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kinsey3furry300 · 3 years ago

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So how the heck do the Avengers pay for stuff, and how rich are they?

So, in the wake of “Falcon and the Winter Soldier” There’s a lot of debate about why Sam didn’t seem to get paid well for his work in the Avengers (at least in the MCU continuity), and this has got me thinking: we’ve got no evidence that the Avengers are, financially, anything but a hot mess. So lets break it down, Avenger by Avenger, using real-world pay scales for the ones who have jobs.

Tony: a billionaire, so clearly he’s a financial genius, right? Well….. his actions say otherwise. He’s shown to be wildly irresponsible with his money. He inherited a lot of wealth form his parents which was managed by the first Jarvis, Obadiah, and Pepper for him, he buys and then gives away not just woks of art, but entire collections by major 20th century artists on a whim, destroyed his own cars and home without concern, he tanks the value of his own company in the first Iron Man with a bad press interview, gets kicked of his own bord of directors, and ultimately, in Iron Man 2, gives control of his company to Pepper. He’s insanely rich, and insanely smart, but man, he’s not smart with his money. So all the cool stuff, his suits, the Avengers tower, the facility up-state: that’s all paid for by him, but Pepper is holding the purse-stings. So, does he pay the others? We have no evidence for most of them… but we do with Spidey. Peter Parker is in the Stark Internship Program a euphemism to hide the fact he’s training and mentoring him as a super-hero, but I find the wording interesting: he refers to Spidey, his surrogate son and chosen heir, as an intern. I.E., Unpaid. I’m guessing this is Howard’s influence over him, some sort of ‘make you own way in the world, son’ attitude, but if he’s not paying Spidey, is he paying anyone else? He certainly pays for stuff super heroes suits and things, equipment, fuel, the base, but does he pay anyone a wage? No one ever mentions it. You think it would come up.

So, if he’s not paying them a wage, where do Avengers (and thier allies) get their day-to-day money from, and are they rich? Using google and https://www.federalpay.org, lets find out.

Cap: Well, before Civil war, he’s a shield operative, and he presumably still holds his military rank: he’s a US Army captain, with (well) over 40 years service, so USD$88,142.40 per year, with $237.71 drill pay (pay per drill you have to do on weekends, on leave or outside of normal service) and $175.00 per month hazard pay (which I bet is interesting) on top of that. As a WW2 veteran, he’d be eligible for a war pension if he:

Was not discharged for dishonorable reasons; and,

Served 90 days of active military duty; and,

Served at least one day during wartime ("wartime" as determined by the VA); and,

Had countable family income below a certain yearly limit; and,

Is age 65 years or older; or

Regardless of age is permanently disabled, not due to wilful misconduct.

As he’s still receiving 90k per year, he’s ineligible for a pension as his countable yearly income is above the limit. So if shield pays him in accordance with his rank and years of service, about $90, 600 per year incuding hazard pay.

After civil war, he’s a fugitive on the run, so presumably flat broke. I’d asume he gets his pension returened to him after the snap.

He’s also just gone from the 40’s to the present day, so 70 years of inflation probably makes buying things very confusing for him: everything would seem insanely expensive at first. He’d also not know what the correct prices are for anything invented after 45. You might get used to how much more expensive food and coffee is, but how much is a smart-phone worth? $200? $2000 $20000? Who knows? I bet the others have to facepalm a lot when he either refuses to pay for what he sees as clear price-gouging, and at the same time regularly pays insane amounts of money for goods and services because he doesn’t know better. He also has no known assets other than his pay: he rents an apartment making him one of the few American males in his age-group who isn’t a home-owner

Thor: Does Asgard even have currency? It’s depicted like a “Crystal spires and toga” type utopia with no poverty: even working class Asgardian’s like Scourge seem to be pretty well-off and want for nothing, so he’s from a post-scarcity society where actual magic is a thing. His “Another” coffee cup smashing and the fact he doesn’t have a computer of phone in Ragnarök might indicate that, no, he just doesn’t have, need or understand money. Splitting a bar tab with him must be a nightmare. His breakdown post snap indicates he’s got some cash, but not a huge amount, and is probably skiving of Valkyrie and the other Asgardians.

Banner: Okay, so a PhD could make you a lot of money from patents… in pharmacology or engineering. Theoretical physics? Not so good. And if Banner did have any patents, they’ve probably been seized under eminent domain by the US military. At the start of The Hulk film, he’s working a entry-level factory job at a botteling plant in Brazil. The minimum wage in Brazil is 1069.62 Real per month, that’s 12,835.44 Real per year, or around $2437.79 US per year, before everything goes wrong for him! He then runs off to India, works for Tony for a bit and then gets shot into space. Spidey may actually make more in allowance than Banner does, and Banner is a gown ass man with bills to pay: I’d imagine he loses a lot in ripped clothing.

Natasha and Barton: Pre Civil-war, both are government spooks, so how well does that pay? The salaries of CIA Intelligence Analysts based in the US range from $25,838 to $685,701 , with a median salary of $125,340, so let’s assume that Shield pays in a similar range: $685,701 per year for Director Fury, around 125,000 for Natasha and Cliff, which explains Cliff’s nice, middle-class mid-western home. Post civil war, presumably not great: we know that Natasha spends a lot of her savings running and hiding all across the world, and Cliff takes a deal and presumably lives of his savings, pension and his wife’s income.

Rhodes: Full USAF colonel with over 10 years service? $105,562.80 per year, plus $293.23 drill pay per drill and $175 per month hazard pay, and because he’s team Stark and not Team Cap in Civil War, he’d not lose any of that. He presumably also gets an injury pay-out after his accident. After T’challa and Stark, he might be the best paid avenger.

Dr Strange: spends all his money he made as a surgeon on trying to cure his hands: spends literally his last dollars heading to Nepal to train. Wong even jokes with him about their lack of worldly money when asking for a tuna-melt. But, can use illusion to make people think he has money, and his home and clothes etc. come with the job, so in the same boat as Thor in that he has no money, but needs none AKA, he’s a bastard to try and split a restaurant bill with.

Wanda and Vision: No know source of income, just sort of live in Tony’s hose and eat his food, and on top of that Wanda goes on the run after civil war… yet they can stay in fancy hotels in Edinburgh, a relatively expensive city, and Vison apparently bought them a house to retire in, so one of them has some source of money. Maybe Tony gave Vision years of back-pay form when he was still Jarvis, or maybe the vison has a day job, which is, frankly, hilarious. Could you imagine him as a barista? I can, and it makes me very happy.

Scott Lang: I’d assumed he’d be super, super broke, but apparently the average pay for a private security consultant in the Bay area is $85,430 per year. Not bad. Pity he gets sucked into the quantum realm just as his business is taking off, so presumably, flat broke again.

Bucky: no known income, and I doubt Hydra paid him for being the Winter Soldier so he probably has no savings, but he should, technically, qualify for a military pension. As a single veteran, he’d be eligible for federal tax-free pension of up to $1732 per month, or $20,784 tax free per year. Not much for someone who lives in NYC. He may also be eligible for medical benefits over the loss of his arm. Whether or not he got to see any of that money given how confused his life has been over the past 10 years is unclear, but on paper he’s eligible.

T’challa: He is, quite possibly, richer than Stark, and as an absolute monarch pays no tax and has access to his Nation’s vast wealth in vibanium. It’s good to be the king!

Captain Marvel: USAF captain, and a test pilot; the test pilot school only accepts applicants with a service length of less than 9 years 6 months (10 years six moths of helicopters) as they don’t want older applicants. With 8 years service, $79,538.40, plus drill pay and hazard. However, no know (human) pay since 1990. Flat broke.

Guardians of the Galaxy: no data, but I’m assuming “Cowboy Bebop” levels of perpetual never-ending poverty given the way they choose to live. I’d also assume Rocket has taken all their cash into some sort of Ponzi scheme of his own creation, because just look at him, of course he has.

Spidey: he’s got about $10 of his aunts’ money at any given time, so he can buy lunch… which may in fact be more than Banner or Lang, and we know it’s more that Strange or Thor.

So, here the big one: how rich or how broke is Sam?

Sam Wilson: annoyingly, we’re not directly told what rank Sam held in any MCU film. USAF pararescue “Maroon berets” are generally NCO’s (but there’ are officer-ranked pararescue) , and he’s seen working on his wings at one point, where as officers don’t generally work on or maintain airframes. He’s shown wearing a Nation Air guard grey while jogging at one point to confuse the matter further. The general consensus on redit is he’s a former USAF tech sergeant (E-6). But how long was he in the air force? With six years service (the minimum sensible time he could have served to work in pararescue based on his age), that would be $41,464.80 per year, plus drill pay and hazard. As Anthony Mackie, the actor that plays him, was 36 as of Civil War, and assuming the character is the same age, and assuming he retired from the air force that year, and he joined the USAF at 17, the youngest you can join, he’d have served 19 years, giving him a pay of $51,566.40, the maximum pay you can get at this rank before promotion to Master Sergent, but meaning he left just before he’d qualify for the 50% final salary pension you’d qualify for after 20 years. Which seems weird. So let’s assume the character is one year older than the actor that plays him and served 20 years (ages 17-37), that means Sam has a military pension of $25,783.20 per year (20,784 of it tax-free), plus any injury benefits. He councils other veterans, but doesn’t get paid for that. He also chooses Team Cap in Civil War, so would become a wanted criminal, and so lose his income between 2016 and 2018, and then gets snapped and has no income for 5 years, which would destroy his credit rating. Like the rest of Team Cap, he presumably gets his post snap pardon, and goes to work for the US government at his former pay and rank. However, given how Captain John Walker treats him as an equal, it’s possible he’s been promoted to a captain when the hired back, giving him a pay of between $54,176.40 to $88,142.40 (with 20 years experience, depending on if they take into account his prior service or not, and how much prior service he has), but either way, he’s just starting this as a new job after being legally dead for 5 years: no savings, and no credit.

Commercial fishing vessels cost about 10% of their total value per year in maintenance alone. I can’t identify what sort of boat the Wilson’s have, but some quick googling indicates that the cheapest 15m long wooden in-shore shrimp trawler costs around $140,000, so that’s $14,000 per year in maintenance costs alone, minimum. And that’s a lower estimate, assuming the rest of the business is sound, which we know it isn’t.

So, in concussion, yes, Sam is in some serious financial trouble until he can re-build his savings and credit, but the scary bit is he’s not alone in that: he’s probably better off than Lang, Banner, Danvers, Strange, Thor, Bucky, Wanda and Parker. Only Clint (if he gets a full pardon and gets his full pension), Rhodes, Stark and T’challa aren’t in some sort of potential financial problems. That asshole bank teller was right: despite the fact it seems to pay well on paper, with a few exceptions, the Avengers financials are probibaly a mess. EDIT: Rocket is running the Ponzi scheme, if that’s not clear from context. The others know they have money somewhere, but not where it’s gone. And It’s been pointed out to me that as he’s technically a POW while he’s the Winter Soldier, Bucky is owed over 70 years back-pay, equal to over 3 million dollars, details in the notes.

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serotocin38 · 4 years ago

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Sparring Headcanon

So throughout the MXTX novels, there are scenes about the main couple fighting against some big bad together. And it’s always some epic teamwork that proves that they’re meant for each other, and it’s great.

But maybe it’s just me, but I want more scenes about them fighting each other, like sparring. I know there are a few instances of the main pairing fighting/sparring in pre-relationship times (very good for sexual tension, I approve), but it’s just not the same as post-relationship sparring. Hear me out:

I always have this nagging little thought at the back of my head about how post-relationship fighting/sparring would work with each couple:

BINGQIU

~SQQ would be the one to bring it up in some blunt manner (he’s been around Liu-shidi too much recently), maybe at breakfast one morning ~“Binghe, let’s fight.” *LBH stumbles and nearly pours a bowl of hot congee down his open robes* ~LBH has a hard time understanding why SQQ wants to spar with him. He’s very much afraid he will hurt his husband. ~SQQ was really only nostalgic while watching his disciples train and now that things have settled down, he hasn’t had much of a chance to really use Xiu Ya. ~He is also completely aware that there is no way he will win against LBH, but he doesn’t want LBH to hold back either. ~LBH definitely holds back. He gets hit by the fan several times when SQQ realizes. ~When LBH finally actually puts some effort into sparring (but still holding back a bit), he pins SQQ after a decent match (considering SQQ is sparring the protagonist) ~They’re lying on the ground, SQQ under LBH. Xiu Ya is embedded in the ground some feet away, and Zheng Yang is held near SQQ’s throat. And there is something hard poking at SQQ’s thigh. ~Almost every sparring match ends this way (even if SQQ takes care of that business first), and after a few days of being ravished in the middle of the day, SQQ doesn’t ask LBH to spar anymore. ~LBH asks hopefully a few times, but SQQ just tells him to go fight his Liu-shishu because he cannot have his students see his disheveled, post-sex face in the middle of the day again. ~Eventually they compromise and spar at night instead.

WANGXIAN

~It did not start as a spar. LWJ was correcting the juniors forms in the training yard one morning, and WWX had just woken up. He sat sleepily under a tree near the training fields, eating carrots meant for the rabbits. ~After a bit, he got bored, so he decided to go play teaching assistant. He followed behind LWJ, giving additional tips. ~LWJ is fondly exasperated, and he tells WWX to stop teaching the juniors unconventional forms when they were supposed to be learning the Lan techniques. WWX argues that what he is teaching is Lan techniques. ~One of the juniors asked how WWX knows the Lan techniques. WWX boasts that he knows them very well, simply from observing LWJ. ~Not that LWJ doubts his husband’s abilities, but his Lan pride does not believe that someone can learn their family sword techniques simply by watching ~The juniors definitely add fuel to the flame by wanting see WWX put these techniques to use. WWX tries getting out of it with his usual excuses of how he can’t wield a sword as well without spiritual energy, etc. ~LWJ mentions that sword techniques don’t need spiritual energy to perform. He says that all the disciples are not allowed to use spiritual energy in their attacks until they are proficient in the techniques. ~WWX is eventually persuaded and digs Suibian out from some closet. He is definitely rusty with the sword, but after a bit of warm-up, the muscle memory kicks in. ~He performs the Lan clan sword forms almost perfectly. The juniors are amazed, and LWJ is pretty impressed as well. The juniors want to see if WWX can apply those techniques to a fight and they banded together to encourage a spar between LWJ and WWX ~Feeling confident with his ego boosted so much, WWX challenges LWJ to a fight, purely using the techniques, no spiritual energy. ~LWJ succumbs to the pressure (he can’t say no to WWX). ~They end up more or less evenly matched. LWJ strikes faster and is mostly on the offensive, but WWX is able to predict his moves in advance, so he’s able to block with incredible accuracy. ~They spend most of the morning sparring without one person having more of an advantage over the other. Eventually, it’s time for other lessons for the juniors. ~LWJ is a little bit embarrassed about getting so carried away, but he doesn’t say so. He just sends the juniors away. ~WWX is pretty gleeful, feeling like he won because he managed to hold off LWJ for so long. LWJ gives him the win, of course, because he’s both impressed and doesn’t care for winning or losing. ~WWX breathlessly says he’s happy to spar again anytime. From that day forward, Suibian sees the outside of its sheath more often.

HUALIAN

~XL finds out one day that no one actually taught HC how to fight. He just kind of picked up a sword and swung it around and winged it this whole time. ~XL, a martial god with an obsession with martially talented youth, is both amazed and horrified. He takes it upon himself to teach HC. They spend a few hours every other day going over proper sword forms. ~HC likes these lessons much more than the calligraphy ones. But of course, he pretends not to know what he’s doing, “messing up” the most basic things so that XL would put his arms around him and wrap his hands around E-Ming to show him ~(E-Ming sometimes acts out a bit too just so that XL would hold him) ~(XL eventually finds out and puts E-Ming in time-out to watch while HC uses a non-sentient sword to practice. E-Ming behaves perfectly afterwards.) ~XL is not stupid either. He knows that HC is purposefully messing up (he does the same thing during calligraphy lessons, after all). So he eventually he tells HC to concentrate and to do it properly ~Of course HC listens. And when he actually puts in the effort to learn, he’s an incredibly quick study. Within an hour, he’s got everything down. ~XL tests him with a match, and he is very generous with his compliments during the match, and HC of course, has to reciprocate. ~”San Lang, your footwork is very good, just like I taught you!” “It’s all due to Gege’s splendid teaching.” “No, no, San Lang is just an incredibly talented student! You pick up on things very fast and your memory is very good too.” “Dianxia is too kind. I am only trying to match Gege’s martial skill to be somewhat of a worthy opponent.” ~It becomes more of a verbal battle than a physical one, swords clashing and literally being held there while they exchange words in close proximity ~It would be a ridiculous match to witness (not that HC would let anyone witness it and live to tell the tale) ~Eventually, HC’s smooth talking gets XL flustered and HC wins on accident ~XL jokingly accuses HC of distracting him to win, and HC immediately takes XL’s hand and presses it to his own chest, against his heart, which is beating much faster than it should even though they were “sparring” ~”You’re wrong, Gege. It was you who was distracting me.” ~It’s disgustingly cheesy and XL didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He decides that he sucks as a teacher, or HC sucks as a student because there was no way they can get anywhere with any kinds of lessons when all they end up doing is flirting.

