#and that is in fact several ticks down the Want To Write list
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ronearoundblindly · 28 days ago
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This is going to be a tough one, I know, so if you nix it from the sleepover list I will understand. #8 with the trope of pining...for Lloyd🥸
I know I know I know, he doesn't care, but that's what makes it a challenge. Also I'm sorry.
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You know what's so funny? I knew exactly what I wanted to write for this prompt immediately. I hate that journey for me. Y'all ruined me. No wonder I only got two Steve asks (so far); I'm a Trashstacher now somehow!!! 🔪🔪🔪
Lloyd x maid!reader
Warnings for language and raunchy humor, talk of smut/fantasizing, and idk an asshole being an asshole lol. I don't write Lloyd as soft or sweet, so MINORS DNI for this ficlet. WC ~3k?? idk, but this made me too happy to wait and post later...sorry not sorry.
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He'd written them off as a loss, but low-and-behold, there are his white jeans, devoid of blood, pristine and pressed on his bed when he returns to pack for the next job.
This chateau--and its estate--is quickly becoming one of his favorite places to shack up and whack a man (or two).
Everything always gets cleaned and tidied, always in the background, always without him seeing a soul in his rooms, but the dead giveaway is the lollipop on the pillow, wrapped in gold foil with a fleur-de-lis logo.
All of his bathroom toiletries are replaced in the precise position he leaves them in, completely wiped of residue and fingerprints. He can appreciate that kind of dedication to one's craft, so he comes back to town sooner than necessary, a mark he must torture for information in tow, relishing the deep comfort of the marble, rainfall shower and towel warmer afterward, sleeping easy in the luxurious thread count and down covers.
And then, instead of his lollipop, he gets a bill for an ungodly sum neatly presented on his pillow.
"The FUCK is this," he rages down the hall, locking onto the first poor sod he sees who works there. "You! You get me the son of a bitch who's responsible--" Lloyd crumples the paper into the footman's chest, twisting to make his point "--right fucking now."
The boy doesn't squeak so much as lose control of his voice, throat, and lungs in alarm, but the point is, in fact, made. Within five minutes, you stand before Lloyd, composed, unaffected.
"Why?!" he screams. "What the shit would possess you to--"
"It's not possession, sir. It's a matter of saturation."
Lloyd blinks, squints, and cocks his head. No one talks to him like this.
"Your...activities yesterday resulted in a priceless rug being damaged beyond repair." You give him a beat to argue though he says nothing, biting the inside of his cheek. "If you had chosen the rug on the other end of the Georgiana suite, there'd be no problem as that one is a replica and can be cleaned."
He growls and pets his mustache, barely smothering his snide response.
"You sure found a price for it..."
"That would be the cost of another replica," you add without hesitation. "I convinced them not to charge you for the original, Mister Hansen, since you are a loyal guest."
"You?" he scoffs. "You convinced them?"
You nod politely, eyes lowered, hands clasped behind your back.
"You?" Lloyd struts forward. "You're the one who cleans up after me?"
Nodding again, he hears a soft, "yes, sir."
He chews on that information for a moment then looks around. "Is there...a room more convenient to conduct my business in?"
Your gaze raises to meet his. "Several, sir. I can show you if you wish."
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His bill is settled by that night, and he has a message sent to you to come to his room that evening. He actually writes out a note, pen and paper, closest shit to romance he gets, that 'requests' you show up. Lloyd isn't prepared to be snubbed and left wanting when you never arrive, so out of spite, he jacks off on the Louis XVI chair in the corner and again on the darkest area of rug at the foot of the four-poster bed.
He imagines you the whole time: shocked, naked, and kneeling. What a beautiful sight. A muscle in his jaw ticks, remembering it's not real.
He packs in the morning and waits down the hall, staring at the door until he sees you arrive to clean.
Very deliberately, Lloyd scoots past your basket of supplies, plucks out a lollipop, and unwraps it before leaving, a smirk so devilish on his lips that your own expression is clearly tinged with fear.
Worth it.
"You'd look better in one of those little outfits," he says, rolling the hard candy to push his cheek out suggestively.
You remain far more serious than he'd like.
"The skirts make too much noise, sir, and the shoes."
Boo. He fucking hates practicality (that's not true) and can't wait to leave (also untrue).
Once home, he expects another charge, perhaps some sort of commentary on his behavior, but nothing happens.
Lloyd finds himself wondering a lot.
Why didn't you show up that night? How did you react to the state of his room? What are you doing right now? Do you like the same breakfast foods he does? What does your cunt smell like? Are your hands smooth or rough? How long have you been working there? What got the bloodstains out of those jeans?
Things Lloyd never thinks about, though, include if you are married, if you enjoy your work, and if you give a flying fuck about him.
He only thinks about how close the next location he's sent is to the chateau, if he can stretch the distance to drop by, if he could fake a job and just show up. No, he decides. That would be too obvious, too desperate.
He's thinking about you too much, hearing whispers of your "yes, sir" in the throes of fucking some other desperate bitch he found close to home--or wherever he is,--and it's not a good look for him. He tries to keep going, to fuck it out of his system, to project onto you qualities he doesn't like to stop himself from thinking so fucking much.
Doesn't work.
Lloyd can read people like Spark Notes--all the important bits and none of the individualism--so he knows you more than you'd guess. You're perfect for him. He knows what you'll let him do to you. He knows what you'll fight back on. He likes that you'll fight back on those things because the fighting just makes him hotter for you.
Sweet jesus, he's hard as a rock in an empty bed.
Shameful.
This is shameful, and Lloyd Hansen's never been ashamed in his whole life. Fuck you. He really needs to fuck you. He really wants to fuck you. He's thinking about it again.
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He will not be admitting to how long this goes on for. He even avoided a stay at your chateau to punish himself for this insanity, but of course, at the moment he nipped off a guy's finger with bolt cutters, he thought of you.
Do you think of him? Would you approve of his work? Would you want to see him?
Is there a rug in here?
Sadly, no, there is no rug, nothing to justify reminding him of you, and Lloyd, for once, is utterly unhappy with the successful job when the guy talks then loses consciousness.
Sinking into the chair beside his victim, Lloyd fiddles with his switchblade.
He looks at his immaculate polo shirt and sighs.
Well, he could find an excuse. He could need your services...
He picks up the finger from the concrete floor and squeezes it, smearing the blood over his pec and ribs. That'll do. That's a stain that needs treated.
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Lloyd expected some sort of reaction.
Instead, you simply hold out your hand for the shirt. You expect him to strip in the motorpool of a 'small' castle and stand there, waiting, half-naked.
When he hesitates, you smile in a way that puffs your lips out enticingly.
"As if you'd mind," you mutter in a sweet tone before spinning on your heel (in those tragic, comfortable shoes) and waving. "Follow me."
Would a 'please' fucking kill you? Could you call him 'sir' one more time? Did you only do that when he was a paying guest?
Lloyd stands with chilly nipples in the laundry of the servants' quarters, fascinated, watching you work your magic, confused when you set the garment to soak in a tub and walk out silently.
He does a curious lap of the room, sniffing this and that, suspiciously checking that the blue dye isn't bleeding into the water along with the diluted red.
Why does he care? He doesn't, but if you seem to care about it this much...
You're back, an undershirt and button-down in hand, apparently unaware he's not one to wear fucking someone else's shit.
You bunch the wife beater into a strategic tube.
"Arms out, sir."
Lloyd's body obeys before he processes he's following an order, though polite, and laces his wrists through the right holes.
"Up."
He does, brutally aware now that this is the first touch he's ever felt from you in reality: you smoothing thin and stretchy cotton down his sides. His abs jump. He's not ticklish. He's that excited.
The button-down gets pushed over his arms from behind, shrugged to the right spot before you cinch it tight around his chest. This shirt is crisp, starched, oddly fitted--and by 'oddly' he means to question how you could possibly have found something with his measurements without having noted them sometime in the past--but then Lloyd instinctively chuckles, dark and delighted, as you undo his slacks.
The back of your hands graze his thighs and ass while you shove them around his waistband to tuck in the shirt. He groans just thinking about your palm gliding slowly over his bulge, but you're not deterred and keep professionally adjusting the fabric, buttoning him back up, and flipping the collar just so.
Both your hands, those taunting palms, those teasing fingers, sweep down his whole front in a final flourish, eyes admiring your own work plus his body (he likes to think).
"Where shall I send it when it's ready?"
Lloyd clasps your retreating hands in his, harsher than he intends because he's more keyed-up than he realized. Your skin is a bizarre and excellent combination of soft and rough, all the right care taken, all the right effort made in work and play. At least, that's what he thinks.
"Bring it with you," he husks, "when you come work for me, pumpkin."
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Why does he feel less in control than ever?
He's gotten almost everything he wanted. He barely needed to ask for it, too. You showed up wearing the black and white outfit, the big skirt practically a tutu showing off a hint of your ass each bend you make at the waist. Your heels click on the floor, even the thump-thump against the carpet a distinct, haunting sound, yet he's still only imagined having you all around his house.
Lloyd isn't usually a man of inaction. It's building up this dark, thick venom of desire in his veins to watch you, and he's deeply pleased to play the game of waiting.
Shameful.
It's shameful how devout he's become to the wait, to the watching.
No matter how blatantly he displays his virility, no matter how much of the bedding he stains with his seed, no matter how many times he steps out of the bathroom dripping wet and in nothing but a towel at the exact moment you're cleaning the bedroom, you don't give an inch.
All you do, all you ever do, is clasp your hands behind your back for a moment, eyes down, and give a small curtsy before starting to clean again.
Damn you for being so perfectly unreadable. He loves that he can't figure you out as easily as everyone else. He guesses. He projects what he wants and needs, but the hoping drives him the right amount of insane. Lloyd is now addicted to the hope he's got you pegged and the possibility that he'll have to just peg you...
"What are you thinking about?" he finally asks, hooking a thumb into the towel to nudge it a little bit farther down his hip, dangerously low in fact.
Without missing a beat, you tear off the last of the sheets and drop them in a pile at your feet, plucking a fresh one from the stack you brought in.
Composed, unaffected save for the ghost of a smirk that has him blatantly licking his own lips, you bend over so your ass practically jumps out of those stupid, wonderful skirts at the exact level of his hardly-covered cock.
"You know, sir, I'm as easy to clean as these pillowcases you fuck every night."
Shit. If Lloyd thought the waiting, wanting, watching, and needing drove him insane, the doing is about to make it worse. A lot worse.
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[Main Masterlist; Sleepover Masterlist; Lloyd Hansen Masterlist]
A/N: stawp making me love him!!!!
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And so it begins...
@petalj @supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry
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defilerwyrm · 3 months ago
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Hey Tom. After 4 years of self-discovery, questioning, and doubt, of having to prioritize other things and deal with external obstacles, I'm finally going to be starting T either this week or the next. I don't want transitioning to pass me by as just another tick on the to-do list. Do you have any ideas of what I can do to celebrate and/or memorialize the process? And any words of wisdom?
HELL! YES! CONGRATS!
Lemme think, lemme think. A common one is to take periodic recordings of your voice; the traditional line is "This is my voice n [days/weeks/months/etc] on T" so you have a chronological progression. But I'm going to be square with you, there won't likely be ay changes until right around the 3-month mark, so if you're going this route I'd recommend sticking to weekly recordings instead of daily, at least until your voice starts cracking.
Another fun thing is to host a little "late gender reveal" party with some close friends and get a cake or cupcakes with blue (or green, or purple, or whatever gender-indicating color of your choice) icing with "It's A Boy!" (or "It's An Enby!" or whatever suits you best) on it/them to share. Even better if you can rope a friend into cohosting.
Another idea, along the lines of the voice recordings, is weekly selfies from roughly the same angle so you can see the changes in your face over time — the way T changes your jawline, brow, and hair growth. Then after, say, a year, you can make a gif of them for yourself! :D
In terms of words of wisdom: if you're like most guys, the change in your body's scent might bother you at first, but this will become much easier to live with over time — it might even become pleasant. >_> But, for that hypothetical time frame, dye-free antiseptic skin cleanser is going to be your best friend. When regular deoderants and body soaps don't cut the smell, that stuff absolutely will. Just give it about 15 seconds of lather before rinsing and that smell will be GONE.
Also, about 3-6 months in you might start to notice whatever room you're in feels real dam hot all of a sudden. This'll be one of three things: the fact that testosterone moves your comfort zone of temperatures down a few (or many, in some cases) degrees, a hot flash due to the HRT suppressing estrogen and simulating perimenopause, or both at the same time. But hey, this means that if you have an office job, you won't be freezing all the time! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
The hot flashes eventually taper off to nothing, but if you get a total hysterectomy at some point (as in, ovaries removed too), they will come back stronger as your E levels bottom out. This may range from "huh. I guess that's happening" to "omfg I need an ice bath" in severity, but if you're on T for a year+ before the spay, chances are good that they won't be too bad. Those eventually go away completely.
Also: if you're going to be taking injections, an emptied & rinsed-out laundry detergent bottle makes a GREAT sharps box. One of the big ones will last you a couple years, and when you're done with it, you just tape it up, write "SHARPS" on each side, and huck it in the trash — PROVIDED that your local laws allow that. Texas is still a legal wilderness, we just kinda do whatever here, but your area might have stricter guidelines on how to dispose of sharps. Check with your HRT provider or local health administration to be sure!
Also: BD Precision Glide Luer-Lok needles are the best I've ever used. Wonderfully sharp (thus easier & less painful to use), secure once twisted on, and a box of 100 will last you almost 2 years if you inject weekly. I'm sure your prescriber has already told you, but you're gonna want to draw with an 18ga or 20ga needle and then switch to like a 25ga to give yourself the injection. Each box should run you about $20 plus shipping from someplace like allegromedical.com. You don't need a prescription to buy them, at least not in the US.
I also really like BD Luer-Lok General Use Disposable Syringes in the 1 mL model; they're slim so it's easy to draw the right amount, and they're very clear so they're easy to read. Don't do what I did back in '22 and accidentally order 10 CC (10 mL) barrels instead.
Wishing you all the best on this exciting new journey :D :D :D
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oleworm · 5 months ago
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I'm going back to blogging from the computer because, as convenient as smartphones are, typing on a screen is uncomfortable and leads to summarising. I find it more pleasant to read what I've written from my keyboard because it reads more conversational, more present, more personal and less like a Telegram.
I wanted to make a list of what I've discovered works for me personally. I've written most of it on paper, but I wanted to put it here where I can see it and maybe encourage others to do the same for themselves, though I think this is something most of us do when we are more in control of our own decisions.
The only moisturiser that doesn't make me itchy or break out with acne is one formulated for eczema. Washing my face almost every day + using this made my skin less irritated, so I was less prone to touching it with dirty hands, which I believe was causing most of my acne. I don't think a product will fix most people's situation, I think it is a combination of different things. Frequent handwashing, vacuuming, washing bedsheets and pillowcases were important as well, basically not rubbing dirt and grease into patches of skin that were already irritated.
Making a list of tasks every day helps to complete them, I get a feeling of satisfaction whenever I tick one of them in my planner.
Speaking of planners, I found that using smaller ones with daily pages helps me to remember to use them. Last year I had a big and heavy one, it was A4 with a fake leather cover, which looked OK but I couldn't be bothered to put it back on my desktop to write in it after I had put it away. I mostly used it to keep track of expenses, not proper task lists.
Since I started using fountain pens again, I've written more than I did in the past several years. Like with the planner it helps to have something you like to use. The problem is to stay focused enough when it comes to digitising and editing. It requires a different kind of focus as it is an act of translation from my own internal dialect to an explanation that others would understand. Some phrases and images serve as shorthand for others, if anyone tried to type anything for me I would still have to rewrite it because there would be many things that haven't been included or expanded on yet. But it is so easy to get distracted on the computer. In fact I have almost finished with one but for whatever reason decided to write this instead.
I have discovered that the reason I get so tired and sleepy is that I haven't been eating enough. I assumed it would be part of it, but I had been eating 1300 calories or thereabouts, it turns out, which couldn't have been good for my brain. I've been using a food tracker in the past few days aiming to get about 2000, and if I'm lazy or don't like anything I have at home I can get cereal or milk and Nesquik until I can make a proper meal.
Making my bed every day--I won't say it's mandatory for anyone, but it bothers me to see that it's messy. I always make my bed and open my curtains to create a marker for the start of the day. This way I tell myself I can start doing things, and not just sit around reading nonsense on my phone.
I've made the decision not to miss anything I willingly signed up for. If I stayed up too late the night before I still do my best to wake up with the alarm, and if I'm still sleepy after that I can take a nap later. I know that I won't be happy with myself if I miss an activity I enjoy just because I made the choice not to plan ahead properly.
Speaking of choice. Every day I'm grateful that I have my health, but because of that, if I don't do something that I wanted to do, and later I feel disappointed, it is a mistake on my part that can be improved upon. I ask myself, What happened? Why did I, or didn't I, act this way or another? Would I like to do a similar thing in the future? If not, how to prevent it? How to prepare for it? I don't speak poorly of myself, only set down rules, at least I try to, and prepare strategies for the occasion. There are circumstances that make me angry, but it is not helpful for me to focus on others when there are so many aspects of my life that I can control.
When I read something annoying I want to let it pass over me. I do not like the person I become when I become focused on what some stranger said online, someone who means nothing to me and who might not be a real person, or who might have been influenced or hired to promote certain ideas. If it is that important I will write my own post but not sicken my liver over it.
If I am annoyed and it's not because I'm hungry it's most likely because it's time to use my eye drops. If you have dry eyes please don't forget to use your artificial tears!
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silverskull · 1 year ago
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hey can you do a future fic where Angela speaks at Tim’s wedding as his “best women” and the speech be emotional as fuckkkkk
This prompt was just too enthusiastic to pass up. Thank you, Nonnie. I know you sent this on the FIRST OF JANUARY, but better late than never… eh? It took a little gear grinding, but I eventually got back into the writing flow!
Full fic below the cut, or HERE on AO3 (kudos, comments and reblogs loved and adored! 💖)
“I don’t give a damn.”
“You give so many damns they’re visible from space.”
Tim rolled his eyes at Angela, working hard not to choke on his mouthful of coffee at the same time. She might be right, but it would never do to let her actually know that she was. He set his mug down on his office desk, studiously ignoring her, and shuffling through the manila folders in his inbox instead.
“Are you inviting Talia?”
“She’s on the list.”
“Good. Then she’ll get this.”
Angela chewed the end of her pen thoughtfully, staring at the writing in the incongruously pink notebook in her other hand. She seemed to come to some sort of conclusion, nodding firmly, before scribbling rapidly on the next blank page. She’d made herself perfectly at home in Tim’s office, slouched in the chair opposite his desk, one leg slung lazily over the armrest, and there didn’t seem to be any way for him to remove her without physically ejecting the entire chair from the room.
It was his own fault, really.
He could have chosen anyone - Thorsen would have done whatever he asked, and, given his history, probably funded the entire endeavour just for the privilege. Genny was an obvious option, or even one of his nephews - the role would have been ceremonial, and Tim could still have control over everything. Lucy had actually suggested Grey, who would have been perfect… if only Tim hadn’t already asked Angela.
And now she had inserted herself into what seemed like his every waking moment, alternatively referring to herself as his ‘Best Woman’, ‘Groom's Girl’, ‘Chief Chick’, or, with what was becoming frightening regularity, ‘Maid of Awesomeness’.
“I’m definitely running with the ‘hot pants’ joke,” Angela concluded aloud, ticking a section of the page with visible satisfaction.
Tim fixed his eyes on his computer screen, scrolling blindly through the afternoon’s unread emails.
“Do whatever you want. I’ve told you: I don’t give a damn.”
“Oh but you will,” Angela drawled, glancing up at him from the corner of her eye. “You. Will.”
***
“...and he says ‘hot pants?’, right? Like a question! Like he didn’t just completely ignore the paragraphs about it in the group chat a few months earlier! The full-on emoji text chains! The links to several unquestionable websites! So, the bachelorette squad comes as a complete shock to him when he rolls up to us in the shop at two am!”
Angela had the crowd practically crying with laughter, and Tim could see Noah and June lurching with mirth in their chairs, slapping the table, the crystal champagne glasses on the surface ringing with the vibration. Under their own table, he slipped his hand around Lucy’s waist, settling his fingers against the lace dress covering her upper thighs. He pressed his nose against her neck, burying his embarrassment in the curls of her hair, and she raised her hand to his cheek, holding him close as her giggles bubbled low in her throat, tingling against the skin on his lips.
“Ignore her,” she whispered.
“Absolutely not,” he replied, pinching her thigh mischievously and raising his lips to her ear. “She’s right. I missed a lot. In fact, I think I’m going to need a thorough revision course. And, you’ll remember, I learn best by doing.”
Lucy snorted, her cheeks turning an alluring shade of pink, and she slapped him on the chest, shoving him firmly away from her. He moved with her, rolling back and smirking, then sliding his hand up to her neck. Her smiling lips were too good to resist, and he drew her towards him for a quick kiss, resting his nose against hers and letting her eyes blur into warm, brown pools before him.
“And as sickeningly lovey-dovey as they are today, you might be surprised to learn that it wasn’t always this way…” Angela tapped her notecards pointedly on the mic stand and Tim heard Bailey stifle a giggle at the table in front of them. He straightened his jacket with one hand, clearing his throat and turning ever-so-slightly away from Lucy and towards Angela.
Angela narrowed her eyes at him, tossing her hair over one shoulder and turning back to the crowd.
“It was hard to say, at first, which one of them annoyed the other more. Smart money would have been on Tim - the hardass TO with a record number of washouts. The man loves a challenge, and finding flaws in the knowledge of one of the brightest young things to graduate the Academy this decade was like catnip for him. He couldn’t resist tormenting her.”
Tim could see Bailey again, turning to Nolan beside her and raising her eyebrows quizzically. Nolan shook his head and dropped it into his hands, massaging a point on his forehead as if the memory was physically hurting him. Tim grinned.
“But Lucy didn’t just roll over and take it,” Angela continued, interrupting Tim’s hazy memory of Lucy, framed outside the passenger window of their shop and hurrying alongside him while the sun beat mercilessly down on her long, wool sleeves. “Oh no. Lucy Chen gave the betting pool a run for their money. Am I right, Smitty? Not that there’s a betting pool in the office or anything, Sarge…” Angela pursed her lips and frowned in feigned seriousness at Grey, who, like Nolan, now also had his eyes covered. It did nothing to put a halt to Angela’s gallop.
“This woman stole her training officer's wallet - picked his damn pocket in the middle of a brawl, and kept it secret until he realised he couldn’t pay for his dinner. She abandoned him with her beer tab on Plain Clothes Day, detonated powder in his face the night she made P2, and bribed her way into short sleeves by setting him up on a successful date. By the way - hey, Rachel! Long time, no see.” Angela waved airily at a table near the back of the room, while Tim tried, unsuccessfully, to keep a straight face. Lucy had thrown her head back in gales of laughter, one hand pressed to her chest, where his engagement ring glinted and glimmered in the reflected light of the chandeliers.
It drew his eyes to the gold wedding band just below it, freshly polished and perfectly sized. He was reaching for her hand before he even realised what he was doing, stroking his thumb along the smooth metal and drawing her knuckles to his lips. She curled her fingers around his, tipping her head towards him and letting him pull her close.
This - this moment here with her, in front of their friends and family - was worth a thousand of her powder bombs. A million.
He’d pay her back, of course. 
But he’d take as good as he gave - something he hadn’t even realised about himself until he met Lucy. Who’d have thought he could make it to his late thirties, through a troubled childhood, two tours in the Middle East, and a broken marriage, and still have things to learn about himself? So many years spent weaving his tough, protective cocoon, building up the hard-knocks and hard-laughs persona that culminated in TO Bradford, only to find the catalyst for his metamorphosis right there in the passenger’s seat of his shop.
