#truly i could watch these three specifically swing at stuff all day
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continue to be a big fan of tuc fight segments that r just mo tak hana and mun being a feral little tag team
bonus feral behaviour:
#creations#gifs#kdrama#kdramas#the uncanny counter#the uncanny counter 2#netflix#so mun#do hana#ga mo tak#truly i could watch these three specifically swing at stuff all day#like not only is it making sure everyone knows they r the best attackers in the group#it is also chefs kiss at showing how in tune with eachother they r#downside is these scenes r so hard to gif bc of all thee Moving#this is rly one of those sets that is mostly for me#to get the wiggles out u kno
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viki & hickeys
the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)
SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. Itâs absolutely perfectâ nothing could possibly go wrong when thereâs so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jkâs lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC thereâs a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, itâs Valentineâs Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 đł, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG
NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, hereâs an nc fic where thereâs like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also hereâs a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and hereâs another gif of jungkook crying bc itâs scary how pretty he looks
Being evil and hot does not come for free. As youâve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly canât have it all.Â
There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeonâs is that she doesnât know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he canât tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesnât know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You donât know shit about romcoms.Â
Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. âThis is a promise ring,â she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.Â
âNo,â you deny, even though you know sheâs right. âItâs an engagement ring.â
Doyeon rolls her eyes. âBabe,â she starts slowly, talks to you like youâre a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, âdid he ask you to marry him?â
The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after youâd rocked Jungkookâs world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?Â
Youâre not so sure.Â
Itâs been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.Â
Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time sheâs seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that sheâs rightfully disappointed.Â
âHave you no shame, woman?â she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. âYou have me parading around the world bragging about your engagementâ just for this?â
You knock your forehead against the table, know itâs dirty and icky, but you deserve it. âListen,â you huff. âIâve only seen The Notebook, like, once.â
She scoffs. âI can tell. This is so embarrassing, donât tell me youâve brought it up to him?â
At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. âNo!â you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. Itâs become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. âOf course heâd get me a promise ring,â you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. âJungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.â He really did.Â
Youâve had enough of Doyeonâs disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because youâre both a little mean.Â
âMaybe itâs for the best,â she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. âYouâre busy right now anyway,â she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. âArenât you getting promoted at work soon?âÂ
Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your companyâ one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.Â
Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.Â
Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue heâs the best in the entire world and that, if it wasnât for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where youâre being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.Â
So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretariesâ Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.Â
And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. âShould I be scared heâll steal you from me?â Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. âHe is a little handsome.â
You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. âYouâre right,â you had joked back, âhe is sooo cool.â And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.Â
Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.Â
To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkookâs place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while Whatâs Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. Heâs in between projects right now, so heâs spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.Â
Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. Youâve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know heâs upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.Â
On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkookâs love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.Â
(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but thatâs not the point!)
âHello, sweet boy,â you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. Heâs serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.Â
Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.Â
âWhatâs my pretty girl doing here tonight?â he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. âThought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?â
You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like youâre actually interested in the show. âWe just went out for lunch,â you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkookâs.Â
Thereâs a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeonâs explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before youâre turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. âHey,â you say bluntly. âIs this a promise ring?â you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.Â
Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. âMaybe,â he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards. Â
âAw, you want to marry me,â you tease, but itâs secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkookâs mouth.Â
He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. âWeâve talked about this,â he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesnât deny it, and thatâs good enough for you. Heâs too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. âCan I finish my show?â he whines, slightly not as hard now that youâve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.Â
But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. âHe still trying to fuck her?â you ask, not the least bit interested, but if youâre planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.Â
Jungkook sighs. âYeah,â he says, âI donât get it.â You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. âWhy would anyone agree to dating their boss?â
You know that Jungkookâs boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. âEveryone wants to sleep with their hot boss,â you offer. âItâs like, the power dynamic, I guess.â
His frown deepens. âWould you?â Your boss isnât exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesnât really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.Â
âHm,â you ponder, âmaybe.âÂ
Jungkook laughs. âYouâre supposed to say no, you idiot,â he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You canât help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.Â
Oh, you loved this man.Â
Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentineâs Day. After all, itâs his favorite holiday (âWhy? Well, because itâs a day all about you, and me, and us,â he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so itâs only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.Â
He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkookâs body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And itâs better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.Â
It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, thereâs Valentineâs Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. Itâs absolutely perfectâ nothing could possibly go wrong when thereâs so much love in the air.Â
But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?Â
One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. Heâs got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. Thereâs a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like itâll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonightâs dress on.Â
Itâs cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. Heâs so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. âHi, gorgeous,â he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. âLookinâ like Secretary Kim.âÂ
âOh? So does that make you my hot boss?â you tease as you make your way to the car.Â
As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. âIf it means youâll sleep with me tonight, then sure,â he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You donât get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time youâve composed yourself, heâs already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.Â
Itâs a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. âFancy,â you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.Â
âYou say that about any place that serves wine,â he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.Â
The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You donât really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. âI didnât say that about your house on our first date,â you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.Â
Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. Itâs a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. âThatâs because it was a house,â he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, âand we were watching Transformers.â An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamyâ nearly two years ago now! âand had retained that aura up to the present day. You donât think youâve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.Â
As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. âHey,â he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. âEverything okay?â he asks.Â
A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or somethingâ there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.Â
Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkookâs thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, âI love you,â murmured for only him to hear.Â
Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when heâs trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. âThanks,â he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and youâre reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. âMe too.â
You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. âSay it back,â you warn and he laughs.Â
âI love you,â Jungkook says like itâs the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.Â
That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like thisâ this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.Â
Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, youâre a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children whoâve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesnât let you see the bill; âbaby, donât worry about that when youâre with me,â he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.
You swear heâs spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasnât enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.Â
If there was ever a world record for âNumber of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,â youâre positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.Â
âYou know,â you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. Itâs chilly but youâre so full and happy that you donât let it bother you. âI was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.â
He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. âWhat?â he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. âAnd why were you going to do that?â
You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, youâre feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so youâre trying to push that off for later. âBecause,â you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. âYou sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!âÂ
Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. âMe?â he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.Â
âJungkook,â you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. âYou asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.âÂ
He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. âI already told you,â he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. âI didnât know what it meant.âÂ
âWhatever, you sleaze,â you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. âBet you tell all the girls that.â Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When youâre this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.Â
He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.Â
Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriendâs embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But itâs the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know itâs a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.Â
âGive me a sec,â you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.Â
Itâs Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkookâs bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.Â
âHello, Mr. Kim,â you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. âHow can I helpââ
â__, my love,â he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.Â
âHello,â you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. âWas something the matter?âÂ
Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. Thereâs a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. âDoes there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?âÂ
You falter. Beside you, Jungkookâs brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. Heâs obviously heard the other man on the line. âUm,â you flounder for a second, âwell, usually yes.âÂ
Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that youâre almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because itâs so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. âMy __,â he says, sweet and⌠slurred?Â
Heâs never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you donât fucking know. You canât even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why youâve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?Â
Beside you, Jungkook doesnât look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. âYouâre amazing, you know that?â Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he canât see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. âYouâre different from the rest,â he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.Â
Jungkookâs frown deepens. âWhat does he want?â he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate heâs annoyed, that much you can tell.Â
You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. Youâre almost certain itâs just Seokjin being drunkâ many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much theyâre appreciated, this wasnât anything weird!Â
Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjinâs voice is dropping an octave by your ear. âDid you get my gift?â he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event heâs at.Â
âHuh?â you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. âWhat?âÂ
A sigh over the line. âMy gift, love,â Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. âI had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girlâ donât tell me the postman fucked that up,â he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.Â
You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentineâs Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. âUm,â you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkookâs face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. âIâ um, havenât been home, Seokjin.â
Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, âSeokjin?âÂ
Said man doesnât hear. âOh, of course,â he says, almost sullenly. âI forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.âÂ
Itâs the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. âIâm sorry,â you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. âI think heâs drunkâ heâs never said things to me like this before,â you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. âIâll- Iâll take care of it, okay?â No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like heâs trying to calm himself down. âJungkook?â you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.Â
He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. âOkay,â he says, teeth clenched. âIâm gonna go sit.â And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.Â
The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like youâve said many times before, dealing with emotionsâ especially someone elseâs emotions âwas hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. âHello?â you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You donât know, and the fact you donât know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.Â
âYou know,â he says, âyouâre quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.â Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjinâs remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.Â
But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man whoâs brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkookâs foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. âI think youâre drunk, Jin.â
A scoff. âI am,â he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. âBut you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.â
Itâs like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. âUh, okay?â you say, âlisten, Seokjinâ Mr. Kim, Iâm... I have a boyfriend. And I really lovââ
He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. âYeah, yeah,â Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. âMrs. Kim used to say that about me,â he chuckles humorlessly, âI love you, I love you, I love you.â A long pause. Youâre unsure of how to respond. âItâs not real,â Seokjin says, like itâs the most obvious thing in the entire world. âLove, that is.â
You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. âBut you know what, love?â You donât respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. âSomeoneâs gonna cheat sooner or laterâ why not beat him to it?âÂ
Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. âHey, hey,â he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. âWhatâs wrongâ what did he say?â
You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. âNothing,â you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. âItâsâ it was stupid,â you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.Â
You had always known Kim Seokjin wasnât the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, youâre downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring heâd given you, all the polite smiles heâd flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.Â
Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as wellâ disrespected just like you âbut here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesnât want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.Â
âIâm sorry,â you mumble, lips pursed together. âI donât know whyâ heâs neverâ I wouldnât do that,â you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkookâs jaw clenches. âJungkook,â you frown, reaching for his hands, âI wouldnâtââÂ
He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. âCalm down,â he says, voice deeper than usual. âI know you wouldnât.âÂ
Weirdly, it feels like youâve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. âIâm sorry,â you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. âThat was horrible,â you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. âYou didnât deserve to hear that.â
âDonât cry,â Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quicklyâ his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldnât handle yourself. âHeâs a weirdo,â he says, for both your sakes. âYou didnât do anything wrong, sweetheart.âÂ
Still, you sniffle. âIâm sorry,â you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.Â
âCrybaby,â he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. âSecond phone you broke in a year.â
The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides itâs enough. âWe can still enjoy ourselves at home,â he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows youâre still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkookâs emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjinâs preposition and he bristles. âPrick,â he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.Â
Thereâs a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. âWonderful,â he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. âThatâs your favorite flower,â Jungkook notes.Â
You glance at the expensive bouquet. âIt is.âÂ
Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. âYou told him?â Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, ânice.â
You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. âBaby, I didnât,â you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. âYou said it was okay.â
âI know,â he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all youâve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. âItâs just,â he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. âItâs scary.â
The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. âWhat is?â
Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flashâ the one linked to his account âand has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. âWhatâs scary, Jungkook?â you repeat.Â
On screen, thereâs a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. Itâs serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.Â
Eventually, he says, âyou could leave.â
You pause. âWhat do you mean?â Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesnât meet your gaze.Â
Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkookâs foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. Itâs a nervous tick youâve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.Â
âI thought he was cool before.âÂ
He did. But the word âcoolâ didnât always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.Â
In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help heâs given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.Â
Youâre a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you canât help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.Â
Still, Jungkook surprises you. âItâs just thatââ he sighs. And then, âwhat if you leave?âÂ
You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way heâs nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. âWhy would I leave?âÂ
He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But heâs stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think heâs going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. âWell.â You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way heâs started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit youâve been trying to help him get over. âHeâs cool. Rich.â
âAnd so are you,â you offer, covering his hand with your own.Â
Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, heâs exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like heâs greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, âeveryone wants to sleep with their hot boss.âÂ
You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion heâs drawn. âBaby, that was just a silly conversation,â you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight youâre afraid heâll break your bones. âAnd we were jokingââ
âI know!â he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. Itâs not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you canât do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. Itâs a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. âIt was a joke. We were joking. But Iâmââ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. âI get scared sometimes, __.âÂ
His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.Â
Itâs a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you donât know what to do; itâs always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you donât know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.Â
Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, heâs been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until youâre half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkookâs moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know heâs started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when heâd first gotten, you donât have a clue what happened afterwards. Itâs probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.Â
He doesnât like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until youâre forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.Â
Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.Â
(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)Â
Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. Heâs there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. Heâs there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesnât understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.Â
(âHeâs too nice sometimes,â she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasnât much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.Â
You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. âHeâs a good boy,â you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. âHe cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.â
The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, âeternal enemiesâ as Doyeon liked to claim.Â
But for the first time, she hadnât denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didnât respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didnât even call him a gremlin either.Â
âHe even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,â you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkookâs shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. âIt just takes him a while.âÂ
âHeâs always cared about you though,â she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, âmore than youâll ever know.â)Â
Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But itâs hard, itâs so fucking hard, when he doesnât let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you donât even know where to start sometimes.Â
The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. âHey,â you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. âIâm not going to leave you, Jungkook,â you try and comfort, âI love you.âÂ
He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. âI know, I know,â he sighs, but it doesnât sound like he believes you. It sounds like heâs forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. âButâ what ifââ another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. âYouâll get bored.â Not a question, but a statement.Â
âOf you?â you ask anyway. He nods. âI wonât.â
He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. âYou will,â he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. âThat guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,â he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. âYou talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,â he stresses, doesnât leave room for you to object. âAnd I know youâre joking, butââ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, âeveryone gets bored of me, __.âÂ
Your frown deepens. âBut I wonât,â you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. âYouâre not boring, Jungkook,â you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.Â
Itâs teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. Itâs why heâs so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; heâs never felt like he was enough by himself.Â
Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. âI donât deserve you,â he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. âYou make me better,â he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.Â
Heâs gotten better, that much youâve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even youâve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.Â
Even still, thereâs moments where he relapses. Moments like this.Â
âIâm sorry,â he murmurs beside you, âI know Iâm a handfulââ
âYouâre not,â you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. âYouâre not a handful, Jungkook,â you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you donât know how to comfort him, but this is how heâs always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. âYouâre just enough,â you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. âYouâve always been enough.âÂ
He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. âIâm sorry,â he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.Â
âDonât be,â you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. âYou can tell me when things worry you, you know,â you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. Heâs so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. âIâll always listen.â
Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. âI know you will,â he says. âBut I like listening to your voice more, and I canât do that when Iâm talking.âÂ
You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. âDonât flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,â you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.Â
Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. âIâll flirt with you whenever I want.â And, because heâs just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before heâs unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. âI didnât even know your TV could go that loud,â he says, and heâs speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.Â
âCome here,â you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. âYou feeling better?â
Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. âYou make me better,â he tries, but after tonightâs realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.Â
âDonât say that,â you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.Â
Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. âWhy not? Itâs true.â He glances at your mouth. âYou make my life better.â
âWrong,â you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. âYour own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.â Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. âTrust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.âÂ
At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. âNow I know youâre lying,â he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. âBecause you donât even like documentaries.âÂ
You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didnât indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. âBut I like you,â you purr.Â
Jungkookâs eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. âDonât flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,â he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. âYou donât know what that means to me.â You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.Â
Jungkookâs fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. âYou okay?â he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.Â
He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. âUgh,â you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. âI wanted a kiss.â
Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldnât hurt even if he tried. âYou always want a kiss,â he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And itâs so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like youâre made of glass and will break at a momentâs notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of hisâ
Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. âSit still,â he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.Â
You whimper. âThat hurt.âÂ
âAnd itâll hurt even more if you keep moving,â he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, heâs leaving another stinging bite just further down. Itâs at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. âThere,â he says, mostly to himself. âAll mine.â
Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second markâ the hickey.Â
Jungkook doesnât usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.Â
Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. âEveryone will see that now,â he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.Â
Of course.Â
You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, thereâs a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.Â
Itâs even slower than the first, mostly because heâs a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. Itâs the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.Â
And youâre all too ready to act on it.Â
Duty calls and youâre there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because heâs just so precious, so dreamy.Â
But youâre too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand heâs got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. Itâs only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that youâre snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. âCan I touch you,â he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.Â
âYes, please,â you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.Â
Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. âOpen,â he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until youâre spread wide for him.Â
The dark panties youâre wearing tonightâ the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing âreceive one light kiss over the front. âAlways so pretty for me,â Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.Â
As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, itâs on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. âNot so hard,â you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.Â
Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. âYou like it hard,â he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. âDonât you?â You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.Â
With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. âFuck,â he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.Â
Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. âMmm,â he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.Â
âAh,â you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. âJungkook,â you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wearsâ the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much âpresses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.Â
Heâs so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until youâre trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.Â
âSo pretty for me,â he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. âAll for me,â he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.Â
âBaby, wait,â you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.Â
He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. âOnly for me,â he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. Itâs intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.Â
The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.Â
Itâs with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.Â
âNo,â you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. âJungkook, you donât have to do thatââ you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.Â
Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. âItâs mine,â he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you donât think youâve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, heâs lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. Itâs lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. Thereâs a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. âYou like that,â he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.Â
His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. âKook,â you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.Â
Jungkook doesnât let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.
He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. âYou were made for me, pretty girl,â Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because heâs just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.
Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But thereâs a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. âWaitââ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. âJungkook,â you warn, toes curling.
He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. âGo ahead,â he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.Â
The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkookâs fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. âFffuck, fuck,â you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. âJuâ Jungkook,â you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesnât stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. âStopâstop,â you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.Â
Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. Thereâs no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile heâll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.Â
Jungkook doesnât take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until youâre sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. âYou came like that for me,â he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.Â
He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. Youâre so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkookâs skin that you donât realize that same hand is reaching for you until itâs too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. âSay it, sweet girl,â he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. âTell me youâre mine.â
The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response thatâs stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkookâs hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.Â
Still, your body isnât as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. âI- Iâm yours,â you rasp out, gasping for air.Â
For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while youâre grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.Â
He doesnât let you sit around uselessly. âOn your knees,â he says, so quietly you almost donât hear it. âSit on your knees facing the table.â
You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you canât enjoy to the fullest because thereâs a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.Â
âBra off,â Jungkook says from behind you, and youâre startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. âSit still,â he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. âGood girl.â
A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You donât know why, but you say, âthank you.â
The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkookâs eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, thereâs a dark red box filled with the flowers fromâ
Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just likeâ âIs this⌠?â you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkookâs made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.Â
He doesnât grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. âDoes it matter?â Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.Â
Just as youâd suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. âYou know,â Jungkook says conversationally, like heâs not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. âWho else do you think can make you come like this?â
You brain lags. âW- What?â you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like theyâre already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.Â
Jungkook doesnât miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. âWho else,â he says slowly, âcan make you come like this?â
Itâs not a trick questionâ no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. âIâ no one,â you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.Â
His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, âexactly.â You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.Â
Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. âNo one else can please you like you want,â he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. âNot the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,â he hisses, lips against your ear. âNo one,â he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. âNo one but me.â
And itâs true.Â
You canât even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. âIsnât that right, sweet girl?â he murmurs, voice low.Â
You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. âOnly you,â you agree, voice feathery.
Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. âFuck,â he says, releasing your throat. âSuch a good girl,â he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. âBend,â he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. âPerfect.â
Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. âYouâre okay,â he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms heâs already given you.Â
Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. âBaby, thatâs,â you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. âIââ
Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. âIâve got you,â he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. âMade for me,â he repeats, voice airy.
You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. âMade for you,â you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.Â
He moans, and thereâs one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. Itâs a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but itâs always different when heâs doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.Â
âKook,â you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. âMove.â
âFuck, fuck,â he curses behind you. âI know, itâs justââ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, youâre certain itâll bruise. âI wanna⌠yâknow,â he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.Â
It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. âThen do it,â you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.Â
Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. âNo,â he says, like heâs battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. âYou donât understand,â he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.Â
âI kinda doââ
âYou donât,â Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, itâs like youâve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. âI wanna fucking breed you,â he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.
His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. âThatââ you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.Â
âItâs too much, I fucking know,â he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. âButâ But,â he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. âI wanna,â he pants, âwanna see you so fucking full of me, becauseâ youâre mine, __,â he seethes, âright?â
You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation heâs bestowing upon you to think properly. âI- I am,â you confirm, gasping for air. âAnd youâre mine,â you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.Â
âIâm yours,â Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and itâs with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand heâs got gripping at your hips.Â
âOh my god,â you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You canât see, and even if you could thereâs not much to hold onto on a flat surface.Â
Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until youâre certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkookâs moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.Â
âMine,â he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. âGonna be mine forever,â he growls. âGonnaâ Gonna be so pretty and big,â he moans, âtits so fucking full.â The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.Â
You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. âJungkook,â you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But thereâs no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkookâs cock into your pulsing walls. âThereâsâ Thereâs something,â you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.
Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldnât name even if you tried. âWhy would you...â Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.
You donât get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkookâs long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and itâs only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.Â
Itâs the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.Â
Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. âDid you like them,â he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.Â
You shake your head, a soft, âno,â falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.Â
Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.Â
âDid you think they were pretty?â he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.Â
âNo,â you say, but it feels like a lie.
And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. Itâs the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. âDid you,â he says a second time, practically seething, âthink Seokjinâs flowers were pretty?â
Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkookâs harsh breathing against your ear. âYes,â you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. âBut theyâre just flowââ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. âIâm sorry,â you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.
What youâre not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. âSomething pretty for a pretty girl,â he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.
âWhat?â you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.Â
(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)
Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.Â
With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. âThinking about someone else when Iâm right here,â he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. âWhat a mean girl,â Jungkook scolds.Â
âI- I wasnât,â you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.Â
âYou think Seokjin wouldâ would fuck you like this?â he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. âYou think heâd push you down andâand call you a stupid girl?âÂ
You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesnât make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. âNo, no,â you sob. âHe wouldn't.â
Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. âOf course he wouldnât,â he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. âStupid girl,â Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.Â
Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. âStupid, stupid girl,â he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. âArenât you?â You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But itâs the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.Â
âI- Iâm a stupid girl,â you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. Youâre ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.Â
âDonât,â Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.Â
You cry, tears and drool against the rug. âI wanna come,â you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. âPlease,â you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.Â
âYou donât come until I say so,â Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. âFffuck,â he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. âYou were doing so good tonightââ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips ââbut first those fucking flowers and now this?â
The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. âI- Iâm sorry,â you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm thatâs just about ready to snap.Â
Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, youâre subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. âFuck,â he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.Â
âI canât,â you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. âKook, Iââ
Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.Â
âIâve got you, sweetheart,â he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and youâre clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.Â
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry,â you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when heâs going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name youâve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, heâs coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.Â
âFuck,â he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.Â
The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You canât stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. âStop,â Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. âOr Iâll really get you pregnant next time.â
You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. âYou wonât,â you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look youâve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesnât stand down. Still, you canât lose. â...No you wonât,â you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.Â
Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. Heâs all sweaty and sticky, just like you. Heâs lucky he doesnât have four separate loads of cumâ three from you, one from him âsticking between his thighs. âKeep telling yourself that,â he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesnât miss. âStop it,â he warns a second time.
âYouâre just so dreamy,â you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. âLike, when you made me squirt?â He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. âNot gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.âÂ
Heâs worn out today, more than usual, that he doesnât bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex heâd gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. âYou did good today,â you hum, patting chest comfortingly.Â
âFelt like I was in a Viki drama,â he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. âThe kind that have twelve plot lines going on.â
You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. âYouâd be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,â you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.
That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.Â
epilogue
Namjoon calls Jungkookâs phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date heâd gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. âYou can sue him,â Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you arenât anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.Â
Heâs in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called Itâs You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, youâre perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldnât watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now youâre debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.Â
Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. âMen are trash,â he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) âHey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?â he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.Â
âHickeys?â you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.Â
âYeah, this girl,â he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because itâs the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as heâs there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. âWe went a little crazy tonightââ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head ââand Doyeon bites kinda hardââ
âDoyeon?â you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. âYou know a Doyeon?âÂ
âYeah!â Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesnât. âKim Doyeon. She went to your schoolâ actually, she graduated with you and Kook.â
The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as youâd suspected. âNamjoon,â you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkookâs phone. âAre you aware youâre fucking my best friend?âÂ
Thereâs a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. âHe didnât know,â Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.Â
All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, âand youâre fucking my best friend?â
epi-epilogue
The Best Buy employee doesnât ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.Â
You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes itâs wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.Â
âGood girl,â Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didnât argue with him in a Best Buy today. âMy perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,â he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.Â
âShut up,â you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. âYouâre about to perceive and understand these fists.âÂ
And Jungkook smilesâ he always smiles âas he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. âPerceive this love,â he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.Â
âGoddd,â you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. âSomeone get this man a Viki deal.â
Copyright Š 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
#networkbangtan#bangtanhq#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jjk smut#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x reader smut#bts jungkook#bts fic#bts smut#mine
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THIS IS MY WORK! PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ON OTHER SITES/APPS!!!!
Warnings: +18, smut, fingering, hand job, sex in bathroom, language, jealousy, fighting, arguing.
Y/n and Sarah sat quietly on Kie's bed as they waited for Kiara to stop degrading the lavender dress she wore while standing in her large mirror. Mrs. Carrera coming through the door to make sure the girls were all dressed. "This is disgusting."
"I know it's just horrible."
"I'm asking you guys to just relax and go to a fun party."
"I look like a bourgeoisie pig."
"I think you look beautiful," y/n said while shrugging at Kie. She just gave a smile back to her, still hating the look no matter what compliments were given.
"Will you please not worry about socioeconomic injustice for one night?"
"Mom, people not three miles from her have no power, no running water, and we're going to Midsummers."
"That's so tone deaf."
"Y/n," the mother scolded at her niece. "Do you know how hard we had to work to get into the Island club?"
"Yeah, mom. How could I forget? You had to grovel for, like, ten years--"
"Twelve years, and we also had to cough up a huge chunk of dough-"
"To keep up with the Joneses-"
"No, so you had the same experiences that I had as a child."
"But weren't parents as teens out, like partying, getting drunk, making out in the backseats of their cars at drive in movies," the cousin listed while putting her things in its bag. "Getting pregnant."
"That doesn't sound fun," Sarah added.
"Do you girls even know what the Island club is?"
"A factory farm."
"For debutantes," Y/n raised her eyebrows.
"It's a nice place, with nice people where you can do fun stuff."
"With out-of-touch rich people, while the island sinks slowly into the ocean."
"Water filling the poor's destructive lungs while the wealthy ones get away on million dollar boats."
Sarah sat quietly laughing on the comfy blanketed mattress. Mr. Cerrera sighed, saying one last thing before walking out. "Okay, I want you to put on your party face, girls, if you want to live."
"Did your mom just threaten to kill us?"
"Maybe. I think so," she nods as she turned around to the duo, fixing the flower crown that sat on her cousin's head. "You nervous to see Rafe."
"Why did you have to bring that up?"
"I was curious. I know it's only been two days, but-"
"Hey, he broke up with me. So if he wants to talk, that's in his duty. Not mine. I did nothing wrong."
Sarah got off the bed, swinging on it's pole. "Except flirt with JJ, or so he says."
"I was not...flirting with JJ. He has a crush on Kiara. I'd never."
"But Rafe doesn't know that."
°°°°
*flashback*
"What if she doesn't like it?"
"She'll love it. She's hippie."
Y/n and JJ sat on John B's porch, smoking a blunt. The girl was trying to help him do something nice for Kiara so JJ could ask her out without feeling weird. He's liked her for the longest and he was finally ready to tell her how she feels.
"Alright, now practice what you're gonna say."
Just as Y/n finished saying the statement, her own boyfriend, Rafe Cameron showed up. Standing behind them listening in.
"Okay, uh, hey I have to tell you something...uh important," the blonde began speaking, using hand gestures because of his nerves. "I really really like you. Like not like friends like, but I have feelings, uhm, strong feelings for you. Because you're like super hot, andnyou're like a really cool chick. So I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna...go out with me."
"Yes, t-"
"What the hell!"
The manly unknown voice shocked them both, their figures jumping at the sound because they thought they were alone.
"Rafe, what're you doing here?"
Y/n asked confusedly as she stood from the steps. The Kook just scoffed and walked back out. Ignoring her question. She shared a glance with JJ before going to follow after him.
"Hey! Where you going? What's wrong?"
"A pogue!? Y/n, seriously?!"
"What're you talking about?"
"You're cheating on me with a pogue?" He shouted. Y/n scrunched her eyebrows, looking at the unnecessary upset individual.
"What do you mean cheating? I'm not cheating on you. We were just talking."
"Bullshit. That's bullshit! I heard it all."
"Rafe, it's not like that. Jj was just-"
"I should've known better. I should've known," he fumed. His right foot swung to kick the dirt near his truck that he was so very close to getting into.
"Known what?"
"I should've never trusted a pogue. I knew something like this was gonna happen. You were just gonna throw me away like Sarah did, Topper. Right? Huh?"
"You sound ridiculous. I was never throwing you away. I was helping him out."
"Yeah, while you're at it. Might as well help sleep with him too."
Y/n scoffed, taking a step back from the angered boy who's brain had just functioned what he said. Part of him regretted it very much. But the other part thought you deserved it because of his cheating accusation.
He opened his vehicle door. Stepping one foot inside. "We're done."
The girl just laughed with held tears reaching for the openess. She turned around to head back inside as Rafe just drove off.
°°°°
"Hey, no tearing up today. Go to this stupid thing and show him that his little cheating accusation act didn't hurt you at all. You're stronger than that."
"Thanks, Kie."
The girls finished up their last minute touches. That includes sweeping their dresses with roller for no hair, any makeup redos, or hair finishes. The ride to the country club was quiet. Well, y/n was quiet.
This would be her first time seeing Rafe since their break up a three days ago. They've been doing everything in their mighty to avoid each other. And it definitely worked. But like her friend told her, she wasn't gonna get worked up. Letting Rafe see her weak was like telling him he was right about everything. But he wasn't.
"Jesus, Kook land."
"I forgot how packed this thing is every year."
"Well, let's go. I gotta walk out with my family."
The Cameron family walked out with their heads high and the Kook crowd cheered for each one. Y/n kept her eyes gazed to Kiara since they were in the middle of a conversation. Not caring if that family came in or not. That excludes Sarah.
Rafe watched from his spot by his dad, as they exited to outside. Breath hitched when he saw Y/n and her dress. It was a dark toned red, had tulle, and a revealing chest opening.
A red flower crown on her head, complimenting her beautiful down hair. She looked amazing and hot to Rafe. He had to clear his throat before excusing himself.
"Hey," the red dresses girl heard from beside her as a hand landed on her lower back. She removed it before her eyes retracted to theirs. Kie just pursed her lips before leaving to hangout with Sarah. Y/n internally screaming that she left her there.
"What do you want?"
"Uh, you look nice."
"Okay. Thanks. You don't too. What do you want?"
"Nothing. Just saying hi."
"Bye."
"Wait, wait, wait. Why are you mad at me? Shouldn't I be the mad one here?"
"Why?"
"Because of what you did," he said with furrowed eyebrows. Y/n shrugged.
"I didn't do anything."
"Do- do you not remember what happened on the cut three days ago? The fight."
"You slut shaming me and accusing me of cheating with JJ. That? Yeah, I remember that."
"Accused? I heard you."
"Heard what exactly?"
"JJ, was telling you he liked you and thought you were a cool hippie chick, which you are not. You're not hippie. And then he asked you out and you said yes. As soon as I walked in."
Y/n stared at him blankly. Before bursting out laughing. A few guests behind them staring with a look that showed they weren't used to loud talkers or laugher. "Oh my god. You thought? Jesus that's absolutely hilarious."
"What is?"
"That you think- you think that JJ was confessing feelings to me. Whew that's rich."
"I heard it, Y/n."
"He wasn't confessing anything to me you shit head. He was practicing for when he asked out Kiara."
Rafe was confused. Majorly. Inside and out. "But she-"
"He likes Kiara. And she's my cousin. You think I'd really hurt anyone like that? How low of me do you think? Have fun at this party."
Y/n walked off to go look for her disappeared friends. Not wanting to spend another second in a spot with someone who was so rude over something he knew nothing about. Just assumed. Never asked.
As she walked down the corridors of the porch that many people stood on drinking, a hand grabbed her shoulder, turning her around. Her eyes fixated on the blonde in a black tux and a bow tie.
"Holy shit, JJ. You scared me. What're you doing here?" She asked as she hugged him.
"Well, Sarah somehow convinced her dad to let me in tonight to hangout with Kie."
"Have you seen her?"
"I was just looking for her myself. C'mon. She's probably inside."
She grabbed his hand. Pulling him inside. They found Kie just minutes later with Pope. He was working the grill with his dad. Sarah was getting raided by Topper about their own stupid shit. Y/n decided to go get herself a drink and maybe find someone to dance with.
The straw rested on her lips as she stood against the porch railing. Gazing over all the people who say around laughing, probably bragging about their money, summer vacations, their older kids getting into a good college. Typical kook things.
Her eyes focused on a specific couple talking off to the side. Her eyes burning a whole in the back of Rafe's head as he tried to flirt up a storm with some Kook she didn't know whatsoever.
Her body was fuming. Was Rafe really gonna sit in front of her and flirt with a whole other girl that isn't her. Just a few days after their breakup. It's like he's trying to play victim. And she's had it.
"Hey, Sancho. Lassie."
The brunette Rafe was talking up a storm to laughed. "I'm sorry who are you?"
"Oh, you gonna introduce me to your side piece here?"
"Would you stop? We're just talking."
"Talking? Yeah, okay," Y/n laughed. The girl just looked at her dazed. "Hi, I'm his girlfriend. Y/n. And you, yeah you're excused."
Rafe was truly enjoying this scene. Internally rooting for Y/n. He wasn't gonna object to that fact that she called herself his girlfriend. Because now that he knew the truth, it changed his perspective.
"Who do you think you are?"
"I already told you. Wh- can you not hear correctly?"
"He said he was single so, why-"
"He lied. So, you can go away now- Rafe. Let's go. We need to talk."
"What're you his mother now?" The rando questioned. Y/n turned to her and gripped her face.
"If you wanna keep these teeth, then I suggest you stop talking. Go find somebody else's boyfriend to mack on."
She dragged Rafe by his hand into the upstairs private bathroom. Locking the door behind her. "What're you doing?"
"Just having a friendly conversation. There a problem?"
"You were flirting, Rafe. That was flirting," she paced. Hand against her for head.
"Like you're any better. You lied to me."
"I've never lied about anything."
"You said JJ liked Kiara."
"Yeah. He does."
"Then why is he holding your hand, hugging you, and leaving inside with you instead of the girl he supposedly likes," Rafe argued. Gripping onto the large counter.
"Rafe, I grabbed his hand and brought him inside to find Kiara. And I hugged him because I was happy for my friend. God, Rafe how many times do I have to tell you that I am not cheating on you."
"It's kind of hard to believe that shit when I keep seeing things with my own eyes."
"Then stop assuming and come ask me. Jesus, do you not trust me or something. Because I trust you. Anytime I hear that you're at a party doing lines with hot blonde's next to you, I brush it off because I know you'd never. Why can't you just do that for me."
Rafe stood from his seat. Pinching the bridge of nose. The guilty conscience grazed through his mind as he listened to her words. He had issues with trust and with others, but he knew it wasn't a reason to take it out on the only person who's loved him for him.
"I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. You're right. I should trust you. Just like you trust me. I'll work on it. I promise."
"Don't promise me that. Just show me that you love me just as much."
The words clicked. He did love her. And he cared about her. More than anyone in this world. And he wanted to show her. In the most physical way possible.
"C'mere."
"Why?"
"Just c'mere," he repeated as he grabbed her by her waist, pulling her closer to him. She stumbled, but Rafe's grip kept her in place. He moved his face closer to hers, lips almost touching as they grazed against each other.
He used the hand placed on her waist to grip the fabric of her dress. Pulling it upwards. Her breath hitched as he hand snaked under the red tulle and right onto her now soaking core. His pointy finger swept across the waistband of her panties.
Y/n wasn't expecting this as the outcome from their miniature argument but she wasn't complaining. And neither was Rafe.
He pushed her underwear down as much as he could from their position, before going back to her walls and making circular motions. Rafe finally closer the space, kissing her lips practically roughly as he continued rubbing her.
He kept a firm hand on her waist to make sure she had a gripping support if he legs gave out, which they indeed will. The motions stopped as Y/n pulled her lips away from his. Rafe stared at her daring eyes, questioning if she wanted his to continue.
"Put them inside me," she whispered. The Cameron smirked before obliging to her demand. He stuck to fingers into her wet cunt. A soft moan escaped her lips as he did so. Pumping them in and out of her. Y/n rubbed her hand against the erection in his dress pants.