#bingqiu #wangxian #hualian #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #lan wangji #wei wuxian #hua cheng #xie lian #svsss #mdzs #tgcf #mxtx headcanons #writing stuff

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

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Okay just imagine going to college with Scott and he fuckinff looks like this I ASJEBDHSBS-

Going to University with Scott Lang

Pairing: Scott Lang x Art History Student F!Reader

Word Count: 2k ish

Notes: this got away from me but all of my exchanges with you today literally put me in such a Scott mood and this gif sealed the deal— Thank you for the unitentional inspo Eris <3

*Unedited and will remain that way until tmr*

Headcannons below the cut

→ Always, always, always reading— her professors insist on assigning at least four books a class and it becomes insufferable at times but he's always there with a shoulder rub or a warm hoodie or another iced coffee

→ It's actually how they met: she was running terribly late to class and her arms were piled with those treacherous books and she was rounding the corner, vision obstructed, and boom she was suddenly not running but instead sprawled across the sidewalk alongside her books, knees scraped because she had insisted on wearing shorts in October

→ And an oof sounded from beside her and there was this lanky boy with curly brown hair and these bright blue eyes and she wanted to cry because of course she had bumped into a cute boy but then he started laughing and his laugh sounded like melted ice-cream in july— all gooey and warm and friendly— and god she really needed a friend and just like that she was laughing too

→ He called her out after that— you're a freshman, yeah— and her face felt like it was on fire but she was still riding that giddy high of laughter so she stuck out her hand and waited for him to take it before proclaiming— yep and a painfully late one at that; what's with all the hallways here?— and he laughed again because— Couldn't tell you; I'm a second year and I still get lost

→ And then he jumped to his feet and and held out a hand and introduced himself with a quick— I'm Scott— and she took his hand and offered her own name and, with the last dregs of laughter still in her and the desperate need to have at least one friend, tested her luck— Say since I'm already late do you maybe wanna' show me around a little? If you think you can remember the way, that is

→ And his ears turned pink and his cheeks too but of course he said yes because he may be clumsy and had been looking down when she turned to corner and his knee now kind of hurt too but he wasn't stupid— he's many things but a man who turns down an offer to spend a few hours with a pretty girl isn't one

→ So yeah she's always, always, always reading but without the reading she wouldn't have met her best friend so it's really not that much of a price to pay

→ The other thing her professors insist on are visiting the local museums in the area— she doesn't mind that one nearly as much— she loves the atmosphere and being around the paintings and sculptures and the whole of the museums— especially when she manages to drag Scott along

→ Drag, trail after him as he drags her through the museum almost more excited to be there than her, same thing

→ They've gotten some dirty stares before from how loud he talks about the art and, well, the things he says about the art but she doesn't care— he makes her feel warm and happy and laugh— gods she hasn't stopped laughing since that day in freshman year— he may not understand the concepts or the abstract pieces or even some of the basic pieces but he tries and his hand is always in hers

→ In turn she sneaks into the back of his physics classes, dodging the stares from his professors who wouldn't say anything anyway because Scott is an A+ student despite how much he downplays it and they need him in their class

→ She usually just dozes off because for some reason his class is at seven pm and she's already exhausted from her own classes so she just tugs on his hoodie sleeve until he peels it off and passes it to her in which she hastily pulls it on and pulls the hood up, tightening the strings and slumping in her seat

→ Often times she ends up with her head on his shoulder, knees tucked against her chest, or, if she's especially tired, with her head on his lap which— while it's cramped— is surprisingly comfortable— usually his hand ends up on her shoulder or her head— honestly half the time he falls asleep too— the back row is good for that

→ Their fave hangout spot is her dorm room— it would be his but he has a roommate who has a disturbing lack of cleanliness and somehow manages to get his socks on Scott's side of the room— and with her scholarship she got one of the sparse single dorms and always teases him with it

→ "You wanna' come over and study tonight?" "Don't you mean study at mine?" "Shut up I get it— you have the better dorm. Will you ever not hold that over me?" "Never, Scotty."

→ Half the time they just end up falling asleep on her bed— their relationship is built quite heavily on naps— they fall asleep with a good amount of distance between them but somehow always manage to wake up sprawled on top of one another— they both blame it on the other when they wake up and jump away from each other and get all awkward about it until one of them laughs and crawls back to the other, all but yanking them into their arms like why do we do this every time can't we just cuddle

→ After that they do cuddle and a lot— at football games, at the coffee shop, in the library, at campus movie nights, at parties— everywhere— they were inseperable before but now it's so bad and all their friends groan when they see it but they shrug it off like sorry you're a touchstarved Uni kid but we refuse to play by that narrative— like they're always spouting some bullshit that makes their friends groan even louder but laugh

→ He's huge on nicknames— mona lisa, bugs, kid (that one makes her so mad because Scott I'm a year younger than you and he just laughs), clutz, and— when the clock reads well after midnight and somehow they've gravitated towards each other and he can't help but pull her against his chest— baby (he blames it on the late hour and being tired and doesn't stop to realize that she adores it and him)

→ She's not as good at nicknames, only calling him Scotty or sir trips-a-lot because for as much as he tells her she's clumsy he sure as hell falls a lot

→ As nerdy as he is I refuse to believe that he also isn't a little Alt— later in life he goes on to pull a Robin Hood Esque heist so I have a feeling he also wore black jeans that were ripped at the knees and was cool enough to frequent his fair share of house parties— he may be clumsy and kinda dorky but he's still hot and got the invites

→ Of course he brings her despite how much she digs her heels in and tries to bribe him— but Scotty I saw the movie theatre was playing that movie you wanted to see don't you want to go— and he just laughs like we can go after class on Tuesday nice try

→ So she tries again— but Scotty I have a test on Monday I really think I should study— and he just shakes his head because we both know you know the material inside and out Bugs just c'mon it'll be fun I won't leave your side you know that

→ And he's right and she knows he's right and she's kind of pissed that he can read her that well but finally she caves because she is kind of craving a night of heavy bass and warm coolers and that's exactly what the night has in store for her— dancing with her best friend and drinking sugary vodka coolers and stumbling over him with his hands all over her and it hits her in that drunk moment that that's why she said yet— because when they go to parties together his arms are always around her, half dancing, half protecting her and she craves it

→ Her favourite part of the night is walking back to her dorm room with him in tow, hands crawling up her sides, respectfully but grabby, clingy, giggling as they stumble across the green, clutching at each other's sweaters and tripping a few times, often rolling down the hills and screaming at two am as they end up on top of one another

→ One night they had just stayed like that, sprawled under the stars for a few hours just talking— it was that night that he told her so many things she would have never thought— that he's scared of disappointing his parents and that sometimes he wonders if people actually like him and that he doesn't actually like physics all that much, that part of him wishes he had gone for something different, but then he takes that part back— he doesn't hate it he just fucked a test up and it's been eating at him

→ In turn she told him that before she met him she'd never even had a best friend, that her family is depending on her and her scholarship, that she's scared she won't be able to make a career out of art history, and that she's scared he's going to leave her—

→ And he had rolled over— which was a little hard considering she was on top of him— and leaned over her with a dopey grin but serious eyes, hoodie smelling of grass and cinnamon buns, and told her that she's a literal dummy if she could think that he would leave her and that he's the one whose waiting for her to realize that he's just an average guy whose jokes aren't all that great and that if anyone is in the position to do the leaving then it's her

→ She had just smacked his shoulder and told him to never say something so stupid again or she just might leave before pushing him back down and reclaiming her spot

→ Needless to say that was one of the best nights of her life and so from then she always says yes to his invites— he doesn't ask often anyway, half the time he's the one asking to stay in anyway for a marathon of Star Wars movies or monopoly or take out or all three

→ He geeks out and tries to explain all the movies to her despite the fact that Scotty we watch these once a month I understand the plot but he just pouts until she lets him explain anyway— she doesn't mind anyway, she just likes teasing him and seeing his neck turn red— besides it's cute when he goes on tangents and he does know some fascinating facts

→ She always wins at Monopoly— she isn't good at it at all but she always wins— enough said

→ He orders the orange chicken and spring rolls and green pepper beef and she orders the chicken fried rice and the dumplings and insists every time that she wants none of his but he orders extra anyway because you say that every time and then I blink and all mine is gone and she just simpers with a quiet you love me Scotty and he gets all flustered because wow she just said that and yeah you're right but if anyone asked I would deny it

→ God no he wouldn't

→ They're helplessly slow burn, both clueless as to the other's feelings but also not? It's more like they're okay with where they are and kinda want to kiss so bad but need that 5% extra reassurance and every time they get close they either get interupted or back out not wanting to ruin their friendship

→ But at this point everyone is basically like when are you two getting married

→ Like everyone— friends, random old couples at the coffee shop, his mom when she meets her at thanksgiving

→ Even her Russian Modernism professor told her that you and your boyfriend are really adorable and she had to stammer her way through explaining that no we aren't dating it's not like that and her professor had just passed her a sly smile and said not yet

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Part two?

#Scott Lang #Scott Lang x reader #Scott Lang x y/n #scott lang headcannons #ant man #ant man headcannons #scott lang headcanons #ant man headcanons #scott lang fluff #ant man fluff #ant man x reader #ant man x y/n #mcu headcanons #mcu headcannons #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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hualianff · 3 years ago

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Mi Amor(tentia) II 《I》

Every Sunday, XL personally delivers the ingredients to HC to restock after each week. Sometimes it’s during the morning before classes, HC inviting XL to stay and chat over coffee.

Other times, it’s in the middle of HC’s classes because XL’s only has so many chunks of free time to drop the ingredients off. XL usually keeps himself scarce as he helps himself to deposit the ingredients off on HC’s desk in his office.

On days XL is especially busy with classes, meetings with outside personnel and tending to the school’s greenhouse, his sixth-year teaching assistant, BY, will deliver ingredients to HC.

HC is easily the person XL enjoys spending time with the most. They have such fun conversations and HC makes XL feel so comfortable and listened to. Plus, HC is undeniably charming and handsome. XL thanks whatever higher power there is that someone as refined as HC took XL under his wing.

XL has learned and observed that HC is a professor that students either love or hate. Some perceive the potions professor as sketchy-looking and unfair in his grading. They take HC’s pushing as ridiculing, then complain about their poor marks after refusing to do the bare minimum of the assignment.

(Unbeknownst to HC, XL has taken it upon himself to passive aggressively warn these students from bad-mouthing HC in the hallways.)

Understandably, The first year students absolutely cower in HC’s presence. But from fourth year and up, HC is one of the most loved professors. When HC begins to passionately lecture with really big hand gestures and funny word combinations, the students can’t help but admire him with starry eyes.

(Student: “Hua Lao Shi, I don’t think ‘impossibleness’ is a word.”

HC: “It is now. As I was saying, don’t let the impossibleness of a goal influence your confidence in working towards it. You should not pay attention to whether something is possible or not, but rather focus on what steps you’re taking to find your answer.)

He’s clearly smart; intellectually based from the readings he assigns students from his own books; socially as his humor is always on point and he never misses a beat to tease his students; and emotionally because HC does not tolerate bullying in his house or his classroom. (Nor in the school, if he can help it.)

HC himself was bullied back in the muggle orphanage and during his time at Hogwarts. He knows what it feels like to wake up dreading going to classes and interacting with people who had nothing better to do than put others down.

So while HC can seem intimidating and blunt at first, he genuinely has his students’ best interests and wellbeing in mind. Witnessing how seriously HC takes his job as a teacher and trusted adult figure, XL’s feelings wrap around him like vines and squeeze him in their hold anytime he’s around HC.

XL’s never had a crush like this before.

Later in the semester, XL and HC are chosen as the professors to monitor the first years on their first trip to Hogsmeade. There is no doubt the transfiguration professor, SQX, took part in pulling some strings to make this happen for XL.

What no one knows is that the defense against the dark arts professor also played matchmaker. In an intense game of wizard's chest that unfortunately ended in his defeat, HX was forced to nominate HC to go with XL.

HC and XL make the best guides. XL is very enthusiastic in answering first years’ questions while HC is good at describing things through muggle terminology.

During his years at Hogwarts, XL has always loved the Hogsmeade trips and bought new candies from Honeydukes each time. In fact, he has a huge sweet tooth that he can never satisfy. Cue XL showing the students around Honeydukes and HC buying all of XL’s favorite goodies in the background.

When it’s time to move on to the next store, HC presents the bagged sweets to XL with a smile.

(XL, staring at the bagged sweets: “San Lang! You shouldn’t have!”

HC, grabbing XL’s hand and physically transferring the bag: “Nonsense. Gege deserves a reward for working so hard lately. Giving him a few candies is the least I can do.”

XL, clutching the bag tightly, fingers tingling from brushing against HC’s own: “If you insist. Many thanks, San Lang.”

XL snacks on some sweets for the rest of the trip. HC watches with a pleased eye.)

One day during finals week before winter break, XL falls ill with a terrible migraine. He’s been prone to migraines for a while now, which he’s used to enduring with medicine tablets that don’t do much to ease the pain.

XL manages to get through his morning classes. But by lunch time, his stomach pain worsened tenfold to which HC, who planned on having lunch with XL, convinced the herbology professor to take the rest of the day off.

“But my classes-” XL’s voice breaks off as he winces as another wave of nausea sweeps through his body. HC puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I will fill in for you,” HC assures. XL looks like he’s about to protest, however, the potions professor holds a finger up to his lips. “I can quickly brew something up for your pain. You like the smell of eucalyptus, right? I can add a faint scent to soothe your sinuses too.”

“San Lang…”

HC fixes XL with a pointed stare. XL’s face softens, eyes closing in defeat.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully. Without thinking, HC reaches over to cup XL’s cheek, sliding back to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear before massaging his temple.

“It’s not a problem. Gege needs rest.”

Luckily, HC doesn’t have afternoon classes lined up for the afternoon. Once XL has retired to his room to relax, HC settles behind XL’s desk as students filter in for class to take the final exam.

(Students who had potions that morning entering the herbology room: “Oh shit-”)

Between classes, HC completes the tasks written in XL’s planner he left during lunch. Unfortunately, HC has a certain TA who sidles up next to him out of nowhere, whispering inconspicuously, “I know you have the hots for Xie Lao Shi.”

HC, who had been marking scrolls, jolts in shock. His left hand streaks across the parchment, leaving a red trail in its wake.

(Student who receives his scroll with a huge red line: “The fuck???? Does this mean it’s wrong? Do I need to do it again?”)

HC ignores BY as he continues about his business. Except BY rolls a chair right beside the desk, her prying eyes making HC feel like he needs to cover more than just his right eye.

“Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar.”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady-”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady,” BY repeats in a nasally voice. HC tightly clenches the pen in his hand. BY, unfazed about testing HC’s patience, sighs pitifully. “Sorry, Hua Lao Shi. I swear, I’m only trying to help.”

“Help with what?” HC asks, attempting to remain oblivious. BY gives HC a deadpan. “Ok, fine. How could you possibly help?”

“Well, I heard that Xie Lao Shi might be crushing on another professor-” HC chokes on his spit. “-and maybe you two…”

BY taps the tips of her pointer fingers together.

“What!?” HC aggressively clears his throat. The scrolls are long forgotten now. “H-how do you know?”

“He told me,” BY reveals, smirking like the devil’s child.

“Who is it? Tell me more,” HC demands.

“Ah ah ah–you first.”

HC can’t believe this girl who has him cornered is the same timid third-year transfer student who couldn’t even look him in the eye. He bites his tongue, reluctant to discuss his person of interest with a seventeen-year-old. BY just sits there, looking unbothered as she examines her nails while waiting for HC to cave.

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before HC admits it.

“Fine. Yes, I like Xie Lao Shi.”

“What do you like about him?” BY asks immediately. HC itches to take points from Hufflepuff; what is this, an interrogation?

To no one’s surprise, HC spends the next half hour praising XL’s selling points (which are all of them) and subtly hinting how plans to ask the herbology professor out soon. BY unhelpfully inputs that HC needs to confess his feelings first.

“And then he needs to accept your feelings too,” she adds, much to HC’s irritation.

“I thought you were helping me?”

“I am,” BY smiles innocently. “By listening.”

“You’re not going to tell me who…?” HC falls silent, glaring at the last scroll he finished grading. A glance at his watch indicates there are fifteen minutes left before the final class of the day begins.

“Of course not. I don’t go around spilling professors’ secrets, especially Xie Lao Shi’s,” BY says. HC nods in resignation.

BY doesn’t tell HC shit in the end, yet somehow made him unload a few things about his feelings regarding XL. HC supposes she was right about the listening part.

Must be some sort of witchcraft. (HC tells himself that XL definitely would’ve laughed at this thought.)

Strangely, HC feels better after this little confessional session. Though he is incredibly curious as to who has caught XL’s eye in this school. HC’s heart painfully twists in on itself at the possibility that it’s anyone but him.

HC desperately hopes BY’s rule about not sharing secrets applies to him as well.