His bride. His wife.
His Lucy.
“But, despite the friction, they settled into an easy rhythm. I saw it, slowly falling into place. Bishop too. Harper had all sorts of blatant and inappropriate questions when she joined the team.” Angela winked at Nyla, who raised her glass in response, a sly grin hidden behind the crystal rim. “And I know he’ll never admit it, but I don’t doubt that Sergeant Grey saw exactly where this was headed long before any of the rest of us. Sir, you’re practically psychic when it comes to teaming people up, and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”
Celina was nodding along with Angela’s words, her eyes wide and her mouth tight with reserved laughter. Luna was whispering in her ear, and Grey was trying - and failing - to speed Angela up with a raised finger, circling in the air.
“And we joke. We do. We have good times in our Mid-Wilshire family.” Angela paused as calls of ‘hear hear’ echoed throughout the room and glasses were lifted in an agreeable toast. “But things haven’t always been easy. Not for us. Not for Lucy and Tim. We’ve had our tragedies, and we’ve lost good people along the way. I’d like to direct your attention, and ask you to raise your glasses, to the couple’s ‘In Memoriam’ shrine, and particularly our colleagues… our friends: Captain Zoe Anderson and Officer Jackson West.” 
Quiet murmurs rustled through the crowd as people twisted in their seats to look for the little table Lucy had insisted on setting up near the front of the room. Small flickering tealights and loose white petals artfully surrounded framed pictures of their friends, and it felt, for a moment, as if the ceiling lights above them dimmed and the happy faces of Jackson, Captain Andersen and the others beamed brighter, smiling their approval through the insubstantially thin veil that separated them.
Lucy turned to Tim then, dipping her head against his shoulder and dropping his hand to swipe her own fingers across her cheek. He caught the momentary sheen of tears below her lashes, and he wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, pulling her closer to him and into the space below his shoulder where she fit just-so. He felt her hand stretch up along his back, latching onto his neck for support, and he raised his lips to her forehead, dropping a comforting kiss onto the crown of her head.
“I can tell you - if either of them were with us today, I wouldn’t be up here entertaining you all by myself. Both Jackson and Captain Andersen would have had plenty to say about this particular turn of events.” Angela smirked at Tim again, and he heard Lucy give a constricted laugh from her perch at his shoulder.
“But that’s not to say that it was entirely unexpected. These two have been through their fair share - more than fair, even - of troubles. Neither of you-” she turned to wave her notecards at both Lucy and Tim “-have seen the other when one of you is missing. And it’s a testament to your flair for thrill-seeking that this has happened more than once.”
“Bad-Luck magnets!” Smitty yelled, from the back of the hall.
Angela allowed a brief chuckle to pass through the crowd before she became solemn again.
“But seriously. You’ve come through the worst things life could throw at you - anyone’s worst fears - and you’ve come out stronger for it. We’ve all witnessed it. Tim, I know you would move heaven and earth for Lucy; and hell would freeze over before Lucy would leave Tim behind. It’s inspirational. It’s powerful. And it’s a little scary, not gonna lie.”
Tim allowed himself a quick laugh, tightening his grip around Lucy’s waist, and imagining the sparkle of her moonstone ring on the fingers gently combing through the hairs on the back of his head. She leaned closer to him, her cheek resting just above the collar of his dress shirt, and he pushed away the thoughts, dark and intrusive, of what his life would be like if he hadn’t found that ring. If she hadn’t thought to drop it for him. If the trust between them wasn’t so strong, so unshakeable, that it kept her believing he’d come for her, even as her own breath slowly started to poison her and the sun sank low over the endless, barren desert, leaving him chasing the shadows of his own fear.
A cold shiver ran down his spine, and Lucy, ever observant, sat up, tilting her head to catch his eye with a quizzical brow. He gave a small shake of the head, raising his hand from her waist to her neck, and he brushed his lips against her forehead again, steadying himself with her warmth, her fragrance, and her proximity.
She was here. She was here. She was here, and she was safe and they were surrounded by support and love, and that was all that mattered.
Lucy settled back against his side as Angela continued, and Tim let his hand drift along the cool skin of her arm and down into its home on the curve of her hip.
“All of which brings us neatly back to Hot Pants here, and her lovely husband, Handsy.”
The crowd erupted into laughter, partly at Angela’s nonchalant delivery, partly in relief at being back from the brink of horrors past. Tim reached for his glass and took a fortifying sip of his champagne, as Lucy, amused, tapped her thumb at the base of his neck.
“You know, for all I said earlier about the inevitability of this whole relationship, I think there are a couple of people that deserve the real credit for finally propelling these two numbskulls into action. Raise a glass with me, if you will, for Jake Butler, RIP, and Sava Wu, MIA.”
A split in the crowd quickly became apparent, with the Mid-Wilshire gang laughing and toasting energetically, while their friends from outside the station clinked glasses in confusion, with puzzled looks and whispered questions.
“It’s a shame LA CLEAR shut down the airing of that documentary for operational security reasons,” Angela continued “But for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, suffice it to say that these two dummies had to go undercover together -  to Las Vegas, of all places - and they thought a solid method of preparation was to get together and practise. kissing.”
Uproarious laughter filled the room, and, at her table, Tamara dropped her head onto her hands, her eyes squeezed shut and her shoulders shaking with laughter. Tim could feel his cheeks grow red again, and he turned to Lucy, who was also giggling, one elbow resting on his shoulder, with the back of her hand covering her mouth. She glanced at him, her eyes sparkling beneath her dark lashes, and he suddenly found that he didn’t care what anyone else thought. This whole room could yuck it up together at his expense, but he was the only one who Lucy looked at like that. The only one who got to kiss her lips, and cradle her hips and inhale the scent of the skin in the well of her collarbones.
The only one who got to wear her ring.
“None of us were ever privy to exactly what went on after that. There was a little bit of separation, some partner reshuffling, and a lot of stupidly longing glances across the bullpen - yes, we all saw you,” Angela addressed this last part directly to Tim and Lucy, rolling her eyes before turning back to the mic. “But somehow or other, before we knew it, we were all conniving to bump Tim out of Lucy’s chain of command, and the two of them started arriving to work, more often than not, in the same vehicle.”
Angela paused to take a drink from her champagne flute, and the crowd waited patiently, eager to hear what secrets she’d spill next. Tim felt Lucy’s foot stroke the back of his calf, hidden from sight beneath the draped folds of the tablecloth, and he cleared his throat and tried, heroically, to focus his attention back on Angela.
“And somehow, all of that has led us here, today. To this room and this celebration. It’s been a long road, with plenty of obstacles, and I don’t doubt that you two will have more to come. All I can wish for you is this: May the road rise to meet you, and the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face. May the rain fall softly on the field of your love, and until we meet again-” Angela turned to lift her glass to the crowd, who, by some unspoken agreement, had decided to rise to their feet and raise their glasses in response. “May you be safe. May you be cherished. And may you always be this loved. To Tim and Lucy!”
The crowd repeated Angela’s toast, cheering and clapping for them, and Tim felt the uncanny sensation that his heart was about to burst out of his chest. His breath was tight, his eyes unexpectedly blurry, and it took Lucy’s hand on his jaw, physically turning him towards her, to snap him out of it.
He had a brief glimpse of her face, beaming with happiness, her eyes locked on his, before she pulled him down for a kiss. Their lips met, soft and warm and champagne-sweet, and the rush of blood in his ears slowed to match the steady rhythm of the pulse below her skin. He inhaled deeply, vanilla frosting and floral bouquet and Lucy - just Lucy - warm and familiar and ever inviting. He kissed her again, quickly, smiling, then hooked her fingers through his own, guiding her upright and presenting her to their friends with a flourish.
The cheering increased in volume, Thorsen’s sharp wolf-whistle piercing through the applause, and Tim took a moment to nod towards Angela. She winked at him, dropping her notecards into her clutch, and he mouthed a silent ‘thank you’.
He’d made the right choice, with her, after all.
And as Lucy tugged on his hand, turning him towards her for yet another public kiss, he couldn’t help feeling like he’d made the right choice over and over again; finally finding his place in the world. His people. His family. The loving home he’d been searching for ever since he was a small boy.
And here, now, with those same friends and family, and Lucy - his Lucy - he allowed himself to celebrate that home. To let his friends cheer as he made his vows and placed his ring and kissed his wife.
His love.
His life.
His forever.
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little-mouse-adventures · 2 years ago
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A Timeline of Events in the Artemis Fowl Series
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If anyone's interested, I did do an actual analysis for where I pulled some of these dates from. But because I cannot type succinctly to save my life, it's 5,000 words long, so that's below the cut. I also put the timeline there again, but in three separate images, so hopefully they load well enough to be fully legible if the above isn't.
A thousand thanks to @sadbitchapologist and @zahnie for their help and advice with this, despite neither of them having any more than the barest interest in the series and therefore having no clue what I was on about. Thanks also to @orangerosebush for fielding completely out-of-the-blue questions about the French school system, so I didn't have to attempt to navigate web search results to figure out what mandatory gym classes were like for the sole purpose of plotting Luc's birthday on here.
An Analysis of the Timelines in the Artemis Fowl Series
A Brief Introduction
The Artemis Fowl series is made up of eight books covering a range of years and events. I wanted to see how accurate the timelines present in the books were, as well as try and plot out some other details implied in the novels but not explicitly stated, to have a better understanding of the overall world-building. To that end, I went through the series and made the above timeline. I colour-coded it based on the relevance of the specific items to certain categories, namely Humans, Fairies, Villains, and the Series itself. This does mean that some things could have fit into multiple categories. For instance, you will see some items involving Opal categorized as Fairy-Specific (such as her college years, as those are fairly neutral to the main plot or her villainy), Villain-Specific (such as her setting up her emergency fund, as that is mostly related to her schemes as opposed to relevant to her existence as a fairy, or part of the main plot of the series), and Plot-Specific (such as her opening the Berserker Gate, the primary plot point for the final book).
Before we really delve into things though, we should establish the baseline assumptions I was working with. Firstly, I am only using the original series. I have not used anything written in The Fowl Twins trilogy, given that those books seem to ret-con a considerable amount of the original information, and that is far too many headaches to give myself. Any supplemental series information, such as the short stories found in The Artemis Fowl Files, or anything from interviews is also not included. The premise here is: using just the original books, what is the event timeline of the world? The second thing we need to establish is that I am using the North American releases of the novels. I did make notes on where each bit of information comes from, but there isn’t really a citation style for this kind of thing, so I’m not sure how relevant that is. The third assumption is that the first book takes place the year it was originally published. According to my copy, the original publication was 2001, with the first American paperback edition coming out in 2002, and the first mass market paperback being released in 2003. This means our starting point is in 2001.
For sake of clarity, this analysis will start with setting the dates of the books and continue on from there.
The Basics of The Books
With that out of the way, let’s talk about the first book, Artemis Fowl (AF). It is actually not until the very end of the book that we get a solid answer for when it takes place. It’s only in the last few pages of the novel that Angeline Fowl leaves her attic room after all the plot points are tied up and announces that it is Christmas Day. This might be cause for concern – Angeline had not previously been established as a particularly reliable narrator – but given that we are asked to believe that Holly’s ‘feel better’ mood booster worked, and that neither Butler nor Artemis balk at or question the pronouncement that is Christmas Day, we’ll accept that it’s true and move on. This means that, with Butler’s earlier announcement that he was stuck doing four months of stakeout, we can say with a fair amount of certainty that Artemis obtained and translated the Fairy Book in September 2001, and managed to capture a fairy in December of the same year.
Moving on to Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incident (TAI), we are given a decent chunk of information, albeit spread out a bit. The first is the announcement that the ransom drop for Artemis Fowl I is to be held on the fourteenth. The fourteenth of what, you might ask? Well, we are told that Artemis is currently thirteen years old. Clearly, things are past September 1, 2002 (we know Artemis’s birthday is September 1 based on information in both the fifth and seventh books). We are also told that Luc Carrere has been trading with the goblins for six months, starting in July. That puts us in either December or January, but we can narrow it down further since Artemis gives us another helpful clue. He mentions they are not expecting to see the dawn while attempting to rescue his father in the Arctic. There are only a few latitudes on Earth where polar night (of any type) occurs, and at Murmansk, polar twilight occurs between December 10 – January 2. Combining all of this, we learn that TAI takes place December 14, 2002, give or take a few days to either side.
This can be corroborated by information in Book 3, Artemis Fowl: The Eternity Code (TEC). After Holly heals Artemis Senior, we are told that it takes over two months for him to wake up. Since we are specifically told two months, as opposed to two and a half or three, we can conclude that the events of TEC take place in March 2003. Mulch gives us some information that confirms this. He was living in LA “less than four months ago,” and since he was conscripted to help with the events of TAI in December, a March plotline fits the bill. We are given further confirmation as well: Spiro mentions that Artemis will be fourteen in six months. A specific date for Artemis & Co.’s attack on Spiro’s Needle can be pulled from the throw-away line that Pex and Chips are “burying” Mulch on the full moon. A quick web search tells us that the full moon in March of 2003 takes place on March 14, and the rest of the events in the novel take place roughly two days to either side of that.
In Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception (TOD), the fourth book in the series, we are given several very clear indications of when the events take place. Firstly, Artemis is contemplating that at fourteen years and three months old, he is the youngest person to successfully obtain The Fairy Thief. Based on previously noted details that his birthday is in September, the events of TOD must take place in December of 2003. Additionally, we are told that things are the middle of winter and Opal has been in a coma for eleven months and counting as of the end of TAI, another December plot.
Artemis Fowl: The Lost Colony (TLC) requires the most math and interpretation so far to figure out when it takes place. We know Artemis is still fourteen, so the main events clearly happen sometime between January 2004 and September 2004. Beyond that, we are using a fair amount of context clues. Artemis and Butler have evidently been traveling for four months looking for demons, so we are dealing with events in at least May. But that still leaves us several summertime months to work with, so to establish a timeline here, we will need to look forward a bit. In the sixth book, Artemis Fowl: The Time Paradox (TTP), it’s noted that Artemis is not yet fifteen, and has, on multiple occasions, spent the full moon in the study. Ergo, he’s spent at least a few months back from Hybras. If he has been back for two months and not yet turned fifteen, he would have had to have returned by July at the latest, and since he returns almost three years later than he leaves, we are looking at him returning in either May or June. This would have him disappearing to Hybras – and by extension, dealing with the earlier events in the book – in June, July, or August. After his conversation with Minerva, he notes to Butler that they “are planning a June wedding,” which wouldn’t make sense to say if they were currently in the month of June. From all of this, we can extrapolate that the first three-quarters of TLC take place in late July or early August 2004, with the triumphant return of our intrepid heroes occurring in June 2007.
As previously stated, TTP mentions that Artemis is still not fifteen, but is nearly there. He has also been home again for at least two months. This would put the events of the sixth book in August 2007. At least, the events set in the current time period. TTP does bring back time travel, and with it some problems. We are told that Artemis and Holly jump back nearly eight years to Artemis being ten and trying to fund searches for his missing father. This would put the events of the past in early 2000. However, other details presented regarding Artemis Senior’s disappearance, which we will discuss later, make that impossible. Artemis also admits, in TEC, that he was eleven when his father disappeared, not ten. If we take a bit of creative license with our interpretations and base the time-jump to the past on other presented information as opposed to the dates given in TTP, we can say that Holly and Artemis instead return to early 2001. This lines up with further details, such as the sinking of the Fowl Star (as calculated a few paragraphs down in this analysis) occurring in December of 2000, and the textual confirmation in TTP that it’s barely two months past that sinking when Artemis brokers the deal(s) regarding the silky sifaka lemur. Since, at the end of the day, the time jump impacts very little in the grand scheme of things, and the year 2001 actually fits in better with other textual evidence and events, that’s what I’m going with for this timeline.
The seventh book, Artemis Fowl: The Atlantis Complex (TAC) gives us a very helpful base point! It takes place on Artemis’s fifteenth birthday, September 1. From our previous results on setting dates for book events, that would be September 1, 2007. The sections in which Butler and Juliet are fighting mesmerized wrestling fans and meeting up with Mulch are noted in the novel as happening “the day before,” which would fall on August 31, 2007.
Artemis Fowl: The Last Guardian (TLG), the eighth and final book in the series, creates some problems. If we assume that Artemis starts receiving treatment for his Atlantis Complex immediately after diagnosis in TAC¸ that would put him receiving treatment in September 2007. We are told he is certified as cured after six months. Yet we are also told that the rest of the events of the book take place in the week or so leading up to the Christmas holidays. Everything so far has said that the Artemis Fowl series follows the current calendar, in which case there is no way that six months can fit between September 1, 2007 and December 25, 2007. However, the only reference to Christmas is in two lines noting that the Fowl parents were planning on holidaying with their children on a foreign beach. If we simply say that six months have passed, and they are instead planning on spending the Irish school system’s spring holidays in the French Riviera, everything else lines up much better. So that’s what I’ve done. This would also put the resurrection of Artemis, after the events of the book and a further six months have passed, at roughly September of 2008. There is a pleasing symmetry to Artemis being born and then re-born in September, though if you want to get really technical and say the events of TLG take place during the 2008 March full moon as Opal claims (as noted in another web search as March 28), a six-month wait time for the clone to grow would put the resurrection in October. Still, there is something to be said for having a boy’s ghost haunting a clone of himself close to All Hallows. Since it’s the last plot point of the series, you can choose which you’d like; it doesn’t have to lead to anything else after it.
Let’s Talk Timelines: The Beginning of the Line to The End of The 19th Century
Now that we have our baseline book time periods established, we can get into the math used to determine some of the events in the timeline above. Several events are easy; we are given specific dates for them. Turnball Root meets Leonor in 1938, Juliet wins the Miss Sugar Beet Fair beauty contest in 1999. Other things are based on some basic math, such as Artemis claiming his parents got married fourteen years prior to AF¸ putting that event in 1987.
The majority of the items on the above timeline, however, do take some mathematics, extrapolation, and interpretation to plot out. To try and keep everything organized, we’ll start at the far left of the timeline, and work our way forwards, looking at events oldest-to-newest to explain why they are where they are on the graph. I won’t be getting too in-depth on everything in the graph, since I’m not sure how relevant the notes on the very minor side characters such as Carla Frazetti are, but I’ll at least try to touch on some of the more relevant points.
To start with, the Battle of Taillte was noted in the 2000’s as being ten thousand years ago, putting that at 8000 BCE. Similarly, the last dome breach at Atlantis was apparently eight thousand years ago in the 2000’s, so that would be 6000 BCE. Troll sideshows were legal in the early middle ages, which implies they were not legal after that. A quick web search says the early middle ages ended around 1000. The first crusades were in 1096-1099, and as those crusades are the start point of the Butler-Fowl working relationship, a point for noting that comes next on the graph.
From there, we get into more modern – relatively speaking – events. Briar Cudgeon and Julius Root are noted as attending the LEP Academy together and being raised in the same tunnel, as well as having about 600 years of history together. If one assumes “being raised in the same tunnel” is similar to the human equivalent of “growing up in the same neighbourhood,” we can assume the two were born roughly 600 years ago, in the 1400’s. Vinyaya is portrayed as being of a similar age to Root, so her birth can also be put in the same general era. We are also told that Fowl Manor was originally a castle built in the fifteenth century, that in the early 2000’s the theories of timeline corruption were first introduced over five centuries ago, and that cloning has been banned for over five hundred years, so those three events are also tossed into the 1400’s.
Julius Root is noted as doing his LEP basic training 500 years ago in Ireland, so that would have to be in the 1500’s. He would have attended the Academy before then, putting that in the mid-to-late 1400’s. As previously stated, he was in the Academy with Cudgeon. Opal also met Cudgeon in college, and competed with Foaly for science prizes there, so they were all in school at the same time.
Mulch now enters the picture. We aren’t ever given a specific age range for him, but we are told about his career. He has, apparently, spent three centuries in and out of prison after a couple centuries of success as a thief. This would make him at least five hundred years old. There is a brief mention that he tried the athletic route at college before becoming a thief, so he would have to be an adult at that point, putting his age at roughly 550 years during the events of the series.
We then enter a period filled in from one-off lines throughout the series, presumably added to give some depth to the world. Things about the wine cellar at Fowl Manor being a seventeenth century addition, Captain Eusebius Fowl and his crew dying in the eighteenth century, and Mulch first faking his own death over two hundred years ago.
Time Marches On: The 20th Century
There is nothing of much relevance to linger on between the 1550’s and the 20th century, so we’ll jump ahead to the 1900’s, when we have Holly Short’s birthday. She is in her eighties during TLC, and her father died “over twenty years ago” when she was “barely sixty” as of TAI. Based on that, she would have been in her early eighties in 2002, putting her birthday sometime in the 1920’s. What a doll.
A few more birthdays now appear, and we’ll ignore, for the most part, some of the irrelevant ones. I don’t think we are at all concerned with Gaspard Paradizo’s birthday, or Mikhael Vassikin. We are, however, rather more interested in Jon Spiro, Domovoi Butler, and Artemis Fowl I.
Jon Spiro enters the series in TEC, as a middle-aged American. A quick search on the Internet says that middle age is generally noted as being between the ages of 40 to 60. We are told that Spiro has worked in three main industries over the past two and a half decades. Additionally, we are told that law enforcement has been “trying to put [him] away for thirty years.” If we assume he entered the working world at twenty, spent five years developing his professional self, and then started going down a path of questionable legality to get the police after him, that would put him at fifty-five in 2003, and born in the late 1940’s.
It was a bit easier to determine Domovoi Butler’s age, and we can get more specific with his actual birthday. We are told that he is forty at the start of TEC, and he is still forty during TOD. From that, we can assume his birthday is not between March – December, which means it has to be between January – March. Now, we can just leave things there, but contextually, Butler says in late March 2003 that “a lot of people know [him] as a forty-year old man.” Since I doubt he’s the kind of person who introduces himself by announcing that his birthday was last week, we can assume that his birthday is not in March. Since about half the books in the series take place in December, and there is never any mention of Butler’s birthday coming up soon, we can likely assume it isn’t in January. We can therefore conclude Butler was born in February, 40 years before 2003, which puts his birth year in 1963.
We then have Artemis Fowl I. This one took the most extrapolation to determine. We know he has run an ethical empire for a few years as of 2007, which coincides with his return to his family after being kidnapped by the Mafia. He apparently ran a successful criminal empire for two decades before that, though, so in 2007 he has been working for at least 25 years. Based on the interactions he had with his own son, I’ve assumed he was also taught to take over the family business from a young age. If he started working at his age of majority at 18 (as possible in the 1980’s in Ireland, based on a web search), we can assume he was born in roughly the mid 60’s.
Billy Kong, born Jonah Lee, is one to touch on. He plays a large role in TLC, during which we are given possibly the most backstory of any villain in the series. He was evidently born in the early 1970’s, and was eight years old in the early 1980’s. Mathematically, that can only lend itself to so many birth years, so it’s easy enough to put his birthdate somewhere in 1973, and his brother’s death date in 1981.
While we’re here, let’s talk about the 1980’s. A lot of things happen in the 80’s, so we’ll be here for a few paragraphs. Butler would have graduated Madam Ko’s Academy in the early ‘80s, Artemis I would have started working in his family’s business and stolen some warrior mummies (of note, the theft is only noted as being in Artemis Sr.’s “gangster days,” but if you are a young, rich criminal, you’d likely commit a wild theft in your early years as opposed to your thirties, which is why this is put in here). Additionally, in the mid 1980’s, Holly graduates the LEP Academy and her mother dies, as noted in TTP when she is contemplating missing three years of her friends lives.