"You like that, yeah?"
She nodded as the locked her lips. Not being able to speak because knowing if she did, she let out a loud moan and even at this club would hear.
She unbuckled his pants, putting her handninside to grip his penis and pump it as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. The hand he held to her waist was now gripped on her neck, gently. Y/n clenched around his fingers. Feeling her high come close. "Dont stop."
Rafe began pumping faster just as Y/n did so. The teens were so horny that they were both already reaching their extent. Rafe's shaft twitched in her hand. "I'm cumming."
"Do it for me."
That's all it took for Y/n to finish. And Rafe too. His liquids filling her hands as they both let out moans due to their intense actions. In one swift motion, Rafe snaked a hand around Y/n's waist turning then so she was against the counter. Her pulled the straps of her dress of her shoulders, leaving kisses as he did so before connecting his lips to hers.
Her pulled his tuxedo jacket off him. Snapping the bowtie off as well. Y/n moaned at the tluchnof his hands on her breast. Massaging them in his hands over the fabric of her strapless bra.
Y/n unbuttoned the spots on his shirt before pulling it off his shoulders and onto the floor. Rafe stop his gripping motions and pulled down his pants and boxers. He sat her up on the counter. Her bare ass connecting to the coldness of the marble designed setting.
Rafe rubbed his tip against her fold once or twice before pushing himself into her. Not giving a warning, but Y/n loved the suddeness. Y/n let a moan into his next as he began thrusting his hips. The girl gripping her black painted nails into his back.
Rafe's eyes rolled to the back of his head. Enjoying the feelings of Y/n's cunt wrapped around him.
"You like that?"
"Yes, god yes."
Y/n sat up, wrapping her arms around his neck. Each moan and huff she exposed in his earn make his whole body shiver. Rafe let out a grunt before answering. She clenched her walls around his dick. The dirty blonde groaned slamming into her body. "Do it again."
She did so. Clenching around around the boy as he slammed into her again. This time, hitting the spot that made her whole body go insane. "Tell me I'm yours."
"You're mine."
A moan escaped her lips after he said what she had wanted. Her hand smacked down onto the edge of the sinks counter. Grilling onto it for dear life. "Tell me it again."
The feeling of her finishing was fastly approaching. As well as for Rafe. The moans she let out made his go over the edge as he fucked her hard. "Tell me, Rafe."
"You're fucking mine, ah-"
Each of them let out a loud moan as they finished. Covering each others mouths. There shouldn't be anyone upstairs but for precautions they covered either way.
Rafe's head fell forward onto her chest. Taking large breaths as y/n did too. "Shit, y/n."
The Cameron pulled out of her. Helping her get redressed and cleaned just after he did himself.
"You're still on the pill right?" He asked as he zipped his pants.
"Yeah. It's fine," she smiled up at his 6'4 figure. Rafe reached down to kiss her passionately.
"I love you, Y/n."
"I love you, too."
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I Think He Knows - F.W.
Fred Weasley x Reader
Summary: Y/N gets drunk, and decides there's no better time to tell her boyfriend she loves him than the present.
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: Alcohol usage/intoxication!! Thereâs a make out scene. Also food. Otherwise mainly just fluff!
A/N: This is my first fic Iâve ever posted on here and the inspiration for it was born out of a drunken anon ask to @lumosandnoxwritingâ sooo here it is. Iâll probably end up writing another part about the next day and them recouping, but who knows. Totally open to any critiques/criticism/help anyone has to offer! Pictures are taken from Pinterest.
The flashing lights were bright and the music far too loud, but you didnât care. You had liquid courage flowing through your veins and it was making it increasingly easier to lose yourself on the dance floor. Typically, you werenât much of a dancer, but several shots of some pink liquid you had forgotten the name of had you abandoning all traces of your usual self. You swayed your hips to the rhythm of a song you didnât know, giggling every time you made eye contact with Alicia or Angelina.
As the song playing came to an end, you gripped your best friendsâ forearms and dragged them from the dance floor before another could start. You briefly heard their groans of protests but couldnât find it in yourself to care.
âI want another drink!â You shouted over the music, pulling them towards the bar.
âWe donât need another.â Alicia pointed out, but she was now following you on her own accord, which told you she wouldnât be protesting too much.
At the bar, you ordered another round of shots for the three of youâasking specifically for âwhatever the pink one is called.â The three of you clinked the small glasses together before raising them to your lips and throwing your heads back, allowing the liquid to leave a burning trail down your throat.Â
âIâm going to call him.â You announced brightly, slamming your glass down on the bar.
âY/N, we talked about this!â Angelina whined. âTonight is supposed to be girlâs night. Plus, Fredâs out with his friends. You should give him his space.â
âOh please, you act like that boy wouldnât drop everything to rush over here and be with her.â Alicia rolled her eyes lightly, a knowing smile lighting up her face.
Her words caused you to blush furiously, which you attempted to hide by sliding your cellphone out of your back pocket and bringing it to your face. The screen was too bright, but as you fumbled around with trying to turn it down, you came to realize just how drunk you really were. You quickly gave up on trying to turn down the brightness and instead opened up the call app, clicking at the button that read âRecentsâ before tapping the name right at the top. You barely registered Angelinaâs disappointed groan as you brought the phone to your ear.
âHello?âÂ
âFreddie!â You called out, a sweet giggle leaving your lips. You were filled with the most wonderful elation at speaking to your boyfriend, sending a flutter of butterflies alive through your stomach.
âOh, hello, Y/N.â The voice chuckled. âThis isnâtââ
âWhere are you?â You interrupted him, rocking slightly on your heels. Angelina was people watching those out on the dance floor, while Alicia had taken up flirting with some bloke next to her.
âWeâre still at Leeâs flat.â There was a pause, then he continued. âY/N, this is George you called. How drunk are you?â
âI donât think Iâm that drunk. Let me ask Angie.â You paused, putting the phone on speaker so your friend could answer for you. âAng, how drunk am I?â
âVery.â Angelina answered over the music, earning a laugh from George on the other end of the line. ââs that George? Lemme talk to him.â
Angelina took the phone from your hand, ignoring your pout as she did so, and switched it off of speaker mode. At first, you had tried to listen in on the conversation she was having with George, but you quickly got distracted. You hoisted yourself up into one of the bar seats, kicking your legs back and forth as you gazed around. After a few minutes, you were pulled from your drunken thoughts when Angelina nudged you with your phone.
âHe hung up?â You pouted as you looked at the black screen. âAre they coming here?â
âNo, theyâre staying at Leeâs.â Angelina shook her head. âBut they said theyâd meet us back at your flat when we leave here.â
âWell, letâs go!â You quickly went to jump down from the stool, only for Angelina to place her hands on your shoulders and hold you in place.
âUh uh, weâre gonna let you sober up a bit first.â She shook her head. âDonât want you doing something youâll regret tomorrow.â
âEspecially when we know youâll blame us.â Alicia now joined in, evidently blowing off the guy she had been flirting with only moments before.
Perhaps if you were even a little less drunk, you would have been annoyed by their statements. But currently, you were in a state of almost childlike happiness and wonder. You couldnât help but let your mind wander to thoughts of your boyfriend, causing a cheesy grin to rise to your face. The past 6 months together had been some of the best of your life, and you often found yourself wondering why you two hadnât gotten together sooner. You had always been friends during your Hogwarts years, but neither of you ever attempted to take that next step in your relationship until years after graduation. Now, you couldnât be more thankful with the change.
âIâm going to tell him I love him.â You declared, saying the words out loud as more of a way to convince yourself than to inform them.
âWhat?â Alicia sputtered, shooting a worried glance to Angelina. âYou mean, tonight?â
âI donât see why not.â You shrugged. âI mean, I do love him. Why shouldnât I tell him?â
âY/N/N, donât you think maybe you should wait until youâre sober?â Angelina looked at you hesitantly. âI mean, thatâs kind of a big step.â
âYou guys donât get it,â You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest like a child being scolded. In your drunken mind, you knew that they would never understand the ins and outs of your relationship with Fred. The two of you had never put pressure on things that others deemed âthe big stuff.â Everything always had just come so naturally between you two, and you were convinced this should be no different. A small voice in the back of your head told you that the sober version of you would disagree, but you pushed it away. Your decision was made.
âThis is like, exactly what we mean by you doing something youâll regret and blaming us.â Alicia sighed. âSo, you better not be mad at us tomorrow.â
âI wonât be, promise.â You affirmed.Â
How could this possibly go wrong?
About an hour later, Angelina and Alicia had enough of the club environment and had decided you were sober enough that they could safely walk you back to your flat. The three of you gathered your things and your excitement bubbled inside of you at the prospect of finally getting to see Fred. You nearly skipped out of the club, Alicia and Angelina trailing close behind you, and into the cool night air. Almost immediately, your eyes were drawn to two heads of red hair, backs to you, talking at the edge of the sidewalk. Although they were nearly identical, there was something about one of their postures and energy, and you just knew that it was Fred. Before Angelina or Alicia could stop you, you were running and jumping on your boyfriendâs back, nearly sending him tumbling over.
âFreddie!â You squealed, attaching your arms firmly around his middle as your feet replanted on the ground. He swiveled in your hold, a bout of laughter leaving his lips, as he took in your presence.
ââs good to see you too, love.â He slurred, bending down at a slightly awkward angle to pepper your face with kisses. You giggled at the tickling feeling his lips left behind.
âThought we were meeting you guys back at her flat?â Angelina questioned as she approached the three of you.
âThat was the plan, but Freddie here has had one too many glasses of firewhisky and decided he couldnât wait that long.â George rolled his eyes. âSaid heâd go with or without me to find you guys, so weâve just been waiting out here.â
âGreat, so theyâre both drunk off their asses.â Alicia feigned annoyance, but the small smile on her face as she gazed at her two friends public displays of affection showed that she wasnât truly bothered.
âAlright, love birds, itâs bloody freezing out.â George clapped a hand down on Fredâs shoulder, pulling the older twinâs attention away from you for the first time. âLetâs get going, yeah?â
Fred nodded and held out his hand for you to take, which you happily accepted. The two of you lead the others, swinging your hands between you as you walked down the sidewalk. The entire time, you whispered and giggled back and forth, finding anything and everything to be the funniest thing you ever heard.
âYour hand is so tiny.â Fred giggled, halting your swinging motion to bring your interlaced fingers up and examine them.Â
âIs not.â You pouted. You attempted to pull your hand from his, but his grip on you was firm. He used your conjoined hands to pull you closer to him, causing you to stumble slightly, which of course resulted in both of you giggling even more. Fred placed a kiss on each of your knuckles before letting both of your hands fall comfortably between you again.
âIt is, but itâs cute.â He looked down at you dreamily, as if you were the most perfect thing he had ever laid his eyes on. In an instant, all of his drunk giddiness seemed to fade and he became uncharacteristically serious. âHow did I get so lucky?â
âHm.â You pretended to ponder the question, bringing your free hand up to tap your chin. âDunno. I still think you must have me under some spell or potion.â
âOh, right, how could I forget?â He grinned. âThat reminds me, Iâve gotta make another batch of love potion before this one wears off and you leave me.â
âWouldnât want that, would we?â You teased back, knocking your shoulder into his.
âNever.â And you could tell, he was serious.
Up ahead you could see the familiar outline of your building. You hadnât realized just how tired your feet were from walking in your heels, and you longed for nothing more than to slip them off and lie in Fredâs arms for the rest of the night. Nerves began to bubble in your stomach the closer you got, because you knew that meant you were just another step closer to finally telling him. While you hadnât faltered in your decision, as you began to sober up slightly, you couldnât help but be anxious for how he would respond.Â
âDo we need to help you two get in?â George questioned once you finally were outside your building.
âWeâll be okay.â Fred shook his head. You cuddled into his side for warmth, causing him to raise your entangled hands and wrap his arm around your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, causing a dopey smile to rise onto your face.
âYouâre sure?â Angelina looked between the two of you with raised brows. In response, you simply nodded. âOkay, well, call me tomorrow, alright?â
Both Alicia and Angelina sent you one last glance, one that you knew communicated how they didnât encourage what you had told them earlier, before they all nodded and offered goodbyes, carrying on their way. Fred untangled your hands and removed his arm from your shoulder to open the door, dramatically bowing forward and extending an arm to allow you to enter first.
âAfter you, mâlady.â
You giggled loudly at his antics, skipping into the building and beginning towards the stairs. Fred was hot on your heels, causing you to quicken your pace and run ahead of him, his laughter ringing out behind you as he tried to catch up to you. Just as you turned on the first landing to continue up the steps, Fredâs hands caught your waist and began ticking your sides, causing your laughter to increase. You did your best to wriggle out of his grasp, which was much easier to do in his drunken state, and continued up the steps. Once on your floor, you quickly turned the corner and found the way to your flat, fumbling with your keys to get in before Fred caught up.
Unfortunately for you, you couldnât seem to find the right key let alone slide it in to unlock the door, so Fred was able to catch up as you fumbled. You forgot your efforts and instead turned around and blocked the door, a drunken smirk on your face as you gazed up at your boyfriend.
âSorry, youâre not allowed in.â You teased, crossing your arms over your chest.
âYouâre really going to leave your sweet, loving boyfriend out in the hall, after he went out of his way to safely walk you back from the club?âÂ
âMhm.â You nodded. âThat is, unless you can tell me the password.â
Fred pretended to think for a moment, before he swooped his head down and pressed your lips together in a kiss. It was clumsy, both of your mouths seeming just a bit off center, but it was clear that neither of you cared. You tangled your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible, as he pressed your back against the door. He pulled back first, leaving you in lovesick bliss.
âDid you kiss the fat lady like that every time you forgot the password?â You teased once you were able to find your voice.
âOnly sometimes.â Fred teased back.
You rolled your eyes playfully before unwinding your hands from behind his head and finally, successfully unlocking your front door. You pulled Fred into the flat by his collar, dragging him all the way to your living room before dropping down onto the couch and shuffling to let him cuddle up behind you.Â
For a few moments, you both laid tangled in each otherâs arms, listening to nothing but his heartbeat. The sound was rhythmic, and you knew if you didnât speak up soon youâd fall asleep any minute. But, you werenât ready to fall asleep yet. You wanted to stay up, to talk to him, to tell him exactly what was on your mind. So, you shifted awkwardly and held yourself up on your forearms to gaze at him.
ââm hungry.â You declared, your bottom lip jutting out into a pout as you put on your best puppy dog eyes.
ââs too late to order something.â Fred sighed. âLemme go look at what you have in your fridge.â
You sat up to let him get up, resisting the urge to sigh at his absence. From the kitchen, you could hear the familiar clatter as he riffled through your pots and pans and opened and closed various cupboards. Somehow the sound was like the sweetest melody. It was like a soundtrack of pure bliss, a reminder that he was there, with you, and that you were happy. In the simplest terms.
You shifted to lay down on your back and stare up at your ceiling, breathing in what you could only describe as domestic bliss. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didnât even hear him re-enter the room, your focus only being drawn away when the couch shifted from his weight. He lifted your legs to rest in his lap, his hand lightly rubbing up and down your ankle at a soothing rhythm.
âGot a quesadilla cooking.â He declared, his eyes tracing up and down your figure as you moved to sit up and look at him.
âCouldnât stay away from me long enough to watch it?â You teased lightly.
âCan you blame me?â Fred grinned at you, giving your ankle a light squeeze.
You giggled at the contact before sitting up further, swinging your legs around to straddle his waist. You let your arms rest around his neck, a dopey smile on your face as you fiddled with the short hairs there. Fred leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against yours, causing you both to giggle further.Â
âYouâre my favorite person in the world, you know that?â Fred breathed out, bringing your foreheads to rest together.Â
His words caused the familiar butterflies to erupt in your stomach, your smile widening even further. Some part of you knew this would be the perfect moment to tell him exactly how you felt. To tell him that your days are just a bit darker when heâs not around, and how he can make you laugh even when you want nothing more than to cry. You wanted to tell him how whenever he was gone on business trips, you could only fall asleep if you were wearing one of the old t-shirts he had left at your flat, or how you always seem to find something that made you think of him no matter where you were. But, your drunken brain was far from articulate, and your nerves seemed to have a firm grasp on your tongue, so instead, you simply pressed your lips to his.
Fred kissed you back passionately, and it was clear that neither of you minded that both of your mouths held the aftertastes of different alcohols. His lip glided along your bottom lip as his hands found your hips, steadying your movements. When you knocked your teeth together in the drunken kiss, you both pulled back for a moment to giggle, before the passion resumed.
Things seemed to carry on like that for several minutes, wanting nothing more than to be close to one another in every way possible, to be tangled up in anyway that you could, but having to pause every little bit to let out drunken giggles at the situation. You were certain no one had ever gotten you the way Fred Weasley got you, that no one could make you feel so comfortable, and that you were irrevocably in love with him.
Your sweet moment together was brought to a halt by the sound of a loud screeching coming from the kitchen. It took a moment for your brain to recognize it as the sound of your smoke alarm, but once it did you both were to your feet and rushing into the kitchen. Fred cursed under his breath at the clouds of smoke rising from the skillet and quickly set to turn off the burner. You grabbed a drying towel from the counter and began to wave it by the alarm, attempting to cease the godawful beeping it was letting out. After a few minutes, the sound did cease and the smoke cleared, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.
âItâs burnt.â Fred pouted, lifting the skillet to show you the blackened quesadilla.Â
You werenât sure if it was the childlike expression on his face or the fact that you both had entirely forgotten about it in the first place, but you couldnât help but erupt into a fit of laughter. Fred looked at you for a moment as if he were offended by your giggling, before turning his attention the burnt quesadilla, then back to you, and beginning to laugh as well. It was all so absurd and truthfully far from funny, but in that moment, nothing could make you laugh harder.
Fred slid the quesadilla in the garbage before placing the skillet in the sink, resigning to washing it later. In the meantime, you had grabbed the bag of shredded cheese and hoisted yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs as you scooped out a handful of the cheese and began to eat it.
Fred turned and smiled fondly at your actions, crossing the kitchen to settle himself between your legs. He opened his mouth and you wordlessly registered what he was requesting, leaning forward to drop some of the cheese into his mouth. Both of you continued to giggle lightly, feeling nothing but elation as you remained in each otherâs presence.Â
You raised your hand to offer Fred a bit more of the cheese, smiling warmly when he opened his mouth to accept some. The two of you werenât as in sync as you might normally be, considering your varying levels of intoxication, and as you dropped some of the cheese onto his tongue you were too slow to remove your hand and he was too quick to bite down, causing him to nip your finger lightly.
You pulled your hand back hastily and Fredâs eyes widened as if he had just mortally wounded you. He swallowed the remaining cheese in his mouth before speaking up, taking your hand in his to examine it.
âDid I hurt you? Are you okay? Merlin, I am so sorry. Are you bleeding? You must be bleeding.â
You werenât.Â
His rambling and concern for you caused you to tilt your head back and let out a loud bout of laughter.Â
ââm fine, Freddie.â You assured, leaning forward to press your lips to his and squash his worries.Â
Fred brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the finger he had just bit, nodding to himself after as if to convince himself that now you were fine. Truly, it was just about the cutest thing you had ever seen.
You spent the next few moments polishing off the bag of shredded cheese, Fred abundantly more careful not to nip your fingers anymore. You chatted lightly, talking about every drunk thing that crossed your mind. Once the cheese was gone Fred poured the both of you a glass of water, sloshing it around slightly as he tried to balance them both in one hand and extend the other to you. You hopped down from the counter and accepted his hand, allowing him to guide you back to your bedroom. He spilled nearly half of each water on the way, mostly on himself, but neither of you could find it in you to care.Â
Once inside, you threw yourself down into the center of your bed, extending your hands out in a grabbing motion as Fred set the glasses on your nightstand. Neither of you could be bothered to change into pajamas, so you settled by kicking off your shoes and doing your best to get comfortable in the dress you sported.Â
Fred kicked off his shoes as well before crawling over to you and collapsing nearly entirely on you. He laid on his stomach and wound his arms around your waist, his head finding the crook of your neck and pressing a few soft kisses there. You wound your arms around his neck, your legs tangling together. Truthfully, it wasnât exactly comfortable, but you had him close, and that was all that mattered.
You listened to the sound of his breathing as he slowly drifted off to sleep. Your mind was screaming at you to say the words that had been plaguing you almost all night, before it was too late. Now was your chance.
But, then, you noticed that Fredâs breathing had shallowed significantly and light snores had begun to leave his lips. You breathed out a sigh of disappointment from missing your opportunity, mentally cursing yourself and your nerves.
As if the sleeping boy in your arms could read your thoughts, his grip around you tightened, holding onto you as if his life depended on it. The small action brought a smile to your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.
Perhaps you could wait to tell him that you loved him until the morning. Besides, some part of you was aware that he already knew.
#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x you#weasley twins#Fred Weasley fanfic#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley
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i know they're losing (Chapter 1)
hi mothers and fuckers of the jury, this fic is a hot mess but so am I, please appreciate it. Also, obligatory disclaimer this is about the characters not the people, all that important stuff.
Some important notes:
1. You will probably hate Scott just a little at points. He has chronic dumb bitch syndrome and there's a whole lot of bullshit going on in his life that you don't see in this fic because it's not his pov. That being said, he's still a bit of a jerk.
2. This has a lot of lord of the rings lore. A LOT. You may be kinda confused if you're not a lord of the rings fan. It's fine, Jimmy's confused too, and all of it will be explained at some point.
3. The chapter titles are from the Last Goodbye from the Hobbit films. The general title is from I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski.
4. General content warnings: there is a little blood, and a little violence, and a lot of mentioned death and morbid jokes. If you don't do well with themes involving death this fic is probably not for you. There is also possibly going to be referenced emotional abuse and generally unhealthy ways to raise children, though that will be talked about much further down the line. I will also put specific cws at the start of each chapter, don't worry!
5. The alternate title for this was '10k words of flower husbands being sad'. You have been warned.
Title: i know they're losing
Chapter Title: under clouds, beneath the stars
Current Total Wordcount: 3740
Content Warning: referenced/past character death, very frank discussion of death.
Snippet:
Scott whirls to face him, robes spinning behind him. âIâm fading, alright? Iâm dying, now leave me alone!â
Jimmy feels like heâs been smacked in the face, the words hitting him with all the force of a well-thrown trident. Dying? âYou- what- but elves donât die, right?â
âWe do. From poison, from swords, from arrows through the throat-â Jimmyâs hands fly to the scar on his neck, the one that matches Scottâs own- âfrom grief.â
AO3 Link
Actual fic under the cut
Scottâs hands are cold. Thatâs the first sign, the chill thatâs uncharacteristic of an elf.
Scottâs chest hurts. Thatâs the second sign, the bone-deep ache he canât seem to quell.
Scott is weaker than normal, and thatâs the third sign, the one that confirms whatâs happening beyond a shadow of a doubt. Heâs fading, Scott thinks as he leans against a wall, trying to stop his head from spinning. He canât say heâs surprised, not after all heâs been through; in fact, heâs more astonished it took so long to start.
-
In another world, it happens like this:
Scottâs hands are cold, and Shubble notices as he shows her around the nether. Itâs worrying, a bit, how icy his skin is even in the boiling dimension, but Scottâs empire has always been cold, hasnât it?
Katherine notices how long itâs been since Scott visited her, one of his few allies, and she worries, a bit. But Scott has always been distant, hasnât he?
No one notices or worries enough to go check on him, and Scott fades away to nothing, cold and alone in his icy empire.
-
What actually happens is this:
Katherine has gotten word of the demon that haunts the server, and amongst all her worry, one of her thoughts is âhas anyone checked on Scott?â. The answer is no, and next time she has a free day, she sets out for Rivendell. Itâs not a long trip, not with elytra, anyways, and soon sheâs at the doors to his keep.
âI need to see Lord Smajor,â she tells the guards.
âHeâs not taking visitors right now.â is the response she gets.
âItâs a vital matter to the safety of both our kingdoms.â
They let her in.
Katherine spends far too long looking around the elegantly decorated downstairs and storage area before she realizes he must be up the spiral staircase in the corner of the room. Sheâs never been upstairs in Scottâs house before, which makes her a little nervous, but⌠this is an urgent matter, so she presses on into what turns out to be a very pretty bedroom. Decorated with bookshelves aplenty and gorgeous lanterns, it practically screams Scott.
The man (elf?) himself is harder to spot. At first, Katherineâs worried he isnât there at all, but eventually she realizes that heâs still in bed despite the fact that itâs a quarter to one, only his pale face sticking out from under the covers.
âScott?â She asks, cautious. âLord Smajor?â
He blinks at her tiredly. âHi, Katherine.â
âI came to talk to you about some empires stuff, but, I mean, if this is a bad time, I can come back laterâŚ?â
âNo, no, stay.â He waves at the sole chair in the room, which is near-enough to the bed. âI can muster the energy for a meeting, just donât ask me to get up.â
Katherine takes the seat hesitantly. âI came to talk about the corruption on the server, but- are you okay? Are you sick?â
Scott laughs, a little bitter. âIn a way, yes.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âTake my hand.â
She obeys, confused, and finds that Scottâs hands are like ice despite the warmth of the room.
âElves donât get sick like mortals do,â Scott says. âNor do we die of old age. But we get...heartsickness, you might call it. We call it fading in our tongue- the cold hands are a symptom of that. Our souls are fragile, and the grief of the mortal plane can be overwhelming. If an elf is too struck by it, they fade away and die.â
She gasps a little.
âIt usually happens to old elves, world-weary,â Scott continues. âThose who are tired of existence. But any elf who has experienced enough grief is at risk.â
It takes Katherine a moment to process everything, and once she does, she stares at him in horror. âYouâre- fading? But doesnât it usually happen to old elves? Wait, are you old?â
âIâm fifty-five.â
âIs that old?â
That gets a laugh out of him. âFifty is the elven equivalent of eighteen for humans, the age of maturity.â
âOh.â She struggles for words for a moment, settling on âHow can you be so calm if youâre dying?â
âIâm tired, Katherine. The world tore me away from the people I loved, and..Iâm tired of fighting it.â
Try as she might, thereâs nothing she can say to that. âIs there a way to reverse fading- to fix it?â
Something pained and raw flashes through his eyes. âTechnically, yes. If an elf recovers enough emotionally, itâs reversible. But whatever caused them to fade the first time can- and often does- cause it again.â
Katherine nods seriously, absorbing the information. âWeâll just have to reverse it, then.â
âThatâs sweet, Katherine, but Iâm dying.â
âNo,â she tells him firmly. âYouâre not going to die. Now come on, you can show me your empire while I fill you in on whatâs happening on the rest of the continent.â
Scott stares at her for a long moment, but eventually he takes her outstretched hand. âAlright.â His hand is frozen cold in hers. âWe can try.â
Katherine lets him lead her around Rivendell, pointing out the sights. Heâs done an impressive job decorating, like her, and an even more impressive job at uniting the elves and building an empire from the ground up. The people of Rivendell are weary and battle-scarred, for the most part, elves who have seen too much, but the children are bright and happy, and the cyan and gold banners wave proudly in the wind.
As they walk, she also tells Scott about the demon, Xornoth. âThe demonâs already visited a lot of people, I think. Gem and Shubble for sure, and Fwhip and Sausage. Thatâs not even mentioning the corruption thatâs been spreading.â
Scott nods. âThereâs corruption in Rivendell too. Likely Xornothâs work. And given that Jimmy still has Vilya- well, I havenât been able to do much.â
âVilya?â
âA ring of power. My inheritance from the Noldor.â
âWhy does Jimmy have it?â
He doesnât answer that one.
Katherine leaves feeling unsettled, with more questions than answers. She has new resolve, though, and a new goal: keep Scott from fading. Heâs a good friend, though they donât know each other that well yet, but more than that, heâs a powerful ally. And Katherine canât afford to lose allies. So while theyâre both rulers and busy in their own right, she promises to visit and drag him outside at least once a week.
âIâll hold you to that,â Scott jokes, but his laugh is weak.
Katherine vows to hold herself to it.
-
The plan works for three entire weeks before Katherine has a week thatâs so busy thereâs no way she can find the time for a trip to Rivendell. Worse than that, because Scott is so isolated, he has almost no other friends, and many of Katherineâs allies are busy too. Sheâs a little short of options, to be honest, which is how she finds herself on Jimmy Solidarityâs doorstep that Sunday afternoon.
âHello?â Jimmy asks as the door swings open. Katherine can see why Lizzie calls him the sweet swamp boy- his confused head tilt is frankly adorable.
âHi! I know we donât talk much, but I could use a favor,â she says.
âWhat can I do for you?â
âI need you to visit Scott.â
Jimmy looks beyond startled. âWhat- I mean, he doesnât even like me! I couldnât possibly.â
âPlease?â She wheedles. âI promised him a visitor every week, but I have meetings all week this time.â
He shakes his head, hesitantly at first and then stronger. âNo, Katherine. Heâd just throw me right out again. Iâm his enemy, for goodness sake!â
âIf he hates you so much, why do you have his ring?â
Katherine knows sheâs won, watching emotions flit across his face too quickly to catch. Grief is what he settles on, and she feels a little bit bad for the ring comment when his voice comes out wobbly.
âI guess I should return that, huh? Alright, Iâll go.â
âSorry,â she says.
Jimmy brushes it off, saying thereâs no need to worry, but he fiddles with the ring on his finger all the more. Itâs on his left ring finger, Katherine notes. She wonders if that truly means what it implies.
âIâll visit him tomorrow,â Jimmy says.
âIâll hold you to that!â
-
Jimmy isnât sure why he agreed to this at all, to be honest. Scott may have given him this ring in another world, another lifetime, but that doesnât mean Scott doesnât hate him in this one. What other explanation is there for how all his gifts have been rejected, how cold the elf is? Jimmy would be surprised that Scottâs never tried to take his ring back if it wasnât for how thoroughly Scott avoids him nowadays. Getting the ring back would require talking to Jimmy, something Scott has made it very clear that he doesnât want to do. Jimmy doesnât have another use for it, and try as he might to forget flower fields and warm hands in his, he canât bear to throw it away. So itâs remained on his hand all this time, a painful reminder of someone who used to love him.
Jimmy tries to avoid looking at it as much as possible, every glimpse bringing back the memory of Scott gently sliding it onto his hand, a faint blush dusting his cheeks and a smile on his lips. Even the faint shimmers in the blue gem remind him of how the starlight seemed to get caught in Scottâs hair when they were out at night. The ring had been one of their most valuable possessions on 3rd Life, the rare silver band and elegant forging more than proof of that. Now, though, the ring has to be one of the least valuable things Jimmy owns; on 3rd Life, they were humble folk in little hobbit holes, their most expensive possessions being their diamond armor and swords, but here, theyâre kings and lords. Scott probably has a thousand treasures more valuable in his elven empire, so Jimmyâs not sure why heâs bothering to trek all the way across the world just to return this one.
Then again, itâs not really about the ring, and never has been. Itâs about the way starlight used to shine in Scottâs eyes when he smiled, his rare, soft grin that was reserved just for Jimmy, how he gave Jimmy the most valuable thing either of them owned. Itâs closure, in a way, giving it back. He wonât have any debt to Scott once this ring is returned, and they can both move on like Scott so clearly wants to.
Shaking off those thoughts, Jimmy slows to a stop in front of Scottâs house. Itâs grand, nothing like his old hobbit hole, but still so clearly Scott in the decoration and color schemes. Jimmy would know who built it even if he hadnât known Scott lived in these mountains.
âIâm here to visit Scott,â he says to the guard stationed outside.
They raise an eyebrow, presumably at the familiar way he refers to Scott. âOn formal business or personal?â
âPersonal? Sort of? I mean, I donât have any diplomatic reason for being here.â Truth be told, he has no reason to be here at all, really, but...the ring.
âThen Lord Smajor cannot see you.â
Jimmy grits his teeth, suddenly furious at this whole ordeal. âThen tell Lord Smajor that I need to return his ring.â
âMay I see it?â
He sticks his hand out obligingly, and the guard examines the ring, surprise blooming across their face. âI did not realize my Lord had lent you Vilya! My apologies, Lord Codfather, I see the alliance between our kingdoms is stronger than I had assumed. You may pass.â
Vilya? âThank you, gentle, uh, gentleperson!â
The guard dips their head slightly as he walks by, a gesture of respect that he doesnât think heâll ever get used to. He shakes off the strangeness of the interaction, though, pushing open the door to Scottâs house.
The inside is beautiful, exactly the kind of decor Scott loves...and empty. Thereâs no one in the spacious kitchen, the storage room, or anywhere else for that matter. Jimmyâs seconds from giving up and going home when he realizes that there are stairs up to the balcony above. Thatâs where he goes, finding himself in Scottâs bedroom.
Which is awkward, to say the least. Itâs not like they never slept in the same room when they were married, but now that thereâs this awkward, painful distance between them, Jimmy feels like heâs intruding. Whatâs worse is, Scottâs still in bed, laying on his side with his face tilted away from Jimmyâs awkward entrance.
âHello, Jimmy.â
Jimmy half-jumps, not expecting that. âHowâd you know it was me?â
Scott rolls over to face him, and Jimmy notes that his face is too pale for it to be natural or healthy. âDo you think I could ever forget the sound of your footsteps?â He goes on before Jimmy can answer. âWhat are you doing here?â
âKatherine asked me to visit, Iâm not sure why, but...here I am. Say, why is she visiting every week?â
Scottâs laugh is bitter. âKatherine thinks she can save me.â
âSave you from what?â Jimmy asks, concerned despite himself.
His (ex?)husband doesnât reply.
âSave you from what?â Jimmy presses, and gets no answer yet again.
Instead, Scott sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. âYou should go.â He stands, and immediately stumbles, Jimmy rushing to steady him on instinct. Scottâs hands are like ice when he grips Jimmyâs arm to regain his balance, taking several deep breaths, and Jimmyâs instantly struck by how wrong that feels. Scottâs hands were always warm, even on the coldest nights in 3rd life. Some elven thing, probably, that Scott didnât want to talk about or have time to explain to a silly human like Jimmy.
âScott, what is going on?â
The elf brushes him off again, heading for the stairs, but the regal effect is ruined by how hard he has to grip the railing.
âScott, seriously! Answer me, are you okay? Whatâs happening?â
Scott whirls to face him, robes spinning behind him. âIâm fading, alright? Iâm dying, now leave me alone!â
Jimmy feels like heâs been smacked in the face, the words hitting him with all the force of a well-thrown trident. Dying? âYou- what- but elves donât die, right?â
âWe do. From poison, from swords, from arrows through the throat-â Jimmyâs hands fly to the scar on his neck, the one that matches Scottâs own- âfrom grief.â Scott turns back to the stairs. âCome on. If youâre not going to leave, I might as well show you around.â
Jimmy follows, reluctantly, trying to think of something to say that isnât incoherent sputtering with a bit of âwhy do you hate me nowâ added in. âYou canât just drop something like that on a man, you know!â
âYou did ask, to be fair.â
Why oh why is he so stupid around Scott? âI guess so, but- but still, dude.â
Scott pushes open the side door, holding it for Jimmy. âHere.â
Jimmy nods and slips through the door. âThank you.â
âDonât mention it.â
They start along the path, Scott walking far too quickly for Jimmyâs comfort given how terrible the elfâs balance is currently. He nearly has to jog to keep up, irritatingly, but at least they arenât snapping at each other for a few precious moments.
Of course, Jimmy has to go and ruin that. âSo, uh..are we going to talk about 3rd life?â He has to hear it from Scottâs own lips that he remembers, that it affected him even half as much as itâs affected Jimmy.
âNo.â
âWhy not? We need to talk about it some time-â
âI said no .â
âItâs literally killing you to not talk about it!â
Scott freezes, face going icy calm in the way Jimmy knows means heâs actually upset. The elfâs hands grip the fabric of his robes tight, his back going rigid. This is a bad idea, Jimmy knows.