《III》

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #HP AU #cerdrabbles #TBC #Banyue is menace #she and HC are close though #XL simps club #no I still don’t support JKR

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ephemerlskies · 4 years ago

Text

constant craving 04 (final) | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: “drabble” series, best friends to lovers au, slight angst, FLUFF, bestfriend!au, unrequited love, smarter idiots but still idiots all the same

⇢ word count: 6.8k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol, excessive drinking (drink responsibly), pining, jungkook is an overdramatic baby, a surplus of feelings (i am disgusted with myself), one (1) fire hazard

⇢ summary: with the Friendiversary approaching quickly, both you and Jungkook have an array of trials to navigate through. and, as Seokjin gets caught in the crossfires, you must finally make a decision that will define how the rest of your life will unfold.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: wow.... so bitches really call this a drabble series then write a 6 thousand word finale... its me im bitches... anywho, i really love the way this played out!! jungkook had to hit the bottom to start rising to the top and it shows. also, the ending is like....... hehe well ill just let you all see for yourselves. enjoy my lovely readers! this wrapped up such a heartfelt series that is so dear to my heart. thank you all for the support for this! and i might whip up a few drabbles simply because i think this relationship is really cute hehe ok... happy reading! <3

part four: i love you too

Carrying that music box in his pocket felt like a well-deserved and all too grim reminder of what went down a few days ago. Sitting drunk yet again, though one would best describe Jungkook’s posture as more of a sloven pile of flesh and bones withering away on a bar stool, he searched for the wallet which was in one of his four pockets.

He reached for the wrong one. Instead of the faux leather skimming his skin, it was a solid wood corner pricking the pad of his index finger. It stung more than it should have. Perhaps he'd gotten a splinter, or the top layer of his skin was simply too raw from all the wear and tear of your fight. Jungkook wasn’t one to jump at such negligible shocks, but it sank him back into that night. It wasn't the wooden corner at all.

You loved him. You still love him.

That's what you said. That's what nearly put him on the floor instead of in his chair, and what had been preying on his mind as if he were no different than a helpless animal drowning his regrets in whiskey. And he knew he should have said it back.

Jungkook theorized ways to defy the cruel restraints of time, and if the universe would be so kind as to allow him to travel back to that day in middle school when he happened upon a scared, flush-faced student running so fast and panicked that they bumped into each other, just to be the one who said 'I love you' first. Or those genies and shooting stars and blessed fountains that supposedly granted wishes; he would pay no hesitation to plead with whatever deity would listen and permit his most prioritized desire.

The retrospective bargaining remained a ghost haunting just about every waking moment of his life. Though, he had not been quite sure if said ghost was some cosmic sent presence or simply his own guilt. If regret took on physical ramifications, then Jungkook would have been convinced that was why he felt as if his legs wouldn't have been able to carry him even if he tried.

If I could just go back to that night with the knowledge I know now, I would have hauled my ass to your house instead of that club and told you that my choice was made for me the moment I met you. Every other person I ended up with these past twelve years was simply a buffer for loving you. I had to prepare myself, because loving you was something entirely too tremendous for a boy still grappling with his own faulty speech pattern to assume.

I wish you knew that. I wish I didn’t stand there like an idiot and let you leave, thinking me some hero for finally letting this new guy Seokjin take the place I had always imagined being in. I wish I had just said that I love you.

I love you.

I love you, ___.

Jungkook’s vision resembled that of a smudged lens. However, there were no fingerprints on his eyes. The world had turned blurry and colorless, the latter he knew was not due to the sixth order of whiskey he let soak into his heart’s open wound.

A life of color was one of the many things that left when you did.

He didn’t know it then, but Jungkook was being fervently dramatic since it had not been more than seventy-two hours the last time he spoke to you. Thought to him, it was akin to being just short of death and taking another breath would have been an expense he wasn’t sufficiently funded to pay.

Whatever happened in the interim of him paying his tab and walking out onto the sidewalk must have landed somewhere in the blacked out stretches of his inebriated memory, since he was now staring at your contact gleaming on his phone bearing the semblance of one guardian angel.

It was so ingrained into his routine. Opening the app with the phone icon, clicking the ‘recent’ tab, and finding your name no further than three contacts down the list because he called you as if he had important things to tell you, though normally it was just to hear your voice or to tell you about what he had for lunch. And it nestled into his muscle memory as natural as it was for him to breathe or blink. Even when alcohol debilitated his driving, walking, and thinking, his body was drawn to seek a haven such as yourself. And he nearly pressed ‘call’.

Before the comfort of your voice could ring through to his phone, reality descended upon that reflex. Right now, you were probably with Seokjin, attending some pretentious art gallery for one of his colleagues.

It was just Jungkook and the night sky and the moon that he hoped you were gazing at too; it would be the only connection to you as of now. The moon, a parcel for the most longing gazes.

There are stories where the two protagonists get it right. This was not that story. That reality stung more than the residual burn of whiskey clinging along his throat.

Both you and Jungkook made every wrong decision possible. From the moment you subjected yourself to exploiting the veneer of being a ‘good friend’ to disguise any true feelings that might have taken light, to the moment Jungkook was presented with all the excruciatingly obvious signs that you were in love with him, but was simply too inept to notice, to the both of you neglecting any urge threatening the bounds of platonic. Any path that would have steered to a destination where you two would get that happy ending was conveniently untaken.

And you had a long journey riddled with heartbreak after heartbreak to prove it.

He traded his phone with that wooden music box, scuffing the soles of his shoe as he walked back home, hoping he’d be able to give the gift to you on your Friendiversary.

-----

Your pain was still raw. In this way, you had not considered, or rather avoided the idea of tending to such delicate wounds. The days leading up to the infamous anniversary had been spent hoping you would organically heal enough to allow the presence of Jungkook while denying another reopening in your wound.

You had been juggling a not so thrilling number of conflicts the three days preceding that self-acclaimed national holiday.

One, Seokjin and his bottomless supply of invitations that you felt too obligated to refuse. He had such a life packed with plans which is more than you could have said for Jungkook. He, most likely, busied himself with promoting ranks in some obscenely violent video game. Two, a mutual friend of yours had told you Seokjin was fixing to make your relationship official this coming Friday, and you didn’t want to admit the lackluster reaction upon hearing the news was equivalent to receiving a C on a test. It wasn't the worst grade to receive, but you knew there would always be something better than adequacy. Not satisfying enough nor disappointing enough to be dealt with without bending a few expectations. And three, all you really wanted, the only agent of excitability (both good and bad) that diluted the festering numbness in your heart just a tad more, was thinking about seeing Jungkook on your Friendiversary.

But with that excitement, was its equally worrying constituent: whether or not you would be able see Jungkook that day without cracking under pressure.

Things weren’t exactly attuned between the two of you. Your emotional stature had never been more unsynchronized and offkey with Jungkook’s, so, forcing a celebratory movie or dinner would be no different than adding cornstarch to the already thick tension.

“___? Are you listening?” Everything Seokjin had just been droning on about filtered in and out without a single word being absorbed, and you could have pretended this wasn't the case but stress had apprehended caring enough to lie.

“Sorry… No, I wasn't. I’m just stressed is all.” Since that was only a half lie, self-admonition had not yet taken permanent residency whenever you would look at Seokjin’s eyes offering nothing but genuine tact.

“Oh, sorry to hear! Are you okay? Anything you wanna talk about?” That, and the soft press of his hand over yours had swallowed you into a perpetual, guilty cycle of comparing two incomparable people.

Seokjin was always like this. Serving a gentle smile and honest ears as a vessel of calmness during whatever calamity you were grappling. It was safe knowing if you fell, you’d have a comfortable cushion to soften the impact. He was mindful with his words and had the intelligence to articulate them with impressive eloquence. You were more likely to see pigs fly than to see him stutter. He had a diverse group of friends and walked a steady path to a financially secure life. And you started to wonder what else one would need in a partner? Any sensible person would do much more than you had to snag someone like Seokjin, as handsome as he was kind and respectful. He seemed to have everything Jungkook lacked, including mutual feelings for you.

It would have been entirely too easy to pick him, as if there was a ‘Seokjin’ button and a ‘Jungkook’ button and you could press Seokjin’s on a whim. If choosing him would have meant miraculous nullification of all your very real and very unremitting feelings for that idiot you called your best friend, then you would have done it in a heartbeat.

There wasn't a 'Seokjin' button or a 'Jungkook' button, nor was there a button that would wondrously redistribute your feelings towards Seokjin.

And then there was Jungkook. Always in the back of your mind when he wasn't tenanting the focus of it.

He was never predictable in the ways that mattered. It was just as difficult figuring out his next move as figuring out whether this trait was exciting or exhausting.

Though, this had not been to say you didn’t know him well; in fact, all his habits and preferences and pet peeves could be bound into a book, written by you, and it would be so accurate anyone who read it would think it was an autobiography. He knew you to the same caliber. Where Seokjin would ask what was wrong, Jungkook wouldn’t need to. He already learned your behavior to know to say something along the lines of ‘tell me what’s wrong when you're ready, we can watch your favorite movie or swing by that Chinese place with those great fried dumplings in the meantime’. And on more favorable occasions, he'd say nothing and simply wrap you in his arms and let his shirt become a delta for your tears.

To anyone else, that might sound entirely too frank and perhaps a bit dismissive to be comforting, but to you it was the exact cure for each affliction. To never need explanations that would validate your feelings because Jungkook saw to that right when he took notice; to never manufacture fake smiles through failed attempts at cheering you up since, of course, he knew exactly what to do to vegetate joy in your heart and earn a smile from years and years —and years— of practice. It had almost driven you mad, thinking about how he knew from a shift in your brow what you were feeling and yet, somehow, never realized how deeply in love you were.

All the while, the moment you were convinced you had been versed fluently in his every move, he would pawn another blindsight that would leave you breathless and amazed all the same. Jungkook always had concealed tricks up his sleeve, and life was anything but repetitive with him. You would more often than not find yourself struggling to relearn language and existing itself just to keep up with him. How exactly he managed to wield such diametric facets of being was an enigma beyond the reasoning of this universe.To feel like home, somewhere you belonged outside of your own body, and a daring voyage into a completely new world all at once must have meant he was some sort of Godsend. Only angels could have sculpted a soul so magnetizing, you assumed.

Seokjin was an umbrella, shielding you on some arcane journey under an unforgiving rainfall. Your shoes kept dry and your hair intact.

And if he was the umbrella, then Jungkook was the rain. Falling everywhere and all at once, so that you couldn't help but let yourself be saturated in his entire, vibrant being. And who’s to say letting such a water fall against your skin was a bad thing? Sometimes rain is cleaning, gentle even. They bear fruits as beautiful as rainbows that guide you to an unnamed treasure.

Your treasure, however, had a name.

Jungkook calling.

"___? Hello? You in there?" Seokjin waved his hand in front of your face mostly in a jesting manner, but part of him felt like your eyes were blinded by something held in your heart. If he hadn’t pulled you back into reality, you might have been lost forever.

“I'm just…” Your attention had abandoned this conversation the second his name gave light to your screen. “Sorry, um…”

“It's okay, you can take the call. I’ll be in the kitchen making us some coffee.”

If you were to thank him profusely, it would have been far too obvious how much you missed seeing his name among your notifications, and most likely expose how often you spent thinking of Jungkook while you were supposed to be enthralled with Seokjin. So, you just nodded and answered the phone.

Nodding and answering, as though that didn't feel like taking a breath of clean air after hours of swimming through muddied waters.

“Hello? ___?”

“Jungkook.” It took you longer than usual to form a response and what was assembled had been a half-baked utterance just to let him know you were on the other side of the phone, hearing his voice and feeling a surge of energy course through your veins like he was some delicious narcotic filling life into you after only a week without him.

“___.” Jungkook was in his own debt of words as well. The exchange halted for a few seconds, a jaded breathing cutting the cracked static.

“Look-”

“Hey so-”

Any hope that you had finally caught up to the same page as Jungkook was lost. Now, it seemed you two were reading entirely different books.

“You go.” You said after another dreadful pause. He was the one who called, so he should be the one carrying the burden of navigating through this deafening tension.

“Well, I- uh… I… Well, you see I was just, um, wondering…” Jungkook’s heart must have shut off. That would explain why even the most rudimentary of words felt closer to a foreign language. Or, why he was making conscious efforts to counteract the threat of his nearly dormant lisp.

His brain was drained dry of any blood, his inner mechanisms were shutting down. Even without the alcoholic filter catching words and common sense in its web, Jungkook felt himself fall into an overactive state of dumbfoundedness. Sobriety only a cataract for his emotional override.

“Our friendiversary?”

“I’m sorry, I did not understand literally anything you just said.”

“Me neither.”

The charming and familiar laugh that spilled through the speaker reminded you that Jungkook was in fact a real person. Not some figmented embodiment of every lost and unrequited and tortuous feeling you had been suppressing for twelve years. Jungkook was real, his laugh and everything else you loved about him were all so incredibly real. And more importantly, the pure joy you felt was real; a permanent serialization of his. Your smiles and his smiles had always surfaced in tandem.

Now, you both were laughing. Neither were warranted by his messy attempt at forming a coherent sentence. The weight of discomfort shedding from your shoulders had been partnered with a slew of relieved chuckles.

“Anyway, um. I- I still wanna see you on our Friendiversary. Or, at least give you your gift.” Admitting that was terrifying but the thought of breaking the consecutive streak of eleven years simply because he was too much of a coward to admit he wanted to see you dizzied him. However, the thought of spending your friendiversary alone terrified him beyond comprehension. So, he thought not about that as a possibility; he carved an opening to his heart in hope you wouldn’t send sharp thorns of rejection into it.

“Yeah, I, uh. I still wanna see you too. I mean, it is a national holiday. We gotta have holiday spirit, right?” You were forcing playful banter, it felt like lemon juice scouring cuts on your tongue, but you were so desperate to make things between you two feel normal.

“You’re right! So, um… You can come over tomorrow night. I’ll set up a surprise or whatever.” He seemed to have fallen back into stride with pre-confession Jungkook. Trying to keep up with him now would just exhaust you of all your means, so you chose to save the rest for tomorrow night. Even if that meant watching him walk away to some unforeseeable finish line; his back, the last part of him you’d see until you could finally collect your broken pieces and start walking as well.

“Sounds good! I’ll, um, see you then.”

“See you, ___.”

You had no idea, and how could you, that Jungkook was now wiping small clusters of wetness from the bed of his eyelids. Why he thought you, the one person that remained a constant in his life, would say no to him over one fight (of many) made for quite the spill of tears. But if you did know, you would have told him you felt like crying too.

"Hey! How did everything go?" You were so immersed in your virtual conversation with Jungkook you nearly forgot the person you were presently with. The train of guilt wouldn't stop for your pathetic attempts at disembarking.

"Oh! Thanks for the coffee." You sipped, and it had just been a stall to blink away the tears that were straying beyond your will of concealment. "It went good. We're still celebrating our Friendiversary."

"Friendiversary?" Seokjin's light chuckle veiled his tense concern.

"Yeah... Uh, it's just this thing we do to celebrate our friendship. The day we met."

"Oh... that's..." His eyes were scaling the rim of his mug.

"That's what, Seokjin?" You were stern, knowing well enough it was born of far more than platonic defensiveness. And you had no right to be the one prosecuting him since you clearly had more to hide than meets the eye.

"I mean, it's just interesting how dedicated you are to an anniversary with a friend." Seokjin wielded that soft-spoken voice which made it difficult to be anything but patient with him. And from the tone of it, he seemed to have no ill intentions with that statement, though it had not been an entirely innocent observation. To you, however, it felt like he might as well have set you on fire.

"Interesting? What is that supposed to even mean? I mean, we've been friends for twelve years. I- I don't know why people are always so judgmental." Your arms crossed over your chest, hoping he would take notice how much his comment slighted you. If asked, you would have insisted you would have been this worked up over any of your friends. Though you knew well enough this was untrue, and it made you feel even worse acting as though Seokjin was the one at fault here.

"I'm sorry. I'm not judging you, really. I just... I just have never heard of two friends doing something like that so religiously."

You sighed out all your anger, knowing the way you snapped at him was merely misdirected frustration. "No, I'm sorry. I know it's kinda weird."

"Look, I get it. You guys are close. But, ___, you talk about him so much that half, no, over half of your stories include him. We've been dating for, what, barely a week now, and I know more about this Jungkook guy than I know about you, and I haven't even met him."

Lips parted, ready to dispatch another slew of defenses to refute all the things he said. It was more disappointing than it was shocking to find nothing but a long sigh emerging. Because he was right. Jungkook has been interwoven so thoroughly in your last twelve years that if you only told the stories without him in it, then it would be the least accurate and nondescript retelling of your life. Fragments of an unfinished novel. It would miss the most crucial pieces, entire chapters, of your story.

You would have been presenting a shell of you, hollow and one dimensional. All the inner parts of you, the lungs and veins and tissue that gave you life and made you whole belonged solely with Jungkook.

That's why you sat there, blank faced, foolishly waiting for the words that wouldn't come to your aid because you had no place to contend with him.

"Seokjin... I'm with you..." It's all that would come up your throat, and it felt like acid. You were sure it burned his ears when he heard them more than it had your throat.

It hadn’t even been partially true. Physically you were with him, but in your head you were sitting on your couch with Jungkook, consuming a concerning amount of junk food while chatting through a movie used more as background noise than entertainment.

"Okay. Does that mean you don't have feelings for him?"

"Well..."