Butler would have started his five-year stint in Russia with an espionage unit in the mid-to-late 80’s, and become a big brother in 1985. Juliet is noted at being four years older than Artemis in AF in 2001, and he is twelve then, making her sixteen at the time. We can extrapolate the month from TEC, wherein she is apparently eighteen when she is called regarding her brother’s apparent death. At the time, we are told what gifts she received for her birthday, implying it was fairly recent. Additionally, Artemis was only thirteen at that time, which would make Juliet five years older than Artemis. If, however, we trust that acolytes at Madam Ko’s start their training on their tenth birthday and get one chance to graduate per year, it would make sense for that one chance to be on their birthday, or within a day or two to allow for as much training time as possible. Since Juliet was in the midst of this one graduation evaluation when she gets the phone call and joins the crew for the March heist at Spiro’s Needle, she’d have to be born in March. (We can also corroborate this with some details from AF: if AF  takes place in mid-September, that would be just after Artemis’s birthday, which puts the 4-year age difference back into play.)
Spelltropy begins for the People in 1987, if it appeared 20 years ago from 2007. Artemis I and Angeline Fowl would get married in 1987. They would have their first child, Artemis Fowl II, in 1989, as calculated by Artemis being twelve during the initial siege of the Manor in December 2001. Artemis II’s grandfather was noted as having been dead for over ten years at that point, and it was mentioned in TEC that Angeline married her husband before he really took over the family business, so those events would likely happen when Artemis was but a baby in 1990.
The ‘90s are a period where a lot of things are happening, but few are particularly important. Spelltropy has a cure found, Minerva Paradizo is born, Juliet begins her bodyguard training and her brother refuses to let her shave her hair. These, and other events in the 90’s, are mostly calculated by math along the lines of “Event A happened X number of years ago,” but since the 90’s was mostly a time of worldbuilding events rather than plot events, we’ll just skim over the specific details.
‘You Are Here’: The 21st Century, and Where The Storytelling Begins
Welcome to the 2000’s! The kick-off point of not only the 2000’s, but also the entire series, is the sinking of the Fowl Star. We aren’t given a specific date for this, but we are given enough information to extrapolate the date. Specifically, in September 2001, in AF, we are told Fowl Sr. has been missing for almost a year. In TAI, in December, we are told he has been missing for almost two years. That does have the potential to have the ship go down in either December or January, so we need to use a bit more details from TAI to make a final determination. Mikhael Vassikin and Kamar were told to dump Fowl’s body in the Kola if he didn’t wake up in “another year,” so they’ve been looking after him for one at that point. Fowl Sr. wakes up two weeks before the deadline, and as noted earlier, the ransom drop for him takes place December 14, after he has been awake for perhaps a week. From that, we can tell that the deadline for “another year” was mid to late December, putting the initial sinking of the Fowl Star in late 2000.
The analysis gets a bit confusing at this point, because 2001 is when future Artemis and Holly join the party via time travel, as well as having their regular selves in the timestream. Essentially, we’ve established the timeline for the events of TTP above, so we know the whole lemur fiasco takes place in March 2001. Artemis wakes up at the end of that book thinking about fairies, which ties in rather neatly to him then dragging Butler across three continents for six false alarms (with an assumed approximate 3 weeks between each jaunt) before striking metaphorical gold in Ho Chi Minh City in September. During their time-traveling, Holly also gets a chance to talk to Root, who wonders why she isn’t in Hamburg, which was noted in AF as Holly’s first major failure as a Recon officer and was nearly preceding the events of AF. The time-traveling would also mean that Opal would have had to harvest her DNA for future diabolical plans before March 2001, when her younger self travels to the future. Since it takes up to two years to grow a clone to adulthood, and her clone has to be ready in September 2003, we are a few months off in the time requirements, but really, for a practice that’s been outlawed for 500 years, I can offer a bit of leeway.
We are now well and truly in the thick of the main events of the series. Most of this will be tied into the initial assessments we made way at the beginning of this essay, where we established when each book occurs. Because of this, we aren’t going to spend time on anything plot-related. However, a brief note on Turnball Root and Artemis’s Atlantis Complex is likely in order. Artemis was, as previously stated, dealing with his return from Hybras and the after-effects of stealing magic during July and August of 2007. His Atlantis Complex, and Turnball Root’s plan to escape the Deeps prison, are in full swing in September of that year. We have a brief note in TAC during the evacuation of Atlantis, that Turnball had, a month before, spied on Artemis and noted his Atlantis Complex developing. Therefore, Artemis’s Complex likely came into play in late July or early August 2007. This is close enough to Artemis’s magic theft to make sense for the deterioration of his mental health, and enough time for Butler to have started to notice something was wrong, as he did. We can therefore assume that Atlantis Complex, at least in the case of magic-stealing humans who have a propensity for time travel and getting involved in supremely complicated and improbable plots, develops relatively quickly.
This leaves just one major discussion point from the last few books: the age of Artemis’s twin brothers, Beckett and Myles. The twins are first introduced at the very end of TLC. They are written as being two during the events of TTP, three during the events of TAC, and four during the events of TLG. Regardless of the time-traveling shenanigans of their elder brother, it is impossible for the twins to age two years in the eight months between Artemis’s return from Hybras in June 2007 and the finale of the series in March of 2008, so we need to look at what makes sense.
Myles has already potty-trained himself, and done so at fourteen months, so they must be at least that old. Their other behaviours would make sense for them to be two in TTP. Diapers are still a part of their lives, and their language and vocabulary fit what a two-year-old would have, at least in Beckett’s case. Since Artemis was surprised by their existence, it doesn’t seem likely that  Angeline would have known she was pregnant, or at least not have told Artemis yet, when he went to Limbo. Ergo, they can’t be any older than two, since (one would hope) Artemis would have noticed his mother’s pregnancy if the twins were any older.
Additionally, in TLG, we know Artemis gave his brother a birthday present, so he had to have been around during the twin’s birthday at least once. With this fact, the twins cannot be born between March – June, which just leaves the question of when are the twins born?
 The most logical answer is February 2005. If Angeline was early on in her pregnancy, say six weeks (which is when most women start noticing symptoms), when Artemis disappeared in July 2004, she wouldn’t necessarily have told him yet. Then, if we assume that since most twin births occur around the 35-week mark, that would math out to having the twins be born in February of 2005. Fast forward, and they would turn one in February 2006, and two in February 2007, which puts them at the correct age for the events of TTP. [One could argue, of course, that a twin pregnancy in an older woman (unfortunately, there is nothing in the series to indicate Angeline’s age) and in a woman already dealing with significant stress could result in a very premature birth, thereby voiding any of this math and leaving the whole question of the twin’s birthday unanswered. However, since I’d rather not subject the Fowl parents to the strife and misery of having one son missing and presumed dead, and their younger children in the NICU with a low survival rate, I’m working with the assumption that the pregnancy was a healthy and normal one.]
The brief comment from Juliet in TAC about the twins being three can be passed off by them being a little over two-and-a-half and Juliet not being around as she is touring in Mexico. By the time TLG takes place, in March of 2008, the twins would have had their third birthday, allowing for Artemis to give Myles his chair as a birthday present, Beckett to be old enough to no longer need diapers, and the behaviours to act more like children than infants. While this doesn’t quite allow for the repeated textual confirmations in TLG that the twins are four, we’ll go with what mathematically makes sense.
That brings us to the end of the timeline! Not everything is touched on in the timeline, and not everything in the books is plotted (we are never given enough context to know Foaly’s or Opal’s birthdates, for instance). But the main events of the Artemis Fowl series are all analyzed, mathematically or logically or textually corroborated, and plotted out, for use or ignoring as personal preference dictates.
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jae-canikeepyou · 4 years ago
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| adjacent | j.jh
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pair: jaehyun x fem!reader
word count: 18k+ (unedited & not proof read)
summary: jaehyun turns into a golden retriever whenever the day reaches the most beautiful time; golden hour. a secret he kept his entire life & always wonders how long he could keep it, especially when you suddenly showed up.
genre: au + golden retriever!jaehyun + hs!nct
a/n: idk what came to me as i brainstormed this but by now, nctzens and valentines should know jaehyun’s a golden retriever :3 so i decided to write a plot for this adorable fact T^T heavily inspired with fruits basket and beauty & the beast! i really hope you’ll like it. lmk what you think! enjoy reading lovelies! ~j
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time was ticking real quick.
he rushed through the bustling people, avoiding the narrow crowds and jay-walked countless pedestrian crossings. he needed to hide. no one should see him transform. there was little time left. why was he so careless each time this happened? his parents and younger brother warned him to be alert at all times. did he listen? no, never did. they compared him to a rock— hard headed and stubborn. but all he ever wanted was to be free.
curses! just a little more, a few metres more! he pant as he tried to catch air. he felt his flesh tingling, his senses doubling and tripling. jaehyun peddled as fast as he could, at least reach the line of bushes by the basketball court. hopping over the plants, he threw his bag aside and jumped off his bike before bracing for the fall.
the now broken bell sounded horrible as jaehyun’s brother caught up to him with his skateboard. “dad’s gonna kill you if you ask for another bike for your birthday.” he sighed looking at the loosened chain while picking up the single-track vehicle and the scattered clothes.
jaehyun transformed to a golden retriever puppy and struggled to come out of the bushes with his tiny paws and body. when he succeeded, he scratched the back of his ears to brush off the leaves stuck to them. “won’t happen, sungchan. i’ve already saved up enough by then. i’m not gonna burden dad for my wants.”
sungchan pressed the bridge of his nose. “you’re kinda being a burden now.” he picked the animal— his brother— up and put him inside his coat, as well as the belongings on the ground. he hopped on the bike and headed towards jaehyun’s campus.
“what did you say?” jaehyun barked tried opening the zipper from the inside of sungchan’s coat.
“nothing.” the younger excused. “but can i have your bike if you actually plan to get a new one?”
“ugh just bring me to the court. i’ll be late for my morning practice.”
the brothers were able to communicate telepathically as they’re related and were both cursed. instead of golden hour, sungchan transforms during the blue hour, which occured at twilight. tracing back to their ancestors, all were cursed for unknown inexplainable circumstances. they tried breaking it with all they could. every idea ended a failure. so they had to live through it, adjust, adapt and be alert.
they bumped into ten, kun and jungwoo, who were doing warm-ups and they simultaneously trailed their eyes and heads towards the jung brothers. seeing the huge pouch on sungchan’s stomach area, they all cracked up and checked the time. “oh yeah, it’s sunrise.” jungwoo spun the ball on his pointer finger.
ten grabbed the pup with one hand and jaehyun barked at him but he couldn’t understand a thing. although he was confused, he continued to carry him in his palm because jaehyun’s response was funny. “what is he trying to say?” he chuckled and poked the pup’s snout.
“he said ‘it hurts. put me down idiot’. i have to be honest with you hyung. holding us by the back of the neck really hurts.” unlike his brother, he was rather calm and collected despite already imagining the pain.
“you’re a blue holland lop bunny. it’s normal to carry you like this too right?” ten showed the pup to sungchan.
kun facepalmed at the question and took jaehyun. “no dimwit it’s not normal. sorry jae. you know he just likes teasing your puppy form.”
“‘wait until i turn back’- ugh seriously do i really have to translate hyung’s words every time?” sungchan gave jaehyun’s clothes and bike to jungwoo. “you know what to do when he transforms back yeah?”
they nodded and upon seeing the kid leave and headed towards his campus, jaehyun couldn’t wait to turn human. he would always beat ten up almost immediately— sometimes forgetting that he was naked. for the dudes it was alright. the problem was if he was with girls, though he hasn’t encountered anyone so far. he hoped he didn’t have to.
the harsh drills from basketball practice already sucked the energy out of jaehyun. not only that it was physically tiring, transforming into a dog twice a day before that have doubled the strain. then him transforming back would cause migraines and painful joints, as they were the aftermath of the curse. he had to keep his title of m.v.p and captain since the told them there was a possibility of him of having a scholarship for college. he couldn’t let a minor pain hinder that chance. not ever.
however, ten and the others could read his suffering. to them it was obvious through his exhales and slowing speed. hiding it was of no use. jungwoo ruffled his hair with a clean towel after shower. “can’t you just be like that dog in the movie ‘up’? have a collar that translates barks into actual language?”
jaehyun rolled his eyes and wore his black t-shirt. “it’s a damn movie, jungwoo. the world might’ve evolved and advanced in technology and even if they were to exist they’d be expensive. can’t afford that.”
“you sound negative, don’t you have any hope at all?” kun joined the conversation.
“never had any. stopping this curse is impossible. it’s been generations. my dad’s still suffering too. i have to find a way.” he fixed his black cap in front of a mirror.
but he knew there wasn’t. silence loomed above them as the team struggled to continue the topic. they tried not to bring it up yet each time they did, it always ended awkwardly and badly. it was either they riled jaehyun’s mood— mostly ten— or jaehyun himself was building his own raincloud by sulking about it and not looking at the bright side.
how ironic it was, he thought. generally speaking, even though being golden had good intentions and the breed was meant to bring happiness to others, he felt the total opposite. if he had to describe it, it was all insecurity, lowered his self-esteem and hopelessness only increased over the years as he grew.
thinking about it, he slammed the locker a little too hard that its components caused it to bounce back.. and also added to fuel of his anger. “break that again you’ll be in the coach’s office.” kun tied his shoelaces and the others agreed.
“my dad is the coach, what do you mean?” he questioned at the stupidity.
“you didn’t show up the last time it broke. we got the punished in your stead. uncle wasn’t happy.” ten got out of the showers last, a towel was wrapped around his waist before the younger ones were scarred for a second.
“it was sunset and i transformed! of all people dad’s supposed to understand! i-” jaehyun rubbed his face quite agressively and headed straight outside.
“oi i’m still changing! wait up!”
jaehyun kicked the bike’s stand attached to the rear wheel. he and his father didn’t have the best relationship compared with other kids, but he could say that it was better than the relationship he had with his mother. she loved her little family, yet over time the curse grew onto her. her husband would turn into a werewolf at full moon. and until now, even though that happened once month, she thought a part of him wasn’t the same person she loved before. even more so, when her sons were just the same as him.
your mom’s delusional! she doesn’t love us! she fears us!
that feeling stayed in the boys’ mind until they were old and mature enough to comprehend the situation they’re in. why couldn’t she love them like any mom would? she was no different from an animal mother abandoning her calf/pup just because they were or had defects.
mr. jung tried his best to be the perfect father, for only he understood what his two sons were going through, as they might go through decades with it, just like he was. jaehyun still remembered his first transformation, he only had puppy paws, but that was a sign to mr. jung that he indeed inherited the curse. when sungchan grew a tail at a fine age of one, their father gave up his 9-5 hour office job to tend the boys. and that was before he became jaehyun’s basketball coach. now he could monitor them at a close range.
much to jaehyun’s dismay and for that reason, he felt more caged and overprotected.
“y/n! coach’s looking for you!” your classmate called.
no.. you groaned. again?..
it was already after school hours. you slouched on your desk as you covered your ears, remembering the errands he asked you to do previously. you didn’t know why, but ever since you had detention because you refused to run a 1600m marathon for an assessment, seemed like the other punishment was that he passed his job to you. that was a month ago, and today was the tenth time.
but curious as you were to find answers, you brushed it off and tried not to show any remorse. it’s all for conduct, you kept telling yourself. the whistle echoed the entire hallway and jolting you up in your seat. “okay, okay! hold on!” you yelled from the back of the classroom.
as coach jung stood rather comfortably outside the room, he gestured you to walk faster with a dimpled smile. “y/n! took you approximately three minutes to walk here.” he laughed and handed you several files and a zipper folder.
“thanks for counting?..” you replied with a confused and questioning tone. “coach, what’s this?”
“all school sports teams will have an annual retreat before their playoff seasons. i need a representing manager since ours was admitted to a hospital just today.” he pointed at the list. you followed his finger and it landed on your name.
“sounds like to me it’s more practice. and you want me to go because?” you raised your brows. he asked you to follow him to the gymnasium, in which it was making you recall all those extra detention after school.
“to make up with all of the p.e assessments you ‘purposely’ missed.” he said proudly while looking at his team doing drills. but he didn’t get any response from you. when he looked on his side, you were gone and ran across the basketball gym. “y/f/n!”
you squealed as embarrassment crawled your entire body. not only were you escaping from coach, you were disrupting the team’s practice and hitting couple of duffel bags and water bottles. “ah! sorry! coming through!”
*whistles* “after her!” coach jung’s voice added an extra chill to your spine.
“ugh why us?” ten groaned with sore muscles as coach gestured to them widely.
“just go.” kun panted.
then you heard a several footsteps turn into drums until they sounded a stampede. you jumped on your toes as you passed the line of showers cubicles. good thing you haven’t seen a naked man, or else you’d faint without knowing. you turned around and went straight ahead then to your right, and hid in a random room. the echoing voices and squeaking friction between shoes and waxed floors were cut to a silence, like your ears were muffled instantly.
your wobbly legs were tired and you were sighing in exhaustion and crouched down against the door. great, i’ll stay out of their sight- “what are you doing here?” you heard a low voice and froze on the spot. “only members of the basketball team can access the meeting room.”
that sounded like the captain.
“did you hear what i just said?” he raised his brows. you slowly lifted your eyes from his shoes to his legs, then to his built and face. “well if you’re a nobody you might as well leave before coach arrives. you interrupted my recording-”
“i heard you jung jaehyun.” you tsked and realised you had the name list on your hand. “ah, as a matter of fact, i can be here because i am part of the team. my name’s on the list.” you grabbed a pen and ticked the empty box on the paper.
what are you saying, stupid?!
“uh-huh..” jaehyun trailed, putting down his camera.
“y-yeah!” you stuttered. “you heard me.”
the door shook by the loud knocks from the other side. on the frosted window, you could see four figures. orange and black jerseys, they must be the team members. “ah! the door’s locked! she’s definitely in here coach!” one said.
“i’ll toss you the keys!” he yelled. oh crap. you were caught in between. your heart patterned with the knocks.
“you look terrified after hearing coach, y/n.” the chair squeaked from the weight. “i’m guessing you’re that troublesome student he has a hard time dealing with recently?”
of course captain knows you. great reputation you have, y/n.
“so? what’s your point?” you stood up to see his amused grin.
“say hello to a term’s detention.” jaehyun waved as the door swung open, revealing ten, kun, jungwoo and.. the coach.
you sighed heavily and dropped the papers. the coach crossed his arms and you lowered your head a little. “you plan to escape again y/n? then i shouldn’t hear any excuses from you. you’ll join us for the twelve day retreat. period.” he picked the papers up and wrote something.
“sir i can’t be with a bunch of jocks for that long!” your whine had the captain blocking his ears. “i have debate finals to attend to.”
jaehyun flinched at the high pitched sound and rolled his eyes. what was your deal? it was rude of you to suddenly barge into athlete’s quarters but judging them for that was even more rude of you. he had to shut you up at some point.
“so much excuses.” he played with his nails and to you he looked more amused than ever. you rolled your eyes at his chuckle and know he would target you from now on. “dad, y/n told me she’s ‘part of the team’.” he played his video that recorded your voice, clearly saying what jaehyun heard.
coach jung looked rather surprised, but his smile definitely screamed happy. “oh? that’s all i needed to hear. welcome, uh- temporarily. i’ll inform mrs. park about the situation.”
nononono- “i did this.” you were at a loss for words. “i won’t be able to compete in the debate.”
“yeah pretty much you made the wrong decision.” jaehyun stood to tower over you. “i’d like to see you suffer our drills-”
four knocks cut jaehyun off. “oh no, she’ll only do those for two days.”
you swifted your head in confusion, seeing coach jung wrote down your schedule on the white board. you were packed and it’s a lot worse than the actual assessment planned in school. “and what about the rest of the ten days?!” you exasperated that your hairtie snapped at the right moment, and your hair fell in sightful way.
“ooh that was hot.” ten commented in soft whisper, causing kun and jungwoo nudge him on the each side.
“she’ll be our manager for the remaining days, keep track of our drills and score points, or other extra things i needed a hand with while taeyang’s in the hospital.”
jaehyun rested his palms on his waist, swirling his tongue inside with a provoking gaze at you. “see if you can keep up, manager.” he chuckled.
you checked the time, it was nearing 5 p.m. “you know what, give me a day to process all this sport thing. it’s close to evening and i have to get going-”
“it’s evening already?” jaehyun cut you off as he looked outside the window.
the sun glistening at the distance while the sky showed a pretty ombré of warm colours. his senses doubled again and his whole body ached. he had to make you leave. it was already enough that his friends knew about his situation. there’d only be more trouble if you knew too.
“uh duh? the clock’s right there.” you pointed.
“hm, anyway you have to leave now.”
“sheesh i was going to anyway.” you rolled your eyes, but felt jaehyun’s palms behind your back. “hey stop pushing!”
“you’re too slow!” his tone changed. different than the usual because panic was what you felt from his palms. “quickly!”
the rest of the boys could tell you were pissed. they couldn’t understand why jaehyun had to make a fuss out of it when all he had to do was to kindly ask you. using force would only cause misunderstandings, like what’s happening now. “hey what’s your deal?!” you flicked his arms. “do you like to push people around? just because i’ll be with the team for the next two weeks, that doesn’t mean you could treat me like this already!”
“tsk so noisy! you’re wasting time! just leave would you?!” jaehyun turned you around towards the door.
this time you wouldn’t budge. “no jung jaehyun i need an explanation with this stupid attitude of yours!” you wriggled off of his hold, pushing him back with pats several times more that he stepped backwards.
“i don’t owe you an explanation!”
“you definitely do?!”
“why can’t you listen to what i say?”
“why can’t you stop being pushy, pushy?”
“you’re the one pushing me! time’s ticking y/n!”
the continuous back and forth of bickers and the war of pushing each other was an idiotic sight. your wrist was in jaehyun’s palms as he gripped you tighter. “i don’t care captain jerk! it wouldn’t bother you or hurt you to just give me one reason- and he slammed the door at my face! argh!”
jaehyun smirked wide and proudly knowing that he ‘won’ argument. silencing you was better than letting you see his other form. the boys stared him once he turned around to face them. “what?” he questioned,
“definitely not the right way to treat a girl.” they all said simultaneously.
“you know how bad it makes me feel when you all said it at the same time?” jaehyun pressed the bridge of his nose.
he knew well enough that this wasn’t his usual self. he’s good friends with you despite being in different teams of the school. you both took literature as your electives. sometimes you’d let him copy your notes when he had matches or leave small appetisers and juice cartons when he was tired and vice versa.
but no matter how close you both were, he couldn’t afford to let you see his other self.
not just yet.
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waking up so early in the day to assist the team was way more annoying than birds chirping by your bedroom’s window. instead of hearing their tuneful tweets, you had to endure endless phone calls every minute. you couldn’t remember much from that day because you passed out. and the team didn’t look for you until yesterday.
coach jung waved to catch your attention, only to be greeted with your huge yawn and a disinterested face.
“ah there she is! c’mon now, i got the green light from mrs. park. she agreed that p.e is the only subject you’re likely to fail this semester, so she’s giving you a cool-off from the team and focus on here.”
“yep. heard you coach.” you tied up your hair, only listening to half of what he said. “where’s the captain?”
kun did few stretches & jumps, his expression mirrored the other two boys who were also doing the same. you had a feeling about this— their telepathic gaze and awkward silence. you took a basketball to pass it to ten. “is he still mad about me calling him a jerk? that was a few days ago and i didn’t expect him to be that sensitive.”
they laughed because they couldn’t deny his obvious trait. “he doesn’t show it but somehow you know he is.” ten passed the ball back to you. “but not this morning y/n. he’s late for.. another reason.”
you hopped to catch it yet you were a second late, and groaned as you had to run far to retrieve it. “uh-huh. nature calls in the morning, again?” you yelled.
