits situation going on for the last five years. Of course, only when neither of you was in relationships with other people, that is."

"How the fuck did you know about that?" questioned Chris. His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

"Well, I had my speculations, but your reaction just now confirmed everything. What the fuck were thinking. Nothing good comes out of a friend with benefits relationship. Hell, I could have told you that while also saving you the eventual heartbreak that will eventually happen. So again, I ask, what the fuck were you thinking?"

Letting out a huge sigh, Chris moved to sit next to Scott on the porch swing. "I was thinking…that this is someone who I love and care about, you know. At first, the arrangement was, I don't want to say that it was just for fun. With Raina, it felt like a natural progression for our friendship. I don't know. I guess maybe…"

"You hoped that it could turn into something more down the road," Scott finished for his brother.

"Yeah. I felt we were getting to that point, but Raina kept pulling back, you know. Like, she was too scared to move in that direction with me,' Chris confessed as he leaned back on the porch swing.

Scott continued to stare at Chris as he contemplated what to say next. He felt terrible for his older brother and realized Chris's dilemma.

"I wish I could give you some sage advice, but honestly, I am at a loss on what you should do. Raina is special to you. To all of us. But, no one can deny that she has always had a little hold on your heart. The sad thing is that I don't think the poor thing fully understands the effect she has on you. All I can say is to tread carefully. Don't do anything rash," advised Scott and got up to go into the house.

'Too late.' Chris thought to himself.

"Fuck it! I need a cigarette."

#chris evans #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x original female character

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choicesfanatic86 · 5 years

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If Only: Chapter 18

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except characters unique to my story. Those belong to me. ;)

PAIRINGS: Liam x Riley (MC)

SUMMARY: And they're off to Cordonia! Riley and Liam have a heart to heart about what to expect when they arrive in Cordonia.

TAGS - If you would like to be tagged for If Only, please message me. I am reworking all of my fan fiction, and I know that a lot of people may no longer be in the fandom, or maybe they no longer want to follow If Only. If that is the case, I didn't want to unnecessarily tag someone. So please, let me know if you would like to be tagged for future updates of this piece.

PERMANENT TAG LIST: @umccall71 @drakelover78 @jamielea81 @bobasheebaby @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @theroyalweisme @gardeningourmet @jlouise88 @hamulau @traeumerinwitzhelden @blackcatkita @mrs-simmy @kaitycole @alwaysthebestchoice @mfackenthal @trr-duchessofvaltoria @pbchoicesobsessed @liamxs-world @flyawayboo @devineinterventions2 @ranishajay @jayjay879 @alepowell @greyeyedsmile14 @mspaigemoore @princesaakl @annekebbphotography @angelicfangirl @katurrade @cordoniaqueensworld @ao719

TAGS for If Only: @kawairinrin @gracechoices @madaraism @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @zilch3 @herladyshipxx @writtenbycandy @choiceswreckedme @queencatherynerhys @asprankle @hdcathcart @viktoriapetit @boneandfur @xxrainbowprincessxx @diamond-dreamland @flowerpowell @crookedslimecreatorpasta @debramcg1106 @ladynonsense @hellospunkiebrewster @sleeplessescapades @mitalijoshi @ladyoftherings @jemrmax2love @sashatrr @gooddaykate

11/25/2019 - It has been over a year since I updated If Only, and I feel absolutely sick about it. I apologize for not updating as regularly as I should have. I came back in May with the intent to keep writing and bring new stories to the fandom, but my world got rocked with a horrible family situation. I went MIA initially because I had a family emergency come up in September of 2018. My father was diagnosed with stage 4 esophageal cancer. He became stable at the beginning of May which prompted me to feel a bit reinvigorated to write again. We were thrown for a loop when he passed away suddenly and unexpectedly at the end of May after a brief period of stabilization. His kidneys shut down and he went into respiratory failure. Ironically, the cancer may have weakened him, but it wasn't his cause of death. I was a wreck. I've slowly gone through the grieving process and wanted to try my hand at writing again. I can't promise you I'll be consistent, but I'm going to try. Thank you all for the amazing support and thoughts. Thank you for your sweet reviews. I will be going through all of them. <3

Chapter 18

Riley was certain of one thing – she would always find herself awestruck at being able to fly on a private airplane. She hadn’t traveled all that much before, but when she did, it was a pain. The astronomical cost of airline tickets, the long lines, the long list of TSA security no-nos that she could never seem to grasp . . . all of it made the whole prospect of travelling more of a nuisance than anything else. Traveling with Liam, on the other hand, had been nothing but a dream since the moment they got to the airport. Liam once again took charge guiding her to where they needed to check in. Things at the airport had gone just as smoothly as they had when they left Las Vegas. Actually, it had gone even smoother than Las Vegas since they were flying out internationally and that terminal had not been nearly as crowded as the domestic terminals. Liam once again breezed by as Riley trailed behind him, still unaccustomed to the life of private jet-setting. She still found the entire thing to be a bit surreal. What normally would have been a two hour process had only taken them twenty minutes. Apparently, the life of royalty had some major perks.

A little over an hour later, Riley found herself sitting on the private plane that was scheduled to take them to Cordonia. She stared absently out of the plane’s window as she contemplated how differently her life had ended up than what she had planned out over the years. For one, she never, ever saw herself sitting on a private plane as they waited for the all clear for takeoff. For another, she never thought she’d get married to a complete stranger on a whim – in Vegas, no less. Then again, she also never thought she’d ever meet someone like Liam. She bit her lip lightly as she watched him joke around with the flight crew. Apparently, he knew all of them quite well. They weren’t treating him like a prince, but rather an old friend who they were excited to see. But that was the thing about Liam – despite his royal roots, he seemed like such an average, ordinary, everyday guy. He was genuinely a good guy - somebody you could sit around and have hours of conversation with and never got bored. She smiled and watched as he fawned over pictures of one of the flight attendant’s newborn grand-daughter. He never fell short of amazing her. She had always pictured herself winding up with some sort of science geek, who, like her, had spent years focusing on his education to land the perfect job. Liam was completely different. The connection they shared was one in a million. The time they spent together alone in her apartment had further solidified that fact. She’d have been foolish to let him slip away from her in Vegas, and if she had, she’d likely never find that sort of connection with someone else ever again. Their relationship wasn’t something that you could just dismiss as being a spur of the moment, one-time fling. He made her feel alive again, and she loved how he had forced her to reevaluate the life she was living, and helped her to see that none of it was what she wanted. It felt as if they had known each other for years instead of only a few days. There was just something about Liam that brought out her desire for an exciting new adventure. For the first time in years, she didn’t have a plan, and it scared the shit out of her. There was no denying the fact that she felt like she was swimming in the deep end of the pool without any sort of lifejacket. But, for some reason, she was okay with that, because she knew she’d have Liam by her side to help keep her afloat.

Riley’s smile grew as he chatted with a different flight attendant about their travel plans when they got to Cordonia. He was going on and on about how he wanted to take her to their country house to show her the orchards of apple trees. She looked around the bustling plane – apart from the three flight attendants she had seen, she had counted four more flight attendants and two pilots on their flight. She shook her head in disbelief. It was crazy to think that all nine members of the flight crew were aboard just for them. It was hard to believe that this was her life now.

Liam grasped one of the male attendants on the shoulder as he headed back over to where she was sitting. “You look rather deep in thought,” he murmured as he sidled into the seat next to her.

She smiled softly. “Just thinking about what a whirlwind this has all been. I guess it’s just hard to believe that we won’t have to listen to crying babies or fighting for space for our carry-ons in the overhead compartment.”

“I admit, those are things I have never had to worry about when I traveled,” he smirked. “But I can imagine those sorts of things would be rather inconvenient.”

“Exceptionally so,” she chuckled. “You’re so amazing with people, Liam. The way you talk to them and treat them with the utmost respect regardless of your status,” Riley looked at him in admiration. “You’re just a genuine, sweet man,” she said, clasping her hand in his.

He looked at her adoration. “I’ve known all of them for years – since I was old enough to travel with my father,” he smiled. “They’re like another set of family members. The older woman I was talking to? Dolores? She just welcomed her first granddaughter. My father gave her some time off to spend with the new baby,” he explained. “Being royal doesn’t make you any less human. Having compassion and being respectful are just decent things to do,” he explained as he squeezed her hand back.

“Well, you don’t see a lot of that in New York,” Riley mused. “And I’ll be honest, people can become a bit snooty when power goes to their head. Trust me.” She thought of the many rude people she encountered as she walked along the streets of New York City. There was always some guy in a total rush with a cell phone pressed against his ear and a briefcase swinging from his hand pushing his way down the sidewalk trying to get the next available cab. New York people were savage.

Liam chuckled at her observation. “Quite true, love. I assure you, that is just how I was raised. I just couldn’t live with myself if I treated anyone with anything but the respect that they deserve.”

“You are one in a million, Liam Rys.” She smiled broadly, squeezing his hand tightly.

“As are you, Riley Rys,” he winked at her.

She blushed as she changed the subject. “So, do we have any layovers or are we landing straight in Cordonia?”

He shook his head. “No stopovers, that’s not how private jets work, love. The flight should take about eight hours tops,” he explained. “We’ll be arriving in Cordonia at around 7:30 in the morning.”

“Wow, that early?” Riley asked.

“The time difference will take a bit getting used to, especially since you’ve lived in New York your whole life,” he explained. “The early arrival will be beneficial to us, I’m sure. I doubt the press will have caught wind that we’re arriving that early. It might give us enough time to get you to the palace without the mad rush of press on our tails,” he reasoned.

“The press?” She asked, her eyes widening.

Just as Liam was about to explain further, the pilot came over the loudspeaker announcing that they would be preparing for takeoff. Riley inhaled deeply as she felt the power and speed of the plane push forward as it readied itself for take off. She was momentarily distracted from the idea of the press and what exactly he meant about them being on their tails.

When they reached a comfortable elevation, the captain came over the loudspeaker again.

“Your Majesties, thank you for joining us this afternoon. We expect the flight to take roughly eight hours, and we are expecting clear skies and smooth travel. Should you need anything, please let any one of our staff attendants know and they will be glad to assist you with whatever you may need,” the voice boomed.

“Was he talking to me, too?” She asked, her eyes widening once more.

“Well, yes, love. You are the future Queen of Cordonia. It is only right that he address you as such,” he explained.

Riley knew that marrying Liam automatically meant that she was royalty, too, but having someone actually refer to her as one was crazy.

“Your Majesties, would you like a beverage? Wine? Or champagne perhaps?” Dolores, the attendant Liam had been talking to earlier asked.

“Love?” Liam asked.

“Um, maybe just some water?” She asked quietly.

“Of course, Your Majesty. Prince Liam?”

“I’m fine, Dolores,” he smiled brightly at the older woman. “Maybe when we have our meals I’ll have a bit of scotch,” he added.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” she acquiesced as she poured Riley a glass of water.

“This is surreal,” she murmured, mostly to herself.

“Love, this is what you have to look forward to each time you travel,” he laughed. “With our busy schedules, it only seems right that we travel as comfortable as possible. After all, we don’t know when we’ll have a spare moment to ourselves again,” he said knowingly.

She nodded nervously, her hands fiddling about in her lap. That’s actually what was worrying her. What was life going to be like now that they were heading out of their Las Vegas and New York bubbles?

Liam leaned over, clasping his hands around hers and smiled. “You’re fine, love,” he murmured encouragingly. “Now that I have you held captive in an airplane . . . ” he trailed off, eyeing her a bit nervously.

“What?” She asked; worry once again coursed through her body.

“Are you ready to talk about what you’ve signed up for?” He shot her a nervous smile. He looked as if he were waiting for her to jump ship . . . or in this case, plane . . . any second.

She eyed him suspiciously, taking a large gulp of her cold water. “You act as if I just signed up to go to war or something,” she chuckled anxiously. “I know you don’t want to scare me, Liam, but I think I can handle whatever they’re going to throw my way,” she said. Think being the operative word. She talked a good game and tried her best to calm the quaking nerves inside of her, but in truth, she was absolutely petrified. She had no clue how to be a princess . . . let alone a queen when that time inevitably arrived. How on earth was she going to manage it all while still getting to know her new husband?

“I don’t mean to sound so cryptic,” he explained apologetically. “I suppose I just wanted to prepare you for what might happen when we arrive,” he said vaguely.

“Are you expecting a grand welcome?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Well, possibly,” he admitted.

Her eyebrow arched a bit higher. “Oh,” she said nervously.

“To be quite honest, I’m not sure what to expect.” He ran his hand nervously over the back of his neck, and looked at her bashfully. “Our early arrival does buy us some time as I mentioned, but I’m honestly not too sure what the Cordonian people have been told. I’m not sure if they’ve publically announced the end of my engagement to Olivia,” he said uncertainly. “In fact, I’m not sure if they even announced that we’ve gotten married.”

“And if they have?” Riley asked.

“If they have, then you can expect the press to be hounding us until they get a printable story,” he sighed. “It’s the nature of the press, love. They have a hunger for a scandal . . . the more prominent the person, the more desirable the story,” he said glumly.

“And being the heir to the Cordonian throne, any story about you would be explosive,” Riley said, understanding where he was going with his explanation. The press wouldn’t let the story rest until they had every single detail about the end of his engagement to Olivia and their subsequent marriage in Vegas. They were in for one hell of a welcome if that were the case. She shook her head hesitantly. The idea of being hounded by the press wasn’t something she was particularly looking forward to. She had never paid attention to those sordid, trashy tabloids back home. She had always thought that it was grossly negligent to publish half-facts and over-exaggerations. This was the conversation that she had been worried about. Up to this point, everything had been a vague and distant idea that she had formulated inside of her head, but as Cordonia loomed closer and closer in front of them, at some point they’d have to discuss the elephant in the room, and apparently, Liam had decided that “some point” was right then and there.

