#ross without a last name(for now)

[allnerdythings]

IS ROSE DONNAS AND SHAUNS DAUGHTER???? IM CONFUSED??? DID SHE UNKNOWINGLY NAME HER DAUGTHER ROSE? DOES SHE REMEMBER FRAGMENTS BC SHE REMEMBERS SKINNY MAN TOO

???

[iouinotes]

Show-off | Mike Ross

pairing: Mike Ross x female!reader

show: Suits

genre: smut word count: 2,9k

summary: you and your co-worker Mike dont get along very well. But when you have something that he needs, suddenly everything is different.

a/n: Just watched the first two episodes of "Suits" and something about Mike is really attractive-

Working in a well-known office as a lawyer has it's advantages. Such as being respected by business people or being able to afford a lot of things, you spend all your evenings analyzing documents rather than meeting actual people.

Nevertheless, sometimes there are also negative factors. For example, my co-worker Mike, who really believes, that he is with his ridiculously skinny tie and sarcastic humor better than the others. Or right now, better than me.

"God, I cant believe you. Can you behave for once?" I use my fingers to push my hair back in frustration, noticing how my head starts to hurt. Its 10 pm and I'm currently trying to stay calm, though because of one man in particular, my nerves seem to be getting thinner within seconds. Valuable time is wasted that I could spend somewhere else instead of with him.

"Now it's my fault, that you don't have the documents with you? Sorry, I can't help you being organized in your own workplace." His voice irritates me. Everything about him is so frustrating.

"I told you, I didnt get the message! How am I supposed to know, that you need something, when you don't tell me anything about it? Maybe you should stop being so childish and ask me in the first place, instead of running to Rachel!" If our job had nothing to do with justice and we werent literally standing in a law company right now, I would kill him. And then I wouldn't hesitate to go to court and say it was self-defense, because I didnt want to hear any of his miserable excuses anymore.

"So what do you think, I should do? I need these documents for tomorrow. Please, I know you don't like me, but it is really urgent." Why does he has such blue eyes? The look he is going me is even more irritating than his voice.

I sign, exhibit my laptop and try to put the pens back, that are laying all over my desk.

"Okay, fine. As I said, the documents are at home, so-" I don´t even get to finish my sentence.

"Great, so I'll meet you there. And I wont even tell anyone, if your place is a mess." His eyes wander over my messy desk, and even If I don´t like to admit it, it's a bad habit of mine. But, he shouldn't make any assumptions about the neatness in my apartment.

"I hope you loose the documents on your way home." At my words, he grins smugly.

"Well, then I could lie and say you didnt found them anymore and I hadnt had the chance to go through them." He leans towards me.

"I'll run you over with my car." He raises his eyebrows at my threat.

"You sure should do something that makes you smile more often. Is that even something you know how to do?" I show him my middle finger and turn to left my office. When I close the door, I hear the laughter in his voice.

"The next storm should be named after you as quickly as you left the room." He follows after me.

"Can you shut up for once? Oh, I forgot. You don´t last one second being silent. Thats a shame, the world could finally heal." His hand rests on his heart, his features fake a hurt expression.

"Ouch. You really don´t like me that much, huh?" His eyes try to search mine.

"You get on my nerves on purpose every fucking day. Should I thank you for that?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Yes, you should. Your life would be so boring without me." He grins at me again from the side, that typical grimace that is always adorn on his face.

"You wish." When I tell him my address, he raises his eyebrows, but before he can make an unfavorable comment, I get into my car.