Heâs in too deep to back out now, though, the pent-up hurt of the past few months all coming out in a rush. âTell me Iâm wrong, Scott! I dare you, tell me Iâm wrong! Tell me you never cared about me, tell me you didnât bother to bury me, tell me it didnât hurt even a little when I died! Tell me I was just stupid little Jimmy, a toy for an elf whoâd live far beyond my lifespan! Tell me whatever, just tell me the truth! â
Scott breathes out slowly, fury gradually building on his face. âFine. You want to know what happened after you died? You want to hear about me screaming until my throat went raw? You want to know that I kissed your face and sobbed and begged you to wake up, over and over until I couldnât speak at all? You want to live with the knowledge that Grian had to physically pull me away from your body? Is that what you want to hear, Jimmy ?â
Jimmyâs name on Scottâs lips punches all the remaining air out of him, sounding so wrong in that angry, bitter tone. Beneath all the rage, Scott sounds wrecked , and the fight leaves Jimmyâs body abruptly. âNo,â he says softly. âThatâs not what I want to hear, not at all. Iâd rather you be happy than love me.â
Silence follows those words, only the faint sound of a waterfall in the distance there to break it.
âI buried you on the hill above our houses,â Scott says finally. âI planted a poppy over your grave.â
âOh.â
âGrian came over the next day. I didnât want to see anyone who wasnât you, but I let him in because I had to. He helped me do the straps on my armor and asked me if he could do anything else to make things easier. I told him to bury me next to you.â
Jimmy swallows hard. âDid he?â
âHow would I know?â Scottâs tone softens, just a little. âGrian was honorable enough, though, loyal to his allies. I like to think he did.â
âHe was a good guy,â Jimmy agrees. âA little bit bloodthirsty, I guess, but good. I donât suppose he survived any better than the rest of us, though maybe being bloodthirsty helped.â
âMaybe.â
âCan I- can I ask you why you hate me so much now? I mean, if you mourned me in third life and all.â
Scott turns away again, starting down the path a second time. Heâs not looking at Jimmy when he says âI donât hate you.â
âYou donât?â Itâs a shock, honestly, given that this is the first time the two of them have really spoken since the beginning of empires. âBut you burned the pufferfish-â
âI didnât. I kept it.â Scott still wonât look at him. âI never hated you. I donât think Iâm capable of it.â
âThen why do you keep avoiding me?â
âIâve been kind of busy dying,â Scott says dryly, and Jimmy doesnât even realize itâs a joke until he looks over at Scottâs wry little grin.
âScott! Thatâs not funny!â He scolds, aghast.
âIt was a little funny.â
âNo!â
Scott must hear the genuine distress in Jimmyâs voice because he drops the act. âJimmy, Iâm an elf. I wonât live far beyond you, but only because Iâll fade without you.â
âSo your solution is to isolate yourself and fade now?â Jimmy demands.
âIt does sound stupid when you put it like that, doesnât it? But I lost you once, and I donât think I could bear it again.â
Jimmy wants to argue, wants to fight him on this, but thereâs nothing he can say. Instead, he puts a hand on Scottâs arm to stop him walking any further. Scott turns to look at him, seemingly startled, and Jimmy throws his arms around the elf.
Scott stiffens before slowly relaxing, arms coming up to wrap around Jimmy in return. Itâs not as natural a gesture as it used to be, but itâs warm, gentle in a way Jimmy thought heâd never get again. It reminds him of the soft, starry-eyed boy who put flowers in his hair and laughed at him over a cake. Scott will never be that soft again and Jimmy will never be unscarred, but theyâre here. Theyâre alive, that has to count for something.
Scott pulls back, his expression so achingly tender and heartbroken all at once. âIâm sorry, Jimmy.â His voice is raw, a little shaky. âI canât. Not again.â
âBut-â
Heâs cut off by Scott shaking his head. âLosing you will destroy me. We dared to love, and now all we can do now is lessen the pain when it all comes crashing down.â
Jimmyâs in too much shock to speak, the ache in his heart returning tenfold as Scott turns back towards the house.
âGoodbye, Jimmy.â He sweeps away, elegant as ever, but stumbles and nearly falls as he reaches the door. Jimmyâs not there to catch him.
Jimmy stumbles home in a daze. It's somewhat of a miracle that no mob manages to kill him, honestly. To be so close to a resolution, to have the person he wanted most right there in his arms, and then to have all that ripped away- he canât think of anything that could have hurt more. Even his deaths were less painful than this- at least an arrow through the throat is quicker than feeling like your heart is being ripped out through your ribs, Jimmy thinks, a little bitter. He throws Scottâs stupid ring in a pool in the swamp, watching as it sinks to the bottom of the shallow water with hardly a bubble.
Wait.
The ring.
Itâs significant, somehow, according to a Rivendell guard, and more than that, itâs an excuse to see Scott again. One last chance to change his mind about the stupid plan thatâs literally killing him.
Jimmy dives in without thinking, scrabbling around until his fingers close around the smooth stone and thin band. When he pulls it out, the gem glitters in the starlight even under the layers of dirt, and it looks like something special. It looks like hope.
#scott smajor#jimmy solidarity#flower husbands#uhh#empires smp#i wont tag 3rd life since its only referenced#my writing
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INTERVIEW
Request:Â âSomething in the lines of reader playing reggies gf on the shows s2 and she becomes bffs with charlie but people keep shipping them. Something in like interview style or so....â
Description: FLUFF
1811 Words
Warnings: one curse word!
Charlie x Reader, Featuring Jeremy
Hope you like it!!
Press was always an exciting time as an actor, but even more so with this cast because of what happened before press events for season one. Their virtual press was great, but you can tell how excited they all were to experience it together this time around. Julie and the Phantoms was the best job I had gotten since moving out to LA. Honestly, it could be my big break. I was playing opposite Jeremy as his love interest, but our off-screen relationship was strictly platonic. Obviously, he and Carolynn are married and she is the sweetest. Jeremy is more of a mentor to me.
I sat in between Charlie and Jeremy for our first interview of the day when a production assistant came in and prepped us for the topics for this interview. Each interview has a slightly different focus, so itâs helpful that we know before we get started. The soft-spoken man raddled off some talking points: Charlieâs sleeves, Jeremyâs new character arc, my relationships/experience joining the cast, and then all of us would have time to add in stories of our choice if there was time. Easy. This cast makes it really easy to connect and bond. They are a family and I am so lucky to be a member of it now.
What I didnât expect was to get so close to Charlie during rehearsals and filming in Vancouver. The two of us were instantly inseparable. He came to watch my film on set, I came to watch him. We rehearsed our lines together almost every night after long days, and Owen even considered me his other roommate because of all the nights I was asleep on their couch. Hanging out with Charlie felt like we had known each other our entire lives, but it had only been about a year.
Interviewer: âSo, y/n, you seem really well connected to this cast, even though youâre sort of the new kid in the group. Would you mind telling me how you felt about joining this project?â
Y/N: âOh I definitely felt welcomed right into the group. I remember my first night in Vancouver, Charlie came to check out my apartment, Owen came too, and I remember Charlie and I trying to prank Owen when he fell asleep on the couch but it was an epic fail. We had water and shaving cream all over the floor and ourselves, oh my god it was a mess, but thatâs kinda the proof of how fast I became part of the group. Night one and they were already including me in their fun. The same goes with the girls, Jadah, Madi, Sav, Tori- we immediately were meeting for breakfast before filming together and having movie nights. It was the best welcome I could have imagined, knowing how close they all were from last season.â
Interviewer: âJeremy, what was it like having this new energy come in, especially to shake things up for your character Reggie, who really was much of the comedic relief last season, but now has this mutually flirty relationship with y/nâs character?â
Jeremy: âWell, it was great having y/n come in and it allowed us all to explore Reggie outside of his quirky one-liners. Itâs not that hard acting opposite, y/n, the talent they bring in was insane and we got along really well so it made it a lot of fun exploring Reggie as somewhat of a âladies manâ.â
Interviewer: âYes it was fun getting to see more of who Reggie is, or was? Spoiler alert if you havenât seen season one, Reggie is dead. All the boys are dead. Anyway, speaking of seeing more of something- Charlie, I noticed the sleeves on all your shirts this season were barely there. Is this a Charlie characteristic that just carried over to show off or was this specifically written for Luke?â
Charlie: âOh gosh, haha. I think itâs a little bit of both. I definitely bring a lot of myself to Luke, but even in season one, Soyon, our amazing costume and wardrobe supervisor, was cutting the sleeves off Lukeâs shirts. I think it played into his 1995 bad boy persona, and now itâs just him.â
Y/N: âand you just like showing off...hahaha!â
Charlie: âIf you got it, flaunt it!â With that, all three of us and the interviewer were cracking up laughing and Charlie was flexing which kept us going a minute longer.
Interviewer: âAH,â they sighed, âY/N, the internet is freaking out about you, truly, because of some photos of you with Mr. Gillespie over here. Let me read some things for you - âmy heart is broken because I canât have Charlie, but at least y/n can. I ship it,â under an Instagram photo of you two the caption reads âship it so hard itâs like the Titanic,â which is my favorite. Itâs too funny. So my question is, what is going on here? Is there a secret showmance that youâre hiding behind Reggie?â
Charlie and I are now laughing hysterically again. I donât think the interviewer realizes how nervous our laughing sounds compared to before, but hopefully, itâs not noticeable to fans or the rest of the cast. I wasnât expecting to get questions about Charlie and my relationship when I was supposed to be talking about my character, the whole experience, and all my scenes with Jeremy.
Y/N: âOh no, no, no. We are friends! Nothing is going on,â I looked over at Charlie who had his eyes locked on me most admiringly. He was going to let me handle this however I wanted. âCharlie and I just happened to click right away during rehearsals and now I feel like heâs the older brother I never had!â
Charlie looked a little hurt at that âbrotherâ comment, but he jumped in to echo what I had said.
Charlie: âYa know, the fans are so great. They love to keep up with our lives and find little hidden clues in the show about the backstory, and I think thatâs just what happened with our friendship. Weâre best friends, we have so many inside jokes, we hang out a LOT. But, Nah, nothing is going on here. Itâs cute though that they ship us! Look out, Jere! Iâm stealing your girl!.â
Interviewer: âYou heard it here first everyone, Mr. Gillespie isnât off the market! Thank you all for your time today. Everyone make sure to check out season two of Julie and the Phantoms, now on Netflix!â
*****************************
After a long first day of press, I was finally walking back into my hotel room in New York when my phone went off.
I tossed my stuff on the couch and plopped down to see what I had missed all day. Charlie had just texted me asking to meet him on the roof.
âThe roof?!â I grunted, âHow did he even get on the roof?â Back out the door, I followed signs to the roof. Swinging the door open once I got up there, my breath was taken away. New York City right at dusk, with the cool breeze hitting me, was so beautiful.
âGillespie, are we allowed to be up here?â
âKenny said weâre less likely to be followed or have our picture taken together if we were up here and came up separately. So, if we get in trouble, itâs on Kenny...â
âThe view is amazing. Not surprised Kenny knew about it.â I said as I went to look out over the glass barrier at the edge of the building. We looked out in silence for a minute or so when I heard Charlie exhale.
âY/n, what was that today?â he said running his hands through his hair.
âWhat was what today?â
âThat whole âCharlie is my brotherâ thing,â he made his voice go up in pitch to mimic my voice when he said it and I could tell it was bugging him, but I didnât know why.
âI was caught off guard...I mean weâre friends.. but I figured no one would believe that if I didnât squash the rumors right there. Sorry if it was like, emasculating, or made it seem like you donât have any game, lol.â I playfully hip bumped him to get him to laugh a little and it worked but there was still something on his mind.
âChar, is your manager upset with what I said? I can fix it tomorrow, Iâll figure something out-â I said tilting my head in front of his so he was looking at me instead of the view.
âNo, y/n, no, itâs okay..â he hesitated, âbut is that really whatâs going on?â
It felt like the wind was knocked out of me at that moment and all I could do was slide my back down the glass and sit on the roof. My head was in my hands and I didnât want to say the wrong thing next.
âHey, hey, Iâm sorry if I caught you off guard,â Charlie said squatting down to my level. âI just thought..maybe you felt something, anything, telling you this was more than a friend to friend relationship..â Now he was rubbing my back. Damn, this boy is my best friend.
âCharlie, I- I donât want to lose my job. I love working with you and with everyone,â I took a deep breath, âbut I canât say I never thought about it. I have definitely thought about it.â
âOkay, so what are you thinking in that head of yours?â
âIâm thinking that I care about you and that I have for a while but didnât want to admit it to myself until now,â looking up at Charlie I could tell he was fighting to hold back a smile.
âKenny, wonât fire you. I talked to him in LA before we went up to Vancouver because I didnât want him to be disappointed in me because of how I felt.â
âYou told him in LA?! Heâs probably been watching us and laughing at us for MONTHS. Oh my god.â
âNo, itâs cool. He just warned me to make sure I wanted to be more than friends because he didnât want to lose you.â
âWow. Okay.â The weight I didnât even know I was holding, had been lifted off my shoulders. âThe fans really do know us better than we know ourselves.â
We both laughed and Charlie finally settled down right next to me.
âLook, Iâm not saying we rush into anything. I knew I had to say something before the opportunity was gone. Now that the showâs out, youâre going to have guys banging down your door for a date.â
âI guess itâs a good thing the only guy I am looking for is you then, hmm?â
âThank god for that interviewâŚâ Charlie said under his breath.
#charlie gillespie imagine#charles gillespie#charlie gillespie#julie and the phantoms#jatp fanfic#jatp#owen joyner#owen x reader#owen joyner imagine#owen joyner x y/n#owen patrick joyner#luke patterson#Jeremy Shada#Reggie Peters
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Autistic max? Iâm all in -đŚ
yes!! Max being on the spectrum is one of my favorite headcanons! Hereâs a bit of my thoughts and hcs for you anon! <3
okay so first i wanna talk a little about where this hc came from! this idea was born in my head for a multitude of reasons, but the general summary is this:
-she misses a lot of social+emotional cues! she didnât pick up on just how annoyed Mike was with her in the gym and kept pushing until El intervened, she didnât detect any of Lucasâ panic or frustration when he was explaining the upside down to her until he touches her, and when el is jealous and just not interested in meeting her, she seems to be completely unfazed by that until she walks away. also every scene she has with Billy, heâs very shut off and she seems to be confused about what sheâs expected to say, missing that heâs angry until heâs lashing out, and idk to me it just seems like she doesnât really have a grasp on understanding othersâ emotions!
-similarly, she only seems to react in the face of immediate danger, as if sheâs a lot of the time unaware of how bad things truly are around her. like when sheâs helping to find dart without even knowing whatâs going on, driving a whole muscle car and going down into the tunnels without a hint of fear, seeming barely concerned when the mindflayer was about to drop through the ceiling. itâs almost like she has trouble fully processing the consequences of certain things, which could also explain why she sneaks out even though she probably knows what Neil is like and the fact that it could potentially put her in danger.
-the way she dresses just screams tactile sensitivity! she doesnât ever wear anything flowy, any scratchy materials, and even at the snowball, where we see Susan fussing over her, sheâs still dressed for comfort. what young girl with a mother clearly interested in making her pretty is going to get away with wearing jeans to a school dance if she doesnât have sensory issues?
-also, whenever she gets upset she seems to shut down. like she almost never talks to Billy after he yells at her unless itâs necessary, when her and Lucas are talking on top of the bus it definitely seems like sheâs struggling to voice her feelings or put words to her emotions, when Billyâs in the sauna, after heâs activated she starts turning in on herself, and after his death sheâs just sitting in his room. like maybe she doesnât really understand her own emotions that well either.
Iâm not really viewing any of this as like, solid evidence or anything btw, these are just some things Iâve noticed about her as an autistic girl her age and living in a very similar situation that I think are neat and relatable!
onto the stuff I literally made up because I love her!
-Susan gives me autism mommy vibes. Like, making it her identity that she has a child with autism, and at times that can get super frustrating for Max because she hates being her momâs little trophy daughter, gossiped about at all the potlucks so people feel sorry for her. Her absolute least favorite thing is âSheâs such a handful.â and when Susan pulls the Iâm so lonely because of taking care of you card to make her feel bad. Especially because she doesnât feel very taken care of, once sheâd hit a certain age her mother decided sheâd be alright without all that âkid stuffâ and basically tossed her into the world on her on. (hence why sheâs Billys responsibility)
-In the 80s (and still now if weâre being entirely honest) it was very normal to just throw a casual r slur into conversation and it kills Max every time her friends say it, especially Mike because she thinks heâs being mean and doesnât like her. She doesnât know how to explain to them that that hurts her feelings because she doesnât even know how to bring it up that sheâs autistic. Billy tells her once to try to cheer her up that he could beat them up for her but she cries even harder because thatâs what she doesnât want, is for them to think sheâs overreacting. He feels bad and tries to make up for it bringing it up with some of the moms of the group and asking that they tell their kids to stop using that word ever.
-In California she was in special ed classes, but Hawkins Middle deems that not necessary for someone of her âfunctioning levelâ (yuck) and she gets landed in coed instead. It mightâve been alright if that was how she started her education, but she was already used to classes of four or five kids like her, and she just cannot learn in that new environment. So she does really, really bad in school her first year in Hawkins. She feels kind of self conscious around her friends because theyâre all so smart and her grades make her feel stupid even though itâs not her fault, and thatâs why she kinda drifts towards being close with El because she struggles with learning things too.
-Smells are probably her worst overstimulation triggers. Things like cigarette smoke, fresh brewed coffee, her moms perfume, cooking and baking smells, the automatic air freshener thing, candles. Pretty much anything stronger than the smell of water is just overwhelming for her, especially if thereâs something else already working her up, because then a whiff of something too strong can put her straight into a meltdown. Billy decides to quit smoking for her (heâll never admit that, heâs adamant that it was because it was messing with his lung capacity and heâs trying to work out) and he also does things like buy Susan a new, less offensive perfume for her birthday and open windows to get stuffy air out of the house. They never really talk about what that does for her but like, thatâs part of how they start getting closer, is when he starts making little accommodations for her like that.
-In addition to smells, there are very specific sounds she canât stand. Itâs not all loud noises, some of them like the rev of Billyâs car or a bass guitar at an outdoor amphitheater are some of her favorites, but the ones she doesnât like, she really hates. Things like styrofoam, dishes hitting off of each other, something scratching against ice that builds up in the freezer, TV static, the toaster popping up or the oven beeping, and people who canât chew with their mouths closed (looking at you Billy, keep that gum in your mouth please) all make her feel gross. Sheâll try to physically shake off the way those sounds make her feel but sometimes theyâre just too much and she shuts down for a while until she gets to hear something else. In that case usually really quiet music or someone talking to her quietly can reel her back in.
-Her interests vary a lot! The longest sheâs ever held one special interest was a Miss Piggy phase! Susan liked that she was showing interest in a feminine character because of a lot of her siâs were tomboyish, but Max liked Piggy because she knew karate and punched people who laughed at her or tried to make her feel bad about herself! She has all sorts of Piggy collectibles, like toys, bed sheets, posters, books, mugs and watches! Otherwise her interests and fixations tend to come and go pretty quickly, like one week she could want to know everything there is to know about pro skaters, and the next sheâs into the history of circuses! She liked cars for a little while and Billy was really excited to indulge in that and let her get familiar with the camaro, but she shifted to video games pretty soon after and he had to let it drop.
-Another interest thatâs also pretty constant for her is nature! Not only for the sensory experience of it, listening to leaves rustle and birds chirp and water rush, but also all the knowledge about it. She can identify any type of flower, grass, tree, critter, or fungus! When sheâs melting down and needs to be away from the house, she asks Billy to take her to the state park so she can just sit and be quiet and calm down on a fallen tree or a swing set somewhere. They do have some woods behind their house but sheâs too afraid to venture out there and prefers to be out with her brother anyways.
-Stims! Sheâll fiddle with zippers and buttons and loose threads constantly to the point that they buy her three or four of the same jackets and shirts for when she inevitably breaks them. She also chews on sleeves and hoodie strings a lot. Other tactile stims she favors are string tricks and braiding and tieing knots! Braiding her and Billyâs hair is something sheâll do anytime she needs to feel grounded, and she has a whole bunch of those little wooden boards that kids use to learn how to tie their shoes to tie knots with. She also always has a pocketful of yarn, and her favorite thing to make with them is a spider web or a star!
-Sort of related to her fascination with string is that her shoelaces never ever match, she has like a whole drawer in her room full of different ones to change them out! (and she has Miss Piggy Bow Biters to put on them!)
-Sheâs also a very verbal stimmer at times! Giggles for days with Max, if sheâs excited, happy, nervous, whatever, sheâs giggling. Humming and mimicking too, like if she hears a sound she likes sheâll try to make it, whether it be part of a song or something she hears outside. But if she is sad sheâll get as quiet as a mouse.
Idk these are just like my sort of canon compliant hcs I guess? Like what I feel would be true for her in the timeline and storyline of the show!
#answered#anonymous#max mayfield#hcs under the cut because Iâm long winded lol#thank you lovely anon for giving me the opportunity to ramble about this <3#I could go on about this for eons#I actually have three fics planned out centered around Maxâs autism#it just feels nice to project onto a character I relate to on so many levels#hope you like tho anon!#also always happy to share more!#<3
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Close Friends - pt. 11
A/N: Itâs not over yet but like.... how did I do?
XX
June.Â
June finally came, it was rough in the beginning with the final few exams but enjoyable towards the end.Â
For you, all those months on focusing on the exams was a bliss becasue if you were stressed enough for pieces of papers deciding your future, you werenât thinking about the four boys you used to call friends.Â
Theyâve been great contemplating months of long nights of crying and sobbing. You saw them everywhere. You saw them in the Great Hall, classess, corridors, Hogsmeade, everywhere really and it was hard at first but there was something about them- something that changed. Whether they got closer since your last encounter with them or theyâve matured.Â
You havenât been talking to neither of them. There were some nodds and smiles whenever some of you passed, Sirius more guilty, always looking away but you managed to actually forgive him.Â
You couldnât understand how you could. Usually, you would have hold on to a grudge and never forgive him for hitting you. Some days, you could see him staring in class and it was as if he was screaming appologies at you with his eyes.Â
Knowing Sirius for years, he wouldnât do what he did if he wasnât truly hurt. He was in love with you and you knew that. He was in love with you and you basically told him you were in love with his best friends. That they were perfect for you. Not him, who had tried months to speak those words- those three words that seemed so heavy on his heart and who would genuenly love you with everything he has got. You knew Sirius. You knew how intensly he could feel his emotions, whether that was love or hurt. If he loved you, he loved you with every single atom in his body and if he hurt- he definetly hurt until he fell into the depths of darkness.Â
You knew him so well, so goddamn well that you felt his emotions through all those days. Whenever he was happy and you didnât see it, you felt happy. Whenever he was in his deepest of refrets, you cried those nights. Whenever he looked at you, you could feel the guilt he felt. It was as if the two of you were connected in such a deep level it felt impossible to think that maybe, just maybe he was right. You two-
âYou coming?!â your roomate ran across the room with her bathing suit on, smiling and tying her hair.
She interrupted your train of thoughts but you smiled anyway. Today was a nice sunny day at the lake. Everybody will be there. You put on your dress and your flip flops, grabbed the towel and glasses and shouted back. âItâs you who weâre waiting, Fran.âÂ
She popped her head out of the warderobe and smiled. âI just donât have anything to wear!â
âYouâll be in your swimsuit anyway- just throw something on and lets go!â you rushed her and she quickly put her shorts and T-shirt over.Â
âYeah, youâre right. I really donât give a damn of how I look.â she laughed, grabbed her bag and started running after you.
---
It was rare to be hot in Britian but when it was, you wanted to enjoy the heat and the sun burning your skin.Â
It was such a nice summer day. There was music coming from the stereos and students talking, laughing, some of them even playing volleyball and you? You were sun tanning. At times you pulled yourself up on your elbows and looked around, specifically on the group of boys at the other side of the lake.Â
All shirtless, including Remus who finally showed his pecks you didnât know existed. James had his body lines and muscles nicely toned, including the V-line that followed to his trunks. He and Sirius were joking around, playfully fighting and pushing each other in the water. You could hear Sirius bark-like laugh from all over there and it plastered a nostalgic smile on your lips.Â
You and him used to laugh together all the way. He wasnât that nicely rippd as the other two but his shape was nicely fit and for some reason you couldnât look away.Â
And then- then the most perfect thing happened.Â
â You and Sirius were studying for your final exams in your 5th year. He kept groaning and whining as he kept re-reading the same line for the past 5 minutes.Â
âCome on, Black. Just one more exam.â you said as you flipped the page.
âNo.â He jumped on his feet and walked to his stereo, turning on the radio and surfing through the stations for some music.Â
âIâm begging! - the song started and Sirius couldnât help himself but smile so brightly, jumping on his feet and clapping Â
âSirius no!â you laughed at his funky dance movesÂ
â Beggin', beggin' you Put your loving hand out baby â - he put his hand on his heart and started walking towards you, pulling you up.Â
âCome on, baby. Put your loving hand out dar-darling!âÂ
â Riding high, when I was king Played it hard and fast, cause I had everything!â - he continued to sing outloud and to your surprise he had a nice voice.Â
He interwined his fingers with yours and pulled you close, both dancing and laughing as the song continued.â
The two of you made so many dance moves to this song that day and when you heard the same intro, your eyes locked with his so fast until James hand pushed Sirius face back into the water.Â
You let out a giggle as he came back out, confused and his hair all over his face. He pushed James back and slicked back his wet hair, lookign back at you, smiling and singing along the lyrcs.
â Walked away, won me then But easy come and easy go And it would end-âÂ
He could see the giggles coming from all that distance, so with a leap of his heart, he jumped out of the water and started to make his way to you.Â
Running before the next few lines of the song could come, you stood up as well and just let it play out.Â
â So why anytime I bleed, you let me go Anytime I feed you get me know Anytime I see you let me know But, I plan and see just let me goI'm on my knees when I'm (beggin'g) Cause I don't want to lose (you) -â
He was now close to you, dripping from water and panting from the run and watching you with apologetic eyes. Opening his arms he continued. â I got my arms on spread And I hope that my heart gets fed, matter of fact girl I'm beggin'.âÂ
You stayed quiet for the chorus, letting him watch your reaction and letting his smile falter. He bit his lips, completely embarrased from what he did but it was after the chorus, that you grabbed his hand and started singing.
â I need you, (yeah) to understand Tried so hard To be your man The kind of man you want in the end Only then can I begin to live again.â you pressed yourself on his chest, feelign your heart flutter on his touch and smiling so wide your cheeks started to hurt.Â
Happy as a man could be, Sirius spun you around until you were back to his chest, his hand on your hip just for a few moments before he spun you away and continued to sing the next part.Â
â An empty shell I used to be Shadow of my life Was hangin' over meA broken man That I don't know Won't even stand the devils dance To win my soul âÂ
You laughed and he did as well because all this song was planned for when the two of you were 15, singing it back in his room during studying. Whenever it came on the radio, the two of you would sing out your part, no matter how awful your voices sounded.Â
â Why we chewing, why we chasing Why the bottom, why the basement Why we got good shit don't embrace it Why the feel for the need to replace me â - both of you sang together, throwing your hands and jumping just as you did 3 years ago, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close as you wrapped your arms around him as well, swinging on both of your feet.Â
The song continued to play but the two of you continued to stay in each otherâs arms, his cold and wet body against your heated one. Overjoyed as he was, he let his nose dig into the crook of your neck, smelling the shampoo he was so obsessed with but this time it was a fresh scent of watermelon.Â
He pulled away and cupped your cheeks. âWatermelon?â
You laughed at his obsession with your shampoos and nodded. âYeah. Nice fragmence.â you shrugged and grabbed your towel, turning to your friends. âIâm going to the other side for a while- thatâs alright?â you asked as Fran put up her glasses and checked Sirius from head to toe, grinning.Â
âHoney, as long as I can come with you? Might introducing me to the tall one?â all the two of you turned to the guy she was pointing.
âMoony?â Sirius smiled.
âRemus?â you looked at her and gave her a wink. âSure.â you said without feeling any kind of jealousy feeling inside of you as you thought you would.Â
Fran got up and grabbed her stuff as well, following the two of you. You let Sirius go a bit further so you could lean to Fran and whisper in her ear. âThe abs one.â you smiled and she turned, smiling cheekely as well.Â
âYeah?â
âFantastic kisser.â you said, pulling down your glasses and running to Sirius side.Â
---
There wasnât a sconf of an awkward moment between the group when you and Fran came. James had his eyes narrowed at the two of you meanwhile Remus kept smirking at the sun, just knowing he was right. Right about you and Sirius, right about how everything would turn out anyway and right in general. It brought him some sort of pleasure but if he was honest with himself, he truly wished that he wasnât right for this.Â
âTook you long enough.â James beamed, giving you a long hug and squeezing you tightly. âThought weâd have to- you know?â you could feel his arm muscles tighten as he lifted you and started carrying towards the lake.
âJames- James! James donât you fuckign dare! James!â you continued to try get out of his grip when he threw both of the two of you into the cold water.Â
You felt your whole heated, sunburnt body get washed by the coldness of the water, James arms wrapping around your stomach and pulling you out with him into the surface, laughing. âWelcome back ,Twizzlers.â
âYOU TWAT!â you splashed and kicked him underwater as he pulled you back and took a hold of your head.
âTake a deep breath baby.â he said and you could feel yourself panic a bit as he dunked your under again.Â
You swam around him and tried to do the same but he kept his arms fighting yours and he dunked you again until Sirius jumped in, screaming.
âCANON BALL!â he shouted as he splashed next to the two of you, dunking James head under water and smiling at you as he held him under. âHe gets cocky if he always wins.â he winked at you with a smile as you laughed.
âMakes two of you.âÂ
---
When the evening started to approach and only a few more people stayed, mostly Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.Â
Sirius continued to watch you from his spot. Since you sat down on the pier and dipped your into the lake, swinging them back and forth.Â
Nobody could really know what Sirius was thinking but both of the one boy had a a close idea of what he might be thinking. Remus and Fran were both gone somewhere and James was just about to leave. He couldnât yet. Not until Sirius was next to you.Â
âYou know- youâve waited for years to tell her how you feel, if you continue to do so, itâs going to turn worse than before.â he told him, standing up and grabbing his towel before leaving him.Â
When he turned around, he could see Sirius standing up and slowly making his way to you. Pleased with himself, he left the two of you alone.Â
Sirius stopped a few feet behind you. He could feel his heart throbbing inside of him but at the same time, the calm lake and the following clouds on the sky that you observed so distinctively let the throb fade.Â
You could feel him when he sat down next to you. His eyes watchign forward, his legs swinging gently from the dock. It was only a couple of moments when his eyes averted from the sky to you. He was observing- observing the burns on your nose and cheeks- the sticky tuft of your hair that was pulled up into a bun but some falling down because of the weak rubber-band.Â
You looked at him as well, your eyes in this perfect doting join.
âA day doesnât go by I donât think of what I did to you. You and the other three that day. â he started and you sighed, trying to interrupt him.
âSirius-â
âNo, just let me say this.â he said, looking away for a moment before locking his eyes with yours. âI knew it was you. I knew it was you when you called out my name and tried to pull me away. I knew- at first I thought that it was Peter because that could have been excuse that I didnât mean it but I was so hurt- so hurt when Remus told me that you and him-â he stopped, looking away and clearing his throat. âUhm...I knew it was you but I was so angry- I was SO angry at you, at the world, at this stupid destiny where you donât love me like I want you to love me. I punished you for it. I hit you because I had noone else to hit but you have to believe me, (y/n), I regretted it right after. I wouldnât do that to you- I wouldnât but I did and I think Iâll probably regret it till the day that I die.â his eyes started to tear up but you quickly took his hand and brought it to your cheek.Â
âWhen we started hanging out, I was in love with you. I was so in love with how you could make me feel at times, you know but I didnât want to be one of those girls and I wanted to prove that to you. I wanted to prove to you I could be more to you than those girls- and then you started flirting with other girls and I was relieved because then we could still be friends and not have it complicated.â you smiled and saw his eyes falling out of his head when you said you were in love with him. âJames was funny. He was and I knew since I couldnât have you, I can have him because you never liked me the way I liked you, so I just stopped liking you and you didnât mind me flirting with James so I thought that was it.â
âAnd then 5th year happened and I realized I was in love with you. I tried to bury it. I really did because you were my best friend but then a thought kept repeating itself in my head, saying that being in love with my best friend isnât really a bad idea, is it.â
âWell I didnât realize you did fancy me back until 7th year-â
âThe bracelet?â he asked and you laughed.Â
âI thought it was just a token of your love for me but months after you not dating anybody but hover around me kind of made me think.âÂ
âEvery day before I went to see you I tried to repeat what I wanted to say. Then you kissed James and I was so mad- so mad your first kiss was with James and not me. Because you canât ever forget your first kiss-â
âYou and Jill?â
âYeah-â he laughed, reminiscing back. âStill, all I could think about was what you said about soulmates and first kisses, you know? I guess if I kissed you first, youâd think I was your soulmate- or something- I donât know.â he tried to laugh it off, knowing it was probably a stupid thing to say... but it was true and he promised himself to tell you everything. âAnd then Remus- and Remus is an excellent kisser, better than James-â
âWhat?â you cut in, watching him with shock. âYou kissed-â
âEverybody kisses their friends at least once.â he shrugged. âExcept us appereantly.â he leaned and wiggled his eyebrows meanwhile you scoffed and pushed him back.Â
âIn your dreams, Black.â you laughed and he leaned back on his arms, swinging his legs.
âWorth a try.â he smiled.Â
âI promised myself I wonât get involved with you four anymore.â you said. âSince the whole Remus fiasco- we didnât... I mean, when you said if we... if we slept together. We didnât.âÂ
He turned his head to you, watching your whole face features as he simpered. âI know. Remus explained the whole deal.â he then narrowed his eyes at you and continued. âYou got Remus drunk. James and I have been trying to get him drunk for years.âÂ
âWell, you and James are clearly not a woman.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?!â he laughed.
âLetâs say you were at a party- and that you werenât an alcoholic that you were- a girl approaches you and offers you a drink. Would you take it?âÂ
âYes.â
âAnd if your friends who were always so clearly drunk and irresponsible offered you a drink, would you take it?â
âIs that an insult?â
âSirius...â
âI get your point.â he brushed his hand in defeat, looking back at the sight in front of you.Â
You followed his eyes and let the silence take over.Â
âSo what now?â he asked. âWhat are we?â
âAre you still in love with me?â you asked him as he kept quiet, putting up his hand and for the first time since he sat down, you noticed the bracelet he wore- your bracelet.Â
He twisted it around his wrist and smiled at it. âIâd like to think so, yes.â he smiled at you. âAre you in love with me?â he asked, watching your eyes so focused on the bracelet.Â
Smiling, he took it off his hand and offered to put it on you.Â
âIt was always meant to be yours.â he said and you put up your hand, feeling your heart tighten in your chest. âIf you still want it?âÂ
âI do.â you nodded, feeling your eyes water but you quickly dried them off.Â
He put the bracelet back on your wrist and later pulled out the long chain from his trunksâ pocket.Â
You couldnât believe your eyes. He kept it.
He put the chain around his neck and clasped it together, bringing the silver in to the front. âI kept it and I never told anybody where I got it.â he kept the ring in his hands before letting it hang around his neck, looking at you. âSo...â he said and you looked up at his eyes. âAre you in love with me still?âÂ
He was prepared. His whole body was prepared, tense, veins beating in sync with his heart.Â
âMaybe.â you said, smiling.
âMaybe?â he asked, smiling. âIs that a yes? A no?â
âItâs a maybe.â you continued to smile, though you knew the exact answer to his question, you just didnât want to let him know it yet.
âThan if itâs a maybe, Iâll wait.â he stood up and offered you a hand. âWhatever the real answer is-â he pulled you up until the two of you were chest to chest. â-Iâll still want you to be in my life. Friends or not. I could live with us being just friends but I could never live without you being a part of my life.â he said, pulling you into a hug and holding you, knowing what he said was the truth and knowing excatly that besides that one regret, he wouldnât have any more of them.Â
#sirius black imagine#sirius x reader#Sirius Black#james potter imagine#james potter x reader#james potter imagines#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin imagine#Remus Lupin
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Schneeplestein Apparently Has a Heart
The good doctorâs birthday is here and of course I wrote a story! Just warning, this story is quite dark. Read the trigger warnings below.
TW: Suicide attempt by gunshot (not seen, just implied), suicidal thoughts and words, extreme distress, minor violence, blood mentioned.
For the short amount of time that Jackieboy Man and Marvin the Magnificent have lived with Dr. Henrik Nicholas von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, FFS, they have learned a few important lessons, or rules:
NEVER, under any circumstances, touch the top left cupboard on the outside of the kitchen opening. Thatâs where Schneepâs coffee supply is, and if you touch it, even ONCE, Schneep will be out for your blood.
UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you mention Schneepâs wife, Lisette Schneeplestein. Apparently, the French brunette whom Schneep has been married to for the past 7 years has fucked off (Schneepâs words) back to France with her tennis instructor, Rick, short for Ricardo (Italian, apparently) and taken their two daughters with her. (Schneep has cleaned out Lisette and the girlsâ rooms, and all the belongings they have left behind, in their efforts to leave so quickly, are packed away in storage containers in the garage. Schneep has yet to mail them to Lisetteâs new address.)
DO NOT wake Schneep earlier than 10 AM in the morning if itâs his one day off. Despite having an early birdâs job, Schneep is not a morning person. Another reason why Schneep is dependent on coffee.
UNLESS it is an emergency, no one but Schneep is allowed in his office. As there are so many things to keep track of, and so many papers that could easily be misplaced, it is best not to touch, or even go inside the office, lest you want to throw the doctor off his game or have the doctor throw you off a cliff.
Despite these four unspoken yet very specific rules, Marvin and Jackie have learned one more this past month: despite the doctorâs arrogant, haughty, snappy, disgusting, even FERAL demeanour, he truly is a good person.
It just took a new ego to show them that.
March 30th, 2017. Schneepâs mail has been unceremoniously thrown onto the dining room table. Schneepâs hands, long and graceful, slide through the envelopes and fliers, organizing them into piles, from taxes and business inquiries to subscriptions and sales.
Jackie lazily eats his cereal, watching Schneep sort through the mail like a madman. Geez, just how popular is this guy?! Itâs almost as wild as Jackâs mail. At least thereâs more interesting stuff for Jack... drawings, letters of encouragement and thanks, even the rare crocheted or sculpted gift.
Schneep freezes when he comes across a particular letter, one with a cutesy pin cupcake logo. His eyes grow solemn as he picks it up and shakily opens it. Jackie cocks his head.
âSomething wrong, doctor?â he asks lightly.
Schneep looks up. âHm? Oh!â He sighs. âItâs from a baking class Sophia and I used to take together. Lisette had insisted I learn how to cook as well, so it wouldnât always be her making the meals, and she figured it would be good bonding for me and Sophia. Soph loved those classes. Weâd learn all sorts of fascinating recipes and bring the results home. They were fun, and very sweet.â
Jackie nods seriously. He knows he should leave it there, but somethingâs confusing him. âItâs been quite a few months since you stopped going. Why are they sending you stuff now?â
Schneep unfolds the letter. As he reads it, his eyes widen and a smile begins curling at his lips.
Somehow, that only makes more questions. âWhatâŚ?â
âItâs not the company themself, itâs Chase! He was a friend from the classes! I havenât spoken to him in forever! Heâs such a lovely person, itâd be nice to see him again!â Schneep grabs his phone and hastily types in the number at the bottom of the letter. He squeals and runs off, like a teenager who just got a text from their crush.
The letter lies on the table, open for all to read. Jackie knows better than to pry into other peopleâs lives, but this letter is wide open, and itâs not like Schneep needs to know, so the superhero leans over and reads.
Hey Henrik,
This is probably weird to get, but I lost your phone number and I donât know what your address is, so I asked the dudes at the baking class if I could send a letter to you via their services.
Itâs been a while since weâve seen each other, and I thought Iâd better check in and see how youâre doing, see how bachelor life is treating you. Stacy and the kids miss seeing you as well. I wanna talk to you again.
My cell is #1273-545-8903.
Hope to see you soon!
Chase Brody
Chase Brody. That sounds like an American to Jackieâs ears. He does seem like a good person, if Schneepâs reaction wasnât enough. He must have been a friend for Schneep when the doctor went through his divorce.
The name itself sounds familiar, like a local celebrity or something. Jackie makes a mental note to look it up later. He leans back and finishes his cereal just as Schneep comes back, holding his phone out. Marvin finally emerges, his green hair resembling a ratâs nest, and no mask. Jackie takes pride in the fact that Marvin now feels comfortable enough to show his face in front of Schneep and Jackie.
âWell, change of plans, I wonât be able to come home in time for dinner with you guys,â Schneep announces. Jackie nods.
âWait what? Why?â Marvin slurs, slumping down at the dining room table.
âIâm going to see Chase after my shift today. We agreed to meet in the park,â Schneep explains curtly, and leaves.
âDid I miss something?â Marvin asks, turning to Jackie. Jackie nods down to the letter. Marvin leans over to read, only for the letter to be snatched up by the doctor.
âWho said you could go through my stuff?!â Schneep snapped. He stormed off, letter clutched firmly in his hand. Marvin sneers at Jackie, who only shrugs and winks. The magician rolls his eyes, but he understands. A shrug and a wink means Iâll tell you later.
Schneep throws on his brown coat and grabs his bag. âHave a nice day, boys. If I donât see you later tonight, sweet dreams and Iâll see you in the morning.â He flies out, coat flapping behind him.
âHeâs gotta show me how he rocks an overcoat so well. Iâm jealous of the way he holds himself. So professional,â Marvin remarks. He quickly turns to Jackie. âSpill the tea.â
âSchneepâs meeting an old friend from a baking class he used to take with his daughter,â Jackie says. âHis name is Chase Brody. The name sounds so familiar to me, and I donât know why.â
âLook it up on your phone,â Marvin suggests. Jackie does just that.
Immediately, Wikipedia comes to the egosâ rescue. Chase Brody, (born April 11th, 1988)Â is an American-Irish Youtuber who is best known for his Youtube channel, Bro Average. As of February 2017, his channel has over 20 million views and over 10 million subscribers.
âOh yeah, the trickshot vlogger!â Jackie says. âI like watching his stuff, heâs a funny dude.â
Marvin nods. âHe must have kids as well. He wouldnât be taking classes if he didnât.â
Jackie scrolls down to Personal Life. ââChase is married to Stacy Matthews, and they have three children as of 2017, two biological twins, and one recently adopted daughter.ââ The selfie provided shows a man with fair skin and bright blue eyes standing next to a red-headed lady doing a duckface.
âHm. Sounds like heâs living the good life,â Marvin says. âA well-paid job, a nice family, a happy life.â
Boy, is he wrong.
At 5 PM exactly, Schneep sits at the bench by the great oak tree, waiting for Chase. He wraps his blue and navy scarf tighter around his neck as a cool breeze whisks by. Despite what the weather people promised, Athlone is nowhere near warm, despite it being spring. He examines the park-goers who walk by, picking up on every accident that could occur.
Parents swinging their child up and down: a broken arm, arms could pull out of their sockets, or the child could fall on their head and get a concussion. Or worse, permanent brain injuries.
Kids climbing trees: Another chance to fall and hit their tiny heads and sustain brain damage, if not that, broken limbs and splinters.
Teenagers skateboarding: more broken bones and limbs, but at least SOME are smart enough to put pads and helmets on. Others have no chance of recovering fully from brain damage or concussions should they fall on their heads-
âHenrik!â Henrik snaps to life and looks around. A man wearing a puffy black jacket, torn jeans and a snapback with a pink skull on it runs over to him. Schneep stands up.
âChase Brody! Wie geht es dir mein freund?â Schneep cries out in delight, holding his arms out. Chase happily throws himself into them.
âIâm doing as well as I can, at least. Itâs so good to see your face,â Chase sighs. He nuzzles Henrikâs hair, taking in the sanitizer and mint smell heâs gotten used to. âIâve missed you.â
âThe feeling is mutual,â Schneep says. âCome, sit down next to me! Tell me how things have been. How are Stacy and your kids? Has Chloe adjusted to the new timezone yet?â Chloe is Chaseâs recently adopted daughter from China. Schneepâs last visit with the Brodyâs involved meeting her.
Chaseâs smile fades and he sits down next to Schneep. âUmâŚâ
Schneepâs stomach sinks. âThatâs never good. What happened? Who died?!â
âCalm down, Henrik!â Chase exclaims. âNo one died! Everyoneâs fine. Chloeâs adjusted quite nicely.â
âThen why do you look so sad?!â Schneep cries.
Chase fidgets with his jacket zipper, mumbling incomprehensibly. Henrik leans closer. âDidnât catch that.â
âStacyandIaregettingadivorce,â Chase whispers. Schneepâs stomach flips and sinks.
âWhat?â
âStacy and I are getting divorced,â Chase repeats, louder now. âShe said she still loves me, but not quite in a⌠romantic way, I guess. She wants us to just be friends.â
âWell, at least she still wants to be on friendly terms, I guess!â Schneep says. âStill, I canât believe it⌠you two were such a sweet couple⌠so in loveâŚâ
âThereâs another reason why she wants a divorce,â Chase admits. Schneepâs eyes turn wide as saucers.
âSheâs seeing someone. An old friend from high school. Iâve seen her texts,â Chase says. He scrunches up the end of his shirt, nose wrinkling. Schneep hears him sniff.
âI donât know how long itâs gone on⌠and I know she didnât mean to⌠but stillâŚâ Chase finally looks up, eyes tearing. âHow could she do that? I would have been okay with it! Maybe. I donât know!â Chase buries his face in his hands.
Schneep pats Chaseâs shoulder gently. He canât believe Stacy cheated! She and Chase were such a romantic couple! They seemed so happy! Why would Stacy throw that all away for some whore? âWhat a bitchâŚâ
Chase suddenly whacks Schneepâs hand off, eyes fierce. âDonât call her that! Itâs not like that! At least she still wants me in her life! Sheâs not like Lisette!â An awkward silence fills the air.
Chase gasps. âHenrik, Iâm so sorry, I didnât mean it that way-â
âOh!â Schneep cries. âItâs fine! Itâs no big deal!â Yeah, that was a low blow, but he would rather Chase doesnât end up like him: cranky, alienating, friendless, alone. He needs a friend more than ever.
âNo itâs not, I just sunk really low! You must be furious-â
âIâm not, I promise!â Heâs not, surprisingly. Is this growth?! What the fuck?!
âI need to control myself better. Iâm a grownup, for fuckâs sake, I should know betterâŚâ Chase moans, burrowing his head in his hands again.
âChase!â Schneep exclaims. âYou mustnât beat yourself up like that! Youâre one of my very best friends, which isnât saying much because I donât have any, but still! You have to be one of the nicest people I know! Youâre anything but a dick!â
âI feel like youâre just saying that to make me feel better,â Chase mumbles, rubbing his eyes.
âIâm not, I swear !â Schneep says.
âIâm sorry, Henrik, I really am,â Chase says.
âI forgive you,â Schneep says, and means it. âIâm serious.â
âI should go,â Chase decides, standing. Schneep gets up as well.
âWhat? No! Iâm not mad!â he protests.
âItâs my turn to pick the kids up,â Chase snaps. âIâll see you around, Henrik. Sorry I canât stay long.â He briskly runs off.
Schneeplestein yells and kicks the bench. âFUCK! FUCK! AAAHHH!!!â
Other park visitors turn in confusion, watching the strange man kick the bench and scream.
Schneep freezes when he notices everyone staring at him. He storms back to his car, slams the door shut and continues his screaming.
Once Schneep has finished âreleasing his angerâ (Jackieâs words, not his) he âreflects on the situationâ (also Jackieâs words). What could he do to make Chase feel better?
He stays in the car for an hour, letting the world pass by as he thinks. By the time the sun has set, he has an idea.
Jackie and Marvin glare at each other from across the hall. Sirius the cat has hidden, choosing not to get involved. The little pegs in the cribbage board are neck-in-neck, both pegs exactly 4 steps away from the end hole. The egos stare at their cards.
âFour,â Jackie announces, putting the card down.
âFourteen,â Marvin says.
The door flies open and Schneep rushes in, hair windswept and out of breath. âWhereâs Jack?!â he demands.
âOut in his universe,â Jackie responds. âFifteen for two!â He puts down an ace.
âSixteen for two!â Marvin slams the ace down, looking triumphant. Jackie flips him off.
âWhen will he visit?!â Schneep questions.
âWhen he wishes,â Jackie responds. âTwenty-five!â
âHow can I contact him?!â
âWhy are you so interested?!â Marvin asks. âThirty-one, bitch!â He flips Jackie off.
âI have a request for him!â Schneep responds curtly.Â
âWhat kind?â Jackie asks.
âItâs for a friend,â Schneep brushes him off, heading to his lab.
âChase Brody?â Marvin guesses. Jackie kicks him.
Schneep turns around. âWhat did you say?â
Marvin gulps. âYou left your letter on the table for me to read. I was fast enough to catch the gist before you snatched it up. So how is Chase Brody?â
Schneep growls softly and walks back to the table. Marvin sits up with his head held high, bracing himself for the punishment. No matter what Schneep does, slugging, kicking, ruining his hair, the magician can take it. Heâs been through worse.
To Marvin and Jackieâs surprise, Schneep pulls up a chair and sits down. The doctor takes a deep breath. âChase Brody is divorcing his wife. Thatâs all Iâm going to say.â
Jackie and Marvin nod in understanding. âThatâs sad to hear,â Jackie remarks, solemnly.
âBut howâs talking to Jack going to help?â Marvin queries.
âI want him to make a video for Chase,â Schneep says. âIf this so-called community exists, I want to see them show their love for Chase! Itâs the least he deserves!â
Marvin and Jackie catch each otherâs gaze. Schneep glares at Jackie expectantly.
âWell? Youâve lived with Jack the longest. How do you contact him?!â Schneep demands.
âI have his number in case of emergencies, but Iâve never had a reason to call him! I donât even know if heâs available,â Jackie explains.
âHe has to be. What else does a man who plays video games for a living do?!â Schneep snaps, incredulous. âItâs not like he has to be places or anything!â He looms over Jackie, a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. Jackie nearly topples out of his chair.
âI guess I could give it a shot,â the superhero mumbles.
Schneep squeals in delight and wraps his arms tightly around Jackie in what Jackie assumes to be a hug. The superhero pats the doctorâs arms, taken aback by his strength.
After a few sickeningly sweet seconds, Marvin pipes up, âUh, doc? I think Jackie needs to be able to breathe in order to call Jack.â
Sheepishly, Schneeplestein lets Jackie go. The superhero gulps in big gasps of air, before grabbing his phone and dialing Jackâs number.
A day later, Jack McLoughlin sits at the egosâ dining room table, chomping away on mashed potatoes and a juicy steak.
âMy goodness, you never told me what a good chef you were, Schneep!â he sighs in ecstasy.
Schneep bows his head, face glowing red. Jackie raises an eyebrow. Schneep almost NEVER blushes when given a compliment. Itâs strange to see the doctor act so shy and humble around someone, especially Jack. It feels like only yesterday Schneep was bombarding Jack with questions about where he came from and how the alternate universe worked. Since that day, Jack has quickly risen to become one of Schneepâs favourite people on the planet. Not that Jackie is jealous or anythingâŚ
âJust a little recipe I learned for my wifeâŚâ Schneep mutters, playing with the end of his lab coat. Across the table, Marvin snickers lightly, watching the doctor fumble for words. Finally, some entertainment!
âSo, what was the call for?â Jack asks. âJust wanted to say hi?â His expression darkens. âIs it Anti? What did he do?!â
âItâs not Anti. We havenât heard from him for a while!â Jackie says. Jack sighs in relief.
âI mean, I know I made that video for PAX and all but I just wanted to make sure,â Jack says.
âYou made an Anti video for PAX?!â Marvin cries. âWhy?â
âBecause the fans would enjoy it! Also because I was running out of ideas for what to do for an opening,â Jack admits. âIt just seemed like the right amount of fun and originality without being too over the top!â
âWhen is Anti not over the top?â Jackie scoffs. That earns a laugh from the others.
âActually, itâs Schneep who has a question for you,â Marvin says.
Jack turns to Schneeplestein. Schneepâs smile disappears. He looks around the table, watching everyoneâs gaze. He grins nervously at Jack.
âCould I ask you in private? This stuff⌠it is⌠personal.â
âSure. Letâs go,â Jack says, standing up. Schneep follows after him.
In the upstairs hallway, Schneep spills everything. He explains who Chase is, whatâs going on in his life, and how he believes making Chase an ego could help his situation.
âMake another ego? Oh god, Iâm having enough trouble managing you all right now,â Jack admits.
âAll you have to do is make one video. The fans can do the rest,â Schneep presses.
âHow?â
âBy showing their love for Chase! Heâs a funny and sweet guy! Your fans would love him!â
âHow will the communityâs love help a man struggling with a divorce?â Jack questions.
âTheir love will lift his spirits and he will feel more confident and happy! You said you noticed a difference in us after the community made content of us! If that is really true, then I want to see them show their love for Chase. Itâs the least he deserves!â
Jack is silent, contemplating the pros and cons. Finally, he sighs and says, âCan you show me what he usually does?â
Schneep types something into his phone. He logs onto Youtube and types a channel name into the search bar. Bro Average.
âBro Average? Is that a parody of Dude Perfect?â Jack asks, chuckling.
âWell, itâs because thereâs only one person performing every stunt, and because itâs less... professional than the other channel,â Schneep explains. âFor example-â
The video shows Chase at a park, holding a Nerf gun and wearing a goofy grin. âSup, guys! Iâm Chase, and welcome to Bro Average!â He shoots a nerf dart off-screen, only for it to crash into something, invoking a cat screech. Chase pretends to be startled.
It flashes forward to Chase in a tree. âThis oneâs called, âMultitaskingâ!â He hangs off a branch while trying to knock over six cups stacked up on each other with darts. Jack canât stop snickering at Chaseâs antics, as he wobbles and threatens to lose his balance. Chase yelps and squeals, and a few times, swearing can be heard, though itâs censored by loud beeps. Finally, Chase hits his target, just as the branch snaps. Chase whoops with glee as he crashes onto the ground, the branch smacking into his head. His cameraman runs over to him, worried, but Chase is rolling on the ground in laughter as tears run down his face.
âHe is not nearly as good as the professionals, but his humour and authenticness bring in the fans,â Schneep says, smiling.
âHe sounds like a blast!â Jack takes the phone and begins to skim through Chaseâs videos. âI bet I could make something work! Iâll borrow an office space, bring a couple friends and film a few shots! Canât be that hard!â
âSo you will do it?!â Schneep cries.
âAbsolutely! Give me a couple days and it will be ready!â
Schneep cheers and engulfs Jack in a bear hug. Jack laughs and pats his friendâs back. Itâs nice to see the doctor open up at last to his new roommates and creator, and so quickly, as well. Jack decides Schneep can be rewarded for his good nature by granting his wish and helping out a new friend.
A few weeks pass. Schneeplestein schedules more visits with Chase. The two fathers laugh and chat, learning more about each other and discussing whatever they please without the worry of kids hearing. Schneep feels his spirits lift whenever he sees Chaseâs snapback and hears his cheerful voice.
In the night, a familiar sensation returns to the egosâ dreams. Sounds of a Nerf gun, kids laughing and on the rare occasion, a man crying fills the egosâ heads as they sleep. Schneep feels his heart break when he hears Chaseâs cries. He hopes this video will help Chase. It has to.
April 11th, 2017. The egos are gathered around the dining room table, Jackâs Youtube account open on his laptop.Â
Jack idly sits at the centre, waiting for Schneep to arrive with Chase. Marvin and Jackie play another round of cribbage, and this time Jackie seems to be way ahead on the board, much to the magicianâs dismay.
âIâm going to be skunked! I hate this game so fucking much!â Marvin gripes, as he receives two points for his math efforts.
Jackie snickers as he counts his cards. âThis takes both luck and skill. Youâre a fast learner, Marv. Iâm sure youâll pull through soon.â
âNot soon enough,â grumbles Marvin as Jackie moves his peg 16 points.
The door opens and Schneep walks in with Chase Brody right behind him. Compared to the laughing man with the warm aura in Google Images, this Chase looks cold and kind of grumpy.
âChase, this is Jack McLoughlin, our âcreatorâ and a wonderful man,â Schneep introduces. Jack awkwardly holds his hand out for a shake. Even though heâs seen versions of himself several times this past year, itâs still rather unnerving to be given death stares by himself but with yellow hair, snapback and a fair share of freckles.
âJack, this is Chase Brody, your newest ego and the face of Bro Average!â Schneep continues. Chase raises an eyebrow.
âEgo? Like alter ego?â Chase turns to the others, and realizes that they share the same hair and face. âOh... my... dog. Am I a fictional character?! Is this a character intervention with the narrator?! Whatever happened, I promise, I didnât do it! Sally encouraged me to eat the worm!â Chase kneels before Jack, cowering and whimpering.
Jack chuckles nervously. âRelax, Chase! Technically, you are a fictional character-â Chase shrieks in alarm.
âBut only in another universe. Youâre very much a real person in this one,â Schneep concludes, helping Chase up by the arm. Chase shakes the doctor off and Schneep tries his best to hide his hurt.
âTo put it simply, some of the videos on my channel donât exist in this universe. This is because theyâre about you⌠egos,â Jack recites. âYouâre the most recent ego, however, your video and beginnings are a bit different because I already had some course material to go off of.â
Jack clicks play on the video. Chase sits down and gasps as Jack-as-Chase flies around the office, performing trickshots and screaming like a toddler who drank too much apple juice. Is⌠is this him?! The accuracy! Holy shit! They even got his bloopers right! Creepy!!! Is he being stalked?!
Schneep watches from afar, fidgeting with his lab coat. Chase hasnât moved once since the video started. He doesnât look angry⌠but at the same time, he doesnât seem to be enjoying his Power Hour. Truth be told, itâs not like the Doctor particularly likes his Power Hour either. Jack didnât have to go and mention his cheating wife⌠or the fact that Peter did die at one point⌠Nonetheless, Chase is just sitting there, with wide eyes.
Jack, on the other hand, is already regretting what he did. Perhaps he emphasized too much on the âNot-As-Professional-Or-Successfulâ part. Maybe he made Chase too goofy or not as three-dimensional as he could have. The Youtuber catches a glimpse of the screen. Oh no. Itâs the part with-
âStacy, please, I know, Iâm trying to get all the shots, look, just please donât take the kids!â Jack-as-Chase pleads. Schneep and Jack-in-the-flesh turn white as a ghost. Chase frowns.
âThis oneâs called, âIâm Staying At My Sisterâs This Weekendâ!â Jack-as-Chase announces. It flashes back to him on the phone. âWell, I donât care what your sister says! Just please! At least let me see them on the weekend still!â
Jack scratched his neck nervously and teethed on his knuckles, face beet red. Chase looks horrified. Schneep looks just as worried. Marvin and Jackie awkwardly stand up to leave.
Chase pauses the video just as Jack-as-Chase sobs. He takes a deep breath and turns to face his âcreatorâ. âSo⌠are you the reason my wife and I are getting a divorce?â
Jack gapes, taken aback by Chaseâs accusation. He doesnât want to throw Schneep under the bus, but at the same time, Chase wasnât exactly âcreatedâ like the others-
âNot exactly!â Schneep interferes. âIt⌠it was my idea. I thought if I got Jack to make a tribute video in honour of you, it would help you!â
âHelp me?!â Chase laughs, a harsh and cold sound compared to his whoops and chuckles in his videos. âHow?! By running my wifeâs name through the dirt?!â Jack flinches.
âFair enough,â Schneep says with a groan. âI should have been more specific when I said divorce and kids.â
âYou told-?!â
âI thought if you knew you had a big name on your side youâd feel better! It was supposed to be a little treat!â Schneep counters.
âOh, what am I, a little pity party to you?â Chase snaps. âMy divorce was private information, Schneep. Why else did you think I wanted to talk to you alone?! Now the whole world knows and Stacyâs going to be treated horribly because of you shits-â
âNot the whole world!â Schneep exclaims. âJust⌠all⌠of Jackâs world.â
âShut up,â Chase hisses. âI donât care that thereâs more than one universe. So be it. What I care about is the fact that you betrayed my trust and now people are going to treat Stacy like she was a freaking bitch. This may come as a surprise to both you and Jack, but not all women are cheating whores like Lisette, asshole!â
SMACK. Chase cries out. The egos and Jack huddle together. Schneepâs breathing slows as he registers the sting in his hand and Chase rubbing his red cheek.
Schneep takes a deep breath, and in chilling, low, icy words, he snarls, âDonât ever say her name again.â
Chase recovers from the slap and storms over to the door. âWhatever. You know what?! Stay away from me and whateverâs left of my family. I donât care if Iâm a part of your âcreatorâsâ story or whatever, I JUST WANT YOU OUT OF MY LIFE.â Chase grabs his coat and slams the door shut with a loud BANG. Schneep remains at the dining room, breathing unsteadily, vision somewhat blurry.
âDoctor? Are you alright?â Jackie whispers, reaching a hand out.
âDONâT TOUCH ME!â Schneep runs upstairs to his room and slams the door. Muffled sobs soon echo down the hallway.
Jackâs heart breaks in two. He really thought this video was a good idea. Somehow, all it brought was pain. He sighs defeatedly and slumps down at the table. Marvin closes the laptop.
âShit⌠that was awfulâŚâ
âAnd it was supposed to be Chaseâs birthday present!â Jack moans. âAhhhhh, I feel like an asshole⌠I shouldnât have been so meanâŚâ
âItâs not your faultâŚâ Jackie soothes. âYou made an assumption and played it with satire. Schneep shares some of the blame as well. He should have kept that part quiet.â
âAnd I should have kept that out of the videoâŚâ Jack sighs. âNow Chase feels even worse about the divorce and he wants nothing to do with usâŚâ
Jackie and Marvin sit down beside Jack and rub his back. Jack sighs again and rests his head on the table.
Upstairs, Schneep screams into his pillow, tears finally flowing. He hates himself and Chase and everything thatâs happened. Thatâs what he gets for helping a friend. Ungrateful bastard-
No. Schneep should have known better! That was private information, he had no right poking his nose in and telling everyone. Well, it was just one person, but still! Now Chase never wants to speak to him again and heâs lost the only friend heâs had in a while and everything sucks and he just wants to curl up and die. Schneep pulls his hair and screams again. He canât sleep, but at the same time, he canât do anything else. So he remains in bed, crying and thinking. Eventually, long into the night, he falls asleep, cheeks wet and eyes sore.
Schneep wakes up feeling like absolute shit. His cheeks are somewhat sticky and damp. He must have been crying in his sleep. His stomach feels awful. But itâs a work day, so he gets out of bed.
Schneep stumbles into his ensuite bathroom and splashes cold water on his face. He shudders when he sees his reflection. Grey skin, messy hair, red eyes. He doesnât smell so good either. Sighing sadly, Schneep throws off his clothes and turns on the shower faucet.
When he hops out of the shower, he puts on his scrubs and grabs his spare labcoat. He trudges downstairs, where Marvin is waiting with fluffy chocolate-chip pancakes on the table.
âMorning, doc,â Marvin greets cheerfully. His smile fades when he sees Schneepâs ashen face. ���Everything alright?â
âIâm fine,â Schneep replies hoarsely.
âI made you some coffee,â Marvin continues. âI know you like it.â
Schneep grunts softly and pours himself a large cup. As he drinks he heads to the hook of keys by the front door, only to find-
âWhere are my keys?â Schneep asks, staring at the space where his car keys used to hang.
âI saw Sirius knock them off earlier,â Marvin replies, flipping through the nearest magazine. âI tried to catch her, but sheâs so fast.â
âWhere is she right now?â Schneep inquires, trying to sound as calm as possible.
âBeats me. I canât control her,â Marvin says calmly.
Schneep growls and pounds on the table. Marvin jumps slightly, but quickly recovers and goes back to his reading.
âThis isnât funny, Marvin. I need to get to work!â Schneep snaps. âIâm already falling behind schedule.â
Marvin snorts, looking up from the magazine. âYou think youâre fit to go to work? Your face is bright pink, youâve got large shadows under your eyes and I heard you crying for who knows how many hours last night.â
âI have allergies! They were just acting up!â Schneep snaps.
âOh, really? Allergies? Thatâs rich coming from the man who claims to have âthe strongest immune system in the worldâ!â Marvin scoffs.
âEven the strongest immune systems have off days, okay?!â
âThat doesnât even make any sense! Henrik, are you even hearing yourself?!â
Schneep fights back more tears. âMarvin, please, tell me where the keys are! I canât be late for work!â
âAnd you wonât be! I called the hospital and asked them to give you a day off!â Marvin says.
Schneep almost drops his mug. âYou⌠you did what?!â
âI told them it was a family emergency,â Marvin admits. âAnd that we didnât know how long it would be. They understood, told me to tell you to take as many days off as you need.â
âWhich is none,â Schneep scowls. âIâm fine.â
âNo youâre not.â
âYes, I am!â
âHenrik, you said you didnât want Chase to go through his divorce alone and friendless, like you. Youâre going through a tough time right now. The last thing you need is to be alone.â
Schneep gapes at the magician, tears threatening to fall. Marvin stares back, heart thumping loudly. He prays he didnât say the wrong thing. He hopes this works.
Maybe itâs because he didn't get enough sleep, or maybe itâs because heâs never had anyone be so concerned for his well-being that they screwed up his schedule, but Henrik finally lets his anguish go, and collapses, bawling like a little baby. Marvin gets down from his seat and wraps his arms around the doctor, soothing him and singing softly.
Jackie finally emerges from the bathroom, and joins the cuddle pile in the kitchen. As Henrik finally slumps completely into Marvinâs arms, he and the superhero high-five and move the sleeping doctor into the living room for a day of Netflix and cuddles.
Five days pass. Henrik sits at his desk, tapping his pen. In front of him is the start of a letter, with only the words âDear Chase,â written on it. He needs to apologize to Chase, but just doing it by text seems insensitive. So written letter it is! Now⌠where to startâŚ
Dear Chase,
Iâm sorry. What I did was wrong and thereâs no way to excuse my behaviour. I really believed I was doing the right thing by telling Jack, but I should have known better than to air dirty laundry.
The doctor shakes his head and crumples up the page. He can do better than that. Now to start over-
His phone begins playing the familiar sound of a monitor beeping. He really needs to change his ringtone. Itâs too painful to hear after all the dead patients that came with it.
Henrik freezes when he notices the name. Chase. Why is he calling? Heart thumping and hands shaking, Henrik picks up the phone.
âHello? Chase?â
âH-hi, d-docâŚâ Chase answers in a raspy whisper. The sound of sniffling is not lost on Henrik.
âChase? Are you okay?â
âNot reallyâŚâ Another sniffle. âBut I will be⌠soon.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âIâm sorry for all the shit I said⌠It was wrong of me to bring up your own divorce⌠I-I shouldnât have been so harshâŚâ
âNo, Chase, Iâm sorry! I shouldnât have brought up your divorce in the first place! I thought I was doing good by telling Jack, but he clearly misinterpreted it. I shouldnât have mentioned itâŚâ
âItâs alright⌠you were just trying to make me feel bet-better⌠I just overreacted⌠I overreact to eve-everything⌠Iâm such a bay-baby.â Chase sounds like heâs holding back tears.
âNo youâre not. You had every right to be mad⌠Iâm sorry for slapping you. Howâs your cheek?â
Schneep hears Chase chuckle softly. âItâs fine⌠It doesnât hurt as much as other injuriesâŚâ The laugh turns into a sob.
âOther injuries?! What do you mean?!â Henrik demands. âChase, youâre worrying me!â
âIâm sorry⌠I canât seem to do anything right⌠All I do is upset peopleâŚâ Chase is outright crying now.
âChase, please tell me where you are,â Henrik pleads, getting up. âI need to make sure youâre okay!â
âNo⌠I donât think youâll want to see thisâŚâ Chase mumbles. He takes a deep but shuddery breath. âI have to go. Goodbye, Henrik.â
âChase?! CHASE?!â Henrik screams. The phone line goes dead. Henrik yelps and quickly rushes into his contacts. He finds Stacyâs name and calls her.
She answers on the first ring. âHenrik? Itâs been so long! How are you?â
âWhere is Chase right now?â
âWhat?â
âWhere is he living?â
âWhatâs going on? What did he say to you? Is he okay?â
âCall 999. I donât believe so.â
Henrik hangs up and dashes out of his office, up the stairs and to the front door, where he grabs his keys and coat. Marvin and Jackie sit at the kitchen island, both on their phones.
âHenrik? Whatâs going on?â
âI have to go to the hospital. Iâll be back,â Henrik answers curtly. He throws on his coat and leaves.
Henrik runs into the hospital and quickly signs himself in. A nurse comes by and squeaks in surprise when she sees him.
âDr. Schneeplestein? What are you doing here? Isnât today your day off?â
âTime is broken, Cass,â Dr. Schneeplestein replies. He dashes off to the emergency room. Cass quickens her pace, trying her best to catch up to him.
âHave there been any emergencies yet?â Schneep demands.
âI think an ambulance is arriving soon-â Cass begins.
âWhoâs the patient?â Schneep asks.
âA man attempted suicide-â Cass starts.
âIâll treat him,â Schneep announces.
The doors open and medics rush in, driving a man on a gurney. Schneep pales when he sees red. The good doctor swallows his fear and tears. Now is not the time to be a baby. Heâs not called the good doctor for nothing. Time to save Chaseâs life.
Hours later, five nurses come in to find Dr. Schneeplestein exhaustedly sobbing against the wall, shoulders convulsing as he cries into his hands. On the gurney lies a man with yellow hair poking out of a large bandage wrapped around his head. The monitor beeps rhythmically, and the manâs chest rises and falls slowly. So why is the doctor crying?
Three nurses wheel Chase out while the other two bend down next to Schneep. One nurse, Kate, tentatively places a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in shock.
âSchneeplestein? Are you alright?â Kate asks.
Schneep smiles shakily. âHeâll liveâŚâ He shivers and whimpers. âOh god⌠so much could have happened⌠So much could have gone wrong⌠I thought I lost him a few times...â the doctor breaks off with another sob.
âWhy donât you head home? Today is your day off,â Kate suggests.
âIn a little while⌠I need to speak to the patient firstâŚâ Schneep replies in a raspy voice. Kate nods. She and the other nurse, Matt, help the doctor up. His legs wobble and almost give out. Schneep takes a deep breath and slowly makes his way out of the operating room and into his office.
An hour later, Henrik reappears, wearing his comfy labcoat and drinking some tea, a rarity considering how much the doctor prefers coffee. But he needs to relax, and so Matt whipped up a nice cup of tea.
Henrik pulls up a chair and sets his cup down. He looks down at the sleeping man, face as white as the bandage wrapped around his head. Chase has never looked more fragile and vulnerable. His cheeks are sunken and there are large bags under his eyes.
Henrik rubs his face. Truthfully, heâs just as tired. He looks up at the clock. 1:11 am. God, he was in the operating room for quite a while. He doesnât think heâll ever be as stressed as he was today. He leans back and closes his eyes. Maybe he can get a quick nap before-
âDr. Schneeplestein?â He opens his eyes and looks up. His stomach flips when he notices a woman with red hair that falls in waves down her shoulders. Her soft brown eyes are full of compassion and worry. Stacy Brody. Or Stacy Matthews, to be more precise.
âStacyâŚâ Henrik mumbles. âWhat⌠I mean, Iâm sorry. I understand this must be a lot for you.â
âI canât believe it⌠I mean, I knew about his depression, I just didnât think it would get this bad,â Stacy says, voice soft and sad.
Henrik nods. âYes. One canât help but wonder what the breaking point was.â
âItâs because of me, isnât it?â Stacy whispers hoarsely, staring down at her ex-husbandâs skinny frame. âI did cheat on him. I told him I wanted a divorce after he found out⌠I wonder what would have happened if I told him straight up about Delilah⌠I wonder how he would have reactedâŚâ
Henrik is speechless. He canât really say it isnât her fault, but at the same time, it wasnât as if she could straight up tell him. There really was no way of telling how he would have reacted. Henrik groans and rubs his eyes again. He canât think straight.
His mind flickers back to the video, and his stomach sinks. Did that video⌠influence his decision? Should he tell her about it? Would she be mad? He takes a deep breath.
âI mentioned your divorce to another friend,â he finally says. âSaid friend made a video that I think mocked Chase more than flattered him. I thought it would help⌠but it didnât. Only made him even more upset.â
âA video? Was this the video that âJackâ made?â Stacy asks. Henrik opens his eyes, horrified. How long has she known?! Oh god, she must despise him! Henrik whirls around to face her, face riddled with guilt.