“I wish I could say that this will be easy, love . . . but it won’t. I wish I could take the burden of the scrutiny of the press and the people and my family away so that you would never have to endure a single unpleasant moment. But having lived this life in the limelight for as long as I have . . . I know that many will have . . . reservations,” he explained hesitantly.

“Reservations?” She asked, slightly confused.

“They may publish some untrue things about you . . . they may suspect we got pregnant out of wedlock, hence the quickie marriage . . . they may even publish some nasty, untrue remarks about your friends and family . . .” he trailed off.

She winced a little. She had never really had a thick skin growing up. She had always been sensitive, and she didn’t like to be teased or taunted. The idea of having a whole nation scrutinize her every move, made her physically ill. The idea of having someone critique how she acted, what she wore, who she spent time with . . . it all felt too much. But to have that extend to her family and friends? She couldn’t imagine dealing with that on top of everything else.

Liam continued. “Olivia was a well-liked Duchess, and although the marriage was arranged, I’d imagine that many may not take kindly to the broken engagement . . . and our subsequent union,” he reasoned.

“Like Bertrand,” she arched a questioning eyebrow.

“Yes, like Bertrand. Some of the people of Cordonia are traditionalists. They may not be so welcoming to the fact that I have married someone not of the country. Not of Europe for that matter,” he explained. “But I have no doubt that once they get to know you . . . the you I fell in love with . . . all of their reservations will disappear,” he said optimistically.

“I hope so,” she said meekly. “I know it’s going to be tough . . . I just don’t want people to hate me, you know?”

“They won’t hate you, love,” he chuckled. “How would they hate the most amazing girl I’ve ever met?”

Riley sighed, leaning closer into him. “You were engaged, Liam. To a woman you have had a friendship with for most of your life. Are you telling me that she’ll warmly open her arms and welcome me to the palace?”

Liam grimaced in reply. “Well, obviously not. Olivia will prove to be a difficulty. Of that, I’m quite sure.”

“And your parents?” Riley added. “You got into quite the tiff with your father before we left.”

“As did you,” he reminded her. “My father and stepmother will come around. Once they realize that Cordonia’s future will not be in any jeopardy and that the monarchy will continue, they will warm to the idea of our marriage. It will take time, love.”

She nodded. She sucked in a long breath. She needed to be strong. As long as she had Liam by her side, she knew they’d be able to overcome whatever difficulties that were headed their way.

“We’re going to get through all of this together, Riley. I will never forget how much you’re giving up for me . . . for us,” he said passionately.

She leaned in for a soft kiss. Liam deepened the kiss before pulling himself away. “I have such a hard time controlling myself around you,” he said breathily.

“Let me distract you. Tell me about Cordonia. Not about the press or the bad stuff we might encounter,” she shook her head. “If I’m moving to a brand new country, I should know everything there is about it. The internet wasn’t too helpful. I guess it’s so small that not a lot of people actually know a whole lot about it,” she frowned.

He nodded. “It is small, but I assure you it has a rich history. A history that you and I are now a part of,” he smiled. “I’ll happily answer any questions you’d like about Cordonia, but I think that the best way to get to know our beautiful country is to experience it first hand in person,” he said.

“I’m looking forward to seeing everything,” she agreed. After a brief moment, she asked another question. “So, can I get a job when we get there? Or is that sort of not allowed. I just don’t want people thinking I’m some sort of gold-digger. Your friends already accused me of being a crown-chaser, and I don’t want people thinking that I don’t want to work . . . because I kind of do? I mean, I don’t really know what I could do considering I have a degree in Biology . . . and I’m a medical school drop out . . . but there has to be something right?” she rambled out

Liam stared at her as if she had three heads. She supposed it was a silly question. Did royalty work? She tried to think back on the lives of various royal figures - did Princess Diana have a job? What about Princess Eugenie? How about Duchess Kate? Surely an independent woman such as Duchess Megan Markle kept a job? She frowned, she was being ridiculous. Of course they didn’t have jobs. They were too busy jet setting alongside their husbands. She frowned at the thought. She had never seen herself as being a woman who relied on a man to do all of the hard work. She hadn’t liked when Liam’s friends had thought of her as being a crown-chaser, and she certainly didn’t want the rest of the public thinking the same thing. Shouldn’t she be able to prove that she’s way more than just some woman that Liam met in Las Vegas? She wanted to contribute in someway . . . even if she didn’t know exactly how she could contribute.

“You don’t have to work, love. I told you that. You will want for nothing the moment you set foot inside the palace,” he assured her.

“That’s such a strange concept,” she frowned. “Not working . . .I mean, I went to college, got my degree, held quite a few jobs over the years, and now I just . . . do nothing?” she pursed her lips. “I don’t want people to think that I married you for anything other than love,” she said softly.

“Being Queen is a job in itself Riley,” he explained. “You’ll be expected to plan social functions, attend political meetings, coordinate various social programs, meet with different international figures . . . although the compensation process might be quite different than what you’re used to, you will very much have a job in Cordonia,” He rationalized.

She nodded, although she still had a hard time wrapping her head around the whole concept. “So the whole social functions thing . . . is that like party planning?”

“Oh, love. It is far more than just a party. Why don’t I give you a brief history of Cordonia and some perspective on the monarchy and perhaps then you’ll understand a bit more about how important the social season is to the Cordonian people?”

She nodded eagerly, sitting up in her chair. “I’d like that a lot actually. I feel like I’m jumping out of a plane without a parachute when it comes to knowing anything about Cordonia. I really don’t want my first impression with your family to be me clueless about the country I’m now a resident of,” she gave a nervous chuckle.

A few hours later, Liam had recounted a not-so-brief history of everything about Cordonia. Riley had no idea how Liam was able to remember all of it. She guessed having grown up there gave him an upper hand, but still. He was able to recount every single monarch and every single duchy that. He could even rattle off population stats that all sounded like a bunch of mumble jumble to her.

“Lords and Ladies . . . palaces . . . waltzes . . . balls . . . court . . . my head is spinning, Liam,” she frowned. She needed some aspirin, or maybe a stiff drink. She hadn’t expected her Cordonia 101 class with Liam to be easy, but she had hoped that she’d be able to at least glean some information to help her survive her first few days there. Instead, she felt like she had nothing but information overload. She couldn’t tell you who anyone was or what city was what because all of the names and places started to merge with one another after a while.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’re doing remarkably well,” he said encouragingly. “Hopefully some of the notes you took will help,” he smiled.

Yes, she had taken notes, but she had no clue what was important and what wasn’t. She hadn’t even known Cordonia even existed before meeting Liam. Now, she suddenly needed to know everything there was to know about the tiny country. How on earth was she going to remember everything?

“Trust me, love. In time, all of this information will become second nature,” Liam beamed at her.

She snorted. She didn’t want to tell him that she was more of a math and sciences sort of girl as opposed to being a history buff. She couldn’t imagine a time when all of these Cordonian factoids would become second nature.

“Here. Let’s test some of your knowledge now. I’ll give you an easy one,” he said excitedly. “What is the capital of Cordonia?” Liam asked expectedly.

Riley licked her lips nervously. Her eyes scanned the notes in front of her, but she could barely make out half of her short hand. She paused, uncertainly. “Valtoria,” she half-asked.

“Correct,” he smiled at her proudly as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her hand. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ll have Cordonian culture down in no time.”

She smiled tightly in response. She hoped he was right. She had been taking notes off and on during their discussion, but she didn’t really know how it would help her if she got ambushed by the press. It’s not like she could pull out a set of flash cards when she was getting interviewed. She didn’t think that’d earn her any brownie points with the Cordonian public.

Liam continued to quiz her on questions during the last few hours of the flight, and Riley admittedly was starting to remember some of the major things that Liam had taught her, but she still felt that all of the information she had just gained were whirling inside of her head like a tornado. She had never wanted to excel at something so much in her life. She felt like she was back in school, trying to cram in as much information as possible. She just hoped it stuck.

“What if I mess up?” She asked worriedly. “It took me years to even learn all the capitols of the fifty states,” she frowned. “And even then I still managed to goof up every now and then,” she said, her voice laced with a bit of panic.

“Riley, love, you’re a natural at this. You may not be Cordonian by birth, but we will have you be a star pupil on Cordonian history in no time,” he said encouragingly. “Like I said, you’re already doing so well.”

“I don’t know how I’ll remember all of this,” she said faintly. “There’s a reason why I went to medical school. Liberal arts wasn’t exactly my strong suit,” she joked.

“I’ll be there to guide you, and my friends, once they get to know you, will be more than happy to provide you with some help along the way. I happen to know that Bertrand majored in history at our university,” he said. “I’d be happy to talk to him about perhaps giving you some private lessons on Cordonian culture,” he offered. “He’d actually be well-suited to help you adjust to court life.”

“Bertrand . . . yeah, I don’t think he’ll be very much inclined to help me considering he wanted to have our marriage annulled,” she sighed. “He also seemed to think that I would be the demise of Cordonia.”

“Well, yes, remember, Bertrand is a traditionalist. His duty to country comes before all else. But regardless, he’s still my friend, and as such, he’ll want me to be happy. If I ask him to help you adjust to court life, he will do it. Begrudgingly at first, but after he sees how well suited you are as my wife, he’ll come around.”

Riley sighed. What an optimist. As much as she wanted to believe that Bertrand would help her, she believed that he’d probably eagerly wait for the moment for her to fall flat on her face. She was about to ask Liam a few more questions about Cordonia when she felt a slight rumble under her feet. She felt the plane begin to descend, and looked at Liam a bit concerned. “What was that?” She asked in alarm.

“We’re getting closer,” he explained as his eyes peered out the window. “It looks like we’re descending a bit to prepare for landing,” he reasoned. His eyes grew a bit brighter as he stared out the window. “Well, Mrs. Rys . . . if you look out to your left you’ll catch your first glimpse of your new home,” Liam beamed proudly.

Riley leaned against the window, her eyes gazing out into the distance below her. She could just make out the aerial view of the country. A million thoughts ran through her mind. They were here. They were finally here. Riley gazed out at the shimmering blue ocean below her. Cordonia’s coastline was breathtaking. The little information she found on Google did nothing to prepare her for the sheer beauty of the country below her.

She turned to Liam in awe, and he greeted her gaze with a beaming smile. All it took for her worries to wane was a single look at Liam. She knew this move would be hard, and she knew that she would be faced with a lot of scrutiny, and although she still had reservations about what would be like as an outsider, she knew that as long as Liam stood by her side, she’d somehow manage to pull through all of this.

“That’s our country,” he said, leaning over her, pressing a soft kiss on the temple of her forehead.

“Our?” She whispered, still a bit overwhelmed about the reality of finally being in Cordonia. She turned to face him, his eyes fixed on her in admiration.

“Yes, love. The moment you said yes . . . the moment you signed those papers . . . this became all of yours,” he said proudly.

#liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #trr #trr fanfic #trr fic #choices trr #choices fanfiction #fanfic #the royal romance #theroyalromance #the royal romance fan fic

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lurafita · 5 years

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Peter/Avengers, dub/con, captivity, Part 4

TAGGING PEOPLE STILL ISN’T WORKING!

Support couldn’t give me an answer to my problem. Though they said they would send me a link with a tool kinda thing, that I would have to install, and maybe that might help, then. Havn’t gotten it yet, but they said it might take a few days to get the file packed, or something. I have no clue about these things. Wish I had a Tony Stark in real life I could go bother with this.

Anyway, I would like to ask everyone to reblog this post, if you don’t mind, so that hopefully everyone who asked to be tagged for future parts will be able to find this. Thanks!

Read previous parts here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Once again, heed the tags below the cut.

kidnapping, dub/con, captivity, chains, bondage, obsessive Avengers, Peter/Everyone, darkly soft Avengers (in the sense that they hold Peter captive, but only want to love and protect him), non-powered Peter, dark-ish Avengers, 18+ Peter, Clint is not married and has no kids, Tony is not in a relationship with Pepper.

Part 4

Setting things up was almost too easy.

The Avengers floors in the tower were spread over four stories.

One floor made up an intricate and wide indoor training gym, with special equipment. The one above that was dedicated to lab work, and had all the instruments any scientists heart could ever desire.

Then came the common floor, which was by far, the biggest.

In the beginning, Tony had set it up so that every Avenger would have their own, private floor.

But everyone had quickly migrated to the completely functional guest rooms (that all came with en-suite bathrooms) on the common floor. There was more than enough room for everyone, and the team mates liked being close to each other, while still having some privacy in their own rooms.

Peter's room, of course, had also always been on the common floor.

The parameters for Friday's new protocol were easy to code into her mainframe. As was the math to calculate the length of the chain, and the best place to anchor it to, so that Peter would still be able to roam the whole of the common floor freely, but unable to reach the elevator.

Tony and Bruce would, of course, take Peter to their labs with them, if he wished for it. A fitting chain would be placed there as well. Things were a bit different for the gym. They suspected that Peter would want to keep up his ballet practices with Natasha (once he got used to his new circumstances a bit, they had no delusions that the first few days would be difficult for everyone). However, he clearly couldn't be chained down for those. So there would be no chains there.

And really, the chains weren't actually necessary. With Friday's updated protocols, which disallowed Peter the use of the elevators (which were the only way to access the Avenger floors), unless one of the Avengers was with him, or in case of an immediate emergency; as well as the fact that each and every one of them would be able to easily restrain Peter if it came to it, there was honestly no need to put a shackle on the younger man.

Thinking back, Tony didn't even know who had suggested it in the first place, but once the image was there...

They wanted it.

They wanted the visible, physical, undeniable proof, that Peter wouldn't leave them.

Couldn't leave them.

They wanted to be able to touch the chain, run their hands over the links, hear the sound it would make every time the brunette moved.

Tony took great pleasure in making it. He was not going to allow some crude, mass manufactured, heavy dark chain to touch his Sweetheart's soft skin. No. The chain he was making was a gold aluminum alloy, just like his armor. Strong, but light, and a glittering gold and red color. The cuff that would rest around Peter's ankle was padded with the softest material Tony could find, ensuring that neither the delicate skin, nor bones would get damaged from wearing it over a long period of time.

