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thebookreader12345 · 4 years ago

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New Doc in Town

Pairing: Jay Halstead x reader

Summary: Y/N is the newest doctor in the ED, and when Jay meets her for the first time, he feels something he hasn’t felt since Erin left

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: slight swearing, mention of a minor injury

Word Count: 1,561 Words

Note: Y/FC means your favorite color

I had only been at Chicago Med for a few weeks now. I used to work over at Lakeside Memorial, but transferred due to Med’s lack of ED docs. I was hesitant about it at first, but I’ve come to like my new workplace. Everyone was super welcoming, and after my first week, it already felt like home. I was currently standing at the nurses’ station looking down at my tablet, and that’s when a cute guy I had never seen before walked into the ED and glanced around.

“Uh, Maggie, could you let Natalie know that our patient’s scans are up?” I question.

“Sure thing, Y/N,” Maggie responded as I put my tablet away.

“Great. Thank you,” I tell her before walking over to the man, who seemed to be clutching his side. “Um, excuse me? Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah. Is Will here?” the man asked.

“You mean Dr. Halstead? He’s working today, but he’s currently on his lunch break,” I reply. “Did you need me to get him for you?”

“No,” the man spoke a little too quickly. “I’m trying to avoid him, actually. He’s my brother. I’m Jay.”

“Right. Will has mentioned you a few times. I’m Y/N,” I greet.

“Are you new here? I’ve never seen you around before,” Jay stated.

“Uh, I just started a few weeks ago. Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re in pain,” I point out.

“I hurt my ribs at work, and my boss won’t let me come back until I get checked out by a doctor. I didn’t want Will to worry, so I was hoping to stop by while he was busy,” Jay explained.

“Well, Dr. Manning and Dr. Choi are with patients at the moment, and Will is at lunch, so I guess you’re stuck with me. Come on,” I say and lead him to one of the empty trauma rooms. Before I could even ask, Jay pulled his shirt over his head and sat down on the bed. “So you’ve done this before then?”

Jay laughed. “Many, many times. If Med had a frequent flyer list, I’d be on it. I guess it’s what I get for being a cop.” A small smile played at my lips as I put on some hand sanitizer, and when I turned around, I caught sight of Jay’s abs, and let me just say that they were amazing. I tried not to stare for too long, and thankfully, Jay didn’t notice because he was too busy looking around the room.

“Did you get hit by a bus or something?” I ask jokingly as I examined the fairly large bruise on his side.

“Not exactly. I tackled a guy to the ground and hit my side pretty hard on some concrete,” Jay answered.

“Well, at least you caught the guy. Does this hurt?” I question and press gently against his side, earning a wince from Jay. “Okay. How about this?” I pressed a different spot and earned the exact same response, meaning I was on to something.

“That one hurt way worse,” Jay breathed out.

“I can tell. Do you mind?” I ask and pull my stethoscope from my coat pocket.

“Not at all,” Jay replied. I pressed the end of the stethoscope to Jay’s lungs and listened as he breathed in an out. I didn’t hear anything unusual, which meant I had my diagnosis.

“I’m not hearing any air escaping from your lungs, which means you didn’t puncture a lung, and I didn’t feel any breaks. You’ve just got a couple of bruised ribs. If they are fractured, they’ll heal over time, but it’s nothing too serious,” I inform him. “Did you want me to prescribe some pain medication?”

“I’m good, but thank you. Hey, if you don’t mind, could we keep this between us? I don’t want Will freaking out over nothing,” Jay spoke.

I smiled. “I won’t tell a soul. It was nice meeting you, Jay.”

“Yeah. It was nice meeting you too, Y/N. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” Jay said and put his shirt back on.

“Maybe you will,” I counter.

A Few Weeks Later...

My relationship with Jay had only grown since we had met in the ED. I went out to Molly’s with him and Will a lot these days, and I had also been to his apartment to watch hockey games sometimes. I felt some sort of connection with Jay, and I really hoped he felt the same way, which is why I hadn’t made a move yet. Will told me Jay had recently gotten out of a long relationship with a woman named Erin, so I didn’t want to push him, especially if he didn’t like me the way I liked him.

“Oh come on! You’re not giving him a penalty for that? That’s bullshit!” Jay shouted at the TV, where a hockey game was playing. Will, Jay, and I were all hanging out at Jay’s apartment watching the hockey game and eating pizza, and lets just say the Blackhawks were losing.

“It’s getting late. I should get going so I can get some sleep before my shift tomorrow. You staying?” Will asked me.

“I don’t have a shift tomorrow, and the game is still on. Of course I’m staying. Besides, if I don’t stay, I fear that Jay will end up throwing the remote at the TV and busting it so...” I trail off.

“All right. Bye Jay,” Will spoke and gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. “Bye Y/N.”

“Bye, Will,” Jay said and waved to his brother who then left the apartment. “Hey, you want a beer?”

“Sure,” I reply. Jay got off of the couch and walked into the kitchen, coming back seconds later with two beer bottles, one of which he handed to me. “Thanks. So, how’s work been?”

“Oh, you know, catching bad guys, getting bad dope off the street. The usual,” Jay answered. “How about you?”

“It’s been okay I guess. If you’re wondering if I’ve had any patients handsomer than you though, the answer is no,” I state.

Jay laughed and took a sip of beer. “That was actually going to be my next question.”

“Which is why I answered it without you even asking. I know you so well,” I joke.

“Now that I think about it, we know less about each other than we believe. Lets play 20 questions,” Jay suggested.

“Okay,” I agree and turn my body so that I faced him. “You go first.”

“All right. What’s you favorite color?” Jay asked.

“Y/FC,” I commented. “Favorite food?”

“Easy. Steak,” Jay responded. “How many parties did you go to when you were in college and med school?”

I laughed and took a sip of beer. “Too many. Why’d you become a cop?”

Jay hesitated. “I uh, I guess it was because I still wanted to feel like I was helping out the country, you know? Serving in the Rangers was amazing and all, but I didn’t want that to be what defined my life. So, I signed up for the police academy so that I could do a little good for this city. It’s a boring answer, I know.”

“I don’t think it’s boring. It’s actually pretty cool. My answer to why I became a doctor is the boring one. Someone in my family got sick, and there was nothing I could do to help them, so I figured I’d become a doctor so that I could help other people get better,” I tell Jay. “Now, I think it’s your turn to ask a question.”

“Right. Oh. Here’s a good one. Have you ever had a crush on a co-worker?” Jay questioned.

“No, but I have had a crush on a co-worker’s brother. I still do,” I reply. Right after I said that, I could feel my cheeks heat up, because I realized I was talking about Jay, and he was right in front of me. “What about you?”

“I have, obviously, because of Erin and all, but at the moment I don’t. I do, however, have a crush on one of my brother’s co-workers,” Jay disclosed.

“Anyone I know?” I ask. The chances that Jay liked me were slim, but I was really hoping that was the case here.

“I think so, yeah. She was the doctor that helped me out when I injured my ribs, and that was when we first met,” Jay informed me.

I smiled when I registered that Jay was talking about me. “How surprised would you be if I told you that you’re the co-worker’s brother that I have a crush on?”

“Not surprised at all,” Jay murmured and leaned forward, connecting our lips. I was shocked at first, because I didn’t think Jay would kiss me, but after a few seconds, I kissed back, relishing the feeling of Jay’s lips on mine. The kiss wasn’t super long, and when we pulled away from each other, I was wanting more.

“Wow,” I breathe out. “I was not expecting that, but I’m glad it happened.”

“Me too,” Jay grinned. “Hey, how would you like to go out for a date next weekend?”

“Sounds perfect. But right now, I’d really like it if you kissed me again,” I say.

“I won’t argue with that,” Jay spoke before leaning in and kissing me again.

______________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @dreamingmanip @campingmonkey @winterberryfox @nevertoofarfromivar @anotherfan07 @giagma @mrspeacem1nusone @i-like-sparkly-things

#one chicago #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd imagines #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines #intelligence unit #district 21 #chicago med #will halstead #halstead brothers

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bubsthebee · 4 years ago

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Can’t Say It.

Aizawa x Reader

Word Count: 3,541

A/N: Fluff, dragged out but it’s a happy ending. One shot. Age difference (9 years) Reader is 22 while Aizawa is 31. Mentions of alcohol.

Reader is a young teacher at UA who has a unique relationship with Pro Hero and coworker Eraserhead. After a while of getting to know each other, will they realize their feelings? OR will they let self doubt get in the way.

CHARACTER REPORT

Position: UA SCHOOL ADMINISTRATION

Job Description: Quirk Analysis and Evaluation Processing.

Name: (L/N), (F/N) Power: 2/5 D Intelligence: 4/5 B

Birthday: (5/10) Speed: 2/5 B Cooperativeness: 5/5 A

Age: 22 Technique: 5/5 S

Sex: Female (She/Her)

Quirk: Analysis

-(Y/N) is able to instantly analyze a person and their abilities after observing them, familiarizing themselves with their qurik. This also includes evaluating/predicting situations with higher than average accuracy. With this ability, she can use this information with or against a subject. She can keep up to three peoples' worth of information perfectly memorized at a time. Anymore, her analysis starts to create more errors and her accuracy decreases.

Ever since (y/n) started working at UA, everyone knew that Aizawa’s single streak was in danger.

While the scruff chined 1-A homeroom teacher taught his bustling young hero course, she supported the admin staff! Specifically falling under processing and evaluating every student's quirk and how to help progress their potential. This means every homeroom teacher ran their notes and evaluations about their students through her every quarter, possibly more depending on how active and intense their training has been. She and her small team are a key to the school’s successful hero and support course. No matter how a quirk was used, they would find the best way to help them improve it.

Classroom 1-A currently holds the record for most updates and changes to analysis (surprise). With an increase in updates, (y/n) has spent more sleepless nights making sure her work was perfect than she originally thought she was going to. Not that she minded of course! She was young, and found that it helped drive her to improve her passions and skill. Besides her administrative work, she also works as a substitute teacher for English, and Hero Strategy lessons twice a semester. If needed she is more than happy to help with summer lessons.

Aizawa has had more than his fair share of interaction with the young lady, more than others if one was keeping track. After the hero noticed (y/n)’s sleepless nights because of his students, he offered to stay and bring her coffee. When (y/n) noticed extra heavy bags under his eyes, there would be a nicely wrapped lunch on his desk with a cute thank you note in return.

Over time a unique relationship developed between the two that anyone looking in could clearly see. Including the students.

“Mr Aizawa! Your lady friend left ya another lunch, you’re so LUCKY.” Denki and Mineta whined without hesitation.

“Why don’t we get cute lunches made by cute girls?”

“Shut up! That’s Ms. (L/n) you’re talking about, not some side chick you dumbos. I think it’s really sweet.” Mina cooed alongside some of the other girls.

Their homeroom teacher could only sigh, carefully tucking away the lunch box into his work desk as he partially ignored their scattered comments. “Lucky or not, you all should have your notes out and study. Your test scores from last week clearly tell me I haven’t given enough in class work time. Do I have to cut down on our outside training hours?” The instant shuffling of paper and pencils brought a small smirk to his face. Nothing got his students off his back faster than less training hours. As he took attendance and organized his schedule, the small peeks at the lunch box reminded him about his last encounter with his….coworker.

“Midoriya is such a strange boy you know? I’m surprised his quirk doesn't instantly tear his body apart every time he uses it. I’m glad he’s getting a handle on it, I hated seeing him hurt himself so often.” You were sat cross legged in your office chair, typing away at your laptop underneath a bright desk lamp.

“I agree, he needs to learn how to use his body with his quirk.”

“Exactly!- Well, it looks like his rate of injuries compared to training has decreased. Based off of Recovery Girls records, his quirk usage deteriorated his arm muscle effectiveness. This means he’s got to either limit his usage on his arms, or learn how to use the rest of his body to compensate.” Rubbing your eyes shifted your reading glasses off of your face, exposing the bags that were starting to grow underneath them.

“You shouldn’t be getting such heavy bags under your eyes like that, you’re too young for those (L/n).” He always notices them, no matter how well hidden.

“Ya, okay GRAMPS. You’re not that much older than me and YOUR eyes are just as bad, if not worse. And call me (y/n), we’re friends aren't we?”

Rolling his eyes, Aizawa gets up with a huff to pour some coffee from the nearby coffee pot. “Midoriya is your last report tonight right? Go home, you’ve got Hero Strategy classes tomorrow.” as if on cue, he hands you the cup of warm coffee while you reach out for it with a quiet “Thank you”.

The way you hold the cup in your hands and let the warm steam brush against your face leaves him staring at you with a soft look.

“I guess I could leave a little earlier than I thought....” blowing cool air onto the coffee, you slowly take a sip of the warm beverage. Every time you see that look on his face, you can’t help but wonder what he’s feeling.

After a short while, you both clean up and close the office up. It’s 1 AM and both of you are more than ready to get at least a few hours of sleep in. Like usual, he walks you halfway to your home before bidding his own goodbye.

“Goodnight (L/n).” As Aizawa turns to walk away, he feels a small tug at his sleeve.

“I uh-” Turning to look around, he sees you with pinker cheeks underneath a streetlight. How do you always look so...nice? No matter the light you always look nice.

You slowly slid your hand down his arm to gently hold onto his hand. It was so soft, not just the hold but your skin. You couldn't even look at him but your voice was clear as day.

“Thank you, for staying with me. I know how tired you must be too….so I feel honored that you decide to spend your important time with me- er, to help me. You’re a great teacher and man Aizawa. Good night.” Just as quick as the moment had started, your touch was gone and you made your way home.

He was alone, yet he could still feel your touch on his skin. Aizawa stood there for minutes, looking at his hand in awe and strange curiosity. His coworkers and friends told him multiple times, “You two aren’t a thing?”, “It’s obvious that you fancy her Shouta.”,

“She has to feel the same, you don’t see how she looks at you when you aren’t paying attention.”

The school bell alerting the start of their first class was what pulled Aizawa out of his mind, looking up to see (y/n) walk into the class with your information tablet. ‘Ah, right. Hero Strategy.’ “Good Morning class! Great to see you all again.” She was chipper as always, her makeup easily covering her endeavors from the night before. The young teacher wore simple black tights with her training sweat jacket, everyone murmured in excitement because this meant that there would be out of class training and demonstrations Rubbing his exhaustion from his face, the black haired male stands up to go stand near (y/n). “You all have ten minuets to change and get to the field. Any longer and you’ll be stuck in cleaning duty for the week.”

Iida is quick to stand and grab his fellow classmates attention. “Quickly but in order, please gather your things and head to the gym! No RUNNING!” As valiant as his efforts were, everyone rushed out of the class in fear of being put into the cleaning crew while it was out of their turn.

The small smile he saw on your face was sobering, calmly following behind you as you made your way to the gym.

Usually, Aizawa would sneak into his sleeping back and nap during other teachers' lessons. These ones were different for him. He would sit off to the side and observe how you worked with the kids.

While some students could take simple suggestions and immediately apply them, others needed physical examples. You were more than happy to adapt to all their needs as they all trained with their new plans and teachers notes. While Tokoyami nodded and talked with Dark Shadow about your observations, Uraraka carefully mimicked your moves as you slowly countered her attacks explaining how they affected her opponent's momentum even more.

He knew you were a natural when it came to children and hero work. The obvious proof was right in front of him. That and he was nine years older than you, yet you both were doing almost the exact same job. That's where everything starts to blur for him.

After a quick practice round with Shoji, a rundown with Bakugo about his quirk usage along with Midoriya and the rest of the class, their first class of the day was over.

The rest of the day went normal, and (Y/n) left to finish the rest of her lessons while Aizawa did the same.

After a long week, you were more than happy to have the weekend to yourself, or so you thought.

Incoming Call: Keigo <(‘v’)>

“Keigo?”

“Hey tiny, sorry to bother but I felt like I should call in and see how you were doing.”

“I’m fine, just getting ready to watch some movies and order take in. Had a long week. You?”

“Gonna be heading out to an event soon! Glad to hear you're doing good. Any luck with your crush on the office grandpa?”

You roll your eyes as you wiggle yourself into more blankets, clicking through the different documentaries you could find on YouTube.

“I don’t have a crush on Aizawa, and even IF I did he is NOT a grandpa. He would probably want someone closer to his age anyway. The whole life experience gap and everything.”

“Yeah okay, whatever. Don't get mad at me when you realize I’m right and you're missing out on not being single anymore.”

“You’ll be the first person I call when you’re actually right. ” “Ouch-”

“Pfft, talk to you later Kei. I have an hour long video about the origin of heroes and it’s calling my name.”

“Bye bye!”

No matter how relaxed you were or how interesting the documentary was, you couldn't get you know who out of your mind. Could you have a crush on Aizawa Shouta? Silver Fox hero of the night? Grumpy man who likes taking naps in the middle of the day? You couldn’t lie, he was attractive and his personality was more than pleasant to you at least. It always felt like something was there between you two..between late night talks and having lunch together sometimes. It felt like there was a connection, and the only thing keeping you two from connecting was a waterfall of hesitation and doubt.

“Whatever…”

“WoooOO! Staff Party, this is gonna be a blast Listeners! Present Mic here to keep your evening thrilling with an amazing music selection!”

Upbeat music with minimal words played through the old speakers of a rented out ballroom. It was the end of the first semester staff party, everyone was dressed semi formal with their hair done nicely and makeup to match. The decorations were nice, and tables were laid out with food, drinks and chairs to relax and chat.

Aizawa was one of the first to show up since he and Yamada came together like usual. Although he socialized with other teachers as they passed by, he stayed closer to the walls and talked with Kayama most of the time. He was dressed fairly well, a simple fitted dark g suit coat with normal slacks. The usually wild and wavy mess of locks was neatly tied back into a very clean half knot that showed off his handsome face.

“No date Shouta? I was sure that pretty young thing would be with you tonight. (L/n) Right, she’s such a lovely girl.” Kayama’s hair was curled beautifully around her, a long fitted dress with a deep V cut showing off her lovely charm. Aizawa only rolled his eyes, sipping on his Champaign class to avoid talking even if it was just for a second more.

“It would make more sense for her to come in with someone closer to her age or with a friend. She is the youngest person on staff you know.”

“Age this age that blah blah BLAH. I know love when I see it-”

“Not love, this isn’t some romance film Nemuri.”

With a small and understanding smile, Nemuri reaches out to gently pat her dear friend's shoulder. “Someday, you’re going to realize that the things that are holding you back are nothing but a reflection of your own worries. I know you’ll figure it out. You both will. Now try to have fun-” Her attention was stolen away for a moment, a glint of excitement in her eyes clear as day. “If you’re worried about how she feels and how she’s doing, why don't you go show her around and make sure she feels welcomed?”

Turning around, the first thing Aizawa see’s is you. A cheesy thing to say, but he almost feels his heart skip a bit.

You wore a black turtleneck underneath a midnight blue spaghetti strap dress that fit you just right. Knitted knee high socks and stylish black heel boots finished off your look along with a beautiful pearl pendant necklace. Your hair looked soft and styled in a way he had never seen it before. Your eyes were done up just enough in a way that made them shine even more than they usually do.

He’s trapped, and he is slowly realizing that he never wants to be set free.

When your eyes scan the room for anything familiar, they finally land on a set of eyes that are looking right back at you. You have to stop yourself from visibly gasping, why did his eyes feel so intense? What was he thinking as he made his way across the room to you.

Like Moses and the sea, everyone carefully parted to let you both have your moment. They all knew the chemistry between you too, and were more than happy to leave you alone as they carried on with their conversations and laughter.

“You look beautiful.” His voice was low, and held a sense of hesitant tenderness even he was unsure of. You knew he meant it.

“And you look very handsome, you even shaved for the party.” With a small laugh you gently ran the back of your fingers across his shaved cheek. This wasn't new, you had done this exact touch multiple times before when you made fun of his stubble yet- it felt more intimate than it ever had before. Aizawa knew he didn't mind it.

Carefully sliding his hand into yours, he lifts it up to press a soft and long kiss to your knuckles. “It is a special occasion. Would you like to join me tonight?” He was never a man who cushioned his words, straight to the point and expressing just how he felt was never an issue. You were different.

Accepting his offer, you move to accept his offered arm. The night starts slow as you both walk around and chat with other faculty members you work with. With Aizawas help you were confident that you were able to make some new friends, maybe going to this party wasn't so bad after all.

Everything else almost felt like a breeze. Laughs were shared, drinks were drank- and barriers were being broken down. You and Aizawa found yourselves slowly standing closer and closer together, close enough to where your fingers would brush against each other when one of you moved. All of Pro Hero Eraserhead’s friends could only watch with warm and excited smiles for him.

Like always, nights must always come to an end.

While some people left to retire for the night, others stayed longer to help clean or help more than drunk coworkers make it home safe. “I’m helping Nemuri make it home Sho! You gonna be okay making it back tonight?” Yamada had Nemuri balancing into his side, laughing as she drunkenly waved some of the others goodbye. “Oh! You all can head back home together if you’d like. I’m just helping clean a bit before I head back home.” you politely cut into their little chat, holding a medium sized black trash bag in your hands.

Taking a moment, Aizawa starts to shrug off his coat as he takes the garbage away from you. “I’ll stay behind to help clean. If you’re alright with it I can walk you home.” with wide eyes, the younger teacher could only nod before she turned away to hide her reddening cheeks to pick up more trash and plates.

“No worries, now get em TIGEr. RaaArW-” As Kayama tried to cheer her friend on, Yamada tugged her away with an amused laugh of his own.

Not even an hour later, everyone was out and the sky was as dark and it could be. The only stars you could see were the large ones as the light pollution shrouded out the smaller and weaker stars.

This time around, Aizawa's coat was wrapped around (y/n) shoulders, her head resting on him as they linked arms on the walk back to her house. Instead of splitting off halfway, he walks her all the way up to her front door. It was silent for a moment, the events from tonight silently washing over them.

“Thank you Aizawa, this...was a really nice night. I don't think it would have been as enjoyable as it was without you.” (y/n) broke the silence, turning to face and look up at the man she knew she would never look at the same again. Rubbing his mouth in thought, his eyes flicker between the young woman standing in front of him and the road.

“I want to thank you as well. I-.” He paused for a moment.

“I would like to kiss you, but I understand if you wouldn't. I think after tonight you know what my feelings are for you. I didn't even know about them fully until tonight. Kayama- Midnight was right. I was letting my worries hold me back when I should have been forward like I always am-”

Time freezes when he feels your hands pull down his face, your lips eagerly pressing into a kiss with such raw love and desperation. Instantly his arms move around to gently lift you up into him. One minute, two..three. You both only break apart for air and your warm breaths mingle against each other. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now I think. My friend was right haha...maybe I do have a crush on you. I was just worried because I had no idea if you would even be interested in a relationship, let alone with someone as...young as me. I feel like a high schooler again haha.”

The fact that you were able to laugh the way you did and still hold him in your arms brought flutters to his chest. He knew now that he more than just saw you as a coworker or a close friend. He wants to be more. “I know what you mean. Who would want to be with someone as old as me? I would never want to make you feel like I was holding you back.” He would never admit it, but he felt like a young adult experiencing love for the first time...it was a bit embarrassing (in a good way.)

“You make me feel so helpless sometimes you know that?” pulling his head down again, (y/n) presses another soft kiss to Aizawa’s forehead. “What am I gonna do with you Aizawa?”

“Shouta.”

“Huh?”

“Shouta, call me Shouta if you want.” Thankful that it was dark out, he could feel himself heat up at the intimate suggestion.

With the way your eyes sparkled while you said his name, he knew he was hooked. There is no going back. “What am I gonna do with you, Shouta?”

“You’ll figure it out eventually. I’ll help you along the way as long as you’ll help me too.” The shared silence was an unbroken promise to do the best you both can.

After sharing your final kiss good night, you watch Shouta walk down the street and out of view before returning into the comfort of your home. The jacket around your shoulders smelt strongly of the stoic man you now called yours. Enjoying the warmth and comfort his coat brought you, kicking off your boots you hop over your couch and settle into a comfortable position.

Calling: Keigo <(‘V’)>

“WHY are you calling me at….2 in the MORNING. You gave me a damn heart attack-”

“You were right.” your voice was soft and held no regrets.

“Right? Right about what?”

“You were right, I did have feelings for Shouta. I said you would be the first person to call if you were right. And well, you were right.” The next hour was spent catching your best friend up on everything that happened tonight.

On the other side of the story, Aizawa finally made it home and had no problem finding sleep that night. He felt as ease knowing that things weren't going to turn out as bad as he thought it originally was going to be.

He can't say it, not yet.

But he is in love.

And so are you.

#bnha #oneshot #bnha imagines #aizawa x y/n #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #bnha x reader #pro hero x reader #aizawa fluff #shouta aizawa #bnha fanfiction #eraserhead x y/n #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero academy x reader

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sapphire374 · 3 years ago

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Soy Sol: Chapter 16 (Invisible String)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch.10 / Ch.11 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.15 / Ch.17

It’s the day of the competition. The gang gathers at the competition’s building. Jazmín holds her tablet in the air, recording every moment for her channel. Half of them are at the building while the other half are still at the hotel. “Luna, are you coming with us?” Yam asks. “I’ll catch up I just forgot my necklace,” Luna yelped. She rushed to her hotel room and grabbed the necklace off the nightstand. When she heads out, she slips and falls.

When Luna gets back up, she sees a bloody scratch on her knee. A woman from the guest relations desk comes running towards her, “oh you poor thing, you have hurt yourself,” she says. “Yeah, but it’s okay I’ll be fine,” Luna comments. “Oh, don’t be modest, you need help. Well my name is Alice Balsano,” the lady says. That’s when it hits Luna, it’s Matteo’s mom. No wonder her face looked so familiar for Luna. “Oh um nice to meet you, I’m Luna,” Luna sticks out her hand and Ms. Balsano shakes it.

“Oh, I can’t believe I’m meeting the infamous Luna. You look just as beautiful as how Matteo described you. Here I’ll quickly get the ice bucket and wrap your knee up in a bandage. You’ll be at the competition in no time.” Mrs. Balsano guides Luna to a nearby chair and elevates her leg. She was able to find a worker and tell them of the situation. They waited together for the concierge to come back with the ice and bandages.

“It’s a pleasure getting to know you, Luna. My son, he’ll probably hate me for saying this but he really loves you. He’s truly in love, I’ve never seen him like this ever before,” she confided. “I appreciate all the information, but Matteo and I are in a rough patch right now. I don’t feel comfortable talking about it,” Luna admits.

“I know, he told me but Luna, if you don’t mind me asking, I’m confused. If you forgave him and know he did all those mistakes, well I know my son can make stupid decisions sometimes but we’re all human, then why are you still upset at him?” Mrs. Balsano questions curiously.