"Can you confidently say you could replace all the time you spend with him with time you would spend with me?" Seokjin must have noticed your returning tears because he loosened his verbal grip from your throat. To you, it sounded like he was pacifying you for some horrible sin, to anyone else it sounded as though he was simply trying to dredge up feelings that would disrupt the chance of a relationship between you and him. "___, I like you. I really do, but in all honesty, I'm looking for something serious. I think we would be great together, but only if you don't have any feelings left for him."

"Seokjin..." You regretted looking at him.

Sweetness was strewn in his eyes and gentle smile. Seokjin was softer than cotton, which made the real threat, the rough sandpaper wearing away skin and bones, you. It made it all the more painful to know you had been keeping everything you felt for Jungkook hidden from Seokjin. Though, if one would have presented an objective point of view, your feelings were far from secretive. And the most brutal honesty was that you knew feelings for Seokjin were never in your attainability. Not the way they always had been for Jungkook.

He was the wrong person who crossed paths with you at the right moment. A mere convenience. And you knew he deserved much more than what you had to offer.

"And maybe I'm being an idiot, but I like you too much to give you some ultimatum which would put you in such an unfair position. So, I'll let you think this over." His compassion felt more like a sharp blow to your chest. “No pressure.”

If he hadn’t smiled like he did, then you would have broken up with him right then and there. It was not possible to rip away such tender hope away from a smile so sweet.

"I'm sorry." You meant the remorse behind those words and it still hadn’t amounted to a proper consolation. "I'm sorry. I guess... I guess I'll go... Seokjin?”

“Yes?” He replied quickly, and you knew only a pace that rapid was one brought on by a sliver of faith that you might have made your decision right then.

“You’re a really great person. You deserve the world.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t give him what he wanted. And as bitter and unkind as that might have felt at the moment, it was the only bit of truth and relent you could have offered him.

-----

In your bed, sleep became somewhat of an abstract desire. You knew your rest was deprived from you when the digital clock on your bedside told you it was six hours past the time you'd normally fall asleep. It was because you really did have a choice to make now.

To choose Seokjin, and know you'd collapse in the safety of his reciprocated affection, though haunted by how you would never feel the fullest extent of content. And you would live with that until resentment and distance wedged irreversible damage in your relationship.

Or, to choose Jungkook, which would catapult you into a depth so dark and tenuous that you would have no idea whether you'd meet gentle snow or hard, deadly concrete when you landed. And maybe you'd never land at all; maybe you would be caught in a state of falling down and down forever, until your beating heart eventually stilled.

Which one was worth it? Which were you willing to risk? These were the questions that kept you awake.

The hours leading to your undisclosed celebration events with Jungkook ceased being actual points of your existence and merely obstructions that you had to plow through in order to arrive at some conclusive moment. Something that might give you an answer to all your questions. Something that might have released you from devotedly checking your phone for a Jungkook patented text or call.

You were turning into a half-being. Someone who could only inhale a full breath, laugh an intentional laugh, and sleep a soundless sleep when their other half was there.

If you thought being in love with Jungkook for your entire friendship was pathetic, then you couldn’t fathom what you had become now.

Standing in front of his door, the same one you lugged him to that night he was too drunk to balance on his feet, when you willingly carried all the weight he couldn’t, when your lips became acquainted and comfortable with his within half a beat, you felt as if this chunk of wood was mocking you. A partition barricading you from Jungkook. Your Jungkook. The man you always felt you were on the outskirts of, with only a window to peer into his unreadable mind. And that was enough for you ―until now.

Now you were going to knock on that door with your hand, make him open it for you, and walk into his home. You would be the one to step foot inside of the very structure that only solicited closed doors and immovable walls and fogged windows. And you would leave behind your timidity, every feeling and urge that left you with disappointing compromises for the sake of maintaining this friendship.

You would be selfish, and he would finally feel a mere glimpse of what you have always felt for the best and worst of your life.

Even when he opened the door, arming a smile that actively disarmed you, this home of his was yours to conquer. This was your time to act for you alone, despite how many smiles he sent your way. You had not any weapons or shields or an infantry for a clutch. You just had your heart and all the love it carried.

“Hey! ___, you look… You look great.” There was no real incentive for him to censor how he truly thought you looked. Immeasurably beautiful. It was simply his own nerves impeding on the feelings that were too intense to express without it being followed by an entire soliloquy of I love you’s.

“Thanks... You too...” You could almost feel the words brimming in your and Jungkook’s mouth, carrying such raw emotions and longing intentions.

"I'm really glad that- Jungkook..." Walking into his house punctuated what you were about to say.

His living room was strewn with enough candles to steal the last of your words and to consider his house a fire hazard. That didn't negate this lovely sea of lights to be anything but romantic and thoughtful. A bit cluttered, and not at all perfect, but it must have taken Jungkook hours to set up every wax column. The thoughtfulness of this gesture would have astonished you had it not been for the consistency of Jungkook snatching your breath and words away whenever he tried. It was antithetical, the way you expected his surprises. Yet, always surprised all the same.

Unpredictable, completely surrounding you just like the rain.

"I had to turn off my fire detector but... Worth it." Jungkook considered the number of mishaps that could have dampened any chance of this being romantic.

A candle could tip over and set his entire place ablaze, the wax could leak onto his carpet and tabletops, damaging his furniture and savings for replacements, you and he could have suffocated from all the fumes steaming from the wick. But if that look on your face didn't feel like the only bit of revival to keep his heart's steady beating, if your eyes didn’t look as though it was the only set of eyes that shed beauty into this world then he wouldn't have used up exactly three lighters to pull this stunt. But it did, and he felt warmth and color return to every inch of his body.

He would have used hundreds of lighters to ignite thousands of candles if that meant an ounce of happiness from you. He wanted to say that, but he knew the candles said it for him.

The spectacle almost made you forget why you were here in the first place. It almost made you forget the resolve you managed to gather before entering. And then he said your name.

"___."

The letters flowing from his lips as if they could only be pronounced by his tongue. It sounded so good. So good, that if anyone else were to say it then it wouldn't have been your name at all. It would have sounded wrong, sullied. And it wasn't supplied by neat articulation, this new belonging of your name in his mouth. The need for him to sculpt your name into this world was more than that. "I will never forgive myself if I don't get this out while I still can."

"Jungkook, what is all this?" You didn't know why you felt a collection of tears brimming along your eyes, but you didn't care to figure it out. Perhaps you felt an influx of feelings, an abundance too heavy for your body to seal within the confines of your emotional seams, so they overflowed in the form of tears. This certainly had not been the first time you cried over Jungkook, but you had never cried over him like this.

"___, I love you!" Jungkook said loudly. It was just you and him who could hear, but it felt as though he wanted the entire world to know.

"What? I- You- What?" Your lack of verbal poise was indicative of your love for him once again taking the reins of your mind and heart. Words were a luxury you couldn't afford as of now. You just had to feel everything you were feeling until the rainstorm settled. The hope that he would spare you some remnants of fluency was far along, and you weren't too sure if what Jungkook was about to say would be gentle enough to leave you with any words at all.

"I love you. I don't know why I didn't know it sooner. Or maybe, I- Maybe I did know?" Jungkook sighed at his own ineloquence. "I'm stupid! That's it. That's my only excuse. I'm so stupid. The way I felt about you, the way I still feel about you, is something I thought all best friends had. I thought everyone felt like the moments they weren't spending with their best friends just felt like filler moments. Like, every day I spent without you was just a span of time I had to wait out until I see you again. Like every damn moment of my life is spent waiting for you. And if I don't end up with you then... then I'll never stop waiting."

"Jungkook, I-" He prevailed in surprising you, taking words and breath and thoughts all at once.

"And, I'm that stupid! I really thought all best friends had those moments when they stare at you, and- and-" Now, you weren't the only one with wet eyes and cheeks. "And I just feel like looking at you and being with you just makes me better. It makes me a better person, or something, and it makes me feel like... Like I'll never get hurt again. And even if I do get hurt, I know it's you I want to be there. I know that whenever something bad happens to you, or when you feel like crying or when you're happy or angry or anything that I want to be the one who gets to be by your side. When I look at you, all I want is to love you. To love all your pain away."

"You really mean that?"

"Yes! God, I love you." You didn't notice how it happened, but Jungkook's arms became a shield around you. Inside his arms you were indestructible. Your hands pressed against his cheeks, memorizing the plush, smooth skin. The world could hurl all the fire and ice it had, but it wouldn’t matter. "___, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I'm sorry that in that period, I hurt you. Please, forgive me. I love you, and I want to be with you."

"Of course, I forgive you. I... I can't believe this." Hearing everything you always wanted from him was drastically different when it was actually unfolding. It was a million times more than any hope or dream you used as a salve for your longing. It was everything.

"Maybe it took so long because I was afraid. Because the idea of loving you was something I wasn't ready for. Even though I did love you, God, who was I to take on something as fragile and crucial as loving you. I know I probably would have messed it up. And, fuck, maybe I'm messing it up right now. But I just needed it to be perfect. I needed loving you to be perfect because I don't want to give you anything less than that."

"You were always enough for me, Jungkook. More than enough. You were and are everything to me" His arms that pressed you further into him expressed how happy that made him.

"But I'm not perfect yet. I might mess up... A lot. No, I'll definitely mess up. I don't know if I can offer you perfect yet. But I do know that through everything I have never stopped loving you and I will never stop loving you."

"Jungkook... I don't know what to say." Your thumb grazed a falling tear from his face. Jungkook had not cried often in front of you; and you could tally up the amount of times he had on your fingers alone. But when he did, it was still as beautiful as when he was smiling or laughing or even scowling.

"You could say you love me back." You did. You loved him, his smile that was currently on a mission to melt your heart, his arms that carried both the good and bad parts of you, his wit that you always relished in. All the reasons to love him were an endless flowing river. If you were lucky enough, you would catch a glimpse of each beautiful current and be able to give name to the gravity that pulled you into him.

"I love you too, you idiot." The last word caught in your throat because your lips were being kissed instead.

His lips. Warm and exciting, allotting your being with an infinite devotion of his. And it was more than you could have ever hoped for.

It felt like fire. Like a grove of candles encapsulating the origin of heat. You and Jungkook, holding each other so close, you could have become one. Hot and all-consuming of anything in its path. If one stood too close, they would suffer scorching embers that stray from the orange pyres. Seokjin, Irene, and any other unassuming casualty that had the misfortune of stepping between the two of you, harboring the burn scars to remind them of what fumed from their interference.

Every element concocting between you and him was that of a bright flame, cremating pure metals and wet woods and thick forests alike.

You were in his home. His arms and lips and hands told you it was your home as well. All that time spent wondering why you could never slip inside before was never because he didn't want to let you in. And the thing is, you never thought to knock until now. You sat outside in a silenced hope that he would voluntarily open that door for you. But unknown to you, Jungkook seemed to be waiting as well. Waiting in a large room with empty spaces where you belonged and where he kept reserved for your residence alone.

He waited even when he wasn't quite sure of who he was waiting for, or if you would ever actually spill your warmth into his home. He waited until his fingers turned to ice and his eyes fell to exhaustion, for you to walk inside.

"So, you're like my boyfriend now?" Your voice brushed against his smiling lips.

"Yeah, your boyfriend, or whatever."

"You know this means you have to top next year's friendiversary. And I mean, all these candles? That's gonna be tough." It could have counted as sensory overload, the feeling of his palms flush against your back, the tip of his nose grazing yours, the bright array of candles illuminating the room. But you were so, incredibly cold without him that this felt like solace to you.

"When have I ever disappointed you?" Jungkook regretted what came out of his mouth too late to stop himself from saying it.

"Oh, I couldn't count the amount of times on my fingers alone! What about that time you forgot our chains for the tires on our trip to the mountains? We almost died." His eye roll only encouraged you to continue. Maybe, if you were lucky, he'd equip that cute pout whenever he wanted his way. "Or what about when you swore you brought water, but three miles in on our hike you had that look on your face. You know I reminded you to get water and you swore you did. Or what about-"

"Okay! I get it! I fuck up, jeez." He scrunched his nose, his eyes waning into crescents courtesy of that grin of his. You counted the number of wrinkles along the bridge of his nose as you always did, though you had acquired an expertise in the geography of his face. Each line and angle and ridge were now and eternally yours to restudy and marvel. "Hey, uh, almost forgot."

He reached into his front left pocket. "I, um, kept carrying it around thinking I'd see you somewhere. Kinda dumb right?"

"Not dumb." You opened the tiny box, wound the handle until the spring felt tight and you could see the throngs prick the textured wheel, and it was one of those moments where you didn't see a gift in your hand. You simply saw his thought and sentiment manifested as a box of wood that sung a tune.

All the things Jungkook wanted to give you, the sun and the moon and the entire universe were not his to give. So for now, he settled for this music box and there would be a day when he would collect each celestial being and place them right into your hands. Maybe then, he would feel less of a debt for possessing such a love like yours.

"This is... I love it. Thank you, Jungkook." You smiled, but it was motivated in the hopes he would smile back. You thought he deserved that much, at least. And he did.

"Sooooo... Can I tell Seokjin that you're actually in love with me and that he sucks ba-"

"Um, absolutely not!" As always, his crudeness and slight inability to remain mature for too long only wedged you deeper in love.

So, terribly in love. Your state of constant craving for Jeon Jungkook had been left barren. That desolate, solitary province was no longer yours to take residence in.

You had a home now. And you had no need to crave Jungkook anymore. He was right here, holding you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

a/n: okay, cry with me.... these two.... such hopeless saps for each other i'm here for it. final destination is simp city... also (spoiler) it is completely canon that irene and seokjin bond over their mutual heartbreaks and get to smitten hehehe. anyway, my loves i hope you enjoyed this finale as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! it was a short but heartfelt journey with these two and i will miss their idiocy sm. thank u for your endless support i love u all!!! <3

#bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts writing #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook bestfriend!au #jungkook angst #bts series #jungkook bestfriendstolovers!au #jungkook series #constant craving #rubycoast

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anbudrky2021 · 4 years ago

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Ch 5: Three Days

The 𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔢 Sound of 𝒯𝒽𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 │ 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕆𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕠𝕟

No smut warning in this one. Next one there will be :) Please click here for series description and TWs. 💕

I woke up to the sound of Nat at my door. She let herself in and sat down comfortably on the edge of my bed. “Hey sleepyhead, you missed breakfast..” she handed me a muffin.

“Oh,” I sat up, groggy and confused. “I must have slept through the alarm,” I noted, looking at my phone.

“That’s ok. Wanda is waiting in the lab with Shuri when you’re ready.” She gave me a kind smile. I smiled back. More tests. Like a lab rat.

“You’re not a rat,” Natasha laughed. “You’re a human going through something strange. We’ll figure it out.”

I laughed as well, “Ok. I am going to get up.” I said, finishing my muffin and moving the bedding. I got up and around, brushing my hair and teeth; I changed into some leggings and a t-shirt. I slid on my sneakers and sighed. “Alright. I’m ready.” I noticed Natasha was looking at her phone, confused. “Everything ok?” I asked observantly.

“Yeah, just a message from Tony I don’t understand.” She rolled her eyes and placed her phone in her pocket.

I bet it’s about Thor’s mission to observe Bucky. I scoffed at my own thought.

“No it’s about something else,” Nat replied, smiling softly.

“I really need to get this fixed,” I groaned.

We reached the lab in time to run into Thor wandering out of the wing. “Ladies,” he nodded his head in politeness, but continued walking without stopping. I blushed.

I counted his steps as he walked away, hoping it would keep me from projecting any thought I might have.

We entered the main area and saw Shuri in another room, through the glass. She waved at us to come to her. We walked together to the room and sat down in the chairs provided.

“So I was up...all night,” she began, looking somewhat exhausted but excited at the same time. “I have some ideas and Wanda volunteered to be like...”

“The control group,” Wanda interjected. I jumped at her voice, not realizing she had been in the room.

“So I am the experimental group?” I said, a little nervous.

“Yes, but you knew that already.” Shuri rolled her eyes and continued. “I have some tests I have already started with Wanda and would like to conduct with you, to see the difference in the firing of neurons, etc.”

“Ok...” I stared at her.

“Basically we’re going to compare her brain activity to yours, since she’s the closest example of someone who can use your same powers.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s another place to start..” she sighed.

I don’t want to be compared to Wanda. I do that myself enough. As soon as I thought it, I regretted it; I didn’t need Wanda and Nat to go on their ‘you’re beautiful as you are’ crusade. But nobody responded. Either I was being ignored or I hadn’t projected.

After about 15 minutes of setting up, a few projections, and some frustration, we were ready to start the first test.

Shuri had created a slideshow of different scenes, people, and words. Each of them had a purpose, according to her, and could hopefully help her figure out triggers or stressors within me and Wanda. Wanda had already completed hers.

“Ready?” Shuri asked. “Remember, some of these may be...upsetting or emotionally jarring. So let me or Nat know if we need to stop.”

Nat was beside me in the room, whereas Wanda and Shuri were on the other side of the glass, next to the computer.

“Ready as ever I guess...” I took a deep breath and watched the screen change.

The first few were almost funny; a cow, a dog, basic things.

The next few were more interesting; the compound, a field, the jet, knives

The knives made me uncomfortable but I tried to stay calm.

“The knives set off a different part of your brain,” Wanda said through the glass. Shuri shot her a look. “I wasn’t supposed to say that; sorry!” Her eyes were wide and animated. She was adorable sometimes.