Feeling inspired, the billionaire also made some handcuffs out of the same metal and soft padding, as well as some other things that almost had him come in his pants, from simply imagining using them on Peter. Not right away, of course, he didn't want to spook his Sweetheart. But once things had progressed a little, when Peter had learned to accept (and maybe reciprocate) their love, these things would be there, and Tony and the others would use them to make his Sweetheart feel more pleasure than he ever had before.

When Peter graduated from University, Tony had finished making all the restraints they would need (and want). To celebrate Peter's graduation, Tony invited everyone (the team, Peter's aunt, and his two friends) to the most expensive restaurant in the city. Between the lighthearted teasing and sincere praise of everyone, Peter was blushing the whole evening.

Such a pretty little thing.

During the next days, as his departure to Australia drew ever nearer, Peter was a bundle of nervous energy. Fretting about preparations for his trip, getting everything in order, trying to spend time with Ned and MJ, his aunt and the Avengers, before he wouldn't see them for quite a while.

The day before his plane would depart, just as they had planned, the Avengers again invited everyone out, this time to a fancy, discreet place that served brunch. The food was good and everyone had a great time. At the end, Ned, Michelle and May Parker thanked the Avengers for the invitation, and then all hugged Peter tightly (May with tears in her eyes) and wished him all the luck in the world on his trip.

Peter likewise had to wipe some moisture out of his eyes after the heartfelt goodbyes.

Back at the tower, Bruce started the final stage of their plan.

“Peter? Professor Stoddard gave you a list of all the recommended shots for Australia, right?”

The younger man grinned. “Yep. Got them all covered. On a side note, I really hate needles.”

The admission got a small chuckle out of everyone, as well as a little smile from Bruce.

“Well, if you can grit your teeth through one more, I have mixed up something in the lab that will help your body to better adapt to the Australian climate.”

Peter gave him a look between surprised and moved.

“Aw, thank you, Bruce. You really didn't have to.”

But the doctor shook his head, and placed an arm around the slightly smaller man, guiding him to the elevator, the dark, knowing eyes of the other Avengers on their backs.

“Nonsense. I think we all would feel a lot better, knowing that you are less likely to collapse from heatstroke the minute you get off the plane. Come. It's in my lab.”

Ten minutes later, the elevator doors opened back up, showing Bruce carrying an unconscious Peter in his arms.

Steve stepped forward immediately, offering to take Peter from him.

“You made sure the sedative isn't harmful?”

Bruce would take offense, but he knew that the super soldier was simply worried and anxious for their precious one.

“I've tested it multiple times. He will sleep soundly for approximately the next nine hours.”

With Peter carefully cradled in his arms, Steve led the small procession to the younger man's room, where he laid him gently into his bed.

Natasha came forward and lovingly carded her fingers through the always messy, brown curls, swiping away a stray lock from his eyes. Clint was already in the process of removing the sleeping man's shoes, and Bucky, with sure but soft hands, opened Peter's jeans and tenderly stripped them off.

Sam was collecting the younger man's tablet, phone and laptop. They would be kept secure and out of Peter's reach, until they could be sure that their love wouldn't try to contact anyone about his captivity.

Tony and Thor entered the room then, carrying the long, gold and red chain between them.

Clint huffed at the sight. “I'm still not happy that my Darling will be wearing your color scheme all the time.”

Tony just smirked at him. “What did you want me to paint the chain with? Purple? No chance.”

Then he took the cuff that was linked to the chain, and approached the bed. He sat down at Peter's naked feet (Bucky had quickly traded the jeans for a soft pair of pajama bottoms, not wanting his Doll to get cold during the night, in only his boxers)

Tony took a moment to just admire the sleeping form of the man that held all their hearts in his hands. He looked so peaceful. He moved his hand to the ankle that laid against his thigh. Such soft skin. He stroked over it lightly. So delicate. He could wrap his whole hand around the appendage without problem.

“We were right. Peter isn't made for the jungle. It would be too rough on him. We can't let him go. He needs us.”

He didn't need to look up to see the agreement in the others eyes, and without further delay, he closed the cuff around the pale flesh.

“The chain will have to come off for changing clothes and taking baths, so there is a fingerprint scanner here” He pointed it out for the others “programmed to recognize our thumb prints. You need to press your thumb to it for five seconds, before it comes off, so there should be no accidental release. We will all need to watch our steps from now on, so that we don't trip over the chain.”

Everyone nodded.

Steve spoke next.

“Remember that Peter won't be too happy with us during the next few days. Maybe longer. He won't understand this, and he will like it even less. The first week will likely be the most frustrating for all of us, but I won't tolerate anyone taking it out on him.”

He was met with scowls.

“No one here would ever hurt him.” Sam had crossed his arms over his chest.

“It will take time, but Lastashka will come around.” Natasha continued to stroke his hair.

“Patience and love. Just like we talked about. He will accept it, one day.” Bucky's voice was confident and steady.

“It is rare that all of us are needed for a mission, so there is always going to be at least one of us here with him. This should help him to get used to it.” Bruce added.

“I will have to attend matters at Asgard occasionally, but I doubt it will take more than a day at a time. It is important that we show him that we will always be there for him, and take care of his needs.”

Tony stroked over the padded shackle once more, before standing up and covering the still unconscious Peter with the warm blanket.

“Friday, initiate Protocol: Caged Bird.”

The first few days were difficult, but it was nothing they hadn’t expected.

Peter was mostly confused. He didn’t understand why his friends were doing what they were doing. He didn’t understand that their feelings for him exceeded friendship by a mile. He didn’t understand that keeping him locked up, was for his own good.

He tried reasoning with them, tried convincing them that nothing would happen to him in Australia, or any other expedition he might take part in in the future. (He was very upset about having missed his flight. At the sight of tears gathering in his eyes, Steve had climbed into bed with him and cuddled the unwilling college graduate for about an hour)

After that Peter had got it in his head that the team had been hypnotized or otherwise manipulated by some kind of villain. (”This isn’t right. You know it isn’t. Someone is making you act this way. You have to fight this.”) But, of course, it was to no avail.

They had expected him to be angry at them, to scream and curse and wish them to hell (though he never did). And while he was clearly very unhappy about the situation, it wasn’t his anger that cut into the Avengers. It was his sadness.

The team did their best to help Peter through the ordeal, help him get used to things. Affectionate touches were freely given and numerous, no matter how reluctantly they were received.

They were vigilant about not giving him time or opportunity to get lost in negative emotions. Took care that he always ate and drank enough, would change the shackle from one ankle to the other every day, and then spent a few minutes to massage the joint, to ward off any discomfort.

Due to the shackle and chain needing to be taken off, in order for Peter to change his bottoms, or shower, someone was always in the room with him during that time. The lack of privacy and his own shyness about the others seeing him naked like this, was possibly the most challenging hurdle for Peter to overcome.

It took two weeks, for Peter to stop flinching away from their touches, and then another four days until he didn’t automatically stiffen any more, when one of them hugged him. His pleas to be let go tapered off after roughly the first month into his captivity.

When Clint actually managed to make Peter laugh one day, things changed again.

With the younger man’s slowly growing acceptance of his non-negotiable presence in the tower, the team grew bolder in their displays of affection.

Lips soon found their way onto the soft skin, hands alone no longer enough. Necklines were pulled lower, exposing more of the delicate neck and shoulder bones, then covering the light skin in love bites and hickeys.

Shirts were rolled up to gain access to stomach and chest. to stroke and caress, to lick and kiss. Soft tickles to the sides of the sensitive belly, light pinches and bites to the pink nipples.

Hands found their ways under the soft pants and boxers Peter wore, squeezing his buttocks, fingers ghosting over the rim, stroking up and down the length of his penis.

The younger man would tell them to stop, tried to shove them away, or wriggle out of their grasps, at first, but he was never successful. It was like a switch had been pulled in the Avengers heads. Knowing that Peter couldn’t get away from them, couldn’t run, couldn’t leave, allowed them more and more freedom to express their love.

They wanted to kiss him. Caress him. Feel him. Taste him. They wanted to make him feel good. Make him experience all the pleasure they could. Wanted to hear him moan, and gasp, and writher. They wanted to hear their name on his lips when he came. And then they wanted to do it all over again.

Peter discovered that, despite the chain that already shackled him to their home, the Avengers liked to restrain him even further, whenever things got more intimate.

Bucky and Steve both liked to use their superhuman strength. Steve would gather the thin wrists in one of his big hands, and hold them to whatever surface Peter happened to be on, before descending on the slighter body.

Bucky was the same, just that he exclusively used his metal arm to trap Peter’s hands with, so that his flesh one would be able to feel the others skin beneath him.

Sam and Clint almost always used the padded handcuffs that Tony had made, to bind Peter’s arms behind his back. Sam liked for Peter to straddle him like this, while he played with his body. Clint preferred to lay the younger man down on the closest soft surface, be that the couch in the living room, or whoever’s bed was nearest, and have his wicked way with him.

Natasha usually took Peter to her bedroom, where she used silk shawls and other soft ties to secure him to her bed. (”Tying someone down can have two implications, Lastashka. The most obvious one is that it makes you unable to resist and gives me complete control. The other reason is that it’s not about reciprocation. Being bound forces you to accept the pleasure that I give you, to let me take care of you, let me make you feel good and worship your body like it should be worshiped. If you wonder which one of those implications comes into play here, it’s actually both. I like being in control, Peter, but I also like making you feel good. Just let me love you.”)

Most surprising was probably Bruce’s fondness for Japanese bondage. The older scientist loved to put Peter in elaborate and complicated bindings (with special ropes that wouldn’t burn or shave at the delicate skin, of course). He would patiently and carefully wrestle the younger man into compliance, and then skillfully tie him up. The only reason the bondage never included a gag, Peter came to realize, was that Bruce would stop his work every few minutes, to kiss him tenderly on the lips, the cheeks, and his forehead. Sometimes they didn’t even have sex when Bruce tied him up, though the man always made Peter come.

Thor was probably the odd one out, as he didn’t have a specific method he used to restrain his lover. Sometimes he would use a soft rope, other times he closed the padded handcuffs around Peter’s wrists, and other times still the god of thunder would simply clamp his own, big hands around the slim body and manhandle him however he wanted to. One day Thor had stripped his love, pinned him down on his bed with one hand, and with the other, carefully, hesitantly, but full of anticipation, laid his hammer onto the youngers chest. Mjölnir wasn’t heavy in the sense that it crushed Peter, but it was completely impossible for the younger man to move out from under it. All he could do was claw at the bedding and move his legs to the almost overwhelming pleasure, as the Asgardian took him again and again.

Tony, even though he had been the one to design and make the handcuffs and various other restrains the team used on Peter, would usually direct one or more of the empty Iron Man armors to hold his Sweetheart in position. He loved watching as Peter ineffectually writhed against the unyielding hold of something he had created, while he kneeled before his captive, using the skill learned from years of being New York’s number one playboy, to suck him off. He always made Peter orgasm once, before he entered him. It was such a heady feeling, such a turn on, to see Peter experience a second release, while the billionaire himself was buried deep inside his warmth.

They made sure not to overwhelm Peter too much. He couldn’t be taken by everyone, everyday. And really, no one had a problem with this. After all, it wasn’t purely about sex. They loved Peter, and they loved making love to Peter, but fucking for hours on end was not the only way that physical attraction and devotion could be expressed.

Cuddling during movie nights, or taking a bath together, having him sit between their legs and leaning back into their chest while he was reading a book, were all things that were high on everyone’s list for making Peter feel special and loved.

Whenever it wasn’t Steve himself to share this kind of intimacy with his Honey, he liked to draw the scene before him. His sketchbook was full of pages upon pages of Peter being cherished by one of his team mates. (He always drew the chain, and sometimes the handcuffs, as well. The different restraints had become as much of a symbol for their love, as everything else had)

Three and a half months into Peter’s captivity, everyone was gathered in the living room, watching a movie. Peter was lying with his head in Natasha’s lap, the former Assassin lovingly stroking her hand through his hair. His legs were laid over Sam’s lap, with the man softly kneading his calves. The rest of the Avengers had spread out over the other couches and chairs in the room, basking in the peaceful atmosphere that knowing Peter was close by, always brought to them.

“Do you hate us?”

Natasha’s quiet question cut through the room like a knife, and Peter could see every one of the Avengers stiffen, as they waited for him to answer. He inhaled deeply.

“...No. I don’t hate you. I don’t like being locked up, I’m not always too happy about all the restraints, I miss being able to run around outside, jump from building to building, or just take a walk. I still don’t understand why you are doing all this,... But I don’t hate you.”

They all slumped a little in relief, Sam affectionately squeezed the ankle without the shackle, and Natasha continued to stroke through Peter’s hair.

“No more parkour for you, Doll. It’s too dangerous.” Came Bucky’s rumble to the brunettes right, and he could see the others nod their heads in agreement to this. He sighed.

“But we can talk about a few outings in the future.”

Natasha and Sam kept him from sitting up, but Peter still looked at Tony with wide, excited eyes.

“Really?”

The billionaire nodded. “If you agree to wearing a tracker, maybe an anklet. And at least one of us has to be with you. Possibly a few more rules that we will decide on then. But yes, really.”

Seeing the reluctant agreement to that in everyone’s eyes, Peter smiled widely. It wouldn’t happen in the next few days, he knew. Maybe not even for another month or more. But he would get to go outside again.

One day.

______________________________________________________________

That’s it folks.

As you can probably tell, I’m not very good with writing smut. (In fact, I didn’t really, explicitely, write any... sorry)

Which is why, if anyone is interested / wants to do it, I would not at all be opposed if someone wrote additional parts to this story.

The only thing I ask, is that you keep things nice. No degradation, humiliation or pain play, please. (Pain play would include things like spanking and orgasm denial. Orgasm delay is fine, but outright denial can not only be considerably painful, but might also have real, physical consequences.)