“I’m not upset at him, it’s just that we always end up in some conflict or drama. Since we deal with so many issues together, I couldn’t help but think maybe we’re not compatible. Maybe we’re not meant to be together,” Luna confesses. “This isn’t me saying for you to get back with my son because that’s right, you should be the one to make that decision on your own, but I will give you some advice for life. In any relationship you’re in, you will always encounter conflicts and issues no matter what. Life is not perfect and this isn’t something you can avoid. For example, my husband and I just had a silly argument about the broken steering wheel in our car. It’s normal but I still love him and always will. That’s how true love is, going through different obstacles but life still bringing you back to that one person. It’s okay if you go through things as long as you go through it together with your partner. Going through hardships isn’t something you can avoid with anyone but at least you can go through them with the person you love.”

Luna stayed quiet for a moment. She couldn’t help but realize that Ms. Balsano had a point. That all relationships aren’t perfect but it’s worth it when you’re with the one you love most. “You’re right. It’s like an invisible string, I keep going back to him because we’re meant to be together.” The worker arrives with the bandage, ice, and wipe. They clean off the wound and wrap her knee. Luna grabs her backpack with skates and runs away. She returns right after to give her thanks. “Oh, I forgot to say thank you Mrs. Balsano, that was great advice. Also, thanks guys for the bandages and stuff,” Luna waves goodbye and runs to the competition building. “Good luck on the competition,” Mrs. Balsano yells out.

Luna arrives just in time to get dressed. “Luna where were you? Everyone was worried,” Nina stated. “Yeah, I got worried that maybe Tino and Cato kidnapped you too,” Simón joked.

“Don’t worry, I’m here and better than ever,” Luna exclaims. The gang is all dressed up in their attire. They all hold hands waiting for their name to be called next. Luna holds Matteo’s hand to his surprise, which leads to a beaming expression.

The announcer calls for the Jam and Roller. Simón, Nico, and Yam all walk on the stage and align themselves for the performance. The skating team enter the rink and get into positions. Juliana views from the corner and shows how proud she is of them. They truly worked really hard for this moment and prepared more than ever. The stakes are high knowing they all have to win for the Jam and Roller.

When the Roller Band begins to sing, Luna starts off with her routine. The plot is that the members are all statues in a museum and Luna is the one who wakes them all up. As she glides around every member, they all start skating doing the tricks. Nina sees them all from the audience and nostalgia rushes over her seeing how some of the tricks were ones they use to do back then. Luna and Matteo nod at each other before doing the Fire Serpent.

Gastón and Matteo lift Emilia and Ámbar up in the air as Luna’s turn comes up where she does a triple axle spin around them. The team’s choreography stuns the audience and everyone is in awe. Once the team finishes, they get a standing ovation.

They enter backstage again all chanting the words “Jam and Roller!” They all high five each other as Juliana enters. “You guys, whatever score you all get tonight just know I’m extremely proud of you all. You guys got together and worked hard like never before to save the Jam and Roller.” They all go in a group hug. Luna takes Matteo to the side and try to talk to him in private.

“Look Matteo, recently I’ve been confused on why we always end up running into some stupid drama or conflict. That’s why I needed my space but then a good friend gave me some incredible advice and that is this will always happen. Crazy obstacles that will try to break us apart but we have what the infamous Taylor would say, our invisible string always makes my path cross into yours. We’re meant to be,” Luna exclaims.

“You have no idea how fast my heart is beating right now. Whoever gave you that advice, I owe them my life. Luna, I love you and always will. Nothing is going to stop me from loving you. I was an idiot and didn’t listen to you but that doesn’t mean we’re incompatible. That just means it’s another conflict we shall have to resolve together. I will always say that you are La Luna but you shine like the sun. You bring forth light to my world and now I can’t live without it,” Matteo declares.

“Matteo I’m sorry too, in being a little harsh and avoiding you. I shouldn’t have run away from my problems and instead face them,” Luna apologizes. “Luna te amo, mi chica delivery,” Matteo proclaims. “Te amo, mi chico fresa.” Luna and Matteo press their lips against each other. She holds his neck while he holds her waist. Their kiss feels like it lasts forever.

“Should we interrupt them saying they’ve called the team up to hear the results,” Gastón asks Nina. “I think we should just let them be. They’ve gone through enough already,” Nina chuckles.

The Jam and Roller enter the rink all holding hands waiting for the scores to be called out. The presenter announces that…….

The Jam and Roller is the WINNER! The whole gang don’t stop screaming their cheers of joy and jump up and down. “Okay I think now is when we should interrupt them,” Gastón exclaims to Nina. He heads to Luna and Matteo and tell them the great news. Luna is blushed and feels embarrassed knowing Gastón had let them in their long kiss instead of telling them to go to the rink.

They all celebrate winning the prize money and having the Jam and Roller saved. A mysterious man approaches Luna though and hands her a card. “I saw what you did out there. It was impressive. How would you feel if I offered you a spot in our Olympic team?” Luna is shocked with the news the strange man has presented to her. Matteo nods to Luna. “It’s your dream Luna, you love skating,” Matteo stated. “I’ll consider it.” Luna responds and takes the card the man handed to her. The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that she can compete sometimes while at other times accompany Matteo to his concerts. They would just have to manage their schedules for each other but it’s doable.

Jim and Ramiro all hug Yam. “At least we got to share our last times seeing each other on a happy note,” Jim suggested. “Don’t forget to facetime us at least twice a day and tell us how it’s all going okay,” Ramiro said. Yam nodded while wiping the tears falling on her face, she has to leave to Los Angeles right when they arrive back to Buenos Aires. “Don’t worry guys, nothing will separate us we’ll always stay united forever.”

Later that evening

“Close your eyes,” Matteo says. “But I do have them closed,” Luna whines. “No, I still see you peaking,” Matteo chuckles. He guides Luna, who has a bandana wrapped around her eyes, to a beach. When he takes the blindfold off, there’s a table with food nicely placed on top. He even included some strawberries and medialunas on the side. Her favorite dish is laid nicely as the main course and the table is beside the sea. The area is surrounded with canopies and fairy lights. It all looks like a dream.

“Wow Matteo, this all looks so beautiful,” Luna in awe with the whole place. Matteo faces her and says his speech.

“Luna, from the moment I met you and we bumped in Cancun, my life hasn’t been the same ever since. You have come into my life like a hurricane, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. You changed everything and made me the man I am today. I have been so lucky to be in your presence and got to see that beautiful smile every day. You are the sun roller skating around all of Buenos Aires, your unmistakable presence has everyone blown away, including me. (Matteo gradually gets on one knee) I knew for the longest that I want to spend every second of every minute of every day of my life with you. That has never changed, but I want it for sure. I want you to know that I will always be here for you. So, Luna Valente, would you be the sun, or should I say the moon to my night sky?” Luna gasps seeing Matteo propose. She covers her mouth in shock and doesn’t stop crying. She nods. “Yes! Yes! Yes,” she screams out. He carries her in bridal style while spinning her around and round.

Gastón and Nina come out from behind the bushes. Gastón is holding a camcorder and filmed everything. When Matteo lets go of Luna, she is surprised to see them two there. “Oh wow Gastón, I didn’t know you turned into Jazmín,” Luna joked. “No, I did him the favor of videotaping everything since he wanted this memory saved. I, of course, said yes since now I have actual evidence of him crying. He always bragged about how he ‘never cries,’” Gastón jokes. “Oh and Mr. Balsano how did you know I was going to say yes?” Luna questions.

“It’s too late to back out now Mrs. Balsano, plus I knew you couldn’t resist the charm,” Matteo chuckled. Gastón starts zooming in on Matteo. “Oh please bud, you’re over here crying a river of tears more than Luna. Yeah, some irresistible charm I see,” Gastón laughs.

They all group together for a hug as a family. The rest of the Jam and Roller gang interrupt their celebration and join them in the fun. “Also Matteo, how did you get my dad’s permission to propose?” Luna asks.

“Let’s just say your mom had to do a lot of convincing for me,” Matteo responds.

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bedbellyandbeyond · 4 years ago

Photo

Wolfman’s Dilemma

(Story Post)

Dax was still at work when Wano called him, so he called the doctor’s office to ask if someone could check on his partner before he could get home. Reid volunteered to make a house call as soon as he heard about Nathan's incident. Nathan was still shaken by his partial transformation. He had gone to lie down after a shower like Wano had suggested, but he couldn't rest well. When Reid did arrive, he sat with him in his bedroom and Nathan had a hard time explaining to the doctor exactly what happened because he didn't want to try to remember. “Well, this all sounds like it would be pretty upsetting, so I understand this isn't easy for you,” Reid comforted, after receiving all the details he could. “But if you think about it, this could be a sign of progress.” “No, I know…” Nathan mumbled, wrapped up in a blanket. “I just don’t like the connotations. If my anger is what made that happen, then that could mean I'm very dangerous. More so than ever.”

“We don't know that,” Reid stated, rubbing Nathan's arm. “We don't truly know what caused any of this to happen and unfortunately, yourself and Wano were the only ones witness to it.” “So, then what? Am I supposed to try to make it happen again?” Nathan asked. “Well, not if you don't want to,” Reid explained. “But, it might be best to keep an eye on you for a week or two in case it does occur again involuntarily.” “So, you mean staying at APID,” Nathan sighed. “Even when I'm off wolf cycle…” “I consulted with Dr. Aias before coming here and that was their suggestion, yes,” Reid admitted. Nathan rubbed his forehead. “I guess it's not really a cycle if I start turning into a wolf thing in the middle of the day on off days…” “Again, it's your choice, Nathan,” Reid insisted. “Camilo's coming by as well to talk to you as this pertains to your case. He might make other suggestions for you.” Nathan nodded. His phone went off and he checked it. “Dax just got off work and he's coming straight home…” “That's great,” Reid commented. “And your language suggests the relationship is pretty serious. I'm glad it's working out.” “My language?” “Aye, you said he's coming home,” Reid said. “You have separate residences, don't you?” “Yeah, well… I can't handle the twins on my own, it's too much, and I don’t know what I was thinking when I offered for Wano to stay here,” Nathan said. “Dax has been…the glue keeping this hell house together and keeping me from going insane. I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't around.” Reid smiled and shook Nathan's shoulder enthusiastically. “See? I knew you two would be good for each other. Aren't you glad you went for it?” Nathan chuckled lightly. “I suppose I am… I guess I just didn't feel like I deserved someone new yet… And I feel bad dragging him into this whirlwind of a life I have right now.” “Nathan, you're a bit too selfless,” Reid commented. “Dax wouldn't be with you if he didn't want to be. The people around you are around you because they like and care about you.” “I know, I know… I just...” Nathan sighed. “No, you're right.” “Anyhow, I can stay until Dax or Camilo arrives, however long you'd like,” Reid said. “Wano seems to be doing well with the twins. Is he a good babysitter?” “Yeah, they love him,” Nathan said. “I think it might be maybe the depth of his voice? I don't know. He follows instruction well enough and he loves to play with them. Maybe he'll be a good dad… Did he explain why we got into an argument?” Reid nodded slowly. “Aye… Trying to make a wee one before he's gone. I can understand your frustration. Wouldn't want that happening under my roof, if I had one.” “Right? I get that he's an adult and he can do what he wants, but also I'm partially responsible for him because I'm letting him stay here,” Nathan said. “If Jeffrey gets pregnant, I have no idea how that'll complicate Wano's case to stay here.” “Well, at the end of the day, these really are things that should concern Wano himself more than you,” Reid reminded. “You’re doing a really nice thing, letting him stay here with you but you don't have to shoulder all his problems. They're not yours and you're not his father.” “I know, you're right,” Nathan sighed again. “I just want to see him get to stay here. He's worked hard to stay. He's improved a lot.” Reid smirked as he observed Nathan. “You know, the wolf might have something to do with this. Sometimes animals who've just given birth will adopt newborns of other species, even if they're an animal they'd usually pray on, like a lioness adopting an oryx, or vice versa, a chicken adopting a kitten. Only for you, your adopted newborn is a full-grown adult alien from another planet.” “I can't help it if he has the emotional intelligence of a twelve-year-old,” Nathan said. “But it's even more reason he shouldn't be having a kid!” “You can't make that decision for him, though,” Reid said. “And you can't make that decision for Jeffrey either. At the very least, one of them has experience as a parent…” “From what I've heard though, his cousin does most of the caregiving…” Nathan mumbled. “Och, you need to stop concerning yourself with them,” Reid said. “You can put your foot down about what goes on in your house, but outside of that, you can't be meddling in their business.” Nathan nodded. “…I bet Jeffrey’s pregnant already anyway…” Reid rubbed his back. “Come downstairs for when Camilo arrives. Eat something. I’d like to see the wee twins again. How're they holding up?” “They're alright…” Nathan said getting up. “I probably should feed them, but Grace refuses to nurse unless she's a pup, but she bites me…” Reid followed him. “Do you pump?” “I do, but they refuse to take bottles from me,” Nathan said. “Dax? Wano? No problem because they have no other choice. But me, all they want is tit. Am I going to have breasts my whole life now?” “We can worry about that later, and you can take my word from personal experience that breast tissue can be dealt with,” Reid assured, chuckling a bit. “Ah, right… Yeah, I guess,” Nathan considered. “Anyway, Wano should be playing with the twins right now… He lets them bite his arms and legs and stuff because he thinks it'll toughen them up but I'd rather he didn't normalise it… I'll show you.” “Aye. Please.” They got downstairs and Nathan broke up the playfighting so Reid could take a look at the twins. They both turned to human for him which he was a bit unhappy about because he really liked to study their animal sides, but he acknowledged that it was good training that they remain human in the presence of strangers. Camilo arrived a little later and they talked in the kitchen while Wano showed off the twins to Reid in the living room. Nathan explained everything he could to Camilo about what had happened. “That is a very new development indeed,” Camilo commented as he took notes into a tablet. “We haven't seen any kind of half transformation like this… Have you asked Nari yet if he knows of werewolves like that?” “He's away on a vacation right now,” Nathan said. “I don't want to bother him with this at all until he's back…” Camilo nodded. “I understand… Well, right now since this is a one-time incident, I don't know that there's much we can do. But, now that we know it's possible, I'd ask you and those around you to video document this type of transformation if it should happen again.” “So, you don't think I should be watched?” Nathan asked. “Well, I don’t know that it's absolutely necessary, but if that's what you want, you could stay a few nights at APID,” Camilo considered. “It's up to you.” Nathan shook his head. “I want to stay home... But only if you really think it's safe.” Camilo patted Nathan's arm. “You didn't hurt anyone, you just transformed. Since having your wolf cycle nights at APID, we haven't observed any violent behaviour at all, only a bit of protective behaviour towards your kids.” “Dax said the wolf bit Dr. Aias once,” Nathan said. “Ah, well yes, but that was just because they needed to draw blood,” Camilo acknowledged. “Wasn’t that the night of Wano’s incident?” “Yes, it was…” Nathan sighed, not enjoying the thought. “Right, it’s possible you could tell your friend was in trouble that night and you were restless. Wolves have exceptional sense of smell. You might’ve smelled blood,” Camilo hypothesised. “You're really okay. Seems as long as the wolf is well fed, they don't hunt.” Nathan exhaled. “Okay… Yeah… Thanks.” “Don't worry,” Camilo assured him. “Your support system is great, and we aren't afraid of you. Everyone is here to help you.” “I get it, I just wish I knew someone else who was going through all this like me,” Nathan said. “I at least had Kent for a hot second, but now I have no one… My kids aren't even the same as me They just transform whenever they please.” Camilo pursed his lips. “Well, maybe you're not alone…” Nathan perked up. “Is there someone else? With APID? Another werewolf? Or were-anything?” “Well, no… I just meant, um…” Camilo waved a hand. “Well, you know, there's the wolf we caught on your bodycam that night.” “Oh." Nathan frowned. “But they attacked me. I still have the scars.” “Yes, but if we tracked them down, we might have answers for you,” Camilo suggested. “Well, maybe… I don't, know. I feel like we tried that lead and it got me nowhere. And pregnant.” “Yeah…” Camilo folded his hands. “But if we could find someone with a similar affliction as you willing to talk with you, you would want that, right?” “Yes, if it's possible, yes,” Nathan said. “The only person I know that's as close to my condition as me is Dax but his thunderbird situation is still very different.” Camilo nodded. “Okay. Can you come in for a meeting tomorrow? I want us to talk more about your options, but I also want to consult with Korsgaard about some stuff beforehand.” “Yeah, for sure,” Nathan said nodding. “Honestly, I talk to you so much, I forget Korsgaard’s my actual case worker…” “Yeah, he does do a lot of work behind the scenes, but he's looking into potentially retiring soon,” Camilo admitted. “I think he's holding out until Maya's grown.” “I get it,” Nathan said. “Do you think you'll take his place?” “Honestly, I don't really know,” Camilo said. “I mean, I like it, and it's been great work while I've been in school, but once I finish my PhD, I might look around… I want to stay at APID though.” Nathan smirked. “PhD classes, a job like this, and a baby at home? Are you sure you're only human?” Camilo smiled sheepishly and rubbed his neck. “I'm just trying my best…” “I could never…” He motioned to the living room where Wano was flexing with the animal twins gnawing on his arms. Reid was just sitting by, taking notes of his observations. “I can't imagine trying to get through my masters when I was your age if I had these two on my hip…” “Should we do something?” Camilo asked worriedly. “No, Wano likes it,” Nathan said. “He calls it ‘warrior play’. It's been really difficult trying to train bite inhibition and I’m so tired all the time, it's easier to just let them do whatever exhausts them…” “I see. It'll take time,” Camilo said. “Have you talked to Yori about it? They might not be exactly the same, but there's likely some issues he's had with the triplets.” “Yes, trust me, Dax has learned a lot from having the triplets in his class,” Nathan recounted. “The very first day of school, Skylar bit a kid that touched her granola bar and later Marco ate his own homework. We've been in contact with Yori's partners, because the kids just seem to fall in line for Yori without much trouble.” “Oh, I see…” At that time, the front door opened, and Dax came inside looking worried. “Nathan, I’m sorry I couldn't leave sooner!” Nathan got up from his seat and went over to hug Dax around the waist. “It's okay. Reid and Camilo have been here to talk to me.” “Ah, good! Are you alright?” Dax looked over his partner for traces of the transformation described to him over the phone. “You look okay, but are you?” “Yeah, I'm fine now,” Nathan said. “Talking to these guys has calmed my nerves a lot and the transformation didn't last more than a minute.” Dax nodded. “Good.” He kissed his forehead. “I’m glad you're okay. And the twins are alright?” “Yep, they're still their usual selves,” Nathan said, motioning to the pair now climbing onto Wano's back and jumping off like goat kids. “I think if anything, my transformation made them excitable.” “That probably makes sense, I think,” Dax said. “Reacting to your transformation I mean.” Reid got up and came over. “Nathan, if you don't need me any longer, I should probably head out.” Nathan nodded and shook Reid’s hand. “Yes, thank you for coming over on such short notice.” “Don't mention it,” Reid insisted. He patted Dax's arm. “Good to see you too, Dax.” “Likewise,” Dax said politely. “Drive safe.” “Aye.” Reid headed out the door. “I should probably get going too,” Camilo said. “Nathan, can we get you in for a meeting first thing at ten?” “Yeah, sounds good,” Nathan confirmed. “I'll see you there.” “Alright, see you,” Camilo said going to the door. “You take care of him, Dax. We're trusting you.” “Don't you worry, I'll be here,” Dax assured. Camilo smiled and waved. “Bye!” “See you tomorrow,” Nathan said as the assistant left. Dax went to see them off and then made sure the door was locked properly before going back to his partner. “Tomorrow, would you like me to join you?” Nathan looked at Dax and contemplated it. “Usually I'd say no, but if you can spare the time, I would appreciate it…” Dax smiled and kissed Nathan's forehead again. “I'll be there, don't worry.” “Thank you,” Nathan said. He took Dax's hand and squeezed it gently. “I appreciate you so much.” “Also on the phone,” Dax recalled. “Wano said you got upset because he’s trying to make a ‘legacy’ with Jeffrey.” He motioned the air quotes. “Do you want me to talk to him about that?” Nathan sighed, glancing over to Wano, now rubbing both twins’ bellies. “No… At least not tonight… Just let him be. It’s not our business at the end of the day. I made it clear though that he can’t have guests here without permission.” Dax nodded and gave Nathan a proper kiss this time. “You’re going to be alright.” “Thanks. I hope so…”

#lore #Nathan #Reid #Camilo #Dax #Wano #Grace #Gabriel #implied mpreg #werewolf #alien #werebear

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vegetalass · 5 years ago

Note

What about the RDR2 boys on a road trip?

Thank you so much for this fun request! As you can see.... I went a little crazy❤️✨😩

General

They fight about what snacks they should bring and end up forgetting them all

They all fart in the car and blame each other for it.

Literally ends up being the stinkiest ride ever and everyone wants to Die

The fighting about what’s played on the stereo is endless and someone is always unhappy about it

If they have to take two separate cars, Hosea switches up the groups so that no one is stuck with the same people for too long

If one car seats seven, Hosea and Dutch will take the other for themselves (smh)

I’m not gonna lie… literally all of them would pee in a bottle… how they feel about it is pretty different, though

Arthur

Can drive one-handed

Drives in silence, not because he likes silence but because everyone else is Too Loud and he needs a break

Tries to talk about the scenery but that’s boring and he gets ignored

Also gets ignored when he points out cool cars.. and cows… and license plates…

Even Charles can’t be bothered to respond

Backseat driver

Gets yelled at constantly for this but doesn’t stop

John gets it the worst

He doesn’t have road rage, just thinks that everyone is a bad driver

His favorite thing is to roll down all of the windows in the car

Rarely gets to do this because of how many complaint’s he’d get

Stops at every farm stand on the side of the road that he sees

After a while he doesn’t even need anything and just does it because he feels bad if he drives past them

The only thing he’ll eat while driving is chips

His clothes and seat get covered in crumbs

Wears his hat, jacket and boots in the car even though it’s hot and doesn’t make sense

Also probably buys one of those dangly pine trees to hang on his rearview mirror

Can’t read in the car because he gets carsick :(

Would he pee in a bottle? - Yes, but he doesn’t want to talk about it

John

If he’s not driving, he’s probably asleep

And if he’s not asleep, he’s “resting”

Honestly, he just doesn’t want to talk to anyone in that environment

The grumpiest one of them

He’s just mad (sad) because Abigail wouldn’t let him go with Ms. Grimshaw and the girls

Probably ends up spilling something and tries to blame it on whoever is sitting next to him

Spends most of his radio time just browsing through stations

When he finds anything he likes, it immediately goes to ads and the process starts all over again

Takes all his rest stops at 7/11 just so he can get a slushee and a hotdog

He’s okay with stopping at gas stations too but they’re just not the same

Takes off his shoes in the car and just wears his socks the whole ride

He probably drives like that, too

This is why Abigail didn’t let him go with them

Would he pee in a bottle? - Yes, but he’d be mad about it and would try to bring it up a lot

Charles

Plans out where and when he’s going to make stops

Probably does a few stretches and some jumping jacks when he gets out of the car

He will let the gang stop at McDonalds but only if he thinks they deserve it

The only thing he orders for himself is an ice cream cone

The safest driver out of everyone

So safe, in fact, that he’s always made to drive at night

He doesn’t mind much because everyone is pretty quiet when it’s late and that means less complaining

Makes a long playlist full of music like Sufjan Stevens and Mumford & Sons (and The Black Eyed Peas)

Everyone tries to clown him for it but he’s the King of brushing it off

“When it’s your turn, you can play what you want” or “I didn’t complain when you were playing 100gecs”

First of all: drag them…

Second of all: okay, Dad.

Talented because he can read in the car without getting carsick

Apologizes for everyone’s behavior when they go anywhere

Makes everyone use hand sanitizer after doing literally anything

They have to pass it around the car like little kids

It’s probably Bath and Body Works

Would he pee in a bottle? - Yes, but pretends that he wouldn’t

Micah

If he’s driving, he gets control of the radio. Doesn’t matter if it’s his turn or not, he gets Full Control.

If anyone even suggests changing what he’s playing, he snaps at them

Dummy probably smokes in the car

Dummy also probably eats while he drives

Holds his food while steering

Everything gets greasy

His rest stops are incredibly short

So short that they practically don’t exist

Threatens to drive off without people

The only time Dutch intervenes with his behavior is when he tries to pick up a hitchhiker

He’s like, “Look Arthur, it’s your long lost brother!”

He also probably tries to stop at a gentlemen’s club in the middle of nowhere at some point, too

“I could crash this car right now if I wanted to”

He only says this once though because it causes a riot

Backseat driver but only to Arthur

Sean swerving and Hosea speeding: I sleep

Arthur accidentally cutting someone off: REAL SHIT?

The only other one who gets to use the charging cord (because he’s mean and demands to)

Would he pee in a bottle? - He’s almost happy to

Hosea

Is never allowed to drive because he doesn’t like to make stops. He 100% will drive past every single rest stop and every single McDonalds they see

Everyone could be screaming at him to pull over and he’d just ignore them

Drives way too fast. Catch him going 90 MPH saying “I’m just going with the traffic!”

Everyone else: terrified

When it’s his turn for the radio, he chooses to play an audiobook

If you complain about being bored to him, he’ll try to get everyone to sing campfire songs

Everyone gets to about ninety-five bottles of beer on the wall before giving up and start fighting

He’s also the one to suggest playing “I Spy”

The gang will play but it’s all like

“I Spy something gross”

“Is it Micah’s butt crack?”

“Yes”

Has one of those mini electric fans that sprays water at you when you press a button

Doesn’t share it

Always has his phone plugged into the charger to the point where no one else can use it

Keeps a box of bubbly water under his seat

It’s lukewarm

He’s the only one who drinks it but he offers it to everyone 24/7

Would he pee in a bottle? - Yes, but only because he makes the other boys do it and he feels guilty

Dutch

Acts like everyone should be grateful he’s driving even though they’re all taking turns

Pulls the “You’re lucky I drove, I’m not a chauffeur!” card when someone is mean to him about anything

Music of choice is just Elvis Presley with a few random smooth jazz songs mixed in

“What do you boys know about this?”

Everyone: …

Complains about everything

If he’s not complaining about someone being irritating, he’s complaining about how hot it is, and if not that, there’s something else

Always thirsty and needs to have a drink with him at all time

Will only share it with Hosea or Arthur and lowkey neither of them want what he’s drinking

When he’s driving, makes everyone stop at a drive-through cafe where he orders the most expensive iced drink on the menu

Like Arthur, gets mad at people for “not enjoying the view”

“You boys are so lucky you get to experience the…” Blah, blah, blah

Ends up falling asleep but only because he wears a sleep mask and ear plugs

Probably listens to music on a walkman lmao

*Dutch in sunglasses and headphones* “Sorry I didn’t see you right there, I was too busy, mmm, blocking out the haters”

Would he pee in a bottle? - Yes, because he thinks it’s efficient

Kieran

Slowest driver of the bunch

And out of all of them, takes the most stops

Probably packs his own bag of snacks and it’s all fucking jellybeans and gummy bears

Says that they’re the easiest to eat while driving

Technically, that isn’t even a lie (Micah, please take notes)

He will stop anywhere anyone asks… Why is he so nice?