âIâm so sorry. I didnât think heâd take it in that direction- It was a shitty idea, I was so invasive and it was absolutely despicable of me and-â
âHey, calm down, itâs okay! It was an honest mistake!â Stacy responds calmly. âChase told me about it. He felt awful and he was so pissed with you guys. I will admit I was a bit peeved at first, but Chase said he yelled at you and broke off his friendship with you, so I figured it was punishment enough.â
âHe also brought up my wife,â Henrik says. âSo I punched him.â
Stacy nods. âAh, thatâs where the bruise came from.â
Henrik cringes. Damn, did he actually hit Chase that hard? He really is a dick. He sighs and stands up. âYou are more than welcome to punch me. I deserve it. I never should have brought up the divorce. It was hateful of me, really.â
Stacy shakes her head. âOh no, I couldnât! You saved Chase from the brink of death. Itâd be so insensitive of me!â
âI insist.â Henrik holds his head up. Stacy reluctantly stands up, and raises an open palm.
âIâm sorry,â she squeaks.
âItâs fine, I can handle it,â Henrik says.
Stacy takes a deep breath⌠and punches him. Henrik falls back into the chair from the force. Stacy cringes.
âYou⌠have a very strong punch,â Henrik remarks, holding his throbbing cheek. He holds a finger up when he sees her mouth move. âDonât apologize. You were right to do so.â
âI took karate as a kid,â Stacy boasts. âI won a black belt at age five.â
âGood for you! To be honest, it wasnât nearly as hard as my wifeâs,â Henrik admits.
âWell, at least I got my ârevengeâ- wait, what?!â Stacy does a double take. âLisette used to punch you?!â
âShe only did it once,â Henrik quickly adds. âAfter I called her a whore.â
âOh. That explains a lot,â Stacy deadpans.
âI deserved that as well,â Henrik says. âI just wish she hadnât moved so far away⌠I wonder how the girls are doing...â
âHave your children contacted you?â Stacy lightly presses.
âIâve tried to contact them,â Henrik says. âI donât think Lisette lets them write or call me.â
âThen Lisette really is an ass,â Stacy explodes. âWhat if they do want to talk to you? She canât hide them from you just because she doesnât like you.â
âThat doesnât seem to stop her. I keep my phone nearby in case Sophia calls when her mother isnât around.â Henrik pats his pocket. âOr maybe Rick will let her. Heâs quite nice and heâs good with kids, which is why I was quite surprised when he turned out to be-â
âA homewrecker?â Stacy suggests. Henrik glares at her, scandalized, but she can tell heâs trying to suppress a smile.
âSorry,â she mumbles, snickering.
âI was gonna say an ass, but thatâs better,â he says. Stacy bursts out laughing, but it quickly fades when she notices Chase. She clears her throat.
âIâm going to take the kids away for a while,â she reveals. âAt least until heâs emotionally stable to look after the kids.â
âYou know Chase would never let his depression get in the way of being a good father,â Henrik protests.
âI know. I just feel he needs a break from it all,â Stacy says. âMostly family life, me and Delilah in particular. Maybe she and I could go to my cottage in Scotland. We can stay there until he feels ready to share custody once more. He canât be alone, though. We know what will happen if he does. He canât go back home either. We still need to wash out the blood and dispose of any guns he might have. Of course I mean the real guns, but he might not want his Nerf toys either. He needs to be with someone , and that canât be me. I just donât know anyone he could stay with who lives in Athlone. We only just moved here.â
Henrik lights up. Holy shit. Itâs like destiny! This is the perfect opportunity! âHe can move in with us. Heâs already an ego. Heâd love it there. Sure itâs a bit chaotic, but I think heâd love it!â
Stacy raises an eyebrow. âWhat sort of chaotic?â she questions.
âThe local superhero likes to crash there, we have a magician who INSISTS on using us for test subjects for his latest tricks, and me, the âferal doctorâ,â Henrik lists off. âCome to think of it, Iâm actually the voice of reason.â
Stacy tries her best to hide a shudder. âI feel a little worried about his safety. And no offense, but itâs a bit concerning that youâre the voice of reason in that house.â
Henrik scoffs in mock insult and shoves her gently. âOh screw you! To be honest, Jackie is actually the smart one. Iâm the one who pays the taxes and keeps a roof over their head. Theyâre the ones who overstayed their visit.â
Stacy rolls her eyes, but sheâs smiling. She looks more relaxed than when she walked in. She stands up.
âI think itâs time I left. Good luck, Chase. I wish you all the best with your recovery.â Stacy leans over and gently kisses Chaseâs cheek before turning to Henrik and holding her hand out. Henrik returns it and gives it a small squeeze, only to be pulled in for a hug. He gasps in surprise.
âThank you Henrik,â she whispers. Henrik nods and returns the hug, holding her tightly until she signals to let go. Stacy picks up her bag and leaves.
Henrik sits back down and takes out his cellphone to call the egos. Jackie picks up after the first ring.
âHenrik? Are you okay?â
âI want you to clean the house and make some hot chocolate. Weâve got a new roommate coming to stay with us!â Henrik announces.
âIs it Chase? Is that who weâre taking in?â Jackie asks.
âYes. I want everything to be perfect, so go! Get cleaning!â the doctor commands.
âNeed us to pick you up?â Marvin suggests.
âI can drive just fine! See you soon!â Henrik hangs up just as Chase begins to stir. The doctor watches him apprehensively. He hasnât seen Chase since the argument. How will he react?
Chase groggily opens his eyes. He can see a bright light shining down on him and closes his eyes. âWhere⌠where am I?â
He slowly attempts to sit up. A soft pair of hands gently help him sit up and rub his back.Â
Chase blinks, trying to clear his vision. The blurry blue shape slowly comes into view⌠Henrik! The good doctor sits beside him with an anxious expression on his face.
Chase wracks his memory to try to remember what had happened. He can feel a heavy fabric wrapped around his head. He lifts a hand to better investigate⌠oh.
Henrikâs heart breaks when he sees Chase drop his hand, expression forlorn. Here we go, he thinks.
âChase?â Chase looks up. âBefore you say anything, know that you have every right to be mad at me and Jack. What we did was despicable and absolutely awful. You donât have to forgive us, and I completely understand if you never do. But you canât be alone right now. Youâre going through a really tough time, and the last thing you need to be is alone. I donât know if youâll accept it, but we have an extra room at home that would be a perfect spot for you to stay while you recover. I know you might not want to talk to me, but Jackie and Marvin are living with me, and they will ensure your time there will be as comfortable as possible. Itâs fine if you donât want to go, but just know that we will always be there when you need a place to stay.â
Chase is silent, simply gazing at Henrik with unshed tears. Finally, he throws his arms around Henrikâs neck. Henrik startles, but returns the hug.
âIs that a yes?â Henrik mumbles. Chase nods. Henrik sighs in relief and squeezes Chase tighter. Now all he has to do is hope Jackie and Marvin have the house ready by the time he returns.
Henrik parks the car in the driveway and turns to Chase. The vlogger fidgets with his t-shirt. Henrik puts a hand on his shoulder.
âJust warning you now, while Jackie and Marvin have good hearts and intentions, they can be little shits and thereâs a good chance the house will still be a mess when we get back in. Good luck.â
Chase whimpers in fear. Henrik nods solemnly. âMy thoughts exactly.â
The fathers unload the car and walk up to the front steps. Henrik takes a deep breath and opens the door.
âFIFTEEN FUCKING POINTS! I WIN AGAIN MOTHERFUCKER!â Jackie screeches. Marvin roars in anger and tosses a pillow at Jackie, who backhands it. The pillow soars across the house and slams into Henrik, who grunts in alarm and falls backward. Chase shrieks in alarm, gaping at his fallen friend.
Marvin and Jackie turn around, bright blue eyes glaring into Chase. Marvinâs eye twitches sporadically and Jackie smiles like a madman. Chase nervously waves. Marvin clears his throat and forces a sleep-deprived smile.
âHowdy, Chase!â
#attempted suicide tw#suicidal ideation tw#blood mention tw#extreme distress tw#apparently i can write#jacksepticeye#dr. schneeplestein#chase brody#jackieboy man#marvin the magnificent#writersofjack#writers of jack
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Okay, now I know you're accepting prompts for the CMIYC verse, expect a whole lot of them coming from me đI'd LOVE to see Emma finding out she's pregnant, and her telling Killian, and just their whole journey through her pregnancy!
This isnât going to cover everything you asked for @dorisquinn but Iâve got 2/3. You can send me all of the prompts you want. Honestly, seeing your enthusiasm as well as the enthusiasm of others to still want parts of this universe makes me so happy! You guys should see the timeline I just mapped out to make sure everything stays cohesive because Iâve got some more extras to write for you guys đ
found on ao3 | here |
-/-
March 2022.
âThese boxes are never going to get unpacked.â
âWe could have hired someone, you know.â
âIâm not even working full-time right now. Thereâs no need for us to have hired someone when all Iâm doing is sitting at home.â
âYou go to meetingsâŚon occasion.â
âI have a meeting tomorrow. Stop making that look on your face, twenty-nine.â
âThereâs not a look on my face, besides a handsome one.â
Emma huffs and falls back against the wall, sinking down onto the ground and pulling her knees to her chest. They should have moved as soon as last season ended. It would have given them more time to unpack the ridiculous amount of stuff they somehow accumulated over the past three years, but there was a problem with the closing and then the plumbing, and they officially signed for this place two weeks into spring training. Killian had to fly back from Florida for the paperwork, spent one night in the house with her where all they had was their bed set up, and then he went straight back to the hell that is Florida humidity.
At least theyâre not there for months at a time in the summer. Everyone would die. Itâs bad enough when theyâre in Tampa for a few days at a time.
(Then again, humidity in New York in the summer is no joke.)
She could have flown down and stayed with him, already has for a few days here and there, but they need to get settled before the season starts and things get insane. Things are really never not insane, but there are definitely periods where there is a little more peace.
Off-season is undoubtedly her favorite season.
She loves baseball and the game and working almost every day, but having Killian home for months at a time and being able to sleep in their own bed instead of a hotel bed is so much better than anything else.
Emma definitely wants the off-season back.
And this house to be unpacked.
One of those things is more likely to happen than the other, and itâs not the house getting unpacked.
âI miss you,â Emma whispers into the phone.
âI miss you, love. You know you can fly down anytime, right? Thereâs nothing keeping you there. Itâs been less than a week, but I miss you terribly.â
She flips the camera around to all of the boxes. âI donât want to be living in chaos. I want, like, some kind of organization. I told myself that when I left my room key with you that I would not be flying back to Florida. I have to get this place functional.ââI know weâve been married for nearly a year, love, but I donât think you should be turning into me quite this quickly with all of that talk of organization.ââTechnically, as far as everyone else knows, weâre only nine months into this whole marriage thing, so thatâs not quite a year.â
âSpecifics.ââRuby was over here yesterday helping me unpack and found the pictures from the clerkâs office. Iâm pretty sure she figured us out.ââI think David has known for awhile now.ââWhy do you think that?â
âJust a hunch.âEmma groans and scoots further down on the floor. âIf David knew, he would have said something.ââAye, youâre likely right.â Killian smiles, his face slightly pixilated. âCome see me this weekend, Swan. I know you said no more flights, but maybe just the one more. Iâll take you to dinner. Wine and dine you and all that.ââI think thereâs a third part of that proposition.â
Killian gasps and holds his hand to his chest. âDirty.â
âYou know it, twenty-nine.â
âI think you mean sixty-nine.â
âOh my God.â
Killian chuckles and pushes his hair back. Itâs too long again. He hasnât gotten it cut in months, and as handsome as he looks, sheâs desperately waiting for him to get it cut. Suggesting it hasnât really worked out well for her, but if he likes it long, he likes it long. Itâs not like sheâd appreciate it if he told her to shave her legs or something like that.
âIâve got to go to workouts, but Iâll call you again tonight, yeah?â
âI look forward to it. I love you.ââAnd I you, my love.â
The video lingers for a moment, and then it disconnects, only the memory of Killianâs smile there.
She misses him like crazy. Itâs ridiculous and stupid and kind of annoying. Maybe she should go down and see him this weekend. Itâs not like she has this weekend. Spring training is almost over, and she could wait it out. She really could. Thatâs what sheâs told herself sheâll do, but should she if she doesnât have to? Maybe if she gets enough boxes unpacked.
Hell, maybe she should just cave and hire people to do it for her, but she put up such a dumb fight when Killian suggested it that she doesnât want to admit to failure now. Not that heâd ever truly judge her for it.
Okay. Heâd judge her a little bit.
Her phone buzzes in her hand.
Elsa: You planning on letting me in?
Shit. The doorbell didnât sound, and Emma didnât hear a knock at the door. Quickly, she stands from the ground and kicks a box to the side before hurrying down two sets of stairs to get to the front door. She loves having more space than the apartment, but she doesnât love all of the stairs. At least, right now. Soon sheâll hopefully kick ass at being able to walk up and down them quickly.
Hopefully her ass will look fantastic because of it too.
Damn Manhattan and its lack of space.
âHey,â Emma greets after unlocking the front door. âDid you ring the doorbell?â
âI did.â
âWell shit.â Emma leans forward and wraps her arms around Elsa. âI guess our doorbell is broken too. Do you know anything about electrical work?â
âI know how to hook up our cable, but thatâs about it.â
âThen what good are you to me?â
âI bring you donuts.â
âBless you.â
âI know.â Elsa steps inside, closing the door behind her, and immediately walks toward the kitchen where she puts down the bag of donuts sheâs carrying and then immediately starts looking around the room. âHave you unpacked any of the kitchen?â
âA few things. Mostly things I use. Itâs all Killianâs, and he hasnât really been here to tell me where to put anything. I donât know his system as well as I should.â
âDo you have silverware out? Plates and bowls?â
âI have a few things but not all of it.â
Elsa sighs and pulls her shorts up and then adjusts her t-shirt. She took the day off to help Emma unpack, and, really, she should be lounging around watching TV or something. âI donât mean to go all mom on you, but grab a donut. Weâre about to unpack your kitchen. Then we move to your bedroom and your closet so you can at least function. Everything else will come later.â
âAs long as I get a donut, this all sounds good to me.â
âYou can have another if you finish this room.â
âIâm good with a bribe.â
âIncentive. It makes it sound less dirty.â
Emma laughs. âDeal.â
Elsa is some kind of unpacking machine. Itâs actually ridiculous. She knows exactly how to store everything in their cabinets and the pantry, and while Emma is sure Killian will rearrange it all when he realizes itâs not to his specifications, after three hours, they have all of the kitchen boxes emptied. Itâs practically a miracle, and Emma didnât even need an extra donut to make her do the work.
(An extra donut is sounding really good right now, though. Elsa got the good kind.)
All she really needed was Elsa. If they had Anna here, though, Emma imagines the entire house would be finished by now. Well, if Anna wasnât eight months pregnant. Mary Margaret would probably be the better choice, but sheâs got a class full of third-graders to attend to. Ruby, however, would bring everything to a halt because sheâd get distracted by the things she was unpacking.
They move upstairs and back to the bedroom after theyâre finished in kitchen, and Elsa sticks to the bedroom while Emma works in the closet. Sheâs got some of her clothes up, mostly her workout stuff, and even though their stuff is boxed in a way that should make it easy to hang up several things at once, Emma keeps getting distracted trying to organize it in a way thatâs not something sheâs going to sustain.
Seriously. Who is organized enough to keep things sorted by color?
Killian. Killian is. He organizes his freaking t-shirts by how old they are.
The weirdo.
Emma finally decides to just do it by type of clothing, and after sheâs gotten all of her dresses on the racks, she decides that she needs some kind of break. She did not sleep last night, and no amount of coffee could wake her up.
Has she even had coffee today?
Or maybe sheâs simply bored by having to unpack. Thatâs a lot of the same thing over and over again, and all Emma really wants to be doing is watching Netflix.
Slowly, she slides back down to the ground and pulls out her phone again, answering her texts and then clicking on Instagram to move away the notifications. Itâs all stuff Killian has tagged her in, and she quickly moves through the videos and memes before clicking on his page. Itâs been mostly baseball lately, pictures of him, Will, and Robin, but if she scrolls a little further back, there are pictures of Liam and Elsa or Addy and Lucy. And then there are pictures of her. She mostly uses social media for work, but she does like to get on and see what Killian has posted. Itâs usually something sheâs never seen, and there are at least ten pictures on here that she had no idea were taken.
Thereâs one in particular that she likes the most. Itâs from last November. They were in Portland for Thanksgiving sitting on the swing in Ruthâs backyard, and Killian snapped a photo of her drinking coffee, the sun glinting off of her skin in just the right way so that she looked tanner than she actually was.
My love forever, the caption reads.
That day had beenâŚhard. It had been fucking awful, actually, but Killian had wrapped his arms around her and held her until it wasnât so awful.
Thatâs what he does. He makes awful days feel that little bit better simply by being there.
She likes that, likes that she has that forever now.
My love forever.
She has had that love for awhile with David and Ruth, with her friends too, and while she doesnât like to put some relationships over others, Killian does get the slightest elevation.
Itâs good to have all that love. Itâs healthy, and if someone asked her twenty years ago if sheâd ever have any of this, she would have laughed in their face.
She canât stop staring at the photo and all of the memories behind it. She had been so sure that morning, and it wasnâtâŚshe wasnât.
âHey, Emma, do you have â woah, whatâs wrong?â
âWhat?â Emma sniffles, wiping below her eyes. âWhat makes you think something is wrong?â
âYouâre sitting on the floor sniffling and wiping your eyes. Those are pretty big clues.â
Emma scoffs. âIâm fine.ââYouâre a liar.ââEls, Iâm fine.â
âI believe you about as much as I believe Killian when he says that.â Elsa walks over to her to and slides down onto the floor next to her, kicking away a shoe and grabbing onto Emmaâs forearm. âYou want to talk about whatever it is? You know you donât have to, but Iâm a good listener. I couldnât be married to Liam if I wasnât.â
âLiam does talk a lot.â
âI think itâs a Jones family trait.â
âI think I might be pregnant.â
She might have that trait too for the way she just blurted that out.
Elsa gasps, and Emma braces herself for it just like she braces herself for it every time this conversation comes up. Sheâs the one who brought it up this time, but it was kind of inevitable when this is honestly all sheâs been thinking about for two days now.
For a little more than two days if sheâs totally honest.
âI didnâtâŚIâm not,â Emma stutters, trying to continue talking before she shuts herself up, âI never thought I would be someone who wanted a baby. I thought I was going to be alone for so much of my life, so when Killian and I decided to try and kept having these negative tests, I donât know. I, well, it sucks, and itâs been really damn hard. It hasnât even been a long time, and weâre still so young. I probably shouldnât even complain because I know itâs harder for other people. Itâs just that a part of me feels like Iâve gotten so much good in my life I was never supposed to get. What if this is the thing I donât get? What if I have this feeling in my gut now because itâs some kind of sign that I should give up before my hopes get too high?â
âOh, darling,â Elsa sighs as she wraps her arm around Emmaâs back and pulls her toward her, rubbing her hand up and down her arm, âyou canât think like that. The world doesnât give you a certain amount of good and then just stop. You can have more good than you think you deserve. I do. And that feeling of helplessness when it comes to getting pregnant and it not working as fast as you want? Iâve had that too. Itâs what happened with Lucy.â
âYeah?â
âYeah. I thought maybe Addison was going to be it for us, and we were like you two. We hadnât been trying for a long time, but it could still feel hopeless when Addison was so easy. Getting pregnant is hard, and unless you talk to others like this, thereâs no way youâd know. All youâd see is the happy announcements and the smiles.â
Emma turns her head into Elsaâs shoulder. Itâs a good thing sheâs not wearing mascara because sheâd totally ruin Elsaâs t-shirt.
âSo Iâm not some kind of freak show for sitting in my closet freaking out about this?â
âEmma, having a baby, or even the possibility of it, is the most terrifying thing in the world. If you werenât having meltdowns, Iâd be concerned about you.â
âThis is so not in my wheelhouse,â Emma mumbles. âI talk for a living, talking about this isâŚdifferent.â
âBaseballs and babies arenât exactly in the same category.â
âThey are on Family Day.ââYeah, well, you know what I mean.â
Emma huffs and pulls away from Elsa, leaning her head back against the wall. âThis closet is still such a mess. My shoes are everywhere.â
âOh, I know. I think Iâm going to need to borrow those wedges that are caught up underneath the pile of Killianâs jerseys.â
âThey are yours to borrow.â
âNot to keep?â
âNah, I like them too much for that.â
Elsa laughs and twists on the ground until sheâs facing Emma, small smile on her face. âYouâre going to be okay. You and Killian both. And if you ever need to talk, Liam and I are always here. Anna too.â
âAnna is eight months pregnant with twins. All she does is warn people against getting pregnant. I donât think sheâs ever going to have sex again.â
âCan you blame her?â
âAbsolutely not.â
Elsa claps her hands together. âOkay, letâs conquer this closet, and then Iâm taking you home with me for dinner so youâre not left in this house stalking your husbandâs Instagram.â
âI was not doing that.â
âYou totally were. I could see it on your screen when I walked in.â
âIâm taking away your shoe privileges.â
Elsa quickly gets up and runs over to the wedges, picking them up. âNope. Theyâre mine now.â
-/-
Sheâs pregnant.
Or, at least, thatâs what the three tests she took this morning said.
Emma had gone over to Liam and Elsaâs last night for dinner, and sheâd forgotten about everything. She really had, and it had been nice not to think about it and to be able to know that her life was going to go on no matter what. She knew that. Logically, she did. Her life is not defined by what a pregnancy test says, but when itâs what you wantâŚ
When itâs what she and Killian want.
And they might get now.
Oh shit. She is not ready to give birth.
Thatâs not even happening right now, or in the near future, but itâs going to happen. Emmaâs pretty sure itâs some kind of torture device designed to make being a woman even more difficult, but sheâs got to stop thinking of that right now.
What sheâs got to start thinking about is the fact that sheâs in New York while Killian is in Florida.
Florida.
Shit. Sheâs got to book a flight to Florida.
She said she wasnât going to do it, but that was before she knew for sure.
That was before.
Where the hell is her neck pillow?
Emma gets off the rim of the tub and walks into the bedroom, grabbing her laptop off the charger and stretching out on the bed while trying to find the next flight. There are a few this afternoon, but sheâs got meetings she canât cancel. Thereâs one she might be able to make around seven, though, and she quickly enters her information and books a one-way ticket.
Sheâs never been so excited to go to Florida.
-/-
âCan I get an extra key to room 835?â
âAnd your name is?â
âEmma Jones.â
The receptionist starts typing on her keyboard, looking up at Emma and then looking back at her computer, her brows furrowed. âIâm sorry. Thereâs not an Emma Jones in that room.â
âI know. Itâs my husbandâs room. Itâs under his name. Killian Jones. It should be under the block of rooms for the Yankees.â
âMaâam, Iâm sorry, but I canât give you a key to that room. Itâs our policy, especially when it comes to our VIP guests in our suites. Itâs for their safety.â
Emma has to fight the urge to roll her eyes. Sheâs exhausted. Itâs been a long ass day, she sat next to someone who snored the entire flight down here, and all she wants to do is see Killian. Why the hell did she leave her key with Killian last week?
Oh, yeah, because she wasnât supposed to come back.
âIf I was some kind of stalker, how would I know his room number?â
âYou would be surprised what people know.â
She sighs and pulls out her phone, clicking on Arielâs name.
âEmma?â
âAriel, can you get me an extra key to Killianâs room?â
âAre you here?â Ariel squeals before quieting. âWait.â Thereâs a mumble and then the sound of a chair squeaking before Arielâs voice comes back into focus. âSorry. Weâre out at dinner, and I had to move away from the table. This is a surprise, right?â
âMhm.â
âThat is literally the sweetest thing Iâve ever heard.â
âYou need to hear more things.â
âOh, hush. Iâll call the front desk. Weâve got to be back soon anyways because I have to relieve the babysitter for Morgan, so it wonât be too long.â
âThat sounds perfect. Iâll probably see you tomorrow, okay?â
âI canât wait, and I promise that my lips are sealed.â
They hang up, and the front deskâs phone immediately rings. The receptionist nods and smiles and is completely and totally nice to Ariel, typing in a few things on her computer as she avoids eye contact with Emma. Then the conversation is over and Emma is being handed a card.
âThis works for both the elevator and the room. Have a nice night, Mrs. Jones.â
âThanks,â Emma says, forcing a smile. She knows the woman was just doing her job, but it doesnât keep her from being annoyed. Sheâs not about to be pissy with her though. âHave a good night.â
Grabbing her luggage, she maneuvers out of the lobby and to the elevator. She knows this hotel better than any other hotel in the country from how much sheâs stayed here, and she easily makes her way up to Killianâs room, sliding the card in the door and sighing in relief that the clerk actually gave her a key that worked. She was worried that she wouldnât.
Killianâs suite is clean, and Emma knows itâs not just because of housekeeping. The man is so damn particular about everything, and even though all she wants to do is curl up in bed and go to sleep, she opens up her suitcase and starts putting her few clothes away, making sure not to mess with any of Killianâs stuff. Itâs what he would end up doing later anyways, and if she does it now, itâll be one less thing heâll have to focus on.
How the hell is she supposed to tell him that sheâs pregnant?
Thatâs something she should have focused on for the flight down here, but all she could think about was how much she wanted to murder the man who was snoring next to her.
Sheâs going to be great at the whole getting no sleep thing.
Did she really want this? Did they? Are they crazy? What drives someone to want to have a baby? Yeah, theyâre cute, but then they grow up and yell at you for telling them not to eat straight sugar for dinner. And she didnât have parents. Well, she has Ruth, but she didnât have Ruth for fifteen years. Killianâs mom died, and his dad is a piece of shit. What do either of them know about babies and being parents?
What do either of them know about kids in general?
Well, they do have nieces and nephews and friends with kids. Hell, their friends have had so many kids. Itâs like in the past two years all anyone has done is pop a kid out and â
The door to the suite beeps, and Emma doesnât even realize sheâs been pacing for a long time until Killianâs standing right in front of her blinking with his mouth wide open.
âHi,â Emma squeaks out.
Itâs official. She is not herself today.
âFucking hell,â Killian mumbles.
âWell, thatâs always the greeting a girl â â
Killian strides forward and cups her cheeks before pulling her to him with his mouth, sucking on her bottom lip before he starts moving and canât seem to stop. Itâs been less than a week. Thatâs all. It hasnât even been that long since theyâve been apart. They make it a point to never go more than nine days, but sheâs missed him more than she ever has.
Melodramatic and all that.
âWhat,â he starts, still kissing her, âare,â he continues as his lips move to her jaw, âyou,â he sighs against her cheek, âdoing,â he whispers against her eyelid, âhere?â he finishes as his lips find hers once more while their foreheads rest against each other.
âI really missed Scarlet.â
Killian tilts his head back and barks out a laugh as his hands move from her cheeks to her biceps, squeezing them. Her stomach is absolutely swirling.
âGod, I love you. Youâre â â He shakes his head, and his eyes crinkle. Heâs gotten darker during training, and thereâs the slightest tan line from where heâll wear his hat backwards during pitching drills outside.
âIâm what?â
âWell, if I were to list all of the things you are, I imagine weâd be standing here forever.â
Emma scoffs and pushes at his chest before moving closer once more so she can wrap her arms around his neck. âWhy are you the way that you are?â
âCharming? I believe I was born this way.â
Itâs Emmaâs turn to shake her head at him. She presses up on her toes and lingers until her breath is ghosting over his mouth. âI love you, twenty-nine.â
âGood. I love you, Swan.â
She finally kisses him then, and Killian slowly backs her up to the bed until sheâs falling down on top of it. All thoughts leave her mind as his lips and his hands move over her, and they truly disappear when his mouth is between her thighs and all she can think is how damn good that feels. It almost always does, like some kind of magic thatâs bottled between the two of them, and even when itâs not good, Emma knows that thereâs no one sheâd rather get lockjaw or really unfortunate cramps with.
And weirdly, as Killian swivels his hips and hits just the right rhythm, she knows that no matter how much sheâs freaking out about everything, the two of them have got this.
âDid you know the front-desk clerk thought I was a stalker?â Emma asks later. They havenât changed back into any clothes, and Emma canât seem to stop twirling Killianâs chest hair around her fingers while his hand dances across her back, tracing familiar words there.
âReally now?â
âMhm. I tried to get a room key, and she refused to give me one.â
âAh, well, I have been having an influx of stalkers lately. It must be my devilishly good looks.â
âYouâre never lacking in confidence, are you? Even when it comes to joking about something thatâs not funny.â
âYou would know more than anyone how that isnât true.â
Emma leans down to kiss his chest before resting her chin there. The air conditioner clicks on, and a cold rush of air runs over Emmaâs bare skin. Killian tugs the comforter up over a little more of her back, and they sit in silence as Emma starts counting how fast her heart is beating. If she doesnât tell him tonight, she wonât sleep. Itâll eat at her until the morning, and with how exhausted she is from not sleeping two nights in a row, she really canât afford another night without sleep.
She also hasnât had coffee in days. That has sucked.
âKillian, I â â
She stops when his finger traces her name into her back. âWhat is it, love?â
âNothing,â Emma begins, even if she knows itâs everything. âItâs justâŚKillian, Iâm pregnant.â
For the rest of her life sheâll remember that Killian stopped blinking for a few seconds too long. Sheâll remember that his eyes are slightly red-rimmed from his own lack of sleep, and sheâll remember the way that slowly but surely his lips curl from a small smile to one of the brightest sheâs ever seen from him.
âAre you? For real? Iâm not imagining this conversation?â
Emma inhales and nods. âI think so. I wouldnât be far along. Like, at all, so anything could happen. But my period is late, and I took, like, three tests this morning that were positive. Peeing on a stick never feels normal.â
Killian chuckles as his free hand comes around to tuck her hair behind her ear. Heâs so gentle like that, and she doesnât know what she did to deserve him. He can be hot-headed and impatient and ready to act on his anger instead of thinking it through, but at his core, Killian Jones is a good man.
âAye, I imagine not.â
He leans down to glide his lips over hers, and even if Emma had imagined what it would be like to tell Killian they better start reading all of those books so they have some clue what theyâre doing, she knows none of it would be better than this.
Calm and content and like they were always supposed to end up here.
âI love you, Swan,â Killian whispers as his hand shifts from her back to her stomach. âI donât â thank you for being by my side for all of this.ââAlways, twenty-nine. Always.â
-/-
-/-
Tag list: @bluewildcatfanaticâ @killianswannn @dorisquinnâ @onepunintendidâ @authorarsinoeâ @stunningswanâ @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfuryâ @superchocovianâ @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blogâ @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethingsâ @carpedzemâ @tornadoamyâ â
#catch me if you can#cs fic#cs ff#cs fanfic#captain swan ff#captain swan fic#captain swan fanfic#captain swan#dorisquinn
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âmuseâ: ch. 1 | matt (bbtl)
matt x oc fanfic
warnings: none!
a/n: this will obviously be divided in chapters, but idk how many lmao. hope you enjoy!
CHAPTER 1
Luton, 1981.
âWhy do you have to leave? Why canât you stay with us?â he asked, almost crying. His best friend was leaving them for good, they wonât be able to see her again.
âIâm sorry Javed. My dad found a job in Liverpool and we have to move. I donât want to, but I have toâ Mia answered trying to comfort her friend.
âYou could stay in my house. My mum would love to have you living with usâŚâ Javed muttered the last words, looking down at his feet.
Mia smiled. He was such a nice guy. âI know she would. I would too. But Liverpool isnât that far! I could come to visit you in summerâ she assured him, looking at the brunette boy next to Javed. âRight, Matt?â
He was surprisingly quiet, which was kind of unusual, since he was the one who talked the most among the three of them. In fact, he hasnât said a word since Mia broke the news to them.
âHow far is it?â Javed was now looking at her, with an expression full of hope.
âIâm not entirely sure, like⌠2 hours? 3 hours?â
â3 hours and 36 minutes to be exactâ Matt sounded angry. But well, he finally said something. He turned around to go to his house, he couldnât stand this situation anymore. He was pissed.
âMatt, where are you going?â she grabbed his arm, but he let go of her grip. Mia looked at him, worried. âMatt?â
âLeave me aloneâ he answered, running to the door.
- - - - - - -Â
Luton, six years later.
Itâs good to be back Mia thought, looking through the window of the car. The sky was blue with a few clouds, and the breeze was a little bit chilly. She missed this. She missed her hometown.
Her father parked the car outside the house and sighed. âLadies and gentlemen, weâre back in this holeâ Susie punched his arm. âOuch! Why was that for?â
âDonât say that. This is your hometown!â
âThat doesnât deny the fact that this city is awfulâ his wife laughed. âNow, letâs get out things out of this old carâ they got out of it and Oliver opened the boot.
âCâmon silly, letâs help mum and dadâ her older sister Nellie said and both got out of the car as well. Mia grabbed the box that said âMiaâs things â FRAGILE!!â and put it on the floor, next to the door. Their house was in the same neighbourhood they used to live in six years ago. Everything was the same, and she hoped their old neighbours were still there. Especially two of them.
âThe boxes wonât get out of the car themselvesâ her sister playfully pushed her and laughed.
âDo you think that Javed and Matt are still living here?â Mia asked. Nellie shrugged. âI mean, Javed for sure, we know his family. But Matt?â they grabbed the last two boxes while Susie opened the door and entered.
âOh, now thatâs the real questionâ she wiggled her eyebrows. Mia furrowed.
âWhat do you mean?â she grabbed her own box and entered the house.
âDonât act like you donât know, donât play with meâ Nellie was carrying her own big box, full of books. âYou know exactly what I mean. Mia and Matt sitting in the tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g!â she started to sing and Mia rolled her eyes.
âI was fucking 8 years old!â her mother yelled âwatch your languageâ from the kitchen. âSorry! I was 8 years old Nellie, my crush on him is part of the pastâ
âAha, then why did you blush when I started singing?â Mia rolled her eyes again. She was in love with Matt since they were 8, but never told him. Why though? She was sure he would never return the feelings.
âGirls, your rooms are upstairs. Do you think youâd need help to carry the boxes there?â asked their dad. He was panting from all the heavy boxes he carried from the car to the house.
âNope, I think weâre goodâ Mia said, offering his dad her water bottle. Nellie and Mia took their stuff and went upstairs.
âAnyways, are you sure you donât feel anything for Matt?â
Mia sighed. âI told you, no.â
âWhat a shame, you two would make a beautiful and annoying coupleâ Mia gave her a âI will kill youâ look and Nellie laughed. âDo you want help to unpack?â sometimes, Nellie can truly be a pain in the ass sometimes, but sheâs always willing to help her little sister.
âIâm good Nellie, thank youâ she gave her a thumb up and closed her bedroom door. As she started to unpack her things, she began to think. What would Matt and Javed be doing now? Are they still friends? Are they still living in the neighbourhood? Is Matt still obsessed with the idea of being a musician? Is Javed still pursuing his dreams of being a writer?
 - - - - - - -Â
After helping her parents unpack and taking a long and relaxing bath, Mia run downstairs and met with her mother, who was baking some cookies. She grabbed a chocolate bar from the cupboard and her denim jacket, decorated with pins and patches of her favourite bands.
âYouâre going outside, my love?â asked her mother while putting some frosting on top of the cookies.
âI was about to. Do you need help?â the cookies looked and smelled delicious, like everything her mum baked.
âNo sweetie, thank you. Enjoy the walkâ Mia smiled and kissed her mum on the cheek. She waved goodbye to his father, who was reading the newspaper and went outside. She expected to see Mr Evans or Mrs Hudson with her triplets, who would be all grown up now.
The little square in the neighbourhood was still the same, the purple swing she loved when little was still there. Some kids were running, others playing and laughing while their parents watched. Memories of her, Matt and Javed playing there came to her mind. She remembered one specific summer day, when there was a big storm coming and they were forbidden to go outside. Still, they managed to sneak out of their houses and went to the park.
Just before the storm started, they were found by their angry and worried parents, who grounded them for almost two weeks. The punishment was not seeing each other for those weeks, and it was a torture for them. They were truly inseparable.
Mia was finishing her chocolate bar when she saw a young man with his Walkman park his bicycle outside his house. She recognized him instantly. There he is she thought. She went after him. âHey strangerâ the teenage got his headphones off and turned around. He frowned and smirked.