Scott Lang, Tony, Bruce, T’Challa, Shuri scrolled on the screen, one at a time.

Wanda, Natasha, Clint, Thor

My heart was starting to race and I was not comfortable.

Steve, Pietro, Vis, Bucky

I didn’t move, I didn’t think, I didn’t say anything. Bucky wasn’t on the screen; he was in the next room with Wanda and Shuri.

“Can you leave,” I heard Shuri say, “Thor was looking for you anyway. Go find him.” She wafted him away. He made a point to look at me and smile. I didn’t smile back, only turned my head back to the screen.

Peter

“Can I take a break please?” I asked immediately.

“Uh, sure...” Shuri looked at Nat and nodded. Nat helped me remove the different testing measures and I left the room quickly. I took deep breaths but I felt like I was dying.

Wanda came out of her room and walked toward me. “Hey, you did a great job...” she soothed me, taking me into her arms. “You were so good.” She rocked me a little, allowing for me to calm down more. I was able to take a deep breath and collect myself.

“Sorry. I know the point is to identify brain...stuff...but that was a lot for me.” I shook my head with disappointment in myself.

“It’s understandable, Y/N, you’ve been through a lot and you haven’t necessarily had closure...” she rubbed my arm. “Are you ready to come back?” She pointed at the door.

“Yeah.” I took another breath. Ready to leave is more like it.

“Quitting isn’t an option today,” Wanda retorted.

I laughed but knew she was right.

We did some more tests for a few hours. Some emotional, some physical, some logic-based. By noon, Wanda and I were exhausted in every aspect of the word. Shuri let us leave but Nat stayed behind to help her work on the test results to find any patterns or relevance.

Wanda and I chose to take a walk on the Palace grounds to get some fresh air and sunshine.

“That was...a lot...” she said softly. It was hard on her, too. After losing her brother and her mom and dad... “I didn’t realize how much I missed Pietro..” she sniffled, wiping her face on her sleeve.

“Yeah, it was...” I rubbed her back as we walked.

We walked in silence for a while. We got to see some kids playing, a dog wandering around, and Steve down in a field with Bucky, sparring we supposed.

I did not mention the tight feeling in my chest when I saw Bucky fighting; I just walked and counted my steps.

“Y/N, why have you been projecting numbers?” She asked as we reentered the Palace.

“What?”

“Well it’s always a different pace, but it’s always numbers.” She looked at me quizzically.

“Oh, well I am trying to count footsteps instead of letting my thoughts project. I guess I am projecting the counting...” I laughed a little.

She smiled. “You’re so creative, you know that?” I smiled back at her as we parted ways. I headed for my room.

By dinner time, I was starving. I walked out of my room and headed to the dinning area.

“Y/N, wait up!” Steve called after me. I turned and waited for him. “How did today go?” He asked, thoughtfully.

“It was tough but hopefully worth something.” I gave him a forced smile.

“Bucky told me he walked in on you guys working. He felt bad about it, you know...” he looked at me wearily.

“I don’t care,” I smiled at him, pretending to not care even though I wanted to punch him for mentioning Bucky.

“Hey! Please don’t punch me,” he feigned fright by putting his hands up in surrender.

“Steve. I just-” I inhaled deeply. “I think about Bucky every day. I think about what happened all the time. I don’t want to think about him or it any more than I need to...” I trailed off. “Thank you for relaying that, but I don’t have the capacity to care about what Bucky feels.”

Steve nodded with understanding. “I gotcha.”

We walked into the dining room. Where, of course, Bucky was seated.

Goddamn it. This mother fucker.

Everyone looked at me. I blushed. Of course I projected that. I counted my steps as I walked to my seat, between Steve and Wanda.

Natasha sat across from me, next to Thor and Shuri. Bucky was on the other side of Steve, out of my sight at least.

As I ate, I counted my bites of food. I counted the number of rolls on the table. I counted the number of freckles on Steve’s arm. Anything to distract myself.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. Quit with the counting!” Bucky sat his fork down harshly. “Just tell me what you’re thinking so you don’t have to distract yourself and annoy everyone!” He looked around and past Steve, right at me.

Everyone was staring at us. “Buck, I didn’t hear anything...” Steve whispered to Bucky.

“Neither did I...” Nat interjected.

“So only Bucky heard the projection?” Shuri asked, interested.

“No,” Thor’s voice now echoed above theirs. “I heard it, too. I just assumed everyone did and I’m not as ass.” He glared at Bucky.

I was blushing and completely confused. I stood up and walked off without a word.

I heard large steps behind me but ignored them until my wrist was caught by a large hand.

“Y/N, are you ok? That was futile. Bucky was out of line.” Thor looked concerned.

“I’m fine. Please let me go. I’m just so tired.” I started to tear up. My mind was overwhelmed and my emotions were completely out of sorts. I needed my mommy. Thor let go of my wrist and nodded. “Do you want company? I can sit and talk or-“

“No. Thank you. I just need time. I’m going to go...Um, I’m going visit my mom..” I turned on my heel and left him behind.

I walked for about 30 minutes in one direction before approaching the cemetery. I took a deep breath for calmness and then entered the lot.

I walked among the rows, feeling more and more nauseous the closer I got to her. Finally, I saw her stone.

T’Challa had a special marble figurine commissioned for her. It was on top of her headstone. It was beautiful and exuded her brilliance tenfold. I smiled as I fell to my knees in front of it.

The sobs that left me the moment my knees hit the grass were earth-moving. I could feel my body tensing and writhing as my tears fell. My shoulders heaved with every cry. I slowly drifted closer to the ground until I was laying completely on top of her grave. My tears watered her grass.

I don’t know how much time passed, but I had fallen asleep on my mother’s grave. When I awoke, my head was pounding and my eyes felt like stinging, melting glass shards. I sniffled and sat up, looking around. It was dark. I sighed and looked again at her figurine.

“Mom what do I do? Everything is worse. It’s all getting worse. I’m projecting in the wrong ways or not at all. I feel so exhausted. I’m being triggered by everything. I need you, mom...” I listened to the wind in between the graves and stones. The breeze passing through crevasses.

I laid down on my back and looked up at the sky. It was beautiful. I smiled and remembered a moment with my mom in which we went star grazing in Wakanda. He laughed for hours and had the greatest conversations.

I wish Thor was here. He’d love this. I bet he would say something about the Asgard sky and then horribly describe it. But he’d be smiling and that smile...

I blushed thinking about his smile. But then I caught myself. But what about Peter. I groaned.

I looked more at the stars and continued to fight back and forth between thinking of Thor and Peter. I was so engulfed in my thoughts I didn’t hear the gate to the cemetery open and close.

“Y/n.” Thor voice was soft and respectful.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” I screamed and jolted upright. “You scared me to death!!!” I fell back onto the ground.

He laughed and said “this would be a good place to drop dead..”

I chuckled. “I suppose so...how’d you find me?”

“Earlier you said you were visiting your mom. You’ve been gone for hours...and then...” he looked at me strangely. “I started...seeing what you’re seeing. Like I’m you...” he sat beside me, elbows on his crooked knees.

“And then...Peter called me. He was freaking out asking if you were ok. Because he was seeing the same thing I was...” he looked down at me.

I looked at him, feeling nauseous again. Immediately, without warning I turned my head and vomited just out of moms burial site.

“Woah!” Thor held my hair back and soothed me the best he could. “Are you ok?”

“I-no-I don’t think-“ and I was done. I passed out in Thor’s arms and didn’t wake for three days.

#avengers smut #thor smut #mcu #bucky barnes #thor x y/n #thor #angst #present day au #canon divergent au #modern au

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sneezy-cheeseloaf · 3 years ago

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recounting the entire avengers: endgame movie, which i only saw once when it came out, from memory

because i just took the SAT and i want to do anything except think about that so get ready for a fun ride full of holes and my reenactments of scenes and quotes that i remember from however many years it’s been now since endgame came out. buckle the fuckle up

movie opens, clint’s whole ass family fucking dies. cue killing spree fueled by grief and anger. HashTag Relatable

tony is floating through space with nebula and teaching her how to play paper football

holy shit is this how tony dies

“pep” ouc h

oh hey he’s home, dope

The Gang (tm) learns where thanos’s farm is somehow i can’t really remember

“perhaps i judged you too harshly”

“???? thor????” “what? i went for the head”

“five” five what?? days?? weeks??? months???? oh boy i can’t wait to find ou- “years later” HUH???????

steve looks the exact same, so i guess he kept up that workout schedule even through the snap. i mean good for him honestly

and is also running a talk therapy group like sam did

a single smidgen of gay representation but it’s a good start ig

i don’t really remember what everyone else was doing, i just know that tony and pep have morgan now but idk if that gets revealed now or later

the only reason we had a movie is because of a rat. everyone say thank you to Rat for releasing scott lang, please. round of applause

scott’s daughter is all grown up and catch me sobbing over the fact that he wasn’t there to see it

somewhere in here nat is crying and eating a sandwich and honestly girl same

“hey!!! it’s me!!!! scott lang!!! ant man???? also what the hell happened???? lemme IN”

cue scott lang having a single brain cell and bringing up time travel. i think it was him that proposed the idea. maybe not. but imma give him credit

oh yeah bruce and hulk are besties now and bruce is just permanently Like That

and cue everyone being shook at the idea of time travel

time to go see Science Man at his house on the lake

“i wish you had come for anything else.” ouch

gang leaves dejectedly

peter. that’s it. and suddenly tony is all hands on deck

cue science mumbo jumbo in the middle of the night while he eats something out of a bag that i can’t remember

“shit!!” “sHiT!!!” “NO”

“i love you 3000″

Science Man reveals that he has, indeed cracked the code to literal time travel

cue nat, the only person with an umbrella, going to find clint who is busy with murder, as he does

“don’t do that. don’t give me home” stfu budapest man and get in the car.

thor has. enlargened. and is now playing fortnight with korg as a means to cope with what happened plus losing loki, as i think we all would

The Gang is back together and working (surprisingly) coordinately and throwing ideas around and it’s actually very cute. and it makes my heart very happy. and i want to cry every time i think about it because we all know what comes next

scott’s taco gets blown away. bruce gives him another. all is well in the world

and in this exhibit we see the only brain cell in the whole group, which is being used by rhodey at all times

“why don’t we just,,,, (choking motion)” “to a BABY???”

during the time tests someone gets reverted to a baby but i don’t remember who and it’s highkey disturbing

“i consider this an absolute win!!”

cue slo mo walk with the cool white time suits that everyone looks so good in

“see you in a minute” that smile. she looks so happy. sobbing

i think it’s in here that all the color go through steve’s eyes, so let’s just take a minute to acknowledge how pretty he is

“just for the record, that suit did nothing for your ass.” “i don’t remember asking you to look”

“that’s america’s ass.” yes it is scott you’re absolutely right

“i cOuLd dO tHiS aLL dAy” “yeah i knoOoOW”

time for tony to give tony a heart attack and then just stare in what i can only assume is amusement. i’m pretty sure that comes after america’s ass but maybe not

somewhere in here steve is just staring at peggy through blinds and it’s sad when you see it but when you think about it afterwards, it’s so funny for no reason

time to get whacked by a very angry hulk who was not allowed to use the elevator

“NO STAIRS”

tony goes flying. so does the tesseract. loki, in handcuffs, is like “oh bet this is mine now” and. Leaves.

i’m pretty sure it’s bruce who goes and gets schooled by The Ancient One on the multiverse, and i say it’s bruce because i think he’s the only one out of The Gang who could ever actually wrap his head around it

i don’t remember exactly how they get the tesseract but they do

thor and rocket are in asgard and thor has a panic attack, as I think we all would if we had to talk to our dead mother and pretend like we don't know what's going to happen

and remember kids, slapping someone is not the way to handle a panic attack. anyways

a mother always knows

"i'm still worthy!!!!" you always were, thor. you never stopped being worthy

and we have our hammer back

cue sobbing on vormir

“clint. it’s ok. it’s ok.” that smile.

nat’s fucking dead and i’m fucking dead inside let’s keep this party goin

other stones are recovered and i don’t really remember how but hey we got all six

“where’s nat?” cue more sobbing from me and from clint as you can see each and every team member’s heart drop to the fucking floor. especially steve

yeah maybe we’re doing this for half the universe and all the people we lost, but mostly for nat now

tony’s makeshift infinity gauntlet has entered the chat

Green Man is the only one who can physically take the power of the stones, so the fate of literally everything they have ever done up to this point is on him

snap rest in peace bruce’s arm

cue every single person in the theater holding their breath

“guys. it worked.”

cue explosion as their facility gets bombed and i am terrified that it has killed the entire gang

but it obviously has not and i am once again a Class A Idiot

i can't remember if it’s steve or tony who wakes up first but one shakes the other awake and is like “get the fuck up bitch idk what just happened but we got a problem”

everyone is mostly fine. but they’re all alive and that’s what matters

and now we have the setting for the entire rest of the movie basically

oh hey thanos. that’s uh. that’s a big army you got there

i don’t really remember everything that happened with The Past thanos, gamora, and nebula but i remember that gamora once again sees what a twat her adoptive father is and is like “oh hell na”

cue the gang fighting for their lives against Past thanos. literally

oh shit thor’s about to be killed????

OH MY GOD HE HAS THE HAMMER

cue the theater screaming as they should

hell yeah. bonk that giant space grape with the god of thunder’s hammer. you go steve. and look like a badass doing it as you should

shit’s still fucked and they eventually get their asses handed to them one by one

somewhere in here the shield breaks just like we saw in age of ultron. and like damn bro i liked that thing

steve stands up by himself because bitch. you cant kill him unless he says so. he dies on his own terms. he didn’t live for over a fucking century to die like this

our mans is standing up against a whole ass army knowing full well that he can’t win but damn if he aint ready to try

“ok listen strange. you have to open the portal to his left. his LEFT. you hear me???”

“steve. STEVE. on your left.”

cue the most goosebump-inducing scene that i have ever seen and probably will ever see. i would do anything to see that scene for the first time again. that feeling was like nothing i’ve ever experienced

the amazing symphonics are NOT helping my already-about-to-explode-from-excitement heart

now the gang’s ALL here. and we all cry because all of our peeps are back from the dead and we all missed them and highkey grieved for them after infinity war

i can’t remember if steve actually sees bucky yet but i think he does and i wanted to cry on the spot because not only did i miss bucky but man did i just want them to see each other again

cue sick pan of the whole ass marvel roster like smash ultimate, including howard duck somewhere in there

PETER OUR BOY SWINGIN ON IN

“AVENGERS. assemble.” “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

but we all know damn well that not a single person could hear him whisper that shit. like steve bro speak up a little

and the battle for the ages commences

we get to see all our favorite boys are girls fuck shit up and it’s absolutely incredible. wow it really feels like someone’s missing who could that be.

this is now a very elaborate game of keepaway

“catch” “Catch” “CATCH “CATCH”

“hey queens” he remembered. catch me cryin

“hey peter. got somethin for me?” god i love her. flew through a whole ass spaceship. no stoppin her

t'challa remembers clint's name. he did care

oh yeah scott is fucking humongous again, but third time’s the charm ig. maybe he won't pass the fuck out this time

somewhere in here, strange starts holding like. an entire ocean back and i dont really remember where it came from

we get a whole segment of marvel women kicking ass and taking names and i think i just need to take a minute. WE collectively need to take a minute

carol flies straight through a spaceship and everyone is like ???? hello????? where have you been?????????

carol gets literally headbutted by thanos and doesnt move a fucking inch. and that look of murder in her eyes. she could tell me to walk into a pit of lava and i would not question it. the power

“launch the missiles!!!” “but sir, our army-” “DO IT”

damn thanos our expectations for you were low but holy fuck

somewhere in here i think petter quill sees Past gamora and is like gamora???? and she like kicks him in the balls or somethin and is like “this is the ones i picked?????”

the fight continues and honestly a lot of it’s a blur but damn was it not the coolest thing i’ve ever seen.

cue strange knowing exactly how this was gonna go down, and holding up a single finger

i dont think ive ever seen that look on tony's face before

oh shit thanos has the gauntlet and all the stones. fuck.

wait holdup that gauntlet looks a little funky

WAIT HOLDUP

“i am inevitable”

“and i. am iron man.”

the theater, once again holds its breath

all is lowkey calm and everyone is shook

thanos’s entire army slowly fades away. including one of those big worm things that almost eats (i think it was) rocket but like. dusts right as it hits the ground and is a really cool shot

and thanos sits down on a rock. and finally is gone. and it's so cathartic

oh joyous day!! they’ve won!! they’ve done it!!! wait holdup where’s tony. i remember what happened to bruce where the fuck is tony

wait

wait hold on

wait hold on a minute

“we did it. we won, mr stark. we won. please, mr stark”

“pep.”

“it’s ok. you can rest. you can rest.”

i have officially passed away and am a sobbing mess. you can’t do this to me. he’s gonna come back. there’s no way. tony stark doesn’t die. no.

this is a fucking funeral. i am going to combust into tears

“proof that tony stark has a heart”

i just wanted him to be able to see morgan grow up.

but him and nat are eating shawarma together in the sky now.

“i’m recording this in case something goes wrong, which it won’t.”