“do you think she knows about jaehyun?” jungwoo asked the older ones. they eyed you rummaging in the bushes for the ball, later looking back at each other for answers, but no one knew how your mind worked. “it’s been five days and no word from her at all.”
“if she actually does, i guess she just doesn’t want to be involved? i think we can trust her for that.” kun drank from his bottle.
ten didn’t look convinced. “involved or not, we have to make sure she doesn’t tell anyone about jaehyun’s curse. keep an eye on her-”
“ah!” they heard your squeals and ruffles from the bushes. “guys look what i found!”
kun sighed when they saw you running back with a golden retriever puppy in your arms, taking back his words said earlier.
“uh-oh. that scream means she has no clue at all.” jungwoo brushed his hair up.
“this puppy is so cute! i wonder what it’s doing here? are you lost?” you hugged and sniffed into its fur and gosh it smelled like vanilla shampoo. there was a metal collar around its neck, the piece spelled “jj”. “aww it has a name!”
no matter how happy you looked from the boys, they couldn’t help but take a photo of you and ‘puppy’ jaehyun. they had to tell you before it was too late. the golden hour in the morning was shorter than sunset, so either they would tell you straight up, or let jaehyun transform back to human.
but guess what? they were too late. they shouldn’t have second-guessed.
what had happened was way beyond your comprehension. it was in an instant. all it felt in totality was that, you weren’t carrying a puppy anymore. you lost balance and the weight in your arms doubled or tripled, you couldn’t tell. but you knew you were falling backwards. was there to brace for impact? none.
you blinked several times from the orange sunrise blinding your vision from the window. slowly you got up to sit and soothe the pain. that hurt..
here’s the thing. remember you mentally told yourself you hoped you didn’t run into any naked boy in the basketball team’s showers? there you have it. you jinxed it. jaehyun’s figure was on top of yours and you knew he had no clothes on. oh goodness.
“hyung? you forgot your lunch box- oh.” sungchan barged in the scene and everyone could tell he sort of malfunctioned. he froze then facepalmed.
you took turns into looking at the embarrassed jaehyun and at the boys who whistled to avoid the numbers of questions you were going to ask.
kun quickly shielded your eyes where your doubts were showing in your face. and no matter how much thought hard, you just couldn’t believe it. with fear written all over you, you dusted your pants and hands reached kun’s arm to support your weight.
“oh so you shielded her eyes but not my body?!” jaehyun’s voice entered your ears and you swore there was a hint of puppy whimper.
“this is a dream.. right?..” you asked before you fainted.
sungchan managed to save you from the fall. “whoa! ah, i had a feeling something like this would happen.”
“was she always like that?” minnie took a peep of your classroom, her eyes showed confusion. “is she tired?”
lisa shrugged and in her innocence she pursed her lips. “i don’t know. she’s been sighing a lot for the past hour? i wanna ask her but it might be too personal.”
you could her them and they were wrong. it was nothing personal at all. you’ve been sighing because you didn’t know how it was possible but it just happened— right before your eyes. since then you hoped that science could explain but not even the smartest people could give you a conclusion. you’ve been called out from lessons that came in the day and not that you didn’t blame jaehyun.
because for one thing, he at least told you the truth and the answer to your question as to why he had to make you leave that day. you propped your chin on your palms from jaehyun’s warning: “tell anyone i swear i’ll make you run a hundred laps with no water breaks.”
but the other thing? he was naked. and that’s not something you could erase in your memories overnight.
you let out a small whine that led to minnie and lisa copying your position, obviously making fun of you. “seriously, not a good time.” you laid on the table and hid from them. “don’t ask me anything.”
minnie and lisa looked at each other as you were being unreasonable and already gotten them curious with your remark. they both grabbed each of your arm, tugging on your sleeves where they begged nonstop for you tell them what had happened. they knew it was about the basketball team.
since you started to train and be with them, you’ve never complained. because if you did, coach jung would add another exercise for you, in which you knew you couldn’t handle. broken bones and sore muscles awaited for you. so you chose not to utter a single sigh, but you were careless just now and there was no escaping from these best friends of yours.
“c’mon y/n! tell us the deets! you sighing could only mean one thing.. did someone confess to you?” minnie closed her eyes and a wide smile suddenly became shrieks of laughter when you facepalmed. “oh who in the basketball team confessed?” she singsonged.
it’s not really a confession, jaehyun being a golden puppy is a secret that was never meant to be revealed but i happened to see him transform-
“what if it’s not a guy? maybe two? or three? oh gosh this is like a reverse harem anime-” lisa began to hype an awful assumption but you covered her lips. and plus? her voice was loud and how embarrassing it would be when the rest of the class heard it.
you were already restless at their energy. “none you idiots. i was sighing because i didn’t know that people with dimples would be that attractive.” you tried to divert the topic.
“pfft you’re talking about jung jaehyun?” lisa raised her brows and grinned teasingly to get a reaction from you.
“no, i’m taking about coach jung.” you hit her arm.
“but jaehyun’s his carbon copy, so you’re basically saying he’s handsome too.” minnie quickly rebutted.
“i mean, coach’s the original face so he’s definitely more handsome-” you paused. shoot they nearly got you to a corner. “wait- why are we talking about this? i thought we’re talking about me.”
“ah you were paying attention to our conversation?” minnie’s eyes grew.
“you’re not telling us anything dimwit.” lisa hit you back.
couple of squeals echoed the corridor and your classroom door crowded with people. apparently jaehyun stood by the door frame and scanned the room looking for you. when he spotted you, his face bubbled up and literally glided his way to your seat. you could tell he was slightly fuming, but you didn’t know what reason. “y/f/n! come here for a second!” he grabbed your wrists and pulled you up from your chair.
you tried to catch up with his pace as he continued to pull you. “let me go!”
jaehyun did in fact let go of you, but he instead led you to hit your back against numerous lockers. the squeals didn’t stop there and how that you were the centre of attention amongst all of the students, you had endure this for a little while. he was staring into your soul, eyes piercing that could strain yours, you knew he was pissed about something.
he slammed his forearms at the space right above your head, then the screams of giddy began to grow louder. you managed to see your friends at the far end of the corridor. they were smiling and lisa mouthed ‘kabedon’, making you flustered than you already were. “what do you want?” you asked.
“i thought i made myself clear?” jaehyun smirked as he felt you quiver against his skin. he leaned lower that his whispers tickled your ear. “did you tell anyone? your friends?”
“i’m not gonna risk my health for some dumb secret.” you rolled your eyes and crossed arms.
“please it’s not like our training puts your life on jeopardy-” jaehyun butted back.
“it’s safe with me. if there’s anything you’re worried about, just look at your fanbase. you’re making them sad.” you sighed, walking away and through the girls who has been following jaehyun around.
jaehyun exhaled at a rather slow pace. he liked your reaction and was aware of their presence. and in order to shoo them away, he had to do what he did. he just hoped you’d notice that too. “see you after school!” he yelled.
you briefly stopped in your tracks at his greet, you continued walking and pulled your girls away from the scene. you didn’t pay any attention, but you knew they couldn’t contain their smiles appearing on their faces.
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the bags full of foldable cones fell to the floor. the rest of the team turned to your direction, who already made mistakes on the first day of camp. they knew that you were obviously flabbergasted with your encounter. it was funny that you managed to stride your way so quickly towards jungwoo— he was very much entertained with your expression. “i know right? that was me earlier.” he stroked the large pup.
“h-how did puppy grow so big? that’s an adult sized dog! you stuttered but hiding your love for golden retrievers just wasn’t possible. there were times you forgot that this was actually jaehyun. “it’s only been a week.”
“yeah i’d like to know the reason too.”
suddenly you heard jaehyun’s voice. it felt like he was close to your ears again, but he wasn’t anywhere near you.
remains of memories probably were still in you head. you wouldn’t say you were traumatised, just surprised. why the hell am i hearing his voice? you shook the thought off at first but then again-
oi y/n. beside you. i’m talking to you!
what?
you gasped and fell on your butt. the pup’s ears were on alert and you knew he was hearing you too. “you can hear me?” jaehyun’s dog form practically towered on your fallen self. you avoided his look although the pup was so cute. his paws poked your shoulders, whiskers twitching as he waited for your response. “don’t look away! you can hear me right??”
all the guys could see was jaehyun staring down at you. and while you did the same, your knitted brows only meant something was definitely going on. they wanted to know. “what’s wrong y/n?”
your lips shook in heavens knows it was fear. “you’re asking me what’s wrong? why can i hear jaehyun? can you hear jaehyun? oh my g- this is really really weird-”
“you can?” they scooted closer to you, very much intrigued with your gift.
“and you all can’t?” you pushed jaehyun away for his body was weighing you down. he whimpered and got up to sit in front of the boys too.
they shook their heads vigorously. “only sungchan and coach were able to hear him.” kun stated, typing on his cellphone to inform his family.
“y/n! let’s talk when i transform back!” jaehyun’s paws kept poking you again. you glared at him with a loud hiss. his ears were alert, he didn’t realise that he was clawing you already, and turned a few rounds before he was laying like a bagel-shaped position.
jaehyun thought it was pretty strange. never in his life were there any people who could actually converse with him telepathically. other than his family, you were the first and he was determined to find out why this impossibility was made possible. there was a spark of hope forming in his heart at this sudden revelation. the glow from the orange light then shone above your head, marking the end of sunrise.
you looked at jaehyun’s dog form, it was- correction, he was.. quiet, and was still staring at you as if you were his master. he laid on this front legs, snout on the ground. huh, he can actually be behaved. footsteps were closing in. at the distance, coach jung walked with lisa and minnie, who were in their cheerleading uniforms. right, you forgot that they were also included in the annual athletes camp.
for a moment you panicked because you knew jaehyun would transform back from being a dog. ten and rest knew more people shouldn’t know about jaehyun’s curse. they were glad you read the atmosphere too. seeing jaehyun’s jersey in his duffel bag, you grabbed it and wore it on the animal.
coach jung made eye contact to your direction. he diverted the girls’ attention, and led them away from the basketball court. they headed towards the storage to “retrieve” some equipment.
jaehyun grunted and growled, his fangs tried to bite your skin. however, goldens were known for having a soft jaw, so his bites weren’t that painful. when you finally managed to put the jersey on him, jungwoo couldn’t catch up. “why let him wear the jersey?” he questioned.
“so he wouldn’t transform back naked when lisa and minnie arrives.” you pointed out the obvious.
ten held his laugh in. you recognised this tone, and prepared what came after. “heh..” he trailed off. “is it because you want to keep jaehyun to yourself?”
you continuously threw random items at him as heat spread to your cheeks. “screw you!” you scoffed. “get jaehyun to wear his pants. i have to pack a lot of things before we head onto the bus.”
“yes ma’am.” ten nudged your shoulder. “i’m kidding y/n. don’t take my jokes seriously.“
“it’s fine.” you picked up the fallen cones. “you’re worried about people knowing his curse. so i’m just doing my part to keep it secret.”
he pursed his lips and his heart softened at your willingness to help. “hm, i guess i can trust you after all.” ten opened the bag to help you pack. “oh! and also, jae in his dog form already is naked anyway.”
“you think i’m not aware of that?” you rolled your eyes.
your friends already have settled themselves inside the coach bus and you were seated in between them. now they would get to witness you with the team and hoped for a budding romance with any of the boys. you lowered your face under a cap to pretend you were sleeping, but in reality you just wanted to avoid lisa and minnie’s bombardment.
few rows at front, jaehyun stared by the window, deep in thought. rarely spoke a word since they started their journey to the retreat campsite. why was his hunch telling him to get closer to you? why could you hear him and he could hear you? he slightly turned to his side between the gaps of two seats. seeing you giggling with your friends had him rethinking if what happened earlier was just his imagination. he wondered why you purposely ignore him after he transformed back.
he slid lower from his seat. “i’d understand if this was a soulmate thing, but it’s not.” jaehyun sighed heavily where he broke the silence and supposedly ending the conversation earlier. now that he wanted to talk about it, his friends were still up for the news.
“oh yeah. those things are going on. except it only happens to some people.” kun popped a chip in his mouth.
“i just don’t get it. dad told me that never occurred to anyone with this curse.” he stole the bag of chips from the younger one to relieve his emotions.
jungwoo’s pursed his lip in wonder. “maybe the curse in another light has its own blessing? maybe you guys are soulmates?”
“nah, impossible.” they all said simultaneously.
“it’s a possibility-” jungwoo’s face soured where wrinkles appeared on the sides as the boys flared at him.
jaehyun shrugged not knowing what to say. his friends have bizarre ideas throughout the journey, and he wouldn’t say they were wrong either. all he could do was to wait until the next transformation. maybe you would say your thoughts about it through telepathy.
he would know if time passed quickly when he didn’t pay attention to anyone. one of them was the number of times you waved in front of his face to snap him back to earth. “jaehyun?” you laid on the ground and called out, panting to catch air after your successful reps. you tugged the ends of his track pants.
“hm?” he hummed, looking for your voice until he got annoyed with your repetitive pulls of his clothes. “ah stop that. i have to report your record to coach. come with?”
“do i really have to?” you whined. “i could barely stand, my legs are wobbly and i’m hungry.”
jaehyun rolled his eyes and took your hand, pulling you up on your toes. “then let’s grab something to eat on our way to the camp, hm?”
you gulped at the sudden gesture, even more so when you noticed your heart beating faster around him. somehow your sixth sense told you your friends were somewhere in the woods looking at you, and you were right.
minnie had her binoculars by her eyes as you and jaehyun headed in another direction back to everyone else were. she held in her excitement with a huge inhale. out of curiosity lisa stole the binoculars from her. a growing smile showed her pearly whites when within its frame, jaehyun was pushing you from the back before he took your hand again because of how slow you were. “min, consider your reverse harem dream for y/n over. we found her leading man.”
“few more reps y/n! do it properly this time?”
jaehyun rubbed his face, raising his tone in question of your athleticism. it was the second and final day of your assessments. your core should be able to get used to the pressure if you’ve done the reps for two straight days. so as of today you salute to all people who persevered and with great stamina. you just.. weren’t that person.
you’ve grown conscious now that jaehyun’s friends were watching a few metres away. you’d prefer kun counting and timing your exercises over him. in contrast, kun’s a little more understanding than the hotheaded jaehyun. “if i say i can’t, shouldn’t you consider stopping here? it’s the last one anyway so put random number on the blank or something.” you struggled to lift yourself up from the ground, arms in an ‘x’ position over your torso.
“is that so? then you wouldn’t mind if i write ‘0’ for the final count?” jaehyun checked the stopwatch while his knees put enough weight on your feet. “at least do five more?” he sat on the soles of his shoes.
“ugh! fine!” you tsked and did sit ups slowly, eyes shut closed.
jaehyun smirked with how determined you were in finishing. and he has gotta credit you for having the last brain cell to endure his overly playful bossiness and plans up his sleeves.
but even his friends has something up in their sleeves. they whispered to each other and nodded heads as excitement already boosted their anticipation. ten cupped his mouth then giving the raised brows as signal to start. “y/n! jaehyun’s recording your expression with his phone!” ten yelled.
jungwoo’s mouth widened and followed along. “jae! there’s a bee behind you!”
“what?!”
“where?!”
the moment you froze and opened your eyes after bringing yourself up, and jaehyun leaned forwards to avoid the insect, was way too hilarious for the guys to see. both of your faces were centimetres away from each other and jaehyun’s ears already tinted pink. jaehyun already found it awkward to help you for three days, but he never prepared himself for something like this.
as his friends bursting out laughing, that was when he realised it was all their plan. you were still too close to him, so he cleared his throat to cut the gap between. “is that a pimple on your nose?” he asked, only for his nose to be smacked and soon be numbed. “agh!”
what the- “jerk! don’t point it out!” you kicked him and rolled sideways to stand up, angrily leaving the area with the sheet in your hands. “i’ll give this to the coach!”
jaehyun held his nose and walked back to the guys, who were still laughing their butts off and rolling on the ground. “you can stop now.”
“oh that was funny! it was like a typical ‘ba-dump’ scene in a rom-com!” jungwoo wiped a tear.
“should’ve recorded it!” kun threw his head back while his hand rested on his heaving chest.
“no worries! at least it’s recorded in jaehyun’s mind!” ten cheered with closed fists.
“it’s embarrassing!” jaehyun threw his towel.
bonfires were mandatory at the start and end of the camp. however, because of your assessment, coach jung had negotiate with the other members of the basketball to get to the campsite a day before the other teams actually arrived at night. so for the kun and the rest, they had a little more free time than jaehyun. and him being the coach’s son.. he didn’t have the same benefits. he was stuck with you because he had to keep an eye on you while
he thought being with you would only be for the first two days, then he would go for his training. and yet here you were, sitting beside him in front of the bonfire while everyone else arrived and other danced to their hearts’ content. maybe he could ask you about the telepathy thing? but figuring you were cranky from earlier, he held back.
“can i ask more about your curse? if it’s okay with you to tell me.”
jaehyun nodded, you had the right to. not because you accidentally picked a random puppy then saw him naked few moments later. you could hear him in your head, and that was enough reason to tell you rather than a general information about it. “yeah. i’m okay with it.”
“you said your ancestors had the curse too. was there any specific reason why they had to suffer that your family and you had to be the..” you paused for a while. jaehyun was waiting for your next words, you guessed it was alright to say it. “..collateral damage?”
“right. i didn’t tell you more of it yeah?” he sniffed from the chilly night. “i don’t know how far back in the years it happened. but they said the head of the family casted out his wife because he assumed he cheated on him. he was the only person the wife ever treasured, so when she was accused, she took his pet and killed it. the head found out, he cursed her that her descendants turn into animals. and we’re the descendants of that woman.”
“that’s awful.” you cleared your throat. “i’m sorry you have to suffer the curse.”
“you don’t have to be. i’m just trying to cope with it.” jaehyun chuckled. “how awesome would it be if there was a way to reverse everything.”
“gotta find the blessing then.” you laid on the grass.
jaehyun’s face wrinkled in disgust. “okay you sound like jungwoo.”
“at least appreciate me for trying to lift your spirits up.”
he hummed in agreement.
“or you can just.. let the blessing find you.” you singsonged as you realised how corny you actually sounded.
“fine, and if it’s you?” he had to give a hint of the telepathic communication.
“because i can hear you when you’re in your retriever form? i’m not exactly a blessing but yeah i’d like to know how telapthy works too.” you stared back at the bonfire, flames flickering as the smoke flew in the air. as of tonight, you wanted to be that person who’d be the igniter of that hope he held on. “if i could help out a little, i’ll be happy to help.”
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lisa and minnie stared at you, both had their palms under their chins as if their silence asked you to talk. “i can’t eat when the two of you are like this. it’s very disturbing.” you gripped on your fork, hesitant to eat as you took glances between the food and them.
you knew what they were going to ask. not like you didn’t want to share, it was just that you knew them well enough that they wouldn’t stop once they start. the food was getting cold every second passed, due to the wind outdoors, it was more vulnerable. lisa stretched her elbows while holding her poms to be noticed. five days have gone by and even though you were rarely with them in all those days, she had to ensure you’d tell them about the basketball team and your leading man— although you had no idea about that.
“any updates?” she raised her brows.
“nothing is happening with me or anyone in the team, if that’s what you both wanted to know.” you sighed. “i’m just simply taking down minutes.” you said sternly, kind of regret that you answered her and swirled the noodles with your fork.
“are you sure? twelve members should be enough for that.” minnie tied her shoelaces and bent down with a pressed smile when you pout. she softened her gaze when you were telling the truth and that their teasing should stop there. but they knew that the team should know something about you.
“they’re divided into teams. some did the score board while others practiced on their own. of course i have to be the one- why are you pulling my arm?” you asked and eyed them as if they stained your clothes.
lisa twirled on her toes and posed with her arm rested on her waist. “you’re being quiet again.”
“i’m not?” you said monotonously while you munched on your food.
she sighed and grabbed your chin. “you don’t look at me when you’re lying.” she hummed, yet you didn’t respond. “what’s up y/n? something’s on your mind i can tell.”
in fact a lot of things were.
so far in the week, you’ve helped jaehyun theorise solutions to end his curse after practice. not only for him, but his family and extended family too. some have passed not having to enjoy their lives, while others chose to hide themselves from the world. and a small percentage of the family tree actually tried to live through it— that was jaehyun’s family. coach jung was as determined as jaehyun to put a stop into this curse.
not only that thought alone. to you, jaehyun has been rather noticeable. even if you weren’t thinking of him, he’d appear out of nowhere— during your breaks, on your night-walks alone or even heading to the toilet. you’d always bump into him and his presence seemed to be marked in your consciousness now. not that you liked him around, it was just captain was more friendly than others made him out to be. “really, it’s nothing.”
to say that jaehyun didn’t feel same was definitely an understatement. since the start of the freshman year, he knew you were the loud girl with the two hot cheerleaders, but always wondered why you’ve never joined the team. sometimes he would catch you sitting at one corner, dancing along with the routines aside from cheering your friends on as he was heading to practice.
now he took a peek of you eating alone while lisa and minnie showed off their new uniforms. he was about to call you out to help the team, but the girls pulling you almost immediately once you were done had him holding back. “chaeyeon will be arriving soon, and remember the dare was to wear our uniform.” minnie giggled while you begged her to stop, to the point you nearly cried thinking about it. “you agreed to it-”
“i didn’t agree to it! you agreed for me! i had no say!”
jaehyun’s eyes widened at the thought of you in uniform. your yells were getting louder and pitchier. should he be your knight and shining armour? probably not. he’d like to have something to tease you about. for a moment there was silence, he hid behind the corner of a storage building. you were still telling your friends to stop doing what they were doing. but it was two against one, and he knew you were at the losing end.
the door slammed open, your huffs and puffs getting heavier and closer to where he was. jaehyun’s heart beat so fast that when he finally decided to call out your name, you bumped into him and he caught you to prevent you from falling. “i was about to fetch you, manager.”
you felt heat spread your entire cheek because of the attire you were forced to wear. “well you did and i’m here. can we go? my friends are giving me the stares.”
“fiesty, but i think you look alright.” he chuckled when you grumpily walked ahead. jaehyun followed you from behind with his hands in pockets.
what does he mean by that?
lisa and minnie pursed their lips, soon bursting into giddy squeals and continuously fanning each other from what they saw yet the second time. “he was really checking her out.” minnie laughed.
“his ears said it all.” lisa checked her watch on her wrist. “basketball team’s practice match is starting soon. wanna sit in?”
“girl you bet i will.”
even hours later you blew your baby fringes blocking your view. as you flipped the score board and whistles for a time-out echoed the outdoor gym, your friends could tell how uncomfortable you were but they’d do nothing to get more reactions from you. they liked that you entertained them. and what choice did you have? chaeyeon was already taking pictures of you in the uniform you despised wearing.
coach jung briefed the team information on their opponents this season. you wrote down important points, feeling the chill of the early sunset. you couldn’t wait to change into actual soft and comfy clothes, mosquitoes weren’t your friends.
jaehyun listened to his dad repeating the same points- mostly because he got the advice first before others. he heard you hiss several times, you were supposed to jot the notes down. then it got frequent. he tiptoed to see you opposite from him, shooing the bugs away. of course you were still wearing the cheer uniform. he didn’t want to draw attention, so he stealthy walked behind the guys and straight to you.
“trouble?” he asked.
“just a little chilly, that’s all. meeting’s nearly done yeah?” you hugged the file to your chest.
“say so if you’re cold.” he took his jacket off and draped it on your shoulder.