Darkness surrounds me and when I see him going away, I lower my head to the steering wheel. He really is the best at confusing my emotions.

~~~~~

I turn off the lights of my car and get out of it, so I can finally make my way to my flat. Its not something special, I mean I have a living room, which is quite big and connected to the kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. But I am very lucky, because I have a small balcony, from which I can watch the stars at night. But I usually only do that when I can't sleep.

So, when I enter my apartment, I let my eyes wander over the manageable mess, I put some clothes back in the closet and the dishes in the washing machine. The place almost looks decent, when I hear the doorbell.

As I open the door, I'm nervous for some reason. I let him in and turn to my office drawers, looking for the document.

"Nice place. You live here alone?" His fingers trace my bookshelf, I see him reading the titles.

"No, my wife is still at work." When I look at him dead serious, I see him laugh in surprise.

"So, you do have humor. I thought, you were one of those exceptions that wouldn't be able to do that." He means it as a joke, but something in my chest hurts.

When I reply with a monotonous voice, I see his eyebrows pull together. "I live here alone. That's what you wanted to hear?" I'm getting more frustrated again with every second he's around me.

"No- I didnt mean it that way. I'm sorry. My intentions were good, I promise." When I look at him for a moment, I see his honest expression.

It would be so easier for me to hate him, if I didnt know, he was a good human. Well, most of the time.

We are silent for a moment, but when I hear his footsteps, I tense up.

"What are you doing?" He's now standing right next to me.

"Helping you. You seem a little, tense?" I glare at him for a moment and he raises his hands in defense.

"Just pointed out the obvious. But dont worry. You still look lovely." I stop in my movements at his words.

"Thats such shock for you?" His voice shows surprise and a certain curiosity.

"Only that you say it." I look into his eyes.

"Well, you may think I'm dumb, but I'm not blind."

He just called me beautiful, sort of. It´s confusing me.

When I finally find the documents, I hold my hand out to him.

"I don´t think you are dumb. I think you're annoying. And a show-off. I don´t like that." His eyes follow me.

"What do you like then?" His question surprises me. He slowly takes the documents out of my hand, his finger gently brushing mine.

"I don´t think that is any of your business." I try to clear my voice. His touch makes me shiver.

"Come on, tell me. Would that be so bad?" His whole presence is making me nervous and I feel my hands start to shake.

At work, I can always hide behind a mask, pretend that nothing he does affects me. I can act like I truly hate him, even though I catch myself looking at him, from time to time. Especially when he shows off his intelligence without realizing it, impresses his clients and -I would never admit it- me too. It's a certain charm about him, the way he always knows how to answer, while being mischievous and clever about it.

But now, that he's in my apartment and so close to me, it's suddenly different. And I don't know how to react to him being nice.

"I look for someone who isnt afraid of commitment. Someone who is honest and kind, but who also challenges me. I want to feel safe, so I can put my trust not only in myself."

He nods and is quiet for a moment, I begin to feel stupid for telling him all of that, when he responds.

"I get that. Someone whose shoulder you can lean on when things get too much. Someone who meets your needs, who wants to be in your life. For longer than a one-night stand." He smiles at me and I see for the first time, why I possibly could like him.

"Also, statistics show higher rates of being robbed or kidnapped, when you have one-night stands." This remark almost makes me laugh, even though it's frightening.

"Well, who would even notice, if I would disappear? Probably only my clients, because they need me." I lower my head, being completely honest with him for the first time.

"I would notice."

When I look at him, he takes a step towards me. His fingers gently slide over my shoulder and brush my hair aside, the touch makes a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

"I couldn't annoy you anymore. My life would be pretty boring without you. And it's not so bad to be able to look at such a pretty face every day, even if it always looks at me annoyed, like all the time." I quietly laugh at that, feeling surprisingly good because of his compliment.

We look at each other, now being really close. My eyes travel to his lips and I don´t even know how it happens, but suddenly he is all over me. His lips on mine, his hands on my waist, lifting me up to sit me on the desk. I moan softly when his hands tangle in my hair and he pushes himself closer to me, so that he's standing between my legs. One of his hands gently wraps around my neck and I feel my loud pulse.

My hands move too, stroking his back and holding him closer to me by his tie. As he pulls his lips away from me, he lifts my chin with his finger. Now, looking down at me with widen pupils. I hold his eye contact, forgetting all about my issues with him, when he speaks to me with a deep voice (which I suddenly don´t think sounds irritating anymore).

"Be angry at me tomorrow and mine for tonight. I bet, all your frustration from work and your thin nerves can catch a break, what do you say?"

Not much. Because I pull him towards me by his tie and kiss him again. I don't want to stop at all anymore. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm and his hands find their way to my waist again to lift me up again. When he crosses the living room with quick steps and lays me down on the sofa, I already feel out of breath and clearly turned on.

His kisses become more intense, his lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving marks there. But it feels too good to make him stop.

"I will gladly hear your excuses, when someone asks you about your hickeys tomorrow. Because you will be all flustered, when you think again about this moment. Where you are ready to be fucked by your colleague, who you despise so much." I whimper as he pushes up my dress and his hands pull my tights down to my knees. The cold air hits my skin, but I don't really notice it, because his lips are on my neck again and his fingers connect first with my stomach and then further down. I hold my breath as his lips touch my ear and his fingers stroke my folds.

"So wet for me. Didnt think, I would turn you on this much." I kiss him to shut him up.

"You are-" I moan, when he finally puts a finger in me. "-so annoying." He laughs at me.

"Am I? But you seem to like it." I feel myself getting wetter, his fingers feel so good as they move gently but firmly inside me. One of his hands moves to push my dress further up and somehow, he manages to pull it over my head. Now, I'm lying in front of him in just a bra, his hands slowly find their way over my body and to my back, which I lift slightly so that he can open the clasp.

When I lie naked in front of him and he massages my breasts, his lips touch mine and his fingers stimulate me, I feel like I'm in heaven.

He breaks apart, so he can look at me and I draw my eyebrows together, when his fingers increase in speed. My mouth opens and the sounds that escape me echo in the apartment.

"I'm- god, I think I am going to come-" at that he starts to tease me, going slower but a lot deeper. My eyes almost roll back as he hits a certain spot inside me.

"That feels good? What do you say, when you want something?" You stupid idiot.

"You stupid-" I begin to say as his lips graze my nipple and his finger scissor and stretch me out further.

"One word, darling. Say it." And because I feel this knot inside me (and maybe this side of him turns me on, like a lot), I finally open my mouth to please him.

"Please, Mike. I-I need to-" My sentence is cut off as his fingers speed up and I moan loudly.

"Thats a good girl, you can be so good to me, if I make you." His lips search mine as I finally come. My breathing is heavy and when I come down from my high and look at his face, I see the satisfied expression.

"You are done-" I can't maintain my strict facial expression and suddenly have to start smiling. His eyes widen in surprise and I raise my eyebrows, still smiling softly.

"What?" I quietly laugh at his expression.

"Nothing, its just- I have never seen you smiling so happy." I roll my eyes gently. As I look at him closer now, I see the bulge in his pants and the loosened tie. As I lean forward, his eyes shift to my body.

"You still are fully clothed. A bit unfair, don't you think?" I watch him swallow and my hands move to his chest to slowly unbutton his shirt. As I also remove the tie and slip the shirt from his shoulders, I sit myself on his lap. Rocking my hips forward and seeing his eyes close. His hands move to my hips and begin to control the movements, my eyes close too and my head leans into the crook of his neck as the movements become faster.

Sighs and heavy breaths leave his lips and once again, one of his hands moves to grab my breasts, lightly grazing the nipples.

I look at him, noticing his swollen lips and his flushed cheeks. His hair is a mess and his forehead is furrowed, but he tries his best to pull himself together.

I groan as I look at him and suddenly think back to todays afternoon, when he was on a phone call and I heard how he listed one reciting fact after another, without any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"N-nothing" I'm definitely too embarrassed to admit how much his intelligence and the way he seems to know everything, turns me on.

One of his hands moves to my entrance and teases me by just circling around it. When I try to push myself down, he pulls his fingers away.

"You tell me, whats going on in that pretty head of yours and you'll get me." My body feels so hot, I can't think properly anymore.

"You where on a phone call today and you just- you listed without any effort every single point that will help you win the case. You just said it like- it's nothing."

When his fingers dig into me again, I bite my lips. I try to control my moans and not pay attention to the fact, that I just gave him every opportunity to make him be more complacent than his usual self.

His fingers pump into me and I feel slightly overstimulated. But I wouldnt want to stop now.

"You get off by the thought of me, saying memorized facts? Who would have thought that my intelligence would turn you on so much." God, his ego probably doesn't fit in this apartment anymore.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you still annoy me." Now I'm really just trying to get myself out of the situation. I lean towards him, so he can't say anything anymore and pull on his blonde hair to distract him.

Moans escape my lips and when I notice that his noises are also getting louder, I pull away from him. He looks at me confused.

"I want you inside me." Thats all I say, but he quickly complies with my request. I slide off his lap and wait for him to take off his pants and boxers until he's finally on top of me again. His fingers find my bottom lip and while maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth so he can insert a finger. My tongue brushes against his and after a few moments of him pressing on my tongue, he lets his fingers move back to the spot that needs him the most.

He stretches me for a few minutes until he finally guides his cock to my hole and slowly penetrates me. My eyes close and I hear his breath in my ear as he pushes further.

"You are so tight- good thing finally someone fucks you." I nod without thinking and hear his laughter in my ear.

"You think so too, huh. Would you let anyone fuck you then?" My stomach tenses, I feel the pleasure growing again and every movement of him. This feels so good-

I try to shake my head, but I'm too lost in the sensations to pay much attention to his words.

"No? But I thought, you hate me. Why would you let me fuck you, if you don´t even like me?" His thrusts become faster and more uncontrolled, I feel him getting closer to his own high.

"I-" I try to stutter "d-don´t hate you." I feel myself getting closer and reach into his hair, pulling at the roots and feeling his lips on my shoulder. His thrusts become more powerful and as he moves his hand and massages my clitoris, suddenly everything goes white in front of my eyes and I come.

I feel every inch inside of me, feel his fingers brush over the visible bulge in my stomach and think to myself: god I feel so full

When he comes too, I moan so loudly that it's impossible that my neighbors didn't hear me. His hand finds its way around my chin, he slides a finger into my mouth and I feel my vagina tighten because of it.

He hisses and his thrusts slow down until he finally pulls out of me, trying not to fall on top of me. As I give him some space next to me, he falls halfway on me, but pulls me on top of him in the next second and I can hear his strong heartbeat. With his outstretched hand he pulls the blanket over me, that had fallen to the floor.

We both try to catch our breath and as the minutes pass, only the wind outside is heard. He is the first to break the silence.

"So, you don't hate me?" I lift my head from his naked chest to look at him.

"Only sometimes." He shakes his head and smiles, gently stroking my back.

The evening went by quickly, we ordered a pizza and ate it (clothed) on the terrace. We were going over his documents for tomorrow, I blushed at the thought that this was the real reason he came here, but he just hugged me from behind after we finished and continued watching the stars.

It's not really clear what this evening means for us, but I don´t want to get into that, not yet. Because I'm not sure what it means anyway.

Because now, I have to get used to the fact that his voice no longer irritates me, that his jokes no longer annoy me and that he as a person, is actually not as bad as I imagined.

"Who thought, I was the one to get you relax."

But he is still a show-off.

[kooksbunnnn]

Lost cause? 4: Can my happiness ever last?

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook× Female!Reader

Genre: Established relationship/ marriage, angst, heartbreak, makeout and kissing mentions, INFIDELITY. Panic attacks (TRIGGER WARNING). Pregnancy (do not read if this content triggers you) also, 18+, This is purely a work of FICTION please take it as FICTION only. Therapy and psychological conversations. Tears, guilt, regret and hope maybe?

Word counts: 10.1k approx

Summary: You always wondered, how would your life turn out to be if you and Jungkook had a baby? So, when you finally conceive and decide to tell your husband that you are pregnant, you didn't expect him to drop this bomb on you. You never would've thought that the surprise you planned would end up in agonized tears because of the shock your husband brings you. 

Authors note: Hello, my lovely readers, or should I call you all my bunnnnys? It sounds cute to me hehe, its a cute little name for my kooksbunnnn family, the readers who wait for me, love me, and read the stories I write. Thank you for waiting so patiently, ily guys. Here's chapter 4, I got a little carried away with words, hence the 10k 👉👈 sorry for the long wait once again, enjoy the chapter now. Bye-bye!

Previous chapter

___________________________________________

Seriously breathe louder Ross

You giggle watching an Instagram reel of a scene from friends where a pregnant Rachel snaps at Ross, who was just standing as you put another grape into your mouth from the container Jungkook packed for you with washed grapes.

As you scroll through the comments on the mentioned reel, you can't help but read some of the comments,

Comment: Rachel has such pretty hair.

True. You always wanted to try her hairstyles.

Comment: people should appreciate how the writers gave every female character a different kind of motherhood and different experiences, and it’s beautiful how they portrayed every feeling. Also, I can't imagine how one of them had a miscarriage in real.

Miscarriage. This word itself makes your body shiver with fear, and you immediately feel your throat get heavy. You shake your head at this and scroll further, not wanting to cry for the 6th time on the same day.

Comment: Being pregnant is a magical experience, sure, but it's a whole ass rollercoaster of emotions, and you won't be ready for the amount of mood swings that come with it.

Yea, No shit.

Comment: I love how Rachel had a character development nobody ever expected.

Mhm. True.

Comment: Can’t believe how they ended up together even after Ross cheated on her.

That got personal, guess it was time to delete Instagram.

Month 6 and a half, day 188 since that night and you’re surprisingly alive. The night your heart got broken and you didn't think you would make it through 2 months of life.

More like, you didn't think you could make it alone, without Jungkook. Technically? Yes, you couldn't live without seeing him or hearing him for the start of your pregnancy and now he is always around you.

Always around. Helping you sit, eat, drink, lie, puke, pee, and all this while being at his respectable distance from you.

“Cut yourself some slack, you're growing someone inside you. It's okay to be dependent while you're going through so much..” that's what your mom said when you asked her about your future and if it was a mistake going through with this.

Looking back to her advice from weeks ago you feel like you are being a little hard on yourself. Therapy. Sonograms. Lamaze classes, doctor appointments, morning-afternoon-evening sickness, hormones, mood swings, and whatnot. You feel excited for your baby to come into the world but would it be wrong if you said you were scared?

When you asked these questions to the people around you these were the answers:

Mom: “Yes honey, of course, it’s okay to be scared. Your life will change, and sometimes you feel like you won't know what you’re doing, but trust me having kids is a tiring but very beautiful experience.”

Dad: “Sweetie, it's completely normal. Your mom used to freak out a lot as well when she had you. We’re here for you, it's all gonna be okay.

Namjoon’s wife, Binna: “I have seen my sister go through it and I am gonna be honest, it is difficult and the delivery is gonna be tough but the results make it all worth it. I am so excited to start my family one day, too!”

Jin’s wife: “It's a little nerve-wracking, to be honest, but it's the best thing Y/N, trust me I have never cried harder than when I saw that my test results were not accurate, I was heartbroken. Trust me, this is the best thing that would happen to you.”

Namjoon, Jin, and Jimin in different words but similar contexts: “I don't know much about how you're feeling right now so I can't say I understand but trust me, I’ll be by your side and our dumb little brother’s side always. We’re a family, Y/N.”

Hobi and Taehyung came together while you and Jungkook were having dinner: We have seen our sisters and relatives go through pregnancy, and it honestly looks so overwhelming. We respect women more every day. We’re here always, just one call away.” They had said with smiles on their faces.

Yoongi: “I am not good with words or comforting people, Y/N, but I just wanna assure you that I am always here. All of us will be there for you both. It's not gonna be easy for you, mentally or body-wise, but never feel alone. You’re our family and always will be, no matter what.” He said, patting you like you were a kid while Jungkook sniffled sitting by your side in your sitting area.

The most common advice everyone gave was: Be easy with yourself, mentally, emotionally, and physically. You’re going through a lot.

And it was true. You and Jungkook have been working on your relationship’s progress ever since your first session, and somehow it was going pretty well. You had dinner together and he made sure he attended the sonography sessions and therapy sessions with you.

You had regular sessions together and Ms. Shin recommended you both try talking about the future ahead. No definite planning, just talking about the options.

Wall paints, cradles, toys, shopping, diaper brands, baby food, everything you could see in the future around your baby. Since the biggest reason for fixing your relationship was because of your baby, you needed to familiarize yourself sitting around talking about the little person gluing you both together.

So you both decided to have dinner together daily and decided to make a pre-baby diary while eating. Yes, it was Jungkook’s idea. It's been 8 days since the last therapy session and you have already listed the paint options for the baby’s room, went maternity clothes shopping with your husband and browsed some cradle options.

All was well, right?

On the outside, yes. In your ovaries? No.

The lingering attraction you so badly tried to avoid for the past week is still lingering in the air around you. You roll your eyes as you feel embarrassment creep up your neck at how dumb you have been behaving around your husband.

You feel emotional, horny and everything at once. Absolutely mental.

♡♡♡

“I don't think I am normal anymore.”

The therapist watches you utter the sentence with a manic like chuckle. She must be thinking you're insane. You notice how her hand freezes for a mini second and then continues to pass you the glass filled with water.

“My question, however, Mrs Jeon, was how did your weekend shopping go, but you can still go on. Why would you think such a thought?” Your therapist calmly asks you after waiting for your response to her earlier question for a good minute.

You finally take the glass of water in her hand stretched towards you after muttering a low ‘thankyou’.

After what happened with you and Jungkook and his damn damp hair, you were freaking out. One moment you were feeling like you could cry out of embarrassment but the next moment you wanted to make out with him in the kitchen while he wore his white dress shirt and those grey joggers you always loved.

Okay. You know this is weird, hence the embarrassment. Duh?! Earlier you weren't able to control the urges you felt, the mood swings, the craving, and now?! This fucking arousal.

You made an appointment with your doctor as soon as you woke up the following morning, hoping she would prescribe some pills or any kind of medications to reduce the arousal you felt but it didn’t help you much because there was no way of completely avoiding that.

The doctor didn’t suggest you take the pills that might’ve helped you because you already had a lot of mood swings and anxiety episodes, those pills could’ve worsened them. She makes sense, a lot of sense but only when you thought about it with a cool head.

But at that moment, while she was telling you all that? It's just safe to say you can grit your anger in between your teeth.

Now you were sitting in front of your therapist hoping she would help you reverse the psychology or something which would help you not feel horny for your husband.

‘Your husband who betrayed you and was now trying to make up for what he did which you were okay with and hoping for everything to be better one fucking day ago but now you feel like you wanna kiss him so badly it makes you dizzy’

It was like a mantra, hecheatedhecheatedhecheated, so that you don't pull him in to kiss the shit out of his cute little face.

When you say the same things you thought, your therapist nodded her head noting something down in her notepad. Maybe she thought you were mental.

“Mrs Jeon, I would suggest you control your sexual urges towards your husband by trying to remove yourself from the room he’s in. Considering he doesn’t sleep with you, but if he does-“ but you cut her sentence in the middle by whispering quickly in his defense.

“No-no he doesn't, he sleeps outside in the lobby.” You shake your head not making eye contact, feeling somehow guilty of your husband's daily discomfort.

“And it's completely okay, Mrs. Jeon, to have your space and have some distance. It doesn't make you a bad person.”

Damn, she is good. You need to give her great ratings. You look up at her and watch as she nods her head with a small smile making you feel at ease.

“Did you talk about this issue with Mr. Jeon?” She asks you, and you shake your head slightly. Why do you feel guilty, and what do you feel guilty of most importantly? Nodding to your reaction, she says, “Would you like to discuss why?”

“Would that even change anything?” You say with a huff a second after she finishes her sentence, frustration evident on your face.

Shrugging she says, “It might make things clearer..” her eyes slowly crinkled due to her hair falling in her eyes. Flicking it away she looks at you slightly tilting her head. “Isn't this what you chose, Mrs Jeon? Being honest is what your relationship needs at this point, isn’t it?

Sighing you realize how you might be running away from things, after all, you chose this journey. You both did and somehow you feel you might be turning into an obstacle towards a better family life, yourself.

Turning your head towards the plant in the room’s corner, you speak with a distant voice, “I don't know, All that I have gathered from the problems I have had in my life is that I could win any kind of battle if it were against my mind but if it's my heart I am fighting against? It's a fucking lost cause.”

“What do you think is the reason you would be fighting your heart, Mrs jeon?”

You scoff whipping your head towards her, eyes glistening. Digging your nails before saying what you feel just on the tip of your tongue,

“I love him.”

There's a pause, followed by your therapist humming.

“I love him so much I wanna forgive him and try to make things better but..”

“But..?”

Another pause. A suffocating one.

“I can't seem to do that to myself or my kid. What kind of an example would I be if I give in to something that's not right?!” After you notice how your expressions change into a frustrated scowl in the tiny mirror behind your therapist's head you feel your tears start to fall off.

“I am sorry.” You say sniffling and somehow embarrassed of your feelings taking over you.

“It's okay, Mrs. Jeon, here..” she offered you the tissue kept on her desk, and you wiped your tears chuckling at your situation.

How did your life get to where it was? You have no absolute fucking clue.

♡♡♡

You wince minutely when you reminisce how your last session went with Ms. Shin.

One moment you were crying because you can't forget the night he told you that he cheated on you and one moment you cried because you wanna hug him and then cry into his chest about how your hormones wanted you to kiss him but you can't because then you would cry about how you shouldn't be feeling like this about someone who betrayed you, then again you cry because you can't forget how he betrayed you.

It's like a frustrating cycle. A cycle you wanna throw off of a freaking dam to let it drown and maybe rust when the water starts to break the metal. Maybe that would help break it because there was no way in hell you could succeed in breaking it.

Not to mention how you have to pee every minute of the day and then crave pickles with some honey on them while sitting on the toilet seat.

Sounds tasty, right? Yeah, you shake your head in a quick no too as soon as you step outside and think how pickles would rather taste better with peanut butter on it.

As you deal with your tears and the spasmodic hand stomping on the pillow or table around you to let go of the kissy-kissy thoughts in your head, your husband stays clueless.

Not clueless about the hormones, na-ah.

Just the fact that you stare at him before you slap your hand on the table, or thump down the cup on the table too harshly for anyone to not notice. He tried to ask you if you felt okay. But ended up getting yelled at for not leaving you alone.

You once yelled at him for leaving the windows open which you asked to be left open, saying he should’ve known better when to close them.

This looks cute in shows and movies of how cute the mother-to-be looks yelling at a clueless husband but you on the other hand feel bad for making him feel actually at fault when he has been trying his best to make you feel comfortable.

What does he do after getting yelled at? He apologizes, does what you asked or yelled at him to do, and leaves. He still comes back and eats the dinner your mother made with you and your dad helping her out.

You feel terrible for how you are behaving around him, the worst part being that he takes everything you do and say to him without even reacting ever so slightly. You tried living life with him normally but you can’t forget the thought that lingers in the back of your head; that the favorite part of living your life with him was the affection, the touches.