âMia?â he slowly approached her and when she nodded, he embraced her. âI missed you so much! What are you doing here?â
âWell we moved back hereâ she looked at him. He was now a tall young man, but with a worried expression on his face. She immediately thought about his familyâs struggles with job and money.
âDid your dad lose his job?â
âNo, no he didnât, he was transferred back hereâ she put her hands in her pocket and smiled at him. Such a long time without seeing him.
âThatâs so cool! Seriously, we missed you. Look at you, youâre all grown up!â
âYou too J! You look like a college student alreadyâ they laughed. âHowâs your family?â
He shrugged. âItâs getting hard for us to make ends meet, but weâre fineâ.
They sat on the curb and talked about what they did in those six years of not seeing each other, about their families, and how Liverpool seemed cooler than Luton.
âI assure you J, itâs a nice city but only because the Beatles were born thereâ she laughed. They loved the Beatles when they were children, they used to sing Let It Be on rainy days. Mia smiled at the memory and turned to Javed. âJ, you and Matt are still friends, right?â
âWe are, but I donât see him much often. He dropped school last yearâ
âHe did what?!â that was strange. Matt was eccentric like his father, but this was another lever of eccentricity.
âHe wants to focus on his career as a musician, so he dropped school and now he has a bandâ
âThatâs cool, but how did his father agree to his decision?â
âYou know how he is; it didnât take a lot to convince him. Like father like sonâ he rolled his eyes and she giggled. âAre you⌠uhm⌠still in love withâŚâ
âNope. It was just a teenage crush, and I havenât seen him in yearsâ
âOw. You two would make a lovely coupleâ he pouted as she punched his arm playfully. A car was being parked in front of Javedâs house, music was playing loud from the speakers. âOh, lookâ. A young boy with a mullet and black jacket got out of it, waved goodbye to his friends and made his way to the door of his house as the car drove away. âMatt!â Javed stood up and waved his hand. Mia got on her feet, standing a little nervous next to her friend.
Matt turned and smiled. ââEllo J!â he run to him and gave him a hug. Then he turned to the girl next to Javed, checking her out. âMind to introduce me to this lovely lady, Javed?â Mia gulped. She didnât know why she was so nervous.
âYou donât need that; you know her alreadyâ Matt frowned. âOh man, you donât remember Mia?â
Mattâs eyes were wide open. âWhat?!â his expression of surprise changed quickly into a happy one. âMia! Come âere loveâ he immediately wrapped his arms around her. She returned the hug, shocked.
Oh.
Maybe her feelings for him hasnât changed. Not one bit.
#dean charles chapman#matt blinded by the light#dean charles chapman blinded by the light#bbtl#dean charles chapman x oc#dean charles chapman imagine
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the whole 12 minutes is gold but especially this part:
for too long those of us with opportunity and privilege have failed and our responsibility to look at the truth squarely and name the system of racial oppression that artificially divides Americans and benefits those already in positions of relative power.
Itâs perfectly understandable to not want to do this. Itâs human. No one wants to lose privileges or position. Especially when fear of that loss is magnified and stoked by political leaders for their own supposed Advantage. I say supposed Advantage because if you deny the human rights and dignity of any people you will ultimately destroy the society and civilization that you claim to protect.
58 years ago John Kennedy said those who make peaceful Revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.
Not only is addressing systemic racial and economic Injustice The right thing to do. It is the safest most conservative most self-protecting most self-serving thing to do. Â contents Under Pressure will eventually explode and thatâs not a threat thatâs a law of nature. So itâs time to ask ourselves as it is always time to ask ourselves. What kind of nation do we want to live in?
that answer requires moral leadership.
Take it upon yourself to be a leader and set an example of the kind of country You want to live in.
that might mean going down to a protest or making a donation or having a tense conversation about race,
but youâre not going to get that from the White House. So we need to step up and provide it ourselves. America is now officially byop: Â be your own president.
(Full speech-to-text transcription under cut)
iâm Stephen Colbert, well, weâre back after 10 days off and I never imagined that after 10 days a global pandemic would not be the lead story.
Remember when we were all afraid of our groceries. I miss those days.
No the story that has pushed 100,000 covid deaths below the fold is Americaâs pre-existing condition- racism. Â protests against police targeting black people have broken out in dozens of cities.
So April was global pandemic May is massive Nationwide protests over systemic racism. I assume June is a plague of locusts then in July pleated pants are coming back.
Thatâs not just US citizens protesting racism in the United States. protesters gathered in London Toronto. Even Berlin, you know, itâs bad when Germany thinks your country is racist thatâs like Jamaica telling you to put down the bong.
These protests were sparked last Monday by the extrajudicial execution of a man named George Floyd face down in a Street in Minneapolis Floyd died after a police officer knelt on his neck for nearly nine minutes now in civilized countries thatâs called Murder.  Minneapolis police officer and cop who so dirty even his badge is crooked Derek Chauvin even adding to the outrage is that it took four days to arrest the officer even though thereâs  video of him doing it.
It would be the shortest episode of Law & Order ever in the criminal justice system. The people are represented by two separate but equally important groups the police who investigate crime and the district attorneys who prosecute the offenders who in this case are the police because come on we all saw the video. What are you waiting for? Thatâs it. Iâm going to the protest. do the "dun dunâ.
Even after Chauvin was arrested. He was charged with third-degree murder. Thatâs a pretty light charge. Thatâs like Prosecuting Jeffrey Dahmer for a bad case of the munchies. We find the defendant, hangry.
Plus the other three officers involved have not been charged with the crime. So if youâre wondering why people are so upset. Itâs because this is so upsetting. Also, itâs not an isolated incident on the very same day that Floyd was killed. There was another viral video of a white woman named Amy Cooper who is confronted by a black bird watcher who asked her to put her dog on a leash in Central Park, and he responded by doing this and Iâve hidden please. Please call the cops. Please call the cops. African American man threatening my life. She knows exactly what sheâs doing and why that man should be afraid of the police a brilliant performance. She should win the white lady Oscar. Â also known as the Oscar.
now Floydâs death comes on the heels of Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arberyurry and also has Eerie similarities to Eric Garner in 2014. And in that same year, there was the case of Michael Brown in Ferguson Tamir rice and Cleveland all of those Echo Emmett Till and the Scottsboro boys, which happened in the context of Jim Crow, which itself was a soft relaunch of slavery. See really got to go back to the Triangle Trade which ultimately stems from man. Manâs inhumanity to man and are essential Fallen nature. So maybe start with the Garden of Eden actually, you know what in the beginning there was a single point of all matter and energy under tremendous pressure. But you know, thereâs always a few bad atoms and the whole thing exploded
now in times like these we need empathetic and moral leadership. Unfortunately. We have Donald Trump. normally during National unrest president step up and address the nationâs pain.
Following the death of Michael Brown President Obama met with activists in the White House President Clinton comfort of the nation with a moving address after the Oklahoma City bombing. Even Richard Nixon in 1970 made a surprise trip, or he spoke to students protesting the Vietnam War who can forget his stirring words. Weâve got to come together and defeat are common. Enemy. The Jews I wrote down on this rushed
Trump canât even match the compassion of a Nixon because as the Protests raged on Pfizerâs discuss the prospect of an oval office address in an attempt to ease tensions, but the idea was quickly scrapped for lack of policy proposals and the presidentâs own seeming disinterest in delivering a message of unity. Okay? Mr. President. Weâre thinking a short powerful speech from the Resolute desk where you call for racial healing. Iâm sorry. Whatâs that sir? You want to act it out with a box of Aunt Jemima. You know what? Letâs just scrap the whole thing. Today Trump had a call with the nationâs Governors to discuss the ongoing protests and he read straight from the authoritarian Playbook. Why isnât comforting words. It reminds me of what? Mr. Rogers said about times of tragedy. Look for the dominators. Oh wonât you be? Oh you will be my neighbor you jerk.
That was mr. Rogers dominating someone.
Then Trump said something really scary, you know and youâll never see this stuff again. So people are upset about systemic racism and a society that over polices and imprisons black people and Trump solution is to do more of that. You know, what they say those who refuse to learn from history are Donald Trump. So Donald Trump is the big tough guy going to dominate the opposition pew pew pew so naturally on Friday as
Range nearby Trump took shelter in the White House bunker. Well if history has taught us anything is that things always work out well for strong men who Retreat to underground bunkers. Mr. President. Come on. This is your moment. Youâre always calling to beat up protesters at your rallies. You could shut this whole thing down just pop a couple of hydroxy xand come out of the White House swinging a 5-iron with a Confederate flag tape do it. But instead he tweeted great job last night at the White House by the US Secret Service. Service, they were not only totally professional but a very cool. I was inside watched every move and couldnât have felt more safe adding a nobody came close to breaching the fence. If they had they would dad dad. Dad. Dad dot-dot-dot have been greeted with the most officious dogs and most ominous weapons Iâve ever seen thatâs when people would have been really badly hurt at least many Secret.
Agents just waiting for Action. We put the young ones on the front line sir. They love it. I donât know why theyâre not letting him give that reassuring speech from the Oval Office my fellow Americans. Let me send a clear message to the people protesting police brutality law enforcement is just a bunch of cool guys who cannot wait for things to get crazy. They see you as target practice now a truly enjoy watching you get eaten by vicious. Dogs now, letâs all come together in peace. Come buy guns my Lord come buy guns.
The protest of the White House were specifically in response to this tweet. These thugs are dishonoring the memory of George Floyd and I wonât let that happen. Just spoke to Governor. Tim was and told him the military is with him all the way any difficulty and we will assume control, but when the Looting starts the shooting starts, thank you. Kind of an unnerving way to end a threat. Itâs like that scene in Taken. I will look for you. I will find you and I will kill you. Thank you. Stay safe. Everyone top also had some more succinct thoughts tweeting. So terrible where the arrests and long-term jail sentences. We tried to sir, but Susan Collins voted to acquit you.
Now while Trump is in hiding itâs really good to see average citizen stepping up and filling in the void yesterday in Queens police knelt with protesters while in Flint Michigan the sheriff joined the march in Brooklyn protesters protected to Target from looters and Kentucky this group of white women formed a line to protect black protesters from police in Louisville protesters formed a human barrier to protect a cop who got separated from his unit and in Minneapolis.
Group of Mennonites showed up to support the protest Tonightâs Mennonites think Americaâs too racist! and they live in 1840.
Now I make a lot of jokes about Donald Trump because he is a dull and dark corrupting force that is undermining Americaâs moral leadership around the world and sewing hatred and fear among his own citizens. So thatâs fun. and during this covid crisis the president is totally abdicated his responsibility of leading the people to understand the need to do the right thing for themselves and each other and yet the large majority of Americans have done the right thing anyway,
My Hope Is that the American people will do the same thing now Because ultimately they have to for too long those of us with opportunity and privilege have failed and our responsibility to look at the truth squarely and name the system of racial oppression that artificially divides Americans and benefits those already in positions of relative power. Itâs perfectly understandable to not want to do this. Itâs human. No one wants to lose privileges or position. Especially when fear of that loss is magnified and stoked by political leaders for their own supposed Advantage. I say supposed Advantage because if you deny the human rights and dignity of any people you will ultimately destroy the society and civilization that you claim to protect.
58 years ago John Kennedy said those who make peaceful Revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable. Not only is addressing systemic racial and economic Injustice. The right thing to do. It is the safest most conservative most self-protecting most self-serving thing to do. contents under Pressure will eventually explode and thatâs not a threat thatâs a law of nature. So itâs time to ask ourselves as it is always time to ask ourselves. What kind of nation do we want to live in that answer requires moral leadership?
Take it upon yourself to be a leader and set an example of the kind of country you want to live in. Â that might mean going down to a protest or making a donation or having a tense conversation about race,
but youâre not going to get that from the White House. So we need to step up and provide it ourselves. America is now officially byop: Â be your own president.
#the late show#the late show with stephen colbert#stephen colbert#June 1 2020#june 2020#2020#protests#black lives matter#police brutality#police impunity#george floyd#breonna taylor#ahmaud arbery#amy cooper#systemic racism#u.s.a.#living in the u.s.a.#u.s. politics#trump#this dystopian nightmare of a country#dystopian reality#eric garner#michael brown#tamir rice#emmett till
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Taste Of His Universe
Synopsis:Â Whatâs it like to finally understand what goes on in the mind of a boy who reminds you of a galaxy?
Word count: 12.6 k
Genre: A lil bit of angst. Post-road trip. Lot of inner thoughts.Â
Warnings: Minor language, implications of family abuse, negative outlook on self.
Member: Donghyuck, ft. OC, Renjun & Yuqi, other dreamies, and introduction of Jisung and Yuri! New faces haha
To Read Take Me To Outer Space, click here.
Authorâs Note: This special work is an unofficial sequel. Tmtos is its own standalone work, and can be perceived as such. This work isnât necessary and doesnât offer a different ending, per se. Itâs just an opportunity to understand the complexity of Donghyuck a little more. This is a special thank you to all those who have followed me this past year! Back when I wrote this last year, I didnât imagine the amount of love I would get for it. Like I say so often, Take Me To Outer Space is incredibly important to me. Iâm grateful so many of you love it as well. Without further ado, please enjoy getting a taste of Donghyuckâs mind. -Angelo
For as long as he could remember, there were questions rushing through Donghyuckâs mind. Sometimes they came in flashes, usually about what he had to do or that had his attention at the time. Other times, it was more serious and long term. The particularly heavy questions plagued him at night, sure, but other times they would leave his head reeling at the most inconvenient moments. He was a curious guy, always questioning and wondering about the world around him. People usually were the biggest source of his curiosity . He never let it show, found it a little bit childlike to always have wonder eager on his tongue.Â
The burning question of the hour was, Why am I here?
âSeriously. That is the question,â He muttered aloud, unaware of anything but his thoughts. Here he was, the sun beating down on his back and making sweat build at his nape. The longer he stood in front of the quaint, barely noticeable shop, he tried to ignore the droplets racing down his back.Â
Shuffling on his feet, he squinted down the street on his right, then did the same on his left. Searching for an answer, maybe? Perhaps he was stalling. One thing was for sure, he truly didnât like that he always did things on a whim.Â
And thatâs why he was standing outside this flower shop, wondering just what his bright idea was and why he originally thought it was genius.
Yeah, it may have been a good idea last night when he was lying awake in his bed back home. All of his things packed, waiting and ready for his departure. Come morning, he was getting on a plane and flying back to reality, back to school and to all of his friends. Back to burning questions with no answers and hesitation.Â
Life wasnât particularly easy on the boy who knew how to overthink.
âHey, kid. You just gonna stand there or what?â Donghyuck snapped out of his distracted thoughts, feeling his mouth twist in embarrassment. A worker, maybe in his late twenties, was in the middle of putting some flowers on display in front of the shop.Â
âSorry,â Donghyuck uttered, walking past him and into the propped open door.Â
It was definitely a smaller establishment, kind of what he imagined a flower shop to look like. The aroma was overwhelming and everywhere he looked there was a burst of color. Rubbing away the sweat at his temple, Donghyuck felt a frown settled on his face as a headache began to rise.
He knew next to nothing about flowers.
âWhy. Am. I. Here?â He said, beginning on his journey by wandering around aimlessly. There wasnât really anywhere to wander, but he tried to make himself look like he was searching for something specific. In all honesty, the only thing he was looking for was his reason.Â
The sound of the shop door swinging closed- the bell attached to it was obnoxiously loud- grabbed his attention. The worker from earlier trudged in, large box in his arms. The embarrassment from earlier tried to push its way up and onto his cheeks but Donghyuck turned away from the sight.
To distract himself, he read the little display card in front of him over and over. Peonies.
Hm. So thatâs what they look like.Â
âLooking for anything in particular?â
Donghyuck fidgeted in place, glancing over his shoulder at the guy who was now behind the counter. From the brief glance, he wondered if he imagined the subtle amusement hidden in the workerâs features.Â
âNo thanks. Just looking,â He settled on, turning forward once more. Staring down at the peonies, he found the question that was probing at him transforming into, Why am I such an idiot?
âYou looking for a gift for your mom? Friend? Girlfriend?â
Donghyuckâs eyes raised to the ceiling, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. He understood it was the guyâs job to be helpful, but it was starting to get annoying. Nonetheless, he kept his cool.
âAh, well, itâs a bit complicated.â Donghyuck decided to keep it as concise as possible, because even he himself didnât know how to go about handling his wild ideas.
 If he could go back in time, back to his yesterday self whose heart was aching and searching for a solution, he would tell him that flowers werenât the answer.
âI get it,â The workerâs voice was now right behind him. Donghyuck internally sighed as he stepped up beside him. The guy couldnât catch a clue. âItâs an apology youâre looking for.â
Instead of answering, he only gave the guy a polite smile before turning and walking away, his eyes scanning the abundance of flowers surrounding him. He couldnât focus on the situation at hand, not when his mind wasnât even in order and his methods were seriously flawed.
For him to think that flowers were the answer.Â
Suddenly, he felt his heart grow stifled at the realization that once again, going out on a whim failed him. Flowers werenât the answer, no, it was a stupid idea.Â
Why would flowers help the complexity that was he and Y/Nâs relationship?
Rubbing at his face with frustration, he checked his watch. He had only been back for a few hours, and he was already making impulsive decisions. It had been three months since he last saw you, one and a half months since you last spoke.
Boy, did he have another thing coming if he thought flowers were going to salvage the state of your connection.
âFrom the look on your face, it seems thereâs trouble in paradise.â The worker was now leaning against a display right behind him. Donghyuckâs annoyance with himself mixed with the probing flower boy was edging him to snap.Â
Once more, he feigned a smile. âIâm just looking around, man.â
The guy cocked an eyebrow. Donghyuck took a moment to study him, guessing that the worker was someone who didnât know when to stop. Hey, who was he to talk though? He had his own overbearing personality.Â
âThis is my area of expertise. If youâre looking for an apology, sure, flowers can help. But if itâs an extreme offense, I can give you directions to the grocery store. Girls like when you give them their favorite snacks.â
He couldnât help it anymore. The guy was ticking him off. âLook,â His eyes flickered down to his nametag, âHyungwon, I donât know if youâre bad at reading people or you simply donât care, but Iâm not in the greatest mood to be pestered. In fact, Iâm still trying to figure out why I thought it was a brilliant idea to buy a girl flowers when weâre technically not even speaking. So I would like it if you just left me alone.â
Instead of being offended, Hyungwon snickered.Â
Instead of snapping even further, Donghyuck walked away once more.Â
âWhat am I even doing?â He asked himself, looking longingly at the door. The more seconds ticked by, the more he realized being here wasnât the solution. In fact, he was better off going back to his apartment and sorting out the mess of his mind on his own.Â
Flowers wouldnât magically make things better.Â
âGoing back in time would,â Donghyuck sighed, before twisting on his heel and striding toward the shop door.
âSure you donât want to buy a bouquet?â Hyungwon, the worker, hollered. Donghyuck scoffed, the words giving him more of a boost to book it out of there. âIâm sure Iâll see you again!â
âIâm sure you will,â Donghyuck muttered sarcastically, the sound of the door bell announcing his exit.
Back to the merciless heat.
Back to confusion and wondering how to break out of his mind, his endless questions.Â
Most importantly, and unfortunately, back to his thoughts about you.
It was no surprise there. Since the day he met you, you haunted him. Good or bad, it had always been like that. Distance didnât change that, your guysâ issues didnât change that.Â
And for the better part of the summer, all of his burning questions were about you. And right now, as he made his way back to his apartment, the question at the forefront of his mind was an iceberg. Simple on the surface, a lot deeper upon further examination.
Do I still have a place in your heart?
~
âThere he is. I was wondering when youâd show up. I was surprised to see all your stuff here but no sign of you.â Some of the nerves from earlier subsided at the sight of Jenoâs smile.
Donghyuckâs shoulders sagged at the release of tension, a hint of a smile on his own lips as he pushed the front door behind him shut.The two met in an embrace, a blur of excitement and adoration for each other.Â
âSorry, man, I was out⌠running errands.â Donghyuck settled on, taking a moment to observe the small space. The two of them had been lucky to snag an apartment near campus, though they would have to commute to and from. It was rather costly, but with some help from Jenoâs parents, both of them on the hunt for jobs and some scholarships rolled into it, they were making it work.Â
âEmpty handed?â Jeno inquired, his gaze flickering down to his friendâs hands.Â
âLong story,â Donghyuck uttered, only now noticing he was tired. So far, the only piece of furniture in their small living room space was a two-seat sofa. He didnât mind, though, because he was content. Content to be living with someone he valued deeply but would never say aloud.Â
Throwing himself across the sofa, he sighed in relief. It felt good to rest his body and his mind.Â
âI know we donât have much to start off with, but once everything starts kicking into gear I was thinking we can add to this place. Itâs small, sure, but at least we got our own rooms! And I-â
âJeno, donât worry about it.â Donghyuck flipped on his back to look his friend in the eye. He could tell Jeno was fretting about his reaction to the place and he regretted not being here during the summer to help look for their place. A heaviness settled in his heart. He silently vowed heâd make it up to him. With sincerity in his voice, he added, âThis place is perfect.â
Watching the light enter Jenoâs face made Donghyuck so happy. He would never say it aloud.Â
Instead, he merely laid his head back down and closed his eyes, finding it hard to believe that the summer had blown by and they were merely days away from their sophomore year of college.
~
Tap. Tap. Tap.Â
Donghyuck peered above his laptop at Jeno.
Tap. Tap. Tap.Â
Shaking his head, he could feel another headache coming on as he waited for any sign of activity on the other end of his laptop.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
âDude, will you please-â
âI was thinking pizza tonight. How does that sound?â Jenoâs hand remained poised in the air, ready to throw the ball in his hand at the wall again. His question saved Donghyuck from having to hear the ceaseless sound of it hitting it over and over, at least for a moment.
âSounds good. As long as we get sausage on it.â
Jeno made a face. âBleh. Weâll make half of it sausage and half of it good.â
âScrew you,â Donghyuck chuckled, his eyes being pulled back down to his screen. Seeing the familiar bubbles pop up on his messaging app, he sighed with relief. The jerk was finally responding to his texts. Just as his friend responded, Jeno called out to him.
âHuh?â
âDid you hear me? I said I hope you donât mind that Yuqi is coming over. The three of us havenât chilled in forever. And Iâve barely seen her this summer. She spends all her time with Renjun.â
Donghyuck scoffed, typing away at his keyboard. âIs that jealousy I hear? Last time I checked, you had a thing with that girl this summer too. Iâm sure you havenât made any time for Yuqi either.â
âYo, whose side are you on?â
âIâm indifferent.â Just then, he stood up with his laptop in order to head to his room for more privacy. âOf course Iâm fine with her coming over. As if I have any choice in the matter.â
âChances are, sheâs going to chew you out for⌠you know.â
Donghyuck paused in his footsteps, his heart squeezing. Looking over his shoulder at Jeno, he could tell his friend was avoiding looking at him at all costs. Always feigning nonchalance. The two of them were one and the same.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
âShe can try all she wants. She doesnât know the full story anyway.â
âDo any of us?â Jeno only looked at him then, making Donghyuckâs heart drop. He could see the worry barely masked, could see how his hand had paused once more from tossing the ball at the wall. His eyes were mirrors of questions, ones that echoed in Donghyuckâs own mind.
All he could do was take a page out of Jenoâs book. Feign nonchalance.
Donghyuck forced a shrug. âWho knows?âÂ
When he made it to his pretty desolate bedroom, he quietly closed the door. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his head dizzy with the implications of the previous conversation.
The truth of the matter was, even he didnât know the full story. Of course his friends would want to know. After all, everyone was friends with each other. If they didnât hear it from him, they probably heard it from Y/N.
He could only wonder if you were just as confused as he was.
No. You probably hated him. Thatâs the only reasonable idea that comes to mind.
The sound of the video chat ringing startled him out of his thoughts. Blowing out a breath of air, he quickly accepted and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the only thing set up in his room: his bed.
Instead of feeling happiness like he wouldâve thought, or perhaps sadness from having to be departed with his friend until he flew back home, he could only muster annoyance at the guyâs face.
âWhat?â He asked, before adjusting his circular glasses and shifting his own device from the other side.
âJisung, I told you to call me the moment you got back home. How is he? Did anyone see you?â
Jisung rolled his eyes. âRelax, no one saw me. You forget we did this for an entire year. And yes, Rocketâs fine. Happy to see his favorite person.â
Donghyuck remained unamused at the sight of Jisungâs grin.Â
âNot in a good mood, I see. As usual,â Jisung uttered the last part before cracking open a can of soda and sipping at it. He proceeded to say, âHowâs everything out there? You all unpacked?â
He faked a laugh. âDo you really think Iâm that organized? Iâve only been here for less than a day.â
Jisung leaned back in his desk chair, âEh, you never know. Sometimes people surprise you.â
âUnfortunately, Iâm pretty set in my ways,â Donghyuck shook his head, his eyes scanning his bare room. He couldnât begin to explain the conflict in his heart. He was happy to be back here, away from the chaos of his home life. Yet, a part of him still ached for having to leave some things behind. There were only a few pieces of happiness back in his hometown.Â
Jisung and his dog, Rocket, pretty much summed it all up.Â
He had gotten Rocket back in his freshman year of high school. The puppy was what got him through a lot of tough nights, whether it be school or personal life issues. And he had gotten his name from yet another aspect of his life that he cherished deeply. Rocket was the name of the first song he had ever listened to by MAD, his favorite band.Â
Blinking at the sound of Jisungâs voice, he tuned in on his friendâs low voice.
âYou know, I just wish Rocket could stay with me whenever youâre gone. It would make things a whole lot easier.â
âYeah, I do too. But you know how it is,â Thatâs all he said, because if anyone knew how his life was, it was Jisung. In fact, he was probably the only person in the whole world who understood him fully. It was such a shame he wasnât with him.
âWell, one more year. One more year and Iâm outta here just like you. And if you donât take Rocket with you, heâs coming with me.â
âIn your dreams.â Donghyuck genuinely laughed and it felt good. It felt good to be completely comfortable, unafraid of someone judging him. It was hard, because he did have good friends here at school. He had Jeno and Yuqi. And he had⌠you. But no one else knew him like Jisung did. âThank you, Jisung. I⌠I donât know what I would do without you.â
If Jisung recognized the double meaning, he didnât address it. Clicking his tongue and waving a hand dismissively, he said, âNo worries. You know Rocket secretly loves me more. Iâll always have his back⌠and yours too.â
Donghyuck looked away, maybe to collect himself or to think of what to say. He settled with, âAgain, in your dreams.â
âHey, Hyuck! Yuqiâs here!âÂ
âSounds like you got to get back,â Jisung was slightly grinning, as if he had a secret he would never tell. Donghyuck knew that it meant trust, that he was considered a close confidant.Â
âWeâll talk soon.â
âI donât doubt it.â
And as Donghyuck made his way back to the living room, his heart was lighter than a feather.
~
Itâs funny how things kind of fall into place. Life has an odd way of throwing a person a line, to either grab onto for help or to simply ignore.Â
Right now was one of the moments.
Here Donghyuck was, lying wide awake in his bed. Around him was a small and bare bedroom, more comforting than the one back home was and that held most of his childhood. There was mostly silence in the apartment, quiet chatter a distance away coming from Jenoâs room. He had a small lamp plugged in beside the bed and Donghyuck stared blankly at the yellow blanket covering the ceiling.Â
It was too early to be going to sleep.
Thatâs what Donghyuck initially blamed his restlessness on, when really it was because of you.Â
Oh, Y/N. If you could actually look into his mind and see how much he thought about you, you would know he was in love.Â
If he actually opened his mouth and told you whatâs inside of him, maybe you would understand.Â
Thatâs the problem, isnât it? Donghyuck can never quite push himself to open up. Itâs why it took so long for him to kiss you in the back of that car all those months ago, for him to even show a snippet of his feelings for you at the MAD concert.Â
Rubbing at his face roughly, he reached for his phone. With bated breath, he clicked open the contacts list and scrolled to your name.
Y/N. With a golden heart.Â
Emojis couldnât even begin to convey how he felt. How could they, when he himself couldnât communicate properly?
His thumb did a little dance above your name before he allowed the screen to go dark. Putting it back where it was on the side table, the frustration bubbled within him. He aggressively ripped the blankets off of himself before sitting on the edge of the bed. Holding his head in his hands, his heart beat fast as his thoughts picked up speed.
âWhy am I like this?â He choked out, his mind racing and his heart frazzled.
The truth was, he was always afraid of what he felt for you. For as long as he was self-conscious, he knew how much of a wreck he was. He was frustrating, he knew that about himself. He also knew that he was blunt and sometimes didnât know when to stop. Itâs why you didnât like him for so long, why he couldnât help but be unbearable.Â
He never intended to annoy you all those times, he was only nervous.
How couldnât he be nervous when you were the most perfect person he had ever been graced with in his entire life?
Donghyuck had noticed you long before you had noticed him, way at the beginning of the first semester. As luck would have it, he had found out that the two of you had connections, mostly through Renjun and Jeno. You had piqued his interest through your guysâ shared Philosophy class. The class bored him to death, never really grabbed his attention. Not until you spoke.Â
You spoke so eloquently, quiet but confident. He remembered how pleased the professor looked whenever you spoke out on your thoughts. On those days, he used to think to himself, Join the club. Iâm impressed just like you.Â
He didnât see you everyday, but he tried to look presentable on the days you shared that class. Those moments, when he would look over and you would either be dozing off or intensely focused, his mind would go quiet.Â
And Donghyuck couldnât remember the last time someone or something made his mind go radio silent.Â
It was a complete accident starting on your bad side. In reality, he was really trying to impress you the day you first took notice of him. You had just spoken out about your view on something, something that Donghyuck couldnât even remember anymore. All he could recall is how he didnât necessarily agree with your points, and had some counterarguments that could make an interesting discussion.Â
For the first time in that class, he raised his hand.Â
He had meant for his voice to come out reserved and confident, just like yours. Instead, it came out bold and cocky. His demeanor shifted, protecting him from all of the judgmental eyes and portraying him as this laid back and know-it-all guy.Â
His heart had cracked that day when you had looked at him with exasperation. Dejected at first, he didnât even want to show his face in that class anymore. He needed a few pep talks from Jeno, who he had let in on his crush, and even Jisung who he had called the moment he got back to his dorm that day, for him to show up again.
From then on, he couldnât help himself. He took on this persona that was solely for you. It was stupid, he knows it now, but it was the only way you would remember him. Figuring out you would like him for himself took a long time, but as luck would have it there were always little beacons that showed him the way.Â
Like MAD, for instance.Â
Another night that stuck out in his memory was the karaoke night when he pissed you off. It wasnât often that he went out with his friends, but when they did get him to come out he genuinely did have a good time. He had known for a long time how much Jeno and Yuqi loved MAD, because it was one of the things they brought up when they were all getting to know each other.Â
Just like Jisung and Rocket, MAD played a huge part in helping him through hard times. They were his safe haven, a way to leave the world and immerse himself in a band that knew just what to say. There was no judgment, no questions or anger. There was no broken families or overwhelming school experiences when he pulled on his headphones and listened to Jisoo, the voice that rocked his mind to sleep. Sometimes, heâd listen for Daveyâs drums, use it to slow his heartbeat. For him, MAD did the opposite of its name- it made him sane.Â
And you, well, you were the human form of MAD.Â
When you gave him the chance to know your heart, well, it simply felt like he had the universe in his hands.
You were his universe.
And he was too afraid that he was your black hole.
A gentle knock at his bedroom door snapped him out of his contemplations, quickly rubbing his forearm across his eyes. Taking only a moment to collect himself, he croaked out, âYeah?â
Jeno cracked the door open before pushing it all the way. Leaning on the doorframe, his eyes washed over Donghyuck.
âYou okay?â
No. But it was hard to even utter one word. He nodded instead.
Donghyuck could tell Jeno wanted to push him, but maybe the warning look on his face was enough to deter him.Â
âWell, Iâm here to talk if you want,â Jeno walked into the room, stretching his arms. He was quick to change the subject. But it was a subject Donghyuck didnât really like. Turning to look him dead in the eye, Jeno said, âI have an idea. And youâre probably not going to like it.â
~
Jeno was right. He didnât like it.Â
As he trailed behind Jeno and a girl he had only recently been introduced to, he was dreading ever being talked into this bright idea.
âDo you think we need more than one flashlight?â
âYeah. Yuqi said her and Ren have one already. I donât know if the others have one. Just in case, we can get two.â
Donghyuck sighed heavily, making his lack of enthusiasm as apparent as possible. The burning question of the hour was, Why do I always get myself into these situations?
âI shouldnât go.â He said aloud, probably for the fifteenth time since Jeno first told him about it. It seemed like Jeno had no intentions of letting him off the hook.
Without stopping the shopping cart, he gave Donghyuck a glance and replied, âToo bad. You already said yes and itâs going to be an amazing trip. So donât ruin it.â
âHe could always change his mind,â Yuri, the most recent face that had been hanging around, put out there.Â
Donghyuck only frowned hearing Jenoâs cryptic reply to her. âNo, I have a feeling heâs not going to change his mind.â
The truth was, his mouth had agreed before he could work through the turmoil. It was a couple days after Jeno told him his idea, how everyone should go camping before school starts back up. That meant this upcoming weekend, considering classes start next week. And by everyone, he meant an extended group that just so happened to include you.Â
He didnât have to ask if you were going to be there. The answer had been in Jenoâs shifting eyes. And he was practically sick with nerves at the prospect.Â
The truth was, he was never one for camping in general. The ground was rock solid, most of the time it was super cold at night. No one likes bugs and he was definitely not an exception. He tried to look at the bright side but the closer they got to the weekend the more he dreaded it.
Besides all of the negatives, it was going to be the first time he saw you in months. The last time he saw you, it was right before he left for the summer. And things were fine between you, then.Â
It had been almost a year since the concert. Ten months, to be exact. Ten months since the night he had revealed to you a snippet of what he feels for you, and you did the same. And that night, well, had been a symbol for hope. He could vividly remember how your perfume still lingered with him that night when he went to sleep.
The months after that wasnât really what he had envisioned. Likely, it wasnât what you wanted either. Itâs not so easy stepping out of oneâs comfort zone, and Donghyuck being expressive was definitely in the outfield.
You were patient with him. You guys took things slow. Some days, it was especially hard and Donghyuck knew it. He could be so distant and he didnât like that about himself, but he tried to explain to you that it was just who he was. He was moody and brooding, he had a lot about him that was locked away. That could all be seen on the surface.
He just wished he could break into himself, put on display just how much you meant to him. Something told him deep down you knew. You saw it in the way he came running when you were overwhelmed with your schoolwork. You could sense it when he refused to hang up even when his voice was hoarse and slowing down with fatigue.Â
His love was subtle in person, but loud in his mind. The sad part was, his brain was a locked box.
The summer had only severed the growth he had made. Going back home was like resetting and reverting back to the version of himself that liked to retreat. He could only blame himself for the distance and he could only hope there was a way to make it up to you.Â
âApparently, I thought flowers mightâve worked,â Donghyuck hummed as he spotted flowers on display at the front of the grocery store. Shaking his head, he continued following behind the pair on a mission.Â
âYouâre a lot more⌠stormy than I pictured,â Yuri directed back at him. He only gave her an icy stare in return.Â
âDonât take it personal. Heâs like that most of the time,â Jeno said loudly, not at all subtle.
âI donât mind. It brings a bit of spice to the atmosphere.â
Donghyuck glared at the back of her head, wondering who decided she was apart of the friend group out of nowhere. Why didnât he get a say? Who cares if Jeno had a thing with her during the summer, does that give her a pass? If every girl Jeno had a thing with was in their friend group, theyâd have a whole football team.
He shook his head at himself once again, recognizing his unfairness. There was some truth to his thoughts though. He was only gone for a summer and suddenly there was a new face. Guess he didnât really have a choice if everyone else liked her.Â
âOkay. I think thatâs it,â Jeno maneuvered the cart out of the aisle and toward one of the checkout lines. âThat was a success!â
âWe only needed to get a few things,â Yuri pointed out.
Jenoâs face twisted. âYeah, okay, but it was still successful! This weekend is going to be a blast.â
âFor sure.â
Donghyuck knew he was being a buzzkill but he couldnât help it. Was he supposed to magically be cool with seeing you after months of not being in your presence, after over a month of not talking to you? Even though you didnât voice you were angry at him, maybe you were. Maybe you finally hated him for being so closed off.Â
There was no way to prepare for the moment he would see you.