“and who am i to tell to?” your voice challenging him.
he hummed so low that it almost lulled you to sleep. “me. i’m not the captain for nothing.”
you were both busy talking that you and him weren’t aware of time nor anyone else close by. mind you that minnie and lisa were watching the whole thing. you managed to smile even if you were crossed with how you were dressed. like you enjoyed his company.
they couldn’t hear your conversation, nor were your lips were moving. but the body language they saw already proved and confirmed their assumption. they had to tell you. they went straight to you once the meeting was over, and pulled you aside whilst jaehyun was talking about his childhood.
jaehyun raised a brow and chuckled as you were being pulled away. his friends immediately surround him, bombarding him with questions that he wasn’t paying attention to the meeting. “dude, your time’s near.” ten smacked him on the back.
“don’t make it sound like i’m dying, ten.” jaehyun rolled his eyes, but whenever he did, they were always fixated on you. he couldn’t shake off the feeling you were that something to solve the curse.
“be alert than be busted.” ten shrugged, head tilting to where you were. your friends were busy recording you and giggles filled the air. “how are you so calm now jae?”
jaehyun pursed his lips. “with her, there’s no way i’m calm at all.”
“okay now i can’t tell if that answer was from human jaehyun or doggy jaehyun.” jungwoo pointed out.
his friends all looked at each other, jaehyun wasn’t his usual self. it was as if he was dazed but was able to converse with them properly. slowly his naturally peach-like fuzzy cheeks grew more fur, his tail started to reveal. although they were quick enough to hide jaehyun, they didn’t realise the commotion that came afterwards and drew everyone’s attention.
you swifted your head at the boys’ yells and gathering circle, faintly hearing jaehyun’s refusal into whatever they got him into. “stop it! hey!” he hissed.
jungwoo, a little too excited of the drama going on, spotted you looking at them and gestured you to come over too. your friends built up a curiosity and went ahead of you. as for you, you were mentally tired to think of anything.
not until you heard kun’s wavering yet convincing words. “uh.. y’all wanna see magic?” he chuckled nervously as he knew what jaehyun would do to him after all this was over. “quickly because it’ll happen soon!”
you held in a laugh at jaehyun when he was forced to sit down on the grass to hide his tail. “i’ve been trying to master this for months and i thank jaehyun as my participant. who loves animals? give me a name.”
most hands were up and the answers were said at the same time. some didn’t believe him, but others have seen kun’s little magic tricks over the days. so something of a huge scale like this already got them curious than ever.
“ah i hear great ones but i’ll choose dog. now i’ll turn jaehyun into a golden retriever.” he draped a blanket above his friend.
ten and jungwoo bit their lips to contain themselves, holding onto each other as they filmed this once-in-a-lifetime event. the circle enlarged in scale with the poor lad at the center and the golden hour shone over everyone.
“in 3.. 2.. 1..” kun only snapped his fingers then the blanket shrunk in size. your schoolmates were convinced that something was actually happening.
and it was amusing because you were able to hear jaehyun swearing so much in your head.
you let out a giggle. jaehyun was soon surrounded by everyone who wanted to pet him. even your friends went over to the animal. “at least pretend to be happy for them. goldens are known for being clowns.” you told him.
*sighs* “tell kun i’m gonna kill him.”
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the silence was all jaehyun ever wanted after the shock he had to go through from kun’s improv few days ago. he’d be thankful for a moment because he actually forgot the gideon hour at the time, but he would soon later be clouded with annoyance that he should’ve been informed beforehand of his actions— not only kun, the others included. they’ve got a part in this too.
his friends seated side by side with bruises and bandages on their faces, jaehyun still giving them the silent treatment. he was cranky about that, yet even more so when there was no progress into finding a solution to his curse. “jae. we said we’re sorry.” jungwoo apologised and felt that he was the only one giving effort to talk to jaehyun compared to kun and ten.
“and i said it’s fine. so stop saying that before i actually don’t forgive you.” jaehyun pressed the bridge of his nose.
after walking up the slope to the cabin with heaves of breaths, you managed to hear their conversation before opening the door. “i refilled your bottles.” you threw them on a duffle bag, not caring whether either of them rolled away. “i have to apologise too, jaehyun. i haven’t come up with anything to help you.” true enough because you couldn’t think straight or have the energy to use your remaining brain cells for that matter.
“ugh it’s fine. i’m not in a rush or anything. not even assigning you to solve within the duration of the camp.” jaehyun squeezed the bottle as thirst continued to drive him crazy, the heat as well, so he removed his tshirt. you averted your gaze and looked elsewhere. maybe you were still a little bothered seeing him half naked after the incident?
ten sought the opportunity and decided to fan the flame even more. “why look away when you’ve seen him already?”
he managed to dodge your hits and you turned around embarrassed. jaehyun could see you fanning yourself from the heat. “it was an accident!” you cleared your throat.
“gah i’m tired. we’re done with practice. we get a day off tomorrow, so can’t we watch a movie? who has disney plus?” jungwoo wiped himself with a towel.
“i do.” kun brought out his ipad. “what do you wanna watch?”
“i haven’t watched that one.”
“beauty and the beast?”
“o-kay, i’ll be going now.” you yawned as you began to feel the exhaustion take over your body. “see you tomorrow.”
the door closed and suddenly you remembered a funny memory last halloween when taeil dressed himself as belle. he blended in with the other ladies that you didn’t realise it was him. either it was the wig’s work or just taeil in general. you found it funny when a bunch of young teens become children again as disney’s mentioned.
your phone vibrated with your friends asking to help them out with their practice. “i came to the camp for the basketball team, not you two.” you left a voice mail. all you wanted was to rest up today. not until a certain realisation hit you hard.
because what if?
it hasn’t been that long since you left the cabin when the boys jolted from their positions. their peace and concentration on the movie already ruined by you. “oh my goodness i think i got it?” you slammed the door.
jaehyun sat up and set his phone aside. “you’re saying it a question rather than a discovery. not convinced.”
“will you be when i tell you if it’s based on that movie?” you pointed at the tablet.
he trailed his eyes to the screen then back at you, a more confused expression on his face. “you expect me to find someone to love me so my curse will be lifted?”
“pfft nah kidding, you don’t seem that loveable anyway.” you stole a lollipop from ten. “okay bye for reals.”
as the door closed, ten unwrapped another lollipop. “bet you he’s thinking of his potential ‘belle’.” ten nudged the boys.
“shut up. i’m not going to base my life on a fictional movie.”
“but it could be y/n. i mean she can hear you.” jungwoo paused the film.
“it’s not going to be her and it doesn’t prove anything.”
jaehyun thought a lot for two things— you keeping his hopes up, the other was you setting his heart in a frenzy and he always hated that feeling. he groaned and dragged himself to bed to place a towel over his face. sure he’ll hold on to that idea you came up with for now. however it didn’t prove on telepathy.
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your heart missed a beat when jaehyun waited for you in front of the cabin you stayed at. he thought you bumping into his torso wasn’t a good way to greet in the morning, whereas you feeling some fur on his tshirt as greeting was any different. jaehyun handed you a file and a little note from coach.
while you read it, you could sense jaehyun was staring, like he had something to say. he retracted his lips when your friends appeared behind you with grins annoyingly appearing on their faces. “make it quick captain. we have things to discuss with y/n.”
“yeah sure. i just dropped by to pass this to you. coach said to make copies. i’ll come back after you’re done with breakfast.” he cleared his throat and announced his leave.
“hm. fishy. he could’ve just left it here outside but he seems like he waited for you.” lisa drank from her cup as you all sat and ate breakfast together.
“right? it’s been days he acted that way!” minnie walked back to the table. “he’s indeed a gentleman, but there are times he’s very hard to approach.”
you unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. “anyway, what is it you guys wanna talk about?”
“lisa will go first. she couldn’t wait.” minnie giggled.
lisa laid out series of pictures of nature she recently took and were indeed beautiful. “oh my goodness they look amazing!” you sat up. “as expected from someone in the photography club. i bet if you submit these to johnny he’ll regret putting you as backup-”
“really?! i took advantage of the retreat and i made sure they were pretty!” lisa interrupted you and placed more pictures down. “these are my favourite! i’m thinking of sending these to johnny instead!”
however your face turned sullen at the next pictures. they were blurry and almost gone, but it was definitely jaehyun at the background, each one showed he was transforming from human to dog. you paused and your heart did the same.
the silence got longer, you knew you had to speak up, but no words came out. “what’s wrong y/n?”
“you can’t submit these to johnny.” you brushed the first batch of pictures aside and bind latest pictures together.
“why not? you supported the rest of them! how could these be not good enough?” lisa’s voice changed in an instant, like you’ve taken away her pride. she sat back with folded arms, her behaviour scared you a little.
minnie slightly wiggled your hand. “hey, are you hearing to yourself y/n?”
“sorry, i know i sound stupid-”
“you are!” lisa huffed where her cheeks blew up. it was cute though.
“but you have to hear me out.” one thing was for sure, your stress levels shot up high if word gets to jaehyun. you had to prepare for the consequences.
“okay, so why can’t i submit them?” lisa sighed.
you held her hand. “it would be alright to, only if these are not in the background.” you said, pointing out a figure at the background of the subject. it all became clear as day to them when they looked closely. “did jaehyun just.. transformed?”
you were surprised with how quick they were able to catch on. as much as you wanted to protect jaehyun’s family curse, things would’ve turn for worst if someone else had noticed it. i’m sorry jaehyun, this is for your own good.
“we believed kun’s ability of illusion and his magic tricks. ten sent us a video of it and it didn’t really occurred to us that the golden was actually jaehyun.” minnie pursed her lips. “if you think about it, he does look like a golden.”
“how is this possible?” lisa asked with a growing smile, but refrained since transforming twice everyday was nothing good anyway.
“i found about his family curse accidentally. he turns into a dog when it’s golden hour, like sunrise and sunset.” you propped on your elbows.
“it’s a curse? poor lad.” minnie gasped.
a rather sad nod caught them off guard. “the coach signed me up to join this retreat. it’s not only for my missed p.e assessments but it was to keep his curse a secret. a-and now that you know, i’ll be damned if word gets to him. so you have to promise me you both don’t say or do anything..“ you sounded as if you begged. that was how much your the friendship you have with jaehyun meant to you.
“and yeah, that’s my answer. the magic trick was just a cover up to hide jaehyun’s dog form.” they listened and were surprised to hear you like this.
your fidgety hands and nervous breathing was too obvious. if jaehyun was just a friend, you wouldn’t act as if he was your- “oh no.” you slumped down on your arms. “why did i..” you mumbled as your feelings for him became clearer to you.
“oh my gosh. you like him! you like jaehyun!” lisa covered her mouth and changed the lingering negative atmosphere.
ba-dump. i..
“then that means your love for golden retrievers doubled!” minnie hugged you.
“no! it’s b-because you’re putting m-me in the spotlight-” you stuttered when they leaned towards you. “i’m gonna go.”
jaehyun flinched even though he was at a distance. your friends were yelling quite excitingly. you were being chased by them and although it was inaudible. he answered his phone as it was ringing for a while. “what, ten?”
“don’t ‘what’ me!” jaehyun tilted his head from his friend’s volume. “jae where are you?”
“i’m at y/n’s cabin and on my way bac-”
“nevermind that. i can see you.”
ten rushed towards him and looked at the cabin. “where’s lisa?” he squinted his eyes.
“just her and minnie chasing y/n out. i don’t know how but they left the door open. what are you doing here anyway?”
he mimicked a photographer’s gesture and pointed at the cabin. “lisa told me her pictures have developed and i’m here to get them.”
jaehyun flicked his forehead. “and you could’ve asked me instead.”
“they’re confidential and i’m shy if anyone sees it.” ten walked to the cabin.
“gross. just get them and head back quickly.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
you lost track of the days that have passed and there was an unsettling feeling that stayed in your chest. had it been two or three? you couldn’t remember. the basketball team’s practice matches and drills were normal. but there was a difference in air lingering around jaehyun. he still talked to you, kept the same gentle smile and was caring as usual. except whenever he did those, it seemed like he was distancing himself from you, creating an imaginary wall just to let you know your limits and boundaries.
you’d like to think it was because of the pressure coach has been giving him since the play-offs were close to date. but, it wasn’t all jaehyun who behaved that way. ten also distanced himself, his gaze pierced against your skull and thinking about it only caused you to have migraines. you were more scared of ten.
coach jung have asked you to help the cheerleading team, saying you’ve helped them enough. the amount of appreciation he had for you was too much, you couldn’t ask him about how jaehyun recently. yet this was all too sudden that your gut feeling told you otherwise. you planned to talk to jaehyun after the day ends. because in all honesty, something definitely happened.
and the boys left you out of it.
approaching jaehyun was harder than you thought. now you’ve realised it, he was always the one who took the initiative and you on the receiving end took the benefits of his kindness. it was supposed to be the other way around, so why were you taking advantage of this?
if having feelings for him was the reason for that, then you’re really stupid y/n. you laid on the grass in defeat from your thoughts and closed your eyes. you decided to have some peace and nature was your best friend in time like these. chirping birds and crashing riverbanks-
“jaehyun where are you?!”
ah crap. you twitched hard enough that swarms of goosebumps appeared on the majority of your skin. on your stomach, you hid behind the bushes to see jungwoo and the others struggling to find him. even at the mention of his name you were already feeling shy and flustered.
“is he skipping practice again?”
“ah whatever let’s just leave him.”
“i understand why he’s like that.”
“even i would feel hurt if i were him.”
a heavy and deep audible breath from their sudden entry was difficult to hide your response. you tried to leave as quiet as possible. not wanting to get caught, you had to move stealthily with few glides backwards on your knees, eyes glued to the boys’ actions if they looked elsewhere. when you felt something blocking the soles of your shoes, somehow you knew what it was.
“you’re blocking my way.” jaehyun’s irritated tone made your chest ache— in the most painful impact you never expected from him.
quickly you stood up and made sure you stayed out of sight from the boys. jaehyun scratched his temple at your awkward behaviour. he was already in front of you, why were you hesitating to ask him questions he left unanswered? jaehyun pulled a long face when you still remained silent. “if you’re not gonna speak when you clearly have something to say, do i really have to say it for you?”
what the hell is his problem? what’s with his tone? “yeah as a matter of fact i do. the thing is, i don’t understand why you’re being like this. you ignore me but still talk to me when i don’t help with the team anymore, and for some reason you’re mad at me?” you grimaced while leaning on a tree trunk.
there was cynism in jaehyun’s nods and the swirls of his tongue evident on his cheeks. you hated his attitude and all you wanted was an explanation. “whatever this is, i’ve got no reason for you to doubt me, jaehyun.”
“ah, really? ‘cause you just gave me one.” he fished out something from his pockets and as you watched, the item he was holding was too familiar and they were obviously not his. he flicked the sheets and that was when you confirmed they were the new pictures lisa developed.
why were they with him? at the pit of your stomach, a whirlwind of emotions and stressing pressure began, and you didn’t like the feeling at all. “what-”
he threw the pictures on the floor. “other than my family and friends you’re the only one who knows about my curse! and at some point you go against my back telling them to picture me when i’m left clueless?!”
right now you were really afraid jaehyun’s mood would attract attention.
you closed your eyes as he raised his voice. “look i have no idea how you got those but i promise you i had nothing to do with the picture-” you insisted and could feel your blood pressure rising.
“how- how could you betray me like this?!”
your heart fell and instead of feeling bad about him knowing, you felt your head ache with so much anger building up inside you. because jaehyun didn’t bother to listen or let you explain yourself.
“i found you in the background before lisa actually showed those to johnny! it would spread if she did! where’s the betrayal in that?!”
he stepped closer to you, your entire was itching to run away. “i don’t care! you still told your friends! you could’ve said another excuse like kun’s practicing his magic trick or something! you promised me my secret’s safe with you!”
that’s messed up. i did tell lisa and minnie but not because it was to mock him!
“kun was no where to be seen in the picture! what else can i do? lie to them? i know my friends more than you do and they won’t tell anyone!” you raised your voice as well.
jaehyun scoffed, rolling his eyes. “i don’t trust them!”
“well, i do! and you should trust me!” your tone wavering at all emotions hitting you at once. especially coming from him— the guy you developed feelings for.
“the moment you told them you broke my trust already! what else did you tell them, hm? my dad and brother having the curse too?” he brushed his hair in anger when your silence meant yes. “ugh is this really happening?! you told them everything!”
“okay that’s enough-” your vision blurring from the tears wanting to fall.
“i’m asking what else did you tell them?! dammit y/n what could be so important to you than my secret?!”
“well- i-”
“i what?!”
other than the secret, you knew what went after the reveal. then you realised the weight of your words, you couldn’t tell him that you actually like him. you wanted to be selfish this once. “i can’t.. tell you.”
jaehyun started to harbour more resentment towards your reasoning. he found it ridiculous of you to even continue with this conversation. ten already warned him that the secret wasn’t safe with you in the first place. the glimpse of hope faded when he thought you’d be the key, even if you were, trust was still important to him. it was the very thing his mother lacked and you doing so reminded him of it.
his expression darkened and you were afraid of him— excluding of how cruel he was with you on the exercise reps. you were afraid you just broken a promise and put your friendship on a rocky end.
“so that’s it? i’m begging you with my life on the line and you just gave me the most bullcrap answer!”
“you’re being unreasonable!” you yelled.
“shut up! you found about my curse so you should be the one compromising!”
“y/n!” lisa came running with a panicked face.
tsk, wrong timing. “not now.” you mouthed.
“have you seen my pictures?! i told ten to get them the other day but he got the wrong envelope! it’s the one with jae-” she bent down to catch her breath and was taken aback with jaehyun’s presence. “..hyun.”
the boys followed lisa and once they found their friend, you could tell ten’s stares that felt like daggers. he pulled jaehyun away but eyes still locked on you. “what happened?” lisa asked as you mirrored ten’s expression, but your friends could see the hurt in your eyes.
“he has the pictures. i think ten saw them and gave them to him. jaehyun’s mad, he thinks i betrayed him for telling you-”
“no that’s not it!” lisa held your hand and glared at the boys, especially ten, since he was her childhood friend. “you had every right to tell us because the pictures are my works-”
“shouldn’t have said anything further y/n! you should’ve gotten the pictures and told us instead of them! you promised, remember?” ten finally spoke up.
you rolled your eyes. “and what?! you’re like saying i should risk my friendship for his stupid secret!”
his friends turned heads to jaehyun to see his tight-knit brows and softening demeanour. jaehyun frowned and hurt was evident in his face. he was hurt by you, someone he developed feelings for in a short amount of time. “i believed it when you said you’ll help me. or were.. were all those just words to you?”
ah.. that came out wrong.
you bit your lips to say something, but they left so soon after, making your chest squeeze as if your lungs let out the last bits of oxygen from your body.
shortly over an hour, jungwoo watched his friend pace back and forth, nibbling on his nails when the tension grew in their cabin. “aren’t you too hard on her? you didn’t let y/n explain further-”
“i can’t believe her!” jaehyun crumpled the picture after looking at it. “how could she do this to me?!”
“honestly i just don’t think she’s that type of person to go behind someone’s back for her own entertainment.” kun spoke up and tilted his head, avoiding the cup that smashed on his side of his cheek. “perhaps you’re mistaken.”
jaehyun wasn’t in the right headspace whenever his past trauma was reminded or brought up, so no matter how much reason was given, he wouldn’t listen. “do i have to repeat it? she already had her fun when she told her friends to picture me!”
“your explanations are always so conclusive.” kun sighed.
“and your heart’s too soft as usual, kun! so back off!” jaehyun grabbed the older one’s shoulder and shoved him against the wall.
he released him soon after realising that he didn’t once listen to you, but he was too stubborn to take any more excuses. there was one thing he thought you were wrong— weren’t you risking your friendship with him by exposing his secret he kept so dearly? maybe distancing himself more than he did would clear his mind off from the mess.
when all sports teams lined up with their designated coach buses the days after, jaehyun slightly put his chin up to search for you in the crowd— in a subtle manner, since he still stood in his decision into having his space from you yet didn’t want it to be obvious to others that he cared for you still.
you knew he was staring from afar. it was a stupid misunderstanding, both of you were in the wrong, but he made you feel as if you carried the blame for this.
sure that was a given, that he would react worse than expected. you were going to take the pictures from lisa anyway, and the guys wouldn’t know that your friends knew. you didn’t expect you’d burst out of anger or that ten took them before you did and made the assumption. it still drove you mad, ten probably convinced jaehyun of your doing since he didn’t trust you at first.
that aside, you decided to ride the coach bus with the cheerleading team. “when we reach school, you can forget about the basketball team and camp. how dare they hurt you?” minnie hugged you as you stared out the window.
“if i had to weigh it, it’s not me who’s hurting. jaehyun is.” you sighed and pat her back. “how do i act if i bump to any of them? i’ll probably do something stupid again. at all cost, i’mma just- *sigh*”
“she’s talking about jaehyun right?”
“yeah she’s still not straightforward about him.”
“we know she likes him. she doesn’t have to hide it.”
“i can hear you both.” you lowered your hat to avoid their gaze.
jaehyun sat beside his father at the front for a change, playing with the blinds to cover sunlight. coach jung knew his silence more than anyone, even if jaehyun didn’t plan on telling him. “i’ve done what you told me to do. you didn’t want to see y/n after the fight. so? did it to any change?”
“no. i kept my distance and i’ll see if she’ll admit her mistake.” jaehyun adjusted the fan above him.
“jae, if only you saw her reaction when i told her to not come see the team. i know you’re smarter than this. you know it’s not all her fault.”
he clenched his palms hard. crescent moons soon showed themselves on the flesh. “where exactly in this is my fault, dad? have i not been patient to wait for curse to be broken? who said that y/n might have a contribution in this? it’s you, dad. i’m not holding any grudge against y/n. i’m just disappointed at her because she’s nothing i ever imagined her to be. goodness’ sake i even like her.” he mumbled at the last sentence, missing the point that his dad could hear it.
coach jung let out a short laugh at the remark. “not sure if you noticed, you haven’t seen y/n working hard at researching about our curse while you boys practiced. she’s always brainstorming at the possibilities, science or not, she’s always looking for ways. don’t let anger cloud you.” his father paused and had a pressed smile. “..don’t end up having small fights like me and your mother. you wouldn’t want it to be bigger than it already is.”
“yeah.. i know.”
you woke up with a thud and saw a rather prominent bump on your right temple through the reflection of the window. arriving at the campus grounds was quicker than you thought, despite being almost a half day journey. you overheard that the basketball team would stay there a little longer and you had to leave immediately because once everyone has gone home, you’d see him. you didn’t want to risk yourself from being spotted after you both fought.
it was a small matter now that you think about that day. stubbornness outweighed understanding in the two of you, and that resulted in immaturity. and if neither of you were willing to admit, might as well make the first move.
but you were stubborn as he was.
once the coach bus was nearing the parking area, the first and only thing you decide to do was get out of the vehicle and head straight home. you wouldn’t let your friends speak and looked at their bus. there sat jaehyun fiddling with the curtain. you then rushed out, covering your face from the basketball team as they too were getting off. “is that what she meant ��at all costs’?” minnie facepalmed as she saw you walking away quickly.
“oh look, there’s y/n.” coach jung tapped the window to make jaehyun notice you. the way you behaved was weird for him, because it was too obvious you were avoiding getting seen.
“i don’t care.”
“it means you do.” his father messed his son’s hair. “okay, off you go. i’ll cancel the extra practice today and let all of you rest up during the weekend.”
jaehyun’s lips agape at his father’s last minute decision. he wore his cap and slung his bag. “if you’re doing this and expect i’d make up with her, you’ll regret ever cancelling practice.”
“ah c’mon. your old man is helping you out with a girl. can’t you tell what i’m doing, jae?” he laughed at his son’s reaction. he could see himself in jaehyun and knew things would get better.