It's frustrating to say the least that you haven't even hugged him in the last few months, you know that there is a reason behind the distance but since your mind tells you to create boundaries and try things again, your heart doesn’t understand how someone could try to make things better from a distance. Especially you and Jungkook.

He did everything according to how you needed without you telling him. Your childhood therapist once told you no matter how perfect a person tried to be there are certain situations where you can’t control the things the universe decides for you. She said that when you were having trouble accepting that you were the reason one of your ex-best friends changed schools, stating that you made her feel insecure. You had no idea.

So you accepted your fate, then and now as well. Doing things as they go in the flow. You had a discussion with your parents about how you are supposed to be having dinner with Jungkook as advised by your therapist so your mom and dad eat their dinner by 7 o’clock as advised by their doctors while you accompany them by having your soup or tea.

They thought it was a good idea so you agreed to do it.

By 9 o’clock or quarter to 9 Jungkook enters and you have your dinner and the discussion you are supposed to have about the baby.

It has been 15 minutes since your mom and dad went to their room after insisting on sitting with you while you wait for Jungkook to be back. You have your phone in your hand which starts to buzz with Jungkook’s name on the screen with the bunny emoji.

Picking up with a smile you answer to his voice.

God, you missed him.

Yep, you said it.

Picking up he seems like he is on the way and is trying to get his phone back from someone. “Hyung give me my phone back, hold his hands Yoongi hyung, hey-!” yes he was snatching his phone back.

You can hear a bunch of yelling noises in the background and you recognize the screaming voice immediately, Jimin. You shake your head at the chaos and smile putting a grape in your mouth.

“Hey, Y/N I am sorry I am a little late, I just wanted to ask if it's okay with me to bring Jimin and Yoongi Hyung over to your parent's house we have a bit of a situation on our hands.”

“Yeah, of course, kook, it's okay. Is everything okay though?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

“What did you call me?”

Your eyes widen at how you didn't even realize how normal this felt to you. You haven't called him Kook ever since you cried in his car after your first therapy session, always walking on eggshells.

“Y/N?”

Courage. Squeezing your fist and eyes shut you say,

“I called you k-kook. Is that not okay?”

Your leg starts to shake not knowing what to say next.

“No! Fuck, I mean it's more than okay. You know what? Let's not talk about it I don't wanna jinx it.” You can hear him smile and you can't help but widen your smile. It has been so long since you smiled this wide and you somehow feel better.

You repeat the words in your head, Don't feel guilty Y/N, go with it. Go with the flow. Cut yourself some slack. You’re going through a lot, be easy on yourself.

You smile and hear him chuckle before-

“Oh, no hyung not in my car ugh, we’ll be there in 5 minutes Y/N, I’ll reheat the food when I get there don't worry. Yoongi Hyung push his head out the window please-” And he hangs up.

Smiling at the chaotic phone call, you get up to check on your mom and dad if they are still up, wanting to tell them about the guests coming over. But since they were soundly asleep with the nightlights on, you switch them off, regulate the fan's speed, and take the phone from your sleeping-snoring mom’s hand plugging it to the charger and checking if they had water around them.

After checking up on your parents you close the door to their room and walk towards the kitchen to drink some water. Even the small activities could make a pregnant lady tired and the jug in your room was empty so you walked slowly towards the fridge. The pain getting better but still evident in your lower back which makes you put a hand on your back while you open the refrigerator.

Suddenly you spot a Harley bike model Jungkook gifted your father when he came home to meet your parents for the first time. Your father was really happy seeing the model, him being a Harley fan. If age didn't play a role in life your father would've still been traveling with your mom like those couples you saw in uni.

You remember how you and Jungkook loved to travel on his bike, you holding onto him as if your life depended on it, hair flowing from under the helmet and him accelerating the bike through the streets, hills, and empty roads leading to the cabin the whole group planned to visit during his and Namjoon’s collective birthday celebration.

Damn, you were so in love. Still are, and will probably always be.

The group has always been there for you, they're like the family you never knew you needed until they came into your life. The chaos was a part of your life, the screams, the teasing, the weekend game nights, the celebrations, movie nights which turned into everybody and their girlfriends crashing in the lobby on the mattresses Jungkook bought for the night stays.

You remember what the situation was when you met him for the first time six years ago.

♡♡♡

“Damnit Tae, jump outta here.” You argue with Taehyung as the three of you look out the window of your room.

“Fuck no. Are you mental? I’ll die if I jump out of here.” Taehyung says whisper yelling at your roommate, Aera, who rolls her eyes at her dramatic “friend” panicking with wide eyes.

“No, you won't, don’t be dramatic.” You scoff as you push him slightly in the windows direction.

“It's a whole ass floor Y/N, the fuck is wrong with you?” He scowls at you as he regains balance panicking.

“Maybe we should call Jungkook.”

“Jungkook? Jeon Jungkook with that loud-ass bike? Nice. Sneaking a boy out of our room with the help of another boy. Fan-fucking-tastic, Taehyung.” You clap two times with a straight face.

“Guys,” your friend giggles as she tries to focus on the main topic in the room, while Taehyung goes back to sit on your roommate’s bed.

“I think he is right, Y/N, we could at least get help from JK.”

“Mhm, help in getting kicked out.” You mumble not so quietly earning yourself a middle finger from Taehyung and an eyeroll from Aera.

“Fine, do whatever you want.” You say rolling your eyes.

The thing was you were only partly nervous because of your forced eviction but also because you had never met Jungkook, the campus crush. More like the crush of every girl who saw him on his bike. You were not one of them, at least you wouldn't admit that but you wouldn't deny that he was a pretty face to look at and a very hot piece of ass to stare at. The proportions of that man were totally insane.

Tiny waist, big- biteable chest, broad shoulders, thick thighs, luscious hair locks, biceps people could hang on, the all-black outfit, and the very contrasting facial features. If he wore a helmet people wouldn't imagine how the guy had big doe boba eyes and a cute mole under his lips, skin better than half of the girls who spent so much on products. He always had that glint in his eyes making him seem so innocent, innocent but with a physique that can crush people.

You never talked to him so you don't know how he sounds or if he is a rude person. You just know he is Taehyung’s friend whom he hangs out with around the campus.

While you thought about how Jungkook might or might not be your crush, Taehyung called him and you all got up to sneak him out of the house.

“Wait you don't need to come if you don't want to Y/N,” Aera said after looking around the hallways and telling Taehyung to tiptoe downstairs since her aunt’s room was on the same floor as yours.

“H-Huh? N-no I wanna go as well. So that if she wakes up I can tell her we both went out to get some fresh air while the guys ran away y-you know? “

You said. Terrible at lying. You wanted to see the man coming to save his friend.

Your friend was in a hurry sneaking her fuck buddy out so she didn't pay attention to what you said and how you said it. A total stuttering mess.

Walking out of the house you never imagined him to be so..so..so tasty. Thats the only words that come to your mind. He parked his bike at a safe distance because of how much noise it made and approached you guys.

The image in your hand was like the 480p version of how beautiful and ethereal he was but in reality, he had tattoos. Tattoos! Not even a small one, a whole arm that stretched inside his white sleeveless tee.

You thanked the cloth gods for making this particular article of clothing because you needed to see how hot men you would want to eat up looked in it.

“Told you, you would need my help.” He smirks as Taehyung walks past him only turning around to come back and give Aera a quick kiss and then running away again, making her blush.

“Run dumbass, their landlord would skewer us on her cane,” Taehyung says and you chuckle at how exaggerated he made Aera’s aunt sound. At your chuckle, Jungkook looks at you and you pause mid-laugh when you notice him looking at you.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook.” He extends his hand towards you and you blush not knowing how to respond to his raspy voice.

“Yeah, I know you.” You say staring at him with heat on your cheeks and immediately kick yourself mentally.

You sound like a fucking creep. I know you? seriously?

He smiles, “..and you are..?

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to be rude I’m Y/N, Hi heh.” You extend your hand to shake his and he whispers your name under his breath eyes still looking into yours.

“Hi Y/N, you’re very pretty.” While he rubs his thumb on your already heating skin making it burst into flames as he rubs it again.

“Kook!” Taehyung yells and you break the eye contact, taking your hand back.

“It's okay don't be sorry, I didn't find you rude rather, I found you cute.” He says as you look at him again. You think it was an imagination of your beauty-struck head or maybe it was due to dark but..did he just check you out?

You give him a confused look at what he said, making him chuckle. He sounds so deliciously hot and raspy. God.

“That you know who I am, considering how you’re always in the art studio. I found it cute.” He says with a smile leaning slightly towards your face and you lean back at the same time he leans in. He stays towering over you and maybe notices your expressions. You just hope he didn't notice how red your cheeks might be.

Does he know about the art studio? Only people close to you knew about it.

Seeing your wide eyes, he straightens up to his original height and chuckles. He sounds so good, it reaches inside you and you knew that you were fucked.

“Kook?” You didn't even notice when Taehyung came back to drag his friend back. Slapping his shoulder and then sprinting towards the bike again.

“Kook, let's go. She switched on some kind of light in her room oh god. She’ll beat your and my asses collectively.” Taehyung yells waving his friends over.

“Hey we’re gonna be in the beat party as well, Y/N lets go,” Aera speaks from the driveway of her aunt's house, slowly retrieving her steps.

But you were stuck. Stuck on how his bunny teeth played with the piercing on his lips. Not being able to bear eye contact with him, you flicked your eyes away.

When Taehyung yelled again from a distance, Jungkook responded with a ‘yea yea coming’ while stepping backward with his white sleeveless tee sticking to his body.

Generally, you didn't like summers but you were so glad it was hot enough that he decided to wear a sleeveless outfit, for you to ogle his tattoos.

Taehyung and Aera were already away from the both of you, Taehyung at a safer distance from the house and Aera still waiting for you at the house hoping her aunt just woke up for her nightly washroom trips and didn't see you guys with these beautiful men.

With a smile on his face, he stepped back facing you. Clicking his tongue twice to get your attention, you looked at him to immediately regret locking eyes with him. He winked at you and said, “See you around, sweetheart.”

You swear you saw his eyes flitting to your lips and then to your skirt that was flowing with the slight wind in the surroundings before he turned around and ran towards his panicking friend.

You knew he was casually flirting and was out of your league. And since you didn't believe your luck would suddenly turn out to be on your side you didn't think of his wink as something more than something casual.

But goddamnit, the crush you never admitted to, was finally admitted in your heart.

♡♡♡

You smile as you pick the model in your hand at the fond memories of how you tried so hard to remain just friends with the guy even though he hung out with you daily, accompanied you in your art studio confirming he knew about you before meeting you. You never knew your friendship could be more than what it was but maybe growing up and getting jobs made you want to prioritize yourself and your wants, so you decided to tell him how you felt but he beat you to it three days before you planned on confessing.

“Sorry sweetheart, wanted to kiss you as my girlfriend on Valentine's Day without the fear of rejection in the back of my brain.” That's what he said before he kissed the living daylights out of you on the gazebo at your favorite park.

You smile remembering how he took you to the park saying the cherry blossoms were blooming early that year, you believed him nodding with excitement and you went along with him running and holding hands. Reaching there you were sad that no blossoms were blooming but then he gave you the promise ring he ordered from the vintage store you loved so much. You knew it cost him a lot but when you asked him about it he just chuckled deeply avoiding that question and before you could pick that topic again he kneeled on one knee and asked you to be his girlfriend officially.

You smile at the memories and keep the bike model back on the shelf, the flashback coming to a halt as you come back to the living room when your phone buzzes with your husband's name on it.

He didn't ring the doorbell nowadays to be cautious in case your parents were asleep. So you went to the door and opened it already expecting Jimin leaning on Jungkook’s shoulders while Yoongi just snickered at his younger brother, seeming unconscious but Jimin was very much awake, also very very drunk as he clung to Yoongi telling him everything was going to be okay. Jungkook held three bags as he gave you a sheepish smile at his Hyungs’ behavior.

“Yes, Yes, Jimin. It's gonna be okay.” Yoongi held Jimin very firmly while giving you a small smile before asking where to put him so that he could blubber nonsense somewhere your neighbors wouldn't hear.

Jungkook chuckles and leads them to the guest room while muttering a ‘hi’, looking at you from head to toe as if checking if you had any injuries.

“Hi,” you whisper, enough for him to catch your voice.

“How was your day?” You ask trying to take the bags from his hand but he tilts his body giving you a look that says ‘Really?’.

Sighing with a smile, you close the door and follow him inside.

“It was good- Oh shit the guest room door is locked. Wait hyung let me get the key” he put the bags on the counter while a grunting Yoongi held a wobbly Jimin in his hands.

“Wow realized it so soon,” Yoongi says sarcastically l as Jimin looks at you with a smile on his face. Gasping dramatically, he removes himself from his brother's shoulders and comes towards you, slightly tilted, but he somehow reaches you.

“I can see your baby.” Your eyes widen at what he said and you scoff a laugh as Jimin kneels down in front of your belly.

“He means you’re showing, and he is noticing that now, only, he sounds creepy as fuck.” Yoongi walks back to the sofa and sits down with a long sigh.

“May I please?” He says as hovers his hands over your belly with big puppy eyes and you chuckle at how patiently he wants you to answer.

“Yes, Jimin you may.” You say with a laugh and he whispers to your tummy hovering his hand above it like it's a crystal ball.

“Hi tiny person, I am Jimin, your godfather..” he giggles at the end of his sentence while you hear Yoongi chuckle from the couch.

“The fuck? When did we decide that hyung?” Jungkook stands next to you with keys hanging from his fingers, narrowed gaze focused on his elder brother.

“Shhhhhh” Jimin shushes Jungkook loudly almost spitting on your belly. You laugh as he looks pointedly at Jungkook.

“You don’t get to decide that. Dumbass.” Jimin slurs out and tries to get up grabbing the trousers Jungkook wore, almost making him fall over with his weight.

“Hyung, fuck you’re heavy when drunk.”

“I fucking know right? I don’t know how that happens..” Yoongi mumbles typing something on his phone, stretching his neck sideways to pop the strained muscle.

Jungkook stumbles while you also try to help him balance Jimin by bending slightly to keep a hand on his shoulders, but then you remove it as Jungkook whispers ‘I got him I got him’ assuringly not wanting you to take any strain.

Smiling to yourself you walk over to the couch adjacent to where Yoongi was sitting, asking if he needed water or anything like that.

“Nah I’m good. Thanks.” He waves his hand as he keeps his phone aside watching how Jungkook manages to drag Jimin back.

“...You’ll look good in a tutu as well..” Jimin says to Jungkook poking a finger to his sides continuously. “You know a white one with stars on it, I’ll gift it to the baby so that you can match your outfits then” Jungkook rolls his eyes in annoyance as Jimin’s voice fades into the guest room Jungkook opens for him to sleep in.

“Let me go check up on him yeah?” Yoongi says softly getting up from the couch, picking up a banana on the way to the guest room. Raising one of his brows and the fruit in the air as if asking for permission to eat it. You tilt your head with narrowed eyes passing on the message, ‘You have to ask?’

He smiles slightly shrugging and heads towards the guest room while pealing the banana.

“Jungkook, is he under control now or still wobbly- oh, fuck no-“ Yoongi asks from outside of the room but then pauses in his tracks as you hear Jungkook whine slightly out of disgust and you immediately get up feeling a slight ache in your lower back due to the hurry.

“Is everything okay?” You ask concern evident in your eyes.

Yoongi chuckles and moves away from the door, shaking his head. “Not gonna eat this now, sorry, Y/N.” He says, still laughing.

“Oh no did he-“Before you could say something Jungkook stomps his way out of the guest room and you immediately feel nausea entering you seeing your husband's sleeve covered in vomit.

“Hyung could you please help me heat the food? I’m gonna go take a shower, sorry hyungie just please-“ he continues walking towards the common bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Sure” Yoongi chuckles moving towards the fridge.

“I’ll help you..” you take a step towards the crockery cupboard.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll do it, you sit.” He says pausing you midway.

“No Yoongi lemme help..” you say but he just points the small spoon towards the island chair.

“It's okay Y/N I’ll do it.” He says nodding while opening the Tupperware filled with the various side dishes and the tofu-miso stew.

“I just don't wanna trouble you Yoongi, thanks though.” You say giving up on offering help as he heats the food one by one in the microwave.

“Oh it's not for free, I am taking the godfather’s title in exchange for this.” He smirks glancing at the room Jimin slept in.

“Yeah okay, try beating Jimin for the title. You chuckle looking in the same direction for a second and then at the man heating up the food. While he just gives you a small laugh while warming up the rice in the cooker, mumbling, “We’ll see who wins.”

You smile and pat your feet on the ground in a rhythm as Yoongi places the food on the kitchen island. You feel guilty for making him do this but he has already rejected your help three times so there was no point in arguing over it.

“Y/N?” Yoongi whispers looking at a plate in his hand.

“Yea?”

“I know it's none of my business and I should not even say something about this but can I just say it's really nice that you’re trying again?” He says lifting his head to look at your reaction to what he said.

You feel yourself freeze, this is the first time you had a conversation about your situation with Jungkook, the cheating, and the decision to try again. You sure talked about the pregnancy and yes there was always that lingering awkwardness in the air but this was new.

“Yea..” you sigh looking at your lap for a second and then lifting your head to give him a soft smile.

“Not everyone is lucky enough to get a chance to revive their relationship.” He says still looking at the plate while tracing the pattern on it with his index finger.

You know that his relationship ended badly, you knew how much he loved his girlfriend, you know he acts like it's okay but his dark circles tell another story, you know he looks thin and exhausted all the time but acts like it's nothing.

You know it's not nothing.

“Yoongi, I am sorry about-“But before you could finish your sentence he laughs almost in pain.

“It's okay Y/N, it's done, she is gone. She is happy without me and I can't change that.” He says and you feel your heart break at how small he sounds.

“It sucks but it's true.” He says softly, half to you half to himself, still trying to process his grief over the relationship he lost. After an uncomfortable pause, he continues.

“I saw him Y/N,” he points his chin in the direction of the washroom Jungkook was taking a shower in when you look at him confused at the change of topic.

“..and don't think I am taking his side 'cause he is like a brother to me but I say this honestly, he was devastated while he was away from you.” You just stare at him with eyes round and wide not expecting this conversation to go this way.

“He forgot to eat and sleep, just kept asking Jin Hyung and me if we saw you or if any other of guys saw you.” He says while you look at him nervously talking about the topic, picking his nails.

“Do you remember the time you were at the hospital due to your abdominal pain?” You nod at his question feeling your throat tighten up uncomfortably so you divert your gaze down at the plate with little blue flowers printed on the ceramic.

“He ran to the hospital since his car was still parked at your previous address.” Your eyes widen and you whip your head toward the man standing in front of you.

What does he mean he ran?

“What?” You whisper.

“Taehyung had a night shift and he was alone at the apartment. I tried to tell him to wait for me to pick him up when he called to ask if Taehyung left office or not, but he just hung up saying it would take too long.”

“So he ran to you.” You feel your throat tighten as humanly possible, eyes burning.

Wasn’t Taehyung’s house almost double times the way compared to your route connecting your house to the hospital? You can't even comprehend how he felt when you didn't even talk to him that day.

Shouldn’t you feel like he deserved to feel like that? Shouldn't you say that he did that to himself? That was what you should've said right? But your heart thumps harder every second making your eyes spill the tears gathering in them.

You remember Jungkook was really out of breath and was also wearing different slippers that day.

“Since it was pretty late, he couldn't even book a cab quickly..” Yoongi looks at you and notices how your gaze is zeroed onto him and immediately understands your expressions.

“Hey, I am not trying to make you feel bad or something like that, what he did and what you guys decided is totally none of my business but I just wanted to tell you that giving a second chance is not easy and I really wish things work out for your relationship. I really appreciate you both working through so much stress you know? I can see what his vision meant when he wanted to quit last month.”

“What?” You whisper

“No no, he doesn't want to quit now, I mean after what you both decided Namjoon talked to Mr. Park and handled it..” when Yoongi doesn’t see you respond to whatever he said he realizes that you look lost.

“You don't know, do you?”

“Don't know what?” You whisper again, heart racing. Why do you feel you're not gonna like what he is gonna say?

There is a pause, a very uncomfortable pause. He visibly scans your face and inhales sharply as if deciding against or in favor of telling you about the whole situation.

You clench your pajama pants into your fists as your hand rests on your lap. The kitchen felt stuffy all of a sudden. This might seem like an overreaction but your body feels defensive all of a sudden, deciding between running away or ripping the bandaid off.

Deciding on the latter you ask,

“Yoongi, please tell me?” You request softly and at your almost inaudible request, Yoongi sighs, giving up. He shuts his eyes for a second and then looks up smiling sadly at you.

You hold your breath.

“Um, he was promoted to be the next VP of the agency, and uh..” he rubs the back of his neck looking away, avoiding the eye contact with you.

“And he rejected it?” You whisper and Yoongi nods, still not looking at you.

“The job required him to give more time into his job, more hours away from home. From you and her.” He looks at you and then points his chin in your tummy’s direction.

“So when they told him the details about the hours and the business trips, he immediately refused. Since he was the most eligible person for the job, the CEO, Mr Park..” he says,

“Mr. Park.” You say at the same time nodding.

“Yes, Mr. Park tried convincing him saying he’ll adjust according to your due date and whatever changes Kook would want to his schedule but this kid..” Yoongi chuckles shaking his head, “..rejected it, saying if he had to quit the job he would do it but he would not add onto whatever hours he was working.”

“Then suddenly..” Yoongi picks up a tangerine from the fruit bowl and starts peeling it.

“He came up with an idea of actually quitting in order to give more time to you and your child, so when Namjoon said and I quote, ‘Y/N is gonna kill you if you do that, she knows how much you worked for this’ Jungkook said that you both decided mutually that rejecting the promotion was okay and you were okay with whatever he decided about his job. Which…looking at you right now doesn't seem like it.” Yoongi looks at you with a hesitant expression, offering you the peeled fruit.

You feel your ears heat up and not out of good reason, you are actually mad at him. You were hearing all of this for the first time and you can't believe he backed off from the job he got offered after working so hard. The reason he used to work his ass off, extra time, no holidays, always punctual, not caring about his meals and whatnot, and then just fucking backed off?

"When was this?" You say gritting your teeth, eyes glistening with angry tears, eyes still on Yoongi.

You take the piece of fruit from his hand and shove it in your mouth, eyes red with tears in them.

“Y/N..”

“Why didn't he tell me? And wait a minute he said it was a mutual decision?! What the hell?”

“Y/N, he must have had a reason for saying so, he did explain the reasons and it sounded like he gave it a lot of thought. “

“Don’t you mean WE gave it a lot of thought? hah.” You say chuckling bitterly, swallowing the fruit, your hand going through your hair in frustration as you face the direction where your husband showers unaware of the angry volcano on the other side of the bathroom door.

“What the hell is wrong with him?!” You almost scream but lower your voice remembering your parents are asleep, immediately looking around warily and Yoongi does the same, with similar expressions on his face.

“Sorry, I just feel so mad right now.” You say squeezing your eyes shut, speaking through your teeth.

“I guess you should talk to him,” he says looking at you softly.

“You’re damn right I will-“ you say

“But not now, privately, okay?”

You look at him breathing heavily, cheeks wet with tears, his eyes pleading to not lose your calm immediately. You look at his anger and countless emotions swirling in your mind, nose flaring.

“Ah, okay fine.” You say throwing your hands in frustration, coming back to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

The next few minutes Yoongi tried not to talk about anything and you just swirled your spoon in the spoon Yoongi served for you. He constantly made sure you were sipping the soup, giving you water, and peeling another tangerine for you.

He almost sighed in relief when the bathroom door clicked open and Jungkook came out of the washroom. The steam rushed out of the white-tiled space along with a drippy Jungkook and a goddamned towel around his waist.

You feel madder now. Is that even a word? You don't care because that's how you feel. Madder.

Remember when you said how your emotions were on a roll these days? Yea. It was an understatement because the moment you saw your husband with that damned towel hanging low on his hips your anger turned into angry horniness, you wished, only for a second, but wished Yoongi wasn't here so that you could straddle the half-naked guy and ask him about the stupid decision he made.