His favorite stop is Dunkin’ Donuts, though

The music he plays is either great or awful and no one can agree on which is which

Every other song is 2000s dance techno

That or Taylor Swift (and that’s when people start yelling at him to change it)

Spends the whole trip in slides and no one wants to sit next to him because of his exposed feet

He can (and will) drive in them, though

When he’s not driving, he’s probably watching a movie or playing games on a big ass tablet

Gets made fun of for using huge headphones

People are just jealous he’s able to find a wifi signal

Would he pee in a bottle? - He’s done grosser things for less, so yes

Javier

Brings himself a sandwich to eat and ends up sitting on it

Backseat driver energy but he’s better at restraining his comments than Arthur

That being said, if your driving is shitty, he will send you Vibes

Doesn’t bother much with searching for music and just ends up playing a few hour long YouTube mixes when it’s his turn for the radio

It’s either that, or Mexican radio for 2 hours (and he will sing along)

The only people who don’t complain about this are Charles and Arthur

Probably the only one out of all of them to make the gang go to an actual restaurant during his rest stop

It’s the first real meal any of them have had in like, three days, and suddenly they all feel better

They refuse to admit it, though

Clips his nails out the window at some point

Ties a bandana around his eyes and uses it as a sleep mask

*insert that picture of the guy with his face mask over his eyes on an airplane*

Also probably uses the bandana to block out the smell of farts when it gets especially stinky

Would he pee in a bottle? - He doesn’t want to, but his logic is that if everyone is doing it, why shouldn’t he?

Sean

His driving speed is normal but his driving skills are… Bad

He just isn’t paying attention honestly

Too busy talking

Probably tries to text and drive

Arthur takes away his phone after that

Also, did someone say road rage?

When it’s his turn for music, only plays nasty pop and rap

It’s fine at first, but the fourth time he plays “I Cry” by Flo Rida or “New Body” by Kanye and Nicki Minaj, everyone gets mad

Only takes rest stops at gas stations

And takes literally the longest stops out of all them

Probably spends the whole time telling the gas station cashier about how annoying everyone is

Everyone is like “kasjdfkhd” because they think he’s the annoying one and they’ve been waiting to leave for like ten minutes

Don’t sit next to him because he will sweat on you

If you share your drink with him, 50% chance he’ll backwash in it

When he’s not driving, he’s watching Tik Toks without headphones (if Arthur has given his phone back, that is)

Would he pee in a bottle? - Without hesitation

Bonus:

While the boys are all off fighting, Ms. Grimshaw packed the girls a picnic that they get to enjoy at a nice, camping rest stop

Molly speeds like the devil

She’s like Hosea, if not worse

Tilly made everyone a different playlist and they all take turns listening to them

Karen isn’t allowed to drive because she spiked her water bottle before leaving

Also isn’t allowed the aux cord because she will play inappropriate music or meme songs

Sadie pumps the gas and chooses all of the snacks for everyone

It’s a mixture of healthy treats and candy

Jack is the Squidward wearing sunglasses while sunbathing meme when John asks if he wants to ride “with the boys”

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 headcanons #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 #arthur morgan #bruh i went off #i had to go on a roadtrip a couple years ago and it was HELL so this was easy tho #im working late tomorrow but feel free to send me some ideas yall! i might not do them all but i love thinking about them❤️#also the format got fucked up so if its a lil messy i sowwy #shyhidingshadowgirl

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zmediaoutlet · 4 years ago

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in support of wildfire relief, @balder12 donated $20, and requested Sam/Kevin with hair play. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post.

Kevin feels he deserves a little better, than this. He doesn’t exactly—he wasn’t exactly used to booze, hadn’t ever really had a drink before he met the Winchesters that wasn’t the cherry schnapps his mom sometimes drank—and okay, so most of the time when he’s gotten drunk it’s been entirely on accident. But still. Whatever Dean drinks is some kind of weird dollar store swill (assuming they sell alcohol, at the dollar store, which to be fair he doesn’t know but he assumes that if they do then what Dean buys would be of that quality), and Kevin is a friggin Prophet of the friggin Lord, so if he’s going to be drinking then he should be drinking—he doesn’t know. Fine wines. Something laced with myrrh, whatever myrrh is. He was going to take Comparative Religions his first semester of college; he never got to find that out. He never got to go to college. Sam did.

Sam. That’s right. Kevin—he has a plan. He deserves better, he thinks. He’s been working on the tablet because that's his job, and he knows that he has a duty and he isn't going to shirk it. His mom had taught him better than that. Still, he thinks—as a Prophet—as a man, which he guesses he is—he shouldn’t just be… relegated to homework duty. Study session captain, providing all the notes. Even if the notes were triple-highlighted and with meticulous bullet points, and made sure that everyone in the group actually passed the exams. Or could take down heaven, or… whatever the hell the Winchesters have planned. He’s the brains behind the operation. He deserves a little something, for all the effort.

He’s pretty much finished the bottle Dean thought he’d hid. Kevin’s never had horse pee but he suspects that horse pee would be better. It’s a plastic jug, and it stings going down, but he needs some kind of courage and apparently the Winchesters are too cheap to keep myrrh-booze around. He finishes his cup and combs his hair, in front of the mirror in his room. His head feels like it’s bobbing at some long tether, past the end of where his neck should be. His lips feel numb. It’s kinda cool.

He doesn’t knock, at Sam’s room. When the door opens it’s dark and he bangs it into the wall. There’s a jolt, and in the light streaming in from the hallway he sees Sam twisted around, a gun in his hands, the blankets a mess. "What," Sam says, in that voice. Kevin smiles at him. Sam blinks. "Kevin. What?"

"Yeah," Kevin sighs, and crosses the room and crawls right up onto the bed, his limbs all heavy. Sam turns onto his back, surprised, meets him. Kevin’s in socks and sweatpants and the Harvard sweatshirt Dean had given him as a joke, except that Kevin actually loves it and wears it whenever he gets a chance, and Sam’s hands settle on his waist, gripping in through the soft fleecy crimson, holding him. Kevin sighs again, settles in. Sam’s lap, his bed. Firm as a rock, like Kevin’s, but—warm. ‘Cause Sam is there.

"Hey," Sam says, cautious, and Kevin makes a small noise and leans down, lassitude soaking through him from all that shitty shitty booze, and Sam tips his head up and meets the kiss, soft. Soft, but steady, and bracing. He’s like a colossus, Kevin thinks, distantly pleased. That was a good vocab word. The Colossus of Sam. He lips at Sam’s mouth and gets a slow breath, and Sam tipping his head so it’s in the right place, and the kiss is—easy, like that, because Sam makes it easy. His mouth, firm but yielding when Kevin asks, and he doesn’t make fun of Kevin for being shy, or for not—not really—knowing what he’s doing. His hands shift, on Kevin’s waist, slip over his back, over the Harvard sweatshirt. Under it, just the edge of his fingers, and Kevin smiles against his mouth and drops his head, the booze swirling steady and dragging as hard as gravity, pinning him into Sam’s lap, making him laugh.

"You’re in a good mood," Sam says. Smile in his voice. Sam, happy. That doesn’t happen too often. Another slow drag of hands, up his back, and Kevin sits back into them, lets Sam take his weight because he totally can. Door’s still open and there’s enough light in here that he can really see—Sam, in a black tee, his hair a little mussed from sleeping, his eyes on Kevin above him. "What's up?"

"I have a plan," Kevin says. He tries to make it sound serious but he doesn't feel all that serious. Sam's eyes narrow a little, looking at his face. "I think—"

"Are you drunk?"

"That," Kevin says, with dignity, "is not relevant."

"Wow," Sam says, "you really are," but he doesn't sound mad or anything. There's a dimple peeking, in his cheek.

They shift a little, Sam moving under his weight. Not that Sam seems to think his weight is any impediment. Kevin's knees spread on the rock-hard mattress and Sam ends up with his back firm against the headboard, his hands still laced easy around Kevin's waist, looking at him. He's an inch or two taller than Sam, sitting like this, and he laughs a little, enjoying it. The top of Sam's head is nice, who knew?

"You have a plan," Sam prompts him. The corner of his mouth keeps turning up, before he makes it go thoughtful again. "Let's hear it."

It feels distant right now. "Well," Kevin says, and drifts for a second. Sam's body is—it's not like he didn't know this, but Sam's body is—nice. Feels nice. He presses his hands against Sam's pecs and they flex, whether on purpose or not Kevin doesn't know but. Wow.

"Kevin."

"I think you should kiss me," Kevin says. Not what he meant to say.

"Is that the plan?"

He grips Sam's shirt, rolls his eyes. "I mean, it is now," and gets Sam to smile briefly before there's the lean up, a big hand between his shoulderblades to keep him balanced while Sam presses their lips together. Firm-and-yielding, and when Kevin's mouth parts on a little breath Sam tips his head and makes the kiss a little—more yielding, a little wet, enough that Kevin's belly already warm from the booze feels like someone turned it to boil.

"How's that," Sam says, when he pulls back. Soft. Smug. Shithead.

"You suck," Kevin says. Somehow his hands ended up in Sam's hair and he plays his fingers through it. It's soft. Sam showered, before he went to bed, and his hair's clean and probably conditioned and just… nice, like the rest of him. "I deserve more than this."

Sam sits still, letting Kevin tangle him up. "You do," he says.

Kevin tweaks a long wave, there at Sam's temple, focusing. The plan. "Yeah, I do," he says, like Sam was arguing. "I mean, I know I'm not like—whatever, hot or a—a stud or something, but I am a Prophet and I feel like I should get more than a kiss every once in a while. Anyway, I don't see anyone else around here that you could make out with, so you might as well—"

"Wait," Sam says, shaking his head, but Kevin does have a plan and he got drunk for this, okay, so he's not going to be interrupted.

"—and if you're like, holding back because I'm a virgin, you don't need to worry about that, all right, because I've read like a lot about it and I figured out my mom's kid-safe password for the internet when I was eleven, okay, so I know how it goes."

Sam's grip on his sides is tight and Kevin squirms. The hands go looser but Sam's staring at him. "You're—Kevin." Kevin makes a small noise. Duh, he's Kevin. Maybe Sam's drunk too. "Kevin, you're twenty."

"I'm twenty-one," he says, offended. Just because the Winchesters lose years all the time doesn't mean everyone else does. He drags his hands through Sam's hair again, sweeping it back from his face, and Sam's giving him this look that he doesn't really get. Sam looks at him a lot in ways he doesn't really get.

"Twenty-one," Sam says, after a few seconds. Kevin nods. "Sorry."

There's a pause, again. Kevin's comfortable, now he's said his piece. He plays with the ends of Sam's hair where they curl forward. It's really different to his, which pretty much just lays there unless Kevin experiments with products. Sam's got—body. Kevin glances down, where Sam's chest rises with his breath, and grins. Yeah, he's got body.

"When I—after that hunt. When I kissed you." One of Sam's hands slides to the center of his chest, right over where it says Harvard. "Was that the first time someone…?"

"I had a girlfriend," Kevin says.

"That's not an answer."

Sam's as bad as his debate coach used to be. "No," he says, exaggerating it, "it wasn't my first kiss." Might as well have been, because he and Channing hadn't been any good at it. Kissing was just wet and kinda gross, Kevin had thought, until a month ago when Sam had looked down at him with this glad proud look on his face after Kevin had given them the research they needed to figure out their hunt, and he'd said you really saved our asses, and Kevin had looked up at him and Sam's face had changed and he'd, very softly, touched Kevin's chin, and Kevin had felt like he'd lost his balance and Sam had looked back and forth between his eyes—like a movie, Kevin thought, dumb in the moment—and he'd dipped, and it had been…

Sam's hands are under his sweatshirt, now. Just holding his back, his thumbs idly stroking. "Tell me what you did with your girlfriend," he says, and it's just an easy suggestion but also it kinda sounds like Sam does sound, sometimes, when something's a suggestion but really it's an order. How he talks to Dean, when they're prepping a hunt.

Kevin's weirdly pleased to be on the other end of it. "Studied mostly," he says. It's just honest but for some reason Sam smiles. He cards his fingers through Sam's hair again. "And—well, I guess this, too." Sam raises his eyebrows, questioning, and Kevin says: "This. I used to braid her hair for her. For dance performances."

"Really," Sam says, and Kevin shrugs. He squirms closer, in Sam's lap, and loosens the fall of hair behind Sam's left ear. Yeah, there's enough. He tips Sam's chin so he has space and starts in. Sam laughs softly. "Okay. Uh—Kevin." Kevin ignores it; he's busy. "When you… did you ever want to do more? With your girlfriend? More than kissing, I mean."

Sam's hair is great to work with. He unwinds a little and restarts with a french braid, instead, since it's so smooth. Sam asked him a question, though. "Um, not really," he says. Three over two over one over two. It's a soothing pattern, very rhythmic. Like differential equations. "It felt awkward. I mean… it was Channing, you know?"

He admires the effect, curving around Sam's ear, and turns his chin again to do the other side. Sam lets him, holding still for it.

"But you want more," Sam says, while the braid forms perfectly over his right ear. "With me."

Kevin pauses. There was something—different, in Sam's voice. He plaits the last inch, finishing, and he's—aware maybe, more than he has been, of Sam's hands on his skin. They're just sitting there, low on his back, the thumbs still gently moving. "I mean," he says, and bites his lip.

With the sides braided, Sam looks like a Viking. He's big enough to be one. "Did you know that Vikings actually had a much better standard of living than most people think?" Kevin says. "They were really big into bathing."

"Yes, I knew that," Sam says. He sits up more and Kevin's weight shifts, in his lap, so that he grabs onto Sam's shoulders to balance, but of course with Sam's hands on his back he wasn't going to budge at all. Sam's hands shift to his hips and he kisses Kevin again, leaning in quick without his usual careful bend where it feels like he's asking to make sure Kevin's okay with it—Kevin sucks air, opens his mouth, and Sam's tongue is—oh, wet but it's not—not like it was, with Channing, and he makes some weird noise and has his fingers in Sam's hair again, at the back where it's so soft, gripping, trying to make sure he doesn't just float away. Sublimation, solid to gas in a second.

"You're hard," Sam says, quietly, when he pulls back. Kevin's dizzy. Oh, he is. He looks down, between them, and Sam's thumb is dragging down the waist of his sweatpants a little, and he is—yeah—bulging there, really obvious. His belly throbs.

Sam's other hand cards through Kevin's hair. It feels nice and he closes his eyes, just feeling. Sam kisses him again, shallow enough that he can still think, and Sam's thumb drags around the curve of his jaw, and Sam's other thumb slips over, to under his bellybutton, rubbing there a little. "You deserve more," Sam says—funny tone—but that's agreement at least, and Kevin's skin goes hot all over. Not drunk enough to be nervous but he…

When he opens his eyes Sam's cheeks are a little red. Kevin wonders suddenly if he's hard, too, but with Sam's eyes on his he doesn't want to look down. "Let me just take care of you," Sam says, abruptly. "You're drunk and I don't—for tonight, at least. Just let me."

Kevin has no idea what that means. "Okay," he says, because he'd probably agree to anything when Sam looks like he does, right now, when he's—feeling as much as he is, right now.

Sam's mouth turns up, on one side, and then the world tips—Kevin's on his back, his head by the footboard, and Sam's leaning over him with his hand planted on the mattress, Kevin's knees spread around his waist. He reaches up and grips into Sam's hair, the ends of the braids fraying loose. "Yeah, hold on to me," Sam says, soft, encouraging, and Kevin closes his eyes and feels the silky warmth under his fingers, and does.

#fffr #balder12 #spn fic #sam/kevin #sevin #my writing

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loveyourselfcreatively · 4 years ago

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Supernatural Finale Rewrite

(Author’s Notes: Regarding the finale, that was a lot and there was a lot I would have done differently. Although this isn’t perfect by any means, it’s what I would have liked and most expected from the finale. Hope you all enjoy and are feeling alright!)

Dean’s eyes opened when the sound of his alarm clock stabbed through the veil of sleep he was enjoying. Mechanically, he turned it off and sat up against the headboard, taking a deep breath and stewing on the events of the day prior. For once, he didn’t feel a weight over his shoulders. He didn’t feel like he was playing to someone else’s narrative. This was his first day of free will in his entire life and he felt faintly content about that fact, smiling to himself before his attention was trained upon Miracle. He lifted her up onto the bed and wrapped his arms around the fluffy and recently groomed canine, calmly rocking with her clasped in his arms. Sam was surprised by his affection for the dog but she was important to Dean and he was happy to have her in his corner when he began life without God’s dictation.

After doing his morning routine smoothly, with Miracle by his side, he got to the kitchen, following the tell-tale smell of Sam’s breakfast. He watched his brother use the spatula to unstick the turkey bacon from the skillet, Eileen directly behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist affectionately. She stood on her toes and was able to kiss Sam’s cheek as he smiled similar to how he used to when Dean would tease him about having crushes on girls. They were lucky to have Eileen again. Dean remembered Sam’s attempts to be strong throughout their days of being alone on Earth, eyes on getting people back and having Eileen again. When everyone came back and Eileen showed up at the bunker door, Sam very nearly cried and Dean was just as happy as Sam was relieved.

Although it wasn’t explicitly stated as they drove to investigate the case in Ohio, it felt like one of the last rides. This scared Dean but he also forced himself to accept it. Sam was holding Eileen’s hand even though she was in the back seat and stared out the window at passing trees, fantasizing with a hopeful demeanor. It wasn’t dissimilar to when Sam was getting to be a teenager and looked out the window, secretly fantasizing about going to college but keeping that fact to himself given Dean and John at the time were not very supportive of that idea. Dean was ready to hear this time and with that thought in mind, he stopped looking towards him and focused back on the road, sharing a knowing glance with Eileen, who understood Sam now had his mind on bigger things, in the rearview.

After fighting the vampires and saving those boys, that air of finality was nearly impossible to shake. Dean would have died if Eileen wasn’t there to tag-team the larger vampire with him and he was grateful for her presence. Still, a close-call was a close-call and Sam and Dean realized in that moment that recklessness was a bad practice to have now that God wasn’t protecting them for the sake of a good narrative. Not long after, only weeks following actually, Sam stood in the doorway of Dean’s room following a nice dinner of his own making. He spent hours on it and stewed over it like the day was some kind of occasion, and it was.

Dean was laying on his stomach on the bed, flicking through news stories on his tablet with Miracle curled up by his side unbothered. He glanced up from the tablet and placed it down when he saw the look on Sam’s face. He was struggling with something, brows furrowed but also tilted up with his lips pressed in a thin straight line. Dean wouldn’t prompt him, the words that would soon leave Sam’s lips were his to share. With a shuddering breath, Sam finally said what he wanted.

“Eileen and I, we uh,” he clears his throat and looks away from Dean to the corner of the room. Dean smiled knowingly to himself but remained silent, looking down at the bed spread and scratching at Miracle’s ear as he waited. “We were wanting to go on our own trip, for a while.”

Sam expected a response from Dean, eyes softened with fearful expectation, but he got nothing. The silence wasn’t bad or uncomfortable so he clarified.

“You knew I couldn’t do this so seriously forever,” he chuckles weakly, “she and I will continue of course, can’t forget hunting, but we want to try to move on. Even though she and I… you and I, will never be normal, it’s always been something I’ve wanted to try and I couldn’t comfortably do that the last few times, when you were gone. So, I think now’s the time to…” he scoffs in realization of what he was about to say, squinting his eyes and looking down, “move on I guess?” he laughs out abortively.

Dean finally nods and looks up to his brother, waiting until Sam looked him in the eyes to speak. “I think that’s a good idea, Sammy.”

Sam stood dumbfounded for a moment, not wholly surprised by Dean’s reaction but expecting more.

“It’s what you’ve always wanted and there’s no one here that has as much power to convince you otherwise but yourself.”

A weak but heartfelt smile crossed Sam’s face. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll take up that question on the daily,” he mumbles thoughtfully, “and eventually I’ll figure it out.” Looking up at Sam, he was happy to see he accepted the answer with a nod.

Sam and Dean didn’t talk as much as either would have wanted in the months following Sam and Eileen taking their leave from the bunker. Eileen, as they were planning on passing through Kansas on a casual hunt that interrupted the domesticity they enjoyed prior, suggested they drop by briefly to see how Dean was doing. Sam was happy she suggested it as he wouldn’t have attempted to otherwise, even though he secretly wanted to. When they got there, Baby was nowhere to be seen but Sam disregarded that. He asked if Eileen wanted to join him but she insisted their reunion was to be had between one another and that she’d join him soon enough prompting Sam to enter the dark bunker.

His brows furrowed as he turned on the lights and looked around, finding his own barren room and eventually finding Dean’s, although, it didn’t look like Deans. None of his stuff was there any longer and it seemed as though the only remnants of anyone being there in the first place was the scratching on the table in the main room and the very faint, concerning smell of smoke that permeated throughout the bunker. Not long after scoping out the place, he called Dean’s main phone, making his way out as he did so. Eileen was confused and waited for Sam to fill her in on why Dean didn’t join him but relaxed when Sam’s demeanor relaxed as well; the call was picked up.

“Hiya, Sammy, how are you and Eileen?” he said with a smile in his tone.

“Are you on a hunt?” Sam asked even though he was aware Dean’s lack of belongings at

the bunker implied more than a simple hunt.

Dean picked at his fries and ate another, waving off a waitress politely before she could ask if he was enjoying his meal. He was sitting on the outside patio of a diner with Miracle by his side. “I’m not actually.”

Bated silence was all that could be heard on Sam’s end.

“I thought about what you said, about moving on, and I thought I’d give it a try. Still hunting but I’m doing what I want, I guess,” he chuckles, coming off as genuinely happy, “that’s all we can really do, huh? So I’m giving it a try.”

“You’re not hunting anymore?”

“Woah woah woah, of course I’m still hunting, I’m just not… well… it’s whatever comes to me.” Dean thought of his words and frowned, the part of his father in him reminding him he was selfish for not spending every waking hour hunting. “Does that make me selfish, Sam?” he asked in a moment of clarity.

Eileen watched Sam intently, garnering an understanding from their interactions based on Sam’s facial expressions and words. His eyes were wide but sparkly in happiness, mouth opened and twitching as though he wanted to say something. His brows raised up suddenly and she instantly recognized a powerful “no” leaving his lips. He was happy despite his admonishment, and so was she. Dean, likely, had left for good, and she was happy for what that meant for the both of them.

Sam had an air about him following that interaction. He was happy and spoke to Dean often. In his childhood and adulthood he always feared one of them would die too young to see the other grow old. If that didn’t happen, he was sure they would have a large fight and never make up, but they remained close despite those predictions. Dean was there for nearly every Christmas and Thanksgiving that followed the phone call, even though he said it was only for the food. Dean hadn’t been the only one to join Sam and Eileen during the holidays at their home, of course.

Jody, with Donna and the girls, joined often and teased the boys for their old age every year and Dean remained close with Claire following his absence from the bunker. Sam didn’t think to think too much about it but, more times than not, when Dean visited Sam casually, Claire was in tow, always eager to join him on hunts and growing into a capable young woman with a penchant for medicine. That fact reassured Sam that Dean was not likely to be lost with her beside him during hunts.

Miracle’s passing was followed up by Sam and Eileen having a baby girl. Sam and Dean’s makeshift family followed the latter journey every step of the way. Charlie had been excited to have her own as well so it wasn’t abnormal to see her drop by and ask Eileen how she's feeling and if she had any advice to give if Charlie wanted to have one of her own with her girlfriend by her side. Eileen was more than happy to oblige and answer those questions for her.

When she was born, the waiting room was flooded with over forty hunters from their universe and the apocalypse universe that no longer existed. Mary was calm and mild mannered like both of her parents. She would likely be just as smart as her parents and Dean never hesitated to let her know that when he visited them for the holidays following.

By the time Mary was seven, Charlie had a baby of her own and proudly showed him off to the group of hunters and friends that joined the Thanksgiving celebration that year. Mary, eager, asked her dad when Uncle Dean would be coming and Sam insisted she had to be patient, which she desperately attempted to do. All her suppression of excitement during the hours of waiting for her uncle resulted in an explosion of squeals when Dean entered and scooped her up playfully. Funnily enough, everyone predicting she would be calm and mild-mannered was negated by her favorite uncle’s brash nature.

“There’s my girl!” he spoke excitedly and groans as he tries to lift her up as high as he would have normally but he got about halfway before placing her down on the ground and smirking at her. “You’re getting to be just as tall as your daddy, huh?”

Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes before they focused in on a larger box Dean had stuck into his bag with a pink bow. “What’s that, Dean?”

“Huh? Oh, this?” he whips out the box and smirks down at Mary, “I don’t know, Mary, what do YOU think this is?”

“It’s a Christmas present!”

“Yep, needed to get this to your daddy early, you still need to wait a month though.”

She groaned but accepted the situation before smiling and running off to dote over Aunt Charlie’s baby.

Dean walked up to Sam and handed him the gift, eyes bright as he looked over the individuals in the room. Sam spoke, still looking down at the box in his hands.

“This mean you won't be coming over for Christmas?”

Dean glanced back towards the gift thoughtfully before looking towards Sam. “You know I hate to miss Christmas, giving it to you early just in case. Have a few cases on the roster that I’m considering and if any of them bleed into Christmas, I wanted Mary to at least get a gift from me, you know?”

“Not working yourself silly?”

“Nah, just doing all the good I can manage. I’m human, after all,” Dean says with a smile.

Sam was happy for the words but frowned as he figured Dean would have had a wife by that point if he wasn’t actually working himself silly. Was Dean lying to him? It was something Sam had been concerned about since Mary turned three but opted to be more patient with Dean than anything. Patience was what he deserved.

Sam, sitting at the table with everyone in tow, happily reflected on the memory of his Dean witnessed years ago: sitting with another family during the holidays enjoying their food and the family life he couldn’t relate to at the time. This Thanksgiving wasn’t unlike any of the others and Sam reflected on that memory and the life he made for himself often. Dean and Sam met stares like they did every other Thanksgiving when they truly realized how lucky they were until it got to the end of the night when the kids were tired and the adults were respectfully tipsy.

As everyone chatted following dinner, Sam couldn’t help but notice his brother was missing from the festivities. Mary had been settled so it wouldn’t have been unsurprising for Dean to lose interest and find a chair to sleep on but Sam still couldn’t find him. Finally, he caught the image of his brother leaning over the fencing on the back porch, beer bottle in hand as he looked over the dark field ahead. The view provided nothing crazy aside from the decent sight of the stars up above.