Even when you guys were cool, he never knew how to calm down his heart.
Maybe the flowers were a good idea after all, because it would allow him control over when he would talk to you after being back. If he went camping, then the interaction laid all in the trip.
He hummed in amusement, the MAD road trip flashing in his mind.Â
How familiar.Â
âShit! We forgot to get an extra bag of marshmallows! Iâll go get them,â Yuri said before twisting on her heel and booking it.Â
Both boys watched her departure before Donghyuck said, âItâs like having another Yuqi around. Except I like Yuqi.â
Jeno slugged him in the arm. âLay off, man. Youâre not even giving her a chance. SheâsÂ
actually pretty great.â
âWhy arenât you guys dating then?â
Jeno, always casual, âWeâre better off as friends. It wasnât hard to figure out.â
âItâs that easy,â Donghyuckâs tone was dripping with sarcasm. His words held some truth, because when he first met you he instantly knew heâd never see you as a friend. Itâs not possible.Â
Looking down at his boots, he tried to focus his thoughts. If they kept on trailing back to you, he might just chicken out of going this weekend. No, Jeno was right on that. There was no way he wouldnât go. If it meant you, his heart would always win over his fear.
âHey Hyuck,â Jeno took the moment they had alone. By his tone, Donghyuck knew heÂ
was going to get serious. He made sure his face remained indifferent. âI know whatâs going on. I mean, I know itâs Y/N. We all go through heartbreaks-â
Donghyuck stepped back a bit, shaking his head and shutting him down. âDonât assume shit when you donât know.â He could see that he had struck a nerve in Jeno, but he knew more than anyone how entitled Jeno could act. To everyone else, he was this social butterfly who knew no harm. To the people who knew him a little better, like Yuqi and himself, he wasnât as angelic as perceived.Â
Out of everyone he had ever met, Jeno was one of those who had a problem caringÂ
about how he made others feel.Â
Donghyuck didnât judge him for it. They were close, after all, and he had flaws himself. It didnât mean he wouldnât call him out on his shit.Â
âLook, Iâm not trying to assume. But from how youâve been acting and what Y/Nâs said...â
That didnât sit well with Donghyuck at all. He went into defensive mode almost instantaneously. âWhat do you mean, what Y/N has said? Since when do you talk to her like that?â
Jeno shrugged, pushing the cart ahead. This was the shit that ticked Donghyuck off. And it drove him crazy that these particular qualities only came out when hardly no one was around. âWe talked a little more these past couple of weeks. She seems pretty torn up.â
Donghyuck gritted his teeth, his fists clenching without his control. Why did Jeno sound so⌠entitled? Why was he acting like he knew you?
Something flashed in his mind then, catching him off guard.
It was a memory from the MAD trip. It was when he regretted how he acted with you, how harsh he had been and had called you a loser. It was something he always regretted. What he was thinking about led up to that.Â
Unbeknownst to you, he had overheard you and Renjun talking in the burger place on the road about how you liked Jeno. It had wrenched his insides, tearing him up in a way he had never felt before. Sure, he had felt other forms of devastation. There was nothing quite like finding out you had a thing for his friend, the friend that everyone seemed to love.Â
Of course, it had been cleared up right away.Â
That memory popped into his head right now as he looked Jenoâs nonchalance in the face and it boiled his blood.
âI donât know what youâre playing at, but I suggest you cut it out because youâre really starting to-â
âI got them!â Yuriâs arrival snapped them out of their tense conversation. Her eyes widened at the sight of Donghyuckâs blatant irritation. Jeno grabbed the bag out of her hand and put on a smile.
âTook long enough.â
Yuri shuffled past him, and Donghyuck could feel her eyes on him. He just needed a moment, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried to calm down his breathing.Â
He was acting crazy.Â
Jeno hadnât said anything wrong. Sure, he was pushing his buttons a little bit but he wasnât implying anything. Donghyuck was simply on edge from everything, especially anything regarding you.
To you, he seemed like a confident guy, once a pest but now someone who you adored.
To himself, well, he was a mess. Inside, he was a flurry of questions, feelings and worries.
How could he even begin to describe that to you?
And if he did, would you turn him away?
When they reached the car, he silently helped put all of their belongings in the trunk. And before Jeno could open the driver door, Donghyuck pulled him back by his shirt.
âSorry about that back there. Iâm just⌠on edge. I,â Donghyuck paused and sighed, âI really miss her.â
Jenoâs face softened, bringing his hand up to rest on his shoulder. âShe misses you too, man. Just talk to her this weekend. I think youâre just too in your head about it.â
The world blew past him through the car window, similar to his racing thoughts. As he laid his head back, he seized onto one question that kept playing in his mind. Why do I ruin everything?
~
It was the night before the trip, and it was getting harder for Donghyuck to get a rein on his emotions. He was drowning, and he was drowning fast. How could he mentally prepare himself to face you, when it had been so long since you last spoke?
His body fell back on his bed, his eyes tracing the edges of the golden light blanketing the ceiling. It was a facade, the appearance of this room. Everyday, he added a little something. It wasnât complete, not until he would start working and be able to afford more. But the lamplight.
The stupid lamp that painted the room in gold. It was a fraud,
The only gold in his life was you.Â
And it had been so long since you guys last spoke, you may have forgotten about him.
Tugging at his hair, he grimaced with distress. Since he came back, he tried so hard to avoid thinking about the last time you spoke, but it was haunting now. Trying to fight it, he paced his room and looked for anything to distract him. It was late, and Jeno was already asleep.Â
He tried playing one of his playlists. It was a big mistake. After a few songs, Galaxy Eyes played through his computer speakers. His heart sunk. He moved to his computer, his fingers hovering over the skip button. Frozen in time, the piano tunes wrapping around his heart and his throat. Your eyes popped into his mind, shining and smiling just for him. Moving his finger over a few buttons down, he turned up the volume.Â
Allowing his body to fall back on his bed, he stared back at that dreaded golden light. It wasnât his focus anymore, not when your song was floating all around him. His eyes fluttered closed and just this once⌠he allowed in the memory.
///
It was one of those days.Â
It wasnât one based on sheer luck, like smudging oneâs clean shoes or breaking oneâs headphones.Â
It was one of those days one tries to avoid so badly but itâs inevitable. No matter what he did or what he said, it couldnât be avoided. Because itâs not he who causes this kind of day.Â
Slamming his bedroom door, he could hear the scream from downstairs but he ignored it, tuning it out. His chest was heaving and his eyes were flooded, but he ignored it all. Making a beeline to the corner of his room, he snatched his backpack and shoved in some articles of clothing.Â
He was angry at himself for crying, despised it when he did. He continued to fill his bag to the brim, swiping his arm across his eyes before he made his way to his bedroom door once more.
Pausing for a moment, his eyes stared at the wood through his hazy vision. Inhaling, exhaling, he braced himself. Taking a moment to think, he turned and went to the end table beside his bed. Rummaging through the drawer, he found his headphones and felt a sense of relief flooding his veins.Â
Plugging them in, one of MADâs older albums began playing in his ears, washing over him like a bath.Â
Without any hesitation, he strode out of his room. Trying to focus on the lyrics, he could still hear the screaming over it. As he dashed down the stairs, he blasted the music as loud as it could go and walked past the living room without looking.Â
He could hear the yelling directed at him for a moment but he ignored it.Â
He couldnât be in this place, not tonight.Â
He made it to the backyard, closing the door behind him. Rocket rushed to him happily, unaware. Donghyuck kneeled down, managing a laugh when Rocket licked at his already damp cheeks.Â
âLetâs go, Rock. Weâre going to go to Jisungâs.â He didnât waste any second clipping his leash on before heading out the side gate.Â
The farther he walked, the lighter his chest felt.Â
It was still too hot for it to be late evening. Donghyuck hoped his face looked damp with sweat instead. Looking down at Rocket, who hadnât stopped wagging his tail, made his heart settle.Â
On his way to Jisungâs, he called him to let him know he was coming. Jisung knew the drill and didnât question him, only told him heâd get the guest room ready. After he hung up, thatâs all he had intended to do. Call only Jisung. But his eyes found your name in his recent calls list, and he found himself clicking on it.Â
The sad thing was, this shit always happened.Â
He knew this was what he was coming back to, for the summer. Donghyuck simply had ridiculous hope that it wouldnât be.
It didnât take long, not at all, for things to go to shit.Â
Being back here was draining, and the longer he was back the more he couldnât remember how much better life was back at school. Back with you.
âHyuck! I was just thinking about you!â
Donghyuck remained silent, his gaze hard and focused on the distance. The tears were relentless, and it made him angry that he was so affected. Still, he made sure his voice was stable before talking.Â
âHey.â
Even though he was good at hiding his tears, you sensed something was wrong. âWhatâs wrong?â
Donghyuck paused in his trek, stood frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. Rocket circled him, nuzzling his other limp hand. He closed his eyes, his heart twisting in his chest.
âIâŚâ With one word, his voice broke so he made sure it was stable once more before continuing, âI need some time.â
âSome time? What do you mean?â
Ah, how your voice was the sound of his favorite song. It worked wonders, was his tether to a different life. But the tether was stretched taut, far into the future until he reunited with you. It was hard to see that, when he was surrounded by darkness.
âI have⌠things. I donât want you to be apart of it. So I think,â He swallowed, so heavily that it hurt, âI just think itâll be better if I disconnect for a while.â
There was silence on your end for what felt like hours. Donghyuckâs heart was racing so fast, it was running its own marathon. He had a headache, and he ignored that it was because he was holding back his tears as much as he could. His temple was throbbing with pain and his vision, blurry. The grip he had on his phone hurt, but he needed to hold on for you.Â
You didnât deserve this.
What could he do, though? He needed to prevent you, his universe, from meeting him, a black hole.Â
âHyuck....â
Clearing his throat, he said, âI canât say, Y/N. I just⌠itâs better off if Iâm away for a while.â
He didnât know what to expect. Maybe yelling, or crying. Maybe for you to cuss him out.Â
âOkay.â
Donghyuck squeezed his eyes closed. He was deathly silent for a moment, the world going quiet. He wanted to change his mind, or to tell you why itâs hard for him to communicate his feelings. But black holes ruin galaxies.Â
âIâm sorry,â He whispered.Â
When he ended the call, the world swallowed him whole and the volume was unrelenting.Â
He could only kneel down, cover his head on that lonely sidewalk and hope it quieted on its own.
///
His eyes fluttered open, his heart aching.Â
It had been months and he could still clearly hear your voice in his ear.Â
You mustâve hated him now.Â
Slowly, he moved his phone up to his face and checked the time. It was late, but not too late. It meant Jisung would still be awake.Â
Plugging his headphones into his computer, he turned off his music and called Jisung.Â
It took a few rings, but Jisung picked up. Donghyuckâs face softened at the sight of his friend, seeing his own reflection in his glasses.
âIf youâre calling to nag me about Rocket. Donât worry, dude. I dropped by to check on him earlier.â
âI wasnât, but thank you.â
âNo problem. Iâm his best friend. Gotta look out for each other,â Donghyuck heard a meow from his end and Jisung looked off to the side. He bent down, and when he straightened out his cat was wrapped in his arms, âAw, Daisy, you know I was just kidding. Youâre my best friend.â
Donghyuck couldnât control the smile on his lips, shaking his head. âI was just calling to check up on you.â
Jisung pressed a kiss into Daisyâs head before depositing her back off camera. Pushing his glasses back up his nose, he said, âSame old B.S. Iâm not meant for high school. If success was based on maturity, I would be a billionaire by now.â
 âThereâs high school billionaires, you know.â
Jisung stared off in thought before shrugging. âThe worldâs not ready for me yet.â
âYou have a reply for everything, donât you?â
âItâs apart of my charm.â
âIn your dreams.â
Jisung remained unbothered, as he always was. It was a trait Donghyuck highly admired about him. The world needs more people like Jisung.Â
âSo, whatâs on your mind?â
Donghyuck looked up at him, as if caught in the act. âWhat-â
âCome on, Hyuck. I know you very well. You only call to check up on me when you need to ask for my advice.â
Donghyuck had the decency to look bashful. âSorry.â
Jisung blinked. âDonât apologize. Itâs apart of my responsibility. As your best friend, I have to read you well. Otherwise what am I here for?â
âTo claim your Rocketâs best friend and fail high school chemistry.â
Jisung pointed at him. âHey. I donât judge you for your bad grades, donât judge me for mine.â
Donghyuck raised his hands in peace. âFair enough.â
His friend cracked a smile before reverting back to his usual serious nature. Well, thatâs only how Jisung appeared. He had his own humor, his own way of portraying his happiness. Perhaps thatâs how Donghyuck showed he was his best friend. After all, no one ever understood when he was joking like he did. Donghyuck knew him down to the quirk of his lips.
Taking a deep breath, he tried sorting his thoughts out before fully submerging.
âI, uh, Iâm going camping with the group tomorrow. And by group, it includes Yuqiâs boyfriend, Renjun. Jaemin, Dahyun, andâŚâ He blew a breath out of his lips. His eyes trailed up to Jisung, who patiently waited. A smile flickered on his mouth at the sight of Daisy climbing on him, stretching her body onto his shoulder.
âAnd Y/N?â
Donghyuck nodded. âAnd forgive me, but Iâm freaking out.â
Jisung tilted his head, looking lost in thought. âBreak it down for me.â
Once more, Donghyuck nodded as he breathed in to relax. This was their process, and it helped him more than he could express with words. If anyone knew that, though, Jisung did.
And so he did. It felt like the longer he talked, the more of the weight on his chest dissipated. He didnât hold back, telling Jisung his concerns. He told him how afraid he was, how maybe you donât even want to see him. He had been radio silent for so long, offering no explanation.Â
You didnât deserve that, and frankly, you didnât deserve what he was giving you. How much time had passed, what, ten months? Since then, you guys hadnât even truly broke down the meaning of the relationship. But you had never complained, always been happy whenever you were with him.
Regardless of that, he felt like he wasnât giving you what he deserved. And it made him even more nervous to face you, because he didnât feel good enough.
Jisung stayed quiet for a while after he finished, looking as if he were processing what was said. Donghyuck waited, feeling an immense amount of relief. He didnât feel as frantic anymore, or as afraid. Jisung would tell him what he needed to hear.Â
He couldnât say it aloud, but regardless of his age, Jisung was indeed one of the wisest people heâd ever known. He was a gem and he was blessed to be his best friend.Â
Jisung subconsciously cuddled Daisy close to him, scratching beneath her chin. The sight made Donghyuckâs heart ache, missing Rocket.Â
Soon, Jisung nodded his head as if he finally collected his thoughts. Adjusting his glasses once more, he dove in with a steady voice.Â
âYour feelings are valid. I understand why you would be afraid of facing her. Youâve gone a long time without talking to her, and itâs true that you donât know how sheâs viewing the situation. But youâre being way too hard on yourself. First of all, you didnât go M.I.A for no reason. You had your own issues to deal with and you chose to take a step back from everything. You donât owe anyone that.
âYes, perhaps you could have given her more of an explanation. But you were in no way being malicious. Donât ever forget that. You did what was best for you. If Y/N is the person you describe, sheâll understand that. Donât give up before youâve even tried. All you have to do is talk to her. And you donât even have to tell her everything, just enough to show that youâre being sincere. Even then, Iâll think sheâll see it.â
Like magic, Jisung always knew what to say to comfort him. What he said truly helped him, walked him out into the light. He always knew what to say to get him to snap out of it.Â
Sometimes, a person just needs someone to grab their hand to remind them theyâre not alone.Â
Donghyuck whispered, âThank you.â
Jisung hummed, looking down at Daisy as he said, âItâs what best friends are for.â
~
Donghyuck stirred awake as the car fought against a road that fought back. Blinking away the drowsiness, he yawned silently, stretching out his back. Looking to the front seats, Jeno kept his hands firmly on the wheel in order to combat the rough road. Yuri, who was asleep the last time he checked, was now fully awake and bobbing her head to the radio.Â
He turned his head to scope out his surroundings. It was vastly different from the city they lived in, and they were only about two hours North. It was so green, all around and everywhere he looked. It was refreshing to be surrounded by a sight in which youâre not familiar.Â
It was peaceful, what he needed.Â
The green forestry was exactly what he needed to try to remain calm.Â
Rolling down his window, he rested his head back on the seat. The smell was also different. It smelled of pine and Christmas. He embraced it, thrived on it. It was what he needed to distract him from the impending nerves that would threaten to take him over.Â
A memory struck him then, a memory of him at another time in another backseat. One where he was not alone, but accompanied by you. One of the most memorable nights of his life.
His eyes slid closed as his brain replayed the memory reel. He remembered how his heart beat in his ears, how his body was on end. How, with bated breath, you moved closer to him. He didnât know where he found the courage to tip your head toward him, to feel your soft lips atop his. The moment your lips caressed his, he knew he was a complete goner. He was lost at sea, never to be found for the rest of his life.Â
You were his sea, his galaxy, his universe.Â
He would do whatever it took to kiss you for the rest of his life, to make you smile.
And he may have done a horrible job this summer, but he vowed to learn from it.Â
Because a universe deserves to be admired. In the most utmost and proper way.
âWeâre here.â
One car door slam, then two. Donghyuck was barely confident enough to open his own door. He continued to sit there, taking in the unsettling silence all around him. Very different from the city. A person doesnât realize how loud the city can be until youâre gone.Â
He heard the chatter, all of the voices mixing and some who were louder, like Renjun, echoing through the forest.Â
The silence helped him, surprisingly. He was afraid his nerves would get the best of him and heâd hijack Jenoâs car back to his apartment. But no. His mind was still. Sure, his heart was a little frenzied. But something in him was quieter, parallel to the woods that were watching over them.
Straining his eyes through the windshield, he could see Renjunâs car parked up ahead. Jaemin and Dahyun had already started setting up the tents, Jeno quick to join him. Renjun was talking to Yuri, and Yuqiâs holler signalled him to open the trunk.Â
Then there was you.Â
His heart jumped at your appearance from the front of the car. Was his heart racing or slowing down? Donghyuck didnât really understand how long three months was to not be in your presence, not until now. His heart was shooting stars while bursting into flames. Hugging the headrest of the driver's seat, he couldnât help but watch you for a moment.
Just like that, everything in him went completely silent.Â
You were wearing something new, something he had never seen you wear before. Your eyes were shining, and he figured it was because of your surroundings. You had once told him how much you liked experiencing new things. From what Jeno had been saying earlier, both you and Yuqi had never camped before.
âHey! Whereâs Hyuck?â Yuqi called to Jeno.Â
At the sound of his name, Donghyuck snapped out of his reverie. Tugging his cap as low as it could go, he stepped out of the car. Slamming the car door caused everyoneâs chatter to subside.Â
He wasnât sure if he was meant to hear her, but he heard Yuri utter, âGrumpyâs awake.â
Ignoring her, he walked up to the small group that was congregating. It took everything in his power to not look at you.Â
Dapping Renjun up, he pulled on the most believable smile.
âItâs been way too long, Ren. How ya holding up? Not tired of Yuqi yet?â
âWatch it,â She growled, pausing in her task of unloading the trunk.
Renjun only beamed. âI could never be tired of her.â
Donghyuck gripped his shoulder and whispered playfully, âGive it time.â
âAye Hyuck! Come help us set this tent up,â Jaemin called Hyuck as he acknowledged him with a head nod, âRen, you too! What do you think youâre doing, standing around and doing jack shit?â
Ren spluttered before saying, âIâm not doing nothing! Iâm helping the girls-â
âItâs okay. I got it,â Dahyun offered, shooting him a sympathetic look, âGet the ice chests out.â
âYeah, actually, Renjun couldnât assemble anything to save his life,â Jaemin poked fun, diving into a story about how Renjun nearly killed him by assembling his bed stand poorly.Â
Donghyuck stepped toward the tent before he paused in his steps. Slowly, too slowly, he turned his head.Â
He met your gaze head on.
His heart jumped, but you would never be able to tell. The love he had for you encased his body, making him as light as a cloud as he looked into those stunning eyes.Â
But you would never know.Â
For him, he could only show you his love through actions. It was a whole other story for him to say it, and over the years he learned to accept that part about himself. But now, as he looked at how beautiful you were with the Sun beaming down on you⌠he just wanted to shout it out loud and let the forest carry his voice.
I love this girl.
Instead, he looked at you beneath the shadow of his cap. You probably only saw the slight tug downward on his lips. And then he was on his way, feeling your eyes on him as he headed toward the rest of the group.Â
~
âDidnât he say weâd be at the lake by now?â Yuqi heaved, stopping dead in her tracks.Â
The Sun was ruthless, beating down on them from up above. It had to have been half an hour since they began their trek from their campout, trying to find the lake that was supposed to be nearby.
âStop complaining. Weâre almost there,â Jeno said, leading the pack and sounding completely unaffected.
âNo, dude, sheâs right. You said that like ten minutes ago,â Jaemin pointed out.
Jenoâs face screamed agitation, narrowed eyes and pursed lips.Â
âLook, did I come camping with my friends or a bunch of crybabies?â
Donghyuck shook his head, muttering, âJackass,â Before hollering, âAnd did we come with our friend or a camp counselor?â
For whatever reason, he sensed your laugh more than heard it. His eyes snapped to the back of your head, your back shaking with a silent laugh. He had made sure to hang back enough for your sake, always keeping an eye on you as you trekked beside Yuri and Jaemin.Â
Renjun was behind him to be by Yuqi. Dahyun was the closest to Jeno.
Under different circumstances, this experience couldâve been a nice memory of the group.
It was too hot and uncomfortable to even begin to cherish it.
âYou know what? Why donât I go ahead without you guys and then come back when I find it?â Jeno said, trying to sound as nice as possible.
âNo, thatâs stupid,â Yuqi voiced.
Her response only made the guy frown. âThen stop whining. Before I leave your asses here.â
âDamn. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.â
âWhat?â He called back, but she and Renjun giggled together like schoolgirls.
Donghyuck merely rolled his eyes.Â
âYou guys hear that?â You called, your voice sounding innocent and excited. It made him smile. âItâs water!â
Just like that, you took off. Yuri followed after you, and Donghyuck couldnât help but want to be near you. So he rushed to keep up.Â
You were right, of course.
Right up ahead was a secluded, beautiful lake. It was gorgeous, how the Sun acted as a spotlight atop its surface. No one hesitated to ditch their gear on the lakeside before heading straight for the water.
Jeno dove in, followed by Yuri cannonballing nearby. You dipped your toe in, yelling at the temperature. Unfortunately, you were unaware of Jaemin behind you as he jumped in, taking you with him.
Donghyuck noticed he was smiling while he watched you and fixed his face, setting his backpack down before sitting up against it.
âYouâre not getting in?â Yuri asked him.Â
Without looking at her, he said, âNope.â âMe either. Iâm too hungry to even swim,â Dahyun sighed, spreading out near him.
âSuit yourself,â Yuri said before taking off and running clumsily into the water.Â
âIs she always like that?â Donghyuck muttered, still grouchy towards the newcomer.
âTrust me, she gets⌠better the longer youâre around her,â Dahyun said.
Donghyuck could only shake his head. For a while, he could only watch you. It was crazy, how impossible it was to look away from you. He watched as you and Jaemin got into a splash fight, you managing to dunk his head in the water before he grabbed you and tossed you away from him. His eyes stayed on you as you floated on your back, your eyes squeezed shut.Â
It was funny.Â
Here he was, surrounded by beautiful scenery.Â
All he could look at was you.
âWhy donât you just go talk to her?â
No one was more surprised that Dahyun was telling him that than him. After all, she was your friend. He almost expected to be chewed out, or told to stay away from you.Â
âI-uh-what?â
âYou guys both seem like you miss each other. I donât know the details, I just know she misses you a lot and looked forward to you coming back.â
âWhat?â He said, unable to hide his confusion. Was she talking about you? The girl he so abruptly told he was going off the grid? The girl who mustâve hated him?
Dahyun had her shades on, so he couldnât observe her eyes. But her voice was as sincere as it could get.Â
âYup. You know this, Hyuck. Sheâs crazy about you. Just like you are about her.â
If possible, his heart grew as nervous as it did before, this time for an entirely different reason. This time, when he turned and watched you splash around, all smiles, one question struck his mind.
You donât hate me?
~
As the night grew closer, the air cooled down and everyone cozied up by the fire Jeno started in the pre-made fire pit. Luckily, some of them had thought to bring lawn chairs, so there were seats for some. For the people remaining, Donghyuck included, they found a sturdy piece of tree trunk to carry toward the fire in order to sit.Â
â...And the father said, âWe donât have a clown statueâ...â Renjun whispered the last part, the light from the fire casting an eerie glow along his face. Yuqi was visibly shaken, shuffling closer to him as subtly as she could. On the other side of the fire, Donghyuck watched you as you shook your head in amusement. So both of you were on the same page. None of the scary stories got under your skin.
Your eyes flickered to him, but instead of looking away Donghyuck cracked a smile. You returned it, your eyes shy before dancing away. It nearly made his heart give out as he straightened on the log, Jeno poking at the fire before taking a seat beside you.Â
He listened in when Jeno quietly said, âWe need more wood.â Clicking on a flashlight, he beamed it in your face and laughed at your outburst. âWant to come with?â
Donghyuck bit back the jealousy he felt watching you and Jeno walk away together, not far by any means but feeling the familiar green sneak up on him whenever any situation involved the two of you.
âStaring at them makes it obvious, you know.â
He was surprised when he turned to find Yuri watching him. Her voice was soft and genuine. Instead of feeling his usual annoyance with her, he merely gave her a questioning look. Her gaze turned to look at where he had been previously staring.
âTrust me, I get it. But itâs better to not make it obvious.â
Suddenly, it dawned on him. Watching Yuriâs longing stare at Jeno, how she quickly redirected her attention. He wondered if he looked like that too.Â
His eyes found Jeno when he returned, you in tow. The pair of you were talking excitedly, Jeno laughing through his response. For whatever reason, Donghyuck looked at him with a new set of eyes.
This was a good friend of his, yes. But there were sides of him he had yet to know and recognize, sides to him that he couldnât possibly understand. Maybe Jeno didnât know how Yuri felt about him. But maybe he did, and just didnât care.
It wasnât his place to figure out.
And so, as the night continued on, Donghyuck did what he always did. He simply let himself blend in with the background and observe what was going on. It seemed like Dahyun and Yuri were close, the two of them huddled close before calling it a night and heading to one of the tents.Â
Yuqi and Renjun were off in their own little world, before Jeno trudged over and started up a conversation. Jaemin was nodding off in the seat next to you, so you shook his arm gently and whispered something to him, which made him stand and head to the second tent, the one he, Donghyuck and Jeno would be sharing.Â
And even though the two of you werenât the only ones awake, the atmosphere shifted.
Suddenly, it was you, Donghyuck, and the woods.
He didnât hide it anymore, his eyes on you. His attention peered over the fire, the warmth emanating just enough to keep him warm. He didnât know if it was intentional, but his hoodie was hanging off of your body, his favorite red hoodie he had given you a few months back.
It rested on you like a blanket, making you look soft and adorable. Your eyes were trained on the bonfire, your hands held up and outstretched to warm them up. You looked at peace, no signs of distress or unhappiness sketched in your features.
It made him happy to see you happy.
Kind of nice, how only a look at you silenced his mind.Â
Just then, you looked straight at him, likely aware he had been looking the entire time. It made his heart jump, waiting for your reaction. You offered him a line, showcasing that sweet smile of yours.
It made him dizzy.Â
With Dahyunâs encouragement from earlier ringing in his ears, he stood to his feet. To try and calm down his nerves, he listened to the crunch of leaves beneath his boots. Brushing off his jacket, he pulled his hood on and tried to keep his hands busy. Anything to keep his cool.
He reached you too soon, not enough time to figure out what to say.Â
It was like you knew that, though, looking up at him with what he could only perceive as happiness.Â
âHey,â You said softly, offering him the sweetest smile he had ever seen. It hurt his heart in the most beautiful way. And he knew it would haunt him for the rest of his life. It was a haunting he would welcome with open arms.Â
The bonfire glow had nothing on you. It was the spotlight on the main act. You were the sky he admired every single night.Â
He didnât realize he was holding his breath, shuffling his feet before grabbing the chair Jaemin had previously been sitting in and pulling it slightly closer. He kept some distance, though, still not quite sure what you were feeling.
âHey,â He said, sounding a little too breathless. He avoided looking at you, bending over to rest his elbows on his thighs. Looking away, his thoughts began screaming again, questions blurring all together. Trying to get a hold on anything, he stared at the bonfire, chaotic but controlled. Thatâs what heâd like to be.
Chaotic but controlled.
âYou dyed it back.â
âHuh?â The fire of his brain sizzled out at the sound of your voice.
âYour hair,â You reached over and picked up a strand of his hair, oh so gently. Your touch stilled his heart, because it was so timid he could barely feel it. It was more your closeness he could feel. He was soaking in it. âYou were so bent on keeping it orange.â
Donghyuck grimaced, failing to notice you pulling your chair closer as he rubbed at his face. âYeah, well, I thought it was time to go natural again.â
He side-eyed you, his heart picking up at the sight of you holding your chin in your hand. You were ethereal, angelic. He didnât think heâd ever get used to that.Â
âItâs okay. I like it. Youâre handsome either way.â
His mouth opened slightly at your words. It had been months since the two of you entertained these feelings between the two of you. Yet, he could never get used to your praise.
Swallowing thickly, his eyes danced back to yours. You looked a little smug at his reaction, and he would never tell you how seductive you looked.Â
Did you know the effect you had on him?
Probably not.Â
âTruth is, I kept it orange all that time for you.â
This time, it was you who were surprised. âWhat? Why?â
âYou once told me I stole hearts when my hair was that color. So I kept dyeing it.â Believe it or not, it was kind of hard for him to even tell you that. But he did. Because you deserve way more than he gave you the last time you spoke. For whatever reason, you werenât telling him to piss off.Â
You poked his cheek, feeling his cheek grow warm at the contact. âYou told me it was because it reminded you of MAD.â
âThat was a cover up,â A laugh escaped his lips, âWell, itâs because of MAD a little bit.â
âIâll take that.â The two of you stayed quiet for a while, observing the woods around you. It was pretty much pitch black past the campsite, but Donghyuck welcomed it. There was something serene about where they were at now, not eerie anymore like he originally thought. He had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with you.
The feeling of your hand on his forearm spread across the expanse of his body.Â
You didnât know that. Whenever you touched him, he felt it from head to toe.Â
To you, you likely only saw a collected facial expression as he stared at you. What would you do if you knew how insane you made him feel?
âIâm so happy youâre back. I missed you.â
âYou did?â
âOf course I did,â It was your turn to look away, but he was hanging onto your words. Subconsciously, he moved closer to you, his face nearly inches away from yours. Your voice wavered, the worry in it making his heart ache. âI was worried about you. But youâre strong.â
Is he strong? Is that how you saw him?
For a moment, he was suspended in midair. What he did next, he knew he needed to do. If you threw a line, it was his turn. You deserved so much from him and he wanted to give it to you.
So, he rested his hand above yours. Your eyes widened, looking back at him. He tried to keep his face open, his icy fingers wrapping around your warm ones. âIâm sorry. For worrying you, and for taking so long. But⌠Iâm back. Iâm not going anywhere andâŚâ He shook his head, frustrated with himself. Just say something, explain to her.
The burning question of the hour: Why am I such an asshole?
Before he fully submerged in his head, he jerked at the sensation of your hand cupping his cheek. Opening his eyes- he hadnât realized theyâd closed- he was staring into your eyes. A galaxy looked back at him.Â
âHyuck, I understand. I admit, it was confusing and it was hard to not reach out. But I wanted to respect your wishes. We all have our issues, and you wanted to spend some time away. I donât hold that against you. Youâre here and you donât have to worry about me. Are you okay?â
He hoped the bonfire didnât give away his glossy eyes. âI am now.â
You beamed like his own personal lighthouse. Intertwining your fingers, you raised his hand to your mouth and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it. He could only be amazed by you.Â
Here he was, concocting all these ideas about how you were going to react poorly, how you were probably done with him and his tendency to be difficult. He didnât even consider the possibility that you would be understanding.
How foolish of him, considering you were compassionate since the day you gave him a chance.Â
Donghyuck couldnât control his own happiness on his mouth, flipping your hand to give you his own kiss.Â
For the most part, his mind was quiet.Â
There was one question in its depths.
How did I get so lucky?
~
It was a beautiful day, one that would echo in the crevices of their minds long after their departure. Nothing but the Earth surrounded them, forestry and sounds of distant birds chattering among themselves. That, and a group of joyous friends splashing around were the only sounds that could be heard.Â
Among those friends were Renjun and Yuqi, a passionate couple that found they complemented each otherâs fierce personalities. A boy who hardly gave his heart away, but when he did it was well-earned.
There were Jaemin and Dahyun, in the middle of a splash fight. Loyal friends, who may not always be near but would always linger in a friendâs heart. Whether it be late night karaoke or on days like this one.Â
Yuri was a new addition to the group, loud and proud. Her vibrant voice overtook much of the dayâs activities, and her tendency to attract attention was unintentional. Given a chance, she grows on you. She could even make Donghyuck laugh when she cannon-balled near him, completely soaking him.
There was Jeno, a lone wolf, who pretended he was fine when he was alone. Maybe, if he tested himself, he could survive. Why would he want to, though, when he had incredible companions by his side? Upon first glance, heâs a boy that makes you question ever laying your eyes on beauty. Heâs an innocent crush, a last stab at unblemished youth. When given the chance, heâll become a good friend.
Donghyuck and Y/N.Â
In a solitary and intimate wood, they found their way back to each other. Truth be told, they never really left. Y/N, headstrong and sentimental, could only wrap her arms around the boyâs neck as he threatened to dunk her in the water. He didnât know that she was already fully submerged in the sea, submerged in it every time she looks in his eyes.Â
Ignoring his threats of a water fight, she tugged him closer by the neck and pressed her lips on his, reminding him that she will not let go.Â
That left Donghyuck, the boy whose heart raced miles a minute while his mind travelled at the speed of light. He was a cacophony of complexity, someone endless and if intrigued by the wrong person, considered frustrating.Â
Not to you, of course.
When he looked at you, he could find simplicity.Â
He never knew it was that easy, to find something he never really thought existed.Â
Pulling you close in that lake water, staring into your galaxy eyes and soaking you in, no questions rung in his mind.Â
All of them had been answered for that brief and closed off moment.Â
If he had you, thatâs all he needed.Â
As he pressed a kiss to your nose, looking at you with all the fondness in the world, there was one statement at the forefront of his mind.
Iâm lucky to have you as my universe.
#angelo works#taste of his universe#tohu#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct angst#nct dream scenarios#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#kpop scenarios#kpop fluff#kpop angst#lee donghyuck scenarios#lee donghyuck angst#lee donghyuck fluff#donghyuck scenarios#donghyuck fluff#donghyuck angst#haechan scenarios#haechan fluff#haechan angst#renjun scenarios#jeno scenarios#jaemin scenarios#angelo writing#take me to outer space#tmtos
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â the world showed no compassion to me. â (insert eyes emoji here)
INSERT EYES EMOJI BACK
(also special shoutout to @holyja for bringing me to OT4 hell, Iâm so glad Iâm here adsfjk;rsilghsigjl)
Serellaâs disappearance from the very star itself had been such a sudden thing, an unexpected thing that even hours after Tataru had given the news, it had left those closest to her reeling. As Tataru told it, Serella had had notified Hyana that she made for the Syrcus Trench in search of clues for what ailed the slumbering Scions, then in the span of moments after she had begun that search in earnest, she had disappeared in a flash of light.
âShe said a voice called to her. It was hard to hear her as she was fading, thoughâŚâ Tataru had said in a voice warbling with tears. After a long moment, she had handed Hyana a stack of sealed envelopes, tied together with a purple ribbon. âShe left these in her room. I think...I donât know what she wanted to do with them, but theyâre all addressed to you.â
Even in the time it had taken her to drift from the Rising Stones to the Firmament, to home, Hyana still didnât know what to make of the stack of letters that weighed as a stone in her hands.
That Vardr and Danuja didnât immediately pounce on her the moment she got home meant someone else was here, too, occupying themâ and when she wandered up to the bedroom and saw Aymeric and Estinien sat on their oversized bed with letters of their own, she knew why.
âTataru sent them to all of us, then.â Estinien mused, turning his own unopened, untouched stack in his hands, his thumb smoothing over the red ribbon holding them together.