Although Jungkook had immediately rushed into the room to get some clothes on him it was enough to make your ovaries light up on fire. You're mad and horny, two things that don't go well for you. Especially not in this state.

"Hey guys I am sorry, I had to wash off all that puke stench. Why didn't you guys start eating yet?"

"I don't know maybe you took very long to shower." You snap at your husband and he freezes in his tracks to get the plate.

"Y/N, I was there for only 10 mins."

“I don't know, felt like 10 years."aAt your tone Jungkook looks at you concerned and then at Yoongi who watches awkwardly, the whole scene unfolding in front of him.

"Guys you know what I think I am gonna head home, I have eaten with Jimin earlier and need sleep."

“No- yoongi eat please-“ you request feeling guilty for making him awkward.

“Yes hyung, please finish your dinner.” Jungkook says, looking at his hyung but then flicking his gaze back at you.

“No no its really okay.” Yoongi says, already walking away from the island.

"Okay, hyung." He says after a second his eyes wandering back to you observing your sour mood. Eyebrows furrowed with thought while you just chewed on the rice mixed with the curry not looking at Jungkook after waving to Yoongi.

Yoongi walks towards the doorway with slow steps, the footsteps echoing along with the tinkled spoon made inside the curry bowl. He grabs the keys and walks towards the two of you, giving you a nod and patting Jungkook’s back.

"Take care Y/N and you too, kook." He stares two seconds longer at the younger male and then nods at him. Jungkook gets up halfway to which Yoongi waves in a signal for Jungkook to not bother seeing him off.

The door clicks shut leaving you and Jungkook in silence.

"Y/N wha-"

"Eat, Jungkook."

At your stern tone, Jungkook flinches and just resumes eating in silence. Silence for almost 10 minutes. 10 slow and irritating minutes. It was like the clock ticked 10 seconds forward and then 40 seconds backward. The silence added to the awkwardness you both felt, making the time more unbearable.

Again, did you mention slow?

All the thoughts come back to your mind, every emotion holding your neck in a chokehold, everything that you’ve felt since the day started comes back. The conversation with your mom about how she asked you if you wanted to move back in with ever, you thought your mom wanted you to leave so you cried. All the emotions you felt then catching up to you.

The thoughts of being alone with him made you happy and cry at the same time in the afternoon while you finished working on the report your seniors asked you to finish before your leave started. You feel all the emotions you felt while rewatching the notebook in the evening before dinner. You feel all the emotions at once, those emotions which you felt when Jungkook called you from his car and, also when he called you from his office to check if you had your medicine.

The emotions of frustration and anger when Yoongi told you about the job offer and how your husband rejected it. The thoughts about something bad happening to your child come back and make your head dizzy. It's too much at the same time. You're happy that he is eating his food in silence because if he did say anything before you finish, you might actually run to the bathroom to vomit all of your emotions.

After minutes of frustration and anger and sadness and silence, you finally got up and almost threw the plate in the sink, Jungkook tried to get your plate but you just brushed past him huffing finally making Jungkook ask you the question you didn't want to hear and hear at the same time.

You wanted to talk to him about the whole thing and didn't at the same time. You were on an emotional rollercoaster, and Jungkook was gonna be the bird that hit the coaster blades, getting hurt.

"Y/N did I do something wrong?"

"Oh, do you do anything right these days Jungkook? I don't think so." You chuckle throwing the glass of water into the sink thankfully not breaking it.

Turning towards your husband, you immediately regret saying what you said because he just looks like a kicked puppy. Big eyes filled with gloss, nose red, and wobbly chin. His features make you feel like the worst human being on this planet.

"Y/N, I am sorry for whatever it is but can you tell me what's wrong?" He whispers looking- no, pleading with his eyes as you stand like a wall in front of him.

"You tell me, did you do anything to make me feel stupid and pathetic recently?" You say pointedly. Venom. Pure venom.

"Baby.."

"Don’t. Don't call me that." You say firmly.

"Shit- I am sorry Y/N please tell me what happened..wait-" You push yourself away from the counter instantly feeling the pain in your lower back.

“Bab- Y/N wait.” He rushes to your side holding one of your hands and one holding your waist, giving you support but somehow his touch stings, in the best way. You hate your mind and heart. You just hate it.

“No, I can walk myself I am not a toddler.” He doesn't let go of your hand even though you tell him to, he helps you walk towards your room. You try to tell him that you can walk alone but he doesn't listen instead he just hums or mutters 'I know' and it infuriates you more.

Why isn’t he saying anything? You’re literally acting like a spoiled kid right now.

Opening the door he walks you inside the room and helps you sit on the bed. As you take heavy breaths placing a hand on your chest you feel how rapidly your heart raced.

Removing the lid of the glass sitting on your nightstand, he helps you sip some of the liquid. You feel tears in your eyes and when he removes the glass from your lips he just smiles sadly at you and wipes the tears from your face with his thumb.

Leaning into his touch you say, "Why are you okay with me being like this to you?"

Okay, that's a dumb question ask Jeon Y/N, you're mad at him but just looking at him you feel like you are treating him like shit for something he doesn't deserve. Of course, he cheated on you, of course, you want to not love him because of that, and of course, your heart aches when you think of the betrayal but can you ever unlove him? Can you ever hurt him knowing you're gonna hurt him and not feel bad? Can you ever just look at him and feel nothing for him? Can you ever not love him?

Your head feels buzzed and when he speaks and your anger explodes.

"I deserve it, baby." You scrunch his t-shirt in your hand and pull him towards you, making him almost fall on you but he regains his balance by placing one of his hands on the comforter. With wide eyes, he just stares at you and the way your eyes brim with fresh tears. He tilts his head as if feeling guilty for the tears but you don't let him say anything.

"Why?" At this he looks at you confused.

The other tattooed hand finds its way on top of your wrist holding his t-shirt and you feel your sanity fly away for a second but at his confused expression, you feel your anger come back.

"Y/N what-" he sputters with big eyes

"Why did you reject the job offer?" you finally say.

Pin. Drop. Silence.

"What?" he breathes out.

"You think you can make that big of a decision by yourself? " you say sniffling.

"How did you-"

"How did I know? How about, why didn't I know?" You raise your voice slightly, and he shuts the door so that your parents don't get their sleep interrupted, tilting slightly towards the entrance, your bed not being that far from the door.

"Y/N I am sorr-" you cut him off mid sentence.

"Sorry? How many things are gonna be okay just because you apologize Jungkook?! It was your dream, you worked so hard for it.." you say feeling tears spill out of your eyes and when he just looks down at your lap with his lips twisted in a straight line guiltily, you can't help but yell at him a bit, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

You didn't realize when your hand shifted from the t-shirt's neckline to his neck. You realize that only when his eyes shut for a second at the feeling of your hands on his face, the other hand coming to sit on top of the comforter on the other side of your body. Holding onto his face you asked him the question with big teary eyes, wet cheeks, and a wobbly chin.

"Tell me, kook?"

Sighing he answers, "Baby, they wanted me to go away."

"Don't lie to me, Jungkook, please. Yoongi told me they were ready to fix the schedule according to you -"

"And you think they were gonna do that for me forever?" He asks.

"Why did you say that I agreed then? Why did you lie? Why didn't you come talk to me? Do you think I wouldn't have understood or that you think it's not important for me to know?"

"Would you have let me quit if I wanted to?" He asked instantly.

You pause. Dammit.

"You see? That's why I didn't tell you. You're already handling so many responsibilities, I didn't wanna worry you more." He says, eyes turning soft.

You look at him. Eyes looking at him trying to find dishonesty, the thing was, Jungkook doesn't lie. Even after he did what he did, he came out to you truthfully. It hurt but you're where you are because he was honest. It's the bare minimum, honesty, but its rare. At least in your experience. But not with Jungkook. He can't lie.

"They were willing to change my schedule for me only until she is born.." he says looking at your tummy and then lifting his eyes to look at you.

"..I can't risk being away from you again. It might sound like I am lying but Y/N, baby, I don't wanna be away from you even for a single second. I wanna prove myself to be worthy of a second chance. I wanna be worthy of you and her. I can’t imagine my life even for a second without you or her. You can push me all you want, you can yell at me all you want but don't tell me that I should've chosen a job and not my family. I know I don’t have an answer for why I did what.." he pauses gulps and continues.

"...I did, I myself don't know why I did it, and trust me if I could turn back the time I would. But baby..." he puts his hand on yours that is resting on his cheek waiting for a second, barely visible, but he waits for some kind of negative reaction to him touching you. When he senses none, he continues,

"...I love you, and I will love you for my whole life, I will love you and my family until I breathe. I am so sorry for fucking things up but I want to fix them, I can fix them, we will fix it. Just don't please.." he squeezes his eyes shut slightly squeezing your hand as well.

"... don't ask me to go away from you. I can't live away from you. I would quit my job if that's what it takes to be with my family, to take care of my family, to take care of you, and to take care of us. Please tell me I can be with you, can you please tell me you don’t want me to go away? Pleas- “

You tell him exactly that, but not verbally because wasn’t it ironic how he feels sorry for not knowing why he did what he did when you don't even think of any second thoughts before you do what you do, without knowing why.

Lips crashing on his, you shut him up with an answer you feel him absorbing inside him. He freezes when you kiss him, his breath stuttering when you move your lips against him. You squeeze his t-shirt in desperate need, and you feel him flutter his eyelids against your cheekbones, your tears mixing with his, and he kisses you back.

Does it last? Does your happiness last? No.

As soon as he moves his lips, you hear him sniffle and break the kiss. His eyes are still red, and his cheeks are slightly wet as well. He sniffles again, but the only sound you can hear is your heartbreaking because he moves away.

Away from the bed. Away from the comforter. Away from the kiss. Away from you.

He gets up and takes a step back, shaking his head, eyes squeezed shut. He curses under his breath as if regaining his composure while you just stare at the space where he was sitting earlier.

“I- I am sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't, I can't. I am really sorry, I shouldn't. I just shouldn't. I am sorry.”

And he leaves the room, shutting the door, not completely but leaving it slightly ajar. It's just like he does always. You hear the kitchen tap opening. He probably is doing the dishes. You hear everything from outside the door, but you feel like there's radio silence in your room.

A low beep-like sound ringing in your ears, embarrassment? Hurt? Love? Anger? Betrayal? Pain? Need? Desire? You feel so much at once, and you don't know what to do with it. This is getting so much more fucked and somehow you both find new ways to make this way tougher than anyone can imagine.

After some time, you hear the lights outside click off, and you can't help but wish he came to you. He does, but only to keep a fresh glass of water on the nightstand. He wishes you good night in a whisper, glancing once at your face and then,

...leaves.

Well, shit.

___________________________________________

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[kingofthering]

motogp riders as hockey players

This has been a long time in the making but we are finally here. Promised myself I would take care of MotoGP after doing F1 two years ago and I landed on some stuff. Probably couldn't have finished this without the help of @moonshynecybin, @vanillow and every other person who had opinions on this in my polls and ask box.

I am not known to know how to make choices. I struggled to make some of those decisions (it's a miracle they didn't all end up on the wing). Also I've kind of been in a hockey break the last couple of years so the real players comparisons weren't coming to me as easily as they did for F1, sorry.

Would love to hear your opinions (don't be mean about my choices or I will cry) (okay bye).

2024 grid

Aleix Espargaro : I rewrote this one so many times because to me Aleix could play any position but everyone sees him as a goalie and I will agree on that. Big Flower vibes except Aleix was drafted in the 5th round and arrived in the NHL and started establishing himself later. At some point his team’s captain leave and they don’t name a new one (team just has 3 or 4 As like it happens sometimes) and Aleix already had one of those As but he's nicknamed Capitán anyway. Has a rookie leaving with him pretty much every year.

Alex Marquez : Defense baby, very evident to me. He blocks a lot of shots (part of the best PK of the league and all) and always gets into fights to defend Marc.

Alex Rins : Calm, defensive d-man. Moves teams a bit but never needs long to be given an A.

Augusto Fernandez : I am sorry I know so little about Augusto this is a little bit of a struggle. We’ll do center that mostly manage the 3rd line.

Brad Binder : Also someone I struggled to pinpoint so I tried thinking about hockey players he reminded me of and the first guy that came to me was Morgan Reilly. Then I thought of guys with little brothers that are a little more feisty and brain supplied me with Quinn Hughes so that’s probably a sign to go defense.

Enea Bastianini : Top 5 pick. Winger that lost the Calder fight to Jorge Martin (did you know that they technically were born only 30 days apart because I just realized when checking their draft class). Kind of a little shit on the ice but so good at what he does. Will bitch about having to speak English at any occasion. The media adores him anyway.

Fabio Di Giannantonio : 3rd round pick that arrives in the league 3 years post draft. Feels a little scrappy to me despite the fact that he has the softest of voices in interviews. Position? Hm. Also a toss-up. I’ll go defense. PP2.

Fabio Quartararo : First round pick that everyone criticizes until he proves everyone wrong by winning the Cader the season right after the draft. Winger, very talented, almost wins the Art Ross in his second season before struggling in the last quarter. Calder Trophy winner. The comparisons to Marc go crazy that first year (Fabio is star struck the first time they're face to face on the ice, thank god they're not dealing with FOs).

Franco Morbidelli : I think he’ll forever be a little enigma to me but I want to say goalie. Makes attempts for goalie goals every now and then. Succeeds at least once.

Jack Miller : 4th liner center that would deserve to go up and down between the AHL and the NHL but alas, he’s no longer on his ELC :) Definitely talks too much (both in and out of the ice), gets into a lot of fights, doesn’t win that many of them.

Joan Mir : The one that everyone predicted would be first overall but he wasn’t (Shane Wright vibes, sorry) (I’ve seen both Slaf & Pecco with my own eyes and they indeed have a big size difference so we’ll end the comparison here). Oh, and that’s a center baby.

Johann Zarco : Genuinely can’t even imagine him on ice skates. Maybe defense.

Jorge Martin : Center. Gets drafted lower than he expected but does beat Enea to get the Calder despite a big injury in his rookie year. Lives at Aleix place when he arrives in the league, spends so much time with the kids, etc etc

Luca Marini : My instinct was defense (while being aware of my ‘taller guys go play defense’ bias) and I have seen some arguments about putting him at center. I think putting him on the offensive line puts even more pressure on him re: being Valentino’s brother and I do like d-man Luca. Can’t imagine his beautiful face marred by a puck/stick/elbow bruise (or god forbid a broken tooth) but hm, we’ll ignore that.

Marc Marquez : Speedy crafty winger. True mix of Sidney Crosby and Connor McDavid (yes they’re both centers, I know, I do not care) (if we wanna name actual wingers, Callie also said Travis Konecny and Johnny Gaudreau and I approve very much). Boy wonder that the media has been following forever. Angel face that does get into fights sometimes (Alex has to defend him so much because he’s tiny and good so obviously big guys come after him). 1st overall. Calder winner. Art Ross winner. Hart winner. You can’t really win the Stanley Cup on your rookie season when you’re first overall but he wins it early on anyway (think Sid in 2009, Kane/Toews in 2010).

Marco Bezzecchi : Winger. Connects with Pecco so well. Gets into fights and trash talks a little too much while having his mouthguard out of his mouth more often than in (think Matthew Tkachuk). Always plays it up for the camera when their photos are being taken when arriving at the arenas (and loves to have fun with some of his fits).

Maverick Viñales : Another one I could see in various positions. Definitely a first overall that had huge hopes put on his shoulders during his first years and then things faltered a little (bunch of trades, struggling to find his place within teams, etc). Fighter that went calmer with age. Since I can’t have an Aleix/Maverick d-pair, I think I’m gonna keep him at center.

Miguel Oliveira : I think solid center. Takes care of the second line. Probably has an A.

Pecco Bagnaia : Center and it’s not negociable in any world. Could be a 1st overall that disappoints a bunch of people by not getting the Calder. Very clinical play. Could see him as a two-ways forward (Anze Kopitar is coming to mind). Played college hockey with Bezz & Cele (was living with Bezz but Cele was at the house all of the time anyway, already in that first year where he was assigned to the dorms) (inspiration here being my beloved 2021-2022 UMich team).

Pedro Acosta : Winger. 1st overall. Calder trophy winner. Gets compared to Marc a lot and is so tired of it. Trash talks so much when he’s on the ice and on the bench (and in the penalty box). Was the very last rookie to live with Aleix, the last year before Aleix’s retirement. Scores a Michigan goal somewhere in his first 10 games in the NHL.

Raul Fernandez : I kind of want a brothers d-pair so I’m going to go defense for the Fernandez brothers. Arrives in the league the second year after his draft despite being drafted halfway through round 2.

Takaaki Nakagami : I can see him as a center, captain of his team at Worlds/Olympics. Has the best fits for rink arrivals (sorry Bezz).

retired riders

Valentino Rossi : So. Listen. Valentino is obviously a legend of the sport, maybe of Gretzky’s level. Obviously a 1st overall. Won the Calder. Won the Art Ross & the Hart on several occasions. Several Cups and one Conn Smythe trophy. You get the picture. Now, he’s a forward, we all know that. I posted a poll about his position and literally got a 50/50 split between center and winger. My initial gut feeling was center and then several of you gave arguments for wing and talking with Maddie led me to the changing positions at some point / playing both options (like all the guys who have double availabilities when you do fantasy hockey, real life example could be Leon Draisaitl occasionally). Anyway. I’m gonna be a little stubborn there and stay with center (although I was very delighted when my brain came with the idea of Jorge Lorenzo having to center both Vale & Marc). The intensity of those blue eyes at the dot? 70% faceoffs wins ratio ✨ Additionally, not much of a fighter (not until he bulks up please) but he definitely has a mouth on him when he’s in the mood. Very loud. He wins the best shootout goal + celly thing at the ASG at minimum 3 times in a row.

Jorge Lorenzo : Center and not taking any criticism on that one. Very good at faceoffs. Definitely challenges Valentino for his spot on the first line when he first gets in the league and yet, they connect extraordinarily well on the PP. Moves teams a bunch toward the end of his career and retire early because of an injury. 

Dani Pedrosa : First place my brain went was ‘he’s so tiny please let him go on a wing’. It also allows him to be centered by Jorge when they play together during World Juniors and they’re soooo good (despite the rivalry that obviously also exists in there, don’t worry). I will say, I could see him centering with Nicklas Backstrom vibes as well.

Andrea Dovizioso : Winger. Second rounder who wins the Memorial Cup during his juniors career (with the London Knights, because I said so). Does get into fights, especially where Marc is concerned.

Casey Stoner : Center. Valentino is very bad at faceoffs against him, it's a thing. Casey is named captain of an ASG team in like his second year being invited (Valentino is obviously captain of the other team). Starts taking the game ban over going to the ASG at some point (Ovi who). Has a concussion that takes him out for over half a season, struggles to come back and eventually retires. Also, very canonically, the biggest fisher of them all.

[evilminji]

We all know how Vlad likes to make clones of Danny and then get rid of them when they don't work out I'm just imagining a entire crack filled idea Ra is one of those clones I just got accidentally into a dimension.

Ra got thrown all the way back in time in a different dimension and is incredibly pissed at Vlad for creating him and worried about Danny if Vlad making more clones like Ra

Out of spite not only does Ra come immortal and try to do glad when it comes to doing shady things to make Danny proud aka the best mother of all times he's also trying to make the world a better place he got the weird balance of Danny along with Vlad obsessions. 100 years into making the colt and being alive Danny finds out about Ross existence as the ghost King and decides you know what I support all my children as a mother even when they are starting coats or planning world domination, and destruction. In the straight up tells Ra don't kill too many people you make mom's job harder and anytime you need something call me I'm proud of you for at least waiting to make the world a better place. Like on the scale of good and bad Danny placed him right in the middle Ellie wants to be a hero and a traveler so if she's in the top when it comes to the good skeleton in the middle scale is Ra cuz does he own a cult yes but he also wants to make a world a better place, and Dan is at dead last for just wanting destruction sometimes but he's working on it he does clay art now.

Ra also inherited Danny's ability to make things chaotic without even trying. I just see Rose dropping to Talia and Damien sometimes while your great/grandmother was country but other than I don't think we have any more races mixed with us.

Or he just drops I'm not laying tally I have the sleeping normally my mother was 14 when he had my siblings in me and mother described it as going to do with excruciating hell.

Talia has been tired argument with Ra after he accidentally just straight up says well great grandfather was grandmother's uncle he did go to school with mother's parents and was best friends with mother's father.

Tim is so confused and all he wants his answers in the background .

I can just see Ra comparing Damien's fearless his old mother's fear illness he will mention of nowhere mother fist fought father when they first met or mother can break a wall with a single hit of their head.

Talia is going to be so confused when they find out that only is mother a crazy batshit person he's also the ghost King.

Talia staring at Grandma who is the ghost King: father did you not think this was important to tell me sooner.

Ra: I have mentioned this before in one of my conversations about mother you just weren't listening Talia.

Danny in the background frelingover his kid and his grandchildren along with great grandchild.

Ra full name is Ra Al Ghul 'Dirgham' Fenton Master

Danny says they had to keep with the cycle of the names no matter where they are in the name.

(This is also my secret chance to finally Vlad Masters as Arabic you can pray that out of my cold dead hands Danny American-born Chinese who who has a very strong country accident because of his father)

Any who don't have to write this I just hope you had a good laugh form my stupid writing I really do love your work hope you have a fun time reading this ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／

Not stupid! I got my first Ficlette! :D this is amazing and thank you! I did enjoy it!

[httpvomitello]

Hello~! I live your writing. Can I request a one shot with an older Leo x F!Reader (I was thinking bayverse but any era could fit) inspired by the ross and Rachel scene from friends where reader gets drunk and confesses to Leo through voicemail?

Hello, hello! I think I forgot to mention that the turtles and the reader are age-up. So, no need to worry! I hope you like it ♡♡♡♡

The lair was dark, save for the faint blue glow of the aquarium in Donnie’s lab. The day had been long, and Leo was exhausted, but as leader, his mind never fully rested. He paced around the dojo, replaying the events of the last few days, thinking about patrols, missions, his brothers, and you.

You had been a constant in his life for years now. Your friendship with the turtles, especially with him, had grown stronger over time, to the point where he couldn’t imagine a world without you in it. But lately, Leo had found himself thinking about you more than just a friend. It was driving him crazy, the way his heart sped up when you were near, or how he caught himself smiling like a fool when you laughed. But he couldn’t act on it... shouldn’t act on it.

After all, he wasn’t exactly a normal guy. He wasn’t even human. And you? You were beautiful, brilliant, and entirely out of his reach.

His thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of his phone. He rarely used it, but it was a direct line for you and his brothers to reach him when needed. Pulling it from his belt, he saw your name flash on the screen. It was well past midnight.

Frowning, Leo answered. “(Y/N)? Everything okay?”

No answer, just a loud beep indicating he had a voicemail. He hadn’t even heard the phone ring. Maybe it was a mistake?

Confused, he dialed into his voicemail, listening as it started to play.

“Uh... hey, Leo. It’s me. (Y/N).”

Your voice sounded off, a little slurred, and Leo’s heart clenched. You were drunk. That in itself wasn’t alarming, but you didn’t usually drink like this unless something was bothering you.

“I don’t even know if you’re gonna listen to this, but I... I just... I need to say this. Or maybe I don’t. I don’t know. But, here I am!”

Leo chuckled despite himself, sitting down on one of the mats, already feeling anxious about where this was going.

“Okay, okay, so here’s the thing. I’ve liked you for soooo fucking long, Leo. Like, really liked you. And I know it’s stupid. I know you’re... you’re a fucking sexy turtle and I’m... well, I’m me. But every time I see you, I get these butterflies, and I think, ‘Why can’t I just be normal and tell him?’ But I never do because... because I’m scared.”

Leo froze, his heart hammering in his chest. He could hear your soft hiccups through the message, and it tore him apart.

“I’m scared you’ll think I’m dumb, or that you won’t feel the same way. And I can’t lose you, Leo. You’re my best friend. But God, I just... I need you to know that I think about you all the time. When we hang out, when we’re at the rooftop watching the stars, when we’re just... talking. You make me feel safe, and I don’t even know how to deal with that.”

You paused, and Leo could hear the faint clinking of a glass being set down on what he assumed was a table.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. It’s probably the alcohol. Stupid liquid courage. I mean, you’re probably never even gonna hear this. Maybe I’ll delete it in the morning or something...”