Sam joined him and stared ahead, words, unspoken, behind his closed lips as he stewed in the silence. He glanced behind him towards the group of friends, partially obscured, and his gorgeous wife, and used that for fuel for the statement he’d been keeping to himself for a few years at that point. “You ever plan on settling down like this? Have a wife and kids? Is that on your mind at all?” Sam’s eyes were softened with concern towards his brother. He noted that Jody had been right about the years never ceasing to pass. While he himself had greying hairs on his temples, Dean’s hair now took on a dull brown look, fading rather than greying. His wrinkles were deepening as well but not in a way Sam disliked. His frown lines remained how they always were but his crows feet were extra defined. Despite Sam’s worries, Dean was a happy man.

Those crows feet only deepened when his question prompted a smile from Dean. He had been still during the silence but his hand flexed around the neck of the beer bottle as he looked down and thought up a viable answer for his worried brother. “May not be what you wanted for yourself but I like how things are for me right now. It’s not normal but it's humble and unpredictable without being dangerous. Best of what you and I wanted for me if I ever got this far,” he laughs out.

Sam let out his own abortive laugh with softened eyes. Dean was privy to visits and was with Claire a lot but surely he couldn’t be happy without a partner and children of his own, right? Almost as though Dean read his mind, he continued.

“I wouldn’t mind having a kid though, if I ever feel I’m ready for it but…” he sighs softly, eyes bright, “Claire is good.”

“You see Claire as your kid?” Sam spoke softly and acceptingly.

Dean nods, “yeah, I think I do,” he chuckles almost in disbelief, “she, uh…” he tried and failed to stifle a smile, “she called me dad on a phone a few months ago and uh… I don’t know, man, it just felt right.”

Sam noticed Dean’s eyes were wet with sentimentality and nodded, eyes growing calm as he remembered watching her grow following Cass taking her father’s vessel. Sam’s eyes softened as he thought about the angel but didn’t speak of him.

Dean swallowed down his emotions and continued despite his better judgement. Sam gave off an air of openness that Dean finally decided he was willing to adhere to.

“I never told you what happened before Cass died, did I?”

Sam’s eyes widened and looked towards Dean eagerly.

Dean recognized his eagerness and faintly felt bad that he kept Sam in the dark in all the years he spent coping. Some part of him had hoped he could have Cass himself explain. Clearing his throat and nodding to himself for hype, he explained.

“Cass sacrificed himself so the Empty could come take Death away, you know that but… Well.” Dean warily looked towards Sam.

Sam responded with a patient look and Dean regained his confidence.

“Cas made some kind of deal with the Empty at some point, don’t know when. He told me the deal was when he became happy, he’d be taken away.”

Sam’s brows furrowed, not understanding where this was going.

Dean cleared his throat again, now gripping the neck of his beer bottle and staring as deeply into the dark as he could, attempting to place himself as far away from the house as he could manage subconsciously. “He told me he loved me, Sammy.”

Sam’s mouth gaped.

“He,” Dean took a deep shuddering breath, unable to stand still as he dropped his thousand yard stare and hung his head, momentarily overwhelmed with the confession, “he told me loved me and that that was good enough. That he was happiest being honest with me about it, and then he…”

Sam now understood and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder as if he was telling him he didn’t have to explain what happened after.

“Sammy?” his voice was hoarse and surprisingly fearful but overwhelmingly vulnerable. Sam felt like Dean was a kid again but this was different because Dean never allowed Sam to console him, that was always Dean’s job.

“Yeah, Dean?”

Dean was now white knuckling the bottle as he shuddered. “Sammy, I think I loved him too,” he choked out painfully and raised his head, eyes wet as he looked up at the stars in hopes that the tears would cease. He placed the bottle on the raising so he could use his free hand to cover his eyes and rub the evidence of hurt from his face

Sam didn’t see much but he saw Dean’s face flush and mouth tense as he tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to spill from his mouth and gave in, using the hand on his shoulder to drag him into a powerful hug, silent because all Dean needed in that moment was comfort. Eventually, Dean gained the ability to speak in a way that was understandable, breaths evening.

“I tried so hard to get him back.”

Sam pulled away slightly to scrutinize him, willing to serve disappointment if Dean’s words meant he would have been willing to sacrifice himself again. Dean responded by nodding his head no.

“After you left, I spent those months looking for anything. I wouldn’t summon the Empty but I just wanted to know if he was there. I wanted to talk to him but nothing worked, Sam.”

Sam recalled the smell of smoke in the bunker when he got there to look for Dean after he left and he realized.

“I just wanted to know if he was there but it was like,” Dean froze in the middle of his sentence, remembering sitting on the dock with a line in front of him and Cass by his side. He squeezed his eyes shut to compose himself before going on, “it was like I was casting a line with bait that could only get the attention of one fish but hours would pass and days would pass and nothing ever bit. It was like Cass wasn’t there at all, Sam. And I was so…” he stops himself briefly but continues, “I wasn’t really okay with it until I thought that, even though Cas was gone for good, he would want me to use that free will I worked so hard for and he would want me to live for myself and do what I wanted.”

Sam was crying calmly, a tear streaking down his slightly aged face occasionally as Dean spoke.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to feel the way I realized I felt about Cass for someone else but I’m okay with that, Sam,” he speaks, looking into Sam’s eyes and cupping his cheek, “I’ll be okay.”

Sam scoffed out a laugh through his tears as he nodded and accepted the comfort.

“I’ll be okay because,” he looked down, gathering the words in his mind before speaking them out to the world, “happiness isn’t just in the having, it’s in the being and feeling.”

Sam couldn’t stop himself from thinking back to all the times he admonished Dean for his loyalty to Cass, for his anger directed at Cass that was mostly fueled by disappointment rooted in love, all the arguments they had that he involved himself in, and suddenly his jokes back then weren’t all jokes.

Dean begins genuinely crying and glances back towards the window and into the warm house. Eileen was peeking around the corner curiously but Dean feigned a smile for her before looking back at his brother. “You have something so good.”

Sam smiled and nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so before once again meeting his big brother’s eyes.

“It’s something you built for yourself and I’m so damned proud of you, Sam,” he lovingly used the hand against his cheek to shake his head about playfully, “my baby brother.”

Sam lets out a wet laugh as he allows Dean to lead them into pressing their foreheads together. Both brother’s realized that was likely the last time Dean would tell Sam he was proud of him, not because he would be disappointed later, but because he achieved his ultimate happiness with Eileen and the family he and Dean built together.

“Are you expecting anyone?”

Bobby was shaken from his trance as he stared ahead at the world Jack built for them. He enjoyed having John, Mary, and his other friends nearby nearly as much as he enjoyed stewing in the calmness. Sitting on the porch and enjoying stillness was something he did on Earth and would continue to do throughout the afterlife.

“Hopefully not anytime soon.”

An awkward silence was the response and Bobby realized the man misinterpreted his words, “I meant anyone that’s not here already, you jackass,” he chuckles out affectionately, patting the chair and handing the man a beer when he joins him.

Cass scrutinized the bottle before tipping the liquid into his mouth and joining Bobby in the bliss of commonality despite not being fond of the taste. “Do you think they’ll like it here?”

“They’ll love it but they better not get here too soon.”

Cass looked towards Bobby with a warm, calm smile and nodded in agreement, looking back ahead at the gorgeous expanse before them.

#supernatural #supernatural finale #spn 15x21 #supernatural 15x21 #supernatural fix-it #supernatural fanfiction #destiel #saileen #dean x castiel #sam x eileen

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askygokindredshipping · 4 years ago

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Never say “Yes” to Ghost Hunting... Unless....

Summary: Ghost Hunting AU anyone? Judai and Johan are sensitives and realize that Yusei is partially sensitive when he momentarily spots their familiar spirits Yubel and Ruby. However, Yusei doesn’t believe in them and thinks that the two of them are out of their minds. Can looking for non-existent beings lead to something else? (No Duel Monsters in this AU. Yubel and Ruby are both human spirits that died generations ago.)

Author’s Notes: Now that I am in a place where I don’t feel completely overwhelmed by everything and can remember to actually post here, here it is! This is the story I kept promising for that mini bang I was apart of! @hyperionnebulae did a fantastic job of setting it up. I’ll link the full collection at the end. Also, I had an amazing artist and I’ll edit this post with their information. The piece that they did is *chef’s kiss*. I do know that you can visit their DeviantArt page and I highly encourage you to do so!

Anyway, enjoy!

Yusei’s face was not looking down at the screen of his laptop, but instead, he was staring at the two men sitting across from him. It was a warm, sunny evening and he had decided that he was going to do some of his work at the local coffee shop so that he could focus. Focus. What a funny word it was. That was exactly what he was not doing.

Two young men were sitting at the table next to him, chatting amicably about something he didn't quite catch. While they were both very appealing to the eyes, they didn’t interest him nearly as much as the two people sitting next to both of them. These two figures were translucent and clearly injured. He was not a doctor, that was Aki’s area of expertise, but he’d seen enough in his day to recognize deadly injuries like those. The tallest one (Yusei couldn’t quite determine which gender either of the translucent people were and decided it was probably best not to assume anything) had a scar that went down its face, nearly dividing it in two and what looked like a jewel embedded into its forehead. Their hair was a soft, metallic blue color. The other one was shorter with wide, ruby-colored eyes and lavender colored hair, a clear bloodstain blooming from their chest and out against their lovely lavender blouse. The tall one said something to the man next to it. He responded casually. Like… like there was nothing wrong!

Yusei blinked.

They were gone.

He breathed in deep and quickly turned back to his computer screen, the words suddenly not making any kind of sense as something cold shot up his spine. No. There was no way. Those things did not exist. He refused to accept what he had just seen. There had to be a logical explanation.

Didn’t there?

“Excuse me,” a voice asked him, “Are you alright?” He looked up. The two men at the table were now looking at him. The one who spoke had teal-blue colored hair and equally blue eyes; he wore a light lavender colored blouse-style shirt with a darker blue vest over the top. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“Or you’ve seen a ghost,” the other added. He was dressed in a dark t-shirt with a red jacket over it. His hair was a light brown and stood out in nearly every direction (not that Yusei could judge with his own black mess) and his eyes were a warm brown. He took a breath as he registered the statement. A ghost? Those things did not exist.

But….

“I’m fine,” he finally answered. He couldn’t stop himself as he blurted out, “but what happened to your two friends?” The two of them shared a look.

“It’s only been us here,” the brown haired one said.

Yusei blinked, “You mean you don’t have two friends that are dressed up for Halloween somewhere around here?”

“Oh, they just left,” the blue haired one cut in just as the brown haired one went to say something. He shot the other a look and it seemed to take a second but, eventually, he got the meaning and quickly clamped his mouth shut again.

“They couldn’t have left that quickly,” he argued. “Are you pulling some kind of prank?” They shared a look again, and Yusei started to get mildly annoyed with it. They didn’t say anything to him for some time. Finally, he closed his laptop and stood to pack his things. Clearly, this was not where he was meant to be. Before he could walk away from the table, the brown-haired guy caught his wrist gently; electricity shot up Yusei’s arm and he flinched at the sensation even though it did not hurt. It felt a bit good.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, releasing him. “It’s just… Can we walk with you for a bit? Here’s not the place to talk.” Yusei blinked. A couple of alarms went off in his mind, but he ignored them, in favor of nodding his consent, and the three of them left together.

The brown-haired guy leaned forward as they walked, “I’m Judai Yuki and this is my partner, Johan Anderson.” Johan raised a hand in greeting when Yusei looked at him.

“Yusei Fudo.”

“Nice to meet you Yusei,” Johan greeted. Judai smiled and continued introducing the two of them.

“We’re paranormal investigators; basically, we work to help people in desperate situations involving anything they can’t explain or handle.” He straightened, walking forward a little bit. Yusei couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Ghost? You two deal with ghosts?”

“More or less,” Johan nodded.

“You do understand ghosts aren’t real?” They shared another look.

“Yeah, that’s what a lot of people say.”

“But we happen to know differently.”

Yusei stopped and leaned his head to the side a bit, “Alright, I’ll bite. What is your proof? A grainy photo? Horribly shot night-vision scenes? A scar you got from something being magically thrown at you?” Johan snickered and Judai had to cover his mouth with his hand. After a few seconds, the two of them could not help but laugh at his response. Yusei was taken a bit off guard. “What’s so funny?”

“You were so deadpanned when you were asking,” Judai breathed.

“It was hilarious,” Johan added. Yusei found himself blushing a bit, and he turned his head away, trying to not let them see how embarrassed he was. They recovered after a few moments. “And to answer your question, nothing like that.” He pointed off over his shoulder, “Do you see them?”

Yusei looked, then shook his head. “See who?”

“Our friends from the café,” Judai clarified. Yusei looked over their shoulders again, but still only saw the street in front of them. He shook his head.

“Nobody’s there.”

“But you did see them in the café?”

“I saw something ,” Yusei pointed out. “I don’t know what it is I saw.”

“Deny it all you want Yusei,” Judai returned, “but you did ask us about it, which meant that you did see them.” He pointed between the two of them. “Johan and I are mediums. We can communicate with spirits and we’re pretty certain that you’re at least a little bit sensitive since you could see our familiars briefly. You can’t see them right now even though they are standing next to us without utilizing too much of theirs or our energy.” Judai nodded, as if his point made a whole ton of sense. “I wonder what it would take to help you see them again? What made it possible at the café?”

“Do you think the setting had something to do with it,” Johan added. “I remember reading a report that that café has natural running water under it.”

“That might have something to do with it.”

“You two are crazy,” Yusei returned. Nothing they said made any sense! Ghosts didn’t exist, but now they were claiming… all of this ? Johan smiled at him apologetically.

“It’s a lot the first time. You probably don’t believe us, but I have a suggestion.” He clapped his hands together. “Why don’t you come with us tonight? We have a job at a local place this evening. It’ll give us a chance to show you what you’re talking about and to confirm if you are sensitive or not.”

“Full offense, but I just met you.”

“I know.”

“How can I trust you?”

“You can’t.” That took him by surprise and Yusei felt staggered a bit. “But you might find it more interesting than you think. I promise.” Yusei looked between the two of them. Logically, he had no reason to trust either one of them. Something in his gut, though, told him something completely different; it was whispering that he should take the chance and see where this was going to lead. After a few seconds of the two of them staring him down, he finally sighed. He raised his hands in defeat.

“Alright. I’ll join you.”

Johan and Judai smiled at each other.

My, my, my- how the night had suddenly turned around.

*****

The house they were investigating turned out to be an older mansion on the outskirts of the city. Yusei made sure to let a couple of people know where he was going. Martha was worried, of course, but Jack and Crow got a huge trip out of the fact that he, Yusei Fudo, was going ghost hunting. Of all things in the world.

What a weird first date , they had teased.

He had left the house with red across his nose and both cheeks, but he had not given them the satisfaction of seeing it. Yusei slammed the door on his way out.

He now sat leaned up against his red motorcycle. Neither of them had arrived yet. This left him time to do a little extra research on the address on his transparent tablet. The mansion was built in the year XXXX by a rich mogul who wanted a place for his new bride to be the mistress of; however, he built over sacred ground, despite multiple warnings, and thus, “cursed” the home and his family for all eternity. They lost several children in birth and early into childhood. Eventually, the wife passed of an illness, but information on which one was scarce. Her death was the final straw for him. The mogul retired from the home and disappeared into obscurity. It was left to rot. Reports of families moving in and immediately moving out were plentiful in the first few decades after the original owner’s leaving, but quickly teetered off as rumors of a haunting became more prevalent.

He scrolled up on his tablet, murmuring. “Reports of a white lady…. Children laughing… shadow figures…. Objects being thrown. So just your run of the mill hoax?”

“Well, even if it is a hoax, it’s still our job to ease the worries of our customer.” He looked up, not necessarily startled by the sound of Johan’s voice, but a bit surprised that he hadn’t heard them approaching, especially in the large, older van they were driving. Judai was behind him, starting to mess with some equipment. Yusei closed the tablet and placed it in his pocket. “We’re glad you decided to come. What’d you find in your research?”

“Nothing out of this world,” he confirmed, arms still crossed. “Pretty standard reports. White lady, children, objects being thrown.”

Johan nodded. He turned his head a bit, as if listening to someone, and he smiled after a few seconds before saying, “That was pretty much everything we were able to find or was given to us as in our initial customer request.” He paused for a second, “I better help Judai with the equipment. As brave as he is as a ghost hunter, he’s a complete ditz when it comes to setting it up.”

“Would you like me to help? I’m fairly good with technology.”

Johan shot him a grateful smile. “You don’t have to. We’re the ones that invited you out here.”

Yusei rolled up the sleeve of his jacket. “Don’t worry about it. I might as well do something useful now since I’m probably going to mess up your results anyway.” Johan shook his head but led him over to the wired mess that had become Judai. It took them about an hour, once they had untangled him, to set up all the equipment they planned to use and since they were getting paid a hefty price, they were using everything . EVP, static night vision, Mel meters, motion detectors. You name it, they had it. The sun was starting to set when they finally started to sync up all their equipment, recording audio introductions on their three different recording devices. Johan helped Yusei into a specially made vest with several different pieces of equipment attached to it such as a night vision camera, perspective camera, and a few other useful tools like glow sticks, back-up batteries, and flashlights. Yusei felt the electricity again as his hand brushed his arm. A soft blush touched his cheeks. He did not miss the fact that Johan had one as well. Was it possible that he was feeling it too? What was even more astounding to him was that this was the second time he had felt it… with both of them.

Judai smiled brightly when they came back from the back of the van, “That vest looks good on you Yusei.”

Oof, that blush was not going away any time soon.

“Thank you,” he managed to get out without sounding like a stammering idiot.

Yusei had had feelings for people before in his life. Aki, the young lady who had become one of his greatest friends of all time, was one such example. His friend Kiryu was another. However, he had never been in this kind of situation before; his feelings for the previous two had come at different times. This was new. And a bit confusing, especially with how fast everything was moving.

“Are you feeling alright,” Judai asked. Yusei turned to face him. He was looking up at him, his brow furrowed a bit. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“You make it sound like I’m regretting my wedding or something.”

“Hmmm, I’m pretty sure this isn’t as stressful as a wedding.” He smirked. “But if you’re feeling scared, I recommend hanging back behind us.”

“I can’t be scared of something that doesn’t exist.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Me being scared or ghosts being real?”

“Yes.”

Yusei shook his head as he walked away, and he followed. Johan bowed mockingly as he opened the front door. Judai gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before blowing a kiss back at Yusei and disappearing into the darkness, only the light of his flashlight illuminating a soft outline of his head and left shoulder. The two of them followed.

The entryway was as bad as you could imagine. Dust clung to everything. Spider webs decorated every corner, and the stairs, and the molding, and the walls, and basically every available square inch. Old paint and wallpaper were missing in great chunks. The building material was old and decayed. An odd sensation of dread shot through Yusei the longer he looked down the hallway. There was no discernible reason for the feeling. He grabbed both Judai’s and Johan’s shoulders, preventing them from stepping any further inside.

When they turned to look at him, he raised his hands apologetically, but dropped them and breathed, “Something isn’t right.”

Judai blinked, quickly looked to his right, and briefly nodded. “What are you feeling?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that if we go any further, something bad is going to happen.”

“But we’ve already been in here multiple times,” Johan assured him. “We had to set up all the static cameras, remember?”

Yusei hesitated. That was true. They’d already been in and out, and up and down all sets of stairs, as they’d been busy setting up static night vision cameras in a couple of the hotspots, specifically where the white lady and the children were often seen and heard moving about. Nothing seemed to happen during that time, and he rationalized that they would be fine in this moment.

The feeling, on the other hand, would not leave him alone.

He started to say something again, but Judai started moving inward and Johan followed. The feeling grew worse as he raised a hand to stop them.

A white figure suddenly appeared at the end of the narrow hallway. The three of them froze, but Judai, after a few seconds, threw a hand back. What Yusei could not see was how his eyes shifted from brown to green and orange, ready for whatever was about to occur. Johan took a step back. Something creaked. The white figure raised its head and with an unearthly scream, it shot forward at them. Judai jumped back. Johan moved in front of Yusei which put the three of them into roughly the same spot on the floor. Yusei looked down immediately as the sound of breaking wood caught his attention; just before the figure could reach them, he grabbed both of them close to him.

The floor gave way, and they fell into darkness.

*****

“Yusei, Yusei, Yusei!” He blinked. Everything felt sore and painful. It took him a few moments to remember that they had fallen through the floor. He groaned. Thankfully, nothing seemed broken, but he was going to be feeling this for the next few days; Martha was probably going to order him to go to a doctor, and for once, he probably wouldn’t protest it. A soft smile crossed Johan’s face. He was momentarily confused.

“I’m dead,” he breathed, “I swear I’m seeing an angel.”

“You wish,” Johan laughed. “But Judai and I owe you quite a bit for saving our lives.”

“What happened?”

Johan crossed his arms, contemplating on how much to share. “Well, you see….” He paused and changed his question, “Did you happen to see a white figure come at us?” Yusei shook his head.

He struggled to remember. Nothing came to mind however and he shook his head. “All I saw was you and Judai get defensive.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” he mused. Louder, he said, “Anyway, we all were standing on the same space and the floor gave way. You just barely managed to brace us against you before it happened. You took the brunt of the injury.” He pointed to some old bags of flour that were clearly busted in the fall. “You really do have to have a guardian angel at least since this is what we landed on. Judai went back upstairs to double check everything. We should really get out of here.” He stood. Johan offered out a hand, which Yusei took gratefully. Together, they made their way back up the stairs and, to his surprise, the sun was starting to rise.

How long had he been out?

Judai was at the back of the van, putting away most of their equipment. He looked up when they exited. Without hesitation, or warning, he ran for Yusei, catching him in a tight hug; Yusei flinched a bit but accepted it.

“Thank you,” Judai breathed. “We wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you.” After a few seconds, he released Yusei’s waist, backed away from him, and bowed. “I’m also so sorry. I should have listened to your warning. I know better than to ignore things like that.”

Yusei waved a hand. “No harm, no foul.”

“Well, a little harm,” Johan reminded him, elbowing his side. He flinched again. Johan walked over and wrapped an arm lovingly around Judai’s shoulders. “As such, breakfast is on us.”

“If you’d like,” Judai quickly added. Yusei did not miss how brightly red his expression had become and he smiled.

“Sure,” he agreed. “As long as the ghosts aren’t invited.”

“No promises,” they said together.

The three of them managed to hook their transportations together and rode back to town in the van. Yusei looked out the window. He was surprised when a weight hit his shoulder; Judai had slumped over, soundly asleep. Johan smiled apologetically.

Something swelled in his heart. He turned to look out the window once more and mused that he would not mind trying it again. Ghost hunting that is. Falling into decrepit basements he could definitely do without.

Judai shifted a bit on his shoulder and Yusei looked down at him softly.

Yeah, maybe just one more time.

*****

Thank you so much for reading!

The story on AO3

The mini bang collection

Check out LightningClawedSky on Deviantart

Support me on Ko-Fi

#kindredshipping #yusei fudo #johan anderson #judai yuki #jesse anderson #jaden yuki #ghost hunters au #tw death #tw injuries #tw blood mention #ghosts #I said I would pilot this ship if I had to #and I completely meant it

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mosylufanfic · 5 years ago

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Five Times They Got Caught Off-Guard (and one time they decided to settle the question)

Hail, @youareiron-andyouarestrong, I am your Secret Santa! Merry Christmas and here's your present! The prompt “WHO KEEPS HANGING MISTLETOE EVERYWHERE WE ARE” just made me giggle, so I wrote a goofy, fluffy, slightly pratfall-y 5 Times fic. I didn't use all your ideas for majors, but I definitely enjoyed hearing them. You said smut was okay, and while this is still T, it’s pushing the upper edge by the end. I hope you enjoy it, and that you have an amazing remainder of the Christmas season!

Five Times They Got Caught Off-Guard (and one time they decided to settle the question)

Cassian was stripping meat from bone with unsettling efficiency when Jyn walked in the kitchen.

"I can't believe you want more of that dusty jerky," she said, hoisting herself up to sit on the counter. "I've still got strings in my teeth." She picked her teeth with her fingernail to demonstrate.

"I'm making soup," he said, tossing a leg bone onto a plate and a few scraps of overcooked, dried-out turkey meat into a bowl. "Might as well get some good out of this bird."

"Ah," she said, reaching down for a carrot stick from the veggie platter that Han Solo, that cheap motherfucker, had contributed to their dinner. "Good idea. Do Americans really eat one of those awful things every year?"

"I think it's usually a little tastier." He shrugged, as unfamiliar with American Thanksgiving as she was.

A big noisy holiday dinner had been Bodhi's idea. Most of them in the elderly, rambling house just off campus were too poor to make it home over the break, and about half of them were international students anyway.

Add in some of the strays that Bodhi seemed to pick up like a magnet picking up leftover paper clips, and there had been enough people, and enough dishes, to make up for the dreadful main event. Jyn rubbed her belly and wondered if there was any of Bodhi's veggie curry left. Or the elote Cassian had made. Or the chocolate silk pie that their landlords Chirrut and Baze had brought. Her mouth watered.

A yell exploded from the living room. They both paused in what they were doing and exchanged eyerolls. They'd been booed down for attempting to veto the American football game on the telly.

"Call that football," Jyn said, and bit the carrot stick in half.

"Que chafa," Cassian said, shaking his head.

She laughed. "Man United is playing, too. Night game. Probably almost done."

"Since when do you root for them?"

"Watch your mouth, asshole, I'm rooting for whoever's playing them."

He smiled to himself, looking over at her. Suddenly his smile faded.

"What?" she said. "What are you staring at?"

"How long has that been there?"

"What?" She grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and tried to use it as a mirror. "I got something in my teeth?" Fucking turkey. She'd taken a slice for politeness, even though it had required a gulp of water after every bite.

"No," he said patiently, "look up."

She craned her neck and squinted at the ceiling, almost directly above her. "That's mistletoe."

"Yes, I thought so too."

She lowered her gaze and met Cassian's, feeling her cheeks heat. "I didn't put it up."

He looked away, back at the bird he was still stripping down. "Neither did I."

Her lips tingled. She bit them, and made herself stop. "Someone getting ahead of themselves with Christmas decorations," she said airily, hopping off the counter and sliding past him.

He lifted his head. "Where are you going?"

"I - " She shrugged. "Dunno, my room or something."

He reached over and pulled a giant knife out of the knife block. "Here. Make yourself useful and chop some veggies for the soup."

"You're actually going to let me help in your kitchen?"

"It can't be insulted any worse than it was today," he said. "Leia Organa will be running the world one day, but she won't be feeding it."

"It was supposed to be her brother," she pointed out, taking the knife. "Just, his flight got cancelled and she insisted on doing it in his place. Why'd you let her?"

"Because I've never cooked a twenty-pound turkey before and I foolishly thought she had. Celery and carrots," he instructed, passing her the veggie platter. "Leave the tomato and broccoli."

"You still would have been salty if Luke had been cooking the bird," she observed, following orders.

"Yes, but we probably would have been able to eat it."

Jyn chopped up the veggies at his direction. When she was done, she leaned against the counter to watch as he performed culinary alchemy, combining seemingly random herbs and spices with the veggies and the remains of the turkey carcass.