“it won’t work dad.”
he rolled his eyes and went to where the bikes were parked. he kicked the stand at the rear wheel when his friends caught up to him with their own bikes. goodness why can’t they just leave me alone? “what do you want?” he stood a little to pedal ahead.
kun rode along beside him, eyes alternating at and on the road. “what now? you’re just going to pretend you didn’t see y/n? like nothing happened?”
“how can i ignore that when her figure’s so obvious and literally running away from here? i’m not going to do anything about-”
jungwoo then sighed heavily, causing jaehyun to knit brows. “she looked over our bus you dimwit! that means she thought of talking to you but held back because of-”
“i’ll talk to y/n in my own terms and in my own time! stop forcing me to do things when you think it would work well for me!” jaehyun pressed on the brakes with his palms.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
kun and jungwoo’s eyes followed your swirling fork and the silent air that had been going for half an hour. they thought knocking onto the doors of jaehyun’s closed heart was hard, never expected yours was harder. you wouldn’t say anything after they invited you, claiming they missed you around them.
because it had been two full semesters since then. from what the boys told you, jaehyun lost focus and couldn’t lead the team to the championships. he always fought with his father and would burst in anger, throwing unnecessary fits towards them even though they worked hard to reach the quarterfinals.
this behaviour would happen so often that it began to strain his relationships with everyone on the team. the transformation did a lot worse to his body, he’d get sick and weak, and for over months, he would not transform back immediately within the golden hour ended. it lasted longer. sometimes even the morning after.
it worried them that if jaehyun given up all hope and continued to act that way, the urge to find the solution would never take place. and that he would remain an animal forever. even so, you knew their intentions to invite you today despite feeling sad for jaehyun. and you prepared your answer before they could speak.
“y/n-”
“as much as i love to stay, i’m here to tell you you’ve wasted your efforts. if jaehyun won’t talk to me.. then i’ll just keep giving him space until he apologises first.” you were already losing appetite talking about it.
“and you think waiting game would pull off too, hm?” kun’s dimple deepened, a flat smile seen on the exterior.
you put down your fork. “i didn’t think we’ll last this long not talking-”
ten smirked in disbelief, you forgot he was there too. his presence was almost non-existent as he kept quiet the whole time. “keep it like that. you’re held accountable for making jaehyun the way he is now.”
“ten!” kun scowled at the guy. “i told you not to talk.”
you rolled your eyes that his words hurt more than the eye roll. “why is he here anyway? you said it’ll only be the two of you. unbelievable.”
“to see if you came up with a solution to lift jaehyun’s curse. looking at you now, i guess you didn’t.” he said and you tried your best to refrain yourself from hitting him. “were you mocking him when you suggested it might be the same answer as that disney film?”
“i said as a joke but it might be a possibility. we live in a world where people go through inexplainable experiences that science couldn’t dive in deep.” you sighed.
jungwoo tapped the table to stop the bickering you and ten were starting. “like my hunch says, maybe it’s another soulmate thing i’ve mentioned to you guys at the camp.”
“it’s not a soulmate thing, jungwoo.” kun and ten said simultaneously.
you brought out an a5 sized sealed envelope and the action alone made the boys stunned. “don’t open this. just give it to him. anyway, the sun’s setting. i really have to go.” you passed the item to kun.
it’s suffocating. i can’t stay here long. they saw how hesitating your limbs were, your eyes averting them and clearing your throat several times.
“ten, does this look like she didn’t do anything? this proves she’s trying.” kun took the envelope and hit it on ten’s head.
as you put on your coat whilst standing next to the table, ten sat back with arms crossed. “acting smart, aren’t you? you really think you’re the belle for jaehyun huh? i wouldn’t believe that for a second.”
“i didn’t say anything about me being the solution. i’m still keeping my promise to help him. and trust me, i don’t think i’m belle either.” you grabbed your bag and left, your food gone cold and jungwoo sighed at the air turning worse thanks to ten.
the cash money was placed on the table when kun called the waiter. “please keep the change.” he looked at your slouching figure by the bus stop across the restaurant. it screamed sadness and hurt all over.
the reason for suddenly leaving wasn’t because you were offended with what ten said. of course there was truth in his words. at some point you thought you were someone important to jaehyun, since you could hear him.
you thought you both were soulmates.
you left because you spotted a familiar figure standing by the door. haven’t been seeing him lately only made you feel angry at yourself. you were a coward, you even passed the envelope to the boys instead of giving it to jaehyun yourself. your friends already encouraged you about it, that that was the only thing to narrow the gap between you and jaehyun. it was to show that you were still supporting him.
why are you like this y/n? if you like him, you’d do anything to get his attention and forgiveness. why are you doing things to push him away, rather.. why are you forcing yourself to not care when you still do?
you continued to walk with your head low for another hour, troubled in your thoughts as they’ve been bothering you for many months. snap out of it y/n-
*tug*
*scratch*
the hems of your baggy jeans were pulled and torn with minimal, adorable force. it took you a while to process the animal before you. a blue bunny, what’s a bunny doing here- oh.
“sungchan?”
he rose from the bushes in front of their house. you stood there awkwardly while he figures to cover his body after the blue hour. “i’m sorry for asking you to bring me home. i get tired from hopping sometimes.” he grabbed a towel that he was hanging by the gate.
“no worries. i-i’ve seen- nevermind.” your voice softened at the latter.
sungchan pursed his lips to refrain himself from smiling since he was there and witnessed when it happened. “come in, i’ll make you some tea. it’s my way of thanks.”
although he was kinder than his brother, probably more mature, he was still young that you could see through his intentions. you knew he wanted some patching up done between you and jaehyun. you hesitated for a while, but since you were there already, might as well try to talk to him—
even if there was a slim chance of making things work.
you sat on the sofa, slightly still and awkward being in the residence. little sips, light breathing and the soft wind from the fan were only heard within the living area. “did my brother cause you a lot of trouble during the camp?” sungchan asked and knowing that you were silent, he knew jaehyun probably did. “how about now?”
“actually, i think i’m the one causing more trouble for him because i feel like i’m not doing anything to help when i said i would.” you sighed as he continued to listen.
“really? i heard from the others you’re helping so much that it changed my brother.. at the least he’s not cranky.” his nose twitched so adorably that you thought it was derived from being a bunny almost his whole life. “also, there’s that envelope-” he paused while realising how your expression caught him off guard.
maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it, but he wanted you to know he wasn’t spying on you. he made that clear with his silence.
if he saw that back at the restaurant, that only meant he was there for quite some time. you let out a small smile that he was probably there not for you, but to wait for his brother’s friends. instead of bumping into them, he bumped into you.
“oh, that. it.. has a bunch of handwritten letters i’ve compiled when i struggled talking to jaehyun. i just felt that maybe it’s more sincere if i had to apologise.. y’know, eventually.”
he pursed his lips and nodded. “then why not put those words into actual words? like verbal words.” sungchan’s fingers pointed upwards, hinting that jaehyun was up in his room. “for all i know it’s the most sincere thing to do.”
crap, he’s not expressive but he’s so so mature for his age. it made you feel inferior for a moment.
“but before you do that, i have to tell you something that my dad and brother missed out about our curse. why jaehyun-hyung is more pressured than i am.”
(few minutes later)
you slid against the wall while sungchan went out to do grocery shopping. at the other side of the door, in between the thin gap, you could hear soft breathing; jaehyun was on his bed, sleeping in his dog form and it hurt you since time already passed both golden and blue hour, he should’ve transformed like his brother did. instead he laid there as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
meanwhile, jaehyun knew you entered his room. he pretended to be sleeping and expected he wouldn’t know how to act when he gets to face you. he decided to stay as he was.
until you pat then caressed his head.
he didn’t want to settle or give in for the fact you loved golden retrievers. he blamed on the shallow euphroria dogs easily feel. and because he was in his dog form, the anger he held for you disappeared. but at the same time, was your touch out of care or pity? he couldn’t figure it out. then he could hear the beats of your heart, and that made him sit up. your heart was fast. it was worrying. it was—
“why didn’t you tell me the whole story?” your voice wavered in heaving breaths as he finally looked you in the eye. his ears twitched and he faced the door, knowing that sungchan told everything.
jaehyun shook his body and whiskers moved before he telepathically answered you. “believe me i tried. i hate myself for being sensitive and i couldn’t bring to tell you because i got angry. but you have to know that i value trust more than anything.”
“you know what’s ironic?” you sighed, pressing your forehead as pain began to form. “you didn’t trust me first and and we fought because you didn’t do that. and you didn’t trust me enough that you only told me what, like 50 percent of it?”
of course he knew what you referred to.
he was going to tell you the day he visited your cottage at camp. but he didn’t get to, because ten told him news ahead of him that it ruined the purpose to talk to you. it wasn’t that he blamed him, it was due to the fact he wasn’t prepared for something like that. even for something like this.
because there was that prophecy weighing on his shoulders.
“sungchan said that it has to directly come from you, so you better tell me now before our friendship falls out.” you warned and leaned back against the headboard.
currently your friendship was on the line, wobbling on tight ropes. pushing you further away would do no good.
jaehyun sat and his paws were dignified into a comfortable position. his head laid on a cushion pillow, facing towards you. “fine. most of my family turns into wild animals, and they couldn’t control themselves in that other form. their wildlife instincts overpowers their thoughts.” he yawned.
“and it’s different for me and sungchan. when we were born, when we had our first full transformation, they were shocked to know we turn into domestic animals. we’re able to remember, think and live as if we’re still humans. at the end, it’s either of us to stop the curse.”
“so why did your brother mention that you’re the most pressured? why did it only have to be you?” this time you spoke, there was more depth into your feelings if you spoke. as sungchan said, verbally was more sincere. “you could share the burden with him.”
he sighed at the tone of your voice. “isn’t it obvious? the role is immediately passed onto me not because i’m the first born.. it’s because you suddenly could talk to me.. telepathically.”
“yeah and we couldn’t even figure that one out yet.” you scoffed remembering the times you’ve placed your efforts on that matter and now it had gone all to waste. all because you both had that fight.
he read through your eyes and sensed the intention from your words. plus he hated how you delivered it with that certain tone. “i didn’t bring this up just to blame you for my own satisfaction!” he groaned. “i brought it up so that i can apologise! i was wrong, okay?! i should’ve listened to you instead of carelessly listening to ten-”
you refrained yourself from showing any further hurt. recalling it would only make you cry. “well you were manipulated with ten’s assumptions. you believed him more than me. he had proof while i didn’t. i was in the losing end! not like i expected you to change your mind. so can we just.. get this overwith and tell me what the prophecy is?”
he was speechless for a while. you being straight-forward yet in a pained voice was too much for him. he was already softening his feelings for you and you had to tense it all up again. “‘only one could save those who lay under the curse, for they must be in the correct peace of mind and body to break it before it turns for worse.’”
“and the ‘worse’ means you won’t transform back anymore?” you asked, the prophecy already piercing your heart as you waited for more explanation.
“that and..” he trailed off. “..we lose our humanity too. we won’t remember anything. memories erased like a snap of the finger. and we’ll just be.. another animal.”
you pushed yourself to sit up as your heart clenched tight. “jaehyun! why say it now and not before?”
“because! what is there for you to do-”
you squished the dog’s into a wrinkly mess, to the point jaehyun couldn’t see anything. his paws tried to put your arms down, but even clawing was hard for him to do. then he felt you lean forward to hug him. “y/n? what’re you doing?” you didn’t answer.
crap, this is warm. it feels.. nice. embarrassed, he put his thoughts at the back of his mind. “are you doing this out of pity? do i look that helpless-”
what crossed his mind was that you thought he needed a hug and was the only thing you could do. but you proved him wrong, so, so wrong. and why didn’t he realise it sooner in his life?
“you have to treat yourself like someone you love!”
what?
“you have to fill yourself with it! have you been thinking half-heartedly or do things half-assed because you’re different from people? do you not realise there are people who loves you? you trust them so less that you’re not confident into breaking the curse! because you didn’t really try!”
he froze in his stance, like a bullet pierced through his chest with how true your point was. he didn’t know what love was when his mother left the family. he didn’t dare to open up with his dad and brother, not his friends as for so long he didn’t do that one important thing— trust.
jaehyun thought he did that. he had enough encouragement but only to the level of content. he didn’t expect more as what else was there for people cursed like his family? “why are you so worried or do this much for me?”
“because no one actually helped you!” your arms tightened around him. “your friends were occupied into thinking that protecting you and your curse from others was the safest thing to do. it’s not! it just gets you self-conscious, conceited and too comfortable to not to do anything at all!” everything you said knocked down the pillars of his pride. he wasn’t at all living in humility if his friends did ever help.
“y/n we’re nothing more than friends. how could you be pushing yourself onto my problems-”
“i’m one of the people, jaehyun. don’t you get it now? i l-”
as if the phone line got cut off, he couldn’t hear the rest. you appeared like a television who lost its voice, however, somehow he knew what came after that. he didn’t want to admit it, after spending time with you at camp, he realised his heart felt the same.
you were quick to catch on. the golden retriever just stared at you, you couldn’t hear him as well. not even telepathically. jaehyun laid back down, ignored you and went to sleep. you nudged him, he wouldn’t move. you felt a swarm of blame towards him. if only he told you earlier, he wouldn’t be in this state where he was just another dog. mostly you blamed yourself for not taking the initiative first to fix things. you went along with your anger and his waiting game.
where did it get you? to this.
the one second revelation he heard from you and then fell into slumber, he was standing in front of himself, before a mirror. a series of himself switching from human to animal throughout the years. the glass cracked over his face. as if he entered a new world, he had to prepare mentally for what was to come.
instead he awoke like he only passed out from exhaustion. to only see you hugging your legs, head down with soft sobs and hiccups, he reached out for you yet hesitated. he checked the time, the golden hour was to arrive.
“y/n.” he called out in a low voice.
“no.” you mumbled. “i shouldn’t be hearing him.”
“but you really are, though.”
you shot your head up, tears rolling down your cheeks when you felt his touch— his large palms holding yours. he transformed, you had many questions as you thought it was too late.
confused and tired, you stared at him blankly. processing the guy before you took a whole minute to realise jaehyun transformed back. “is.. is this a joke?” you coughed and rubbed your tears. “i saw you faint- i saw how you lost the light in your eyes- i saw-”
he’s blushing. his ears are red.
jaehyun pulled you into an embrace, he caressed your head as if he held a newborn. “the curse broke around the time i realised i lacked self-care. it was the same time you said it too.”
looking back, he didn’t treat himself right since the beginning. he realised he shouldn’t have looked for a solution or someone to love him. he was the someone he was looking for, and should’ve reflected on himself than to rely too much on others.
“you’re still hugging me.” you said, stopping his trail of thoughts. you pat his back quickly and he was holding you tight. “you’re squeezing the oxygen out of me.”
“can’t i hold you longer? you’ve been so helpful even when i pushed you away. now i don’t really want to let go.” jaehyun whispered. he never felt something like this before— this urge to love someone. “what if the curse comes back when you go away?”
you felt your head bursting with temperatures your body was experiencing now. “you really have to let go!” clearing your throat, you tried to shove him away.
“no. don’t be stubborn.”
“don’t be clingy, clingy!”
“you want me to hug you though.”
“i do but- wait no that’s not- i-”
he squeezed your face between his hands. “you love me, don’t you. and you said i’m not loveable.” he teased and goodness his dimples shot you at the heart. you kicked him in the chest yet he leaned forwards, closer than usual. “i can feel your veins beating crazily.”
ah for crying out loud! “jung jaehyun.” you called him with a stern and plain voice. “get off me.”
“tsk i said i wouldn’t-”
“jaehyun you’re naked.”
hm? he pulled himself away from you, looked down and covered his lower body. ah heavens- “i’m sorr-”
a thud was heard by the door. you both turned heads to sleepy sungchan dropping a parcel delivered to jaehyun while holding a toothbrush with his mouth and prominent bed hair. “uh bro, this is-”
“dad! i think hyung’s in his mating season!”
“i’m so not!”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
because the curse was lifted and jaehyun made it happen, all those who fell under it soon experienced freedom and joy after years of agony and pain and fear. feelings opposite to them showered upon them that morning like spring rain.
you sat in between jaehyun and ten, who haven’t been talking to each since they fought over little things, mainly about you. ten still didn’t believe that you were jaehyun’s girlfriend, because he recalled you guys were not going to mend things.
“so that’s it? it’s so hard to believe. she just hugged you and the curse’s gone? even more so you’re both dating?”
“ten, c’mon dude.” kun brought out his fist to bump yours. “she’ll be hanging with us from now on. you have to stop being a stuck-up.”
ten shrugged in defeat and finally nodded in acceptance. “fine. i’ll let it go. i mean the curse’s broken won’t bother jae anymore.” he turned to you. “i’m sorry y/n. jae and i have been best friends since kindergarten. so it’s kinda a brotherly instinct to protect him. it just comes out.”
“you do seem like the leader of the pack.” you fiddled with jaehyun’s fingers while he draped his arm around you.
“i thought i was the leader?” kun sounded offended, but not entirely.
jaehyun remained quiet. he told everyone what had happened. however, there was still one question left unanswered. what was the telepathy about?
what did it have to do with you and him? he thought about that real hard. were you actually a missing piece in the prophecy or did he misunderstand it? there were a lot of possibilities, a lot of ideas coming up that maybe he figured it wrong. maybe you did contribute to the breaking of the curse-
“ah!” jungwoo exclaimed as flicked the paper back and forth. he proudly showed what he found, putting the pieces together. the paper was moving quickly that the pairs of eyes couldn’t focus or see anything. “i’ve been telling you guys since camp but you wouldn’t listen to me!”
you squinted your hardest to see the words. all you got from the sheet of paper scribbles and connecting lines. the boys started to fight for the so they could read the younger one forcibly shoved in front of their faces.
jungwoo wanted his friends to feel their pride stepped on them, and held on the paper. “read the prophecy again. i’m excited-”
“you being excited about these things is nothing new-” ten yelled, and kun covered his mouth at the loud volume.
“‘only one could save those who lay under the curse, for they must be in the correct peace of mind and body to break it before it turns for worse.’ guys, it’s already hinted in it!” he pointed at the parts he was scribbling on earlier.
he expounded the prophecy was a little misleading. it wasn’t being literal about the right mind and body. they were the results of the having the correct heart, as the two would only be affected greatly if not for the heart.
jungwoo scooted next to you. “y/n, you weren’t only the key to solving it. you were the only person who gave him that push and made him realise he should love himself for who he was. you gave him that peace of mind because you are the heart. as we all know, the mind and body can’t function without the heart.”
“that sounds sweet?” kun blushed even though he wasn’t supposed to.
“yeah sure but the telepathy happening at the same time with my curse was just a coincidence though?” jaehyun asked.
“onto my next point!” jungwoo drew on the paper again. “i realised you told us before that only family members of the same curse can talk to each other telepathically.”
jaehyun’s brows only furrowed narrower. “which doesn’t make sense because she’s not part of my family.”
jungwoo grinned widely, it almost made you nervous but if it was coming from jungwoo, it always had to be something good. “not even us lads can even talk to you with our minds though we’re close like brothers. what if it’s a sign that she will be part of your family? even if the curse’s broken, it still proves my point that you were soulmates all along.”
somehow you knew it was headed to this. what jungwoo’s saying was similar to your hunch. you weren’t confident as he was because at the time, the curse wasn’t lifted. now that it was, you never knew you were actually right.
jaehyun shrunk in his seat after hearing jungwoo’s theory. he looked at you; who was now giggling with the others. he never thought you were his soulmate, it never crossed his mind. you appeared in his life as a shadow at first, before you resurfaced and made it a roller coaster ride. it was an eye opener for him too, you loved him for who he was, his flaws— that being the curse. although there were frequent bickers, that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy or hate them. he was afraid you’d leave after knowing his transformation.
you didn’t. you stayed. not because you were forced to just to keep his secret, you stayed since you said you’d help. and that lifted weight off of his shoulders. colours came into view more spirited, clouded thoughts in his head faded and everything he heard that were once muffled became clear. he had to compare it like he was reborn.
in the end, you were still beside him, adjacent to him.
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thegingeralien · 4 years ago
Text
Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).
Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.
I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!
TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:
1. Chewing gum!
- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.
2. Buying colour coded stationary!
- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!
3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.
- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.
4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.
- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.
5. Icky Medication.
- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!
6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.
- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.
- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.
- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.
- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.
7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!
- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).
-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!
- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).
- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.
8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.
- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.
9. Repetitive music.
- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.
10. Limit your screen space.
- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).
11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.
- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.
My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.
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waywardimpalawriter · 4 years ago
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Hi love! Can I get Smut prompt 126 with Bucky Barnes? I love James 🥵
Well hello doll, wow I’m very honored to have you send in this prompt and a little nervous lol. I agree with ya there James is so yummy and fun to write for to. I hope you like it hun.
Smut prompt #126 “You don’t have to be gentle with me, I don’t break easily.” (In bold)
NSFW +18 no minor’s please
Warnings = smut, unprotected sex (wrap if your gonna tap)
James, “Bucky” Barnes x Plus size reader
Okay so this got a way from me and is longer than I intended it to be lol (sorry, not sorry)
Smut Prompt list here
Three months that’s how long you’ve been dating, you haven’t pushed to much. Knowing this whole relationship thing hasn’t come back to him yet. Uncertain how to brooch the subject without it becoming weird. You didn’t want to scare him off that should’ve already happened given the fact that your not a size two. But Bucky chose you over everyone else he could’ve dated. Treating you like a china doll, gentle, fragile four words that make you growl low. Spitting curses under your breath while heading back to your apartment. Having seen the smirk on Nat’s face knowing better than to have spoken to her about the problem. Only getting a smile ‘Talk to him Y/N’ making you roll your eyes and stock out.
Nearing your door, placing a hand on the cool wood body thumping with need from watching Bucky and Steve work out. The play of muscles on that man’s back, his delicious arm flexing and the veins in his human arm Gods don’t even get you started. Seeing the way his black t-shirt clung to his form, ass hugging sweat pants that had you rolling. You wanted to jump his bones right then but turned and left missing the confused look in the cerulean eyes. Having caught the sight of you entering, he misses the next punch that lands him on his ass with a deep chuckle from Steve.
“Should’ve been paying attention Buck instead of watching Y/N’s ass,” extending his hand to help Bucky up getting a groan vibrating from the other man’s chest.
“Fuck you Punk,” getting to his feet and moving to grab up the towel, wiping the sweat from his brow. His focus being shit for the last few days, his thoughts straying to you.
Shaking his sandy blonde head, “Go, we ain’t gonna get anything else done today with your brain focused on her.”
“Little brain don’t you mean Steve,” gruff laughter echoing through the gym as Sam comes over, mirth dancing in those deep ochre eyes. “What’s the matter Buck you can’t satisfy my girl anymore?”
Fire dancing as his eyes landing on the Falcon who keeps the smirk spread across his lips. Knowing he’s hit or so he thinks, a little to close to home. “She ain’t your girl Wilson leave off,” heading for the door determined to find out just why you’ve been ducking him for the last several days.
Which brings us back to you leaning against your door eyes closed tightly memories cycling through your mind of all the times you and Bucky made love. Soft whimpers leaving your lips chased by a heavy dose of frustration and need. Hand slamming palm flat against the door, you didn’t want to worry Bucky but you needed more, wanted more. You also knew the way you’ve handled the situation isn’t the best especially when you hear a throat clear behind you.
Tensing up, forehead still resting against the door that you turn to see Bucky, tight black t-shirt clinging to that scalped chest. Sweat beading along his forehead to slide down his cheek lower to tip toe the lovely expanse of his neck you want to place your lips against. Swallowing you straighten and turn to face him, “Hey Buck what brings you by?”
“We need to talk,” voice flat, keeping his emotions closed off so he doesn’t show you how worried he truly is.