I don’t mean any offense if those are some of your personal kinks or likes, but I myself don’t enjoy those very much (or at all), and I don’t think they would fit into the mind frame of the story, or the Avengers.

299 notes · View notes

namjoonchronicles · 5 years

Text

flutter | yg

↳ NOTES flutter /ˈflʌtə/ noun, a state or sensation of tremulous excitement, informal•british a small bet.

↳ GENRE fluff, domestic af

↳ WORDS 5.1k

↳ SUMMARY –Future is scary. The possibilities and vast chances to take. A recent letter pivots your family to an emotional frenzy and with the impending stress coming up, your husband does all he can to be supportive and push you through. And it wasn’t the only thing he pushed in you. But this time, he’s up for the transition as well, kind of?

↳ WARNING horrible fluffy shit I hadn’t been able to write for awhile, yoongi plays piano (yes, that’s a warning), skinship (pfft, wtf is wrong with me), lots of touching domestic thingy, excessive consumption of coffee, tub scenes (smacks lips), sweaty yoongi (are you kidding me, it deserves its own warning fk you)

↳ NAMJOONCHRONICLES’ HONORARY TAG LIST @kai-tashi @joon94net @yourlocalalien @snugglemejeon @septemberalien @yoongiseesaw

↳ SPECIAL THANKS TO @fangirlaholicxx my sunshine~ and a gift to @majestikblue

↳ SONG joe hisaishi’s ‘merry go round of life’

As the rain begins to drizzle, you heard a piano being played so beautifully, it stirred you awake with a smile on your face. Sweeping your legs off the mattress, no bed frames, you pushed the door open and tattled down the hallway. Slowly, it reveals your husband's gorgeous shoulder frame and his fingers dancing on the keys, his head swaying to the sound. You smiled wider now that you recognize the tune from long time ago. And how it fits the feeling of being and falling in love with him. The fact that he wanted to play this particular song gave your heart the familiar flutter of meeting him for the first time, underneath that bridge by the blossoming tree. How angelic he looked, how his every move made you shudder, just by standing there. And not even a word was exchanged yet.

In small, calculated steps you peeped by the corner of his eyes as he plays, not wanting to startle him. A small smile is formed on the prettiest lips you've ever seen. Your eyes were cast on the view of his wedding band, there gliding on the keys. He scooted over for you to take the seat and you leaned your head on his shoulder. The notes are coming to an end. Around you are opened large boxes, stacks of old newspapers, tapes and ropes. The walls are empty and the carpets are gone. All the things that used to be there, no longer. He links his head atop of yours. Long after the last note is played, and sustained, only the loudest silence remains. But a breathtaking silence. The kind that leaves you enveloped in a dreamy state, and in a trance as the notes linger in the back of your mind. He lifts his fingers off the keys and slid them around your shoulders.

"Thought that it would be nice to play the song that made you recognize me on our last day here," he whispered against your hair and pressing his lips right after.

"It's not our last day, it's the piano's last day here...we need to head back to return the house keys later," you thwarted, lifting your chin up to kiss him properly on the lips. Yoongi's lips twitch into a smile, and his hand rode down your spine, caressing you warmly.

Staring at the empty walls, nails and photo frames brought down to lean against the wall suddenly make you feel burdened with emotions you had been suppressing all this while. But still, it is not enough to let you shed tears.

A plate of biscuits and black coffee, set on the floor, for a simple breakfast to start the day. In the chaotic week, the twins are sent to Yoongi's village where his mom could take care of them. So they would video-call in the morning to see how things are. The younger of the two was really excited to seeing and living in a new space. Although the same could not be said for the first born who is, as Yoongi would say, rather rigid like you are. This change was long over-due and it takes time for you to actually take the fact in. You had grown fond of the place and removing everything that you had taken time to select and put up was a sore spot. Thankfully, Yoongi's high adaptability helped you get settled in real quick.

"The boys wanted to talk to you," you passed the phone to him as he hurried to shove the whole biscuit into his mouth and chewed. He gulps, sitting on the floor with one knee propped up. He clawed the air, waiting for the coffee you were drinking from. The boys are already asking the questions, such as, 'When are you coming', 'What is taking so long' and several other unrelated things. All the mugs are boxed away and already in the new apartment so you had to share. When he finally gets his fix, Yoongi frowned at the screen where the boys were cackling to see their father in such incomprehensible state.

"Alright, Min Gyeonghan and Min Gyeongnam. What's good guys?" Yoongi scrunched his face but kept his eyes glued on the screen, swallowing the dry cookies. The sight made you smile in content.

The boys said that they found a wild squirrel a few days ago, and helped grandmother tie up haystacks, which was a nice transition considering the two had been raised largely in cities. You welcomed the transformation but Yoongi was like, "What about piano? Have you been practicing? Go fishing next time...when I'm around."

At seven years old, Han in particular, showed incredible piano skill with accurate emotional compensation and was fond of playing by ear. However, Nam was excellent in sight reading musical scores while quite not able to implore the same gift into his playing. So as a result, Nam usually gets more practicing hours than Han does. This trip back to the village was something Nam really enjoys. Something he can put his hands on and do well. He recently helped build a bird house for a sparrow. It seems that the two boys are taking all of the talented Min genes.

"So, mom and I are going to finish packing up today, and we're going to visit the new house later, would you like us to call you then? So you could see?" Yoongi asked and the boys nodded enthusiastically.

The call ended in gummy smiles from both sides.

You pour another mug of black coffee before Yoongi stops you midway. "That's enough coffee for you, today, if you drink too much, you won't be able to sleep," Yoongi takes the mug away and chugs it down without pausing in between. You eyed at the good coffee you just made sadly, settling in Yoongi's stomach instead of yours. With the breakfast finished and the children updated, Yoongi continued packing, placing the vase, buffered with crumpled newspapers and when it's full, you placed a fragile tape on them. You threw the marker pen at Yoongi, he caught it in one hand and scribbled, 'Vases & Decor'. The task didn't end there, Yoongi needed to disassemble the book rack in the study room. So he is now seated on the floor, unscrewing the bolts and you collect all the screws, placing it in a transparent small zipper bag labeled as 'book rack #1'. The curtains were the last thing you took off because you didn't want your windows to be spied on while you were still there. Yoongi is on top of the ladder, taking the curtain holder off while you wait underneath to fetch the fabric.

"There's so much dust on it," you commented.

"That's why I told you to get the vacuum with a longer nozzle but you insisted to have the cordless one, not realizing your hand is too short for it to reach up here," Yoongi complained. "I didn't think it through," you scratched your head as he climbed down. "We need a shower," he smirked and clicked his tongue.

"W-we? What do you mean we..."

He meant we.

Folded card boards. Stacked pile of books and bags of trash. Half-wrapped vase and nail holes in the wall where picture frames used to hang. Left abandoned.

Opened bathroom door. Two soaked bodies in the tub. You leaned your head back on Yoongi's chest, skin to skin, basking in the filled tub, enjoying the silence. Yoongi had his eyes shut, arms resting along the brims.

"It's been awhile since we done this, isn't it?" "Quite awhile. I think ever since the boys came."

You let out a relieved sigh. What a relief to have his mother taking care of them until you and Yoongi successfully packed your belongings to move to the new neighborhood. What a relief it is to have a hand to hold when things as scary as this happens. What a relief it is to have Yoongi.

The world doesn't seem so lonely anymore. But as the time dragged on, you begin to wonder if it was a good decision knowing how many changes will take place. Sure Yoongi had been on board with anything you'd propose after a careful thought, and you know he's not the kind to agree on things that are bleak, knowing that the twins will be brought along on the ride, but standing at a cross road between two important paths that doesn't allow you to remain as you were, is unspeakably horrifying. With that thought, your fragile strength wavered like a weathered flag by the sea.

"What if I wasn't as good as I thought I was," you blinked to the view of Yoongi's knee next to yours. Waters lapping as you dunk your hand into the water, linking together. He removes his arm from the brims and hugged your waist, pressing his lips on your shoulder. Your hands flew to the back of his hair, caressing them, before sliding them down the side of his cheek, guiding his lips on yours for a kiss. His wandering eyes flutters close against your cheek, the sound of his breathing in your ear. And what his lips was doing sending you to a complete trance. Just like he did with the piano. Like what he did with the piano.

"What if things turn out to become worser than it is, what will I do then?" you chuckled with watery eyes. Yoongi shook his head and buried his face into your nape instead of responding. "What kind of mother enrolls herself for a degree at this age," you continued. Yoongi didn't join you. He just held you closer and told you the most reassuring words ever, "We'll be okay. You, and the boys, we can do literally anything and everything."

"Are you going to be okay?" "I will be, if you are."

When the offer letter arrived in the mail, you were a concoction of feelings. Delighted, fearful, unsure and uncertain. A combination that was self-destructive on its own. Although it had always been your dream to further your studies, you're not 20 and single anymore. You were older, with financial commitments, an intuitive husband and two gorgeous sons. Pinned with self-induced guilt, you threw the letter, along with its envelope into the bin of your study room. That Yoongi found. A huge argument followed. Cold war was initiated, and sturdiness stringed along sending the boys in distress because they could sense what was happening but could not do anything. Yoongi wanted you to further your studies, because it was your dream. But you wanted to continue this life you've been living, as a mother, as a wife, as someone who has a regular job. To help with the financial demands and expenses. To aid Yoongi.

And to study meant, you'll be adding new debt. You'll be leaving Yoongi with the boys. You'll have to move closer to the university and that means Yoongi had to leave his music academy he pioneered. It meant he has to give up teaching a large class with older kids who were serious about music and trade that with a personal one-to-one class sessions at home with students he could find from the nearby neighborhood. That itself will cause a strain in the financial stance. Not to mention, a pinch in the money bag, as the new neighborhood are full of the musically talented, upper middle class families. The change in the community will expose the boys with unfamiliar upbringings and you hoped that you had given them enough strength, should that day happen. Yoongi wasn't afraid of all these minor things. He was not afraid of changes. As long as we live the way we have lived so far, there will be no bumps in the road we cannot conquer. His core strength was something you admired for so long.

After the shower, he asked if you would be up for making one last memory in this place, on this thin mattress, barely dressed. You scoffed in reply while he glued his lips on your neck, pulling you down with him.

The piano is transported into the moving truck, and the last box was in Yoongi's arm. You did the honor of locking up the apartment carefully. Two boxes were in the backseat of your car since it was fragile. With a mechanical click of the door, you cast a prayer on its view, "May everything goes well from this moment onward." To our new beginnings.

Yoongi is now seated in the driver's seat. But as he waits for you, he reaches for his Canon camera, looked through the view, and snapped a picture of you as you stood there, holding the knob, and looking up at the door you've opened and closed a thousand times, feeling a little nostalgic. He took the shot without telling you and a faint smile appeared on his lips. His sweater paws covering his knuckles makes him look softer than usual. You caught him already looking at you, leaning his chin on his hand that rests on top of the car roof.

"What..." you shyly stepped down the stairs and to the red car. "Nothing, you're just glowing," he blinked, starry-eyed.

You pressed your lips together and rolled your eyes at him, "Alright Romeo, drive, please."

He chuckles lightly and climbed into the car, grabbing the wheels and slammed the car door shut. The engine whirls alive and tires begin rotating, embarking a new journey, a new clean slate, blank canvas that's waiting ahead.

Upon arriving to the new location, located five hours away from your old apartment, Yoongi stops at the safeguard house to present the key card that allowed him to enter. After some simple instructions, he was taught to simply tap the key and the laser gates dissolve. He was already so astonished. You told him that they have two parking spots for each residence, so that was pretty neat. Easier to have the guests around. The apartment has spacious elevator and the flooring was marble.

"It definitely looks painful to keep," he mumbled. "Yeah," you sighed, staring at right while he stares at the left.

"Sir, where can we put the piano?" the man asked from behind you. "Right by the window there, please, thank you," he answered quickly, then he whispered in your ear, "We might need a bigger piano to make the space look fuller. White baby grand?"

White baby grand sounds perfect to be honest. At the mention of refurnishing, your heart swells at the thought of new, more up-to-date furniture and the wider choices you have but dissipates at the possible expenses that will send you to your early grave earlier. As if he heard your thoughts, Yoongi shot, "I've got savings, so don't you worry about that." One by one, boxes were being brought in, kitchen appliances one of the first to be unpacked because you two needed to eat. The coffee machines, the mugs and plates, the dish racks, the wine glasses, oven mittens and rugs. And then the mattresses. While you hammer the nails in to the wall, Yoongi used his screw fasteners to assemble the bed frames. Sweats beaded on his forehead, his drenched white shirt stuck on his skin as he moves from one post to another. He wipes the trickles down his chin with the back of his hand, drilling his eyes to one of the post and then the other.

"Sweetie?" He called for you. "Yeah?" "Can you come here for a bit?"

You didn't question more and leave your hammer behind to attend to your husband, now sweatier than you remembered. You placed yourself next to him and looked at the bed post like he did. Instantly, you picked up on what he thought.

"You're right, it should be on the other side, or we won't have space to walk," you commented. With that simple intervention, Yoongi had you lifting the bed post along with him. He kept asking if it was too heavy and you can stop if you want to, but you'll have to wait until his friend comes over. You said there's no reason to do that, you were impatient as is, and you can't wait to have the whole house come to full view. With the bed frames positioned in a new angle, Yoongi can continue his work easier. All that's left is to put the wooden slats on top and then mattress comes above it, then he can move to the twins room next. He'll leave you to choose what bed sheets you want. He checks how strong the frames are holding up and when he is satisfied, he placed the wooden slats and put the mattress over it. He went out the hallway to check up on you. And while you were nailing, he asked, "What should we have for lun--" he pauses and scowls at the wall clock, "I mean dinner."