"There," he said, covering it with water and setting the timer on his precious slow cooker. "Let it cook overnight and I'll add noodles in the morning."

She almost moaned. Turkey noodle soup while it was cold and rainy out sounded perfect. "Save some for me."

"Cooks' portion," he said and gave her a rare smile. "You make a good assistant."

"Great," she said. "A fallback in case the cybersecurity market goes to shit before I finish my thesis."

They washed the dishes they'd used, leaving them in the drying rack as the dishwasher chugged away at the dishes from dinner. It was comfortable and companionable and if Jyn thought of the mistletoe dangling above their heads about once a minute or so, she felt sure that Cassian didn't notice.

He nudged her as he was wiping his hands dry. "Want to come hang out in my room? Avoid the fake football?"

She felt the blush start somewhere in her stomach. She crossed her arms, smirking at him. "You hit on all your kitchen assistants?"

Behind his beard, his cheeks darkened. "What? I - no - I - "

Oh. Damn. Well. Fuck, this was awkward.

"I meant to watch the Cruz Azul game on my tablet," he said. "It'll be in Spanish."

She swallowed and attempted a joke. "What's the odds somebody's gonna trip over nothing, roll around like his femur is shattered, and get up five seconds later to jog off the pitch?"

"High," he said, sounding like their housemate Kay, who was going for his PhD in statistics. "Very high."

"Well, that's more like it. Yeah, all right."

Cassian rubbed his temples. He had a bitter headache and had just sent out a piteous text to the house group chat, begging for someone, anyone, to bring him a coffee.

He focused on the essay in front of him. "Alicia, I'd like to see you expand more on this point. You gloss over it somewhat. Professor Draven graded you down for that on your last essay, remember?"

The undergrad he was working with shook her mass of blond ringlets back over her shoulders and scooted her chair closer to his. Why, he couldn't imagine, because his office wasn't much bigger than a closet. "What do you suggest?" she asked.

Even though Alicia was in another section of Professor Draven's 202 class and thus had a different TA, she always came to see Cassian for help with her assignments. A lot of international students in the poli-sci department tended to find him, because of the number of languages he spoke. Alicia had been the most regular this semester, dropping by before every test and essay. Her heavy body spray, some kind of vanilla musk, filled his tiny office and intensified his headache.

He made some suggestions and she noted them down. "So what are your plans for Christmas?" she asked.

"Oh, I can't really afford to go back to Mexico for the holiday, so I'm staying here." He scanned along. "Now this conclusion is rather good, but it will only be strengthened if you expand on your earlier point."

"So you won't see your family? That's so sad, Cassi!" She put her hand on his arm. "My roommate and I are having a party after finals, before I leave for Berlin. Would you like to come?"

"Um," he said. "I - maybe we should get back to the essay."

A knock at the door interrupted him, and he looked up. Jyn leaned in. "Got a coffee," she said. "Want it?"

"Yes, please," Cassian said, reaching his hand out to take it. He took a sip. Three sugars, no cream, perfect. He smiled at her. "Do I owe you?"

"Your first-born, as agreed."

"Will you take a rain check?"

"No," she said, poker-faced, "I demand a baby right now. Make sure it's a nice plump one."

He chuckled and took another drink. His headache was already receding.

Alicia was studying them both, narrow-eyed. "Is that your girlfriend, Cassi?" she asked in German.

But it was Jyn who answered, in the same language. "Nope," she said, leaning against the doorjamb and slurping from her own takeout cup. Tea, probably, strong and sweet and milky. She was very English in that way. "Just his housemate and caffeine delivery person."

Alicia studied her for another moment, then shrugged and smiled. "Nice to meet you." She turned her back and said, "Can you tell me more about the parts in the middle that needed work?"

"Actually," Cassian said, handing her essay back, "I think we were about done."

"Oh - but -"

"I have to prepare for class," he said firmly. "Just work on those sections and it'll be an excellent final project."

"I still wanted to ask you - "

Even more firmly, he added, "I hope you have a good trip back to Berlin."

Alicia bit her heavily-glossed lip. "I'd still love to see you at my party. Here's my address." She scribbled on a piece of paper from her notebook and handed it to him. "Lots of fun, I promise!"

Cassian waited until she was gone to drop it in his trash can.

"Frequent flier?" Jyn asked, taking the seat she'd left behind.

Cassian shrugged, leaning over to crack the window. The air that rushed in was bitter-cold, but clean and fresh, chasing vanilla musk out. "She always wants a lot of help, but never really needs it. Her work is very good as is. I think she just wants reassurance." He opened a drawer and found a pack of crackers, offering her one.

Jyn took it and crunched in. "Or she's pursuing you."

He almost choked on his own cracker. "She's - I'm sorry?"

"She wants in your pants real bad."

"I'm sure she doesn't."

"I'm sure she does."

"She's just a very conscientious student, always works hard on her essays, arrives early for . . . office hours . . . " He trailed off. "Oh."

Jyn chortled into her tea. "Wake up and smell the perfume, Cassi."

He made a face. "Don't."

"Why not? Don't you like it?"

"No, but I've given up trying to correct her." He looked at his trash can, the party invitation taking on a whole different cast. "Hell."

"Not into it? She's pretty cute."

"No," he said. "And annoyed you had to tell me. I thought she just really liked international relations."

She patted his arm. "She probably does, but she's thinking of a whole different kind of relations." She looked up and froze. "And she's very determined about it, too."

"What now?" he said rather wearily.

She pointed and he looked up to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from his ceiling. He squinted. "How did that get there?"

"Was she early today?"

"Yes, but how would she get it up there?"

"Was your desk rearranged?"

Now that he thought of it, his keyboard was a little off-center, as if it had been moved and then moved back, maybe when a certain blonde German undergrad had climbed up on his desk to hang mistletoe from his ceiling.

Jyn laughed out loud. "For a journalist, Cassian, you're not very observant, are you?"

"I blame the headache," he said, reaching up for the mistletoe. It eluded the very tips of his fingers.

"I got it," she said, stepping up onto her chair and then nudging the keyboard aside so she could climb on the desk.

"Jyn - !"

"I'm fine, I've got it," she repeated, stretching up for the mistletoe. She had to go up on her toes to get at where Alicia had taped it to the ceiling, and yank hard. "What did she use?" she grunted, "superglue?" She yanked again, and the sprig came free, knocking her off-balance. She took a step into thin air.

Cassian grabbed her waist. "Steady!"

She teetered, folded over, grabbed his shoulders, and they both froze. She shifted carefully, getting both feet firmly back onto the desk.

"M'alright," she said.

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

He became aware that his arms were wrapped around her hips and his face was practically buried in her - ah.

And he'd knocked both their chairs aside when he'd grabbed for her. They were just far enough away that he couldn't hook one with his foot and drag it over, not with their combined balances so tricky.

"I'm going to bring you down," he said. "All right?"

"Uh-huh."

He shifted his grip, stepped back, and for a moment her whole soft, curving weight slid down his front. Her boots hit the industrial carpet with a thump, and they both let go very fast.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her face pink. She snatched up her tea, which had miraculously survived the shenanigans, and backed through the door. "I'm just - I - see you at home, yeah?"

"No problem," he said, watching her go.

Jyn walked in, went directly to the couch, and faceplanted.

Some time later, she heard the door open and Cassian's footsteps on the creaky old wood floors. "Jyn?"

"Ungh."

"Are you alive?"

"No."

He sounded amused. "What killed you?"

"An all-nighter," she groaned into the cushions. "A bitch of a project. Bugs. Bugs everywhere. It's raining and I forgot my umbrella so I'm cold and wet, and I didn't eat lunch, and I may have to do my project over again because like I said, it was a bitch."

"Anything else?"

She considered. "My foot hurts."

"Well," he said. "I guess I'll just leave your deceased corpse there to rot. It'll be very smelly." He walked out again, creak-creak-creak.

"Nice," she mumbled into the cushions. "Spending too much time around Kay, that's what he's doing."

She considered getting up. Changing out of her wet clothes. Heating up some soup. She groaned again, and downgraded her expectations to getting her wet socks off.

She'd just chucked them to the floor - splat - and was attempting to burrow her chilled feet into the divide between cushions when the floors creaked again. Something thick and warm settled over her. She grunted and turned her head, rubbing her fingers against the fuzziness of the blanket. "What - "

"Just in case you might be revived," Cassian said, crouching by her head.

She smiled at hm, pulling her feet in under the blanket. They began to sting and prickle with warmth. "It is the season of miracles and all that."

His hair fell damp and soft over his forehead, and his shoulders were rain-spattered, so he must have come in just after her. He could have changed clothes or gotten his own food, but he'd elected to get her a blanket instead.

She wanted to reach out and brush her fingers over his beard. Would it be scratchy or soft? She wanted to run her hand down his throat and feel the motion of his Adam's apple as he swallowed hard.

His eyes flicked up and he frowned.

She pulled her hand to her chest, afraid she might have already been reaching out to touch him. “What?”

He pointed, and she twisted her head on the cushion to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the reading lamp parked almost directly above their two heads.

“What - “ she said, looking back at him.

They both realized at the same time how close their faces were, and he lurched back, almost butt-planting before staggering to his feet. “Anyway,” he said. “I’ll leave you to warm up.”

“Thanks for the blanket,” she said. “You want it back?”

He shrugged, backing away. “I have more.”

When he was gone, she pulled it over her head with a groan.

Cassian was grading papers from his section when Jyn found him in the library. "Just who I was looking for," she said, plopping down.

"Have a seat," he said absently, opening up the next essay that had been electronically turned in at the last possible second.

"Have you thought about Christmas presents yet?"

Who could think of presents when he had forty-two essays to wade through and an analysis of the effects of European colonialism on Egyptian foreign policy due in three days? But he set his stylus down and said, "No, why?"

"Because I found the perfect thing for Bodes." She called up a website on her tablet and passed it over. "Look at it. No really. Look. Couldn't you imagine Bodhi's face when he unwraps that?"

Cassian studied the bomber jacket on Jyn's screen. Buttery chocolate-colored leather with a shearling collar, warm and thick and stylish. "He would love it. But the price - "

"I know, I know. That's why I'm showing you."

"Even half the cost is a lot," he said gently. "My budget is candy canes this year and even then it'll be the cheap ones."

"I can math," she said. "And you don't have to give me anything. Look, the more of us get on board, the smaller the individual cost will be. If I blackmail Leia and sweet-talk Han and you appeal to Kay's sense of logic - oh, hey, have you got anything on Han? Because I'm not so sure about my sweet-talking skills."

"You have this all planned out, don't you?"

"Bodes has had a shit year," she said. "We can't send him back to London to see his mum and sisters, but we can give him something."

He bumped his stylus against his lower lip. “Chewie will be in no problem, so ask him first and he'll make Han do it. And go by the Philosophy department to talk to Chirrut and Baze. They're both teaching this afternoon."

She grinned at him. "Right, I'll just have to catch Chirrut after his capstone seminar but before Baze gets out of his 101."

"Good thinking." Baze was always grumpy after a section of his Intro course, mumbling under his breath about pampered babies who wouldn't know Aristotelian ethics if it bit them on the ass. "Just don't let them pay for the whole thing. I want in. And I'll see who else I can round up."

"You're the best," she said.

Two boys walked up, holding hands. "Hi, uh - "

Jyn leaned back in her chair. "Can we help you?"

"Are you guys using this table?"

"Uh, pretty obviously yeah."

"It's just that we kind of wanted to sit here."

"There's like a thousand other tables on this floor alone."

Although, Cassian reflected, none of the others were tucked away in a sunny corner behind bookshelves, private and quiet.

"I know, but - " The shorter guy blushed. "This one has the mistletoe on the window."

They both looked up. Cassian swore under his breath.

Jyn got up so fast she almost knocked her chair over. "All yours, lads," she said.

When Jyn told her about the mistletoe issue, Leia was supremely unsympathetic. "So? You happen to see some Christmas decorations sometimes, and sometimes you happen to be with Cassian when you do. It's December and we live in a society that pushes a yearly orgy of consumerism with the promise that - "

"Blah blah late stage capitalism, yes, I know, but," Jyn said. "It's getting out of hand."

Leia looked skeptical.

“I swear to you," Jyn said darkly, "that if Cassian comes along, a piece of mistletoe will materialize over our heads within twenty seconds."

"Confirmation bias," Leia said.

"Is not!"

"Is," Leia said. "Mistletoe as a decoration is ridiculously common. Look, there’s some above the door right there.” Leia gestured at the door of the Echo Base Coffee Roastery. “And no Cassian.”

“Give it time,” Jyn said.

Leia rolled her eyes. “It's not that the two of you are making it manifest, It's just that you're hyper-aware of it when you're with him." She smirked at her. "And why is that?"

"Because it's haunting us," Jyn growled.

"Because you want to kiss him so bad you're drooling," Leia said and bit into her scone.

“So what if I am,” Jyn said, and slouched in her chair.

Leia stopped mid-chew. “Wow,” she said. “You really want to if you’re not denying it. So why haven't you just laid one on him?”

“He’s so calm,” she said. “I don’t know what he wants. He’s impossible to read. What if I slap lips on him and he screams and runs?”

Leia arched a brow. “Unlikely.”

Jyn pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know what to do.”

“Slap lips on him, as you so romantically put it?”

“Nope. Avoid him until Boxing Day. You Americans rip everything down at 11:30 pm Christmas Day, and it’s like the holiday never existed. No mistletoe, no problem.”

“Yes,” Leia grinned, “but then it’s all Valentine's Day, all the time.”

Jyn’s face worked and then she huffed. “I’ll see you later.”

“You know I’m riiiiight,” Leia sang into her coffee cup, and Jyn made an obscene gesture. She stomped toward the door. Before she could grab the handle, it opened to reveal Cassian, Kay on his heels.

He stopped.

She stopped.

As if they’d practiced it, they both looked up at the mistletoe at the same time.

“Right,” Jyn said, pink-faced. “See you later then. Bye.” She nodded at their other housemate. “Kay.”

“Jyn,” Kay said, and stepped around her and Cassian both, announcing, “I advise you to get out of the way and permit the door to close. The wind is very cutting today."

“Right,” Cassian said. For a moment, he and Jyn performed a sort of awkward, shuffling dance as they both tried to pass through in opposite directions. Finally, Jyn was out, Cassian was in, and the door was closed.

Through the window to the left of the door, Jyn caught Leia’s eye. She pointed upward and mouthed I told you! Didn’t I tell you?! She was gesticulating so wildly she almost ran into a pole, and Leia made a dismayed sound.

Cassian looked at her. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said, watching Jyn scramble out of sight. “Just got some coffee down the wrong pipe.”

He looked doubtful, but turned back to Kay. “This is exactly what I was talking about. Now do you believe me?”

“Confirmation bias,” Kay said, surveying the offerings in the pastry case.

Leia smirked into her coffee again.

Jyn turned in her last final on the Thursday before Christmas, and slept like the dead for fourteen hours.

She wasn't the only one. The house was full of post-finals zombies. When she shuffled out of her attic room and down the stairs in sock feet and ragged sweatpants, she found Chewie, eyes hidden behind his mop of hair, wandering around the second-floor hallway with a toothbrush in his mouth. "Done with the bathroom?" she asked.

He grunted, went back and spit out his toothbrush, came out, and grunted again. Interpreting that to mean all yours, she crawled into the shower and cranked it as hot as it would go. She counted herself lucky that she'd remembered to peel off her sweatpants first.

She felt more human by the time she snapped the water off and climbed out. The sweatpants went back on, but she promised herself that she'd trade them for clean clothes up in her room. Rambling out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over her hair, she almost crashed directly into Cassian. "Uh," she said. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Hi." Shit, she'd said that already. She slouched against the doorjamb, hoping she looked incredibly casual and not like she was feeling self-conscious about being caught by him in her rattiest clothing. "How's the grading?"

"Turned in," he said. "You? How did your final project turn out?"

"All in. It's probably shit, but it's in."

"I'm sure it's not," he said.

She shrugged. "How's everyone else holding up? Does Bodhi still gibber when you say the words high pressure system to him?" Their friend's aeronautical meteorology class had kicked his ass.

"He's downgraded to whimpers."

Somewhere off in the distance, the doorbell rang, with the four-note sequence of the Addams Family theme. (Chirrut thought it was funny.)

Jyn ignored it. Someone downstairs would get it and she didn't feel like moving. "Well, that's progress. We should go out tonight or something."

"Us?"

She choked. "Uh, yeah, all of us here in the house. Big, uh, big housemate post-finals party. Alcohol and cake and - " Debauchery, she almost said, and changed it to - "Frivolity."

"Maybe pizza to soak up the booze and sugar," he said.

"Right, yeah, that sounds good." She grinned. "The Mill?"

"That's a good choice. Han's so lazy he refuses to decorate for Christmas, so - "

"No mistletoe," she said brightly, and just like that it was all awkward between them.

She thought of Leia's skepticism that she'd be able to bury all this after Christmas. Especially with Valentine's Day coming up.

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and averted his eyes. "Jyn, I - " He choked on the rest of his sentence, staring at a spot just over her head.

With a certain feeling of inevitability, she followed his gaze to see a sprig of mistletoe, hanging from the light fixture.

She dropped her eyes again and met his.

He said, "I still don't know who's putting those up."

"Me neither."

"At least in here," he added.

"Right. Yeah. The Roastery and the library were probably . . . some poor worker who's getting paid minimum wage to climb on a ladder and - " She felt herself rambling and hiked up her chin. "Look, it's five days until Christmas. We don't know why these are suddenly turning up around us but it's just making it weirder and weirder, so I say we settle the question."

"The . . . question," he said carefully.

"Yeah. Let's just kiss and get it over with."

". . . That question."

The doorbell rang again, more insistently. Neither of them moved.

She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. "Well?"

He swallowed. She followed the motion of his Adam's apple down his throat and felt herself break out in a sweat, heat thrumming at all her pulse points. She wasn't sure when she'd decided she wanted to lick his neck, but she did, she did. Maybe some heretofore unsuspected infection of vampirism.

"Maybe we should," he said in a low rumble.

She unfolded her arms and rested her hands high up on his chest. Damn, he was tall. She tilted her head back to meet Cassian's eyes, sticking her chin out in a dare. Go on, then.

Downstairs, a babble of voices broke out. They could have been in the next zip code for all Jyn cared.

He put his hands to her waist, warm through her worn-thin Gerrera's Gym t-shirt, and leaned down. She shut her eyes just before his mouth brushed hers.

Dry, warm. Fleeting. Tendrils of agreeable heat began to curl through her belly.

Then he was gone.

She swallowed and opened her eyes again, feeling the tendrils of heat curl themselves into nothing.

Her body hummed with tension and dissatisfaction. Was that it? Was that little taste all she was getting?

Even though the light fixture and its stupid, stupid mistletoe was right above their heads, she couldn't read his expression.

She dropped her hands. "Okay. That's done, th-"

The last word was cut off by his mouth covering hers again. Her back hit the wall so hard the light fixture rattled. She ignored it, too busy winding her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him, kissing back hungrily.

This, now. This.

If the first kiss had been a taste, this was a five-course banquet. They devoured each other, tongues and teeth and lips and hands. His hands slid south of her waist, clamping on her ass and hauling her into the arc of his body. She whimpered and hooked one leg over his hip. He pressed her harder into the wall and licked into her mouth.

She gasped aloud when he left her mouth and started kissing her neck. Somehow, both her legs were locked around his hips, and his hands - Jesus, he had good hands. She felt like a volcano, all liquid heat inside and liable to go off at the slightest provocation.

"That's more like it," she said, and nipped at his ear.

"I've been wanting to do that since September," he said against her neck.

"So why didn't - ohhh," she groaned as his teeth scraped her skin.

"I'm usually very good at reading people. But I find you impossible to predict."

She grabbed his head in her hands and stared into his eyes. "Take me back to your room and fuck my brains out," she said. "How's that for a read?"

He rocked against her and demonstrated he had no problem with her proposed course of action. "Your room would be better."

"Yours is closer."

He kissed her hard. "I'm next to Kay."

"So," she mumbled into his mouth.

"He's asleep."

"So?"

"I don't intend to be quiet."

Oh. Oh damn. There went her last brain cell. "Right," she gasped. "My room it is."

Over at the Mill some hours later, Leia watched them snuggle in a booth with a little smirk.

She'd been keeping an eye on that, texting her brother with regular updates. Luke always liked hearing the gossip from her house, especially any news of a certain British-Pakistani aeronautics major. She'd always thought Cassian and Jyn had a certain similarity, under their wildly differing outer presentation. And of course they'd been thirsting for each other practically since they'd met. They made a cute couple.

The smirk turned into a blush when they started kissing and groping each other again. Okay, whenever they got over that in public, they would be a cute couple.

She turned toward the bar and the giant bowl of eggnog that Han Solo had rustled up. Call him what you like - and she did - he could pull a party together.

Bodhi was already there, pouring himself some. "Want one?"

"Absolutely," she said, leaning up next to him. "So - the mistletoe."

He ducked his head and made a sort of grunt.

"You were the one putting it all up in the house, right?" She'd noticed Bodhi decorating for the holiday as early as Thanksgiving morning.

"Yep," he said on a sigh, passing her a full glass.

She chortled and took a sip that threatened to curl her eyebrows. It was very strong. She blinked and shook her head. When her tongue had regained feeling, she pursued her line of questioning. "What, did you just get tired of watching them orbit around each other for the past few months?"

"Actually . . ." He looked down into his own glass. "It wasn't for them."

She sputtered out her next sip of eggnog. "Say again?"

He sighed. "I had a whole plan. Remember how Luke was supposed to come for Thanksgiving?"

"And his flight got cancelled, yeah."

"And then he was supposed to crash on our couch over break?"

"And then his advisor asked him to stay to work on some 'special project'?" She made a face. She wouldn't be forgiving Professor Yoda anytime soon for attempting to deprive her of her twin. "But - "

"Well, I figured if there was all this mistletoe up, it would be sort . . . of . . . romantic," he mumbled.

Her hand stopped. "Bodhi," she said, slowly and clearly. "How long have you been crushing on my brother?"

"Look, I wasn't trying to be creepy - "

"Of course you weren't," she said. "Just - how long?"

He shook his head. "It's dumb, it doesn't matter."

A voice from behind him said, "I'm interested."

Bodhi whipped around to see Luke standing behind him, face bright and hopeful. "What - you - when?"

"A few hours ago," Luke said. "I drove overnight. I was taking a nap in her room until just now." He toasted Leia with his beer. "She left me a text to come on over."

Bodhi was still goggling at him, the tips of his ears going brick-red. "But I thought - "

"I excused myself from the project. Professor Yoda's not too happy, but I don't care. So, uh, what was my sister saying? About you and mistletoe, and me?"

They wandered off, eyes only for each other, hands bumping. No need for mistletoe.

Leia laughed to herself and drank more eggnog.

"Hey, princess, look what I found!" Han leaned over the bar and dangled a sprig of mistletoe over their heads. "Pucker up."

She tossed her eggnog in his face and marched off, refusing to reflect on the not-small part of her that had been intrigued. It would take more than mistletoe to get her to lock lips with Han Solo.

FINIS

#Cassian Andor #Jyn Erso #rebelcaptain #rebelcaptainsecretsanta #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #boy it's been awhile since I used that tag #university AU #modern AU #everyone is an overworked and slightly crazed student #fluff #star wars

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annabelleb49 · 5 years ago

Text

Father Figure- Chapter 3

Rafael Barba x Reader

Notes: I’m struggling with storyline concepts for this series, so if anyone has suggestions send me some ideas through the “ask me anything” tab on my profile!

Chapter 3:

One secret you had been able to keep from Rafael, as well as the whole world, was your underage drinking. And not social drinking as many teenagers did at parties, but drinking to numb the pain of your home situation. You weren’t an addict, but sometimes you would steal alcohol from your parents cabinets and drink to forget for just one night. As much as you tried to drown out your father, living in the same household as him made that impossible sometimes. You had only gotten flat out drunk once, and you didn’t drink often. But alas, it was still unhealthy. You thought you could keep it under control, and in the meantime it was under control. Drinking only once in a while, only to the point of being tipsy. It couldn’t hurt right?

It was early December and Rafael had gotten two tickets from his office to see a broadway play. You seemed like the perfect person to take- he knew you didn’t get out often unless it was small hangouts with a few close friends. You couldn’t rely on your family to have a nice time, so he let the responsibility fall on him. One Saturday when you were in his office interning, he asked you.

“Hey Y/N, do you like broadway shows?” You looked up from your research, a little confused. Why was he randomly asking about broadway?

“Sure, I’ve never actually been to one before though. I’ve seen some recordings online, if that counts.” You turned back to your research for a rape case SVU was handling.

He cleared his throat. “McCoy gave me two tickets to a musical next week, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.” You were confused and flattered.

“Woah. Why don’t you take your mother? I’m flattered, though.” you set aside the research.

He let out a dry laugh. “My mother? She has no interest in the performing arts.” You noticed a slight blush before he continued. “Plus, if you’ve never seen one before...I figured it would be nice for you to get out a little...” You nodded slowly, understanding his meaning. You had opened up to him a lot, and he knew most of what you went through at home.

“Well, I’d love to. Thanks for the invite.” you accepted his offer.

He gave you the details and said he would come pick you up when the time came. You went home and told your mother about the invite to see the broadway show. She smiled. “I guess being a lawyer does have its perks! Free broadway tickets? Make sure to thank Mr. Barba for inviting you, Y/N.” Your father, who had been sitting in the living room, got up and retreated to his bedroom, and you could practically see the steam emitting from him. Your enthusiasm drained a little. Why did he hate seeing you happy, you wondered. Your mom, noticing this too, quickly excused herself to go work in her home office. You sighed. You loved your mom, but why couldn’t she ever offer you any comfort when she knew how you were treated by your own father?

Sunday rolled around and you wore a semi-formal outfit of black jeans and a white blouse, with your favorite black wool coat. Rafael arrived slightly early to pick you up, so he came in and sat down in the living room for a little to chat with your family. He was in a white dress shirt with a black jacket, black pants, and a black wool coat. (The one which he gave you the night he met you on the sidewalk.) Your dad was already in the living room, and your mom invited Rafael to sit on the couch along with her, with you across from them in one armchair and your father in the other armchair. Your father was slightly attentive- listening but not talking as Rafael and your mother discussed you and your internship. Forced to remain courteous, Rafael acknowledged your father, and you could see his ears redden as he said, “You’ve got a great daughter, Mr. Y/L/N.” Your father’s eyes narrowed.

“Who the hell do you think you are? If you don’t think I know exactly what you’re up to...” he said, pointing a finger in Rafael’s face. Rafael’s eyebrows shot to the top of his head and his face reddened.

“Excuse me?” he said, green eyes flashing with anger.

“I know exactly what you’re up to with my daughter, you son of a bitch. Hiring her as your intern, taking her out for dinner all the time? You think I don’t know you’re sleeping with my daughter?” your father spat. You sat there in shock.