“i love you 3000.”

oh we’re still rolling. oh we don’t even get a minute to process

steve is leaving??? wait holdup we cant lose both. no

“are you sure about this?” “i have to”

“i’m with you til the end of the line” so that was a fucking lie

but steve deserves to do what makes him happy. so i can’t be too mad. actually, nah i aint even mad i’m just sad

bucky looks so dejected. so sad. someone please give him a hug. he desperately needs it

oh hey steve. but you’re old now. hey then, grandpa. how did you. get there

buck and sam go talk to him as they should

“you wanna talk about her?” “no, i don’t think i will”

“how does it feel?” “like it belongs to someone else”

sam has officially inhered the shield, and by extension, his very own bucky barnes. it’s a packaged deal

clint’s got his family back. and they can finally finish their picnic or whatever they were doing at the beginning of the movies

and steve finally got that dance. finally. and he looks so happy. so content.

and that’s about all i remember

i have not watched endgame since i saw it in theaters when it came out because i absolutely do not have the emotional stability to do it again. but damn the disney plus shows have been bangin

i hope you enjoyed the ride, thank you for joining me in my. whatever the fuck this is

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hashirun · 4 years ago

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I'm lowkey panicking kasi parang medyo scratchy yung lalamunan ko tapos bigla akong inubo. Eto na ba yun? May covid na ba ako? Nahawa na ba ako kay Mama?

Nung nag-positive si Mama naintindihan at tinanggap ko naman yung risk na mahawa ako syempre mas importante sa akin na maalagaan sya. Kaya lang nung na-admit na si Mama sa hospital tapos nagpa-test ako at nag-negative, I can't help but cling to that hope na nakailag ako sa virus. Alam mo yun?

I'm pretty sure I can survive this if ever na-infect nga ako, ayun lang nasa-sad lang ako pag naiisip ko na mada-damage yung lungs ko and I will no longer be able to do the things that I love. Sa ngayon naka-focus ako sa running and biking, but there are a lot of other activities na gusto kong balikan once the pandemic ends: hiking, basketball, kickboxing, surfing, wakeboarding, wall climbing. Tapos yung ibang activities na gusto kong itry: tennis, free diving, rowing.

Ang greatest fear ko talaga ever since eh yung ma-injure ako while engaging in physical activities. I like pushing myself to my limits but at the same time I avoid putting myself in dangerous situations kasi nga I want to be able to do sports for as long as I can. So trained myself to be more of an endurance type of athlete even though I was more of an explosive type in my younger days.

Ngayon, aside from getting injured natatakot ako na masira yung lungs ko because of covid. Pag nangyari yun makaka-recover pa ba lungs ko? Makakapag-sports pa ba ako? Gaano katagal kaya bago ako maka-recover at makapaglaro ulit?

Ayun wala pa naman, pwedeng nag-ooverthink lang ako pero I can't discount the possibility na infected nga ako. Kailangan ko din ihanda sarili ko eh. Siguro pag na-damage yung lungs ko, sign na yun para ibaling ko na yung atensyon ko sa motorsiklo (hello Ducati Scrambler char hahaha).

Crossing my fingers na negative, wala pala akong pambili ng Ducati 🤞

#personal #biking #bicycle diaries #running #what i talk about when i talk about running

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iamtheprotagoneil · 4 years ago

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when i was writing my answer for the second part of this ask from alicia, i actually came up with a fic idea but since my schedule is pretty packed for a while to come, i probably won’t be able to turn this idea into an actual fic. so to keep this from fading away into the oblivion that is my awful memory, i’mma just do what ive made this blog for, which is rambling away:

there’s this hongkong tv show i watched ages ago, but one of the subplot really stuck with me. it follows one of the main characters on his journey to his eventual greatness. in this subplot, he’s stuck in an ice cage and, every night, he’d meet a girl (circumstances are a bit icky, but let’s digress). the ice cage is so dark and freezing that, to both of them, it feels more dreamlike than reality. they even prefer to each other as ‘mộng lang’ and ‘mộng cô’ which loosely translates to ‘dream man’ and ‘dream lady’.

later on, the girl (who turns out to be a princess) hosts an event to search for a consort (although, in honesty, she’s hoping to meet her dream man again). in the event, she hides behind some thick drapes that hide her identity, and asks her suitors questions that only her dream man would be able to answer – or answer correctly, anyway. the guy only comes to the event out of obligation, rather than any actual wish to be the prince consort. however, his intention changes as his turn to go ‘meet’ the princess comes, and then the questions, and then the realization that his dream lady is just behind those drapes.

i just find it so poetic that they only meet each other through bizarre circumstances, that they don’t even know of each other’s true identity, only falling in love with each other’s voice and wits. then, after a while apart, they find each other again, through sheer coincidence, and are able to reconcile on what they’d thought was only a lost connection.

which, ahh, makes me think of an AU, of sorts, for protagoneil. perhaps, they wouldn’t meet in an ice cage, but in a prison (idk, that’s just what my mind decided on), maybe in some place where they’re held captive in rooms next to each other, a place with rules so reclusive that they never get to see each other, only a voice as proof of the other’s existence. their situation – being locked up in a room with only a small window as indication that the outside world does exist, although distant – would make their interaction with each other so surreal, as if the other is nothing more than a figment of their imagination, another sign that they’ve gone mad in this captivity.

hell, we can make this even more tragic by setting in the tenet ‘verse, post-canon. perhaps a mission went awry, and the protagonist finds himself captured by some antagonists with greedy, self-serving purposes for tenet’s inversion technology. perhaps, the protagonist thinks neil’s voice – or whoever it is that sounds so much like the neil he once met – coming through the wall is just his mind coping to the loneliness and isolation. he’s never had problems with either before, but the circumstances are different now. now he’s got a ghost living up in his head, that he’s been missing and thinking about more than he’d ever admit to another soul.

i imagine their conversations can only be held in the night, spoken so quietly – barely above a whisper – so as to not alert the guards. the secrecy drown in complete darkness truly adds another layer of surrealism to it all. they never exchange names – the protagonist bc he doesn’t want to compromise himself, and neil bc well, if the protagonist doesn’t bother to offer name then why should he?

the things they talk about are simple, although unclear on whether what is true and what is warped into something not quite a lie, but close. they talk mostly to keep themselves sane (ironic, isn’t it?), to have a little distraction from the horrid things await them when morning comes.

i imagine the protagonist would wake up one day, call for neil, but get no answer in return. he tries more times, through many nights but still, no answer. neil’s just gone, so suddenly, and the protagonist can’t decide which sense of the word is worst. eventually, after a few more days of torture, of wondering and dreading, the protagonist finds his freedom.

it’s a joined effort, from himself and the tenet team sent to rescue him. i imagine the protagonist checking the room besides, finding it vacant of any furniture and living soul. he decides there that, yeah, perhaps the time in and out of inversion, paired with the isolation and torture he was put through, has really done a number on his mental state.

then, some months later, the protagonist would meet the voice in his head once again, but this time, with confirmation that it’s been real all along.

see, neil’s been moved to another holding facility. the antagonists have wanted him to work for them; have taken interests in the research he’s been doing on a particular field of physics and decided that he would be perfect to help them in their malicious plot for greed. neil... well, i wouldn’t say they broke through him, but he did agree eventually. the torture had been too much, and he was tired – he hated having to go back to the cell they were holding him in, facing this sickening dread as he questioned his sanity.

the voice in his cell had been a great reprieve from the undue punishments on his body, but not enough to completely elevate him from the pain of it. so he “broke”. he agreed to work with the antagonists, to save himself since it was obvious that no one ever would.

and that’s how the protagonist finds him again; when he breaks down the antagonists’ second location and discovers a compliant neil seemingly working for the people that was going to put a whole lot of lives in danger for their own greedy purposes. before they can say anything to each other, though, neil’s taken out by another agent – a sleeping dart placed carefully on his neck and pushed. the protagonist never did get the agents’ identity, having lost track of them in the midst of chaos going around him.

later, when neil is put in their medical care facility, the protagonist stands outside of his room, watching him sleep through the glass window and listening to a report about his conditions. it contains everything from the moment neil went missing from his london flat (presumed dead), to the time he’s spent under the antagonists’ captivity, to the point where they found him. then, the protagonist is shown a document, including various equations and graphs and terms that mostly went through his head.

he looks to the reporting agent, expecting a better explanation. the agent points out that the equations are wrong, but so delicately that she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t thought to take another, harder look.

“even if they’d gotten with it, their plan would’ve failed. that document you’re holding in your hand ensures that.” she turns to look at neil, regarding his sleeping figure. “he might’ve given into the idea of ever getting out of their claws, but he never gave in. he never truly gave them what they’d wanted from him.”

all of that winds down to one simple fact: neil’s passed the test, and the protagonist knows what that means. the protagonist has to wait a few hours for it, though; for neil to finally wake up and have his induction into tenet. in the meantime, he sits on the couch inside neil’s room, and waits, watching neil’s eyelids flutter in sleep, and feeling sorrow/rage/frustration grip tight to his being as he thinks about things that has and will happen to neil.

when neil wakes up, the protagonist is just right there to welcome him into the afterlife. he keeps his speech short, giving neil a brief overview of his situation, but neil isn’t really listening. the protagonist’s words blur together, not because of neil’s groggy mind, but because of a single, simple realization. it hits him so hard that he just can’t keep in the lone tear falling from his eyes. the protagonist sees this, and his heart aches – remembering how it’s felt when he was the one who was lying on the bed, getting told that his entire team had failed to make it out alive – and unlike his own recruited, the protagonist tries to comfort neil with, “listen, i know it’s hard—”

but neil just cuts him off entirely, reciting a phrase he’s said before, to the man he’s thought was just a dream his tired mind made up to keep him company at the late hours of the night. it stops the protagonist right in his tracks, staring down at neil, breathing harshly through his lips because he can’t believe it. he’s thought, also, but apparently, he’s thought wrong.

“i’m glad you’re real,” neil says, as he watches the same realization he’s experienced dawn on the protagonist’s face.

the protagonist takes a moment to respond, still a little bit stunned by neil’s words. then, he takes an easy breath, relaxing his tense shoulders, smiles down at neil - small and private, something just for the too of them - and says, “me too.”

because despite everything that had happened to them both during their time in that prison, they still had each other. they were there for each other, and the protagonist gets it now - the beautiful friendship that neil had alluded to. it is quite beautiful - poetic too, maybe - for them to have found each other in such a hopeless place, then lost that connect, then reconnecting it again because fate has willed it so.

the protagonist can’t help, even more so now that they are together again, looking forward to the things they will get up to - as promised. neil’s smile, sleepy yet sincere, tells him the very same thing.

#protagoneil #its only an idea so some parts are weird and super vague and just improbable #i really want to write it but damn i can't be profound enough to write something like this; and like i said my schedule is packed rip #and i have so many wips already ahhhhhhh #gotta finish them all before i can jump on any other projects and i just love this one to much to leave it there collecting dust #so here goes #if anyone wanna hop on this please do #you'll get my eternal love in return #also kudos for anyone who knows/figures out the show i'm talking about here #it's based on a very famous novel (that i have never read before; but have heard enough of it from my dad while watching the show with him)#(fun times; maybe that's why the show (or parts of it) really sticks to me hah)#idk what to tag this #*my ramblings #my prompt #ig???#i'll figure something out later but this will be it for now

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alostdandelion · 4 years ago

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My covid Journey

It all started with an itchy throat that I thought would naturally go away if I eat spicy food, or to be exact, ramen. Disclaimer: it was a Saturday and we had gone to the grocery the day before where I bought around 6 pieces of chocolate cream bread from Breadtalk. Yes, I indulged myself with sweetness because yum. I ate what I wanted to, I even ordered buffalo and garlic parmesan chicken wings but that itchy feeling in my throat remained. PS: virus & bacterias love them sweets too. 😅

Sunday, after hearing that they'll put us under ECQ where even outdoor dining is prohibited made me ask my cousin out to eat with me. Yes, despite my throat being itchy. It didn't cause any alarm to me, as I wasn't feeling uncomfortable... YET.

After eating with my cousin, I went back to my place and spent the rest of the weekend watching or doing whatever.

I could still recall that Sunday night though, it was really warm I couldn't fall asleep. But then, suddenly, I shivered. I felt chills. I thought I didn't have fever, but that chilly feeling put me to sleep anyway.

Monday, March 29 - I usually get up at 5 in the morning but that day I got up at around 5:30, feeling weak which I mistook as being lazy. I thought I wasn't feeling well but decided to take a shower and go on with my day.

I did my thing as usual, but as the hours passed by, I started to feel cold despite wearing a sweatshirt. Usually when I wear that, I'd feel comfy already but at that instance, I was still shivering. I tried my best to avoid my officemate as I was afraid to infect her with my fever, if that made sense. I was totally avoiding skinship.

I was able to overcome Monday, and ended up taking Paracetamol before sleeping because at that point, I was well aware that I had fever.

Tuesday, March 30 - I still got up late, mistaking being unwell as being lazy. Damn I hate being lazy. But this time I had to take Paracetamol before going for a shower. I felt uneasy as I still had fever but I still went to work. Just wow.

I was alone this time which somehow relieved me. I was still shivering in the office despite wearing my sweatshirt, and had to take Paracetamol continuously as my fever was recurrent.

Wednesday, March 31 - I still got up late, took Paracetamol before going to the shower. This time I was worried. I had fever for 3 consecutive days already but covid didn't cross my mind, as the itchiness in my throat was gone by Monday, leaving only fever to deal with.

I still went to work because it was the end of the month but ugh, it felt really awful. I was shivering, and my nasal passages were somewhat uncomfortable. They felt dry and I had that feeling of catching a cold I decided to inhale steam from hot water. It was really awful I even decided to leave work early. I left an hour earlier because I wanted to take a rest already, to just stay in bed.

Thursday, April 1 - I got up late again. I was hesitating that time because I was really feeling unwell and uneasy. I still took a shower and got ready for work but the thought of walking to the office terrified me. I suddenly thought, "who will look after me if something happens on the way?"

I kept worrying about work, work, and my client. But... how about me? Who would worry about me?

I ended up crying. I cried real hard. It was around 6:30 already and I usually leave before 6 but at that time I was sitting on my bed, crying for myself.

"Nag-aalala ka sa work mo, kapag ba may nangyari sa'yo pananagutan ka?"

I dropped my bag and sent an email that I wouldn't be able to come to work, but instead, I'll come in on Monday. It was supposed to be a rest day but due to my condition I decided to just swap them. I thought I should really take a good rest that time because I was really sick. I even sent a voice clip to our HR manager because I really couldn't go to work that day.

I went back to sleep and stayed in bed the whole day. I thought taking a rest would result to my recovery but damn during that afternoon, I was crying again. I knew for myself that my fever was high. I couldn't measure then as I didn't have a thermometer but I knew it was because I felt really warm. I was even covered in blanket despite the sun shining brightly outside.

I was crying, I was saying whatever. Was it delirium? I was asking God and my late parents to just take me with them. I didn't like that feeling, and all I could do was cry and pray.

I was taking Paracetamol for my fever, I also didn't have the appetite to eat as I was nauseous.

Friday, April 2 - it felt the same. I still had fever, nauseous, I didn't want to eat but I needed to because I felt hungry. But this time, I was well aware that it could be covid and that I didn't want to infect other people.

I didn't want to trouble anyone, but I had no other choice but to tell our dorm's caretaker and ask for her help. She received the food deliveries in my behalf and brought them upstairs, to the 4th floor. I was really apologetic and thankful to her. The moment she knew I was sick, she helped me buy food and medicines, disinfectant, and other things I might need.

I knew I troubled her a lot. She had to go out a lot of times to buy the things I needed. I kept my door closed and wore mask when I go to the restroom. It was the least I could do. :'(

She helped me through those days of hardship. I still had fever, still nauseous, still no appetite, there was shortness of breath with little activity, and I was starting to cough. It was the weekend, when our HR manager decided to have me tested for covid. With me not getting any better, I admitted and accepted the possibility that it could be covid.

By Sunday my fever was gone but I listened to them and proceeded with the swab test.

April 6, Tuesday. I didn't have fever anymore but was coughing slightly. The med tech who did my swab test was a friend of our HR manager. She was kind enough to buy me lunch, courtesy of HR manager. The way she did the swabbing was gentle, her hands were soft and light it didn't feel painful at all. 🥺 thank you Mariane! ❤️

Right after being swabbed, I felt hungry I started to eat the burger meal she brought me. By this time I was feeling just fine I even drank the softdrinks. 😅 And throughout that day, I started to have the appetite to eat. I was hungry and craving for food. ❤️

I ate everything Jira brought me. Yes. She was bringing me food, healthy meals to be exact that was given by my landlady - her aunt. How thankful I am to have such caring and thoughtful people around me. 😭😭😭

April 7, Wednesday, my test result came out and it was positive. It was covid. Of course I had to tell them. They were all worried but I assured them that I was already feeling better, that I had passed the tough stages. 🥺

I actually hesitated to tell Jira as I was afraid that if she finds out, she wouldn't bring my food upstairs anymore but contrary to my worries... the more concerned they became. They even brought me warm lemon water, they even cooked soup and lugaw to feed me. 🥺😭

This went on, until this week, when I told them I was getting better already and that it's fine even if they didn't send food anymore. I felt shy already. 🥺 then our HR manager sent this food package because it was their birthday. Kkyaaa I was really happy while eating the lugaw because with every scoop, there's laman / meat! 🙈❤️

So as of this writing, April 15, I'm on the 8th day of my 14-day quarantine. How do I feel? I feel better, well, except for my growing wisdom tooth causing pain. 😅 But this pain is nothing compared to the pain I felt during that difficult stage of my covid journey. 🥲

I am still recovering, still eating lots of healthy food, taking vitamins, and eating sweets from time to time. 😅

My 14-day quarantine ends next week April 21 and I can't wait to return to work already as I can't stand the sight of my officemate being troubled because of me. 🥲

Always take your vitamins - twice, wash your hands, and do physical distancing. This virus is invisible, and could be just around the corner. I was complacent I forgot to wash my hands from time to time, lesson learned.