Nodding, reaching for the door handle as Bucky nears unconsciously pressing his chest against your back. The contact makes you stiffen and try to stifle a moan with having him so close. Hand shaking so that you barely can get it pulled down and pushed open. Knowing you needed a clear head for this talk yet how can you when Bucky is looking like a fucking status come to life. You’re all but drooling when you turn to face him and that lethal stance he’s taken up. Arms crossed over his chest making his muscles look ever bigger, one leg stepped to the side while the other remains straight. He’s such a fucking tease to you but totally unaware of the effects he causes you.  
“Fuck no one should look that sexy,” thinking you’ve said the words to yourself but the rambling groan from the man opposite you tells a different story. Swallowing you eyes raise to catch his, this time you can see the heat and desire coloring those lovely eyes pitch.
Stepping towards you, hands fisting at his side the soft whirl of his vibranium plate’s the only sound besides the deep breathing of you both. “If that’s what you think doll then way have you been ducking me?”
Chewing your bottom lip, arms crossing just under your heavy breasts pushing them up. Gaining his attention and the slow slide of his tongue over his lips. Mesmerized by the sight no words form in your mind till that smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. Snapping you from the stupor you found yourself in for a moment.
“I haven’t been ducking you Buck,” to prove his point you turn to head towards the little kitchenette for a bottle of water. Finding yourself thirsty but for more than water. Parched to the point you maybe ready to beg the man who you turned your back on to just take you right here.
Something you knew better than to do with his light footsteps he’s behind you again, pressing his chest against your back. Hands on either side on the fridge, sandwiching you in with his super solider body. Regretting choosing the thin workout shorts and tank top, feeling the heat radiate from him making you pant with need.
“Don’t believe you baby girl, you did it just now,” voice smooth as silk against your ear. Minty breath fanning over the shell with his cheek pressed lightly against your head. Taking in the soft scent of your hair and skin the scent shooting straight to his harden cock making him throb with need.
Knowing all you have to do is turn and his lips would be on yours in a hot second. You hold out trying to form some kind of coherent thought which is almost fucking impossible with Bucky pressing into you. “I didn’t,” bitting your bottom lip to keep the whine from leaving you lips. Feeling the cool metal of his fingers slide down your bare shoulder to wrap lightly around your wrist. That’s when you snap turning quickly in his embrace, fire snapping in your eyes that makes him pause and take a step back.
“Y/N?” confusion making the pupil retract just as his body does. “Did I do something…”
Growling in frustration to slap at his chest, “Yes you did that’s the problem Barnes, you’ve done it to fucking well in fact.” Watching him recoil a step, makes your eyes close to reign yourself in. “Why do you have to be so damn gentlemanly? Treating me like a fucking piece of glass.”
“Y/N I’m not following you,” even more confused than before yet its mixed with desire. That coats his veins, making his cock twitch at your aggressiveness. Trying to bring. himself under control, not wanting to hurt or scare you.
“Ugh,” tossing your hands up, slapping his chest again. “You don’t have to be gentle with me, I don’t break easily James.” Praying he get’s what your meaning seeing his brow dip makes you angry and you step forward roughly pulling him against you. Crashing your lips into his, nipping at the plush bottom lip demanding entry. When he remains unmovable your heart sinks and you pull back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” words whispered from tingling lips, body stiff against the island, hands balled tight to keep from roughly pulling you back to him.
Rolling your eyes to look up at him, soft gasp parting your lips at the return of those lust blown black eyes. “You won’t James I know you won’t but sometimes…” sighing shaking your head then look away taking a step.  
“Sometimes what?” vibranuim hand shooting out to grab your bicep to keep you from bolting. “What do you need Y/N tell me.” Gods his voice is deep and gravelly, it takes all your power to keep from flinging yourself back into his arms and demand he fuck you now. Thick thighs rubbing together with one simple possessive hold on your body.
Stealing yourself to look up at him, “I need you to fuck me Sergeant, I need no want to feel you tomorrow when I’m working remembering the way you made me feel the way you took me.” Swallowing harshly hoping you’ve gotten through to him.
“Strip,” single word leaves his lips, eyes flashing dangerously as he pulls you back against him. Hands one cool, the other warm grip your shoulders. “If you want those clothes you’ll take them off doll because God knows I won’t be able to keep from ripping them off your fucking body.”
A shutter licks down your spine at his tone, heat pooling in your core, watching for a moment the tick in his jaw. Hypnotized by the slow bob of his Adams apple that you don’t heed his warning till the sound of fabric ripping meets your ears and your chest is partly bare to his gaze.
“James,” soft gasp leaving your lips, eyes darting between him and your own body. Watching as his vibranium fingers trace between your the soft swells of your breasts setting your skin on fire with the simple touch, coming to pause between the generous globes. Catching the edges of your black bra, ripping the fabric pulling it from your body to join your ruined tank top. As another gasp is wrenched from your lips this time with a tiny squawk of anger. “You’ll pay for those Barnes,” finally breaking from the lustful haze. Wanting to be angry but finding it hard to maintain the heat behind your words with how his touch is firing off tingles and shivers up and down your body.
Full blown smirk crosses his lips, “I warned you sweetheart,” glancing down to catch how your body moves, knowing from the subtle rub your needing release. “About those shorts and panties which I’m betting are soaked right now. Am I right doll? You know I can smell you right, know when your aroused,” brow lifting when no words meet his ears. He takes a step forward you take one back body bumping against the cold refrigerator door. Some how his voice drops another octave as he leans forward caging you in, mouth dangerously close to your ear. “You forgot to say please by the way doll, remember your manners.”
Watching him pull back to capture your gaze, teeth making an indentation in your bottom lip. He groans capturing your mouth with no gentleness. Demandingly thrusting his hot tongue into your mouth, licking into the warm cavern, to tango with your tongue in a dance that leaves you both gasping. His forehead resting against yours when he breaks.  Breathlessly, “Please James fuck me, make me feel it tomorrow, please.”
Deep groan leaves his lip and before you can do anything he’s tossed you over his shoulder, slapping your ass hard enough you know a bruise will be there tomorrow. Only serving to make you squirm in his hold, feeling your clit throb, a moan at being manhandled leaves your lips. Long strides eat up the steps to your shared bed that his tosses you on. Watching you bounce, nipples peaked in the air condition cooled room. Licking his lips, he places one knee on the bed looking the part of a wild man stalking his prey as you move u p the bed to the top. Knowing he has you in his sights, making your body hum with need and reach down to tug your shorts and panties off. Tossing them to the floor, watching his shirt join and shortly after by his tented sweatpants and boxer briefs. Staring for a moment as his thick cock juts from his groin, little pearl drops begging to be licked up sit perfectly on the slit. Til his hand wraps around coating his palm and sliding down the shaft. Desire flaring in his eyes while he watches you watch him. Deep growl rambling from his chest as you tease him.
Spreading your thick thighs for him, fingers tracing your body all sense of modesty nonexistent with the heated look he’s giving you. Plucking your nipples, giving them both a hard pinch that makes your back arch a needy gasp leaving you. Air sucked in through your nose, exiting from your mouth his name riding along on a breathless whimper. “James,” and he’s there slotting between your thighs, one hand wrapped around his shaft stroking twice before running the tip through your folds before slotting at your entrance and start to slide inside you.
Smirking when a huff leaves your lip only to turn into a gasp when he fills you quickly, seating himself deep between your quivering walls. Mouth coming to ghost over your ear, “Hang on doll it’s gonna be a rough hard ride.”
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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years ago
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Fireworks
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A/n: this is not requested but i needed to write something for me and I always love writing best friend!jisung (this turned out to be hella long btw). Also i just realized this is the 16th jisung fic on my masterlist wtf. Welp happy sweet sixteen jisung. 
Tag List: @mini-meanhoe​ @leggomylino​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @hoes4hoseok​ @yangomangos​ @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies​ @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @konenichi​ @yangs-jeongin​ @binniebutter​ @skzwriternet​​
Warnings: cussing probably, lil distressed jisung, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 5.2k
Summary: Y/n and Jisung practically grew up together. Y/n always dreamed of getting her fairytale happy ending. So, Jisung is surprised when she is settling for an all but labeled ‘arranged marriage’ to an asshole that Jisung knows doesn’t love her. Not like he does. Can Jisung convince himself to go after what he really wants and take the risks that come with it? Can Y/n face the facts that what she has wanted has been in front of her all along?
Genre: romance, fluff, angst, non-idol!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers!au, wedding crasher!au, Fem Reader
“Please, come today!”
Jisung sighed over the phone. “Y/n. I have no knowledge whatsoever about dresses. Especially wedding dresses! They’re all white! What’s the difference?” I could hear the murmurs of Changbin and Chan on the other side of the line. “See. I will be no help at all!” Despite the negative connotation of his words I could hear the tiny smile in his voice.
“So, we’re meeting outside the shop at five.”
“Y/n, I’m not going.”
“2146 Chyeongsong Ave, got it?”
“Yes, I’ve got it.”
Letting out a happy laugh I hung up on my best friend, sure that his attendance could be accounted for. The wedding was three months away. Jiho, my fiancee, had no desire for a big wedding and it seemed the sooner we were married the happier he would be.
But, I had always dreamed of a magical wedding with hundreds of people watching me marry the man of my dreams. So, we compromised. He said I could plan as big I wedding as I wanted as long as I could get it done in three months and he would pay for it.
Jiho was the son of one of Seoul’s big company presidents. His family was very kind and seemed to welcome me with open arms despite my less than formal upbringing. Jiho grew up in a penthouse apartment and went to the best university in Seoul.
I grew up in a tiny house in the rundown suburbs next door my best friend, Jisung, and busted my ass to get scholarships and pay my way through a cheap college. Jisung was beside me in all the big moments in my life. He was my best friend and I loved him more than anything.
“So, what did he say?”
Sooyoung’s head of curly dark hair popped over the cubicle divider separating our two desks. I laughed and gave her a thumbs up. “You doubted my power of Jisung persuation?”
“Never. You could convince that boy to run around Gangnam with his shoes on his ears and screaming at the top of his lungs if you wanted to.” Laughing at the thought, I turned back to my computer, desperately watching the minutes tick by before I would get to start searching for my wedding dress.
A slightly chilling breeze blew across the street. Jisung regardless of his lack of enthusiasm on the phone picked me up from work to walk with me to my dress appointment. My mother, other best friend Yuri, and Jiho’s sister Bo Rim were already waiting outside. Everyone greeted us with a smile as we walked up. My arm was looped with Jisung’s and my hand was stuffed in his jacket pocket since it was cold. 
 My mother smiled and embraced Jisung with a kiss on the cheek before motioning us inside. My entourage and I were quickly greeted by a consultant. “Hi! My name is Hyunsoon, I’ll be your consultant today. You must be the gorgeous bride, Y/n!” She smiled looking me up and down before glancing at my arm linked with the man beside me. “And is this handsome young man your husband-to-be?” 
 Jisung shook his head dark hair falling in his eyes. A tight smile sat on his lips as he answered the woman. “No, I’m just the best friend. I’m not going to stay for the whole appointment.” She nodded looking at Jisung with new eyes. “I want to be surprised. Regardless, Y/n will look radiant in whatever she chooses.”
 After a few questions about my wedding Hyunsoon led me back into a dressing room and my family and friends to a couch with mirrors around it.
 “Are you excited for your wedding?” She asked with a kind smile, placing dressing on the wall of the dressing room for me to see.
 “You could say that,”
 Her brows furrowed. “You don’t sound very excited?” I shrugged and laughed nervously. The dresses she had picked out were very pretty. Sensing I had nothing more to say on the topic she helped me into the first dress. 
It was weird to see myself in the garment. I watched her fix the dress with clips so it would fit as it should before looking over to me. The dress was more of a ball gown style. It poofed out just above my hips and was strapless with a sweetheart neckline.
“Do you want to go out and show them?” I nodded and helped her pick up the many layers of tulle skirt. Hearing fabric brush against the ground as we walked out of the hallway, the heads of my entourage turned. Several smiles were seen from my view in the mirror as I stepped up onto the pedestal.
 I gazed once again at the dress in the mirror. It was a gorgeous gown; there was no doubt. Feeling ready for their opinion, I turned around to face the peanut gallery. “What do you think?” My mother was quick to gush over the skirt. Bo Rim and Yuri both raved over the shiny beading on the bodice. Mrs. Nam, Jiho’s mother seemed to like it just fine. My eyes fell on Jisung who said nothing. He looked at me, arms crossed and fingers brushing over his bottom lip. “Ji?”
 “It’s....nice...”
Struggling not to laugh I replied, “One of the most incredible song writers I know and the only thing he has to say is ‘nice’?” My friend chuckled and his stare raked over the fabric before looking back up at my face.
“It’s not you. You don’t look like you. You look like some frilly puffy marshmallow girl.”
From anyone else the comment would offend but all I could do was laugh. “He’s right this is definitely not me.” Nodding the consultant ushered me back into the dressing room. Five dresses later, nothing felt right and I was beginning to get stressed out. “What do I do, Hyunsoon? Nothing feels right. I’m not feeling those....fireworks.” The beautiful woman looked at me in question. “Sorry, it’s something Jisung and I say to each other. It’s like our wish for the other to find so much happiness that it feels like...actual fireworks.” I explained with a light laugh. 
She sat down on the floor with me, moving the short silk robe further over my thigh, a gentle gesture. “Tell me more about your fiancee,” She kept her hand on my knee and rubbed soothing circles on my skin.
“Ummm....well...his name is Nam Jiho. He’s really nice and very very smart. Like holy fuck, he is insanely smart. He spends most of his time at work and he really likes to run as well.”
She looked at me expectantly. “That’s it?” I nodded, a little unsure of what else she wanted me to say. “And you love him?”
“Of course! What kind of a question is that? I’m getting married aren’t I?” Though I smiled, she could tell there was the smallest bit of insecurity. She thought for a minute tapping her fingers softly on my knee.
I felt somewhat lost among the mountains of white fabric scattered about the room. “Okay then! Whose opinion matters the most to you out of everyone you brought with you today?”
“Oh- Jisung. Of course.”
“Tell me about Jisung,”
A hefty sigh left my lips, but a small happy smile soon replaced it. “Jisung is....he’s like....my person you know? Like anytime I need him- even when I don’t need him- he’s always around. We grew up together. He is my everything. I trust him with more than my life. He’s just....Jisung. He is fully himself and unapologetic about it.” Ilaughed recalling thousands and thousands of memories with him. “He is a total asshole. Way too confident. But, he gets really shy sometimes. He’s also very genuine and has the biggest heart. Without Jisung...I wouldn't be who I am today.”
She smiled and pushed herself off the ground. “I will be right back!” Just as she closed the door, Hyunsoon winked over at me and left me alone in the dressing room.
Jisung’s POV
I was beginning to feel restless. Y/n hadn’t come out in at least thirty minutes. My leg was going to bounce off my body at this point. Unable to sit still any longer I pushed myself off the plush couch. It was getting harder and harder to control my heart seeing Y/n walk out in all these gowns knowing she was going to marry another man.
Wandering through the labyrinth-like rows of white frocks, I found myself thinking once again about Y/n. Not bothering to cage my thoughts they ran wild with daydreams of Y/n choosing dresses imagining what I would think of her walking down the aisle. Her smiling at me instead of that asshat, Jiho. 
Turning down an obviously dead end, my eyes fell on the mannequin standing in the center of the row. A delicate dress hung on the figure.Tattooed lace around the bodice and down the front of the gown to the hips fading like waves on shore. The back was low and open and my mind filled in the gaps, picturing Y/n’s soft skin laying beneath the fabric. My fingers brushed over the long thin sleeves. 
The sound of the a door closing snatched me from the my tantalizing reverie. “Oh- You’re Jisung right?” The woman asked walking closer. I recognized her as the one helping with Y/n’s appointment. I gave her a short nod, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket. “I actually need your help.”
“Anything for Y/n.” The beautiful woman’s brow quirked up and a smile slid onto her painted lips. “I mean....anything...for the bride.” 
Her tongue slid over her white teeth. There was so much white around, my head was starting to physically hurt. “Uh huh. Anyway! Y/n basically hates everything not only I have picked, but also everything she’s picked.” I stood waiting for the part where I could possibly help. “She trusts you. She wouldn’t stop talking about you.”
“I’m sorry....I don’t see how-”
“I see you’re looking at dresses. Have you seen one that you like? Maybe....one you would like...on Y/n?” My eyes fell to the floor, glancing over at the mannequin briefly. My quick gaze did not go unnoticed by Y/n’s consultant. “Well...Jisung....don’t you have good taste.” She walked over to dress form and checked the price tag before giving the gown a once over. “Revealing taste too....” She sang with a smirk. 
I looked away rubbing the back of my neck, the area feeling very itchy all of a sudden.  “I-I- uh...the dress just seems like her. It’s very.....mesmeric. Her.” 
“She did say you have a way with words.” Hyunsoon, I think her name was, walked over to one of the racks pushing past dresses until she pulled out one I assumed was in my bestfriend’s size. “Go sit back down! I know she’s going to love this one.” 
My head tilted back and I let out a sigh. As much as it pained me, I knew seeing that dress on Y/n and knowing it was ‘the one’ would be it for me. I’d snap and in front of all her family, soon to be and current, I’d confess how much I loved her and that I didn’t want her to marry that dick. I’d ruin what would be her perfect happy ending. Well...in her words....her ‘Moderatley-Happy-Fiancially-Stable Ending’.
“Actually...I’m gonna head out. I know she’s gonna love it. Tell her I hope she gets her fireworks.”
Willinging myself to start moving, I walked past Hyunsoon and towards the door, only stopping once. A glimpse. I caught only a glimpse. The door of Y/n’s dressing room opened and I saw the bright smile on her lips as she looked at the dress being brought to her. “That’s your last look, Han.” I mumbled under my breath. “Now turn around and walk out.” 
With every ounce of willpower left in my body, I did.
The TV droned in my rundown apartment. My two closest friends, outside the one I was deeply in love with, were half drunkenly lounged in my tiny living room. I scowled at the television, taking another drink from the bottle in my hand. 
“Dude- slow down. That’s like your sixth drink.” The eldest chided, tossing a balled up fast food wrapper at my head. 
Ignoring the fellow musician’s advice, I chugged the rest of the beer shooting Chan a look. “Chan let him be. You know what tomorrow is.” Changbin sighed. Turning, I found him hanging off an armchair upside down, scrolling through his phone. It was silent for a while until the inverted boy spoke up again. “I still don’t get why she’s marrying that douchebag.”
Knowing where this conversation was going I escaped to the kitchen, preoccupying myself with grabbing another beer from the fridge. the other two boys paid me no mind and continued the discussion as if I was invisible. Chan’s attention turned back to me as I plopped down next to him on the dusty old couch. “Han, didn’t you say you caught the guy cheating like....multiple times....” 
It was true. I had caught Jiho not once, not twice, not even three times, but four times I had got him with other women. Jiho liked to go out to clubs. The scumbag would pretend that he was working late so Y/n would be none the wiser, then he would stay out until three in the morning drinking and getting with random girls he met. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to frequent establishments he knew I wouldn’t be at. My music career was in the dumps lately and I had resorted to DJ-ing at downtown clubs.
That fucking asshole even had the audacity to flirt with other girl while Y/n was around. She had invited me out with the two of them for drinks  after a promotion at work. The second she leaves for the bathroom Jiho starts making moves on the waitress. Right in front of me. 
“Yeah....well, there’s nothing I can do about it.” On multiple occasions I had tried to tell Y/n about her terrible fiancee. Every time I tried, all I could see was the look of hope on her face. the look that practically begged for me to tell her that Jiho and I were finally getting along. And....I couldn’t do it. I could never do it. 
“Boo hoo. Horton hears a bitch ass liar!” Changbin slurred from his awkward position. 
“What?”
“That is quite possibly the biggest lie you have ever told.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Chan yanked the beer out of my grip and handed me a water bottle instead. “Oh and what do you suppose I do then?” I managed to get the words out before Chan less than gently shoved the water in my face. 
The man beside me sighed and shifted to face me fully. “You love Y/n. Yes or No?”
“Yes.”
“She needs to know that.” I shook my head. No, she did not need to know that. I was not going to be the reason Y/n ruined her chance at a good life. Looking around my apartment I saw nothing but disappointment. Most months it was hard to make rent and I could barely afford to do anything but the bare necessities. She deserved better than what I could give her. “We all know Y/n is only settling. This is definitely not the fairytale ending she always talked about.”
“Chan, there’s no such thing as fairytales. Even Y/n knows that.” Inwardly, I grimaced at my own words. Had Y/n been around to hear those words I would have been slapped upside the head. 
“How do you know that? Do you have proof?” Changbin mused, a drunk smile on his face. “Let’s say this is a fairytale. You and Y/n have to be the main characters! The prince and the princess always get to together in the end! Duhhh!”
Even in my sour and depressed mood it was easy to laugh as Changbin slid off the armchair and landed on his head. “He does have a point, Ji.” Chan said, listing his head back onto the couch. Two of his fingers pushed the bottom of the bottle back up towards my face. “You’re the leading man in your own life, dude. Stop acting like the best friend. If you want her go get her.”
My thumb brushed over the grooves in the plastic . The alcohol was quickly clearing out of my system. A numbness filled my body as I contemplated the options put in front of me. Maybe it was time for me to be selfish. Maybe it was time for me to get what I wanted. 
Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself off the sofa and headed for the door. 
Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours before my best friend’s wedding and I was walking to her house at two in the morning to confess my feelings for her. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mumbled under my breath. The view of her parents house was growing closer as I walked down the street. Y/n told me earlier in the week she would be staying there the night before the big day. 
Just like so many nights in our teen-dom, a familiar yellow glow from Y/n’s bedroom window illuminated the street below her house. Through the second story window I could see glimpses of movement. For a moment I just stood, doubting all the decisions I made in the last twenty minutes. I could chicken out here. Turn around and go home. She would never know. 
Just as I was about to turn around, I was caught in daze by the image in the window. Y/n stepped into view, radient like a new morning. From the little I could see from the street, she was wearing the dress I had picked from the boutique. Her hair was messily pushed back and strands fell in front of her eyes. The glint of the standing mirror flashed across from where she stood. Her beautiful E/c eyes trained on her reflection. 
She was breathtaking. My chest got tight just looking at her and a cold sweat was born on my palms. I watched as she rung her hands together, nervously twisting the rings on her fingers; a habit we both shared. Y/n let out a shaky breath before returning her gaze to the looking glass, this time with a smile. 
Her delicate fingers reached up and brushed her cheek before they stretched out as if to shake some invisible person’s hand. Her smile grew brighter as she talked to this imaginary person. She laughed and looked truly the happiest I had seen her in a long time. 
My eyes fell to the road, scuffing my shoe on the asphalt. She was happy. No matter how badly I wanted her.....there was no way I was going to take that away from her. Y/n’s happiness mattered more than mine. I could find comfort in the knowledge that she would be happy. That she would be taken care of. That she got everything she deserved. Everything I could never give her. 
Turning on my heel, the cold air and truth bleeding me sober, I walked back into the city away from my happy ending. 
Y/n’s POV
Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours before my wedding and I was questioning everything for absolutely no reason. The rest of my family was long asleep. Yet, here I sat in my wedding dress feeling like everything I was doing, every decision I made.....was wrong. I felt like crying for no reason, my throat refusing to be anything but tight. 
Coming to my feet, I smoothed out the gorgeous gown and walked with no purpose until I found myself staring at the mirror on the far side of the room. The girl on the other side of the glass looked like a bride. Why wasn’t I happy with that?
Standing up tall like my mother lectured many times in the past few days, I pursed my lips and put on a pained smile. “Hi, I’m Mrs. Nam Jiho,” The name felt unclean coming from my lips. Tilting my head, I rubbed my face before staring back at my reflection. I sighed pushing back the feeling of tears begging to spill over. 