But his sudden question caught you off guard and the nail slip from your index finger and thumb, just as the hammer comes. The nail graze you and a steady spot of blood consistently form on its opening. Yoongi took your thumb into his mouth while you hiss in pain. You hit his butt as he suckles on, his hip flinches comically. Eyes never leaving you. He grabbed the tissue from the side and have you pressing on the small wound. You can't even stay mad at him. A moment later, he was on his phone calling a diner for four rice servings, three side dishes and one main dish. You were busy checking if the nails he nailed in for you were strong enough to hold a picture frame. With your wounded hand, messily self-made bandage, you begin vacuuming the dust on the crevices , being a neat freak that you are. Yoongi's conversation was interrupted by the water boiler bubbling done and then the doorbell. Both of you looked at the door and then at each other. You were already marching forward to the doorway but Yoongi grabbed your wrist in a lazy hold as he ends the phone call with the diner.

When the door is opened, it reveals a slightly short stature man with huge grins. He introduces himself with a blinding smile, and two containers wrapped in a cloth.

"My wife and I heard that you guys just moved in so, here's a little welcoming gift from the both of us. My name is Park Jimin," he bit his smile, and gave a polite bow, "I live down the hall there," he pointed with his finger and leaning forward like an oversize child. It's hard to even picture him as someone's husband. But the wedding band is clearly worn, in addition with some other chrome rings, suggesting to Yoongi that Jimin, might be a quite fashionable man.

"Min Yoongi," he smiled back and placed his hand on the small of your back, "My wife."

"It's just the two of you?" Jimin asked out of curiosity, and being quite secretive with your personal details, you were taken aback by Yoongi's unprecedented honesty when he mentions that you have two twin boys. But appreciated when he didn't mention their names. Jimin's lips shaped in an 'O' and he nods at the understanding that the rumors he heard was wrong.

"What about you, Park Jimin? Do you have children?" You diverted the attention to him. And he gladly complied. The ones that asks questions are the ones in power. "I have a baby daughter, she's four months old," he beamed, "But she's not here right now, she has chicken pox so my mother is taking care of her at the village since we both work."

Jimin peeks over Yoongi's shoulder and saw a piano standing by the window.

"You guys play piano?"

Okay, he's getting nosy. Yoongi blinks rapidly, "Yes we do. We'd really like you to come in but the house hasn't been properly set up yet so it's unfortunate..."

"Oh no, it's okay. I've always wanted to resume my piano lessons but having children doesn't make that possible..." Jimin steps back, understanding that he had crossed some lines. Yoongi reciprocate with a peace offering, "I'm not properly settled yet, but maybe I could mention that I own a music academy back in Daegu, so I can offer you a lesson. You live down the hall right?" Yoongi reconfirms.

"Yes, yes! That would be great, you're a piano teacher! That's awesome..." "He is a composer too," you added. "Ah, she's exaggerating," Yoongi chuckles and send Jimin off to his way.

The food arrives just in time. With Jimin's generous wife providing kimchi and beansprout stew with tofu, your dinner was rather lavish.

The first scoop exudes a loud contented sigh. Yoongi lands his hand on your thigh, munching soundlessly. Scanning the room with your eyes, you made a mental note to mop the floors later to finish things up. The twins room need proper tending to, since the boys are pretty individualistic in their own taste so before Yoongi assembles the beds, you made a mental note to ask the boys what color they wanted on their walls and which sides they want.

The two, although physically alike, Han being the first born is very meek and shy, studious and textbook smart. So his colors are yellow pastels with pastel blue drawn moon and stars, you predicted. He has his own book rack that he aspires to fill up soon. He is not much of an outside person, so that's why you were surprised that he enjoyed being out and about in the village Yoongi's mom lived in.

Nam on the other hand, is quite a handful. The little rascal is the one adopting squirrels and taking in stray cats. The only time he is calm is when he is playing the piano. Nam is a violent sleeper and frequently wet his bed when he was younger. He doesn't do it anymore, but the memory stays vivid in your mind because Yoongi was sniffing around like a dog, because he swore he smelled something odd. And when it struck him, he clenched his eyes shut in silent pain, pinching the bridge of his nose. Nam probably preferred something in darker brown tone or dark blue so he could draw stars and planet on them. Very contrasting, isn't it? But they both liked skies.

There's another demanding decision to be made. Yoongi took a seat on the piano seat, revealed the keys and glide his fingers airily over the pretty black and white notes before turning to you in big wondering eyes. You stood there, mug between your palms, leaning your head against the wall.

"What should I play?" "I don't know, how are you feeling?"

For then, he drops his eyes to the keys, muttering if he could remember the notes correctly. And then. And then he begins A Thousand Years. Sending you fleeting away in the dreamy composition, knees buckling, as your eyes begins to water to the song you got married with. It was like your wedding once again. Your heart clenches and blooms at the same time. The emotions flooding with every notes played so expertly, dancing on his nimble fingers. His head lulls along with the music, clenching shut were his eyes. You could picture the montages of the yesteryear that passed, the hardships, the uncertainty, the leap of faith you took and opening your heart to him, and how it was the bravest and the scariest thing you've ever done. However, every big decision felt like a mistake in the beginning.

With two kids, and a happy home; there's nothing more you could ask for. Everything you needed, needing and will need, is right here.

Devotion that he portrays so effortlessly, made you want to match to his standards. It was something you had never seen before. Yoongi is more action than a word man. He doesn't say 'I love you' as frequently as you'd like him to, but it shows in everything he does. From how he wakes the boys up with a kiss good morning, passing you your morning coffee and getting the meals ready when it's his turn to cook, to the way he invites you to a sudden dance by the parking lot on your bad days, grabbing the boys by the waist when they misbehave, or how he cries at each of their piano recitals knowing he's their teacher, and how he takes every meltdown so swiftly in the way only Yoongi does well. You are always at awe of his dedication, and how he seems to know everything he needs to know. He doesn't run away from commitment although it took awhile for him to convince himself to marry. Yoongi is always so put-together, always understanding the situation beyond the surfaces and the outward view.

The tears welling up the brims, impending to fall. Until it finally surrenders from its own weight, trailing down steadily on one side as the song comes to an end. Yoongi looks up with his own eyes glittering. He reached out for your hand and brought you to the wide glass doors, overlooking the view the balcony had. He positioned you in front of him, and you pressed your back to his chest. And he sways his body side to side with you, enjoying the sapphire blue star studded transitioning sky, and one by one, the neighboring residences flickering their lights on. He nuzzled his face in your hair, hugging your waist so tight as if you could disappear into thin air if he held any loose.

"Would you look at that view," he whispers softly in your ear. The images shifts to the reflection of you and him on that glass door, faintly there, and, "There's stars inside of us."

He then brought his arm up around your shoulders, and hums a melody. He shut his eyes, feeling contented with just your presence. And then your index finger, floats over his forearm in a trance.

"The house feels empty without them," you confessed. "I know right," he shot, "Let's hurry up, and finish setting everything so we can have the boys here." "I can't believe I'm saying this but I miss having a fight with them."

With another shared shower, in a somewhat larger tub, the sheets are clean and ready for use, waiting just outside. Yoongi and you climbed on the bed at the same time.

"I can't wait for all of us to live here, I think the boys will really like it... it has playground and the tub is huge, their room is bigger than the last one, they will be so excited and I can't wait for those little faces lit up..." you cheerfully did the shoulder dance until Yoongi begins to snore. And not even the usual kind of snore. More like the surprise attack snore that doesn't give you any warning. Sudden silence and then a hitched breathing in. Your smile dissipates immediately and you frowned at your husband, jaws hanging open, with a hint of saliva pooling at the corners which he sloppily licked over and you scooted closer to his face, eyes falling to the view of his nose and lashes, where you whispered, "You look ugly when you sleep..."

Pause, and pressing your lips on his cheek bones, "But I still love you."

He turns to the side away from you and hogs the blanket, mumbling, "You look ugly too."

Huh. Is that so.

Yoongi's first morning in the new neighborhood includes brewing coffee for the missus and then a stroll down the park to the nearest convenient store to buy some bread and jams for breakfast. Maybe fine sliced beef and eating more of that expensive beef since the boys aren't here. And as he made his way to the cashier, a small ruckus was heard from the entrance where a men was holding two toddlers in each hand while having another one in the baby sling back. He is very attractive for a father of three, to which Yoongi flinches at the thought of possibly falling for a guy.

"Alright, Tata," he spoke and the gorgeous baritone sends Yoongi's arm to sudden chill, "Where did you find that key?" The smart little one points at the apple in the freezer. "We're not having apples until you tell me, where you got that key... Come on sweetie, daddy's gotta go pee, we don't have time for this," he sobs cutely, stomping his feet. Yoongi thanks the cashier and took his bagged groceries, passing the handsome father, idly.

"Taehyung, you dummy, that's Namjoon's key. Give me back my daughter, Lily get back here," this one is also a good looking father, barging through the door, almost hitting Yoongi in the process. "I know I told you I'm going to lend you my game console, that doesn't mean you can kidnap my Lily..." this taller one pestered.

"No! I like Uncle Taetae!" the one who is about seven, throttled back to his dad, Yoongi assumed. "Why?!" "The key is Namjoon's? But Seokjin-hyung, why is it here?" "Because Koya dropped it, you coconut head! You need to give it back to him..." "But he changed his door lock about two weeks ago..." "It doesn't matter?" Seokjin felt how ridiculous the conversation is, "I have to be home, my in-laws are coming..."

What an interesting neighborhood. Good thing is Yoongi don't have toddlers anymore to be hanging out with those losers. Until he receives a phone call from you, asking for a morning sickness pill safe for pregnant women on his way up.

"I think we'll have another one, Yoongs."

That's the thing about families you know. One thing leads to another, and then it piles on. Unexpected, uncertainties, the so-called picturesque view of a blank canvas can sometime be really scary even for Yoongi. So if you're pregnant, and lecture begins in a month, the boys will be back home, Yoongi will be torn limb-by-limb until the baby is delivered. And probably not even then. His fingers run chill, the hair behind his neck stood up. All those sleepless nights, the murky stained shirt, vomits and poops are coming back to haunt him.

His view flew to the bickering fathers now calming their two toddlers, crying for god knows what reason. Are you ready for the chaos that's about to unfold? Will Yoongi be ready to be a house husband and join those very idiots he called losers?

COPYRIGHT © 2019 NAMJOONCHRONICLES do not repost, who do you think is going to be revealed as the house husband for the next fic of this lovely neighborhood? share what you love, tell me what you liked in this one

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addierose444 · 4 years

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Remote College

Last week, I wrote about the academic component of remote college. This week I am writing more generally about what remote college has been like.

Social Life:

As an introverted person who has plenty of access to safe outdoor space, I am probably better off than most. However, the social aspect of college is still what I miss the most. On a regular day, the only non-digital faces I see are my parents and dogs. During a school day, I also see my professors and some classmates over Zoom. On Mondays during lunch, I continue to attend the French Table. While it’s now over Zoom, it still provides a nice bit of continuity from my on-campus college experience. Language tables are an informal time to practice speaking in and listening to your target language. As someone at an intermediate level of French, I appreciate getting the chance to communicate with Smithies at an advanced level along with students who are actually from France. I also like that I have been able to meet French professors that I may have in future semesters. Language tables are offered in a variety of languages and prior to going virtual, they took place in the side rooms of Chuckett (Chase-Duckett dining hall).

I have kept in contact with college friends via text, phone, and FaceTime, but it's really not the same. At Smith, I really enjoyed being an active member of Hubbard. I loved being involved with house council, attending weekly house teas, and eating dinners with my housemates. A few weeks ago, we actually had a house tea over Zoom which was a lot of fun. My ukulele club no longer meets, but we have an online chat on Discord where we can post song recommendations. The song I am currently listening to on repeat is the Dixie Chicks’ new song Gaslighter. They have an album of the same name coming out next month which I am really looking forward to. Another upside is that my extended family has been able to connect over Zoom.

Campus:

I didn’t expect to miss the physical campus as much as I have. I live in a beautiful place and have gone on nice walks here in Vermont, but there is just something I miss about being on campus. Partly it’s just the independence of being a college student paired with the support of not yet being thrown in the “real-world”. It wasn’t until now that I have fully appreciated simply walking around campus between classes. I also miss just looking out my window at Ford Hall.

Smith Community:

While I have been really missing campus and seeing friends on a daily basis, I have been reminded of how amazing the Smith community is by a wonderful virtual exchange of encouragement between Smithies. Some students started an email chain of sorts. The structure is difficult to explain (and I don’t think everyone understood how it was supposed to work), but I will try to outline it here. The email itself was just an explanation of the initiative and contained a list of two names. The second name was the person who sent you the email and the first name was the person who had sent it to them. The actual words of encouragement were the words that recipients of the email shared with the person in the first position of the list. I chose to share Carole King’s “You've Got a Friend”. After sending the words of encouragement you were instructed to make a copy of the email, update the list of names, and send it to some friends. I have since received some wonderful poems from other Smithies (including people I’ve never met).

#college #Smith College #remote college #COVID-19 #smith community #language tables

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theheartofpenelope · 5 years

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SIMPLE THINGS - Chapter five

Chapter five - excerpt : Granted, the subsequent sexual encounter might have been quite imaginary, it dìd prove to Charlotte she was still alive inside. It reminded her of her youth, her possibilities and – let’s be honest - her needs. And upon returning home Charlotte had deemed herself finally ready to gently ease herself back into the dating game, much to her best friend Elisabeth’s joy. The ‘Lizzie’ to her ‘Charlie’. Ever understanding, ever supportive, but ever impatient as well.

Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1

Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on -also : the lay-out of the text-conversation is so much cleaner on AO3. But here on Tumblr it’s a bit of a mess as those specific html-outlining- inserts don’t work *perfectionistic groan* So it’s not looking ‘perfect’ here on Tumblr, I had to manually try to outline it - but I did the best I could... Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…

Also on AO3 through this link Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter five Amsterdam, the Netherlands

Amsterdam did not hold many secrets for Charlotte anymore. She had visited the scenic city many times before and so the site had somehow become a familiarity to her. She would never have realised that if Tom hadn’t requested her to send him some pictures of the Netherlands’ capital.