Aymeric said nothing, his fingers faintly trembling as he plucked at the blue ribbon binding his. Hyana joined them on the bed in silence, setting her letters down on the duvet as though they were made of glass. Vardr, sat in Aymericâs lap, nosed at his hand as if to encourage him. Danuja, sat at Estinienâs side, sprawled to put her head in Hyanaâs lap in an attempt to comfort them both.
âDâyou suppose Serella was ever going to send them to us?â Hyana asked, breaking the weighty silence that hung in the canopied bed.
âNot while she is Acting Antecedent.â Aymeric replied quietly.
âToo tied up in politics to let herself feel anything.â Estinien snorted. âSounds familiar.â
That got a flinch out of Aymeric, though silence reigned again. For how close the three of them were, even without Serella, it felt like none of them knew what to say to one another anymore. That tension wound them all taut, the air tense and still. Vardr and Danuja were not enough to soothe them, and the additions of Riley, Rhalgr, and Menphina were no better, though not for lack of trying on the part of their remaining dog and cats.Â
With the bed filled to near capacity (for there was still one important occupant absent,) and no one truly knowing what to say, they all agreed to wordlessly read the letters given to themâ possibly compare to see if she had simply copied her words over and over to them.
A silly thoughtâ each letter was different, though the longing in them remained consistent. Though much of the contents remained private between them, ere long there were water logged phrases shared with exasperated warmth. âShe must know we miss her greatly.â âThinks weâre carrying on fine without her. Hmph.â âDoesnât she know she can still turn to us?â It took little to get them all to thaw, just a little, just enough to smile in tired fondness.
She had that effect on them, even so far away.
âWaitââ Estinien paused when he reached the last letter in his pile, a thicker envelope than the others by far. âThis...is not only addressed to me.â
âHm?â Aymeric, only just setting his last letter aside, newly read with red rimmed eyes, leaned over to see what Estinien was talking about. âTataru did not sort these ahead of timeâ Ella did. Meaningââ
âShe must have hoped Iâd come home to you both.â Estinien said for him with a disbelieving chuckle. âCanât stop worrying over the lot of us to save her own life, can she?â
When Hyana peered curiously in kind and saw that it was addressed to all three of them, she felt something in her chest twist unpleasantly. Just the act of looking at the envelope felt like beholding a goodbye.
Even as she didnât want it, she took the envelope from him and opened it without preamble. When Estinien made a noise of complaint, she held up a hand, âIâll read it out loud.â
They watched her expectantly as she unfolded the letter, took a deep breath, and began to read.
âMy Dearest Ones,
I donât even know if youâll ever see this. Maybe I just like to talk to you all. Maybe I just need to pretend I still can. Iâm not sure of much of anything anymore, save for that someoneâ I can only presume itâs the same someone who has taken the Scionsâ has bid me seek answers in Syrcus Tower.
Iâm assuming itâs a trap. It usually is. It probably is. But Iâm going anyway. We have no other leads, and I have no other hope of coming home again. Because thatâs what Iâve been laboring for: to come home to you all. Itâs all Iâve wantedâ even speaking in the day to day with you, Violet, or coordinating supplies and movements with you, Aymeric, I have mourned not being able to come home to you in any sense of the word. Estinien, I hope you came to be with them, to remind yourself you arenât alone, but even if youâre reading this without their company, know that itâs been hard not to reach out to you at all, and that I hope youâre as well as you can be.â
Estinien sniffed, but Hyana didnât tear her gaze from the letters scrawled on the pages in front of her.
âEvery day Iâve had to remind myself that what Iâm doing is only temporary. That itâs the right thing to doâ if I can, I must, right? But I just...write to you all in what time I have left to myself. When I canât sleep. When I donât know what to do. And then...then I stuff it in a desk drawer and tell myself itâs selfish to send something like that when I still canât be with you all. It would be unfair. How could I ask you all to support me when duty demands I keep you at armâs length?
âEasily.â Aymeric whispered.
âI donât know what Iâll find at the end of all of this. I donât know what price Iâll have to pay to see the Scions restored, but Iâll pay it. For us, itâs worth it. I canât promise many things, not the least of which is whether Iâll be the same person at the end of all of this. I can only promise that Iâll still be yours, for as long as you want me to be, and that Iâll bring us all home. I would be a fool to break that promise. The world was never kind to me, not until it led me to all of you. And Iâll fight my way back any way I can, to come home, to keep that kindness for myself. One way or another.
So lets all hold our heads high, as we always have, my darlings, and see this through, yeah? Have the kettle on for me, Iâll be home as soon as I can.
Your shield as sver,
Ellaâ
Hyana lost track of when her voice grew warbled with tears, but she felt them stick to her throat when she swallowed thickly. Her knuckles ached for how tightly they gripped the letter, even as she had taken care not to tear it. She would not cry over this. She hadnât for months now, what did words scribbled on pages change any of that?
âGod dammit.â Estinien snarled under his breath. When Hyana looked up at him, he had turned his head to hide from them both, the heel of his hand pressing firmly against his eye. âGod dammit.â
When Aymeric sniffed, she looked to him. With a hand pressed tightly over his mouth and tears falling from full, sticky lashes he seemed to be the only one who had it in him anymore to cry. She wondered if he had taken all of their tears for himself in Serellaâs place.
Hyana was not one for idle sorrow, not when productive rage was a more attractive option. The tears she swallowed couldnât douse the fire in her chest, the sparks of indignation struck against her ribs, the smoke filling her lungs. How dare Serella just decide to do this aloneâ again âand all for those held dear to her as though they were only dear to her! As if she was not an occupant in their lives, their hearts! The unmitigated gall of her!
She had shrugged Danuja off her lap and stood before she had fully realized she had done so. The anger ran hot in her veins but she hadnât felt so alive in months, not since home hadnât felt the same. It was something, rather than the dreary emptiness that had weighed her down.
âHyana?â Estinien looked up, pinned by Danuja fully now.Â
Unceremoniously, she tossed the letter down and gathered the letters that had been addressed to her specifically. Hastily tying them back together with that purple ribbon (violet, the nerve of her,) and tucking the lot of them in with her gear, she made to hastily pack her bag.
âViolet?â Aymeric called softly.
âShe went to Syrcus Trench.â Hyanaâs words all rushed to get out, hands scrambling to throw what clothes and supplies she might need into her pack. âThen she disappeared, but I have a starting pointâ and I think I know who took her.â
âWhatââ Estinien managed to stand first, burdened with fewer pets weighing him down. âHyana, I donâtââ
But sheâd already finished what packing was neededâ or at least, what she could think of amidst swirling thoughts and pounding pulse. Standing upright and swinging her pack upon her back she was already making for the door before either of them could even approach her.
âIâm going where she went. Iâm going to track her downâ and no, I donât care where she went, I will find herâ and Iâm going to beat her stupid fucking face in.â
Sheâd propped her lance against the wall when she came in, but snatched it up and turned toward them, fully prepared for them to look scared, or upset, for them to try and talk her down from leaving. She hadnât prepared for them to both look at her with slow, faint grins spreading on their faces.Â
âOrdinarily, Iâd advise against hitting her face.â Estinienâs grin widened. âBut sheâs been a stubborn ass. Slug her once for me, would you? Iâd follow you, but Tataru reached out to me for more than just the letters.â With a roll of his shoulders, he explained, âIâm being contracted to fill in where you lot need aid the most. So at least take comfort there will at least be one dragoon out in force.â
âWe all have our part to play.â Aymeric agreed with a nod. âI return to the front tonight.â
Where the room had been near stifled with the oppressive weight of sorrow there was an almost electric buzzing of motivationâ of energy where there had been none. Moved to action, enthusiastic action, for the first time in weeks had them almost intoxicated with vigor, and they stepped out into the night, into their roles, with every intention of seeing the dawn together, all four of them.
They had that effect on one another like that.
#vesnaint#I am as ever your shield#unstoppable forces and immovable objects#Aymeric de Borel#Estinien Wrymblood#Hyana Geriel#Serella Arcbane#5.0 spoilers#shadowbringers spoilers#(tagging just in case)#hi yes I'm a peddler of angst but I also live for the moment where the characters go 'no fuck your angst'#it's a personal favorite source of dopamine#ty for the ask!!!
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A Glitch of Kings
Optimus has a slight problem, one he would like taken care of discreetly. Trepan understands, of course, he specializes in taking care of problems discreetly! At least, he can try.
Guess what everyone I also occasionally write pointless babble. Special thanks to @mnemoiismsâ whose love of Trepan is so infectious that every time I have a conversation with them I think up a million Trepan plots for any number of AUs or fics.
Contains: Optimus, Trepan, mnemosurgery, some mental health stuff, medical stuff, Trepan considering the opportunity to play with this poor lil thing, weirdness, and nightmares
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"I have a glitch."
Optimus stated it the way a mechlet with a hand in a sweets jar admitted guilt. It was almost endearing, Trepan had to admit- for one so willing to offer help at a moment's notice, Optimus treated seeking help like a shame, speaking to a vulnerability Trepan felt certain few were privy to. Or maybe it was just adorable, to watch him squirm in discomfort.
The entertainment value certainly couldn't be denied.
"I see." Trepan's voice was carefully modulated to put a potential patient at ease, and he hid a smug grin under a comforting, concerned smile as he pulled out the glasses and began to pour the bubbly, carbon-infused energon Optimus had bought. Bribery had it's benefits. "Is this a new development, or-?"
"Reoccurring." Optimus stated a bit too fast. "It's been a while, and I can typicallyâŚ" trailing off, faceplates hot.
"... You've managed it on your own before, I surmise. So why come to me, then?" Trepan handed him the glass and watched as the ranger fiddled with it instead of drinking. "What has changed?"
Optimus stared at the energon's purplish hue. "...I can't recharge. It was never this bad, before."
"Mm, I rather thought you looked exhausted."
"When I try, it's just...false memory purges, nightmares, coming out of recharge v-violently." There was a catch to his voice, not a lie, but Trepan was keen on knowing when an omission was made. "They have me waking up every few minutes, it feels like. Or worse, I try to wake and I- I can't. When I was an apprentice, my caretaker would help, and it faded, butâŚâ Optimus gestured vaguely, and the tail draped like a scarf around his shoulders coiled tighter by a hair. â...Iâm tired. Iâm tired, and Iâm snapping at my team and losing track of my duties. I canât afford this glitch, not now.â
Trepan schooled his expression. Polite smile. Graceful touch to the shoulder. Reassuring gaze and grip. "Well...Iâm hardly capable of extensive work on my own -" a bold faced lie, but a useful one. "-but nightmares can be easily dismissed with even a surface connection. If you just desire some rest, I can temporarily disable your memory purges- your processor would begin them again withinâ a decacycle or so.â He flexed a hand delicately at the wrist, and when the needles emerged with a soft hiss of metal Optimus flinched and his auditory fins swept down like a distressed animalâs ears. Aw. Adorable.
âAnd then?â
âYou can come back, and I can repeat the process. If youâre willing to take that risk.â He spotted the confusion in the rangerâs eyes, and sipped his drink, letting the carbon-infused liquid rest on his glossa, feeling the bubbles in it pop, pleasantly tingly. Letting Optimus wait. âWithout memory purges, the processor begins to degrade. It may take a while to notice, but extensive denial of purges could have certain effects. Mood swings, memory loss or corruption, it would be no better than denying rest as a whole.â
Optimus stared down at his still-untouched drink, looking despairing for all the world. It struck Trepan that the expression was ill-suited on his youthful face.
âOf course,â Trepan continued, âthere are more extensive treatments I can attempt. Therapy. Memory training. Positive reinforcement codes to at least allow you to recharge naturally, regardless of dreams and purges. Most glitches have an underlying source that can be identified and localized, even corrected completely, given some effort.â Now that got the rangerâs attention.
â....Could you? No, would you?â
âThis is not a service that would have come cheap, Optimus. You would have to allow me into your mind, repeatedly.â He tapped the long needles on the table, drumming against the metal surface with a distinctive ring. Delicate as they looked, they were stronger than nearly any other portion of his body, and when he dragged them along the surface it screeched, pitched and sharp. The vibrations merely made his hand tingle. Optimus cringed like he was pained. âI could promise client confidentiality to a point, but there is always a risk with these things. It almost certainly would be unpleasant, revealing...have you even had any softwork done before, beyond updates?â
âNo.â Optimus admitted.
Trepan looked at the bottle. One of several the ranger had bought to him- sometimes in exchange for information, or simply out of politeness. He had it on good authority that the mecha bought a gift to everyone he visited, Trepan simply knew he had more specific tastes than most. âI will treat you, whichever way you desire.â Trepan sighed. âYou will simply have to owe me.â
âI have shanix-â
âThereâs a war going on, and we are all trapped on a planet with no communications, no shipments going in or out, and no use for shanix. Iâll just find some task for you. Maybe you can round up your team and repair my home the next time a storm crashes through, or some âcon decides he doesnât like me living so close to their territory.â Waving a hand as if to dismiss the worry of payment. âIt would only be fair, since any sort of operation not only jeopardizes you...but myself, as well. Especially with no trained team to assist.â He put a hand on Optimusâ shoulder again- this time, the one with the needles, and watched as Optimus went so still he held his breath. âNightmares can be contagious in my line of work, you understand.â
Optimus nodded very slowly, very carefully, all too aware of thin needles against his thick fur. He didnât exhale until Trepan released his shoulder and moved away, turning to hide his smug grin.
âThink about it. Mnemosurgery is not something you should go into lightly.â
âI...I will.â Optimus couldnât say polite goodbyes and gather himself up to leave fast enough, after that. Nervousness practically bled off of him, like heâd been doused in it. Good, Trepan figured. Nervous people made silly choices, and silly choices made people desperate for relief. It wasnât that he wanted to risk his own security by compromising the ranger, but...he was a curious one.
And Trepan was growing rapidly bored of probing the brains of criminals and warriors. Someone curious would do.
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Optimus, as it was, could not stand more than one more sleepless night. So it was that Trepan cleaned up the operating room heâd set aside, and found Optimus leaning back on the slab. Stiff and still and clearly already raw nerves even with none exposed, yet. âYouâre allowed to breath, Optimus. All procedures have their risks, but I assure you, Iâve done this many times before. You will be safe.â
âMm.â Optimus barely nodded, staring up at where sunlight filtered in through the mirrored window directly above.
âAnd if anything does go wrong, I have your medicâs frequency.â
It made Optimus flinch, which was a little funny. He really did look exhausted, optics dim and unfocused and the glossiness of his plating and fur dulled some. He would perk right back with some proper, uninterrupted recharge of course. He would thank Trepan properly, then.
âNow, Iâm going to begin.â Trepan took his place at the head of the slab, looking down at Optimus upside-down from each otherâs viewpoint, offering his sweetest smile, antennae flicking out wide behind him. âYou will be conscious and aware for the duration of the operation, though you may experience the memory purges firsthand. I will be paralyzing your greater motor functions, to ensure you donât hurt yourself, or hurt me, by trying to move while I am injecting.â Heâd gone over this three times already, but given how numbly Optimus had followed his instructions it never truly hurt to repeat oneâs self. âOnce I inject, it will be several minutes before I can maintain a connection, but I will inform you before I begin. If you want me to stop at any point, just say so. Are you ready?â
âYes.â Optimus tried not to look at Trepan, instead focusing back on the light. Perfectly natural to be nervous. Mnemosurgery got such a terrible reputation, these days- Trepan remembered when bots were happy, eager to come to his slab, have their perceptions tweaked or have bad days obliterated entirely, have addictions cleared up in an hour or fears washed away without a trace. He rather missed that.
âYou will feel the initial injection- it will hurt, but only for a nanoklik.â Trepan reassured, smoothing down the fur of Optimusâ shoulder with one hand as the other drifted, needles out, to the side of his helm. âI am going to inject directly behind your audial. Take in a deep vent-â Optimus obeyed. And his eyes went wide as it escaped him in the start of a yell that barely wound up a gasp. It had hurt. Like a hot knife jabbed into his helm, searing and driving and then before he could really process it or react...it was just gone. Like he hadnât even felt any pain, not even a ghost of it remaining.
Instead, just the deeply disorienting sensation of feeling something inside his helm.
âThere we are...do you feel any pain or discomfort?â Trepan asked, and it took Optimus a second to find his voice again, feeling quiet.
âNo.â He swallowed hard. âThat was fast.â
âMm, yes, itâs a handy tool to use. I wouldnât wish my patients to suffer needlessly.â Trepan sounded distracted, and Optimus though absently that the instant evaporation of pain was different from when the medics treated him, different from when Red Alert connected for pain relief coding, or from the slow build of numbness from an injection or patch. Trepan answered the question he didnât ask, and Optimus was suddenly aware of the presence not just in his skull, but in his mind. âYou are still feeling pain, actually. A medicâs pain management eliminates the sensation, or helps to deaden the sensors themselves- Iâm simply ensuring your processor registers it as nonthreatening.â
âOh.â Optimusâ mouth felt dry.
âSo, useful in a different way. My capacity to manipulate the sensation would not, say, prevent your frame from going into shock from an overload of pain, as true numbing would. But it has itâs own benefits...for one, you can still feel me.â Something about the single needle in his helm adjusted and Optimus felt the room spin with a sudden rush of dizziness before it passed. âI know, itâs very disorienting. But it lets me know if Iâve hit anything vital, or run into unexpected physical barriers. After all, the sensations are still there, they are just being...interpreted differently.â
Optimus wondered for a moment on what interpreted differently really meant, and Trepan chuckled. âYour sensory network registers everything as frequencies, as data and energy. To someone who knows how to read those frequencies, there is very little difference between pain-â A brief, dull ache bloomed in the back of his head, before vanishing. A false-feeling. â-and everything else.â Everything else was warmth, pleasure, a bloom of heat that seeped down Optimusâ spinal column and coiled in his chest, then vanished. Optimus was rapidly realizing exactly why mnemosurgery was rare. And feared.
âDonât forget expensive. Very few mechanisms have the capacity to become mnemosurgeons.â Trepan expanded. Something about his presence in Optimusâ mind reassured him that he was honestly not offended in the slightest. Amused, yes, but not offended. âOur processors have a natural mutation, not unlike those found in empaths. The capacity to understand another mechanismâs processor, to process that information faster than they can. I was very fortunate- I tested positive for such a beneficial mutation only weeks before I would have been assigned to a mining colony.â
Optimus could scarcely imagine Trepan as anything other than what he was, now. The concept of him mining out some other dirtworld like this one here, or pulling apart asteroids in a distant field of starsâŚ
âHardly suiting, isnât it? I would not have lasted.â Trepan laughed. âYou are doing very well...your firewalls have accepted my presence. I am ready to begin.â Optimusâ eyes flicked up to him, before going back to the light. He hadnât bothered to turn off his capacity for vocalization, yet still he was just...too nervous to speak aloud. Understandable, given that five inches of metal had been jammed into the joint of his helm, behind his audial, and was currently resting neatly against his processor. Good thing Optimus could simply think, and it was. âYouâre going to be dizzy, or even nauseous, but I wonât let you purge your tanks. Itâd be a pain to clean up.â
Even scared and vulnerable, Optimus smiled weakly and amusement crept through him. He rather liked this mental image Optimus had of him- pretty and delicate and refined but oh-so-dangerous, risky. Constantly fluctuating between trust and wariness. Something deeper, a memory, a lesson learned. Something to investigate later, Trepan filed that away in his own memory banks.
True enough, Optimusâ optics fluttered shut, and his world twisted and turned and he could hear Trepanâs voice still, and knew that his body was limp and motionless, but he also felt himself stirring, moving, turning over- he was in Trepanâs suite, no, he was in his own berthroom, on the soft too-large mattress and in the cool, dark air of night, and he was trying to fall asleep.
Oh. This was the memory of several nights ago.
âIt is.â Trepanâs voice was heard and not-heard. It was a little unsettling. âYes, well, this is why those seeking more intensive treatments may prefer to be unconscious.â
It was a little nauseating. Like being spun in circles or a grounderâs first time in microgravity.
âNow, lets see these pesky nightmares, shall we?â Things adjusted. It grew darker. Optimus tried to retreat in his own motionless mind. âOptimusâŚthere is no shame in having a glitch. Particularly one so benign as false memory purges, or terrors. And even if there were, I am not here to judge, only to assist you.â Trepanâs voice was like a warm, syrupy sensation more than sound anymore. Like hot oil applications. âThis is just a memory of a dream. I will be right here if you need things to stop.â Reassuring.
A touch of tenderness and Optimus opened his mind willingly. It was downright delightful. Trepan could have been deep withinâ his soul in a moment if heâd wanted, could have broken through and busted down every barrier in the way with but a thought, but why do that when it was so much more pleasant to have someone open the door and hold it for you? Optimus was so wary but wanted to trust so badly...it would have broken Trepanâs spark if he were a sentimental mechanism.
Which he wasnât. So instead it amused him.
Memory Purges and Dreams were always difficult to sort through, even if you knew what you were doing, even with ages of skills and talents behind him. They were disorganized, messy, scraps of data that needed to be cleaned up or that spawned their own self-perpetuating loops. Glitches were common, even if they often were self-repaired in a matter of a day or two- so the ones that lasted were always at the very least interesting, and often times particularly nasty or invasive.
But Trepan had peered inside of so many minds, inside of rebels and anarchists, picked through the thoughts of common murderers and high-class lords with âeclecticâ tastes alike and found little different and little shocking between them. He eased into the files of dreams, ready for corrupted memories or old traumas turned into dataloops, fantasies or fears.
Instead.
Things stopped making sense for a few frantic seconds, and it was a few seconds too long. Trepan was, terrifyingly to himself, just about out of control of the situation when the memories flooded Optimusâ senses, and spilled over into him like so much energon from an opened cube.
So many voices they were crying out cheering laughing sounds of victory singing singing singing singing reverent voices ringing out in discordant joy marching and dancing and hands thrown into the air clutching crushed crystal petals of cybertronian flowers that were released and tossed into sparkling rainbow clouds of glass crunching underfoot
Singing singing singing and cheering and mechanisms faceless and infinite in a sea of color reaching out to touch to feel to stroke over armor reverently and warmly the song muffled and too loud all at once the lyrics unrecognizable but somehow still known and verse after verse after verse repeating-
Song chant droning and matching his sparkbeat filling his head as he moves through the crowd NO as the crowd pushes him along NO as he is pulled along by the spark PLEASE NO and the singing is only getting louder echoing from buildings and cliffs and off panes of crystal towering overhead the likes of which have long since been mined to nothing on Cybertron I DONâT WANT TO SEE THIS AGAIN
Trepan was withdrawing before he could even think about it. Frantically untangling himself from the thoughts that were too loud to be from Optimusâ tempered, pleasant mind.
Urging him forwards forwards forwards footsteps heavy and slow and reluctant and on the throne before him the figure is slumped and limp and pierced through with thirteen blades of light NO NO NO and were it not for the piercing fear-white glow of their eyes they could be dead for all the energon I DONâT WANT TO SEE and they are not huge or grand or glorious and their golden armor is stained with sickly purple-pink and their biolights glow white-hot where theyâre not bubbling energon and NO and someone else is here. Not Optimus, whose mind is eerily quiet. Not Trepan, who canât help but see even when it only takes microseconds to break the connection. Someone is begging and fearful and Trepan knows foreign, invasive code when he feels it.
And this is not some invasive virus, this isnât some malicious code, or someone elseâs mnemosurgical softwork come round on itâs host.
He breaks the connection cold and pulls his hand from Optimusâ helm fast and violently, and they both scream. Trepan sharp and short, Optimus wailing like a wounded animal for a terrible moment. Trepan has had connections broken violently before- itâs always unpleasant. Like a shock of superchilled saltwater across the body and mind. He canât even be angry when Optimus flails for a moment, only to half-roll and purge his tanks off the side of the slab. Heâd retch up too, if he didnât force his lips shut and to forcibly swallow anything threatening to rise to his mouth.
âYou.â He turns on Optimus after a moment to vent heavily, and the ranger looks at him with the startled confusion of a mechanisms freshly woken from recharge. âIDIOT.â Thankfully, the nearest thing is a thin, light datapad, so it doesnât do much damage when he throws it at Optimus with all the force his slender frame can muster. Optimus barely managed to shield his face with his arm, regardless.
"I-!"
Trepan doesn't give him a moment to try to argue or apologize or say anything, really. "You send me in blind, unknowing, unprepared-" He throws a box of sanitizing wipes, this time, and Optimus rolls off the far side of the slab to take cover. Trepan feels raw. Like his armor has been stripped off. He'll be reeling for days and he knows it. "-you knew! You've no, no glitch, no errors, you idiot!"
"I'm sorry!" Optimus peers from his hiding place, wary, and only just ducks in time to avoid another box of supplies. "I thought it wouldn't matter!"
"That you're a frelling prophet?! That you're Primus-touched?!" Trepan will be embarrassed about how undignified he's being later. Once the hysterics fade. "What kind of prime goes off to do a ranger's duty-?!"
"I'm not a prime!" Optimus yells, and there's a particular note of desperation in it that makes Trepan go quiet, save for the too-loud-too-fast wheezing of his vents. His hand is numb, he realizes, needles retracted and a tingling that has crept up his arm nearly to his shoulder.
It echoes a ghost of a sensation in his processor. He shudders to think of if he'd stayed connected without proper guards in place. He heard stories, colleagues who were burned out of others' minds.
"I'm not a prime." Optimus says again, softer. Wary as he peers out again, clutching the edge of the slab. "I'm not. I won't be."
"You don't get to choose that sort of thing, you fool." Trepan spits the words.
"The Autobots don't engage in functionism like that. Cybertron has changed." A weak argument.
"Not that much, it hasn't." Trepan stalks towards the slab, mindful of the puddle of soured energon and organic foodstuffs, glaring down at Optimus who crouches still. It's almost funny, in a vastly different way than Optimus' tentative nerves had been at first.
A Primus-touched priest, crouching fearfully before a lowly criminal. Hilarious.
"No-one in their sane mind would have allowed this." Trepan bares his teeth in a grimace, but now that he can think again, the drowning music fading from his mind quick, he is starting to plan, as is his nature. To tease new thoughts. "You said you apprenticed at the archives."
"I was not lying." Optimus sounds guilty and isn't that just pathetic? Someone who should have spent their life in unfairly blissful comfort and praise looking down at the floor like a scolded student. "I served my apprenticeship under Alpha Trion."
The pieces were coming together. "Trion Prime. A little priest in training, then? Too good or too valuable to be trained at the temples?"
"...It wasn't like that. There's no more primes."
"That's molten slag and you know it. I don't care if they abdicated their power and cracked the matrices. High Lords and Alphas are nothing but primes under a fresh coat of paint and you should be one of them! You should be sitting on a throne, having your pedes kissed." It feels good to be mean, now. To hiss the words that make Optimus only cringe and hunker down further. "What happened? Trion decide you weren't up to task? Did the priests decide you couldn't cut it?"
"I said it wasn't like that. No-one knew."
"...no one knew. No one knew a blessed one was wandering amongst them."
"Trion helped me to hide."
Trepan's processor was spinning with possibilities and uncertainties. So he straightened up, took a deep vent in...and turned, stalking from the room. "Clean up the mess you've made. Then we are going to sit, and finish the bottle of energon, and you will explain to me everything that has happened."
He didn't bother to look back to see if Optimus was complying, knowing he would.
Change of plans, then.
What in all the facets of the pit did you do with a secret like that in your hands?
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Cutting, calling, sticking, sitting, subtitling: Week 15, Spain
With future certainty and concrete plans nowhere in sight, this weekâs blog post is in praise of the mundane. Seven days of everyday life.
When prepping for this blog entry, I started panicking. Whatâs the overarching message? The big-picture mood of the week or the lesson Iâve learnt? Well this week, there isnât one. Itâs been seven days of everyday life and I reckon thatâs worth celebrating too.
Weâve been pitching for some exciting work this week.
I canât talk about the specifics, but itâs heartening to be actually planning and quoting for real-life projects that could bring in real-life money and real-life experience. We pretty much work on Broaden as a full-time venture anyway (regardless of if it makes us money), so when prospective clients reach out to Broaden to ask us to do more of what we love, then thatâs a bonus.
I guess thatâs the beauty of filmmaking, itâs so broad and its potential is so great that it can be valuable for a whole lot of people. I also think in the coming ânew normalâ as countries, cities and communities come to adapt life around Covid-19, that the role of video and online streaming will shift, and perhaps become a more central element in our lives.
Iâve also been working away at editing the video we started filming last week about Economics for a more just and equitable world. Itâs starting to take shape, though there is a lot of refinement needed (Iâve cut 150 minutes down to 30 minutes but still have a fair way to go!). Working on this video is also bringing about a newfound challenge of how we make videos like this visually stimulating, when they predominantly feature digital interviews and we canât film footage out and about due to lockdown. Itâs forcing us to get more creative with motion graphics, which is no bad thing.
In what is the culmination of a longstanding project, we also interviewed Rich Evans about The Foundations in New South Wales this week.
âThe Foundationsâ is a truly extraordinary project/place in Portland, a tiny town about two-hours inland from Sydney. I first discovered the project when I worked in Australia, and the company I worked for, RobertsDay, was involved in a masterplanning process. Portland was established around a cementworks which went on to not only be the driving economic force behind the town, but also the backbone of the community. It was a source of civic pride (cement from Portland famously went to Sydney amid the building boom, coining it the phrase âThe Town That Built Sydneyâ), and also helped establish social infrastructure like the swimming pool that is still a celebrated destination in the little town today. Sadly, as the cementworks decreased in scale and eventually closed in the nineties, it had a huge impact on the town.
(images) Scenes from January 2019 when we started filming at The Foundations, Portland NSW.
Back at RobertsDay, I had the pleasure of working on the masterplan and placemaking work for the next chapter of the cementworks, and I immediately fell in love with the place. Not only was it this incredible place of industrial heritage, but the owners actually wanted to transform the site into something really special - a tourist destination, an asset to the community, and a revitalised part of the town. From its current state - fenced-off, closed, and perhaps even an eyesore, the owners wanted to introduce artwork, markets, community gardens, museum collections, fishing and camping, weddings, concerts and a whole host of other things.
It was obvious that there was a story about The Foundations that deserved to be told, and so in January 2019 George and I spent a weekend there, filming local residents, business owners, and the wonderful Rich Evans, âChief Reactivation Officerâ from The Foundations. This was before weâd even launched Broaden, but we were passionate to use filmmaking to document the transformation that was taking place there. However, over the course of 2019, other things took centre stage in our lives and we never got around to editing the final film.
And so, in lockdown here in Spain, we decided it was finally time to close off this story. Just this week,we called Rich over Zoom and asked him all about how things have progressed since we last visited Portland. Rich is a larger-than-life character who had so much good stuff to report (an artist in residence, growing market attendee numbers, new custom-designed public furniture, and the renovation of a central historic building which involved the removal of 1000s of bees!).
In a strange way, Iâd originally thought of this hiatus as a weakness for our film, but it now has added another facet to the story: giving Rich a chance to reflect on progress at The Foundations and show viewers how much is possible in the space of a year.
Making collages serves as respite for the mind.
I return to my collage practice as a meditative practice, and a restorative one too. Itâs something I do when I want to clear my mind, and use a different part of my brain from the video-editing-zoom-calling-analytical-planning side of my brain.
That said, the last few paper collages Iâve made have felt like a bit of struggle, and Iâve felt rather uninspired. The collages are never meant to be a forced thing, but instead something visceral and playful, but in recent times theyâd stopped being that.
Until this week! This week, inspired to make a collage for my mumâs birthday, I started getting my boxes of magazines and compiled sheets out, stuck my âMaking Collageâ playlist on, and somehow just found my groove. Shapes and forms shouted out to me, and I was more preoccupied with the mood of the pieces than perfection and precision. I was drawn to more ambiguous textures and the way that they could be layered, and what started as one collage ended up being a series of three (the other two of which Iâll later publish this week).
(image) The collage I made for my mumâs birthday, âFlirtatious Texturesâ.
Whilst Iâve feel as though Iâve found my swing with collage-making again (and have been also considering embarking on some critical writing about my creative process using academic texts for reference), this week I had a piece rejected. Iâd made it to enter into a competition, and when the rejection email landed in my inbox this week, the usual heart-racing pangs of inadequacy entered my mind. Not only had I lost money on the entry fee, but my work was âunwantedâ. Iâve spent some time facing those demons these last couple of days and reminding myself that I make my work for ME.
So if thatâs the cutting and sticking, and the zoom interviews were the calling, whatâs the sitting and subtitling this weekâs post refers to?
Weâve been doing a lot of sitting. Sitting and staring, sitting and watching the sun set, sitting and reading books, sitting and checking Instagram, sitting and feeling guilt for sitting, sitting and swatting mosquitoes away (itâs rather hot all of a sudden), sitting and eating crisps, sitting and calling friends, sitting and laughing, smiling, frowning, thinking.
(images, left to right) Everyday scenes from the cottage, cutting and sticking, and a lot of sitting (as demonstrated by George!)
It feels totally bonkers that as we face a global health pandemic, all Iâm drawn to do (or able to do) is sit. And George and I have certainly discussed the guilt, lack of motivation, boredom and soul-searching thatâs grown (and comes along with sitting!) in recent weeks. Iâm not sure if thereâs some grand benefit to all this sitting, but it has called for the enjoyment of many a good book, and also a good phonecall.
One of the most joyful moments (spent sitting!) this week was surely the video call I had for my Grannyâs 80th birthday, between my mum, my brother, my aunt and my Granny herself. There were laughs and cheers, ridiculous filters used and lots of talk of birthday booze and plentiful cake. But after the call, there were also moments of reflection and of gratitude; that we are able to celebrate together (albeit digitally) for the momentous milestone that is my wonderful Grannyâs eightieth birthday, as she sits alone in her house in Scotland, is a blessing. Of course, I would have loved to have seen her in person, but I am so bloody grateful that we can connect to her even if just through the airwaves.
Birthdays in May seem to be a common occurrence in my family, and this week saw my Mumâs birthday too. Again, there was a sense of loss that unsurprisingly, I couldnât be with her due to coronavirus (a fact made worse by the fact I donât think Iâve been with my Mum on her birthday for about five years), but we were also able to chat and videocall. And I was also able to go back through my photos, reflecting on wonderful times shared across the years.
(images, left to right) Looking back at memories with mum - as a child in a sling, on our trip to Sri Lanka in 2018, and at the exhibition opening of âTalking Senseâ where one of her sculptures was displayed at the Portico Library last year.
Access to computers and the internet, free time to sit and chill, and family who are safe and sound is not a privilege everyone shares. And I am so aware of that.
I continue to think of the inequalities this pandemic is highlighting, and the gaps it is widening. Access to the fundamental elements for a just and equitable life are basic human rights, and yet as BBC newsnightâs Emily Maitlis reminded us, 'The disease is not a great leveller'. If while Iâm sitting this week, I can at least read, watch, learn and share ideas about how we can tackle these gaping inequalities, my sitting was perhaps not in vain.
As our fifteenth week on the road drew to a close, and looked ever less like life actually âon the roadâ, I decided to take on the task of subtitling The Hundred Miler.
Initially, the only motivation to create comprehensive subtitles for Broadenâs thirty minute documentary was so that we could enter foreign film fests. And even then, weâd have had it professionally subtitled if we werenât looking for ways to save money!
And so I naively embarked on what was to become a two-day odyssey involving Artificial Intelligence transcript detection, manually correcting the script, learning about timecodes, downloading .srt files and working to integrate them with YouTube.
The long and short of it is that The Hundred Miler (which also hit a whopping 100,000 views this week) now has complete âclosed captionâ subtitles which you can use and enjoy on YouTube! But more than that, through conversations with others I realised the importance of subtitles from an accessibility perspective, as a critical tool to help deaf and hard-of-hearing people, as well as those for whom English isnât their mother tongue. It was a refreshing reminder that we exclude people without meaning to, but that we can also actively include them if we take certain measures.
So thatâs it, Week 15 in all its mundane glory. To those of you who are still here, reading my reflections on these strange and tumultuous times, thank you. Maybe this week youâve been cutting, calling, sticking, sitting and subtitling too, and for that, I salute you.Â
#COVID-19#coronavirus#estadodealarma#lifeinlockdown#hiacevan#toyotahiace#broaden#digitalnomads#vanlife#traveldiaries
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