Rafael was fuming by now. He stood up, fists clenched into tight balls. “Are you seriously accusing me of sleeping with Y/N? You do know I’m the ADA of sex crimes, right?”

Your father stood up too, arguing with him across the coffee table. “That’s right, and I’m going to get you fired for what you’re doing to my daughter. She’s my daughter, don’t act all fatherly and take her out. She’s not your daughter!”

Your mother, as always, escaping having to deal with your family issues, grabbed your younger brother who was sitting in the corner of the living room playing with his tablet and took him to his room, leaving you alone with Rafael and your father.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Rafael spat back. He gestured towards you, “I’m more of a father to Y/N than you’ll ever be. That’s right, she’s told me all about you and your ‘fatherly ways’.” He emphasized ‘fatherly ways’ in a mocking tone.

This time your father turned to you. “You little slut. Go, go have sex with your new dad. You’ll regret giving up your real father. Don’t you forget who pays for everything you own!” You sat stock still, still trying to process what was transpiring in front of you.

It finally clicked- all those times when your father radiated anger when you mentioned Rafael or saw him dropping you off from a night out together. You realized how much of a narcissist he was- he was both jealous of Rafael taking on a father role and at the same time thought you were sleeping with him. He simply viewed you as a possession. Even if you were sleeping with Rafael (which would never happen!), you knew he wouldn’t care about that nearly as much as having you, his object of torture, taken away.

Rafael put a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, let’s get out of here.” You shook yourself out of your daze and scurried out of the apartment, Rafael right behind you. Before Rafael slammed the door, he said one last thing to your father. “Y/N was never your daughter. You don’t deserve her.”

You were determined to not let that altercation ruin your night out with Rafael. You put on a mask, forcing yourself to bury the feelings. In the elevator, he tried to comfort you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He shook his head sadly. “Don’t let it get to you.”

You smiled wryly. “It’s ok. Can we not talk about it? I’m fine, really. We should enjoy tonight to the fullest.” He nodded, dropping the subject.

The broadway musical was even better than you anticipated. He took you to see the Cabaret revival, and you found yourself forgetting about the events that transpired that night, fully immersed in the show. During the number ‘Two Ladies’, You could see a flush creep up Rafael’s neck as he squirmed beside you awkwardly. You laughed, it was so funny how he, a grown man, who worked in sex crimes, could be so easily embarrassed by these things. The catholic school boy that he was. Once the show ended and you started leaving the theatre, the dreaded feeling came back to you- you had to go home now. Back to be in the same room as your father. After what happened just hours before, you felt nauseous just thinking of going home.

Maybe it was fate or God working in mysterious ways, but as you stepped outside onto the sidewalk, the streets were covered in snow. In fact, it wasn’t just any light snow, it was thick and practically blizzarding. Rafael checked the weather app on his phone. “It’s an emergency weather alert. An unexpected blizzard, it says we need to take shelter immediately.” The streets were filled with people scurrying to hail taxis and make it back home before transportation became impossible, which would be soon if you didn’t act quickly. Rafael sighed beside you. “I live pretty close. I think you’re going to have to spend the night at my place. There’s no way you’re going to make it back to your place before the blizzard completely blocks everything.”

He hailed a taxi and it sped back to his place. You called your mom inside the cab, updating her on the weather and how you couldn’t make it home tonight. She didn’t put up much a fight, and you guessed maybe she knew it would be better for you to stay away from your father for a while. You were in Rafael’s apartment in no time. It was a nice apartment, but you noticed how cold it seemed. Like he was never there, and there wasn’t any homeliness to it. He handed you an old Harvard t-shirt and some sweatpants and directed you to the bathroom where you took a long, hot shower to clear your thoughts. He gave you his bed and said he would sleep on the couch. It was late and you were tired, but not tired enough to sleep. No. This was a different type of tired. You were tired. Tired of your father torturing you all the time. You laid in bed a long time, never falling asleep. Once you saw the lights outside turn off and heard no more movement, positive that Rafael was asleep on the couch, you allowed the pent up emotion flush out, sobbing silently into the pillow. Tonight the pain was the most intense you’d ever felt- that fight your father instigated was like a thousand paper cuts to your soul and you felt horrible that Rafael had to deal with that, and he had been so nice to you these past months. Fuck it, you thought. You crept out of the bedroom, past a sleeping Rafael on the couch into the kitchen. Using your phone’s light to guide, you opened one of the scotch bottles on the counter and poured it into a glass. You downed it in one gulp. It burned like hell, but you needed to get drunk tonight. You just had to forget. Feeling all your restraint dissolve, you poured yourself glass after glass, until you you felt your limbs go numb and the clatter of you pouring another glass woke Rafael up.

“Y/N?” he said groggily, reaching to flip on a light switch. “Oh my God Y/N what are you doing?!” He leapt off the couch and ran over to you, yanking the glass of scotch away which you were in the process of downing. You had downed a lot of scotch, but you had done so in a very short amount of time so much of it hadn’t kicked in yet. With bleary eyes you tried to protest.

“Give it back Rafi.” you said, attempting to reach for it.

He looked at you with bewildered eyes. “Oh Y/N, what have you done?” He looked at the bottle of scotch and his eyes widened at how much you drank. “What have you done?” he repeated.

Not quite drunk but very much wobbly, you collapsed into his arms. He placed the glass back on the countertop and carried you bridal style to the couch. He rushed back to the kitchen, bringing you two slices of leftover pizza. “Eat this, quickly. It’ll counteract some of the scotch you drank.”

Your plans of getting drunk and forgetting the pain were being foiled. Slightly slurring your words, you protested. “Please Rafi, let me forget tonight. Just tonight.” You looked at him with teary doe eyes.

He shook his head. “You’re too young and that was way too much alcohol. It’s dangerous.” Too sad and almost-drunk to protest anymore, you ate the slices in silence. He brewed some coffee while you ate, and you sipped it carefully once you finished the pizza. Once he deemed you lucid enough to talk (which wasn’t too lucid, but oh well) he wrapped an arm around you and let you lean on his shoulder. “Y/N, you know you can tell me everything right?”

You nodded against his shoulder. He reached around and wiped away some tears that were dripping down your face. “So tell.” he prodded. You took a shuddering breath.

“You already know most of it. Sometimes the pain is too much to escape though. I fucking hate living under the same roof as him. I hate it when he yells at me but I hate it more when he ignores me.” You held back a sob. “You heard him today. Not once did he call me by my name- he just called me ‘his daughter’. I’m just a possession he owns and likes to torture.” You held back your sobs and took more shuddering breaths to control yourself.

He stroked your hair. “Let the tears fall, Y/N. It’ll be good to release them.” So you did. You stopped restraining yourself and you cried against his chest, soaking his shirt with your despair. Finally, your tears dwindled. “Listen to me, Y/N. I know it’s hard to forget him, but don’t let him bother you. I’m here for you. Focus on the people that love you. There are so many people that love you, don’t you ever forget that.”

You let the most painful words tumble out of your mouth. “He loves my brother so much. Why can’t he love me too?” you whispered the last sentence, almost afraid to say it.

He brought your face up to look him in the eyes. His emerald eyes were kind and earnest as he comforted you. “Let me tell you something I have never told anyone else. My father abused me, too. But physically.” You widened your eyes, wrapping an arm around his stomach. “He used to beat my mami and me, a lot. He’s been gone 15 years and the pain is still very real.” He leaned his head against yours. “But it gets better. Once you are out of that house, everything is better. Don’t feel like you are stuck, because you still have your whole life in front of you.”

“I’m sorry you went through that.” you whispered. He had spent so much energy being there for you, and you had no idea he had been abused by his father. “I wish you were my dad.” The alcohol had loosened your tongue and you were letting all your inner thoughts spill out. You felt him suck in a breath. “Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” you said, feeling guilty for letting all your thoughts run free.

“No, it’s ok.” He paused. “I hope I’ve done well in filling in the hole where your father should have been.”

You teared up again. “You’ve done more than that. Although you shouldn’t have to. I’m sorry.” You hugged him tighter.

“Stop apologizing. I’m happy to be here for you. You’re the daughter I never had.” And when you looked up, you saw he had teared up as well.

You sat there cuddled against him for a long time, until you drifted off as there was still a lot of alcohol in your system. Once he could feel that you were asleep, he carried you back into the bedroom and tucked you in, placing a kiss on your forehead before retiring back to the couch.

Tomorrow, when you were completely sober, you could talk more.

Author’s Note: This one took me soo long to write. I struggled with where to end the chapter.

Tag list! @sturchling @crying-river @lovebennycolon @barbasrose

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #raul esparza #law and order svu #barba #svu fanfiction #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x oc

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msbarrows · 4 years ago

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Cataracts - What Surgery Is Like

As previously mentioned, I’d developed cataracts and am now going through surgery for them, and have elected to document a bit about what it’s all like from my viewpoint. Mostly because I think it’d make a nice reference for anyone wanting to write with some degree of accuracy about what it’s like from the inside.

This post contains a description of the surgical process involved and what that actually feels like, I’m trying not to be overly graphic but I’m also not elliding over any of the grosser bits (thankfully and surprisingly very little).

First off, a descriptiong of the preliminaries. This started for me with my vision going blurry over the last couple of years, and finally getting around to visiting my old optomitrist when I happened to be in Toronto over last Christmas (as my one up north just retired a couple years ago, and I hadn’t replaced her yet). Of the several potential causes for the vision loss I was experiecing, what I had turned out to be cataracts, of the variety that occurs at the back of the lens and therefor doesn’t cause easily-visible clouding. Which I actually said “Oh, thank god!” to when the optomitrist told me, since they are the absolute easiest thing to fix, while some of the other options (detached retina, or diabetes-related macular degradation, to name a couple) are much less so. Then he gave me a reference to an opthamologist. Thanks to COVID-19, it was this fall before I was finally able to actually get to the clinic and see her.

From my point of view, the process then went pretty quickly. Note that I was at an eye institute that specializes in cataract treatment; everything is contained in one building (a nicely renovated Victorian brick house in the Annex area of Toronto). So all tests and surgery are done on premises.

First appointment there, they did the same sort of vision tests my optomitrist generally does, plus some extra inner-eye photography to get a good look at what was going on. This was done by two different people, one doing the eye-chart related tests and a different one doing the photography. Then I met briefly with my doctor, who looked over my questionnaire (which included questions like whether near, mid, or distance vision was most important to me, and was there a focal distance I particularly needed to be glasses free for, etc.), and that I didn’t need nor have interest in a lens replacement that wasn’t covered under our provincial health care.

A week later I returned for them to perform eye measurement tests, which are used as a basis for manufacturing the replacement lens. They measure the size and shape of the eye, and mostly just involved staring into various machines while photos are taken. The weirdest one, which they did last, involved dripping numbing drops into my eyes, and then lightly pressing a small sensor to multiple places both directly on the eyeballs and then on the closed lids. Something to do with viscosity I’d assume.

And now for a description of the general surgical process, which you can also find summarized (or in more detail) at a number of medical web sites. In my case, it was a pretty basic surgery being performed; the opthamologist needed to make a small slit in the outer layer of my eye, used a tiny probe to break down the lens using ultrasound waves, vacuum out the broken down lens, then use a largish needle to insert a folded plastic lens into the eye, where it would unfold within the capsular space and could be tweaked as needed into the correct position. The cut in the eye is tiny enough that it usually doesn’t even need stitching, apparently.

I was asked to arrive at a specific time, and had to start applying dilating drops to my eyes an hour, half-hour, and five minutes before leaving for the clinic. No nail polish or facial makeup. Preferable wearing comfortable pants and a loosely short-sleeved button front shirt without any undershirt or long underwear beneath it (which turns out to be a “just in case things go crazily sideways” measure; they didn’t actually need to access anything on my torso).

The first step after I arrived at the clinic was being dressed in PPE - one of their own disposable masks to be sure I was wearing a good enough one (that wasn’t coated in whatever mine had picked up outside), a hair cap, a long-sleeved thigh-length blue plasticized robe (it had thumb holes to prevent the sleeves from slipping), and booties over my shoes.

Then I was taken to their surgical floor, where a nurse began a series of eye drops. These included more dilation, an antispectic, and an antibiotic, that I can remember - multiple drops of all. She also gave me a teeny tiny pill to place under my tongue and let dissolved, which contained a small dose of a relaxant/anti-anxiety med (Sorry, she told me the name of it at the time but it’s dropped out of my memory). I didn’t notice any particular change in my mood, but then I’d been counting slow deep breaths since arriving (4 seconds in, 4 seconds out...) to help keep myself relaxed and give myself something to focus on that wasn’t omfg I’m going to be awake during this! Because yeah, not having a clue what it was going to be like was stressful. Nurse also took my blood pressure to be sure I was fine in that regards, and put a sticker on the gown to remind the doctor that it was my right eye being done that day.

After a brief wait, I was moved into one of the surgical theatres, where there was a dentist chair they sat me in, then connected a blood pressure cuff, fingertip monitor (hence the no nail polish rule) and sensors on the backs of both hands and one ankle (I’m assuming those were measuring a mix of blood oxygenation and heartbeat, with the ankle one making sure my feet were still getting blood when I was spending the surgery in what ended up as a tipped-over-backwards with head lowest position). They then rinsed my eye and the orbital area with bactine (very yellow vision while that happens), then patted the area around the eye dry.

The doctor sat at my head, and applied a medical drape with a pre-cut adhesive-edged opening over my eye, then peeled off a translucent applique that was over the hole. Then they applied medical clamps that held my eyelids in the open position (which thanks to the numbing drops, I didn’t feel at all). A brightly lighted microscope was then positioned over the eye, and I was told to stay as still as possible and stare at the red dot in the lighted area. The doctor then did the surgery as described above. From my point of view, there was very little to feel; occasional dull pressure, some random coldness that I believe was the eye being irrigated. I could hear the occasional very quiet noise the probe made as the lens was sucked away, but mostly it was just staring at the red light as well as I could while my vision distorted oddly and I continue counting breaths. Within what felt like no more than 5-10 minutes (if that), it was all over with.

They had me continue to lie there for a couple minutes while they peeled off the drape, wiped the eye area clean, and removed all the sensors, then a brief rest before having me sit up.

I blinked once or twice, and... DAMN! Sudden near-perfect vision in an eye that hasn’t seen clearly without help since I was in single digit ages. And the saturation. The detail.

Now, my left eye of course still has a cataract (it gets treated next week). I’d been telling people for a while that basically all my right eye was seeing was blur, so my left eye was doing most of the seeing, and I thought my left eye wasn’t anywhere near as bad as my right. With my right eye now seeing perfectly, I could now alternate opening eyes from side to side, and see just how badly (and irregularly) blurred and yellowed the left lens actually is. To which I can only saw, WTF, how was I even seeing anything at all!?

Then they had me sit for a while in the waiting area, where the doctor came and double-checked I was fine, and gave me a kit in a plastic bag of a card that identifies that I have an interocular lens (and info about it), a prescription for two different eye drops (antibiotic and anti-inflamatory) which was enough for both this eye and the eye getting operated on next week, and a shield to wear at night for the first five nights, to be sure I don’t accidentally rub it or put pressure on it.

Then I put on sunglasses (because hugely dilated eye) and walked out.

Side note - they won’t do your operation unless you have a ride home arranged; because that tiny pill means you’re in a slightly altered state, among other reasons. Good thing it was my brother and not, say, a taxi, since among other things it took us three drugstores to find one that actually had both kinds of eyedrops in stock, yay super fun.

Also, remember me talking about the starburst rays I was seeing around lights due to cataracts? While my eye was still dilated (which lasted until after midnight) I was seeing what I can only describe as ‘Ferris wheels’ - a burst of rays expanding out like the spokes of a wheel, and ending in an uneven ring of dots of bright light, each wheel matching the colour of the light causing it. Looked wild at night. Thankfully that effect has now gone away.

Had a follow-up appointment this morning where they did an eye chart and the rebounce test where they puff air at your cornea, and the opthamologist says the vision in that eye tested as 20/20 (WOOO! Finally something good with that number). I can see sharply and clearly for blocks from the mid-range on out. Sadly when I try to use my computer, tablet, etc (near-range and close vision) the eye can’t focus down far enough; some of that may improve over the next month or two as the eye continues healing, and adapting to the lens. In the meantime my sister suggested I try a pair of her reading glasses and, yay, that worked. I am now planning that after my follow-up appointment for next week’s surgery on the left eye, I’ll run around and pick up 2-3 pairs of reading glasses of various strengths (which I will get will depend on what seems to work best with arm’s length and close-in viewing), to carry me through until I go back to an optomitrist in a month or three, and get my vision evaluated to see if I need actual prescription reading and/or far distance glasses.

In the meantime, apart from computer/tablet use, I am glasses free. I can’t even remember ever having such sharp, clear, and saturated vision (since I’ve been in glasses for such a long time). You know the “oh, trees are made of leaves!” effect? I am getting that with every single thing I look at. Oh, that’s how much grey is in my hair? Weird, I never noticed this wall was textured before. Oh geez, that text over there is so small and yet I AM READING IT. I mean, even with glasses I probably was never able to read that from this distance! Etc ad infinitum.

It’s just so, so nice.

And that’s with just one eye finished. I am now really looking forward to next week’s surgery. Stress? What stress!?

#Cataracts #Me Myself and I #If you've ever wondered what having cataract surgery was actually like...#CW: Surgery Details

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theshatteredrose · 4 years ago

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Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 19) - Original Fiction

AN: I was planning of having the entire series through Eishirou’s POV, so readers learn along with him. But I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have small segments from Zayne’s POV just to have him fawn over Eishirou :3c

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 19:

Zayne had no idea what time it was. He truly didn’t care. After the hectic and completely disorganised evacuation of Flutterlight Forest, time seemed meaningless. It moved quickly in moments of chaos. Moved slowly in the quiet aftermath.

And it seemed to drag on even more as he sat by Eishirou’s hospital bed in the medical wing.

The bed was standard for its purpose. And yet it seemed to dwarf the slender Passive that rested upon it.

Eyelids gently closed, hiding his golden eyes. Soft, light pinks parted ever so slightly to offer the softest of breaths into the oxygen mask. Soft brown hair against stark white pillows. Skin a washed-out, unhealthy pale. Yet, colours were starting to return to his cheeks.

White sheets. A silently beeping heart monitor. The methodical drip of saline IV fluid.

All Zayne could think was that Eishirou didn’t deserve to be in such a state. In such a place.

But he was.

Zayne sighed and ran an agitated hand through his hair. He wanted to get up and pace. Get up and do something. But he didn’t want to leave his seat, leave Eishirou’s bedside.

So he sat. And as he sat there, he started to think. He honestly couldn’t remember much of what happened at that tower. Fleeting images. Possibly like the ones that Eishirou saw in Recordings. There was a blinding white light. There was Eishirou on the ground, clearly in agony. And after that, as ShadowDwellers continued to gather around, he saw red.

Those ShadowDweller bastards did something to Eishirou. They had to be responsible.

Zayne had felt an absolute fury. One he had never felt before. Elites were trained to be cool and calculating in battle. Show intelligence and skill in all attacks.

But Zayne pretty much lost his shit.

He’d admit it. He lost it. Who wouldn’t in his position?

Other Elites. Of course.

…Who gave a shit what they thought? Surrounded by ShadowDwellers. Their healer in unknown agony. Trapped in an ancient tower. An injured member of another team unconscious and in the crossfire. Let those other Elites claim they could have done better.

They couldn’t have. Had it been another team, they’d be dead. He was certain of it.

Zayne huffed an irritated sigh and leaned back into the hospital chair. He tilted his head back to stare up vacantly at the ceiling for a moment. He soon tilted his head back down and raised his left arm.

And he stared down at his forearm.

There were no marks. Not a wound. Not a scar. There wasn’t even any swelling. Absolutely no sign that he had received any injury.

Yet, that was the arm that was penetrated by three or four steel-like bards. An attack by a ShadowDweller. One that tried to attack Eishirou.

He had moved instinctively.

His whole life, he had been trained to focus on defeating ShadowDweller first and foremost. Anything, everything else came second. But back then, in that tower, Zayne’s first priority was Eishirou’s safety.

And he was going to use any means necessary to ensure it.

Eishirou needed it. He deserved it.

Eishirou…

He was unlike anyone he had met before.

Zayne remembered their first meeting. How Eishirou cheerfully greeted him. How Zayne was slightly taken aback by how…cute the guy was. Despite having just met the guy, he was somewhat startled by how immediate his protective instincts were.

And he remembered how Eishirou had subtly winced, unconsciously backing away from him ever so slightly when his golden eyes landed on Zayne’s Elite badge. He managed to maintain his smile, yet it had lost some of its warmth. Replaced with trepidation and resignation.

It was then that Zayne knew the guy was a Passive.

There was a moment where Zayne thought the guy would turn and flee. Like other Passives in the past. Yet, he stayed. Smiled apologetically when he revealed Zayne’s team was escorting them on a mission. Continued to engage with him, even after knowing he was an Elite.

It might have been because of Zayne’s dismissiveness of he being a Passive. But that wasn’t it. Not fully.

There was no reason for him to indulge Zayne’s curiosity. No reason to talk openly about anything but work and ShadowDwellers. No reason to speak with him so informally.

But he did.

And it was in those short conversations that Zayne’s protective instincts heightened. Something in him just decided; Eishirou was adorable and delicate, and he had to protect him no matter what.

It was an odd feeling, he had to admit.

But he trusted his instincts. Not in the way he was taught. But he trusted his gut all the same.

Zayne had never met anyone so genuinely…excited about, well, anything before.

The way his eyes lit up; his amber gaze practically shimmering. The smile on his lips was broad and genuine. How his prattled on and on, almost to the point of breathlessness.

And how…happy he looked when Zayne expressed interest.

Zayne reached forward to idly touch a lock of Eishirou’s hair, allowing the soft brown strands to fall between his fingers and back onto the pillow.

Passives were…fragile.

Zayne needed to be more cautious. Be more careful.

And be far more protective.

The sound of sharp footsteps prompted Zayne to pull his hand back and push himself back into his chair. He turned his head toward the door to the small ward and noticed a member of medical staff.

The blue-haired professor, Neriah if he wasn’t mistaken, stepped into the ward once more. His glasses sat on the edge of his nose as he concentrated on the tablet in his hands. He idly glanced up, likely to check up on Eishirou, only to do a subtle double-take. He was obviously surprised and startled that Zayne was still there. By Eishirou’s bedside. Still dressed in his bloodied clothing.

“You should get some rest,” the professor stated, not suggested.

“Elites are trained to stay awake and alert for up to four days,” Zayne responded without much thought.

Neriah, however, arched an eyebrow. He was surprisingly not intimidated by him, by his words or presence. He simply nodded his head as he walked around him, unconcerned, and stood by the foot of Eishirou’s hospital bed.

“Oh, I know,” he responded. “Unlike Researchers who do it because they’re surprisingly stupid.”

The corner of Zayne’s mouth twitched into a smirk but chose not to otherwise respond. Eishirou had mentioned previously that he, along with other researchers, had the habit of forgetting to eat and sleep.

Still, it was nice that the Professors of this academy weren’t afraid of Elite students. Not like the one he transferred from…

“Though, since you’re still here; remember anything previous to the evacuation?” Neriah suddenly asked. Likely just wanting notes for his files.

Zayne huffed up a breath to blow a strand of hair from his eyes. “Nah. I remember losing my shit. And then doing what it takes to get out of there.”

Neriah nodded his head idly as he tapped at the screen of his tablet. “Running on adrenaline and instinct, then.”

Protectiveness and rage, too, probably.

“As the adrenaline declines, you may begin to remember more,” Neriah continued as he sighed something off with his tablet.

Zayne nodded his head absentmindedly as his gaze shifted back toward Eishirou. Disappointed that he was as still and as pale as before. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed quietly.

“He has extreme mana depletion and exhaustion,” Neriah unexpectedly explained. “He’s unlikely to awaken for a day or so.”

Zayne was unable to prevent a frown from appearing on his lips as a twinge of guilt gnawed at him. Mana depletion. Through the continuous use of mana. Was his condition from the numerous Recordings he had pulled? Or was it because he had healed Zayne of his injuries?

No, it had to be both.

“He’s in stable condition and I’ve got my rounds,” Neriah said as he walked toward the door. “Shout if you need anything.”

“Sure,” was all Zayne uttered as he watched the professor walk out the door. The sound of his footsteps fading away.

Back in that stifling silence, Zayne leaned his head back against his chair and stared up at the ceiling.

What happened? What actually happened in that tower?

A bright light. Blinding. And when it faded, Eishirou was…on the ground, clutching his chest with blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. There was something else. Something red floating before him. He…regarded it. He seemed to know what it was.

And after that…?

Eishirou had…healed him. Somehow. Without touching him. But Zayne knew, beyond doubt, that it was Eishirou that had healed him. That gentle, warming presence. He felt it before. When he battled against that Centipede ShadowDweller.

Only the healing was far stronger than before.

And he felt intense anger after that.

It was protective. Primal in a way.

The ShadowDwellers had swarmed him after his wounds had healed. He…remembered that part. After…after Eishirou fell to his knees, blood trickling from the side of his mouth, the ShadowDwellers suddenly reacted differently. Instead of focusing on Eishirou, like they had done previously, they turned on Zayne.

And he slashed the shit out of them. They attacked him in return. Some managed to land, yet…he didn’t feel any of them.

He remembered feeling a sense of satisfaction when they circled him. Slopping and scurrying about. He remembered thinking; “good, now I can kill you all at once.”

The sooner he killed the bastards, the sooner he could get to Eishirou. And get him to safety.

That was all that mattered.

Zayne was pulled from his musings upon another presence entering the room. He instinctively looked over and watched as Professor Chryses, or Jacob, Eishirou’s godfather, entered the room. His face was drawn, his expression sombre.

It was a tight expression. One used when they were reigning in their worry and concern. He had that same expression when he met them in the helicopter bay with the medical team.

Eishirou looked so…small when Jacob hastily took him from Zayne’s arms and held him in his own.

He really was a mountain of a man. Even by Elite standards. He looked like he could be an Elite. But he was a Passive. He definitely was a Passive. He didn’t act like an Elite. Didn’t walk around with a sense of superiority. Or had his head shoved clean up his own ass.

More importantly, he didn’t treat Passives like shit.

Jacob was Eishirou’s godfather, but Zayne had to admit that he was surprised that the man was so openly affectionate about the kid.

As Jacob walked into the room, his attention was forced entirely on Eishirou. It actually took him a moment to realise that Zayne was also present. When he did, he was momentarily surprised.

“Oh, you’re still here, Zayne?” he questioned, curiosity in his voice as he walked over to stand on the other side of Eishirou’s bed. “I’d figured Sigmund would have snared you by now.”

Zayne shrugged, deciding not to mention that he hadn’t told Professor Sigmund where he was. The stoic Elite professor could find him on his own if he needed him so badly. Though, he had to admit he was surprised that Earnesta hadn’t hunted him down.