Yes. Tom.

His first message came as quite a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. And Charlotte gladly obliged to the kind wish of this man who had kept his word and sent her some not-so-touristy addresses she ought to visit while in Hamburg and Berlin - her next destinations.

Charlotte’s phone shots mostly consisted of her favourite sights such as the bridges over the breath-taking canals, boats, strings of light bulbs lighting up pop-up summer bars in the park and the beautiful restored architecture that took her breath away as if it were the first time she’d laid eyes upon it. Thank you Tom for reminding me of this.

The Convention didn’t take up much of her time for a change. Charlotte gladly took the opportunity to stop by the floating flower market for some fresh flowers, and browse through one of her favourite flea markets where she picked up a few books before boarding the intercity train home later that afternoon.

With her new acquisitions all packed up, Charlotte strolled down to the Central Station. Upon entering the building, that felt more like the ‘arrivals and departures’- scene at any given airport, she walked passed some colourful shops. She hopped in one to get herself a refreshing drink for the ride home and upon queueing at the cash register, her eyes scanned over the headlines of the international press that was presented there. One specific title in big bold letters called out to her. A tabloid read out in bold red print : ‘Tom Hiddleston spotted with mystery woman’.

Charlotte laughed a little louder than planned as she detected the picture showcased in fact his publicist’s intern. She shook her head in amusement; was this the man she was currently sending touristy pictures to? Felt a bit silly really…

Charlotte couldn’t deny that over the start of the summer her life had somehow taken an unexpected and bizarre turn. While her professional life had continued to overshadow her private life, she did seem to have found a somewhat manageable and unique balance between the two.

In the sense that she would combine her professional obligations at conferences abroad with some extra me-time. She would try to extend her stay as far as time or reason allowed, so she could go and explore the cities and come to herself before starting all over again somewhere else.

In her head her plan seemed picture perfect, in reality she came to realise she really ought to prepare these kinds of visits just a little bit more. Tom’s tips came in more than handy here… She caught her lips curving into a smile.

Stop it! Silly girl...

Up until now Charlotte had managed to keep her head on straight, regardless of her hectic schedule. She was tired but ambitious, worn-out at times but always remained curious and anxious for what came next. And then came London... the visit that shook her up a bit. It felt as if the carpet had suddenly been pulled out from under her feet. Metaphorically she’d stumbled at first, taken quite the fall nevertheless but then got up again, feeling quite unsure and apprehensive. It had been a dizzying 72 hours, but equally exhilarating nonetheless.

Granted, the subsequent sexual encounter might have been quite imaginary, it dìd prove to Charlotte she was still alive inside. It reminded her of her youth, her possibilities and – let’s be honest - her needs. And upon returning home Charlotte had deemed herself finally ready to gently ease herself back into the dating game, much to her best friend Elisabeth’s joy. The ‘Lizzie’ to her ‘Charlie’. Ever understanding, ever supportive, but ever impatient as well. So before Charlotte was good and well aware ‘Lizzie’ had her all set up for a blind date later that night.

Charlotte did her best not to take any offence in Lizzie’s sudden matchmaking extravaganza - lord knows how long she’d been pushing the matter - but decided to ‘just go with it’.

Charlotte switched her phone into flight mode as she boarded the train. She had a thing with flight mode. The thrill of being able to cut out all outside intrusions was one she often indulged in. And right now she had opted to treat herself to some lounge music while reading. With two hours to kill, it seems the perfect getaway from reality.

She settled in her seat, earphones plugged in, loungy music on and one of her new acquirements resting in her hands. She admired the mysterious cover for a while. It was a book Tom had highly recommended to her. Intrigued, she curiously delved in.

WIthin no less than a dozen pages, to her greatest surprise, the words struck home to both Charlotte and her wounded heart.

“Even though I complain sometimes it (his heart) said, it’s because I am the heart of a person, and people’s hearts are that way. People are afraid to pursue their most important dreams because they feel they don’t deserve them, or that they won’t be able to achieve them.

Many years ago Charlotte had lost her heart to a man. Well, a boy still when they’d first met. And she’d treasured him just as much as he had treasured her. They had gone through so much together; they left the university-benches together and dived headfirst into their professional lives. And while they took their time to search where their respective professional futures lay, they wasted no time on their personal future and got married. She’d truly followed her heart.

Fairly soon he was on his road to success, while Charlotte struggled. They bought a flat with a breath-taking view over the park but by then the marriage was already in heavy weather...

Charlotte’s stomach turned into a knot as the narrative in the book went on.

"We, their hearts, become fearful just thinking of loved ones who go away, or of moments that could have been good, but weren’t, or treasures that might have been found but were forever hidden in the sands. Because when these things happen we suffer terribly.”

You see; back then, in her professional life Charlotte had only faced glass ceilings and struggled with the balance between professional and private life. A struggle her husband had failed to see or recognize.

Evidently work demanded they would started moving in different circles, networking, meeting new people, investing. He had to put in crazy hours, there was no energy left for other struggles. And Charlotte definitely felt like a struggle he wanted to do without. Or one he could do without.

It astounded her really. After all, they had overcome so much together; she always thought their relationship had a solid foundation that could resist any type of storm. But somehow, in this phase of their lives, she felt as if their marriage was built on nothing more than a children’s floaty. Whimsical, terrifyingly unpredictable. To make matters worse, in his opinion there was only room for one career in a marriage. Charlotte begged to differ but for the sake of her marriage she gave up trying to pursue more , thinking it would make her happier and by result him as well. Only it didn’t.

She wasn’t suffering though, not anymore , Charlotte thought. With pain in her heart, she had to accept the crumbling of their relationship, their understanding and ultimately their love. She had fought and sacrificed, alas it takes two to tango and their paths lay so far apart now. Closing the door on her marriage, she closed off the door to love in general. Although the divorce was ultimately somehow a mutual decision; that didn’t mean it hurt any less. He had been a part of her past and present, but sadly no longer held her future and that insight hurt. Those who say infidelity hurts the most, meet ‘indifference’; the very close runner up!

"My heart is afraid it will have to suffer,” said the boy.

“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams because every second of the search is an encounter with God….”

Charlotte had turned her focus now solely on her professional life where all of a sudden – to her a delight - a glass ceiling started showing subtle cracks. She grasped the opportunity with both hands, diving into work and research at full speed, ignoring all else.

Her wings had been clipped in the past, she felt she owed it to herself to open them up now and fly. Far, far away. And she dreaded the day (or the person) who would even try to confine her again.

It caused her an occasional lecture from her best friend Lizzie, but was it clear to outsiders as well that she had closed herself off like this? Or was Tom’s recommendation of this particular book just a happy – albeit freakishly strange - coincidence?

Cracking open the door to my heart wasn’t enough; must you take down the entire façade as well?

Realising the answer to this question was irrelevant she immediately engrossed herself further in the book. Charlotte felt tears stinging as the chapter went on. Before she knew it, she was halfway along the book when the train halted at her destination. She left the train with a heavy heart, an emotional wound but a regained insight. She shook her head and tucked her new favourite book in her purse.

2. It had to be said : Charlotte was pleasantly surprised that she was greeted with a very charming man that evening.

Well done Lizzie!

He was tall and dressed to the nines, with dark hair, piercing green eyes and a handsome smile to match. She had an inkling he knèw he had charm, but she was not yet sure if he played that card.

He turned out to be both charismatic and intelligent. Charlotte had to fight her inner cynic who immediately wanted to find out what was ‘wrong’ with him in order for him to be single, temporarily forgetting he might as well have the same reservations towards her.

They shared appetizers while talking about the current heat wave, the local news, bits and bobs. It was mildly entertaining, at least as far as anxious blind dates can go. It would seem a lovely dinner would ensue.

The man was athletic, which made him easy on the eye however not on the mind. It started when dinner was ordered and gluten was off limits. “Not allergic,” he elaborated, “but bad for my physique.” Charlotte however gladly indulged in a homemade Sicilian pasta stew. It wasn’t meant as a rebellious act, she was simply a not-so-secret foodie.

We’re on the fence here, ladies and gentlemen, but let us not jump to conclusions…

When the topic of interest came up, it was clear they could not have been more divers and while in her mind that thrilled her, she found he held no remote interest in her hobbies. In fact; he was quite opinionated. She may have been as well, but isn’t there some sort of grey zone? Or the illusion of politeness for starters?

Strike 1.

He considered art as overrated and too pricey. While Charlotte could agree on the financial matter, but ‘overrated’? Seriously? He considered literature old and stuffy, and commented along the lines of “honestly who reads these days.”

Strike 2.

Also, he left his smartphone on the table during the entire dinner and wasn’t too shy to check it at times. Hel-lo?

Strike 3.

Charlotte had learned long ago to be honest about her desires and so by the end of dinner, after the coffee and the dessert, when he suggested drinks at a wine & lounge bar, she politely refused. She was knackered and the foresight of spending more time going through pointless conversation frustrated her.

She kindly bid her farewell and at his attempt to a ‘let’s do this again maybe’ Charlotte carefully added she did not see any point in that. Kind as he might have been. She was met with a surprised reaction. Apparently he did not expect an answer as honest as this, even though he did feel the same.

Was it not ok to just step forward and say things like this, then?

Clearly he wasn’t a feminist either. Or was she just high maintenance?

You’re out!

On her walk home, Charlotte unmuted her smartphone. At least shé had the common sense to zone out outside distractions during her date. As expected Lizzie had already dropped several lines to her. And Charlotte was about to – and very gingerly so – elaborate on the horror-date, “ 3 hours down the drain, did I rush home for this ?” when she made another, more pleasant, discovery.

Tom had replied to her Amsterdam snapshots. It instantly lifted her mood to read her pictures had brought ‘joy to his heart’ before going on to share an equally amusing as eloquent anecdote on his day. Clearly a man who reads , the devil on her shoulder fired back to her long-gone date.

After London, Charlotte had adjusted his name on her contact list to the more fitting ‘Instigator Tom’. She grinned as they exchanged some messages back and forth. As it appeared Charlotte wasn’t the only one who had suffered a lousy end to a promising evening; Tom had gone through a crappy day as well. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she carefully informed him :

I started reading ‘The Alchemist’<<

>>And? Your thoughts so far?

There was this quote that I cannot shake…<< ”You will never be able to escape from your heart.<< So it's better to listen to what it has to say”<< So tonight, I listened to it.<<

Tom’s lips curved into a smile while he tapped on his phone that that was undoubtedly a very wise decision on her behalf. Although he did sympathise for her date gone wrong. He chuckled out loud when Charlotte swiftly countered with a “you should be, it’s all your fault really - recommending that book and all…” And he gladly and sincerely apologized to her.

To his surprise her date turned out to be a blind date, and before he was well aware he had sent out :

>> So, it was a ‘blind’ date? Forgive me for saying, but you don’t strike me as the type who would need a set-up?

I’ll take the compliment ;-) <<

So Charlotte had went on a date, a blind one at that. While Tom wanted to think 'good for her', his mind fixated on 'single'. Truly, he wanted nothing more than to bond with her on the difficulties of dating but found himself lacking for any decent answer in that department because he simply did not date. Not anymore.

Long gone were the days were he would (or could) just go out and strike up a conversation with a woman and see where it went. He wasn’t around long enough to let anything flourish, let alone bloom. Not at all. When he wasn’t working, his days or evenings were filled with press tours, interviews, premiers, gala's. Maybe an occasional party. But the essence of it all was always exactly the same. Someone would pull on his sleeve, demanding him to ' come and meet someone' . Someone in his line of work, someone up and coming, someone he should definitely rub shoulders with. Meet so and so. Talk, discuss, network. At times it really wàs lovely and interesting. But the horrible truth of the matter remained that Tom was living by his work schedule and not by his heart. A very conscious decision he’d made many years ago, that had somehow turned into a grueling reality these days.

So he replied to Charlotte in the only way he could, by truthfully confiding in her and sharing the loneliness of the ‘picture perfect actors’ behind the spotlights.

Thank you for saying that. However, I find this very doubtful… <<

>> It is the truth though, I’m afraid.

He hesitated for a moment, before daring to question her :

>> You’ve not been dating long?

No. Just easing into it again. (Peer pressure)<< It’s been a while…<<

Tom unknowingly bit his lower lip, subsequently running his tongue over it while he wondered how he could diplomatically find out more without seeming crass or rude. Did she suffer from a bad break-up? To his surprise she very easily and clearly admitted that the only thing she ‘suffered from’ was a lonely divorce.

A divorce?

Charlotte chuckled and shook her head when Tom apologized via text - as if he had anything to do with her marital status… A short text of his followed asking her what had happened and then a third one; another apology because he reasoned his asking was ‘probably rather indiscrete’.

She was unaware that a heavy sigh escaped her lips as she delved deep into her thoughts before typing out:

That’s all right. I guess ‘life’ happened?<< Feels like failure though.<<

Or the death slot on the goose board. Back to square one.<<

(can’t believe I just said that)<<

Goes to show, I’m damaged goods. Steer clear ;-)<<

Her answer came out in a series of separate texts. The obvious proof her mind was still processing somewhat. Tom’s benevolent reply that she shouldn’t be too hard on herself, warmed her heard. After all, he reasoned “Sometimes it’s nice to start over? Or heal.”

So they say… <<

Dot. End of the line.

Charlotte kept silent after this. Nothing more was to be said on the matter, was there? In London, Tom thought long and hard about a decent reply… In his heart he felt he could not end this conversation on those last words of her.

>> If memory serves me well, the book also says : “Don't give in to your fears. If you do, you won't be able to talk to your heart.”

Charlotte smiled to herself as a text followed in which he reasoned “we’re not meant nor made to be alone” and that her peer pressuring friends are right in pushing her forward after nearly a year on the bench. “Someone to talk to late at night, Someone to cuddle, … not to be underestimated!”