But this experience showed me the people who actually care for me. It made me realize that I'm actually loved and cared for. I cried a couple kf times because of this disease, but I also cried because I was thankful to have people look after me physically and virtaully.

How thankful I am that my case was mild, as I didn't want to further trouble the people around me. But imagine for other people if they get infected, some could get serious. 🥺

Thank You Lord for staying with me! ❤️

Stay safe and healthy! ❤️

Timeline 🥲

27 - itchy throat

28 - itchy throat / 12AM chills

29 - fever

30 - fever, mucus

31 - fever, mucus, headache, inhale uhhhh

01 April (Day 6)

4:14 - high fever

5:10 - medyo okay

6:19 - medyo okay nasusuka

7:13 - ang ginhawa :((((

02 (Day 7)

6:24 - sinat, sipon konti

8:19 - lagnat inom gamot, nausea

10:30 - gutom na gutom :((

11:21 - inom gamot. Okay lang.

4:24 - gutom

5:30 - lagnat

03 (Day 8)

5:25 - ubo, sinat?

8:14 - ubo, sinat

9:37 - antok 9:00 gamot

12:00 - ok lang

5 - 37.6

7:41 - 37.7

8:13 - 36.8

04 (Day 09)

3:36 - 36

7:21 - 35.5

7:46 - 36

10:40 - 36.1

12:36 - 35.8

2:13 - 36.7

3:07 - 36.8

4 - 37

4:53 - 37.3

8:26 - 36.6

05 (Day 10)

8:20 - 36

9:16 - 36.6

11:07 - 36.8

5:55 - 36.5

06 (Day 11)

9:10 - 35.8

10:30 - 35.2

07 (Day 12)

10:15 - 35.8

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oncexinxmyxdreams · 4 years ago

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First Impressions

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to play with your food?” Peter wryly commented.

“Examining fungi is not playing with food,” Egon stated as he picked another mushroom from the noodles. He put it into a small jar.

Peter rolled his eyes and took another sip from the glass bottle. The earthy vanilla flavor of root beer was a sweet change from the liquor he usually sneaked around in his pocket. With how slow Egon was taking with finishing his lunch, Peter knew they wouldn’t be leaving soon. He slumped back into the booth and eyed his surroundings. It was more interesting than watching Egon perform surgery over his pasta. (No doubt, he’d ordered it because it had mushrooms in the sauce.)

The small restaurant had the familiar red walls, dark green upholstery and stained carpeted floors. Waitresses were bustling around with their trays stacked with water and breadsticks. It was warm inside with the savory scent of different Italian food which was comforting for Peter. It reminded him of his mother when she made different pastas for Saturday dinners; usually for the two of them.

“What did you get for Ray?” asked Egon. Now he was eating. Ray kept missing his usual eating out with his two close friends for over a week. He’d spent his spare time searching for a particular book in different libraries around New York City.

“His fourth favorite dish from here,” Peter said as he pushed his plate aside.

“Chicken marsala,” Egon said half to himself. The take out box was near his side of the table and he opened it with interest.

“Don’t think about it,” said Peter. He reached over and snapped the lid closed. “You’ve collected enough fungus for today.” He scooted the box closer to his side.

“I wasn’t going to take any,” protested Egon though his tone hardly changed. “Curiosity is just another-Peter? Peter!” He noticed his friend suddenly wasn’t listening to him. No surprise, a woman had just passed them.

“Wow,” Peter murmured to himself with a dazed, love sick expression.

The lady that passed them wore a cyan blue dress with an A-line skirt and a black belt which emphasized her hourglass figure. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled into a low bun with simple hoop earrings. Even though Peter only got a glimpse of her face, he noticed her profile; like the classic beauty an old Hollywood starlet.

The lady made her way to an empty table and sat down, her back facing them. Just when Peter had started to rise up and make his way over to her, a man came up and sat with her. He had a navy blue suit and plastered blonde hair. Peter sank back. Of course she’d already have a boyfriend. Well, it certainly wouldn’t take too long to notice another lovely woman…or so he thought.

It was almost frustrating throughout the afternoon that he couldn’t stop thinking of her. It’d only been twice when after seeing an interesting lady that he couldn’t shake the image out of his mind. It looked like she’d be the third. Give it until tomorrow and things would be back to normal again.

Things calmed down into the early evening. Since Egon had already graduated with two PhDs in Applied Physics and Parapsychology he was working for Columbia in paranormal experiences. Though he had an incredibly high IQ and graduated quicker than an average student would, some professors found his work questionable. (He and Peter had to meet with one of the departments earlier that day because they had inquiries for his projects.) He worked in the Paranormal Studies Laboratory in Weaver Hall with his name printed on the glass door. It appeared more as a basement than an official lab with the sparse lighting and stale scent. Since Ray and Peter were attending Columbia, even though it was currently June, they made themselves at home. Anyone who knew Egon would be aware that he didn’t read Captain Steel comic books or have a full body poster of Marilyn Monroe. Besides, there was promise that if all went well they could work along with Egon after getting their doctorates in Parapsychology.

Egon and Ray were spending their evening looking over notes for some prototype they wanted to build. Peter ignored their technical talk and with feet propped on his desk, read the newspaper. He skipped the boring columns of economics and went straight to the sports section. He took off his tie and tossed it to the desk where he left his blazer. He was vaguely aware of the soft knock on the office door and Ray’s quick footsteps to answer.

“Oh hi Claire,” said Ray being his usual friendly self. “Come on in.”

“I found the book,” said a voice with some triumph. “I was having lunch with one of my co-workers and he said he just returned this to the library. I thought I’d check it out for you.”

“Gee thanks,” Ray said taking the thickly bound book. “I was worried I’d be waiting two weeks and-Oh! Sorry! Where are my manners? Hey guys. This is Claire Teague. She’s the one I met at the library. Claire, these are my good friends. That’s Egon and Peter’s hiding behind the newspaper.”

Right on cue, Peter’s eyes lazily looked over his newspaper and his heart skipped several beats! Be it fate, luck or even a miracle, there she was! No mistaking it, the same lady from the restaurant was there in Weaver Hall. Having heard that she was with a co-worker and not a boyfriend made Peter all the more pleased. Egon took little notice, but Peter scrambled from his chair, newspaper tumbling to the floor and turned on his charm.

“Well hello,” Peter said smoothly. He leaned against the bookshelf, chin resting on his palm and eyes gazing into hers. “I’m Peter Venkman-uh, soon to be Dr. Peter Venkman.”

“Hi,” Claire said politely. She turned back to Ray and stepped closer to him. “So are you finally going to tell me why you were looking for this book?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” continued Ray as he flipped to the first page with interest.

“Tell me” said Claire with a smile. “You said you’re earning a doctorate in...you said, Parapsychology?”

Peter tuned out Ray’s explanation as he leaned back against the bookshelf and took in Claire’s beauty. She was a perfect combination of actresses he liked: The smile of Michelle Pfeiffer: the soft round face Jessica Lange: the blue eyes and defined bow shaped lips of Grace Kelly: the classic hourglass figure of Marilyn Monroe. He could say perhaps even tad more voluptuous since she wasn’t as thin as a rail. When Claire sat in one of the metal chairs next to Ray, she crossed her shapely legs.

“Gorgeous,” Peter thought. He really hoped she was single. No chance Ray was dating her since he had just been asked out by another classmate. He’d been so wrapped into his thoughts that he didn’t hear Ray’s conversation end. It hadn’t been long, probably two minute. Claire looked at Peter and then back to his desk.

“What about you?” Claire said to him. “You’ve got some type of box on your desk.”

“You don’t want to know,” Egon said with some disdain.

“Have you ever heard of the ESP test?” Peter said giving his friendly tone.

“No,” Claire simply said with a head shake.

“It stands for extra sensory perception,” Peter continued. “Guess you could say it’s to figure out if you have a sixth sense and the test is based off of the psychologist Karl Zener.”

“What exactly are you testing?” Claire actually seemed curious.

“I’m examining the negative reinforcement of the ESP test with electrodes,” Peter simply answered.

“Not even scientific,” Egon muttered.

“How does that work?” Claire asked.

“Easy,” Peter explained since he thought he was gaining her attention. For full effect, he leaned over his desk and started shuffling some of the Zener cards. “Every card has a symbol on the back and-”

“There’s nothing scientific about it,” interjected Egon. He didn’t turn his back around from his project. “It’s chance! Each card has a plus sign, star, square, circle or wavy lines. You just keep randomly guessing to see if you get one right. It’s been discredited for clairvoyance!”

“Isn’t he cute?” Peter smirked. “Doesn’t have a doctorate in Psychology and he thinks he knows everything.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” said Ray who was trying to keep the peace. “Maybe if Karl Zener had just done more experiments it could’ve been credible.”

“I suppose that’s what Mr. Venkman is trying prove,” said Claire. “It just needs more testing and it could be a success that even this Zener couldn’t achieve.” She stepped a little closer to Peter. “Maybe you just need the right people to test it.”

“Funny you should say,” Peter said stepping closer to her. “I had one ditch a session tomorrow.”

“She freaked out when you told her about being hooked up for electric shocks,” protested Ray.

“She had another engagement Ray,” corrected Peter almost through his teeth. He wasn’t keen on Ray ruining his moment. He gazed back into Claire’s eyes, getting lost in the shades of blue. “If you’re interested in how the Zener test works, how about you be a test subject? I bet you’re one of the smartest ladies around; you could guess those cards so easily that you wouldn’t even get the tiniest shock.”

“I have a high threshold for pain,” Claire said after a pause. “I could be a test subject if it’s after my work. I get off at five-thirty.”

“It’d be a pleasure Miss Teague,” Peter responded. “An absolute pleasure. Six-ish work for you?”

“That’d be nice.” Claire walked around him for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me know when you’re ready to check the book back in Ray. Goodbye.”

Right after she left, Egon muttered something and scribbled another formula for the prototype. Peter playfully slapped Ray on the shoulder.

“What?” asked Ray innocently.

“When you said you met some girl at the library you didn’t say she was a bombshell,” teased Peter.

“I told you her name,” said Ray. “We were just in the history section and I accidentally bumped into her.”

“She doesn’t seem to have the same interest as you,” Egon said who couldn’t help overhearing a little.

“Well no,” admitted Ray with a shrug. “She loves history and I was looking for that book about ghost sightings during America’s earliest years. So she said she’d keep an eye for it and I told where I’m at if she finds it. Nothing to it. It’s not like I was going to date her.”

“Did she mention being single?” Peter asked eagerly.

“I think she is.” Ray scratched his head in thought. He noticed the gleam in Peter’s eyes. “Oh come on Peter! Don’t tell me you’re going to ask her out after the ESP test.”

“Very good Ray,” joked Peter. “You catch on fast. You should’ve seen the look in her eyes when she said she’d volunteer. That’s the look of a woman who’s fallen under the Venkman charm.”

It would work out perfectly. Claire would get all the right cards; she’d be smitten by Peter’s “encouragement” to guess correctly and then a date. Who knew, maybe something extra later in the night? She seemed self-confident to have hinted being a volunteer. Peter already liked that. She didn’t give off too much personality other than the first things he usually noticed in a lady; that being pretty and nice. Either way, the usual plan was already up and running.

(Author’s Note: Finally! First ficlet up! BTW, you better be hearing Lorenzo Music’s voice when reading Peter’s lines here. 😉 Props to Spengs0 for suggesting Paire as a shipping name.

#the real ghostbusters #fanfic #fanfiction #peter venkman #ray stantz #egon spengler #claire teague #OC #RGB: First Impressions #rgb fic

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ofpensandpapersblog · 4 years ago

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FROM CALM TO CHAOS: A year into the COVID-19 pandemic

It was January 30, 2020. Everyone was beginning to execute their game plan for their goals set for the year. And while everyone was getting busy, life had its way to changing its course – getting everyone caught off guard because of the ‘unprecedented’ arrival of the novel coronavirus (COVID-19).

At first, majority dismissed the matter when a suspected COVID-19 case was reported, and everything seemed to have died down a month later with no additional cases reported.

Calm.

Beginning March 2020, the very first local transmission of COVID-19 had been reported and from then on, the confirmed positive cases continued to rise day-by-day. This has prompted the Government to devise a plan in a bid to stop the spread of the disease and placed Luzon into lockdown. It was March 15, 2020.

Nobody knew what to do after that day. Everyone was panicking; there’s confusion and fear everywhere.

Visayas and Mindanao soon reported local transmissions and followed suit, declaring lockdowns to contain the outbreak. Soon, the whole of the country was placed into a state of calamity.

Although people were able to cope with the ‘new normal’ after a while, several serious problems came to light – in the Government, in the community, in oneself.

Chaos.

For the whole of 2020, everyone hoped for the better like I did.

Was the COVID-19 contained? No. But everyone made the most out of the situation.

Everyone tried to move on with life and optimistically looked forward to a different year ahead.

Calm.

Beginning 2021, the Government have opted to gradually relax restrictions, reopen the economy, and allow some of the things people dreaded for.

At the office, we were almost back to the ‘normal’ daily operations. Instead of working at home, majority of us in our unit were already reporting on site four (even five) times a day.

In the Church, we have reopened physical service at 50% capacity (in adherence to the IATF guidelines). Physical meetups and fellowships were also being done.

Yet when everyone looked to end the year-long agony brought about by the pandemic in 2021, all hell broke loose once again.

---

Since the start of the year, we were already wrapping our heads in one of the agency’s project for its 25th anniversary – a coffee table book.

Aside from the internal documents that needed to be prepared, we also coordinated with different companies and groups that will be featured in the said project; we sent emails, prepared scheduled visits and trips, and many more. It is stressful to the core – in work and in principle.

We started the company visits and trips beginning March 2021 but had to halt it for a week due to poor planning and coordination of the third-party supplier. We had to step in to ensure proper communication with the stakeholders regarding the feature.

It was March 15, 2021. During this time, there were already reports of increasing COVID-19 cases but there was no clear plan to be done by the Government yet again. It seems like a repeat of last year...

The same day, a photoshoot for a certain group of people was conducted at the office in relation to the coffee table book project. This was the nth time that we breached the guidelines on mass gathering – yes, I had to state that out – although, there were fewer people that time compared to the earlier scheduled shoot. We are to resume the company visits starting the next day.

March 16. There were already rumors of positive COVID-19 cases at the office, but no one confirmed nor denied the information, so we went on our day as usual.

March 17. The rumors were eventually confirmed – two staff from another floor tested positive of COVID; however, employees were suspecting that there’s more. In the afternoon, the management has decided to suspend operations for the rest of the week to conduct disinfection of premises. At the same time, the reported COVID positive cases around the country was once again ballooning rapidly.

Despite tbe suspension, we continued our scheduled company visits for the project, but the scheduled flights for the next week have eventually been postponed due to the worsening situation.

March 20. There have been additional confirmed cases among the agency’s employees. We were getting quite concerned on this as we’ve heard that we might be primary contacts – AND WE WERE IN FACT EXPOSED.

We were informed the next day that three staff from our unit, including me, turned out to be primary contacts while the rest of the group were our secondary contacts. As such, we were ordered to immediately have our swab tests done and go on quarantine.

In the back of my mind, I was taken aback as just in a matter of days, things went out of hand.

Due to the escalation of events, the agency had been placed on ‘lockdown’ and mass testing of employees was ordered. This time, the Government has announced that the Greater Manila will be placed under ECQ again.

Chaos.

Of course for the safety of everyone, we immediately complied to the instructions.

I got tested on March 22 and, thankfully, the results went back ‘negative’ the next day. Or so I thought…

March 24. I woke up feeling sick – my back aches, my head hurts so bad, I was coughing, and I have high fever. I immediately told my mom what I was feeling. I also informed my supervisor and three of my closest colleagues about what’s happening.

For the rest of the day, I monitored if my temperature would go down and all that’s aching in me would go away. It didn’t.

Since I wasn’t getting better, I reported to our company nurse what’s happening. I was told to undergo some laboratory tests and take a swab test again.

In my mind, I was already preparing for the worse. I prayed to God, “Lord, if this is my thorn of flesh, I am willing to accept, but please help me see the bigger picture.”

Praise God, all laboratory tests were clear. But I tested positive for COVID-19.

It was morning of March 27 that I confirmed the diagnosis, 8 days since I was exposed. It broke my heart, but I trust that the Lord will be with me in this journey. I prayed to God for understanding and healing. I also prayed that my parents and my brother’s girlfriend, and those people around me, will be spared from this. “As much as possible, Lord, ako na lang.”