“You did a good job bringing Eishirou home,” Jacob suddenly said. “And you protected him the best you could. You have my thanks.”

Zayne snapped his head toward him, unable to prevent a frown. Thanks? What for? Eishirou was lying pale as a ghost on a hospital bed. He hadn’t moved for hours. Unlikely to do for hours more.

He had done nothing to be thankful for.

“Not the ideal condition, sure,” Jacob said with a forced half grin. But his expression soon took on a sullen, nostalgic hue. “As long as he’s home. We can deal with anything after that.”

…Eishirou was truly cared for, wasn’t he? Yet, his own godfather seemed to trust him. Trust him to protect someone so important to him.

Despite everything that had happened, Zayne felt his resolve strengthen. He had been given the position of ensuring Eishirou’s safety. And he was going to see to that.

No matter what.

… … … … …

Eishirou was in that strange state of semi-consciousness. Where he was awake, but too tired and too comfortable to move. His bed was warm and soft, and his body felt too heavy to attempt to move. He was conscious enough to know that he wasn’t dreaming and to have the coherent thought that he should get up and be productive. But tired and lazy enough to simply roll over and go back to sleep.

Hmm. He couldn’t remember if he had any dreams last night. He must have been exhausted and just fell into bed.

“Eishirou? Can you hear me?”

Huh? Jacob? What was he doing in his room? Why did he have to wake him up? He was tired and comfortable, and just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Come now, Eishirou, I need you to wake up now.”

Strange. There was a sense of urgency in Jacob’s voice. He had better wake up and see what he wanted. It must be important.

It was a struggle to open his eyes, surprisingly. His eyelids felt heavy and could only muster to weakly flutter them open. He found himself staring up at a while ceiling. A ceiling he wasn’t all that familiar with.

A movement from the corner of his eye prompted Eishirou to roll his head to the side. Though his vision was blurry, he could make out the form of someone familiar.

“…Jacob?” Eishirou murmured as he squinted his eyes. His throat felt unexpectedly dry and tight.

Jacob looked undeniably haggard; dark rings under his eyes, hair a mess, and rather pale. He, however, managed a smile as he ran a hand through his short hair. “Christ, kid, you had me age ten years.”

He was…worried?

Eishirou furrowed his brow and swallowed thickly. “Where am I…?”

A movement from the right side of the bed immediately prompted Eishirou to roll his head to the other side. He was surprised to find that Neriah was there, too. Sat on the right side of his bed. A stethoscope around his neck and a medical clipboard in his hand.

“You’re in the infirmary,” Neriah was the one to answer. “You’ve been here for twenty-four hours.”

Infirmary? He was back at the academy already?

Wait, a day? He had been sleeping for the entire day? Wow. He hadn’t done that before!

“Ok, kid, I need you to tell me what happened,” Jacob said, his tone serious. “Ernesta told me as much as she could, but I need to hear it from you now.”

Eishirou rolled his head back to blink up at the ceiling. What happened…?

He was on an assignment, wasn’t he? To Flutterlight Forest. To investigate the forest and the underground chamber. He remembered walking through tunnels. A cave painting. A recording. And then…

Missing Elites. They found one.

A white tower. A small key. A puzzle on the door.

Inside the tower was a stained glass mosaic.

They were then ambushed by ShadowDwellers. Humanoid ShadowDwellers.

And then…

Eishirou’s eyes widen and he sprung up in bed. “Wait, the Red Lily!”

His vision abruptly blurred and his hearing was drowned out by his pulse throbbing in his head. His world tilted, and so did he. He had to desperately grasp at the bedsheets to prevent himself from toppling out of the bed.

“Easy!” Jacob immediately scolded as he reached out to grasp him by the shoulder and guided him to stay upright. “Your blood pressure is low so no sudden movements.”

Eishirou dropped his head forward to his chest and he grasped at his forehead with his right hand. His hearing was still slightly impaired by the throbbing in his head. He felt somewhat nauseated, too.

He pushed all that aside as he grasped at Jacob’s arm and looked directly at him. “Where’s Zayne?”

“He’s been here,” Jacob pacified. “Neriah here had to kick him out so that he could get some rest himself.”

“He wasn’t hurt?”

“No, not an injury to be found,” Neriah was the one to answer, which prompted Eishirou to turn to in his direction in time to note a half smile on his lips. “From what I understand, he had been by your side the throughout the entire ordeal.”

Eishirou uttered a sigh of relief. Good, he wasn’t harmed.

“But, what about Mikiel?”

Neriah unexpectedly rolled his eyes. Yet there was a sense of fondness in the motion. “Full of questions as always. He’s alive. His injuries have been largely healed. Yet, he still lies in a coma.”

Eishirou couldn’t supress a wince at the memory. “He had swelling of the brain.”

“And a skull fracture, I know,” Neriah replied as he nodded his head idly. “He’s stable. You did what was necessary. You kept him alive.”

That was honestly the best Eishirou could do with the circumstances he was given. At least Mikiel was alive. He was sure they would be able to handle anything that followed.

But that led to a few more questions. He was in a bed. In a medical bay. In the infirmary. His last memory was ShadowDwellers and the sudden appearance of the Red Lily. Nothing after that.

“How did I end up here?” Eishirou asked as he motioned idly to the room around him. “I don’t remember the journey back.”

Jacob leaned back into his chair that had been pulled close to the bed. “Team 3 contacted Communications requesting an emergency evacuation,” he explained as he folded his arms across his chest. “Zayne was the one to ensure your safety. I know about the white tower and the stained glass. Zayne informed me. I haven’t had the chance to inspect the report or photos, but I’ll get to those later.”

Didn’t have the time? That meant he had stayed by his bedside for the entire time, didn’t it?

“Now, lie down and relax,” Jacob ordered lightly. “I need your side of the story. What happened when those ShadowDwellers attacked?”

Eishirou allowed himself to sink into the mattress and pillow. He found himself staring up at the ceiling as he became lost in thought.

Right, what did happen?

“I’m…not sure,” he admitted. “I just remember fragments. The ShadowDwellers were unbelievable. Zayne was protecting me. He got hurt. And…there was a bright light. And the Red lily suddenly appeared. It was just…there.”

Had it been inside the tower the entire time? Why did it appear when it did? More importantly, how did it appear suddenly like that?

Did it react to something? To him?

Eishirou uttered a sigh and clutched at his forehead. He had so many questions. One thing was clear to him, however, that the Red Lily did appear. And it appeared during a desperate moment.

“I…used the Red Lily to give Zayne my healing,” Eishirou continued. “I think. I can’t remember.”

Jacob sat forward in his seat. “Used?”

“I heard a voice. It asked me what I wanted to do.”

It called him something, too. Something soul. Something else he didn’t fully remember.

However, he certainly remembered how it felt to have his energy drained from him. That was exactly what it was; his healing skills and mana were drained from him. And given to Zayne.

It hurt. A lot.

…He shouldn’t tell Zayne.

Eishriou uttered a sigh as he dropped his arm listlessly to his side. He licked his lips and swallowed thickly. It was difficult, though. “Can I have some water? I taste copper. Was I coughing up blood?”

“You were,” Neriah answered as he reached toward the bedside table where a water pitcher sat. “You were clutching your chest, too.”

As Jacob helped Eishirou to sit up, he barely supressed a grimace. He couldn’t imagine how unnerving that sight would have been. Especially if it happened just after encountering the Red Lily.

“How bad am I?” Eishirou couldn’t help but ask as Neriah handed him a cup of cool water.

Neriah’s answer was thankfully brief. “Better than when you first arrived. Severe acute exhaustion and mana depletion. Now, drink slowly.”

Eishirou grasped the glass with both hands. The urge to gulp it down was there, but he resisted. He sipped at the water slowly until he drank the entire glass. It felt so good against his dry, terse throat.

“What happened to the Red Lily?” Eishirou asked as Neriah retrieved the glass from him.

Jacob leaned forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his knees. “It’s at the museum. You had it clutched tightly in your left hand. It took a while for us to coax you into letting go.”

Eishirou blinked. “The Red Lily is here?”

Jacob abruptly raised his hand to silence any further questions he had. “Never mind that now. How are you feeling?”

It honestly took Eishirou a moment to figure out how to reply. He didn’t feel all that bad. “Just a little dizzy and tired.”

“That’s to be expected,” Neriah said as he idly adjusted his reading glasses. “And those symptoms are likely to linger for the next couple of days. Less, if you actually take it easy.”

Eishirou frowned. Whenever a doctor would say “take it easy” what he really meant was to do absolutely nothing. And he didn’t like doing absolutely nothing. Especially if there was a relic around for him to help investigate!

“What about classes?” he asked.

Neriah sighed aloud and immediately snapped his gaze toward Jacob. “He has inherited your inability to take it easy,” he stated, sounding surprisingly bitter.

“Hey now.” Jacob immediately threw his hands up in front of him in both a surrender and pacifying manner. “Don’t try to pin that on me.”

“I really shouldn’t expect a man who forgets to eat for an entire day to instil a sense of self-preservation in his apprentice.”

“It is perfectly natural for researchers and chroniclers to possess a determined work ethic.”

“Work ethic? Working until you collapse from exhaustion isn’t exactly what I would call a healthy work ethic.”

“Now you’re just being overly dramatic. I haven’t passed out from exhaustion for years.”

“What about last month?”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Yes, it does!”

Eishirou had to snigger quietly to himself at the two professors as they bicker back and forth across his bed. They had been friends for years. And it was easy to tell.

Over the continuous bickering, Eishirou heard the sound of rapid footsteps in the hall just outside the room. He turned his head in time to watch the door to his room fly open and a certain blue-haired Elite stood on the threshold.

“Eishirou?”

Eishirou immediately perked up. “Zayne!”

Zayne used the door frame as leverage to push himself into the room and Eishirou raised his arms, outstretched toward the Elite. As Zayne reached him, he crouched down next to his bed and allowed Eishirou to wrap his arms around his neck. While he slipped his own arms around Eishirou’s waist.

Eishirou rested his chin on Zayne’s shoulder and hugged him back as tightly as Zayne held him. Neriah did tell him that Zayne was fine. No injuries whatsoever. But he still felt relief seeing him with his own eyes.

After a lingering moment, Zayne finally pulled back. He kept his hands on his shoulders, however, as he knelt on the floor next to his bed. “You’re ok?”

Eishirou nodded. “I’m all right.”

“Did those ShadowDwellers do something to you?” Zayne asked him with a brow furrowed in concern.

Eishirou shook his head this time. “It wasn’t the ShadowDwellers. It was the Red Lily.”

Zayne’s concern soon turned into confusion. “That relic?”

“I…used it to heal your injuries,” Eishirou explained the best he could. “It took a lot of energy. That’s why I’m exhausted. I’m all right, though.”

Zayne didn’t appear all that convinced. He also looked confused, which was hardly a surprise. Eishirou himself didn’t remember how he used the relic. He barely remembered much of what happened after those Humanoid ShadowDwellers ambushed them.

Speaking of which;

“What happened to those ShadowDwellers?”

Zayne hesitated for a moment, his expression blank. Yet there was a sense of…something in his eyes. “They were…defeated.”

There was something he wasn’t telling him. Eishirou had to admit that he was curious. But he was sure Zayne had his reasons and it would do no good to anyone to demand answers here and now.

Eishirou was just relieved that Zayne was ok.

And the rest of the team, too, of course.

The thought of Elite Team 3 reminded him of Mikiel, and ultimately of the condition they found him. And how he was alone.

“What about those missing Elite Teams?” Eishirou asked.

“They’re still searching for them,” Jacob was the one to answer, abruptly reminding Eishirou that he was indeed still there. “They’ve sent several veteran Elites to investigate the island and to deal with those ShadowDwellers.”

Veteran Elites?

They were Elites who were in their mid-thirties or older. They didn’t move in teams, but rather worked solo. They were more than capable of handling things by themselves. As the name indicated, they were warrior Elites who had decades of experience.

Administration must be worried to send those harden fighters to explore the area.

“Needless to say, the Midnight Islands and Flutterlight Forest are off limits for a while,” Jacob continued. “Which means-”

“Which means I won’t be going back to inspect the tower, huh?” Eishirou interrupted with a disappointed pout.

Jacob nodded his head solemnly while Neriah sighed in exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose. Zayne, however, looked somewhat baffled. No doubt wondering why he would want to return to that place after such a close encounter. To him, returning to inspect the stained glass wouldn’t be worth the time or effort.

And Eishirou couldn’t really blame him for feeling that way. A part of him felt the same. He didn’t want to head back in if it meant putting Zayne and his teammates in danger again. Yet, the other part of him wanted to out of sheer curiosity and wanted to learn more about the Red Lily.

Never mind any of that, though. It wasn’t like he could be rebellious and go back on his own. He’d doubt they would let him out of the hangers. And he certainly couldn’t walk to the destination. Swim, more like it.

He’d muse about the Red Lily later. First, he needed to sweettalk his way out of the infirmary. The mood that Neriah was in, he suspected it wasn’t going to be easy.

“So, anyway, since I’m awake and all that, can I go back to my room?” Eishirou asked.

Neriah picked up his medical chart and replied in a matter-a-fact manner; “I want you to stay for one more day.”

“I can’t just go back to my room? I promise not to do anything strenuous,” Eishirou pleaded, even going as far as clapping his hands in front of him in a further pleading motion.

Neriah narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. The movement was subtle, but Eishirou knew exactly what it meant. He had lost this conversation long before it even started.

“We’ve already established that Chroniclers are incapable of taking it easy,” Neriah said as he poked Eishirou in the middle of his forehead. “Personally, I want you to stay a week. So, I’m being nice. Don’t push it.”

Don’t push it indeed!

“Zayne will just have to keep you company,” Neriah continued. “Until lights out, of course.”

Eishirou glanced over at Zayne. Well, that didn’t sound too bad.

#original fiction #writblr #young adult #scifi fantasy #rpglit #gay romance #relic keepers: awakening of the red lily

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swordarkeereon · 4 years ago

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Tech Review for Writers: reMarkable2

I got myself a piece of interesting tech this year in hopes it would get me from out in front of a computer screen more often. Meet the reMarkable2, a distraction free (i.e. it’s not connected to the entirety of the internet) e-ink tablet workhorse that’s easy on the eyes.

The reMarkable2 Tablet

First things first. The reMarkable2 tablet is not for everyone and your average person probably won’t find it the least bit useful. So let’s talk about why you don’t want this tablet first.

reMarkable 2 is not for you if:

– You want an eReader. eReaders have a VERY DIFFERENT function than the reMarkable2. Yes, you can read PDFs on a reMarkable, but it’s more for *marking up* a PDF and commenting in the margins of a PDF. Not just reading. eReaders like Kindles and Nooks often have built in dictionaries, ways to bookmark pages or passages of text, etc… that the reMarkable2 doesn’t have. You can search your documents for specific phrases and words and also highlight things in a light gray, but if you’re just looking for an eReader, I suggest a Kindle.

– You want a full functioning tablet that you can put apps on and surf the web with- If you’re looking for a full functioning tablet, you’ve missed the whole point of the reMarkable2. The main point behind reMarkable2 is so you can go to your creative place (wherever that may be) and brainstorm, free from ALL distractions. You can’t stop to surf FB or your Twitter feed on a reMarkable2, thus making it more likely you’ll stay on task and get more done.

– You want something with color so you can highlight because what you really want is a fully functioning ebook reader or tablet. This tablet is really more of a no frills brainstorming and note-taking tool for entrepreneurs, professionals, academics, and creatives (including engineers, writers, musicians, possibly artists if they like to sketch in black and white) who use a lot of black pens and plain paper.

I bought the tablet for the following reasons (which I wrote down BEFORE I received the device):

– I wanted an electronic notebook (not a tablet). I’m one of those people who goes through 3 packs of sticky notes every month, and countless notebooks every year. I am constantly jotting stuff down to keep myself focused and on track while running my own business and helping out at the family business. My notes can be anything from putting together presentations, classes, and meetings, to extensive to-do lists for the day. Sometimes it’s just me keeping track of sales figures. As a result, my desk is always filled with papers and notebooks and I’m constantly searching for shit. The electronic notebook cleans up all this clutter and helps me organize my brain. (Have you seen my brain!? It’s a mess in there.)

– I like to write freehand, especially when I’m plotting the next book or writing a blurb, or even writing a chapter – and it must be distraction free. This is something only fellow authors will understand. The fact that the reMarkable2 can convert handwritten notes to text sent via email has me excited because, if I’m lucky and it works, I won’t have to go through and transcribe all my handwritten notes. It basically saves me time by eliminating a step. I can copy/paste the note from my email into the appropriate file on my laptop. This will also save me the clutter and weight of carrying countless notebooks.

– I am involved with projects that require me to sketch out ideas for marketing and/or artwork. I do have tablets that can do this, but nothing that does it *well*. The closest is my Surface tablet, which can do a lot of things, but it still doesn’t feel like paper or allow me the fine detail paper allows. I’m hoping this tablet is a bit more responsive in this area. – I am forever printing out rough drafts of manuscripts for markup – wasting a ton of paper and toner in the process. All because I can’t edit on a backlit screen. My eyes get tired and I miss too many errors. If I can transfer my PDF drafts to the reMarkable and mark them up there with minimal errors left over, I could save some $$. I am actually estimating that I could easily save the cost of the reMarkable2 in 6 months to 1 year’s time by not having to purchase the paper, pens, and toner I usually go through in that time frame. Plus, these marked up manuscripts often end up in a stack on my office floor for 6 months to a year after publication.

– I am forever having to read PDFs of laws and regulations for the family business, and while I usually use them on the computer, I sit in front of a computer 8-13 hours a day. I need a non-backlit screen for reading in the evenings just to give my eyes a break. Yes, I imagine I could do the same with a Kindle paperwhite, but I may just want to jot some notes in the same way I’d mark up a paper copy. I’m still a pen and paper girl. I’m really hoping the reMarkable is my replacement for that (most of the time anyway).

reMarkable2 test to sample the pen styles.

Some considerations I took into account before purchasing:

A lot of customers complained that it took too long to receive the reMarkable or to get support. From all of the research I did, and in reading their website, it’s clear to me that this company caters to academia and businesses. I ordered my reMarkable2 on January 16, 2021, and had it in my hands by January 25, 2021. 9 days. I also ordered it and paid for it through my business. I don’t know if that’s actually why I got mine so fast, but I wouldn’t be surprised. That said, I do think the company should work a little harder to increase their customer service efficiency.

With regard to customer support – the website clearly states it can take up to 10 business days for support to get back to you. And a lot of the things people seem to be complaining about have troubleshooting instructions on the website. Clearly people weren’t going to the website to try to look up their issue through the support FAQs, which likely would have helped them out sooner. They were just contacting support immediately, and angry when they weren’t getting a response after 3 days, when it’s clearly stated on the website that it can take up to 10 days due to the fact that reMarkable is a small company. But like I said earlier – they would be smart to increase their customer service team.

reMarkable’s folios are a custom fit and really pretty, but a bit pricey. I made the tablet more affordable by skipping the upgrade on the pen, because a friend of mine got the eraser feature and she wasn’t digging it initially (she loves it now), and I purchased a relatively nice folio from Amazon for under $30 (with no magnets – research told me magnets can cause dead spots in the screen of the reMarkable2). You can also just buy a 10″-11″ tablet sleeve and it would work much the same. There are also universal tablet folios that will fit 10″-11″ tablets that are free of magnets and will likely work just fine. All for under $20 bucks — even a few in faux leather. Remember that a case should protect your investment, not just make it *look* sharp.

Right out of the Box.

Right out of the box I set the reMarkable up and started using it for brainstorming. Here were my first impressions:

1. It really is pretty damn close to writing on paper.

2. You can rest your damn hand on the screen and it won’t fuck things up or make it wobble as with traditional tablets.

3. My handwriting actually looks like my handwriting and you have almost the same control with this as you would with real pen and paper.

4. The interface is simple and intuitive and anyone who uses computers and tablets day and in day out will have no issues figuring this out.

Now some thoughts on the features:

Handwriting to Text: As an author who likes to occasionally spend time writing the old fashioned way, one of the things that attracted me to this tablet was its ability to translate handwriting to text. No writer wants to have to transcribe their written notes and waste all of that time. So of course I tested it with my horrific handwriting, vs purposefully trying to be neat, and the reMarkable2 was able to convert my chicken scratch into actual text that I could read. I was able to turn the handwritten notes into a PDF, but I was also able to send the handwriting converted to typed text as the body of an email, where I was able to cut and paste it into any program I wanted. I took it further and wrote 1000 words (about 8.2 pages) longhand. It converted all the pages to text in one swoop and I was able to copy/paste it into my manuscript. While there was a little formatting and editing involved — it was a lot faster than retyping handwritten notes. WIN!

Handwriting for conversion test.

Conversion successful

PDF Transfer, Markup, and Signature: Transferring PDFs to the reMarkable is easy. You simply download the app on your phone and your desktop, and you can take any pdf from either device and import it onto your reMarkable, which you can then markup. I sent myself a slew of PDFs that I had to read and markup. It’s amazing how much more focused I am on a screen like this. I really got the same experience with editing on a digital PDF as I did with editing on a paper copy. My only caveat is that I don’t have more space to make notes since the margins are a bit small on the screen and there’s no “back of the page” to carry notes over to. I can likely manage. Despite that – what a great experience. Goodbye manuscripts all over my office floor! Hello being able to drag editing work with me wherever I go!

You can also transfer your PDFs that don’t have an electronic signature option to the device, sign them, and send them back. Talk about HANDY since I do that a few times a month by default. This just eliminates the print/sign/scan. Now I just have to transfer it to the device, sign the document, and email it straight back to whoever sent it.

Digital Planners may be something I look into for 2022 because reMarkable actually makes them feasible. I tried a tester digital planner, courtesy a friend, on my reMarkable and I have to say – it offers just as much satisfaction as a paper planner. Plus, you can SEARCH large pdfs. It won’t find search terms in your handwriting, but it will find it in your PDF. That’s definitely a handy feature when you’re working with 500 page PDFs. That said, the tablet saves your place (last page you visited) as you’re navigating a PDF, so no need to search for the place you left off. However, there is no way to bookmark multiple pages.

ePub Reading: suppose I could sideload books as ePubs, but I really have no use for this feature. If I want to read ebooks, I use my kindle or the Kindle App on my tablet or phone. Unless I start doing editing of ePubs or want to check out an ePub format for something? I didn’t buy this as an eReader, and it is terribly lacking as an eReader. Where the reMarkable excels is as a tool for marking up documents. So my guess is it would be great for that if you have a lot of files in ePub format that you have to go over. You also can’t change font sizes for easier reading. You can zoom in and zoom back out to regular size. That’s it. (And this is another reason this is not an eReader.)

Storage: Storage is a little over 6GB (you do not pay for the reMarkable website cloud-sync). But even with about 15 PDFs (some of them really long) on my reMarkable at any given time, I was only at .38 GB.

reMarkable2 Storage

File System: Like I said earlier – the system is highly intuitive and easy to use. I made folders for my most common notebook uses, then I moved the appropriate PDFs to those folders, and created any notebooks I needed for those folders.

Exporting: You can export as .PNG, .SVG, and PDF. Handwriting to text can only be sent as text via the body of an email. This is actually great for writing because then you just have to copy/paste from your email into your Word Doc, Google Doc, or Scrivener.

Importing: Imports PDFs and ePubs.

Templates: The templates are great. I generally only use graph paper, plain, and lined paper myself. But I could see how a lot of these would be useful to people. The to-do list is a crappy template just because it requires you to hide your menu to use it (you can’t tick the the checkboxes until you do this). To hide the menu tap the circle in the upper left top of the menu bar. So if you want a partial page to-do list, you can easily make your own checkbox lists using the graph paper option. There are also dot pages for the folks into bullet journaling.

A small sampling of reMarkable2 Templates

Search Feature: You can search within a PDF, but not through your own handwritten text. You must be in the PDF to search it, otherwise you can only search for file names. You can not search across documents for a phrase or word. So if you’re looking for something with the same search capabilities as a laptop or possibly a tablet, you won’t find it here.

Zooming: You can zoom in on PDF documents and write on them while zoomed. However, you cannot change font sizes to make reading easier.

Battery Life: On days where I used it heavily (about 4-5 hours), I was using around 15% power in a day because I didn’t put it in airplane mode. Three days of 4-5 hours a day use drained my battery to 50%. So me, as a heavy user, not in airplane mode, will likely get 6-7 days out of a single charge. Possibly more since clearly not every day will be a heavy use day. The device does go to sleep after 10 minutes of inactivity.

Pen:The pens are a bit pricey. I did not buy the expensive pen with the eraser and I’m okay with that. But $60 for a pen is still a bit — ouch.

Pen Nib: I am expecting I will be one of those poor unfortunate souls who will be replacing pen tips every 3-4 weeks during heavy use. Luckily the pen itself doesn’t use batteries. The pen nibs seem reasonable in price, just be sure to order a new pack with your device and when you start that pack, order another as shipping times on those can take a week or two depending where you are and how efficient your mail service is. You don’t want to accidently run out and find yourself without a pen. Yikes.

Security: You can add a password to your reMarkable to keep prying eyes out. But if you’re like me and self-employed, that’s not really an issue. Your remarkable has Wi-Fi, yes, but you can put it in airplane mode to cut the connection. Plus, it only syncs to your cloud storage. There really aren’t any entry points for viruses or people hacking into your device. But then I’m also not a tech person. Let’s just say I highly doubt security will be a huge issue on this thing. Besides, anyone who wants to take a peek at my tablet would likely find themselves bored stiff, unless they like reading really rough first drafts of speculative fiction. LOL

Backup/Download: You can easily transfer your files back to your computer by opening the app and simply exporting your finished documents, etc… to your computer, backup drive or cloud drive. You can also just email yourself a copy to make it super easy.

My Wishlist:

1. I wish I could add or append new, handwritten pages to an existing PDF. That would definitely solve the space issue. Now, I just make notes in a different file and jog back and forth between the PDF and the notes, which is a little annoying, but doable. One way to solve this issue would be to save all your PDFs to double spaced. It might make markup a little easier. I’ll try that with the next books to go under the editorial knife.

2. I wish there were cheaper alternative covers. My $17 cover looks great and protects my tablet. reMarkable could easily come up with a few additional low-cost choices here. The ultra professionals are still going to buy nice leather folios.

(I may add to this list in the coming weeks, but right now these are the two main things jumping out at me.)

Overall Review Summary

For writers, reMarkable2 truly is a remarkable distraction free device that can help improve your concentration and organization, give you the freedom to write out longhand and convert it to text without the tedious re-typing, and help you mark up drafts with ease. This would probably serve prolific and professional writers more liberally than the writer who takes a few years to pen a book. Plus, it will probably save you a lot of printer paper, toner, pens and notebooks. For business owners/users – reMarkable will likely save you pounds of sticky notes and legal pads, and hours of time transcribing your notes. Plus, it’s a great on-the-go working tool for content creators and people who review a lot of PDFs.