There was a soft laugh, tinged with sadness. “But in case you do hear it... I’m in love with you, Leo. I’ve been in love with you for a long time. And it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way. Really. But I just... I needed to say it.”

Another pause, longer this time, and then: “Okay. Uh, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night. Goodnight, bab... Leo!”

The message ended with a click, leaving Leo sitting in stunned silence, your words replaying over and over in his mind.

In love with him?

His heart raced as the reality sank in. You were in love with him, and you’d been carrying this weight alone, scared of ruining your friendship. The same fear he had been wrestling with for months.

Suddenly, Leo felt an overwhelming need to see you, to tell you that he felt the same, that you weren’t alone in this. But he hesitated. You were drunk, and it wouldn’t be right to have that conversation when you weren’t fully yourself. You deserved better than that.

For now, all he could do was wait until morning.

The next day came far too slowly for Leo’s liking. He kept himself busy training, hoping to distract himself from the growing tension inside him. His brothers noticed his quiet demeanor, but they didn’t press him for answers.

Around noon, his phone buzzed again. It was you.

He stared at your name for a long moment, anxiety creeping in. Were you calling to apologize for the voicemail? Pretend it didn’t happen? What if you had already deleted it, thinking he hadn’t heard it? There was no way he was going to let you brush it off like that.

With a deep breath, he answered. “Hey, (Y/N).”

“Leo.” Your voice sounded... off. Less cheery than usual. “So, uh... did you get my voicemail?”

There it was.

Leo swallowed. “Yeah. I did.”

“Oh God,” you muttered, clearly embarrassed. “I was really drunk, and I just—I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t.” His voice came out sharper than he intended. “Don’t apologize.”

You fell silent on the other end, and Leo took the opportunity to speak before he lost his nerve.

“I’m glad you told me. I wish you hadn’t been drunk when you did, but I’m glad you were honest with me.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Leo, I—”

“I need you to know something,” he cut you off gently. “I’ve been feeling the same way. For a long time.”

“What?”

“I’ve been in love with you too, (Y/N).” The words came out quietly, but they carried so much weight. “I’ve just... never known how to tell you.”

There was a beat of stunned silence, and Leo could almost hear the gears turning in your head as you processed his words.

“You... love me?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I do.”

“I thought you... I mean, you never gave any signs...”

Leo laughed softly. “Trust me, I’ve tried to hide it. I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

You let out a breathy laugh, clearly in disbelief. “Oh my God. I thought I was the only one.”

“You weren’t,” Leo said, his voice softening. “But I didn’t want to put that pressure on you. I didn’t think it was fair. But now that it’s out in the open... I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

“What do we do now?” you asked, your voice uncertain but filled with hope.

“I guess... we take it one step at a time,” Leo said. “No more hiding. No more pretending.”

You were quiet for a moment before you finally spoke. “I can do that. I want to do that.”

Leo smiled, relief flooding through him. “Then it’s a start.”

It wasn’t going to be easy, nothing about his life ever was, but for the first time in a long while, Leo felt like he was heading in the right direction.

[noacfapologyst]

night love confessions — matty healy

summary: after a night party, matty has the idea (or the need) to confess his love to you.

warnings: some kind of mention about get drunk, alcohol, drugs and substances (but nothing very explicit) nocturnal melancholy, sad atmosphere and some mentions of touches.

wordcounter: 3,4k

a/n: hey everybody! this is my first au and even i'm scary i really hope you enjoy and like the story, maybe then could put this into a general universe, but idk, it depends i think if it works and if the people like it. anyway, thanks for giving the chance to read it. last thing, english is not my first language so if something it's bad i apologize for that too.

hope you enjoy it ���

The bottles that are opened, the containers that fall to the ground, the footsteps of shoes, the music that resonates through the speakers and deafens your ears.

The group of guys you're looking at, the smile one of them gives you at the end of the track. The adrenaline when listening to the band's new song composed by your friends, the lights that make you lose, you feel everything in slow motion.

You drum your fingers on the red disposable cup, before pouring the harsh liquid down your throat and feeling the traces of the rest on your tongue. There is a silence on you, but then you return to the ring with a small scream of happiness, which perhaps multiplies the state you are by a third.

You don't know how many glasses you've had, enough so that your sobriety is hanging by a thread and the hangover of the morning with your head exploding is too evident, but you know that this time nothing else has been mixed. Last time the story didn't end too well, jumping over security fences outside an abandoned club to end up with a sprained right foot and several bruises is not something you want to repeat two weeks later.

— Does anyone know where the hell Matty has gone? — George exasperates, raising his voice over the speakers. Everyone looks at each other confused, without having a clear answer. — God, this guy is going to give me a bad headache one day. —Although he is drunk and has red eyes, he is at his most sane. — You are surprised and turn your expression into an "o".

— He was here a few moments ago, I swear. — Ross responds a while later, moving up to follow him into the crowd.

You sigh a little tired, lately it has become the same routine and with regret inside you decide that you should abandon the staring contest with the black-haired man who is a few meters in front of you.

— I'll bring him back in a moment, let me take care of this. — You pronounce with difficulty, slurring the words and pouting.

— Well, if you can't find us we're probably outside. — Brown hair appears behind George, and even though you know you know the girl, you don't remember her name. You just know that from time to time she and your friend go to some bars .

— She's right. I need to sleep right now. —Ross exclaims, running the fold of her fingers over the sockets of his eyes. — Find him and then we'll leave.

You know Matty well enough to know that when he separates from the group, there are three places he can be doing: 1) In the outside or inside courtyard smoking some kind of cigarette, it's always a different edition so you don't know what you'll find. 2) In the nearest bathroom, with a card in hand and light white tints under the nose and nails. 3) Flirt with the first person you meet at the bar, spending the little money on drinks that will later be deposited on his bed.

— And if you don't find it, what? —Adam asks, in a tone of total concern.

— I will do it, I promise.

— Just... let us know when you get home, girl. —George closes the conversation and everyone else nods at his request, shakes their heads in response and greets them with a "yes, goodbye" in the air.

You hate a little, a lot, the rock superstar life that your entire band has led, it has been like this for years, but especially since they managed to make their first album become famous so quickly, and have devastated the sales stands and the lists have them in their heads. In fact, while you're debating where to start looking for it, Girls starts playing through the speakers. Great, the world makes fun of you with good satire.

It doesn't matter that you don't have clarity to think, your body moves for you and makes its way through quite a few people, until you touch a wall that has two exits: the bathroom and the courtyard. You breathe and try to lower your level to one less, until your instinct kicks in and you know you'll find Matty smoking.

Then you go out to the inner courtyard with the frost freezing your back. Adam was right, you needed your jacket that you left at his house a few hours earlier. The wind makes your eyes turn to glass in a sense, but you don't plan on giving up when you know you're committed to finding and bringing it home in the best condition possible.

You find it almost at the end of the place, away from the main entrances, which catches your attention. He has his leather jacket over his knees, which leaves his arms unprotected despite how thin they are. He's frowning, and when you get closer you see that he's exhaling and inhaling with a thoughtful expression, there's something troubling him even though you can't figure it out.

You reach his side of him and look for a small place to sit, he still has n't realized that someone else is with him, he's still absorbed.

— No girl today? What a loser. — You wake him up and make him jump in his place. — The boys are gone.

— Shit, girl. You really scared me.— He puts his hand on his chest, exactly on his heart. He gives you a half-shot of his eyes, they're freshly red, and you grimace silently. — She's gone too.

— Who? — You cross your legs, and your fishnet stockings catch on a tile out of place. — Shit, they were new. — You moan and realize that you are freezing.

— Luckily for you, buying another one is not difficult. —Now you are the one who frowns while exhaling a considerable amount of smoke.

— Are you okay, Matty? — You don't know why you use his name, but sometimes it helps to bring him back to reality. You look at him when he shakes his head and laughs sarcastically, his curls are out of control and half of them are hanging over his forehead, but he has not bothered to fix them, his white t-shirt he has small red wine stains on it. You can't help but worry about him even if you don't know what you're really into, he's one of the people you love the most and seeing him so subdued burns you more than the glass you drank ten minutes ago. He starts to close his eyes and breathe easier, or so you think. — Hey, I'll take you home, come on.

— Honey, look at me. It's a fucking party and I'm smoking alone. — Speak in the deepest voice, seriously about the subject. Well, that hurts. — Come here. — He hits the jacket that falls on her knees so that you can rest your head there.

He knows that you will not refuse, perhaps because the jacket will keep you warm, because you are tired or because you are very busy and worried. About him you will do everything he asks. Then he drops his head there and slowly rests his legs on the pavement.

Matty's head is about to explode, and not necessarily because of the amount of cocaine he has consumed, although a significant part of it is a factor. He's grateful to have his head against the wall, although he doesn't remember how he got to that position. because he knows that otherwise he would do anything that would ruin the whole environment, no matter how small and silly it was. Lately he's screwed up more things than he's done right, but maybe this is what he longs for most in his life, that when all this terror and this endless nightmare is over (he's more convinced that it won't) you'll still be there, close to him, to support his head or lean on him.

Silence becomes your best friend over and over again. All he wants to do now is cross his hands below your waist and hold you for as long as he is allowed. But he doesn't, his hands are dirty and he couldn't afford to dirty his girl like that, he feels in the depths of his being that if he touched you even a millimeter he would ruin you to the core.

Basically the same feeling he had about himself several weeks ago, he couldn't take the responsibility of taking away all of your shine and everything that characterizes you as his favorite person. He is drugged and drunk, perhaps more than ever, but in this same hazy state he has discovered that perhaps the reason why he continues doing things without stopping is because it is a barrier to his feelings, it inhibits him from being able to think rationally and from being able to feel, It makes him believe that everything is possible, except being able to have you.

You remain motionless on his lap when you begin to close your eyes and he takes the opportunity to look at you, giving himself every detail, capturing the scene forever in his memory: look at how your locks fall on your forehead, how your chest rises and falls every time you you breathe, and the subtle smile on your lips that is the product of drunkenness that also causes a satirical laugh and then dies in its own tranquility. He also notices when you open your eyes, noticing his determined look and you raise an eyebrow in question.

— I need to die, now. Can we go now? — You whisper, also struggling to hold the moment for as many minutes as possible.

— One more and we'll leave, love. — The nickname causes a cerebral shock throughout your cortex, but you hide it with the freezing air that runs through there and you pass him the lighter that has fallen on the floor.— I'll wake you up... maybe in seven minutes? I can't count. — The two laugh and for a second they hold each other's gaze, shining and reflecting on each other.

— Promise? — You ask, and you raise your little finger.

— Promise. — He intertwines them and it's convincing enough for you that you soon go back to sleep, leaving your hand outstretched. Matty has no intention of breaking that contact, so he takes it upon himself to enjoy the seven minutes like this, usually blowing out some hair that obstructs her view of him.

When he is halfway through the fateful cigarette, he lets out the longest snort of the day. He feels the same as he did in Robbers' video. No, it's nonsense. That song was never written for you, but maybe he's relating it to others.

Oh, but it's automatic, the scene where he's on her lap in timeout, the thought that he could never let you go even if they were apart, everything he's begged for you to stay and all the times you haven't. was able to turn back. All those times when he was the cause of your suffering, when you ended up in the hospital due to his failure, when he wasn't there the day your father left, and how later you said he was fine and that it didn't matter.

Maybe you'd actually sum it up to something like I love you, don't you mind? Because nothing could happen above that, you loved Matty as if he were your other half and even if he meant suffering more than anything else, you accepted it because you preferred to have him than not. But you knew that those opportunities were nil, nothing more would happen with him and the almost kiss a few weeks ago had made it clear.

On the other hand, Matty had started to cry. The taste of the tobacco was now a mixture of salt water and nicotine.

— Time to leave. — He says it slowly, extinguishing the remains against the cement and drying the trace of his face.

They both get back together after a while with some effort. Then you extend your hand to him so you don't lose him in the crowd when you have to cross it. It takes some effort, but you manage to breathe in the fresh air and see the light from the post outside faster than you thought.

—Can I sleep at your house today? My house is...complicated. — The hands of you two let go as both begin to walk along the brick pavement of Manchester. There's a small ringing in your ears but you nod, he's not in the state to show up at his house.

— Yes. — Your direct word calm him to the point that he adopts a calm that does not allow him to see a loose cable in the street and trip over it. — You can't walk, at least not like this. — You say, reaching out to him with concern. — Here we go, big boy.

You grip his wrist tighter, trying to provide some stability, until he changes his grip and runs his hand around your waist, wrapping it around it and pulling you as close to him as he can, seeking to get you inside of him. When he moves his fingers he notices the temperature of your skin.

— You're cold, put on my jacket, please. — He brakes and looks at you defiantly, without losing that tone of chivalry.

— It's okay, we're close to my house. — You comment without paying attention to his frown. Then you see the light about to be left at the beginning of the block and break your hold under his watchful eye.

You run, always holding on to him until the central point of the park that you are crossing. Since you have his hand in yours, you spin him around a few times while neither of you can stop laughing.

They both feel like they are floating regardless of any other part of the world or any other matter. If they both touched their hearts they would discover that it is stronger than ever.

He caresses your cheek and takes the opportunity to smudge an eyelash. Then they melt into an embrace completely overflowing with desperation, love, affection, and the need to freeze there forever. Eternity in this line sounds incredible.

— I'm very glad to have you. — You murmur in his ear, and then you give his a kiss on the cheek. You don't need and don't want him to answer, so you decide to run to the door of your house and wait for him there.

Tomorrow he won't remember this, so it's okay, you tell yourself.

Tomorrow he'll remember every part of this, living it second by second, then it will all come flooding back to Matty breaking him deeply.

Then he arrives at your front door and between some silly jokes and some tripping objects, like your brother's toys or some discarded slippers, you make it to your room, although you need to use your supporting weight to carry Matty inside.

— I'll bring a glass of water and a hangover pill. — You tell him and disappear from your own room.

You go down the stairs and it seems that you also go down to reality.

What the fuck are you doing? What has happened and why hasn't you stopped sooner? You put your hand to your head in frustration and drink water, then fill another glass and look for the pills. Tomorrow you will not only have discomfort from the drink.

You return to the bedroom, opening and closing the door carefully. The scene petrifies you, he is sitting on the white back of your bed, taking up as much space as he can. Then he looks at you, and smiles at you as if he were a child who had just been caught being mischievous. You feel like you could die of lovey-dovey right now.

— I'm going to the bathroom to put on my pajamas. — You open the closet and take out the largest T-shirt you can find, then the pijamas that are clean. — Use this. — You stretch out your arm and he catches the shirt along with a pair of shorts, internally you wish he would finish before you leave the bathroom.

Being used to the routine, taking off your clothes and removing your makeup doesn't take you more than five minutes, just enough for him to scan every corner of the room after changing with quite some effort. He smiles when he sees the box full of Polaroids of you and the entire band, and then feels like he's dying a little more when he sees the self titled car at the head of your furniture.

You open the bathroom door and he needs to swallow hard to keep from stumbling. Even in your pink heart pijamas you look just as spectacular as you do in your black miniskirt and boots.

—You seem very....funny— You scan it and you laugh when you see how short the clothes you gave him are. Then you realize that the mattress is not here, but you don't want to go out and look for another one. —Does it bother you if we sleep together? —It's nothing you haven't done, but it still requires a certain degree of difficulty to ask.

He denies sweetly and moves away as far as he can when you get on your bed, there is an unbearable barrier between the two of you.

So, he lets it out. Something internally takes over him.

— You are my favorite person in the whole world, my love. — He try to whisper it because you force yourself to believe that he thinks you're sleeping. He doesn't manage to whisper it anyway, and you hear his voice begin to crack and his heart begin to pour out. Your greatest fear comes to light when the way he speaks condemns it, you've seen too many movies to know what's coming.

No. He can't do this to you, you can't bear that tomorrow he will forget about this entire night and you must pretend that for a moment it makes sense that he also loves you the same way you do. You want to believe that he dreams of you too.

— Don't do it, Matty. Please do not do it. — You say to him with all your strength, while a swirl of water begins to grow in the sockets of your eyes. —Just... don't.

— Why? — He whimpers and staggers in his speech, he's taking it all on herself not to show you that he's breaking into miles of pieces.

— Because you're high, very high. Tomorrow you won't remember anything about this night and you won't be able to pretend this never happened. — You turn slowly, and then you wipe away the first tear that runs on his eyelid. — I really wish things could be different and that you would make this confession when you're not high.

For a moment he stops talking and you think you've won the battle and that there is a temperance that calms the threat. But he falls apart.

— I love you. I've always loved you and I can't stand another damn minute without telling you. — Tears simply fall down both of their cheeks and soak the pillowcases. You shake your head non-stop in a negative way.

He can't just let go now, at the moment when you're most emotionally vulnerable, so that tomorrow he can go off with the first girl he finds. In the long run it has always been like this, he gets over it and you are still there with a broken heart and forever devoted to him.

—Go to sleep, Matty. — Your request breaks him a little more, the tone destroys him although it is not very strong. — Do not make it harder.

He shifts uneasily, but he also understands that he can't force you to feel the same way. What he doesn't know is that if he just said he wouldn't leave tomorrow, you would run into his arms.

But he doesn't do it, nor does he close his eyes to fall asleep. He's there, watching your every move still. You sigh, unable to bear it anymore, maybe tomorrow you will suffer from it but maybe if you let go now it will be easier to overcome.

— I love you too. The same way you do it. — You kiss his head one last time and murmur one last goodbye before turning to sleep. — And it's been an ordeal for me all this time, because you feel it more when you're high and I feel it more when I'm sober.

Apparently your brain works fast and allows you to fall into some dream where this whole story is happier before reality can attack you.

And that's how they finally fall asleep, the both with their hearts in each other's palms, with more scars than before.

Finally, everything gets comically better when you wake up a few hours later and there's no sign of Matty in your entire room.

Just make out that the glass of water is empty and the pill is not there. You laugh sadly before going to sleep without letting yourself cry again, he doesn't remember anything from the night before.

i won't apologize for this. however, thanks for reading <3 let me know what you thought or if you liked it.

Etiquetas: @cxcx75

[ilyasorokinn]

(day one) secret santa , ross macdonald

note, thank you to @abiiors for putting this together! i'm so excited! also, i've decided to write only for ross this month because i'm in a ross mood. also, i must give you all my sincerest apologies. i am deathly sick right now, so this is short and it's kind of bad and a little cringy because my brain is mush right now. please enjoy lol <3so this might suck. pair, ross macdonald x reader summary, when ross pulls y/n's name for secret santa, he wracks his brain on what to get her, until he remembers the one thing she talks about. warnings, none word count, 504 words

(picture found on pinterest)

The moment Ross picked your name from the bowl, he knew exactly what he wanted to get you. He left the restaurant where you all had gathered for the name picking, he was on the phone, discussing with a seller in America.

There was a candy you loved and talked about all the time but it was an American candy. Tour had been on hold so none of the boys could get it for you and it cost an arm and a leg to get it shipped to you so you settled without it.

It took a few weeks for the package to make it across the ocean but when it finally arrived, Ross couldn't help but feel giddy imagining your reaction to the gift. He could picture it in his mind so clearly.

The sparkle in your eyes so similar to the glimmer of diamonds. The smile on your face so bright it would be the stars in the sky to shame.

A few weeks after the initial name-picking party, everyone gathered together again, just before Christmas, to exchange gifts. Matty went first, giving his gift over to Adam, who went next, giving his gift to Polly, and so on and so forth.

After Ross received his gift from Carly, it was his turn to give his gift. He couldn't help but feel nervous. He knew you would love it, but there was still that nervous pit in his stomach.

He walked right up to you, smiling at the confused look on your face, "Merry Christmas, love." He took a step back and watched you carefully tear the wrapping paper apart.

"Holy..." You breathed out when you saw what was inside the giant box. Everyone around you was looking at you confused, so in response, you tipped the box over, dumping out the copious amounts of candy bars that were inside of the box.

"Ross MacDonald, you big softie." George teased. Ross took it all with a proud smile as he watched you dig into one of the bars, the happiest look on your face.

After the party, Ross helped you carry the giant box of candy out to your car, setting it on the passenger side. You turned to him and smiled, "Thanks for this, really. I appreciate this more than you know. I practically have a lifetime supply."

"Knowing you, this'll last maybe two months." He teased, chuckling when you rolled your eyes.

"Well, most people don't listen to me when I talk, so it's nice to know someone still does."

"I always do." He stated.

"I know." You smiled up at him. You leaned up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He nodded, walking around to the driver's side and opening the door for you then shutting it when you're inside. He waved to you and watched you drive away. Once you were finally out of the sight, he smiled to himself as he made his way over to his own car.

-

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[whimsicalpolitical]

Shattered // Matty Healy x Reader

summery: you caught Matty doing the one thing you would’ve never expected him to do. Now you confront him, drunk

warnings: angst

Masterlist

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You are out with your friends in your favorite bar and all you want to do is forget about Matty. Forget about the past 4 years where you’ve been seemingly happy and thinking about how you will marry him some day. Forget about how you were tangled in bed, whispering promises to each other that you will marry some day.

Forget about how you caught him getting his dick sucked by a blonde chick and forget about the way he lied to you and broke his promises that meant everything.

“I don’t wanna talk about it tonight alright? Let’s just have fun,” you explained, raising your glass into the air and toasting to a banger night with your two best friends.

“Fuck him girl,” Lea said, nudging your shoulder slightly. You’ve known her since kindergarten and she knows everything about you. Therefore she knows the ups and downs of your relationship with Matty. But she also knows how much you love him and she always said that he’s whipped for you.

Doesn’t seem like he’s whipped for you now.

You are a few shots down, your friend already dancing on a table top, trying to pick up a guy that has been watching her for the last 20 minutes. You on the other hand don’t leave the bar stool, you keep sitting and keep drinking.

The bar door opens and your eyes drop to two tall men you are very familiar with. Ross and George. Their gaze finds yours and you quickly look away, taking a sip of your cocktail. You feel them coming towards you.

You hear your name but you don’t turn around. Ross sits down on the stool next to yours. “You ok?” He asks and you gulp. Your sight gets worse by the second, the drink in front of you starting to blur, your boyfriend of 4 years cheated and you have no place to stay in. You are not okay.

“Yeah,” you ex the cocktail and stand up, not even daring to look at them. They share a look and George finds your arm to steady you, after you almost fell down the little step.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hiss and push his arm away from you. You walk towards the door, Lea and Maya not realizing that you’re about to leave on your own.