For the next few days, my condition worsened: my fever wasn’t going down despite the round-the-clock paracetamol, I developed cough and colds, I lost my sense of taste and smell and my appetite, but I had to force myself to eat because I need to take antibiotics and other medicine. I also experienced uncomfortable breathing.

Due to my condition, I was already thinking of scenarios that didn't even happened yet – what if I needed to go to the hospital? All hospitals near me are at full capacity. What would I do? What will happen now?

During those times, I wanted the comfort of my parents, but they can’t even go near me. Literally so close, yet so far. Never have I ever felt so alone in my life… but I thank God for never leaving my side. Even when I can’t see Him, I was assured that He was with me all the way.

That very moment that I wanted to give up, kaleidoscope of memories flashed in my head, and I remembered my mom and dad, and Kuya, and his girlfriend, my friends, the people I cherished the most… And I heard a gentle whisper that said, “Hold on.”

In those moments, I uttered the same prayer that Jesus said to the Father in Luke 22:42, “Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”

Thankfully, I started to get better at the start of the Holy Week 2021. Majority of my symptoms were already gone by the end of the week. It’s funny, but I felt like I was resurrected alongside the remembrance of that momentous time when Christ took on the cross the weight of our sins, defeated death, and resurrected on the third day to sit at the right hand of God.

It was the hardest and scariest week of my life. It was as if I would see the light any time. But it was also the same time that I met God again.

For the longest time, I had set aside the Lord. But the moment I was alone and I had no one to turn to, He was there. He never left… He never will.

I really appreciate those people who constantly checked on me and prayed with me during those times. Thank you, Lord, for using them to remind me that You are with me.

I am continuously getting better twenty days since I got the virus. But praise God because I do not have any symptoms anymore and I am already back to doing what I usually do while on continuous recovery.

My heart goes to those who lost their fight against this virus. I pray for God’s comfort, guidance, peace, and protection be upon their families. I also pray for healing and provision to those suffering from COVID and its drastic effects.

---

Was COVID contained now? Still no. The cases are still at record-breaking peaks. Frontliners are still suffering. Hospitals are still full. People are still frustrated and mad at the Government for their lack of concrete plan.

COVID IS REAL. And this situation must be taken seriously. It's not anymore a matter of 'what if I get COVID' but more of 'when will I get COVID.' Sad, but it's true.

But beyond the current situation, GOD IS ALSO REAL. He knows everything that is happening, and He accounts every one of them – justly and fairly.

1 Peter 3:12 says:

"For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their prayer, but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.'"

Let us continue to pray for the better; He listens. He is closer than we know. #

#devotional #testimony #COVID-19

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thehoodsweetheart · 5 years ago

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Sandcastles | Part IV.

A/N: I want to start by apologizing for taking so long to create Part 4 to Sandcastles. I had writer’s block for a while and then life got in the way. I hope you all enjoy this. I will be continuing this series. No real music inspo for this part. The picture above is just adorable but not a depiction of Y/N and Iman. Please excuse any spelling and/or grammatical errors. It might be a bit rough. I was just trying to get this out.

Word Count: 3,112

Warnings: Slight Angst (?), Mentions Violence, Hints of emotional abuse, Mentions Miscarriage, Hints at abortion, possible triggers

Summary: Y’all not getting one this time.

Erik x Black Reader (will always be a Black reader. Sorry not Sorry).

——————————————————————————–

Erik remained seated on the leather couch of his living room holding his phone to his ear yet still silent. His mouth opened but he soon shut it, as he was unable to form words. The sensation of his chest tightening followed by the familiar lump in his throat nagged at him. Erik leaned forward his elbows planted on top of his knees. His shoulders tensed. The feeling of regret washed over him for the umpteenth time. He had felt this too many times for his liking. The one person who for years brought him peace was bringing the storm. If he had to choose he’d say it was a hurricane followed by tsunami. The type of damage that it could cause would have anyone questioning if God was mad at the world. But Erik was the source, and he was internalizing just how much pain he was still causing you.

The tone of your voice was enough to make him feel like scum. This was the second time that afternoon you had called him in a panic. The first was after his text threatening to kill the movers. Of course he listened to you and didn’t kill them… but he was already seeing red. It was too late for him to not do anything, at all. In Erik’s mind, at very least they deserved their ass beat for banging on the door like the police after he told them to get off of his property. Erik did just that. He beat their ass. The movers definitely needed to be in someone’s emergency room getting checked out for cracked ribs, a broken nose, maybe even a broken jaw. In Eric’s mind, this was light damage in comparison to what he wanted to do. They put themselves in the way of being the target of his frustration. Nonetheless, his logic could do no justice nor could it sooth your worries.

You continued to yell at him through sobs, full blown hiccupping sobs. Erik hated the fact that for the countless time in less than two weeks, he was the reason you were crying. Some things you said he could barely understand due to your crying, but he sat there taking it all in, staring at his bruising knuckles as he assessed the damage made. What he could make out was that you were sick of his shit.

“Y/N, come on. I’m sorry alright? I know I fucked up…again, but please try to calm down princess. It’s too much stress on the baby.” Erik finally took a jab at some type of reasoning with you.

He knew the potential consequences of high stress during pregnancy. In fact, you and Erik were not strangers to the disappointment and heartache that miscarriage could bring. You two had suffered a miscarriage before conceiving Iman. Although, neither of you knew that you were pregnant until Erik rushed you to the hospital for what he thought was a possible rupture appendix, only to receive the heartbreaking news that you lost your first child.

The first pregnancy was not exactly planned. Erik had been teasing you since you guys’ third date that he was going to get you pregnant one day. At that point you hadn’t even been intimate with him yet. He was nowhere near being ready to be a parent at that time. Erik was genuinely amused at how you would roll your eyes and scoff every time he mentioned it. It was just something he teased about more than anything. He loved to get a reaction out you. Nonetheless when he did imagine himself having children, he knew you were the only woman he’d envisioned. So when the time actually came and you miscarried, it triggered his fear of loss. Erik in term became even more overprotective of you, if that was even possible.

“STRESS?! STRESS ON THE BABY?! NIGGA YOU ARE THE STRESS ON THE BABY!” You cried out. Erik pinched the bridge of his nose taking a deep breath. He could hear Iman crying in the background.

“Just…come home love. Let me take care of you and Iman. Let me try to fix us for real. All this yelling and shit probably has Iman scared.”

“EXACTLY ERIK! She is! This is just too much for me. ” Y/N sniffled. “Why would I ever come back? You make me physically sick to my stomach. You can’t even control yourself. What if they press charges? What if they sue me for putting them in that situation?”

It was the truth. You were always right. He sighed in defeat. He knew he blew it once again.

“They not fuckin stupid. Them niggas was trynna take my family from me.” Erik mumbled. “I can have T’ch-“

“Don’t you dare” You cut him off. “T’challa? Really Erik?! T’Challa can’t solve your problems or be your voice of reason for you… and YOU lost your family on your own. Nobody took us from you but you.” Y/n ended the call immediately after, overwhelmed with the entire situation.

Erik was left with is thoughts and your last statement replaying in his mind like a broken record. He was the cause of this entire situation and that was a tough pill to swallow. He was still at square one without the slightest clue on how to fix you all’s relationship. Maybe he did need to get himself together before he tried to pursue the mending of his family?

Erik smacked his lips before picking up his phone once more. He scrolled through his contacts begrudgingly tapped a name he hadn’t dialed in almost a year. It was time he visited his therapist. He listened to the ringing before a chipper voice answered. It was his therapist’s secretary that annoyed him with her overly cheerful persona.

“Dr. Lang’s office, Amber speaking. How may I help you?”

“It’s Erik Stevens. Can you get Dr. Lang on the phone…immediately.”

“Sorry Mr. Stevens, but Dr. La—“ Amber hesitated.

“I’m not gone ask again.” Erik barked.

Amber tried to cover gasp of astonishment with clearing her throat and politely telling Erik to hold. Amber knew exactly who Erik was, and against her better judgment she’d eavesdropped on his past sessions. It took less than 3 minutes for Dr. Lang to pick up the line.

“Mr. Udaku-Stevens, it’s been a while. How are you?”

“My wife left me.” It pained Erik to utter those words aloud.

“Ah! Well, how about you come in tomorrow 9 AM? If your schedule permits…”

“I’ll be there.” Erik kept it short hanging up the phone.

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

You threw your phone down on the bed staring blankly into space. The sensation of saliva thickening in your mouth brought your attention to the nausea you had been trying to ignore. You used your sleeve to hastily wipe away the tears left on your face. You didn’t owe him a goodbye. You could barely comprehend why you were talking to him in the first place. Why do you always feel the obligation to reason with Erik? And to an extent, why did you still bare the burden of trying to protect him from himself? Erik could be his own worst enemy with his self-sabotaging fits of rage.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a shriek that came from Iman as her cries intensified. Iman was having a full on fit. Her round golden face was now tinted in a red hue, hot tears spewed down her face, and her dimples piercing her cheeks as she flailed her chubby fist. Iman was teething and it was giving her the blues. You picked her up cuddling her close to your chest, rubbing small circles in her back, attempting to sooth her. A teething baby was a force to be reckoned with. You’d given her some medication in hopes of breaking her fever but just by touch you could tell that it had barely worked. Iman pushed at your chest and if you could guess you would only assume she didn’t want you to hold her.

A light knock came to the bedroom door, before it cracked open far enough for your twin brother, JR, to peak in. With an exhausted yet concerned look on his face, he scratched his full beard looking at you and Iman. He had returned from football practice less than an hour ago and his usual routine would have been to take a shower then nap. It was apparent that that was interrupted. His expression softened as you made eye contact.

“What you in here doin’ to my niece?” he joked trying to lighten the mood. JR staggered further into the room. “What’s wrong wit my lil baybeh?” He cooed as he took Iman from your arms.

“She’s teething and sleepy so she’s fussy.” Y/N mumbled letting out a heavy sigh.

JR cradled her in his muscular arms as Iman clung to him beginning to calm down. He was practically the same build as Erik. The idea of her possibly missing her father crossed your mind, and by no means were you intending to keep her from Erik, but taking her back to him was out of the question. You weren’t sure if he was in the right mental space and seeing his face only made you angry.

You stood up from the bed briskly walked over to the adjoining bathroom shutting the door. You couldn’t resist the urge to vomit any longer. It was starting to make you feel physically weak. What more could you possibly throw up when you haven’t even brought yourself to so much even eat a grape in six hours? Your body was giving up all it had to give, and at this point it was only bile. You clung to the porcelain toilet wondering if this was all a test of faith. Why was everything falling apart? Why was this pregnancy so hard? Better yet, why was life so hard right now? How come you couldn’t be home with a supportive and faithful husband like believed he was at some point?

“She ain’t the only fussy one wit all that yelling you was doing at her Daddy.” JR mumbled as you walked back into the room collapsing on the bed.

“You heard all that? Sorry.” You knew you probably didn’t even need to apologize, but who really wants to come home to a bunch of drama that has nothing to do with them. JR waved you off with a nonchalant look.

“Don’t worry about. Take it easy though. You look…dehydrated.”

“Are you calling me thirsty?” You retorted with cut eyes.

“No nigga! You literally look dehydrated like you need Gatorade or coconut water. It’s some in the fridge.” JR shook his head as he readjusted Iman in his arms laying her head on his shoulder. Iman’s wails had settled to a soft whine by now.

“Thanks but I doubt that I could stomach either of those.”

“Is that normal? Being pregnant and all? That shit seem like a bad hangover and virus combined.”

“I don’t really know. I didn’t go through this with Iman. I had some cramping and nausea but this is just…ugh... Wassup? You getting ready to have a baby I don’t know about?”

“Hell nah. My niece and future nephews are enough. I got a good five to ten years before I let somebody trap me.” He shrugs.

“Excuse me? You don’t know if I’m having a boy or not. And you said nephews with an S. You trynna make me sicker something?”

“I’m just concerned with your health. It got my twin senses doing weird shit. Maybe you should try to see your doctor before your appointment? I’m trynna tell you, you’re super sick cuz you having triplets. What you gone do with four kids under 2?” JR commented earning an eye roll. Here he goes with the twin sense stuff. Sure it’s a real thing but JR could be a bit dramatic.

“I’m NOT having triplets. Are you crazy?” JR smacks his teeth.

“I’m not crazy but me and niecey gone take a nap on the couch. If you still lookin’ like you getting ya ass whooped from the inside out in a hour, then I’m taking you to the hospital.”

4 hours later

After enduring an hour wait in the emergency room waiting room, you had been pricked and probed too much for your liking. The past few hours consisted of countless tests and tubes of blood being drawn. You were already reluctant about going to the hospital in the first place. You would have rather gone to your regular OBGYN, but your brother insisted on taking you to the ER tonight. There was no doubting that you needed to see a doctor. How you were feeling was not the least bit normal and it was only getting worse.

It seemed like the nurses were more interested in your brother than what you were going through. Being that he is in the NFL, the attention was something he’d grown accustomed to. You on the other hand didn’t care. You almost snapped on one nurse who was so insistent on smiling in JR’s face, that she incorrectly inserted the IV in your arm four times. If you weren’t toting a sleeping Iman in your other arm, you probably would’ve caused a scene. At that point, JR excused himself from the room taking Iman with him. He stated that he wanted to give you privacy and limit the distractions.

Hyperemesis Gravidarum was what the on duty physician diagnosed you with. Hyperemesis Gravidarum is a rare condition that causes sever uncontrollable nausea, vomiting, and dehydration. You stared down at your slightly protruding belly as the doctor continued to explain what the condition was. Your vision blurred as your eyes burned and your ears began to feel hot. You tried to process what the doctor was telling you but the sound of your heartbeat and breathing seemed to be battling over his voice. From what you could gather is that he was deeply concerned that you developed the condition with this pregnancy especially since it wasn’t your first. If it concerned him, it surely scared the hell out of you.

“I’d like to do an ultrasound now to make sure everything it alright with the baby. We gotta take care of mommy and baby.” He said while holding out a Kleenex box and using his free hand to pat your knee. He called over a technician who wheeled over the ultrasound machine.

“What if it’s not?” Your voice became small, almost child like. Fear was starting to get the best of you. You went through a miscarriage before and didn’t want to face another one.

“We’re going to stay hopeful, Y/N. Something tells me I know a possible answer for this condition. The circumstances can vary…” He said as he turned on the ultrasound machine before pouring the cool gel on your lower abdomen. The doctor placed the device against your abdomen causing you to slightly jump due to its warm surface catching you off guard.

The crackling of static when the device touched your stomach was followed by the blaring rapid heartbeats offsetting each other. The doctor turned the monitor to give you a better view of the screen. Moving the device around, the doctor zoomed into a particular area. He studied the monitor and his once stoic facial expression cracked with a glint of satisfaction. Your line of sight moved from the provider’s face to the monitor before the two of you. You froze, blinking a few times to be sure you were seeing correctly. Your breathing became shallow as you opened your mouth to speak then immediately closing it. Is this really happening? You sat there wide-eyed trying to take in this moment.

“Is that—are those—“ You attempted to ask before the doctor cut you off nodding.

“Congratulations Mommy! Looks like you’re having twins with very strong heartbeats might I add.” He announced with a smile. “Which is what I thought was triggering your condition. Would you like us to bring in the proud papa and big sister from the waiting room?”

You lowered your head shaking it as uncontrollable tears began to pour down your face. You couldn’t quite understand your own emotions. Are you happy? Are you upset? You should be happy… right?

“H-He’s not the dad. He’s my twin brother.” You stuttered.

“How exciting! A twin having twins!” A young nurse perked up with a smile in attempts to lighten the mood. You offered her a soft smile as you wiped your eyes. There was still an obvious presence of your lack of enthusiasm.

“Are you okay Y/N?” The doctor inquired with a concerned expression, for which you simply nodded. “There are options you can discuss with your assigned OBGYN. You’re still in your first trimester, which is a trying time for a multiples pregnancy. We have a few pamphlets here that might help, but don’t hesitate to inquire about any of your concerns.”

“I understand. I’ll discuss it with her.” You said just above a whisper.

“Great, now let’s get these fluids hooked back up to your IV. I’m writing you a prescription to hopefully help with the nausea and excessive vomiting. I think you should stay overnight for observation. We really need to get a handle on your dehydration.” He stated while typing into the computer.

Great, now you had to stay in the hospital. Who could watch Iman until your discharged? It was pretty late in the evening and JR is having an early start the next day. Your mom wasn’t exactly your greatest support system. Your grandma adored Iman but you know that Iman can be a bit of a busy body for her. You could call Nakia but there was a chance that T’Challa would tell Erik you were in the hospital. That was the last thing you wanted. They were still the best candidates. You could hardly find a baby sitter for one child, what were you going to do with three? How were you going to handle being single mother with three kids? Life comes at you fast.

You closed your eyes for a moment laying your head back against the observation bed. You were starting to feel nauseous again. You opened them looking at the empty chair next to where the doctor placed pictures from the ultrasound with markings for baby a, and baby b. Underneath the ultrasound were the pamphlets for the options he hinted at earlier. Your hands began to sweat as you reached for them. You stared blankly at the one on top.

“It’s my body right…”

*************

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