Have some thoughts on the reMarkable2? Feel free to leave a comment below!

#distraction-free #not sponsored content #reMarkable2 #tablets #technology reviews

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sapphire374 · 3 years ago

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Soy Sol: Chapter 14 (Weeks Away)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch.10 / Ch.11 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 / Ch.15 / Ch.16 / Ch.17

Luna enters the hospital room. “Simón, I came as fast as I can. What happened?” Luna looks over Simón and Ámbar worriedly. “No nothing, just an athlete’s injury,” Simón chuckles. “Glad to see you still have your good humor,” Luna chuckles too. “He sprained his ankle which means he won’t be able to participate in the competition,” Ámbar confesses. “No no, I’m all good. I’m perfectly fine, I can and will participate in that competition-" “No you won’t. The doctor said you can’t do any extraneous activities including roller skating.” Ámbar cuts Simón off. He sighs with dismay.

“Well at least I have good news. Our team qualified for the competition!” Luna mentions. They all quietly cheer with happy hands since they’re at a hospital and want Simón to rest. “Well honey, I’mma let you get some rest okay,” Ámbar gets up from her chair and kisses Simón before heading out the door with Luna.

“I can’t believe this happened. Simón must have been in huge pain. I feel bad not being there,” Luna admits. “Don’t feel bad, he’ll recover soon. I know Simón. You were going through a lot too, it made sense for you to leave. Sometimes when we’re stressed, we need peace and some alone time. We sadly have another issue at our hands though. We have no one to replace Simon,” Ámbar states.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Luna asks. “Nope. No one that I know of at school know how to skate. I think it’s also too late to hold auditions for a replacement.”

Luna scratches her head and keeps thinking. “Is there anyone you have in your contacts from working with other teams in the past that you know that can help us?” Luna suggests. Ámbar takes out her phone and scrolls through her contacts. A familiar name pops up. “I think I know someone who can help,” Ámbar glares towards Luna. She presses the call button and waits for a response.

Jam and Roller

Jazmin enters the locker room and sees a note taped on to her locker. “Meet me at Fountain Park, I would love to get to know those sparkly eyes, from your secret admirer.” Jazmín starts jumping up and down. Delfi enters and sees her best friend ecstatic. “Wow I’m shocked you would be this happy after what just happened to Simón,” Delfi remarked. “What? No! I’m not happy for that! I’m happy for this!” Jazmín hands Delfi the note. Delfi’s eyes grow large. “Wow Jazmin, this is awesome. A little sketchy but intriguing.” Jazmín squeals, “I know right, it’s my two favorite things! I’m so excited and so curious too! I wonder who it could be?” Delfi nods. “Yes, I’m very happy for you but I think it’s best I go with you just in case the guy is a creep. I don’t want you to go alone. Better yet, me and Pedro can accompany you. Once we see it’s someone safe, we’ll leave you be,” Delfi advises. “Well, if you say so,” Jazmin responds.

Simón goes one step at a time into the cafeteria with crutches. The doctor let him get released early since Simón wasn’t feeling much pain and begged the doctor. Nico and Pedro help Simón sit down and get readjusted. “I feel awful,” Simón exclaims. “What? But you said you weren’t feeling much pain to the doctor?” Luna asks. “No, I don’t mean that. I meant that I feel awful that you guys now don’t have another member for the team,” Simón moped. “Don’t worry about that. The main priority is you having a fast recovery. We’ll look for a replacement and everything will be okay,” Luna tries to comfort Simón. Luna then heads over to Ámbar and whispers, “so how did the phone call go?”

“She didn’t pick up, so I just left her a message. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see for her response,” Ámbar says. Juliana enters the room. “Even though Simón has gotten hurt, which I hope you feel better soon dear, that doesn’t mean we should all stop training. The competition is coming close, and we need to seriously prepare. While Ámbar and Luna look for a replacement, we shall keep moving forward with our training.” The whole gang head to the rink and start practicing.

Nico stays with Simón and serve all the guests their food and drinks. Simón calls Nico over. “Look I don’t want to sit here and do nothing to help the gang out. I want to do something, but it feels like I’m powerless not getting to skate with them,” Simón admits.

“You’re not powerless, and we can still help them without skating.” Simón looks confused, “like what?” Nico waits thinking. “I have an idea. You know how the Roller Band is back. Well how about we perform the song in the back while they skate in the competition. Something fresh while keeping it like old times like when we performed ‘I’ve Got a Feeling.’ You don’t have to stand, you can sit down on a chair while still playing your guitar and singing,” Nico suggests.

“Amigo, eso es padrisimo! That is an incredible idea! There’s just one thing… Pedro won’t be able to perform with us since he’ll be skating with the gang,” Simón claimed. “It’s okay cause we can have Yam sing with us, I don’t think she’s skating in the team.” Simón starts cheering, getting really excited. “I’ll start practicing the chords!”

Wedding Dress Fitting

Monica, Luna, Nina, Delfi, and Jazmín sit huddled around. Jim and Yam had to decline their invitation due to them helping out Nico fill in shifts and rehearse the Roller Band performance for the competition. Ámbar enters with the first dress. “I hope Simón recovers in time for the wedding. I wouldn’t want to see him hurt on our wedding day,” Ámbar sighs. “Well since you aren’t going to have your wedding till a few months after the competition, I think he will get back to walking by then,” Monica assumes.

Ámbar turns and show the gang her dress. “Wow Ámbar you look like a princess!” Luna exclaims stunned. Monica and the gang agrees. “It looks nice, but I don’t like how it’s so plain,” Ámbar says. She goes with the seamstress to the racks of dresses.

While everyone waits for Ámbar to enter with a different dress, Jazmín breaks the silence. “So, since everyone is silent, I have something to say. I have a secret admirer and I’m going to meet him today!” Jazmín reveals. Everyone cheers for Jazmín. “Yes, and Pedro and I are planning to accompany her just in case the dude isn’t sketchy, but we’re all very happy for her,” Delfi states. “I hope he’s charming, funny, kind, but also cute and maybe even a little spicy,” Jazmín says. “Oh, don’t we all,” the seamstress chimes in. “Jazmín, I hope when you say spicy you mean he likes spicy food,” Nina nervously comments. The whole gang begins to laugh. Ámbar tries all sorts of designs and looks till she finds her favorite one that she feels matches her aesthetic. “What about this one?” Ámbar asks on her fourteenth dress fitting.

“Ámbar you look like you’re glowing. You are a fairy now, wow.” Luna states. Ámbar giggles while the rest agree with Luna. “78% of women say that when it comes to choosing the perfect wedding dress, always stick with your gut,” Nina consoled. “So I guess this is the dress. I love it!” Ámbar announces. Jazmín takes out her tablet and begins filming. “This will look amazing on my Ja Jazmin channel!” “No Jazmin!” everyone yelled. “Jazmin you can’t post this since the groom and everyone else are not supposed to know how my dress looks yet. I want it to be a surprise on the day of the wedding,” Ámbar advised Jazmin. “Oh sorry. I didn’t know. Geez you guys didn’t have to be so harsh.”

Jim and Yam’s Apartment

Ramiro hurriedly knocks on the door. Yam opens. “Look Yam, I don’t know if you’ll agree or not but please listen to me. You must take that deal, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. No this doesn’t mean we should break up either because I truly think we can make this long-distance thing work okay. I’ll visit you every so often and you’ll do the same for me. We can make this work, I promise. I have waited for too long for us to just break up before this has even started,” Ramiro declares to Yam.

“Ramiro this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I find it actually pretty funny how I was going to suggest for us to do long-distance too because I don’t want to leave you either,” Yam tears up. Ramiro presses his lips against Yam and holds her tight. They capture this moment to remember it.

Jim appears behind Yam. “So…. This is awkward cause I’m in my PJs,” Jim protests. They start laughing when they see her wearing her unicorn PJs, she laughs with them too.

*Gif by @ambarxsmith*

Jam and Roller

Delfi and Pedro enter the cafeteria. Luna and Nina rush over to them. “So, who’s Jazmín’s secret admirer? If you don’t mind me asking,” Luna questions. “So apparently it’s someone she already knew at the Fundom. He was part of one of the behind the scenes guys and even worked with Pixie a lot. He also viewed Jazmin on the side and had a big crush on her but didn’t know how to say it. He seems sweet and makes Jazmín happy, which is the important thing,” Delfi responds. “Awwww,” Luna and Nina say in unison.

“So have you guys figured out who will be the replacement for the team?” Nico asks. “Sadly no, from what I know of,” Luna responds. “I can’t believe this happened to Simón and so sudden too. The good thing though is that the Roller Band, sadly without me since I have to skate, get to sing at the competition,” Pedro chimes in. “Speaking of which, did Yam say yes to getting to sing with you guys?”

“Oh yes, she was thrilled. She thought the idea was creative and is excited to getting to sing with us again,” Nico responded. Ámbar walks over to where the gang is at the cafeteria. “So, any news on that contact?” Luna asks. “Sadly no, I think we’re going to have to find someone else,” Ámbar reveals.

The door’s bell chimes out loud when a familiar face walks into the place. “Hey guys! So, a little a birdy told me that the Jam and Losers are in desperate need of help. Well, you guys have come to the right person,” Emilia exclaims.

“Wow Jazmín will be upset knowing she may just have missed the news of the year,” Delfi admittedly surprised.

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h-styles-babes · 5 years ago

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FIFTEEN

Sia had to nearly drag herself out of bed the next morning.

After being woken by Harry and inviting him to stay with her to abate the nightmares, they’d stayed up for about an hour, talking about nothing and everything. Sia asked him about hw filming had gone and how he’d liked making his first movie. Harry had been enthusiastic about his experience, but he was appropriately anxious for how it was to be received. There was nearly another year until the movie hit cinemas, so it was still a long time coming, but he was nervous nonetheless. No matter how much Christopher Nolan and all his coworkers had assured him that his performance was great, he was still unsure of how it would really come across. It was his first real acting job after all. He just wanted it to be good.

She’d eventually fallen asleep, tucked up close to Harry’s side. They weren’t cuddling, per se, but they were definitely touching. And Harry must have done as she’d asked and left after she’d gone down, because she woke to an empty bed. However, there was a glass of water and two paracetamol tablets on her bedside table, with a little note that read:

‘Just in case you had a headache from the crying. —H.’

She was a little put off by the lack of X’s after his signature, but she wouldn’t ever admit that to anyone.

True to his prediction, Sia had a headache upon waking, so she quickly took the tablets and finished the entire glass of water before crawling out of bed. She was tired from the restless night of sleep and her body ached like she’d done a hard work out the day before. The relentless night terrors and her body’s violent, physical reaction during them were really wearing away at her body. She was surprised she didn’t find bruises or welts on her body every morning from how violently she knew she thrashed during them. Luckily, after she’d fallen asleep the second time, her sleep had been dreamless, and she was able to get the few hours uninterrupted. It wasn’t enough to make up for all the missed sleep the past week, but it help a bit.

Sia wished she felt better after Harry’s company in the early hours of the morning, but she felt just as downtrodden and worn as she had every other day. She was dreading their work day and having to see him after he witnessed the horror she lived through every night. It was embarrassing, to say the least, and it was indicative of the mental and emotional turmoil she knew he already suspected. She was sure at this point that Harry was starting to realise her upset wasn’t just from their break up. The time to tell him was creeping up on her, and she was dreading it.

Slipping into a pair of linen shorts and a plain tank top, Sia made her way into the kitchen. Luckily, it sounded like the house was mostly empty, or if it wasn’t empty, everyone was having a quiet Saturday morning. She made her way into the kitchen and only encountered Harry and Alex, the latter greeting her with a cheery “good morning,” which caused Harry to look over his shoulder at her from where he was standing in front of the stove. She smiled as best she could and returned Alex’s greeting with a soft one of her own.

Harry handed Sia a mug full of freshly brewed chai tea when she made her way to the fridge to grab some fruit for breakfast. He didn’t let go of it immediately when Sia got her hand on it, using it as a way to draw her closer to him.

“Yeh alright?” Harry murmured to her, not wanting Ben to really hear.

Sia couldn’t meet his eyes, so she nodded and hummed her agreement.

She heard Harry sigh, and she startled when she felt his lips press to her temple, lingering for a full three seconds before he pulled away. It was the first time they’d really had any physical contact outside of shoulders pressed against each other during movie nights and her leg pressed to his in bed the night before. She tried not to outwardly react to it.

Sia fled from the kitchen pretty quickly after that, foregoing the fruit she wanted to get and headed straight to the back patio. Mitch caught her eye from his place in one of the loungers when she walked out, and she could see him carefully appraising her bedraggled appearance. A slight frown titled at his lips and he mouthed, “you good?”

“Later,” she mouthed back when she saw Alex and Harry moving to join them outside. It was both a promise and a plea. She needed someone to talk to about this. Considering she was feeling like she’d pestered her therapist a lot recently, Mitch was her next best choice. He was the only other person on this trip that would be able to comfort her, in his sort of detached, awkward way. She’d call El, but the time difference was weird and hard to navigate. Mitch was here now, and she knew he was always willing to listen.

~*~*~*~*~

“So, are you just gonna avoid him for the rest of forever?” Mitch asked, looking very skeptical.

Him and Sia were sitting outside that cafe Sia had gone to when she was the only one in the house and had a day of exploring. She’d told him just after she’d had her morning tea that she wanted to talk to him at some point, and he’d suggested that they have lunch, just the two of them. So, when they were getting ready to leave, a driver waiting for them out front, Harry had walked into he living room at the same time, asking where they were going. Mitch, not wanting to leave his new friend out of an outing, went to invite him to lunch with them, but Sia had cut him off, telling Harry they were going out and would be back later, nearly pulling Mitch out the front door without waiting for a response.

He’d questioned her on their car ride and guessed correctly that she was avoiding Harry, for whatever reason. It wasn’t until they’d gotten seated at the cafe in town that she explained to him what had happened throughout the night.

“I obviously can’t do that,” Sia huffed with a roll of her eyes. She kept her gaze on her fingers twirling the straw in her glass of water. “I’m just embarrassed. And I know he’s suspicious.”

“You know I’ll never tell you what to do, but…” Mitch trailed off, taking a sip of his iced tea to fill the end of his sentence.

Sia sighed. “I know. I need to tell him. But the mere thought has me riddled with night terrors.”

“Maybe telling him will help ease them,” Mitch suggested.

“My therapist has mentioned that,” Sia admitted. “Something about me needing to push myself to get to the final steps of healing.”

“I never went to college, but she seems like a smart woman.”

Sia groaned as she ran her hands through her hair, a habit she’d picked up after years of being friends with Harry. “I just don’t want it to interfere with the recording.”

“The lingering tension between you is already interfering with the recording. Maybe this will help clear the air.”

Sia hummed to acknowledge that she heard Mitch’s opinion and she was grateful for it, but she was still having a bit of a hard time coming to terms with the fact that it was now imperative that she tell Harry about everything. It had been nearly a year since she’d begun dealing with it, and she was, for the most part, coping with it on her own. She thought she had been doing a good job until she’d been thrust back into Harry’s presence. And then when she finally thought she’d gotten a handle on those resurfaced emotions, a song set her off and brought back her nightmares. She felt like she couldn’t catch a break.

Perhaps finally sharing with Harry would help. Not to the point of recovery, but hopefully it would be the tipping of the domino that would finally set in motion the steps to finally dealing with it properly.

Healing. That was what Sia had to keep reminding herself of: telling Harry was an avenue of healing. Both for herself and for him. And possibly for them both as a past couple.

~*~*~*~*~

Sia, in order to prepare herself for an impending heavy conversation, successfully avoided Harry for the rest of the day.

When her and Mitch got back from lunch and their quick outing around town, she’d snuck into the kitchen to make herself a brew before promptly returning to her bedroom to brood and enjoy the rest of her day in peace. It had been pretty nice, just getting to watch a few films and text back and forth with Ellen. They were trying to pass ideas to each other about what they were going to do when El arrived in Jamaica, and it gave Sia a way to keep her mind off of the impending discussion she would have to have with Harry. It was a nice way to spend a day of her weekend.

She had another nightmare that night. It was becoming the norm more than an occasional occurrence, which was equally annoying as it was concerning.

Sia could feel her heart racing, even in the midst of the dream. She subconsciously knew she was crying, the sobbing in her dream too laboured heart-wrenching for it not to be reflected in her real life. Flashes of lights flickered in her hazy vision, like she was racing down a long hallway. The distant echo of the beeping of medical machines whooshed in and out of her hearing. A phantom pain of her experience ripped across her abdomen. The devastation of the news and her heartbreak settled deep into her chest.

He didn’t intentionally wake her this time, but she stirred out of her unconsciousness when Harry slid next to her in bed. She gasped when she felt like her arms were trapped around her, unable to reach up to wipe the tears from her face. She quickly realised that it was because Harry was laid on top of the covers, keeping them taut around her. It was actually comforting after she realised she wasn’t being physically held down, like she had been after she’d awoken in the hospital the year before. Harry had a hand on her back, softly stroking up and down as her breathing started to settle.

Harry didn’t speak until he felt that Sia had sufficiently calmed.

“You alright?”

Sia sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to shake off the last of her dream that clung to the edges of her consciousness. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Harry helped her loosen the blankets around her as she tried to shift to face him. He brushed her hair back from her face, that was still slightly sticky with the remnants of her tears and the sweat she had built up in her thrashing.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked. There was a softness in his features that relayed to Sia that he didn’t want to push her, which she greatly appreciated.

“What time is it?” she asked, unable to see the clock over Harry’s figure.

“Just past two.” Harry pressed his lips together to try to keep back the displeased look on his face. As far as he could tell, Sia was trying to avoid the topic again, and it didn’t it well with him. She very obviously had something that was eating away at her and needed to get it off her chest. He didn’t really understand why she was torturing herself by bottling it all up and keeping it away from him. Or anyone, really. He wasn’t privy to the fact that she had unloaded her burden on Mitch already. Not that it seemed to be helping.

“If you don’t mind staying up with me,” she told him, muttering into the cover of her blankets. She couldn’t actually believe that she was proposing they have this conversation now. But she sort of figured that the fact that he was here, in her room at two o’clock in the morning, had to be some sort of sign from some almighty being that wanted her to get her shit together. Divine intervention and all that.

“It’s Sunday and I’ve got no plans. If I want to sleep in until three in the afternoon, I will. If you need to talk, don’t worry about it.”

Sia looked at him for a long moment, giving herself one last chance to back out of this for the night. However, when she took inventory of how she was feeling, she realised that she didn’t want to take another raincheck. Her therapist was right: she needed to do this, not only for herself, but for him, too. It was time to take control of her own mental well-being.

She shuffled to get herself upright in bed. Harry helped her by pulling down the blankets to her waist and fluffing up her pillows to support her. Bless him and his constant attention to other’s needs and comfort. It made Sia’s heart give a little jump with affection and those damn butterflies in her stomach to flutter just a little harder. He made it really hard to not constantly be in love with him.

“Can you hand me the tissues?” she asked, gesturing to her bedside table. If Harry noticed the already-empty on beside it, he didn’t comment. He obviously already knew she’d done her share of crying in the last few days.

Sia gripped the square box in both hands, rubbing her thumbs over the sharp edges. She took a few moments to take in cleansing breaths, staring intently at the swirling patter of the interior of the duvet as it lay at her waist.

“I uh…” she began, clearing her throat when her voice came out with a slight hitch. “I’ve been dealing with some stuff lately that kinda resurfaced when I came on this trip.”

“I’ve noticed,” Harry commented softly.

Sia nodded. “I thought I had gotten past it, at least enough to function like a normal person, but it got bad within the last week or so.”

“I noticed you kinda dropped off after we first started recording ‘Woman.’” Harry paused to let Sia speak, but she only nodded, her eyes trained on the tissue she was now pulling apart between her fingers. “If the end of our relationship is still that awful for you, we don’t have to talk about it. I don’t want to make you—”

Sia shook her head hard, finally looking up at him. “It’s not that. I mean, not really, at least.”

Harry’s brows furrowed together. “Then what is it?”

“I had a miscarriage.”

Sia watched as Harry’s actually choked on his own breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His lower lip wobbled before he drew it between his teeth. He cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry. Do you mind me asking when?”

The first feeling of tears tingling behind her eyes made Sia squint them shut, wanting to keep it together as long as possible in order to get everything out. “December. Just before Christmas.”

A long silence drew out between them, both unsure what else to say. Harry seemed to be really struggling with what she’d told him, understandably. His jaw clenched and his hands were fisted into the hem of his athletic shorts. There was a deep furrow between his brows. He eventually squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, like he did when he was stressed. He sucked his lips into his mouth and rubbed them together a few times before blowing out a long breath. Eventually, he looked to Sia, a mixture of hurt and sadness mixed in his eyes.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Sia. I can’t imagine losing a baby.”

Sia’s heart thudded in her chest. Was he not getting it?

“Harry…” That uncomfortable feeling settling in her chest made it hard for her to talk. She was going to cry. There was no going back once that sensations filled her lungs. Tears dripped from the corners of each of her eyes, and she used the stripped bits in her fingers to sop up the first few drops before reaching for a full, new tissue.

She couldn’t really make out his face through the tears now swimming in her eyes. She felt her face crumple as a sob tore through her throat. Harry’s arms were around her in an instant, pulling her to his chest, nearly crushing her. He was making shushing sounds to try to calm her. He could only hope that she could hear him over her sobs.

“You’re an i-idiot,” she eventually hiccuped out. Harry was drawn aback by her words, such a turn from the emotions she was displaying. He reared back and looked down at her. Sia scoffed at the exaggerated hurt look on his face.

“I know you’re hurting, but—”

“You’re an idiot, because I was pregnant with your baby.”

Sia heard Harry draw in a quick breath and the hold he had on her slackened. She took a moment to wipe her eyes before looking up at him. His mouth was open in surprise, and she’d never seen his forehead so scrunched or his brows so far down over his eyes.

Some unintelligible sounds came out of his mouth, like he was trying to form words and figure out what to say. Her stomach flipped a little when she saw tears welling in his eyes and slowly drip out. His mouth eventually closed over a small whimper that turned into a suppressed sob.

Sia gave him the time he needed. She’d had over half a year to come to terms with this, so she couldn’t expect Harry to do it in a few minutes. He’d have questions soon, so she would give him his time and be there when he was ready to talk.

Now that she’d gotten it out to him, she had an odd sense of serenity. Her natural care-taking nature seemed to overcome her, and all she wanted to do in that moment was make him comfortable. So, she told Harry softly that she would be back before slipping out of the bed and making her way to the kitchen. She made a brew for both Harry and herself and also popped a bag of popcorn. By the time she brought it back into the bedroom, Harry had tucked himself under the blankets, his eyes still steadily leaking tears, but his gaze was vacant, trained steadfastly on the far wall. If he even knew that Sia had entered the room, he made no indication.

Sia put the bowl of popcorn down on the bed and one of the cups on the bedside table. She sidled up beside Harry, her knees gently resting against the side of the bed to keep her balance. With her free hand, she reached out and ran her fingers through Harry’s hair, trying to draw his attention gently. He eventually turned his head toward her, his eyes seeming to focus.

“I brought you a cuppa,” she murmured. Harry hummed and reached to take it by the handle. His other hand wrapped around her waist, drawing her closer. He took a deep breath and rested his head against her stomach, her fingers drawing slowly through his hair. It was only a few moments before she could feel the wetness seep through her sleep shirt. He was actively crying again.

“Budge over,” she whispered.

Harry sniffled before righting himself and making room for her. She slid into bed beside him.

“Talk to me,” she urged.

Harry took a slow sip of his tea before speaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sia took a deep breath. “I didn’t know I was pregnant until December. And then, three days later, I started bleeding.”

“How did you not—?”

“We’d just broken up, Harry. I was distraught. I was in the midst of my internship. I was doing everything in my power to keep my mind off of you. And I didn’t realise until nearly Christmas that I hadn’t had a period in…longer than I could remember.

“When I finally figured it out, I went and took like three tests. All of ‘em came back positive. Given the last time we had sex, I reckoned I was about fourteen or fifteen weeks. I’d gained a little weight, but nothing I really noticed. Figured I’d make an appointment for just after Christmas, start takin’ vitamins. Figured I’d made it that long, another two weeks wasn’t gonna make a difference.”

Sia paused to take a shaky sip of her tea. This was her least favourite part of this memory.

She cleared her throat. “I went to my parents’ as soon as I was allowed. I was gonna tell them that night at dinner. Except I started bleeding before then. I lost blood so fast that I passed out…. My mum found me in the loo. She called 999 and I was rushed to the hospital. I guess I was able to tell them I was pregnant at some point, because I was sedated. All I remember was lights flashing as I was wheeled to the OR and this awful pain in my stomach and then waking up eight hours later.

“I’d had a placental abruption. The doctors were surprised I’d made it as far along as I had. I was gonna call you as soon as I weaned myself off the meds. Then that shit in St. Barts came out and I…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t deal with a miscarriage and your bullshit at the same time.”

“It’s been months since, then, though,” Harry argued, staring down into his tea. “You could’ve told me. Should’ve told me. I deserved to know. That was my baby, too.”

“I know. I hate myself for not telling you. I started seeing a therapist in January. I was pretty messed up for awhile. It wasn’t until I moved to America that it started to get a little better.”

“That’s what your nightmares are from, then?” Harry finally looked at her. She was glad to see he wasn’t angry. She was always afraid that he’d hate her for not telling him sooner. He was obviously upset, but she figured he knew there was a bigger picture.

Sia nodded. “Yeah. Once I left the hospital, I started havin’ them.” Sia paused, taking a moment to catch her breath. All that happened was her throat tightening with a fresh rush of tears. “I’d only known I was pregnant for a few days, but I already loved that baby so much. Losing the pregnancy wrecked me.”

“How far along were you?”

“Doctors said about seventeen weeks,” Sia sighed. “It was a boy.”

Harry let his head drop back against the headboard. His face crumpled and new tears streamed down his cheeks. “We’d have a little boy right now.”

Sia mirrored his posture after putting her tea on the little table. She cleared her throat. “Yeah. He’d be about four months old now.”

Harry sniffled and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. “Did you name him?”

Her heart thudded in her chest and her skin flushed. She wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed by the name she’d given her unborn son, but she didn’t think she’d admit it to anyone. Only her parents knew his name. She hadn’t even told Ellen. The hospital had asked her if she wanted to name him and she hadn’t hesitated. He wouldn’t have an official death certificate, considering he hadn’t been far enough along in gestation to be considered a person, but it was something the nurses were going to do for her, just to honour him. She hadn’t hesitated in telling them the name she wanted in her records. It was the same name that was etched into the front panel of the wood urn she’d put his ashes in. The same urn that was sat on her dresser at home.

“Harry. I named him Harry.”

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