“C’mon,” George says, almost shouting your name at your attend to get away, “you’re not safe to go on your own.”

You laugh, “like you care,” you shout, already out the door. You pull a cigarette and a lighter out of your purse. “We do.” Ross says, his eyes full of pitty.

“Yeah? You care?” Sounds too ironic for you, “didn’t care enough to tell me your mate was cheating on me did you.” You let your back find the brick wall and you slide down.

-

It’s almost the end of tour and you are so relieved, you finally get to spend enough time with your boyfriend.

You couldn’t go to the boys immediately after the concert because you had an important business phone call. But now you’re on your way backstage. There are people cleaning up and packing up the things but you can’t find any of the boys.

You move to Mattys’ dressing room when you hear him. “Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. Your first instinct was that he was hurt, reminding you of all the times he hurt himself on stage, unintentionally.

You speed up your movements, opening the door quickly, “Matt are you-.” You are immediately in shock when you see the scene in front of you. Your boyfriend’s head leaning back, mouth open, his hair completely in a mess. A blonde woman on her knees, her mouth around his dick.

Matty’s head shoots up and he pulls her off him in one movement. “Oh my god,” he says your name but you’re already turning around, starting to run at the complete other direction. You just want to get out. “Fuck, get off me!” You hear him yelling but you don’t care because he didn’t seem to mind to have her on him minutes ago. The tears are blurring your sight and you can’t even wipe them properly without them flowing again.

“Wait.” He screams at you but you’re already out and away.

-

That was the last time you saw Matty and the last time you spoke to any of them. Everyone tried calling you but you didn’t want to fuck with any of them. They betrayed you. All of them.

“We didn’t know,” George said, squatting next to you, “he’s a fucking dickhead but he’s sorry.”

You clap your hands, “oh he’s sorry, that’s fucking amazing. He cheats on me but he’s sorry so that makes it okay!” You inhale the smoke so hard, believing that if it hits your lungs you can finally forget.

“He made a mistake, listen to him at least? He’s fucking miserable.” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. They don’t have the right to come at you and tell you how shit he is, because it doesn’t come near as how you are feeling.

You look up at Ross through your teary eyes. He pulls his lips together, letting them form a straight line. You reach your arm out, waiting for him to pull you up. He does and you fall against him. He grips your waist and steadies you.

“Kiss me,” you mutter. Ross shoots George a confused look, they don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t either, you just know you want revenge.

“Come on Ross, kiss me.” You let your hands find his face, tracing your fingers through his beard. “Make me forget.” Your eyes drop to his lips and you come closer but Ross turns his head to the right.

“You’re drunk and hurt,” he says and puts an arm around you. George finds Ross’ eyes and he also puts an arm around you. “You would regret it in the morning and it wouldn’t make anything better.”

You didn’t need that turning down, you need to feel better and you really want to hurt Matty. “Take me to him,” your bottom lip trembles as you talk.

“Are you sure? Don’t do-“ you cut George off.

“M’sure.” You say. Both of them lift you in the backseat of George’s’ car. Ross gets next to you while George drives off to Matty’s house.

When you arrive you at his house you threaten Ross and George to drive off and not stay. “Okay, call one of us if you need us to drive you home?” You nod and stumble out of the car.

You don’t have a home but you don’t let them know because you don’t want to have that talk. Not tonight.

You arrive at the concrete walls and the door. You start hammering against it, without any idea of what to say.

“Jesus-“ Matty shoots up from the couch. He fell asleep there and he doesn’t know the time. He’s wearing black boxers and nothing else but he doesn’t care.

When he opens the door he meets your facade. Your make up smeared from crying. Hair a mess. And your lips trembling. For a second he doubts if you’re real, but then your hands are on his chest, shoving him inside his home.

“Shit, I missed you so much.” He says but then he sees it when you turn around. The bloodshot look in your eyes, the sweat to your brow. He can smell it, the alcohol mixed with your natural aroma. He nearly thinks he forgot about it but now you’re here and he remembers everything.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck. You.” You hit his shoulder everytime you repeat the phrase. His face is uncomfortable and you’re aware you’re hurting him.

“You’re fucking wasted.” He says and he feels bad because he knows he’s the reason. Before you can hit him again he holds your wrists, “cut it out.”

You are looking up at him fiercely, and he hates how much he sees the hurt. The trembling lip is not making things any easier and the tears slipping down your cheeks are a danger to his own.

“She meant nothing, I’m so sorry baby, please. I was fucking exhausted and you weren’t there and she was throwing herself at me. She meant nothing.” He repeats but you don’t listen, you just see the pictures in your head.

“Bullshit,” you slur and back up from him. Your eyes are pure disgust and he sees that. He is looking at you, pleading at you to forgive him. “You loved having her on her knees, you want that from me? Huh you want that.”

You start striping, leaving your shirt on his kitchen counter. “You want me to suck your dick like she did it? Was she better, ‘s that it?” You move over to him, hands finding the waistband of his boxers. Again, his hands find yours and before you drop to your knees he holds you up.

“Baby stop,” he pleads and now you are a real sad drunk. Sad drunk is the worst drunk. “You’re too drunk to have this conversation.” You drop down to the floor, hugging your knees.

“Why M- Matty. I loved you so much.” Your voice breaks and now a tear slips from Matty’s cheek as well. “Why wasn’t it enough? I loved you so much and you ruined everything.”

He drops next to you but he keeps his hands to himself, unsure if you’re comfortable enough to let him touch you. “I’m so sorry, fuck, I’m an idiot okay? I love you so much okay?”

You look at him and you know he feels sorry it’s just not enough. He shouldn’t have done it because now you can’t look at him the same anymore.

“I love you and I was afraid.” You turn your head away from him because you are scared that if you look at him long enough you will just forgive him.

“God. I would never do it again.” You can’t listen to this anymore but you need him. You need him in your life and you’re weak.

“I love you so much baby.” He says again and you take his hand. You take his hand and hold it. He pulls you up, his hands under your arms and he holds you tight against his chest.

He’s warm and he’s always warm. His heat radiating off of you ever time you are close to him. He puts one arm around your shoulders, not letting you go while the other rubs your back. His mouth is near your ear and he whispers stupid excuses in your ear.

“I’m so sorry okay? Please don’t leave me.” You sob into his chest, unsure of what to do.

“Was she the only time?” If he says yes now you swear you will give him a chance again. He’s gonna fucking say yes and you can start over.

“What?” He says and you pull back, to look him in the eyes. You can tell by his eyes if he’s gonna lie. Your right hand finds his cheek and you rub slow circles into his skin.

“Was she the first or were there others?” His eyes close and this is the moment you know that you don’t have a chance in your relationship. Now you’re disgusted and you immediately remove yourself from him.

You grab your shirt from the kitchen counter and pull it over your head. “Baby I’m so sorry I. Shit!” He hits a bottle from the table and you flinch.

“Have a fucking good life Matthew.” He grabs your arm but you smash away. You slap him across the face, open the door and leave his home for good.

This is it. The past years were a fucking lie. You grab your phone and you do call Ross. He answers immediately and he just hears your cries. He declines and gets in his car right away.

[kararisa]

marigold promises

— 31. "just" the lab report [☕︎ = 0.4k words]

As the hours tick by and the sun dips below the horizon, you find yourself still nestled on the worn couch in the cramped living room, poring over your textbooks. It's hardly an ideal study environment — the constant bickering between the seven-year-old you're babysitting and the sibling she likes to annoy hardly contributes to your concentration. Yet you stay anyway, driven by an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. You crave answers like a desert craves rain, and you won't rest until you've found them.

After all, it would be nice to see Rhinedottir again after all these years, wouldn’t it?

More time passes; the night sky unfurls. The clock marks the time 5:58 p.m., and a comfortable silence settles between the three of you. You and Albedo finally complete your lab report while Klee hunches over her worksheets, studying for an upcoming quiz.

“It’s getting pretty late, Cupcake,” Albedo starts. “Do you want to go ahead and head back to campus?”

You wave off his concern. “Curfew isn’t until a couple of hours from now. I can wait.”

The room falls silent again as you all return to your tasks. The only sounds are the scratch of Klee's pencil on paper and the faint hum of the AC. The stillness of the moment is interrupted only by the occasional rustle of pages or the tapping of keys on a keyboard. You feel a sense of calm wash over you, grateful for the respite from the chaos of the day.

You wish you could stay wrapped in this tranquility, even for just a moment longer.

But at last, the sound of the door unlocking rewards your hours of patience. Now that the moment is actually here, though, you find yourself frozen in place, all the words you’ve prepared escaping you.

Rhinedottir has always been strict with Albedo. She had never truly approved of your friendship with him, claiming that associating themselves with a competitor would only serve as a source of distraction.

That’s definitely one thing she has in common with your mother.

“Mom!” Klee gasps and runs to the door, laughing as she’s snatched into an embrace.

Their mother laughs in turn, “Klee, Albedo. How have you two been? Not too bored without me I hope.”

You recognize that voice. And it’s not the voice you expected to hear.

“Mhm! Albedo brought someone here and they’re super nice.” Klee rambles on about everything you did as she and her mother make their way into the living room.

You finally get a look at her.

"[Name]?" Alice greets, her look of surprise turning into one of joy, "It's been so long since I've last seen you! How have you been?"

— previous || masterlist || next

summary: you and albedo have finally reached a mutual understanding as your first year of college comes to a close. with a new school year comes a new beginning, and you start off strong with albedo asking you the oddest of arrangements: "would you like to be lab partners?"

author's notes:

idk how the college campus curfew works so shush suspend your disbelief. you’re sleeping in the same room as albedo ok

he also just bought you a shirt, undergarments, and some sweatpants. gotta make sure you’re comfy

featured song: Coming Back to Me by Leith Ross

taglist (i):

@fvkkyu @mintreen @edreee @khyllynnn @xxmirrorballxx @aiikalvr @yaefics @unsterblich-prinz @aequha @alch3myy @lovely-althxa @nei-rinn @cridtiins @zestrya @skylions-den @moriiartt @theother-victoria @sunsethw4 @dazaisfavgf @serossidechick @koiir @lazy-sanns @sweetbunnybunbun @dee-zbignuts @redactedhimbo @yurstepm0m @fanfictwarrior @fuyaa @saoiirsee @ireallylikehamsters @kissingkzuha @whosxangel @kitsuvil @orionicchaos @blurr3db3rry @semi-orangeapple @kunikuzushiit @atlatcaheart @wrrapedroundmyfingerlikearing @scarafrisbee @lost-wicked-artist @kairxse @elysiasbae @eurekatanya @empathum @tatiratty @zannivrs @mikismusings @sunoo-bby @astolary

— the taglist is currently CLOSED! shoot me an ask or a reply if you've changed your url or you'd like to be removed.

[reivelation]

literary references in evangelion

toji suzuhara, kensuke aida, and the last name horaki are lifted from characters within ryu murakami's novel ai to gensou no fascism / fascism of love and illusion.

nerv's motto is a quote from pippa passes, a 1841 verse drama.

"God's in his heaven— All's right with the world!

this line is also quoted in anne of the green grables.

"'God's in his heaven, all's right with the world,'" whispered Anne softly.

isao takahata's anime adaptation anne of the green gables also includes a scene similar to the ending scene of the anime series.

the name of episode 26 (the beast that shouted i at the heart of the world) is a reference to the book by harlan ellison, the beast that shouted love at the heart of the world, a collection of short stories. "i" sounds very similar to "ai", meaning love in japanese.

the greek tragedies, oedipus rex and electra which is fairly self-explanatory... i hope... with the show's use of freudian concepts (shinji's oedipus complex and misato's electra complex respectively.)

the human instrumentality project is a reference to the book series by cordwainer smith, instrumentality of mankind.

despite that, the human instrumentality bears a striking resemblance to the plot of Arthur C. Clarke's 1953 novel, childhood's end.

plot synopsis on goodreads:

The Overlords appeared suddenly over every city--intellectually, technologically, and militarily superior to humankind. Benevolent, they made few demands: unify earth, eliminate poverty, and end war. With little rebellion, humankind agreed, and a golden age began.

But at what cost? With the advent of peace, man ceases to strive for creative greatness, and a malaise settles over the human race. To those who resist, it becomes evident that the Overlords have an agenda of their own. As civilization approaches the crossroads, will the Overlords spell the end for humankind . . . or the beginning?

in asuka and kaji's introductory episode asuka strikes, there are four battleships in the UN convoy named after the shakespeare plays titus andronicus, cymbeline, othello and tempest.

in 2.22, kaji says he feels like urashima taro, referencing the japanese legend named after it's titular character, a fisherman named urashima taro. the legend goes that the fisherman rescues a turtle and is rewarded by a visit to the dragon palace where he is entertained for several days but when he returns to the human world, he finds that he had been gone for at least a century and everything around him has now changed. this is a metaphor for how kaji left tokyo-03 for only two years yet feels as though everything around him has now changed.

episode sixteen being titled (there are alternate titles to several evangelion episodes) sickness unto death after the philosopher soren kierkegaard's book of the same name exploring christian existentialism.

speaking of episodes being titled after philosophical works from the victorian era, is the hedgehog's dilemma. originally described in arthur schopenhauer's collection of philosophical reflections, parerga und paralipomena. the hedgehogs dilemma is a theme seen over and over again in evangelion with episode 4 being titled after it.

the title of evangelion 3.0 + 1.0: thrice upon a time references the book with the same title, thrice upon a time by james p. hogan.

It's amazing enough when Murdoch Ross's brilliant grandfather invents a machine that can send messages to itself in the past or the future. But when signals begin to arrive without being sent, Murdoch realizes that every action he takes changes the future that would have been...and that the world he lives in has already been altered!

Then a new message arrives from the future: The world is doomed!

as qmisato pointed out, anno has referenced james p. hogan's works previously as well (nadia: secret of the waters' final episode being titled inheritor of stars referencing hogan's novel inherit the stars)

[angelofverdum]

Station 19 S07e10

19!

I'm overwhelmed by feelings. It's amazing how much fictional characters can make you feel.

My hope and wish for the end of these characters was for them to have a resolution and be happy.

Honestly, I can't complain. Maybe I should wait for the excitement to die to write anything about it.

But I love the ending for every character. I loved how they incorporated these "dreams" into the action scenes.

Andy as Chief is a great resolution for her. Jack being her true love was not something I was expecting. I feel it was something they pulled out at the last minute, and don't get me wrong I'm not opposed to it, Andy and Jack could have worked if they had more seasons and Grey wouldn't have left.

Ross. I'd hoped Natasha had something more in mind than marrying Bob but she is always being "My man My man My man" so it's fitting

Robert. One thing I loved about these flashforwards was that they were connected. Sully dreamed of that because in Ross's dream, they were already married, so he got to be with her.

Travis's most important relationship is with Vic. If I had Vic as a friend, I'd be like that too. Uprooting your life like that to move with your best friend is really brave.

Warren is probably my least favorite character but that's because he is boring but he is a good man. I was emotional watching his kids all grow.

Beckett is so unserious because why is he dreaming of Ross' sister.

Vic. She made me cried because she deserves everything that it's good in life. I'm so so so happy she didn't end up with Theo. She is helping people and living her best life. My beautiful queen.

Carina's dream is so important bc she had no one, her brother and mom died, and her father is trash. She was alone and then met this stubborn firefighter and said I want a big family with her, and that's what she did. Bring her back to Grey's you cowards.

Maya. My sweet beautiful, reckless, bisexual, hot, brave, selfless, stubborn, broken Maya. Her future was so bright without clouds. She falls asleep thinking about her wife and three kids. Maya who made me come back for season 2, and here I am seven seasons later, just a mess of emotion.

When I saw Carina enter that bar, it took me a whole ass minute to realize what they were trying to do. Why Carina was there. I'll never forget that excitement and I'll always be thankful for pairing them.

It's so weird to see that kind of representation. We didn't need coming out stories or the usual homophobia. Also, they were proud bisexuals and I'm always thankful that Maya said that with her whole chest. That was so important.

Now, my random thoughts about the episode.

I love the scene with the aluminum thing. That was cool and terrifying.

I loved it when Andy showed up. I was crying like she rescued me.

Danielle is so bad at screaming, her voice cracked up so much.

I loved Maya worried about Andy

I loved Carina suiting up finally. It was so funny.

I loved that we got to see adult Prue, and my god the legacy she is carrying.

I loved to see Andy as chief and Maya as captain.

I loved Carina doing what she preaches. Like Maya my god make yourself useful and give that woman an orgasm.

I'm not a fan of the Deluca-Bishop name tag because I just don't like hyphenating last names in general but I think it is cute they did that little detail for the fans who have really been asking for it.

Now for the last scene, keep in mind, that I've been crying the whole episode. Then this hit

I just laughed out loud. Omg, those are some terrible wigs. What was the point? What were they trying to achieve? To make them look older?

You should have put some gray hair and move it along. Like why they were having a bob off. Why would you do that to them?

Let me clean my eyes with Maya's real bob and the hottest she looked in the show.

Anyway, I'm always thankful when I get to experience a TV show so deeply. Even tho the cancellation is unfair. At least we got a proper ending.

I'm also glad that we got actors who cared deeply about their characters and respected them so much.

I'm a mess but 19 forever.

[turnupswritessometimes]

A Toast to the Roman - Last Binding Series - Oneshot

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56529883

Summary: “Mr Ross.” Shit, Robin’s Baronet tone was out – that was how Alan knew he was in trouble. “Did you sell pornography to my sister on an ocean liner?”

“In my defence—” He used his best, most clipped voice. “Your sister bullied me into selling her all the pornography I was carrying. And, if I didn’t sell it to her, I believe the fair lady would have stolen it.”

(In which, Robin discovers Alan sold Maud his porn stash, everyone discovers the identity of the Roman and Alan discovers he's responsible for helping start all of their relationships.)

Word Count: 3,473

A Toast to the Roman

It happened on a lazy Sunday afternoon. A lazy Sunday afternoon of a bank holiday weekend. Naturally, the bank holiday meant Maud had been invited back to the Blyth estate from University – and where Maud Blyth went, Violet Debenham followed. Then, because Robin was Robin, he extended the invitation to Lord Hawthorn, to, “make it something of a party.”

And, where Lord Hawthorn went, Alan Ross seemed to follow.

“That had been my idea – a friendly party,” Robin had said, when they’d arrived. He wore that bright, Baronet smile that was impossible to resist. “A reunion, of the Final Contract Crew.”

Alan smiled back, blankly. “The what?”

“Ignore him,” Edwin appeared from further down the hallway, his arms full of books. “I’ve told him, we’re not calling ourselves that.”

“We need a team name,” Robin said. “Don’t you think?”

Alan weighed that up – figuring out who else would be solidly against the idea of a team name, who would be for it, and which side would be for fun to be with – when Jack said, “This isn’t Oxford, Blyth.”

Robin only laughed. He stepped aside, and welcomed them properly into his house. Alan was starting to feel more and more at ease on these estates, and he didn’t know how to feel about that. Certainly didn’t like becoming accustomed to houses with their own grounds; changing for dinner; days without any plans to do real work. At least he still felt the same zeal to radicalise the staff. At least he would never tire of the way Jack looked at him when Alan did have the clothes to change to dinner: as though he wanted to rip them straight back off and kiss him completely senseless. It was the company – not just Jack, but all of them – that made Alan begrudgingly alright with the whole business. Because they were closer to him than simply friends now. It was like having a second family.

And it was a nice weekend – a good weekend – until Robin leant forward to move a pile of books from the coffee table in the lounge to make room for the chess set, and a purple pamphlet fell out.

There seemed, to Alan, a moment where time stopped, as everyone recognised it. (Purple, Alan thought almost hysterically, was not a very discreet colour.) They’d all been half-asleep in the sunshine drifting through the windows, lounging around, totally full of roast beef dinner with all the trimmings. Now, though, they were all awake. He took stock. Adelaide was (mercifully) in the garden. Maud sat in front of the armchair, legs folded under her, with an expression so carefully clueless it looped right round to guilty. Violet actually sat in the armchair, playing with Maud’s hair, an eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on her face. Entertained.

Both Edwin and Robin were sat on the sofa opposite Alan. Well, Robin was leant over, looking at the pamphlet as though it was a dog who’d slipped the leash and he was trying to catch it solely with his mind. Whilst Edwin was reclining, an elbow on the sofa, his fingers against his temples. He looked faintly sick.

Alan and Jack were on the other sofa. Not close – not practically on top of each other, the way Edwin and Robin always sat. Jack was a respectable distance away, though his arm was over the back of the sofa. If he twitched his hand, he could just graze the back of Alan’s neck – which he deliberately did now. His bad leg was outstretched, his cane against the end of the sofa. He looked impressively uncaring, but there was just a – quirk – to his mouth that showed his amusement.

Alan himself sat on the edge of the sofa, primed like a terrier, and he was desperately trying to school his expression into normalcy. He suspected he was succeeding as well as Maud. He felt nauseous. It was one thing to know that a lot of men had read his pamphlets; it was another thing entirely to come face to face with them – especially when he was good friends with them. Especially when he’d fought alongside them to save England’s magicians – England – the world?

“Ah,” Robin said. “That’s Win’s.”

Edwin’s usually colourless face flushed with pink. “Robin!”

“What?” Robin smiled, easily, and picked up the pamphlet. He still twisted it, to hide the title. “No one knows what it is.”

“Okay,” Alan said. He couldn’t help it. “Even if we all didn’t know what it is, that would only make us more suspicious.”

Jack’s pointer finger traced his neck, and he determinedly did not look at him. No doubt the bastard was smug and smirking. He hated him when he was like that.

“It truly is the guiltiest thing you could’ve said, Robin,” Violet added.

“In that case—” Edwin cleared his throat. “For the record, it’s not just mine.”

“Wait, no.” Now Robin stood, the books discarded, holding Alan’s fucking pornography aloft in one hand. “I can understand Hawthorn and Alan knowing about the Roman. I can even understand Violet. But I would like Maud to explain how she knows.”

Maud ducked her chin, smiling. It was the kind of smile that Alan suspected got her out of a lot of trouble growing up, and he could already see Robin start to relent.

“I happened to stumble upon his works, aboard the Lyric,” she said.

“How?” Robin pressed.

Maud, bless her, probably tried not to. But she couldn’t stop those bright green eyes from flicking to Alan. She might as well have pointed her finger and shouted.

Alan, knowing it was a show of guilt, still looked down. The back of his neck prickled, expecting a nudge from Jack. He didn’t, this time, not with Robin staring him down. It was not so much that their relationship was a secret, but they both seemed repelled by physical affection when other people were in the room. (Apart, of course, from longing looks and ‘accidental touches.’ Perhaps that was part of it.)

“Mr Ross.” Shit, Robin’s Baronet tone was out – that was how Alan knew he was in trouble. “Did you sell pornography to my sister on an ocean liner?”

Violet burst out laughing; Maud giggled; even Edwin hid a smirk behind his hand. Jack though, Jack watched Alan with those piercing blue eyes. He had one eyebrow ever so slightly raised, like a challenge.

Alan, though, wondered if it was a good time to bring up the fact that he’d betrayed them all to Edwin’s evil older brother, and made the whole Last Contract business a hell of a lot harder. Surely that would be a good distraction from selling a Baronet’s sister porn.

“In my defence—” He used his best, most clipped voice. “Your sister bullied me into selling her all the pornography I was carrying. And, if I didn’t sell it to her, I believe the fair lady would have stolen it.”

Maud cried, “That’s slanderous, Mr Ross!”

Robin, though, rolled his eyes, as though he wasn’t truly angry. “Maudie. You can’t bully people into selling you things.”

“In my defence—” Maud sat up, even straighter, her dark hair falling out of Violet’s grasp. It fell around her shoulders in a soft wave. “It made for the most amusing evening we had on that ship.”

“Oh, that’s very true,” Violet added, nudging Maud’s shoulder with her knee. Her smile was dazzling. “Who knew Lord Hawthorn would make such a good character in a Roman pamphlet?”

Robin’s eyebrows rose in interest, looking over them all. Even Edwin looked intrigued. They were both, no doubt, using their imagination, given their familiarity with the Roman’s work. Alan was regretting eating so many roasted parsnips, because they were surely going to be making a second appearance.  Even that would be preferable to them guessing at the intricacies of their relationship.

It didn’t help, of course, that Jack looked so calm about it all – so uncaring – so fucking smug, when he said, “Indeed.”

Alan wanted to bite him, like a cobra. Unfortunately, thinking about biting Jack; about pouncing on his neck and sinking his teeth in; also sent a sting of pleasure through him. Because, hell, when they were alone these days, they alternated between playing out the Roman’s greatest hits and coming up with the inspiration for the next one. Because hadn’t Jack been folded into each of those stories anyway? What was the point of pretending otherwise?