He shook his head to himself when he caught himself typing that the end of a marriage isn’t the be all - end all. And while he fervently dreamed he would never have to experience a divorce first-hand, sometimes it was simply the right thing to do. If only you handled it well. In which case he referred to his parents and the toll it could possibly take on the young children involved. But Charlotte had no children, she was young enough to start over. And there is no harm in that.

Now this is some very cheap therapy , a mirthless grin at his own expense.

>> Not all storms come to disrupt your life, Charlotte, some come to clear your path.

A pause.

>> Besides, there’s always the prison-slot. Just a time-out until someone sets you free.

… isn’t that a Sting song?<<

>> Avoiding the point Charlotte..

:-) << Thank you for recommending the book to me though.. <<

>> I hold it close to my heart. I had a feeling you might appreciate it as well.

Charlotte heaved a content sigh and confessed that, indeed, all she wanted to to was to get home and finish the book. To her surprise he correctly guessed she would and should just do that in her garden. Good memory, young man. Bonus points for you.

She agreed with him and shared her intent of making a fresh mint tea first. Because when you read in the garden at night, this was the only way to do it right. He chuckled to himself and confessed how much he could relate to that.

Their conversation ended with wishing the other a good night and the promise of more book recommendations.

Placing his smart phone away, Tom reminisced on the sneak-peak he’d gotten of her heart and it was not what he had imagined it to be. In his eyes she was intelligent, beautiful and carefree. He never considered her broken hearted. Goes to show everybody hides behind a façade, he realised. It made him like her just a little bit more.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #simple-things

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sophcaro · 6 years

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Destiny | WMatsui - Chapter 40 Part 1

Eight months later.

Haneda airport was crowded on this Saturday morning, between the permanent come and go of tourists entering the Japanese territory, and the flow of passengers waiting for their plane to take off. It hadn’t taken more than half an hour for Jurina and Rena to check-in their baggage at the All Nippon Airways counter, then pass the security control, and were as for now settled down in the departure waiting room. Rena retrieved a book from her backpack, before reading the airline’s company information screen: their flight was due for takeoff at 11:45 a.m. as planned, and their boarding time had been announced.

“We’ll be boarding in 45 minutes,” Rena spoke up. When she received no answer, she tilted her head to her traveling companion.

Jurina was desperately trying to stay awake, her head having already on several occasions leaned towards her side and fallen upon her shoulder. Rena smiled fondly, conscious her girlfriend was sleep deprived. But how could it be otherwise? All month, Jurina was so excited about their upcoming holidays that she had been unable to contain her enthusiasm, going through their program and all the places they planned to visit. To add it up, Rena suspected that Jurina hadn’t slept that much last night, considering the number of times she had turned over in bed.

Well, at least, she would be able to take advantage of their 12-and-a-half-hour flight to catch up on sleep, Rena hoped.

As she was ready to plunge herself back into her reading, two eyes fluttered open and slowly gazed back at her. “Sorry, did you…” Jurina covered her mouth with her palm when a small yawn escaped her. “Did you say something?”

“I wanted to take a look around the different shops.” Rena placed a bookmark at the page, and closed the book on her lap. “Will you be fine? Do you want something to drink?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jurina answered, blinking the sleep away. “I wouldn’t mind Ramune. Straw-” When her stomach growled, she stiffened. “Strawberry flavored, if they have it. Please.”

“I can buy you something to eat too, but lunch will be served on the plane,” Rena reminded her, not bothering to hide her amusement.

“No, I’ll wait,” Jurina straightened up, before checking her phone in concern. “They still haven’t arrived yet. Maybe… Maybe I should call to check where they are?”

“I’m sure they’ll be here soon,” Rena tried to sound reassuring, raising herself from her seat. “I’m leaving my backpack with you. I won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” Jurina left her phone aside, grabbing her Ipod and untangling the earpieces. “I’ll listen to music. It will keep me awake.”

“Alright,” Rena caressed her shoulder gently, then grabbed her wallet and slowly made her way out the departure waiting room. By the way the place was being filled with passengers progressively, she figured out their flight would probably be full. It didn’t come as a real surprise: it was, after all, a destination of choice.

Rena wandered around the halls of the airport, passing by the several perfume, clothing and souvenirs shops, then made a halt at the Books & Drugs store. She went through the magazines at the front, finding none of her interest, before taking a look at the book section, notably the latest releases. There would be plenty of occupation on the plane, with the large selection of movies to watch, to the games, books and music she had brought along with her, yet her attention got caught by the mysterious cover of a foreign novel.

Removing it from the shelf, she flipped the book over to read the backcover, discovering it was a French writer whose works had been recently translated into Japanese. Her interest was piqued by the pitch, a science-fiction story mingling romance, drama and time traveling. Well-decided to add that book to her reading list, she moved in the direction of checkout with her next purchase, when she was distracted by the sound of her cellphone vibrating. While waiting in line, she checked the screen, reading the text she had received.

Rena-chan,

Please look over my daughter and make sure she doesn’t get lost when you’re abroad; she always had a terrible sense of direction. If you could also remind her to send me messages and pictures from time to time, I would be truthfully grateful. We both know how distracted she can be when she’s in good company and enjoying herself, and she can tend to slightly forget about her worrying mother.

Have a safe flight.

Yumiko

Rena chuckled softly at the last words and typed back a short, reassuring message, before replacing the device inside her pocket. When it was her turn to pay, she advanced towards the cashier, handing out her Suica card to the employee, then walked out the store to retrace her steps back to the waiting room. With her brand-new book, a couple of snacks, the drink Jurina had requested and her own melon soda secured in a plastic bag, Yumiko’s last text stayed imprinted in her mind, making her reflect upon the bond she had forged with Jurina’s mother those past few months.

If she had to be perfectly sincere, it had not been without a certain apprehension that she had followed Jurina to the dinner organized by her mother at the beginning of January. It clearly wasn’t the first time she met Yumiko, as she had interacted and crossed her path on dozens of occasions when she and Jurina were members of the idol group. However, the special circumstances surrounding this dinner in particular couldn’t help but slightly worry her about its outcome.

Rena was fully aware that Jurina had every intention of formally introducing her as her girlfriend: she had expressed clear determination on the subject. But, further than that, and despite wanting to remain optimistic, it was hard to predict how this reunion would turn out, considering the recent fallout between Jurina and her mother. Was Yumiko ready to openly accept their intimate relationship? But most of all, would Jurina manage to put the past behind and reconcile with her?

The first few seconds, when they had passed the door of the family home and exchanged polite greetings, had been marked by a certain tension in the air. Rena had let Jurina take the lead, remaining quieter than usual, cautious not to cross boundaries as she refused to commit any unfortunate blunder in the light of all the stakes at hand. As the evening slowly progressed and the conversations became less awkward and more natural, Yumiko’s behavior startled her pleasantly. Jurina’s mother was doing everything in her capacity to put them both at ease. Her intention to mend the rift with her daughter was more than manifest in her gentle approach, and every affectionate word addressed to her.

During the course of dinner, Rena witnessed the progressive renewed complicity between mother and daughter. No mention was ever made of the events that had been at the origin of the conflict. It wasn’t necessary: everything had already been shared, confessed, and explained at length. The purpose of this dinner wasn’t to dwell over the past and reopen old wounds, but to make peace and look towards a brighter future. More than once, Jurina had turned to her side and not been shy to speak tenderly about her, even make light affectionate gestures, whether a brief touch of her hand or a gentle, innocent kiss on the cheek, in Yumiko’s presence.

Rena hadn’t hesitated to reply to a few of them, while paying attention to her mother’s reaction, in case of any sign of unease. Much as Jurina wanted to openly be herself in front of her mother, the last thing Rena wished was to make the latter feel uncomfortable. To her greatest relief, Yumiko had responded in a favorable way to every single demonstration of affection expressed, even surprising them both when she had openly stated that she wholeheartedly considered Rena as a member of the family, and she would always be welcomed at home.

Jurina’s eyes had shimmered in reaction, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t felt warmth spreading through her chest at the verbal acceptation of her role in Jurina’s life. This dinner constituted not only a key turning point in the relationship between Jurina and her mother, but also in regards to her own with Yumiko. The following months, it wasn’t rare that they would exchange texts, and she gladly went along with Jurina when she was invited for dinner at the family home, each and single time received and treated very warmly.

In March, her relationship with the younger girl took on a higher level when they moved in together in Tokyo. When Rena suggested to Jurina this new living arrangement one evening over dinner, it had been a well-considered decision. She was fully conscious of what leaving their respective apartments and find a new place of their own implied. It was one thing to date and love someone, it was another to accept to have them share your personal space on a daily basis.

For so many years, Rena had valued her independence above all, yet she was forced to admit than nothing had ever completely been the same anymore when her heart began to beat for Jurina. When she voiced her wish to live together, and witnessed her girlfriend radiating joy and happiness, she didn’t feel an ounce of doubt within her about this important decision. Jurina hadn’t waited to announce it to her mother over the phone, the latter receiving the news with joy, and giving them her unconditional support.

One week, when Jurina had to travel abroad for the shooting of a TV commercial, Rena had taken the direction of Toyohashi, her hometown, conscious it was time to share with her parents the recent important changes in her life. Being an idol, then an actress, prevented her from seeing her family as often as she would like. Nevermind the circumstances and her busy schedule, Rena had constantly tried to maintain a close contact with them, exchanging frequent texts and phone calls to keep them updating on her professional life, and the doubts sometimes placating her.

However, as much as Jurina had preferred to keep their relationship secret from her mother for so many years, her own relationship status had been a subject she had equally carefully kept private. When she and Jurina rekindled the flame in December, then took this next important step in their life by moving in together, the strong and long-lasting nature of their love didn’t make any more doubt to her. Rena knew it was the right moment to make her relationship with Jurina official.

Rena was certain about her decision of being upfront with them, yet a natural flicker of apprehension had surged within her when she had announced the news to her parents. They had listened to her attentively, not manifesting any sign of disapproval or even expressing much astonishment. She didn’t ask, yet the lack of real surprise made Rena wonder if they had already figured it out, and if something she might have said in the past concerning Jurina had betrayed her true feelings.

When her mother suggested her to bring ‘young Jurina-chan’ along with her next time - an affectionate nickname she had given her for so many years, and from the very first moment they WCentered SKE48 - Rena couldn’t help but bathe in nostalgia. Gently reminding her mother that Jurina had grown up a lot these last few years, and was far from the child she still had in mind, she agreed to do so, fulfilling her promise when she and Jurina visited her family hometown two months later.

“Stay with daddy. I’ll go buy some drinks.”

“Yes.”

Jurina glanced up from her IPod, observing the child who had arrived with her parents and taken a seat opposite her in the airport waiting room. The little Japanese girl, who couldn’t have been more than 5, opened her pink Hello Kitty backpack, taking out a children book along with a 3DS. She made herself comfortable into the chair and hesitated between both choices, then slipped the reading book by her side to place the console on her lap. Switching it on, her fingers soon quickly pressed the buttons as she got invested in her game.

Jurina followed her actions in amusement, the child’s passion and undivided attention on her game reminding her so much of someone else. When the girl groaned and squirmed in her seat, visibly displeased with the direction her game was taking, the book by her side slipped and fell down. Jurina didn’t wait to remove her earpieces and got up from her seat, kneeling down to grab the fallen book. “Here.”

A pair of startled eyes fell upon her. “Ah, thank you…” the little girl bowed slightly, a small guilty look crossing her features as she placed it back inside her backpack.

“It’s nothing,” Jurina brushed it off, going back to her seat. A quick look at the silent father beside the child told her he had fallen asleep, briefly acknowledging the wedding band on his ring finger.

“Daddy works late,” the little girl whispered.

“Oh, I see,” Jurina whispered back. When the little girl looked down to her console and resumed her game, curiosity got the best of Jurina when a frown gradually appeared on her face. “The game is too difficult?”

“I can’t catch it,” the little girl mumbled. “Can you… Can you help me?”

“Well I…” Jurina hesitated, but couldn’t resist the hopeful look directed at her. “I can try,” she offered, the little girl’s face immediately brightening.

Jurina accepted the console yet, after multiple attempts of trying to catch the recalcitrant Pokemon, she had to concede defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m not good with games,” she winced at the girl’s blatant disappointment. “I know someone who is clearly better than me, but she left. I’m sure she’ll be able to help you when she comes back.”

“You’re not alone?” The little girl seemed genuinely surprised.

“No, I’m not. I’m traveling with some friends and…” Jurina’s voice trailed away, before adding more confidently. “And someone very special to me.”

“A boyfriend?”

Jurina’s eyes widened, taken aback by the girl’s directness. “No…” she suppressed a smile. “Not a boyfriend.”

“You are not married?” She asked again, Jurina not missing the way her new curious friend was studying her hand intently. “But you have a ring like daddy and mommy.”

Jurina glanced down to the silver ring on her finger. “Ah, that’s not a wedding ring,” Jurina explained, facing the little girl’s confusion. “But I cherish it a lot.”

Jurina believed the conversation to be over when her interlocutor didn’t utter another word and focused on her game, frenetically pressing buttons, only to lower her 3DS the moment after. “I don’t like boys. They are stupid. I like Yukiko better.”

“Who is Yukiko?” Jurina found her interest piqued.

“Yukiko is my friend,” The little girl straightened up proudly in her seat. “We always play together and I want to spend my life with her.”

Jurina couldn’t help but find the little girl’s honesty and candor truly adorable. “I’m happy you have such a good friend.”

“I brought you your drink,” Jurina jumped a little, startled at the familiar sound of Rena’s voice. So engrossed in her conversation with her recent friend, she had failed to notice her coming back and approaching. “I also bought some snacks,” Rena took back her seat, and passed her the Ramone Strawberry flavor soda from the plastic bag. “For later on the plane.”

“Thanks,” Jurina sent her a grateful smile. Pulling the cap off, she took a few generous sips, surprising herself at how thirsty she was.

While Rena was busy putting away her recent purchases into her backpack, Jurina diverted her attention to her previous young companion who had fallen extremely quiet, only to discover the little girl watching them both intently. “No, you don’t need a boyfriend. You have better.”

Jurina blinked at her enigmatic words, before noting the little girl’s giddy expression as she was now staring at Rena’s matching ring. Jurina opened her mouth to speak yet she didn’t have the opportunity to answer that the mother had returned, giving her daughter a soft drink that she had bought for her. The mother’s arrival and conversation with her daughter had also led the head of the family to stir up from his short nap, and Jurina understood that her unexpected yet interesting conversation with the little girl had come to an end.

“Do you know her?” Rena shifted closer, and whispered in her ear. “What did she mean by that?”

Jurina dragged her eyes away from the cute family scene, listening as the little girl was badgering her mother to help her with the game. “You know, sometimes,” Jurina said, suppressing with difficulty her amusement. “I think children are much more perceptive than adults.”

The boarding of the flight NH215 is about to start. Group A, please approach the counter and have your passport and plane ticket ready.

Jurina put her things away and stood up at the public announcement, following Rena who – after carefully making sure they hadn’t left anything behind – was the first to progress towards the waiting line. “Maybe… Maybe I should call them,” Jurina said tentatively, once more checking her cellphone. “Don’t you think it’s strange? Something must have happened. They should already have arrived by now.”

“I’m sure they would have warned us if something serious happened. There was probably a little traffic, or they were delayed at security control,” Rena suggested, remaining optimistic, yet knew by her girlfriend’s worried expression that her words were not having the desired effect. “But you’re right, you should send a text to check where they are.”

Jurina didn’t wait any further to quickly start typing a message on her phone, until pausing when Rena gave her a small tap on the shoulder. “After consideration, I don’t think it will be necessary.”

Jurina, taken aback by Rena’s strange little smile, turned around to follow her gaze, only to see two very familiar faces approaching their direction. “What…” Jurina couldn’t contain herself any longer. “What took you so long?!”

“Why? We’re on time, aren’t we?” Mayu said casually.

Jurina’s jaw dropped. “Barely!”

“It was that taxi driver’s fault!” Yuki protested, throwing her hands into the air with a gesture of despair. “From the moment we left the apartment, I had a bad feeling about him. First, he drove atrociously slowly and got all the red lights. Then, he managed to bring us right into traffic, and failed to find an alternative route. And finally, he dropped us at the wrong terminal! Can you believe it?”

“It’s true that you are often unlucky with taxi drivers,” Rena replied seriously, a flash of humor breaking through her face.

“I know!” Yuki shook her head in exasperation, failing to catch the playful undertone in Rena’s voice. “I wanted to send both of you a text to warn you, but Mayuyu said there was no use and we would make it on time. Thank God we left home in advance, otherwise who knows what could have happened? We could have missed the flight!”

“You’ve arrived on time, it’s all that matters,” Rena stated, looking alternately between Yuki and Mayu, before giving Jurina’s arm a light, comforting squeeze. “Everything is fine. Everyone is here. And it’s now time to board the plane.”

“You’re right,” Jurina’s features slowly relaxed. “Now that we’re all here, I wanted to say,” she spoke up solemnly, facing the other couple. “I’m conscious that it wasn’t easy for us to find a week we were all available at the same time, but I’m really happy we’re going on holidays together.” She turned to meet Rena’s gaze, and looked her full in the eye for a moment. “I really, really am.”

“I had missed it too,” Yuki smiled in agreement.

“Let’s be honest,” Mayu chimed in. “It’s not our fault if you had such a tight schedule these last 8 months. Between your TV commercials, dramas and everything, you were probably the busiest of all.”

“Me?” Jurina exclaimed, incredulity surging within her. “What about you?! You were busy shooting a movie for almost 6 months!”

Rena let out a laugh, not missing Mayu’s playful expression. “I think we can all agree that everyone of us was swamped with work. But you’re right.” She slipped her hand inside Jurina’s, giving her fingers a brief, gentle squeeze. “I’m also glad that we were all able to clear our schedule for the occasion. So, let’s make sure to make this week holiday as memorable as possible?”

“Yes,” Jurina replied, momentarily caught off guard by the mysterious twinkle in Rena’s small brown orbs. “It will be my first time there,” she admitted, feeling a rush of anticipation. “So I want to enjoy every minute of it.”

The boarding of the flight NH215 is starting. Group A, please approach the counter and have your passport and plane ticket ready.

At the second announcement, they all fell quiet and patiently waited for their turn in the waiting line, until Rena remembered a certain topic she wanted to share with Jurina. “By the way, your mother sent me a text earlier on.”

“She did?” Jurina raised her eyebrows in astonishment. “Why? What did she want?”

“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. Only making sure I would take good care of her precious daughter while we’re abroad,” Rena said teasingly.

A flush of embarrassment crept into Jurina’s cheeks. “I can’t believe she would bother you for that. She sends you too many trivial messages lately. It can’t continue. Just give me the word, and I’ll ask her to stop.”

“Don’t. I really don’t mind,” Rena chuckled softly.

Jurina went silent, uncertain. “I still think she’s going a bit too far…”

When the passenger in front of Rena passed the counter, the older Matsui extended her passport and plane ticket to the female staff, before moving forward and waiting aside for Jurina’s turn. “Actually, I kind of like it,” she continued sincerely, as they walked down the corridor leading them to their Boeing 737, Mayu and Yuki following closely behind. “In a way, I’m glad that she does. It means she completely trusts me around you.”

“Of course she does. She loves you as much as I do,” Jurina replied, her tone softening. “Well, I mean.” A mischievous expression appeared on her face. “Not as much as I love you, that’s not possible.” When Rena giggled and shook her head in response, Jurina hid a smile, aware of how terribly corny she sounded. Not that she truly cared anyway: when Rena was concerned, she refused to be shy about her affection for her.

Two female Japanese flight attendants welcomed them on board and Jurina responded to the polite greeting, following Rena as she led them towards the Premium Economy seats. After making sure to have at their disposal everything they needed for their long international flight, they put away their bags in the luggage compartment, Jurina feeling a mixture of excitement and impatience as she settled down in her seat.

Their anticipated 1-week holiday was finally starting.

Author's note: I apologize for the long wait, but I had to properly sort out my ideas for this last chapter, and make sure not to forget any detail during its elaboration. While I was writing it, this chapter 40 was getting longer than planned, so I decided to divide it in two parts. The second part will be coming up in May, followed by the epilogue, final conclusion of the trilogy.

#wmatsui #matsui jurina #matsui rena #wmatsui fanfic #SKE48 #AKB48 #Destiny #Heartbeat trilogy #Chapter 40 part 1

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ahnmakes · 5 years

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devlog # 9 // life updates + new systems (UI, character stats, turn-based system)

so, I’ve been away for what feels like a year - there are a million things I could share. first, let me update you on life things, then tell you a bit about what I’ve worked on in-game. as far as life things, I have been t i r e d. and with autumn (my favorite season) here, the desire to cuddle and sleep all day is strong.

part of what’s been keeping me so tired is also that I both started uni studies and have a new job. in the last blog, I mentioned I was thinking of going to university for further studies in computer science and all. well, thanks to a few people’s generosity (and many, many phone calls, emails, etc), I did get signed up in time! I have been absolutely in love with the things I’ve been learning in my first computer science class ever; even though it teaches Java, I have found that everything I’m learning is very easy to translate into C# and what I’m building in Unity. each day, I feel more confident in my coding, so much so that nearly everything I’ve done in the past month has been entirely from my mind, just free-coding, without any tutorial or other guidance. it is really amazing to feel like I can code up a system in my mind, even when I am away from a computer, and then sit down and type it out and it run exactly as I intended. while my studies and my new job (not especially difficult, but asks but for many hours each week; consider supporting me on Patreon so I don’t need to work as much?) keep me busy and often fatigued, I have been reclaiming time to code things I love and am really excited about - and I’d like to share with you a couple of things I’ve recently built. (edit: I just realised that a lot of the images are blurry :( will think on a fix for this)

where we left off with the last devlog, I was working a lot on the systems to build up the physical world: tile generation, interactables, biomes, and the like. I did actually work on some other parts of the world and visuals (will share that in a near future devlog!), but more and more lately, I’ve been feeling like what will really keep me excited and focused, to feel like I’ve reached a solid checkpoint in my development, is being able to actually *play* the game. even if it’s repetitive, only one area, or without animations, being able to press play and move characters around and interact is something I know will excite me. so, that’s what I’ve been working towards. there are a handful of pieces I can identify between where the game was last devlog and what it needs to be minimally playable: - a basic UI that shows character stats - a system to calculate and update the stats to be displayed - a system to keep track of turns automatically - for the UI or world to display player choices accurately - at least a couple interactive actions the player can take, besides moving (damaging health, defending, etc) I started with making a basic character stat UI and a behind-the-scenes calculator. note: since we’re working mainly on systems in this devlog, I’m going to be sharing a lot of code talk. but maybe you’re into that sort of thing. also remember that my focus in each of these pieces is not to make something gorgeous or especially well-organised; my focus is to make something that works (though I am always thinking about optimisation and other possible patterns along the way).

so, this is what the first UI for character stats looks like! I modeled this as a basic idea of how you might make a UI for creating a character and being able to preview their stats - both the base ones (like might and agility) and also a few of the compound ones (health, stamina, mana).

in this version, a player can choose an inheritance (what other games call “race”), a birth sign, and a primary class (though you won’t be able to choose it from the start like this in the game). each of these choices contributes modifiers which change the stats, which is calculated altogether when you press the left or right buttons. (again, these are not all the inheritances, signs, or classes in the game)

here’s a bit of the magick code that makes this happen:

as you can (hopefully?) see, I’m calling methods (CalculateClassValueMIT, etc) to get the relevant stat values and multiplying those against a magic number (eep!) and the character’s inheritance scaling. what you might you also notice here is that these calculations are hard-coded to a given attribute (might, dexterity, intellect, etc); along with MIT, each of the other five attributes has its own calculation method. I really hate this because I know there has to be another way to do it, but this is the way I know how to do so far - feel free to message me other patterns! (for example, I’ve seen people make a Stat class, but I don’t really get that yet?) then, while I was feeling a bit playful with UI and stats, I thought I would spend a day making a prototype of a “charisma interaction” system. by this, I mean that - in the game - characters will be able to use their interpersonal skills to be able to navigate certain quests, get more information, and the like. charisma pairs with each of the other attributes to give a certain way of interacting; for example, charisma and might could be interpreted as aggression, intimidation, using one’s size or boldness to gain favor. pairing charisma with will could render an interaction more focused on relating, understanding, and empathising. you can see some of might interaction here.

what’s shown in this is that Joseph, the unit kind enough to help with our testing, responds to your might interaction attempt with various phrases. behind the scenes, Joseph has their own inheritance, signs, and other traits, and when you click, these + a random roll are used to calculate *how* Joseph responds. in this case, Joseph has a primary sign of Aries, which inclines them to respond well to your might-based attempts (you’re in luck!). even when Joseph declines your attempts or chooses to stop talking about a subject (just wait some days for them to open up again), they will tell you that they mostly like how you’ve approached them, even if it didn’t work this time - a character with Virgo as a primary sign, however, might tell you off on your first attempt and refuse to interact further with you. rather than just a few pre-programmed dialogues, I am interested in the game having a more procedural, somewhat organic feel. also, in the actual game, Joseph will have slightly less patience; you won’t be able to keep clicking, only able to make an attempt twice in a day before the character closes that interaction. while the gif above shows many of the responses and reveal that there are just a handful of phrases this character will use, a player won’t see these in succession like this, so hopefully, the organic, personal feeling will be maintained. and again, in the future, I intend to make this more complex, not just button pressing. here’s some of the behind the scenes to how the aries sign is built. each sign is a scriptable object with these same parameters.

the basics of how a sentence is formed:

and what happens when you press the MIT button:

and the last thing to share today is about the turn-based system. I knew this was an important step in moving us closer to a playable version of the game.

take a look, and then I’ll explain.

feel free to rewatch a few times, since there’s a lot to notice.

first, I approached this system by defining exactly what makes up a turn. during a turn, the player will have four basic opportunities for choices: a first movement, an action, a secondary action (if the first was a half-action), and a second movement (if the character has any remaining movement). these are the phases that the character sees and directly interacts with. then, beyond/around that, each turn also needs to initialise a player and update any status effects (status phase), figure out who’s next and adjust each character’s place in the list (priority phase), and see if the battle conditions have been met or if a next turn is needed (check phase).

here’s a closer look at some of the phases in code:

the basic setup is that the player interacts by pressing buttons when their input is needed, then the code moves through the phases depending on numerous factors: if the player used up all their movement, if they have action remaining, if they have a status (sleep? paralysed?) that will skip their turn, which phase it is currently ..

I have seen other approaches to coding a state machine (which I guess is what this is?) that I didn’t understand very much at all, and I am excited about this code because I know it came from me and all the things I’ve learned over my short time coding. importantly, i am excited because it works.

whew.

so, what’s next?

well, I’ve built these systems solo (separate from the rest of the game systems) so that I could really polish them (as much as one polishes prototypes :p) before moving them into the fray. so, a next step is to integrate both the stat UI and the turn-based system into the rest. to make it so that a player can pull up a fuller UI with a key press. to show a constant UI indicating which units are involved in an interaction, maybe with some predictive stats (chance of hit). and to have the player’s “movement button press” actually be them choosing which tile to move to, calculating automatically if that is their full movement range, and a much prettier (radial?) UI for selecting actions .. let’s not get ahead of ourselves. one thing at a time. I will keep working at it, with my plan being to get a workable version running this weekend, so maybe check back soon. and if you’d like to support me or get some behind the scene insights or help with building your game, do check out my Patreon - I would love for you to join my party: patreon.com/ahnmakes ✨✨ otherwise, I’ll see you in the next devlog! with love and need for a long, long sleep, ahn

#gamedev #game development #game dev #unity #c #c sharp #colorful #art #ui #ux #design #rpg #final fantasy tactics #fft

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