Robin, at least, seemed at a loss. He nodded. Took a breath. Tried, Alan thought, to still be the indulgent, carefree older brother he always was. He twisted the pamphlet in his hand, hitting it in his other palm. Eventually, he sat back down on the sofa. Edwin’s knee nudged his own, in support.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m not happy about it, but alright. That does explain my question. Thank you.”

Edwin rested his cheek on his knuckles, looking Alan over as though he wanted to study him. He decidedly did not like being the centre of attention in this way – it was even worse than being dressed in fine clothes and trotted out to dinner.

“I’m sorry, Robin,” he murmured, and tried to look suitably embarrassed. Really, his mind was thinking back to that night on the ship. Was placing bull horns on the sides of Jack Alston’s head. Would there be any way to convince him to play that part properly, one day? To hear him rumble ‘Cesare,’ in his ear, when he caught hold of him? When he lifted him bodily, as though he weighed nothing and had Alan completely at his mercy.

He had to shift, on the sofa.

Jack. Whose eyebrow raised a step further. Alan narrowed his eyes in reply.

“Allow me,” Jack said, in that low murmur. It was as much of a ‘please,’ as he could ever give. It was the fact that he asked at all, which cut through Alan’s core. The asshole wouldn’t give Alan’s secret away without his permission. Now that he thought about it, he did want to see their reaction.

He nodded.

“What?” Edwin asked, his tongue sharp and his eyes sharper.

Jack, bastard that he was, drew the moment out. Settled himself even further into the sofa, adjusting his leg again, and tilting his chin ever so slightly up in that lordly fashion.

“Books are best read by their authors,” Jack said. He pinched the back of Alan’s neck. Just enough to sting. He had to bite his tongue to stop from laughing. His cheeks bloomed with heat.

There was another moment. A long moment. Edwin looked faintly sick again, his face colourless, his eyes flicking from Alan to Jack. Robin had stopped moving entirely, a half-smile frozen on his face, as though he was expecting them to say it was all a joke. Maud, though, had her hands pressed to her mouth, and looked ecstatic. Violet had hold of Maud’s tresses again, and looked suitably impressed. It was as though Alan writing pornography earnt him more respect, in her eyes, than saving them all from crazy magicians.

Jack, though, Jack looked smug. His hand had stayed just against the back of Alan’s neck. It felt like a claim. Like he’d decided to undress Alan in front of the whole room, and, just like when Jack actually undressed him, it filled him with equal parts embarrassment and excitement. Because everyone in this room was somewhat acquainted with the Roman, and they knew what that implied. Weren’t just placing them both in one of those pamphlets, but confirming it for a fact.  

It should bother him more, that he’d exposed not only his own writing, but his own tastes. But, Maud had let slip too many details about her own love life to Alan – and Jack commiserated his pain from Violet’s chats – and from Robin and Edwin determinedly not looking at each other, he guessed they all had their own tastes. That, at least, meant none of them were alone.

“You don’t mean—” Robin started.

“You?” Edwin asked.

Alan grinned. He couldn’t help it. He opened his hands, his fingers splayed. It was different to admit it when he wasn’t teasing Jack Alston. (When he wasn’t trying to fuck Jack Alston.) It gave him a slight thrill, though, to have this knowledge over everyone. To know that even men like Robin, magicians like Edwin, read his work. And liked it.

From behind Maud’s hands came a delighted giggle. Her eyes shone like jewels. Alan looked at her. He couldn’t help it. He flicked his eyelid in a wink. She giggled more, ducking her chin.

Robin rubbed a hand over his face, laughing soundlessly, still seeming dazed. “But you’re—”

“Older than I look.” Alan leant back, into Jack’s hand. Felt his finger press against the bone of his neck. It sent warmth rushing down his back.

“It’s remarkable, isn’t it?” Jack said. Smug, and, if Alan wasn’t losing his mind, a little proud too. Jack Alston was proud of him. It shouldn’t make him feel like a dog with a bone.

Robin thumped back against the sofa. He still held the pamphlet, and he let it uncurl. Alan got a glimpse at the title; it was the latest. He was still a subscriber, then.

“Damn,” he said. His dark eyes roved over Alan again, and he felt his heart squirm. It was unfair how attractive Robin Blyth was. Doubly unfair that he was much too nice to be in any of Alan’s pamphlets. “You’re a skilled writer, Alan.”

Violet snorted. She finished tying off Maud’s plait. “Please – are you going to wax lyrical about his descriptive writing?”

“Well, it is descriptive.”

Edwin took a folded wooden chess set from the table, and tapped Robin’s leg with it in rebuke. Alan bit his tongue harder, a chill running down his spine by the fact that Jack’s hand was still on his collar.

“It might interest you to know, then,” Edwin said, casually, with just a single sly look at Alan. “That the Roman’s writings played somewhat of a role in Robin and I starting our relationship.”

He said it like a poker player placing a winning hand. It certainly felt like that. For a moment, Alan couldn’t breathe.

He supposed it made sense. After all, they’d all recognised the purple pamphlet here, didn’t they? It was a discreet way of asking if someone else was of a similar persuasion, and he was sure it happened a lot. But, still—

“Is there anyone here who is not in a relationship because of my bloody pornography?” he asked.

“That’s a fine discussion to be having.”

Saints alive, it was Adelaide. Back from the garden, and peering into the lounge. Alan wanted to shrivel up like a raisin on the spot, and never be heard from again, especially with the way she was looking at them all. Thank God for the Blyths, and their infectious laughter. It dissolved most of the awkwardness in the room.

Adelaide looked at them all. She shook her head, and said, deliberately, “I will be reading in my room, if anyone needs me.”

“I’m sorry you had to overhear that,” Robin spoke for the group.

She shook her head again, and disappeared. It left them all looking at each other like guilty children. At least Adelaide’s appearance had knocked some of the smug from Jack’s expression. Alan sat back a little, on the sofa, and felt another possessive graze of touch on the back of his neck. It had answered his question. At least Robin finally had the sense to put the pamphlet back between the books, and pile them up underneath the table, and Edwin had busied himself in setting up the chess board. As Alan watched him, he couldn’t help but wonder – just which of Edwin’s copies of his work were the most well-thumbed? Did he and Robin play them out, too?

Edwin glanced up at him. Alan looked away. He definitely shouldn’t let his mind wander there.

Evidently, it was playing on Violet’s mind too, because she said, “I, for one, am very glad we can all share these details about our sex lives.”

Alan winced; he saw Edwin shake his head, determinedly, where Robin outright groaned.

“No, thank you,” he said.

“Oh, don’t be such a bore,” Maud said, tugging her new plait over her shoulder.

“Maudie.” Robin looked at her.

Maud got his meaning. She wrinkled her noise. “Oh no, you’re right. Let’s not.”

“That’s hardly fair, when I have to listen to Miss Debenham regale me with her stories,” Jack said. He had that fake disgruntled tone, which showed he wasn’t actually cross.

“That’s what friends do, Lord Hawthorn.” Violet ruined her air of manners and dignity by sticking her tongue out.

Alan laughed. He couldn’t help it. The sick feeling had given way to heady one; he’d been met with acceptance; with almost too much eagerness. But it was a secret they were all in together – just like magic, Alan supposed. That was why he felt so giddy. It was so ridiculous. It was ridiculous that he was able to have this conversation at all.

Ridiculous, and yet – it was a secret he could never share with his family. A secret that he was oddly glad to share with this family. His other family. It made him feel confident – powerful – like he’d earnt his place here.

He didn’t want to read too much into what that meant.

“I certainly will be reading the Roman in a new light.” Edwin finished setting up the board. He made the first move, with white, and rested his elbows on his knees as he waited for an opponent.

It definitely wasn’t going to be Alan. The more he played of chess, the less he liked it. He resolutely sat back, trying not to look too much like a cat with the cream. He was giddy, now; giddier from Jack’s proud look and smug smirk. Jack was proud that he’d landed the Roman.

It was Jack who made the move against Edwin. They looked at each other, and Alan suspected it would be a tense match. He nudged Jack’s elbow with his own, when he moved forward. He got a glimmer of those blue eyes on him.

“I know I certainly will be.” That was Maud, also looking far too smug – far too happy about who she could imagine in those pamphlets, now.

“You shouldn’t be reading them at all,” Robin replied – as though he was the epitome of innocence.

“I’m a grown woman, Robin.”

The two glared at each other. Silently, Edwin leant forward to move another chess piece. Jack followed suit. They’d exchanged three moves each by the time Robin stood, clapping his hands on his knees as though that concluded the conversation. (Which meant he’d lost the argument to his sister, Alan noticed.)

“I do have questions, though,” Robin continued. He was heading to the cabinet, and thank fuck for that, because that was where the liquor was kept. Alan felt like a drink. He eyed the sparkling glasses, because it was the only safe thing to keep his eyes on.

“I will not be answering any questions about practicality,” Alan said.

Violet laughed again. Jack made a move that clearly lost him his bishop.

Robin was pouring drinks on the sideboard. His cheeks were actually a faint pink, as though he was embarrassed.

“That wasn’t…” He seemed to be pretending to be more occupied in getting each shot of brandy even. “I rather meant about – where your ideas originate.”

“No,” Alan said. “Not today. Certainly not whilst I’m sober enough to remember. Tihank you.”

Which, at least, got a chuckle out of Jack. Alan kicked his good ankle, and was pleased to see that he left a shoe mark on his Lordship’s trousers. He would not even look at Edwin – still soundly winning against Jack – because he was sure there would be some knowing there.

Robin looked suitably cowed and apologetic (for the time being), as he handed out the glasses. They really were fine things; crystal-clear glass with patterns cuts into them; the likes of which the Rossi family would likely never own.

He really did live in two worlds.

“Can we have a toast though?” Robin asked. Asked Alan, and actually waited for him to nod, cheeks still hot. He was rewarded with another of those bright, Blyth smiles. “Well then, a toast to the Roman – for how his…descriptive literature brought us all together.”

Brought them all together, indeed, Alan thought, as they raised their glasses in unison. The brandy glowed golden in the sunlight coming through the windows. It was warm, kicking Alan’s throat on the way down.

But he was smiling.

And that, he thought, was pretty fantastic.

[romanarose]

Darkness on the Edge of Town: Chapter 1

Joel Miller X Reader

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Summary: While heading home for a mandatory lockdown, Joel stumbles on something he wasn't supposed to see with FEDRA guards and steps in. This, unfortunately, lands with him spending unexpected time with a young woman. Oh, and there's only one bed.

warnings!: attempted gang rape, physical hard with a gun, mentions of blood, canon typical violence, lmk if I missed anything! EVENTUAL SMUT

A/N: This was supposed to be a one shot. Now I'm not sure how many chapters we're looking at. Three minimum. Also, I KNOOOOWWWWW this follows the biggest Romana trope: Protective! Man protecting a woman. I will not apologize.

EDIT: This was originally posted as an OC fic, because I had bigger plans for it, but I honestly lost a lot of steam on it. I was going to give up on it tbh but someone sent an ask asking about a chapter 2, and I hate to disappoint! So I'll be condencing the story and making it a reader fic. hoping you guys like it! ****************************

As the sun was setting, Joel walked to his home, trying to savor the last of the outside he’ll have for the next couple days. The local government had made a mandatory few day quarantine for no discernible reason other than to exercise control, remind the citizens who was in charge. A week, give or take, without work wouldn’t be great by any means, but Joel and Tess at least had a partnership, so they weren’t completely on their own. This week, however, Tess was gone. She was making a trade with Bill and Frank when the lockdown announcement came out, and Joel had to radio over for her to stay there until it ended. This meant that he had a week alone in his tiny apartment room without Tess knocking on his door for one reason or another.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” A woman shouted from the alley he was passing.

Joel’s survival instincts said to keep walking; wasn’t his business, wasn’t his problem, wasn’t him or Tess or any of their allies. He didn’t need to get involved. But Joel knew right from wrong, and as much as he liked to pretend to himself he wasn’t a good person, that he wasn’t the same person he was before Sarah died, he couldn’t keep walking. Plus, Tess would kill him if she knew he walked away from this. Turning down the alley, he saw you being pushed and pulled by some soldiers; all men. One pulled you by the shirt so you were flush against him, and you shoved him off yourself, making the young man hit the alley wall. This action earned you a pistol whip, causing blood to come out of you forehead as you cried out, stumbling backwards into the arms of another man, and Joel couldn’t stand back any longer.

“Hey!” He shouted, striding further into the alley. One of the soldiers grabbed your arm, keeping her to him and away from Joel. “What’s goin’ on here?” He said, eyeing the men. He was more or less familiar with them, some he knew their names, some he didn’t but recognized their faces.

One man he had dealt with, a trouble maker who liked to use his power to his benefit and was surround by rumors of his treatment of women. Nothing could be proven, and no real accusations were made; they wouldn’t go anywhere if there had been. His name was Ross, a younger man than Joel was by a few decades, one of those who had been teenagers when shit went south. That age had been terrible in the ‘before’, a time of confusion and soul searching for anyone, and all that had been interrupted by losing everything. This created a lot of inner turmoil that never settled for most. Some killed themselves, some managed it, some became god awful people.

Ross spoke, eyeing Joel with a smirk. “Curfew, Joel, you know the rules.”

“She’s still got ten minutes.” Joel spoke firmly, his stare intense on the younger man, letting him know he wasn’t backing down. His eyes connected with yours. Joel wasn’t an idiot, he knew there were different dangers in this world for women, something he’d likely never have to worry about outside of concern for Tess.

Not phased by Joel the way many others were, Ross continued his hold. “She lives on the other side of town, she’s not getting there on time. But don’t worry” He laughed lightly. “We’ll escort her”

If Joel wasn’t certain what they were planning, the way they laughed and smiled at each other told him. With a grunt, you kick your leg hard against his shin repeatedly, causing him to shout and push you off of him to stop the assault on his leg. Joel took the opportunity, grabbing your dirty shirt and yanking you back behind him. Surprisingly, you smack his arm in return. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“I’m trying to help you” Joel grumbled to you.

“I don’t need it” But none the less you stood behind his broad body.

Ross was less pleased now. “Lockdown is in 5 minutes, how you gonna get her home before then, Joel?”

Joel hesitated. This was the last thing he wanted this week, a week where he had an excuse to stay home, be alone and wallow in his own misery, but there was no way he could live with himself if he just left you. “She’ll come with me”

Ross eyed him, obviously irritated that he’s losing. “You didn’t seem like the type to take in a charity case… or do you have some ulterior motives.”

Joel didn’t play games. Turning on a heel, you were now in front of him and he pushed you forward and out of the alley quickly. “Go”

You shoved him off you, whispering harshly. “Stop fucking touch me!”

“Go” But he kept his hands off you.

As they turned the corner, he heard Ross call out to them. “Four minutes Joel!” His voice echoed mockingly. “Better hurry!”

But Joel was already speed walking.

“Where are we going?” You scrambled after him.

“My place.”

You stopped in your tracks. “I’m not going with you.”

Turning around only briefly, he took one long stride towards her, pointing his finger. “You have two choices. Go with me to my shithole,” He pointed back towards the alley. “Or you can do with them. Up to you.” He saw you glare at him as he turned back around; he did his part and you were an adult, you could make her own stupid choices.

He heard you footsteps. You quickly followed him.

Joel and you barely made it in time.

The room was… a room.

One bed, a beat-up old lounge chair, a dresser, table and two chairs. The ‘kitchen’ was a small stove with a single burner, but it didn’t look very used; the microwave did. To the left there was a door, presumably to the bathroom. You stood in the doorway awkwardly, body tense and stiff.

Joel gestured vaguely around the apartment and grumbled something she didn’t quite understand, but she assumed it didn’t really matter what he said.

“Nice place” You said, looking around.

Looking slightly defensive, he replied. “No one’s making you be here”

You frowned at him. “I was trying to be polite, but fine, you live in a shithole.”

“Yeah, well, this shithole is where you’re stuck for the next few days, unless you wanna risk it with Ross” He said with a little bite, before feeling just a bit bad. When he glanced over at you, you were harshly glaring at him. “I’m Joel” He muttered under his breath.

“Yeah” You scoffed. “I picked up on that between you yanking me around”

Joel turned to face you, crossing his arms in annoyance. “You’re welcome” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Undeterred, you crossed your arms back, hips cocked as you stood in defiance, seeming to consider your next words. Then, as nervousness flickers around your face, you seemed to realize the position you were in. Looking away and to the floor, you spoke softer. “Thank you. I know this isn’t… ideal”

“Don’t worry about” He grabbed a flannel shirt and sweats from his drawers and tossed them abruptly at you, then motioned for the bathroom. “Showers o’er there. There's… um…” He hesitated. “Under the sink.”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “What’s under the sink?”

Running a hand through his hair, Joel turned away and pretended to be suddenly very interested in the lamp. “You’ll see.”

“Sounds like a threat, but okay.” You murmured as you shuffled into the bathroom before stopping and turning around, telling him your name.

He gave a nod, barely acknowledging you as you disappeared into the bathroom. This was going to be a long fucking week.

When you took in the dingy bathroom, you decided to see what he was talking about beneath the sink. When you opened up the small cabinet, you found possibly the last thing you were expecting to see in the bathroom of the world's grumpiest man. Pads. The initial surprise you felt was quickly overtaken with a swell of warmth. You wondered about the type of man he was before the outbreak. The last 20 years had broken some of the best people down, the need for survival tearing people apart… but you firmly believed good people remained good deep down, someone inside them, even if it only came out when necessary. And today, as you faced down a group of men with evil intentions, it was clear that this was a situation he couldn’t ignore. You’d seen a lot in your years, more than enough for several lifetimes.

The bath felt nice, even if it was cold, as did his clothes, as well worn as they were. When you padded out into the one room place, you saw him standing over what could barely be called a stove.

“It’s just shitty canned soup, you can have some. I don’t got a lot here, but enough to get us through.”

“Thank you. I can pay you back once I get home”

“Hm.” Was his non committal answer.

A pause.

“And thank you for stopping-”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I mean it-”

Joel whipped around, his eyes intense and alight. “I said, don’t mention it.”

You shut your mouth but glared at him, letting him know he was being a dick. And yet, you really weren’t in much of a position to complain, were you? He had saved you from an attempted gang rape, the act of which caused him to have to put you up in his home, share his clothes, his water, his food… All the while giving no indication he had any ill intentions of his own. How many people would do this for a stranger?

He got his food, sitting at the table and once again gesturing vaguely towards the ‘kitchen’, prompting you to get food for yourself. You didn’t feel you weren't exactly wanted at the diner table, so you looked around for another place to eat, moving over to the chair. It wasn’t the worst thing she’d sat on, but it wasn’t the best either. A new problem was glaring as they ate in silence.

There was only one bed.

You piped up. “I can sleep on this chair.”

“Yeah” Was all he responded.

Clearly, he meant for you to sleep there anyway. It was going to suck, but it was better than whatever was planned for her in the alleyway.

Wordlessly, he walked off and shut the door to the bathroom and it wasn’t long before she heard the water running to take his own cold bath. Amazing bedside manner, really. Top tier. You tried to remind yourself you were looking a gift horse in the mouth, and brushed off your bitterness. When Joel immerged, he didn’t look at her as he walked past.

“So,” You started.

“No.”

“How long have you-”

“No.”

“Do you at least-”

A loud groan as he scrubbed his face, signaling you to stop.

You sat there, staring at the wall while Joel went about his business before you heard him call to you. “Hey. C’mere”

You turned around, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why”

“If you want your fucking forehead infected, that’s on you”

“Wait!” You scrambled up, walking over towards him where he had some basic first aid. “Sorry, I-”

“Sit” He directed to the chair at the table, not making eye contact.

Doing as you were told, you sat down at the table, looking up at Joel as he bent over you. You winced as he applied the disinfectant. “You could sit-”

“No” Despite his harsh tone, his touch was gentle, careful, and moving away when you winced.

“So” You tried to start a conversation again. “Joel. That’s Hebrew, right? Are you J-”

“Stop.” Joel briefly put his hands down, standing straight up. From your view on the chair, you suddenly realized how tall he was. His eye contact, when focused on you as it was now, was all consuming. “We’re not friends, we’re not going to come out of this as friends, we’re gonna be lucky if we don’t rip each other's head off. So how about you stop talking, and I stop wondering if I can drown myself in the bathtub every time you ask me a question.” When you didn’t argue, he oh-so softly applied a bit of antibiotic ointment, careful not to waste the little he had.

“Well, that was a bit blunt” You commented as you studied his face. Handsome, older; graying but not falling apart. His accent was southern, but where? You could not place, but that would explain his sense of duty.

“You asked if I was Jewish an hour into knowing me, and out of nowhere. I don’t think I’m the blunt one here” Joel muttered again, but this time there was a hint of… something else. Not quite playful, there was nearly no change in his tone, he was just as gruff as before, but the way he spoke indicated it was almost a joke. Almost. But not quite. He stood up without another word and washed his hands of the antibiotic cream and remaining blood that had oozed out. Grabbing an extra blanket from the drawer, he tossed it at you aimlessly and hit the light.

“Go to bed”

“It’s 8pm”

“Go. To. Bed.”

“Old man”

This received no response from him, but you laughed to yourself.

“Good night Joel.”

A loud sigh was the only response you got.

**************************

I'VE NEVER WRITTEN FOR JOEL SO PLEASE BE NICE! I don't know a whole lot about this universe or the world building so I'm so sorry if this is wrong. But I love Pedro so so so so much and I love TLOU so far!!! Please leave a comment if you like what you see so I know people want more, and reblog if you are so inclined! It's the only way to spread my work on this sight!

Shocker. The fic is titled after a Springsteen song. Joel Miller Listens to Springsteen, Melloncamp and Petty and I will not be taking criticism at this time.

And! Be sure to check out my other Pedro character fic, Take Your Time with my boy Frankie Morales! Tagging some I think may be interested, if you aren't interested in Joel fics just comment to be removed!

My love, @welcometostayingawake @trinkets01 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @luciannadraven33 @howaboutcastiel

[thefrontofmymind]

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1 - Secret Santa

hello all! this is the first installment of @abiiors 's 12 Days of Christmas !!

NOTE: this is a continuation of Nothing's Changed, a oneshot I wrote a few months ago. i would say you should read it beforehand just so you know what's going on

You weren’t nervous for the faculty secret santa, you’d seen a billion listicles of good generic gifts that could fit just about any of you coworkers.

It was only as you slyly opened the folded piece of paper you drew from the box and read the name, a shock went down your spine and you broke into a cold sweat. Ross.

You could argue it was silly to get so worried. You had your lists! But with Ross…it has to be special. You had to get him something meaningful–this was your first Christmas together, and granted you’d already ordered him a stack of vintage records of albums he loved, but you knew you couldn’t flake out and get him…a box of chocolates, for example.

But you had to be careful, anything too special could set off alarm bells in everyone else’s heads. It was common knowledge that you were friends in uni, and when given the chance you would be glued to each other’s sides, but there were policies about fraternisation between colleagues and you couldn’t lose this job.

You wracked your brain from the Wednesday morning of the name draw, up until Friday afternoon trying to think of something–anything–for Ross.

“You still here?” Lou said, popping her head through your doorway. “I thought I’d be the last one out of here tonight!”

You laughed–your neighbouring drama teacher was known for spending her evenings building set pieces and readying props and costumes for whatever performance her classes were doing next. “Just…milling around…”

“What’s up?” In the few months you’d known her, it seemed Lou always had the knack for sensing when someone was off; she’d know to send a student to the school nurse just with one glance at them.

“It’s silly, really…” You trailed off.

“It’s clearly bothering you, what’s up?” She persisted, taking a seat on the desk closest to your work station at the front of the room–where Ross would sit to eat lunch with you everyday for the past 2 months.

“I just don’t know what to get my secret santa–I know it’s stupid to get all worried about it–just…you know, I need it to be perfect,” you answered.

Lou let out a sigh. “What are you doing tomorrow? We can go into town and I’ll help you find a gift.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief at the idea of help. Though, how would you go about with Lou’s help without her cottoning on to the fact that the one reason you were so nervous was that you didn’t want to toe the line of co-workers and romantic partners too much around the people that couldn’t know.

“And maybe I’ll find something for my gift,” she continued. “What do you get Jimmy in Geography, anyway?”

“A map?” You joked.

“Well I imagine he probably has enough of those laying around,” Lou answered with a grin. “Who do you have anyway?”

“Ross.”

“Ah, right, I get it now…” she commented before leaving, calling out a quick ‘I’ll drop by at 10!’ as she strolled out the door.

~~~

It wasn’t as cold as you expected the next morning. The sun had come out and there was a light layer of dew over the outside frames of the windows of your flat. You could even get away with just wearing your coat with a normal t-shirt for once.

You spoke to Ross the night before–he had grading to do before the end of term so he was spending his whole Saturday in a hole in his living room, surrounded by four classes worth of history essays to read. You were grateful he didn’t ask what your plans were, you just left it at a ‘then I’ll leave you to it’ and he seemed satisfied with it.

And in a stroke of rare luck, Lou was at your doorstep at 10 on the dot, with two oat milk lattes in her hands. It was never her forte to be on time, but you were glad your morning wasn’t full of anxiously waiting around for your coworker–and now friend. 

“So what are you thinking?” Lou asked as you strolled through the crowded street mall you found yourself in. She pointed to a fancy cosmetics shop. “Cologne or something maybe?”

“Not personal enough, I think,” you answered. “Why couldn’t I just get someone I don’t know anything about?!”

Lou laughed. It made you realise you may have been overthinking it just a little. You’d known Ross for years, you loved him… You just had to go with your gut.

“You and Ross are close, huh?” Lou continued after a few moments of silent strolling.

“In uni…we were inseparable,” you replied. “Like really close.”

She gave you a look, wide eyes. It was a silent question. Just how close? You gave one curt nod in response, a sign that you couldn’t talk about it, but it was clear what the answer would be.

Suddenly you felt like a weight had come off your chest. Finally you were honest to someone about Ross. You realised you didn’t have to completely hide your relationship, you just had to be careful about it. You immediately caught onto the notion that by and large you didn’t need to overthink this all; just go with your heart, and you’ll find the perfect gift for the most perfect man.

Walking past a jeweller, a gold glint caught the corner of your eye. It was a display in the window–a gold chain, not too delicate, but thick enough for you to see it immediately. You made a b-line for it without even looking to Lou. Every link interlocked with each other and laid so smoothly. 

You remembered Ross wore a thin chain in university–you remembered it dangling over your face as he hovered above you, begging for him to drown you in kisses yet again. At some point over the years he must have either lost it or forgone it as a growing moment. You missed it tickling your face, hiding within his chest hair like a hidden treasure waiting to be unearthed–you got butterflies just thinking about it.

Sure, it was a little out of the price range for the gift exchange, but you always took those sorts of things as just a guideline. You and Lou walked out of the little family-owned shop with a tiny navy blue bag in your hand and a spring in your step.

~~~

You kept one eye on the small wrapped box under the tree in the staffroom during the staff party. Even though no one, bar Lou, knew what it contained, you were still worried someone would take it or misplace it or mistake it for their own gift. Through drinks and shallow conversations about your holiday plans and picking at the spread of potluck appetisers provided but almost everyone in the room, every so often you would just quickly glance to make sure it was still in it’s spot sitting atop a wrapped cylinder that you could only guess was a candle–it made you giggle to yourself to think that someone panicked and grabbed the first think they could think of, the most basic gift imaginable.

You spent most of your time glued next to Ross. He looked so…beautiful in his knitted red sweater with his hair pulled back like usual. You just couldn’t wait for him to open his gift. You couldn’t help but stare at the glint in his eyes as he chuckled along with the group at Kerry from biology’s story about her sons’ antics.

After about an hour and a half of mingling, it was finally time for the gifts. You all sat in a big circle around the staff room as Principal Janine handed out the wrapped presents. You giggled at the gag gifts, smiled at the sweet gifts, and tried to hide your confusion at gifts that were clearly some kind of inside joke you weren’t privy to.

Janine finally picked up the box for Ross. “And this one’s for…Ross!”

You could barely contain your excitement as he began to tear at the corner of the wrapping. You could tell he was being gentle with it, trying to ignore the spurs of “rip it!” from the group. He looked inquisitively at the small velvet box once it was free from the paper.

“Open it,” you whispered from beside him. You almost missed the glint in his eye as he slyly glanced at you. You knew you’d already given the game away–he knew it was from you.

The gold chain didn’t sparkle as much as you hoped under the fluorescent lights of the staff room, but it still caused a mist in Ross’ eyes just the same.

“So who do you think it’s from, then?” Lou asked with a grin–after all, she was there with you when you bought it.

“It can only be from one person, I reckon.” He smiled and placed a firm hand on the back of your shoulder.

You could’ve melted under his touch then and there. Even with all the private escapades you had gotten up to, nothing could compare to the adrenaline rush you felt at the tiniest amount of affection you could show each other in public.

“Well, I noticed you don’t wear one anymore! I thought you could get a little nostalgia from it!” You were smiling so wide, it looked like someone had stuck a clothes hanger in your mouth.

You noticed that underneath the tree was beginning to get sparse. Only about half a dozen gifts were left, you wondered which one was yours.

Janine grabbed a bulky, square-shaped, wrapped box and read the nametag on it. She joyfully passed it to you.

You couldn’t help but immediately tear the wrapping, making just an ounce of the mess you used to love making on Christmas morning when you were a kid.

It was a bottle of perfume. Not just any bottle. Britney Spears’ Midnight Fantasy. You let out a deep chuckle once you’d registered what it was–the perfume you were just about addicted to in uni, you pretty much had a stockpile running of them for your full 3 years there.

You heard a laugh from beside you. Ross had a smile just as wide as yours, his cheeks had all bunched up and he got those little creases at the edges of his eyes that you loved so much.

“Of course!” You bellowed. You realised everyone else in the room looked confused, you thought it’d be kind to clue them in. “I was obsessed with this perfume in uni, like, I don’t think I ever wore another perfume then.”

“Never! We knew you’d be coming when we could smell it while you were still a mile up the road!”

~~~

Ross’ cheeks were lit but the LED tealights surrounding your flat. You set up a picnic of sorts–inside, of course, no one in their right mind would stay outside in the freezing temperatures for longer than necessary–with an Indian takeaway.

It was small moments like this, the intimacy, that made you appreciate Ross even more. You’d thought it out and come to a conclusion; you didn’t mind that you couldn’t be all love-y with each other in public, it was the private times that counted, and with each interaction you could feel yourself falling further and further.

“I hope you like it,” you said, when discussing your secret Santa gifts–coincidentally to each other.

“Are you kidding, love? You’ll have to wrestle it off me now!” He smiled, a little wonky from the two bottles of wine you’d shared that evening.

You giggled. “I’m glad, and likewise with the perfume I…I can’t believe you remembered the exact one.”

“Of course I did!” He replied. He placed his plate on the picnic blanket that was sprawled out on your living room floor. “I actually have something else–to go along with it…”

He shifted and turned to dig through his bag, normally filled with supplies for school and his laptop. He retrieved a brown paper binded scrapbook.

“This was the-uh-second part of the gift,” he continued. “But I couldn’t quite give you this bit in front of everyone else.”

He handed you the book, and you finally got a good look at the cover. There was a picture of the two of you back from some university party back in the day–probably scoured from someone’s Facebook memories. You tried to hide your cringe at your outfit, not quite something you would wear today.

You began to flip through the pages. Photos from your year together, tickets to the films you saw at the cinema, a concert ticket or two as well. Each page had a little paragraph written right onto it in Ross’ scribbly yet concise handwriting–sometimes explaining a memory of a day in the fall when you got excited to watch Hocus Pocus with him, or a poem about snow falling down on you and resting in your hair.

You flipped to the last page, there was a lengthy letter written.

My love,

If all is going as planned, I’m watching you read this right now. I could stare at you forever, you know that?

You looked up to see Ross smiling at you, you couldn’t help but let out a schoolgirl-like giggle.

Even though you’ll vehemently deny it, the truth is you are the most beautiful sight in the world. Ever. I will never get sick of being graced by those eyes, the curve of your neck into your shoulders, your arms that you swear dangle just a little too far to be proportionate, and those hips–my word, those hips.

I could go on about your looks forever, but that is barely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the marvel that is you. You’re always so kind, so caring, and you’re the smartest in most rooms you’re in.

For a long time I thought the only chance I had with you was gone when we split so long ago. I must’ve accrued some bloody good karma to give me a second chance at loving you. I know it hasn’t been that long this time around yet, and I know we’re bound for a hassle the longer this goes on, but I want you to know that I’m in it. Whatever it takes, you are staying in my life and there’s not a chance I’m letting you go again.

All of this to say, I love you.

Your Ross

P.S. Don’t feel pressure to say it back or anything. It’s just important that you know.

You couldn’t stop the grin on your face. There was heat spreading all across your face and neck. You realised you hadn’t looked back up at Ross yet–you just couldn’t help but re-read the last few lines of his letter. I love you. I love you. I love you.

When you finally looked back at him, you could see his smile had faltered just a little. He was worried about your response.

You tried to find the words to tell him how you felt. How perfect this all was.

“Sorry if I…overstepped,” he started. “I just had to get it out, you know? Like there was this-”

You cut him off with a kiss. A deep kiss. The kind that did all the talking for you. The kind where you didn’t care that your teeth hit each other on impact and your neck was craning in an awkward position and all of Ross’ weight was settled on one hand leaning on the carpet and it was beginning to aggravate the skin on the palm of his hand.

In the end, none of that mattered. Because you loved each other, and after so long without one another that was the most important thing in your life.

[scotianostra]

March 8th is the feast day of Saint Duthac, patron saint of the royal burgh Tain in Easter Ross in the Scottish Highlands, the Gaelic name for Tain is Baile Dubhthaich, means ‘Duthac’s town’.

Tain was an important place of pilgrimage in the middle ages. St Duthac was born here about 1000 AD, although some sources say Ireland, he was educated there and became a Celtic missionary. Now I know most of you will not have heard of him, but perhaps the whisky connoisseurs will know a little, as the local distillery, Glenmorangie produce a whisky “fit for a King” which honours St Duthac, who King James IV used to make an annual pilgrimage to Tain to honour.

Duthac died in 1065 and in 1253, his relics were returned to Tain and buried in the small chapel on the north east side of the town. Tales of miracles soon grew up round him and St Duthac’s chapel. It rapidly became one of the most important places of pilgrimage and sanctuary in Scotland. In 1427 the chapel was burnt down and his remains were transferred to the Collegiate Church in the centre of town. The peak of the shrine’s popularity as a place of pilgrimage came around 1500 with the repeated visits of King James IV.

Duthac’s remains disappeared during the turbulent times of the reformation when so many of the ancient churches and relics were lost. The Collegiate church was abandoned in 1815 when a larger church was built to replace it.

After the Reformation the saying of masses ceased, the trappings of pilgrimage were removed as well as the altar and it became the parish church, what would be described as a bog standard place, the reformers did not believe any place of worship should be embellished at all, not even the crosses, which from those days lost the image of Christ and any Celtic designs.

I’ll go back to the pilgrimages to Tain before the reformation, and one particular one when King James IV visited the relics of St Duthac on pilgrimage at least once a year between 1493 and his death at Flodden in 1513. However, the August 1513 visit was different. Firstly this was an unusual time of year for the king to travel to the shrine. Only one of the 19 recorded pilgrimages made by the king took place in August. He normally visited around the time of the feast day of St Duthac on 8 March, or after the harvest in October. The trip in 1513 was also unusually low key. Most of the flamboyant monarch’s visits to the north were accompanied by his minstrels and a large retinue. James IV visit Tain in 1513 may have been in order to seek a prophecy of military victory from Duthac.

There are plenty of precedents for this sort of behaviour by in the middle ages.

Without surviving diaries or letters we will never be sure of the exact motivations behind the doomed monarch’s last trip to the north. He may well have gone merely to seek the blessing of one of his favourite saints, or because he knew he would be on campaign at his normal pilgrimage time of October. Whatever the exact purpose, the visit by James to Tain in August 1513, his last act before invading England, underlines just how close a relationship the monarch had built up with a small northern town and its patron saint.

As well as the church named after him, there is a walk, called St Duthac's Way, one of the 8 pilgrim routes that make up The Way of St Andrews, you can read more about the routes here https://www.thewayofstandrews.com/