“It’s nice to meet you, my name is Nam Y/n.” I shivered, swallowing the last bit of moisture in my mouth. “Nam....Y/n.....Y/n Nam....Mrs.Nam Y/n.” The more I tried to look at the person who I would become the more I felt like crying. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Mrs. Nam Y/n....” Before I could finish the words I broke into tears. Loud sobs filled my room and all I could do was stare at the hollow shell reflected in my mirror. 
My heart ached. The air in the room around me felt heavy, like a weight on my shoulders, pushing me down into the ground. Pushing past the lump in my throat, my eyes returned to the mirror, this time fixating on the photos framing the glass. Pictures of my friends and family.
 My heart lifted seeing a photo of Jisung and me. It was an old picture from highschool, probably taken on one of those disposable cameras you could get at corner stores. His school uniform was slightly too big for his then thin frame. My skirt was just a little too long and my shoes were never quite the right size. We were seated on the bleachers outside the school. Jisung sat on the row above me and let me rest between his legs. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, as he leaned around to kiss my cheek. I was caught in the middle of a laugh and Jisung looked so happy right next to me. 
I smiled remembering the day from the printed memory. A friend we both had lost touch with had taken the photo while we weren’t looking. We then got teased for days afterwards. My fingers brushed over the delicate fabric of the dress. The dress that Jisung had chosen. Jisung. Almost every happy moment of my life....was tied to Jisung. Taking a step forward, I looked back in the mirror. Sniffing away the tears, I smiled. 
“I’m please to meet you....I’m Mrs. Han Jisung,” 
The smile on my face grew bigger and my heart swelled. Reaching up I brushed away the tears that spilled over before holding my hand as if meeting one of the guests at my wedding. “Jisung and I are so pleased you could come to our wedding,” 
The feeling in my chest had me wishing to cry all over again but for a different reason. I wanted to jump and scream at the top of my lungs the name ‘Han Y/n’. The more I said it, the more I felt like a teenager again. 
All I could think about was Jisung. His dark hair, dyed one too many times, leaving it slightly damaged but somehow still soft. His big, round, doe eyes. The way he told the stupidest jokes. His voice- not just when he sang, but even simply speaking his voice was one of my favorite sounds. Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I pulled away finding them hot. 
“Fuck...I’m in love with Jisung.”
“Okay, I need everyone to give me some fucking space!” I shouted, effectively silencing my dressing room. One by one, my maid of honor ushered the ladies out. I let slip one time that I am having second thoughts and all hell breaks loose. 
Sitting at the vanity, my head fell into my hands. I was dejected. Confused. And obviously sitting with a pretty big headache. I hadn’t heard from Jisung since the dress appointment and he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning. It was like he was avoiding me. Eyeing the champagne on table I contemplated drinking the whole damn bottle then just going through with the event. As much as I wanted to get married, I didn’t want to do it to someone I didn’t love. 
Standing up, I manuevered the champagne filled vessel away from my body and popped it, the sound letting loose a satisfying echo. The bubbly liquid filled the glass flute I picked up. My first sip was interrupted by a knock on the door. 
“I told you guys I needed space! Just fuck off!”
Downing the glass, I turned to pour another one. Drunk ceremony was looking like my best option right about now. The click of the dressing room door opening caused my ears to prick up. “I said fuck off-”
“That’s not very nice language coming from the bride.” 
Jisung stood in the doorway, hesitant smile on his face. His hair was almost styled, pieces still falling loose over his forehead. A black blazer hung over an untucked slightly wrinkled white dress shirt. His slender hands were shoved in the pockets of his blue jeans. 
“Coming from you that’s rich,” He watched me drink in his appearance. “Jeans, Ji? You come to my wedding in jeans and Doc Martens?” 
My best friend rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trained on the carpeted floor. “To be honest....I wasn’t sure I was coming at all.”
I blinked, trying to process the words just said to me. My best friend....the man I loved more than anything in the world...said he almost didn’t come to my wedding. “Excuse me?”
“Y/n....we need to talk....” 
My chest tightened in anticipation as I watched Jisung close the door. He stayed on the opposite side of the room seemingly nervous or afraid to even look my way. A hint of a smile appeared as I watched Jisung anxiously turn the silver rings around his fingers. “Ji, have you been avoiding me...”
Instead of answering, the man’s eyes fell to the bottle on the vanity. He motioned to it, wordlessly asking for a glass. Stepping away, I allowed him enough room to cross and pour a glass for himself. He downed the flute like a shot almost making me laugh at the similarity between us. “Didn’t you want to get married outside? In a forest if I remember correctly?”
“Don’t change the subject, Jisung.”
“I’m not.” For the first time I felt like Jisung really looked at me. His eyes seemed to soften. Before I could once again appreciate how beguiling his eyes were, they retreated back to their place on the floor. “Y/n....this isn’t you. You deserve a fairytale ending. Your fairytale ending. You don’t deserve a shotgun wedding in some church with nobody watching just waiting for the hour de vours to be passed out.”
“I’m not pregnant. This isn’t a shotgun-”
“Please just let me finish, Y/n....”
Nodding, I leaned against the vanity and watched my friend’s hands brushed through his dark locks. The silver hanging from his ears glinted in the bright fluorescent lighting. “Y/n...Don’t....don’t get married.” He seemed encouraged by my reaction, or lack thereof. “I think about you a little more than I should. A lot more actually. For a long time. Y/n/n, I’ve been in love with you since grade school.”
A familiar lump began to form in my throat and a pit formed in my stomach. Gaining confidence, Jisung’s eyes met mine. “It’s been killing me...seeing you with that asshole. I know you’re happy. I know that you’re better off with him. He can give you everything that I can’t, because you deserve to have a nice house. You deserve to be spoiled with gifts and trips. You deserve to not come home every night and worry whether the rent has been paid.” Jisung stopped and stared at the empty glass in his hands. 
“You always talked about fairytales when we were little. Well...my fairytale would just be us. No magic. No princes and princesses. Cause you’re enough for me. More than enough. Y/n, you’re it for me. You’re my fairytale.”
His eyes widened seeing a single tear rolling down my cheek. Before continuing Jisung watched me with shaking hands carefully set the glass flute on the vanity behind me. 
“I- I want you to be happy. If you’re happy with Jiho then I will go out into that church and clap when you get hitched. Because, that's what friends fucking do and that I can give you. But...if there is any chance....any part of you...that loves me at all....even a little bit....”
He gulped, fingers ferociously twisting the rings on his right hand. Not many would believe it, but Jisung was shy. Introverted. It was rare to see him like this. Jisung wasn’t afraid or nervous, but more timid or demure. I could almost see his heart physically stop beating as I opened my mouth to speak.
“I’m not happy, Ji.” He blinked, big, brown, doe eyes trying to understand what I meant. “I want to be. But, I can’t be happy with someone I don’t love. I don’t care about the money or the gifts. I just.....want my fireworks. I think you can understand that more than anyone.”
Jisung nodded dejectedly, shoving his hands into the pockets of the blazer that seemed to be holding itself together with only a few threads. He seemed to not understand what I was saying. “I do....understand- I mean. That’s all I want for you. If you can’t be happy with Jiho or me then-”
“Fuck, Ji. You really are dense aren’t you?”
“What?”
Reaching forward, I twisted the collar of Jisung’s slightly unbuttoned shirt and pulled him closer. Before our lips even touched I could feel electricity in the air, sparking and making room hotter. Finally feeling my lips against his sent my stomach on a rollercoaster; twisting, turning, loop de loops, and free falls giving me the greatest feeling spreading to the rest of my body. 
The feeling of my fingers sliding up his neck, must have brought Jisung out of whatever shock induced daze he was in. Like second nature his arms wrapped around me, cool hands pressing into the bare skin of my back. There was nothing but fire in my stomach as Jisung dragged his lips over mine at a painstakingly slow pace. The man smiled feeling me pull and tangle my fingers in his soft dark tresses. 
“Fireworks?” I asked, pulling away with my bottom lip snagged between my teeth. 
“Millions.” Jisung’s thumb brushed over my cheek before he leaned back in capturing my lips in another death defying kiss. “Did you drive here? I took the train.” He mumbled between kisses.
I laughed feeling happier than any moment before in my life. “My car is out back. You’re driving.”
Opening my eyes, I saw that signature smirk my best friend was famous for. For the first time I knew why my insides did flips when it was directed at me. Lacing his fingers with mine he dragged me from the dressing room and led me through the halls as fast as we could run with one of us in a wedding dress. As we reached the car, slamming the doors shut, the bells in the chapel started to ring making the both of us grin. Jisung leaned over, fastening my seatbelt before kissing my lips like they were his only source of air.
“You make quite the gorgeous runaway bride,”
Masterlist
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equestrianwritingsstuff · 4 years ago
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I hope you are having a great day.
I wanted to tell you that I love the way you write and how you show the personality of your characters in so few words.
Also if you have time, for the Bad Things Happend Bingo, could I ask for a Soup for the Sick? (Maybe a villain whumpee)
Tumblr media
Thank you for the ask! And especially thank you for that lovely message attached to it, it means a lot!
Soup for the sick... here you go, I hope you enjoy! I did, I had lots of fun writing this one.
Personalized Caretaker
@badthingshappenbingo
Warnings: drug abuse mention, feverish whumpee, talk of medications, mean caretaker, delirium, fever, pills (tylenol)
... there may be more so tell me if there is so I can list them.
~
Civilian wished that she didn't live in the most heavily super-powered city in the world.
Yes world.
Villains and heroes all running around like teenagers, not caring for the lives of innocent civilians... or the heroes were meant to, Civilian started to think that the whole "we will protect you" was all phony propaganda aimed to get the city to fund their organization.
But the daily bombings and increasing death toll was not the issue with the city. It wasn't even the large mass of heroes and villains. It was only one.
One.
Of all the heroic figures and devilish snakes, there was only one that ticked Civilian off.
Villain.
And not because he was the King of Monologues. No, it was because the bastard made Civilian his own personal caretaker.
Was she asked to tend to his very needs? No.
Was she hired? Paid? No, but she should be getting a salary for the tedious work of stitching wounds and feeding his greedy stomach. The bandage bills were adding up and Civilian's meager wage was completely wiped out from having to buy a pack every day.
She was an inch away from going on a rage and robbing every bank in the city.
No, she wasn't. She just happened to live on 489 Deertree Avenue, where six months ago the murderous villain decided to collapse unconscious on her doorstep to bleed out like it was no problem.
Like it was a leisure, a recreational activity. Probably to him, waking up in a warm bed, doped up on painkillers with the sickening sweet smell of caramel candles burning around him, it was.
But not to Civilian. She had to manually help the injured individual drink water, get dressed, and even use the bathroom.
UGGGHHHH!
The man had millions of henchmen, billions of wannabe minions at his beck and call.
But he just so happened to have a crush on the red door of 489 Deertree Avenue.
But it was a bad case of unrequited love of the highest order, so no hope of a romantic candlelit date at the most expensive restaurant in the most famous city in the world.
Dairy Queen.
The pure hilarity of that fact. Even the Avenger Tower did not hold nearly as many powered or high-tech individuals as the city and the most fanciest restaurant was a chain fastfood restaurant at the corner of main street.
Civilian clenched the towel she was holding. As much as the stupidity of the city got on her nerves, it was very unpatriotic of her to go on and embarrass the area even more.
Civilian was scrubbing the mirror in the bathroom. The walls of the whole room were stained in the most disgusting brown and red from all the grime and blood radiating off a singular person's- not even the owner of the house- body.
Those would never go away unless Civilian paid for someone to come and mega-wash the bathroom. Not that she had any money to invest in such a delightful gift, her bank account was too busy supporting the prescribed pain medications. Like, Civilian was probably on the watchlist for utter bankruptcy and for being a possible candidate for drug addiction.
Who needs two whole containers of opioids and a canteen of valium every three months?
Not a normal civilian washing floors at Walmart, that's for sure.
But then again, Civilian was far from normal. She worked as a personalized savior during her freetime.
Civilian clenched her teeth and took a deep breath in. Her ward hasn't made his grand appearance in over a week. She actually had time to relax, make some popcorn and actually decompress. It was like vacation, peaceful, tranquil and full of serenity, free of any-
Knock, knock, knock.
Civilian's moment of bliss was unceremoniously ended by the all too familiar beat of a fist on wood.
"You have my permission to make out with the door Villain! You don't need to ask anymore!"
Civilian hoped Villain was coherent enough to internalize that as an invitation to bleed on her couch.
Just so she could have one more moment. One more moment of her coveted break.
Cough.
Civilian's head perked up. That was new. She never, ever heard Villain cough in a sickly manner- she never let him get bad enough to get sick, or he didn't permit himself to wait around until infection and fever set in.
She set down the towel, worry settling into her bones like it always did- not that she liked the heart dropping feelings and nauseating pit in her stomach each and everytime Mr. Needy had blood on him. Or everyday that he didn't show up for a bandaid, or a "kiss-it-better".
Yes, the pure humiliation when her delirious patient painfully begged her to kiss his knee better. Like, the puny scrape on his leg was by far the least severe wound on his bloodstained body, but of course, Civilian complied and gave him a little peck on his Olaf bandaid.
Civilian ripped open the door and the scene in front of her chased away those obnoxious memories.
Villain collapsed into her arms, head lolling pathetically against her shoulder. His forehead felt like it was doused with gasoline and then lit by a torch five times over. Civilian's shocked arms involuntarily wrapped around his equally scorching body. Yes, it was not a conscious act. Not in a million years would Civilian muster up the compassion to actually comfort the villain more than the deed of "saving his life" called for.
No, no Civilian hated Villain. Completely and totally loathed each and every cell on his body.
But she dragged him into the house and shut- more like slammed- the door anyways because she couldn't let him die, it would be like murder's sidekick.
Especially since Villain trusted her. Oh how he trusted her. Trusted her to bathe him, to feed him, to give him medicine, but most importantly not to kill him. With all the horrors he committed, a swift knife to the throat would be more than justified. In fact, Civilian would likely be commemorated for such bravery.
Public approval, fame... all a deliciously yummy cake.
Not worth it. Too many calories.
Civilian sunk to the ground and put Villain's upper body in her lap. He nestled into her, pressing his cheek deep into her side with a small, contented smile on his pale face.
"Don't drool on me," Civilian snapped, jostling Villain who woke up. Before he had the chance to get his bearings, Civilian spoke up again, "Are you hurt?"
The villain stared at her for a while before breaking into desperate tears, shaking his head.
What the heck?
"Stop crying or I will punch you," Civilian threatened, but she rubbed Villain's back soothingly.
"Dying," Villain sobbed.
"You are not dying, buddy, you have a cold."
"No, I'm dying," Villain asserted. Civilian rolled her eyes. Did he have to be so dramatic?
"I don't think a cold will kill you. Stop acting like the world is ending now, or I will throw you in the trash."
Villain whimpered and pulled himself closer, still crying.
He really was sick. So sick to the point of being delirously delusional.
"You don't need to be a Disney princess," Civilian said, still rubbing the villain's back. Villain's cries turned into sobs and then into wails.
Okay this was getting out of hand. Civilian stood up and dragged Villain's body over to the couch. She marveled in her strength for a while. When Villain first made his appearance in her otherwise boring life, she was as skinny as a twig. Now? This girl was a freaking hulk, baby.
Okay stop that, Civilian chastised herself, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. She laid Villain on the beige colored couch and rested his wet head against a pillow that was metaphorically marked with his name.
Now that the villain was completely stretched out, Civilian- to her relief- found that he was not bleeding, therefore, she didn't have to waste her precious supply of gauze and bandages tonight.
But he still was very, very sick. His face was a gray mask of pale complexion, his hair snarled and matted in sweat. His lips were tinged blue as unfocused eyes gazed around the room, landing on the TV.
"You want to watch something?" Civilian asked, though the question was more than unnecessary. Villain always watched a movie as he dozed off, warm and comforted by the mound of blankets strewn over him.
But still, like a habit, he nodded weakly each and every time. Civilian smiled, the tiniest of grins, and connected the tablet to the television. When the screen popped up with the classic Amazon Prime Video layout, Civilian asked what movie.
"Boss Baby," Villain mumbled, lips hardly moving.
"You want to watch a movie with baby superheroes? Why don't we watch Toy Story or something?"
Or something a bit more adult-ish.
"Mhm," Villain groaned, eyes slipping shut. "Baby superheroes."
Now it was Civilian's turn to groan, loud and exaggerated. But, still he was her unwelcome guest so she had to please his obnoxiously childish wants.
Like how old was he? Five?
Civilian put in the movie and sat down next to Villain, putting his legs on her lap. She tapped lazily at his jeans as the opening credits showed. Leaning her head back, Civilian allowed her gaze to drift away from the stupid fat-faced animated figures and to Villain.
He was nearly asleep.
Civilian shifted her weight and rested against her arm to watch him. Even sick, she had to admit, the evil and annoying villain was shockingly handsome.
What was she thinking?!
Pushing Villain's feet away, Civilian stood up and aggressively shoved her palm to his forehead. It was buzzing with heat.
"You are paying for the bill," Civilian growled and went to go get some tylenol.
Upon returning to the sickly man's sweaty side, Civilian thrusted the pills into his mouth and washed them down with water. She didn't even give him a chance to wake up fully, the motion was instinctual. He swallowed on reflex.
Next, Civilian cussed herself for this, she cupped his cheek. Villain sunk into her palm, chewing silently, and continued to sleep.
When Villain first visited, Civilian couldn't get over how touch starved the poor guy was. It was to the point of absolute fear of touch. He would shiver before violently flinching away, glaring daggers.
He still didn't allow hugs or a highfive when he was in his right mind- not that Civilian saw him fully conscious ever apart from a couple times.
"Hungry?" Civilian mumbled, more to herself than anyone.
Still, Civilian placed Villain's head back onto the pillow and went into the kitchen to make some soup.
Chicken noodle soup with rice... her specialty. Chicken breast and rich seasoning, even one's dampened taste buds could taste the utter deliciousness of the watery broth.
Then the rice. Sometimes when Villain was on the mend, she would add some wild rice or lentils to the dish. Spooning some basic white rice into the bottom of the bowl, Civilian tapped her foot aimlessly.
The kettle on the stove whistled, Civilian pushed it off the heat and added the seasoning and celery. The savory scent wafted into her nose earning itself a tiny smile from Civilian.
Once the soup was done, she presented it to the still sleeping villain. His mouth hung open, desperate for air that his clogged nostrils couldn't deliver.
Dang. Poor guy was really ill.
Civilian sat next to Villain, so close that she could feel the rise of his chest. She shoved his face upwards. Villain blinked his eyes open and settled his gaze on Civilian's annoyed, but worried, face.
"Ghm," he moaned, rumbled in the back of his throat in a fatigued manner. "Cow hopping."
"Shut up," Civilian scolded and helped Villain to a seating position. He complied, but had no strength left to actually hold the stance.
So Civilian was forced to lay him against her chest and feed him by giving him a big old bear hug. Spoon after spoon went to his mouth until Civilian was just dumping it into his mouth without any natural swallowing reflex.
She took a wet rag and cleaned his face before laying him back onto the couch. Civilian smiled and tenderly touched his eyebrow.
Why did she have to care about him so much?
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tennessoui · 4 years ago
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oh my god literally every single prompt on that list is gold and i'd love to see your obikin take for all of them. hmmm... if i had to choose i guess first 13. co-stars au?? thank you lots of love !!!
ah bless!! thank you so much!! i'm slowly working my way through most of the prompts on that list so you might see many many more before I'm done with my ask box. I think after two more, I'll put em on ao3 to keep em more organized too. this has been soooo fun!!
13. Co-Stars AU(/7. Fake Relationship AU)(2.5 k)
“No.”
“Ani, darling, you can’t say no.”
“Don’t call me that. And secondly, I can. I just did. This is my personal life, the company has no control over that.”
“While you’re filming its movie and it’s giving you money, you’ll actually find that it does, Anakin.”
Anakin sits down heavily on the bench outside his trailer, leaning forward until he can put his head in his hands. He wants to run his fingers through the mess on his head, but they’re in between takes right now and the make-up department will definitely kill him if they have to fix him up again.
“Asajj, please. You know how hard it was to get to come out as bisexual. If the first person I date after that is a woman, no one will remember! It’ll just be completely erased, and I’ll be Anakin Skywalker, Playboy Actor again.”
“But you do like women,” Asajj points out. “So either way, you’d be confirming your sexuality.”
Anakin sighs and leans his head back against the metal of the trailer. “And it would be different if I was actually in love with Padme, but she’s just my co-star and--”
“Anakin, she’s your co-star. You’re in a blockbuster movie where you dramatically save her life and then kiss her as the credits roll. This is just business. You like her. You’re friends. Think of it less like dating, and more like going to grab lunch together. And coffee. Maybe a fancy dinner. Several times a week.”
“For how long?” Anakin asks, resigned and despairing and hating the fact that he ever got into acting.
Asajj sounds relieved. “Just until the movie’s out and sales are doing well.”
That could be months. That would be months. “And I have to?” he asks.
“Yes,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
Anakin doesn’t say it’s fine. It doesn’t feel like it is fine.
“They’re not looking for anything to be confirmed. If asked about your relationship with Padme, tell them you think she’s a great woman and you’re enjoying spending time with her. No comment on any sort of serious relationship.”
“Because a break-up afterwards might hurt the chances for a sequel?” Anakin asks drily.
“Exactly! We’ll get you a head for the business yet, Anakin. Okay, I have to go, but I’ll send you the information now, just so you know what you’ll be expected to do. We’re thinking a dinner tomorrow to start things off strong, and then slow afterwards!”
She hangs up before he can say anything else and he slumps back boneless against the metal trailer. God.
It’s not that he doesn’t like Padme. Ventress is right. They were friends before this project and Anakin knows they’ll be friends after as well. They genuinely get along, and it’s probably one of the reasons Anakin was cast in such a big name production: the chemistry between them when they’re acting is undeniable. She’s one of his favorite people in the entire industry.
“Anakin?” One of his other favorite people in the entire industry asks hesitantly from in front of him. “Are you alright?”
“No,” he says.
“May I sit?”
“Yeah,” he says.
Like he’d ever turn Obi-Wan Kenobi away.
“Are you wearing your costume?” he asks, without opening his eyes. Obi-Wan’s playing the villain of the movie, and Anakin has a hard time focusing on anything else when Obi-Wan’s around him wearing that skin-tight white turtleneck and cape combination, with his hair slicked back and fake glasses perched on his nose.
Obi-Wan sounds amused. “No, I’m finished for the day. Heading home now. You don’t have to see how silly I look today.”
Anakin smiles slightly, despite everything. In one of his better acting moments, he’d told Obi-Wan that his costume was distracting because it looked so funny on him. Really, it was just hot.
(Of course, Obi-Wan had taken his criticism seriously and gone to the director and the costume department. They had decided that it would make Obi-Wan’s character more threatening if he pushed up his sleeves in almost every scene to reveal heavily tattooed forearms. Anakin had hated himself and his big stupid mouth for days afterwards.)
“Is...there anything I can do to help, Anakin? I hate to see you like this,” Obi-Wan places a hand gently on Anakin’s knee, and Anakin has to fight a shiver at the touch.
They’d met at the script-reading for the movie, a handful of months ago. Anakin had set two clocks in his head the moment their hands grasped each other and Obi-Wan smiled charmingly up at him. “So you’re the one to kill me?” He’d winked. “Tall order.”
One clock signified the weeks it would take for him to fall in love with the older man. The starting number was pitifully small, but Anakin had been watching Obi-Wan’s movies and interviews for years before meeting him. He’d known something about the man, which of course had paled in comparison to knowing the man himself. They’d spent two weeks choreographing the steps of the final fight scene, just the two of them in a repurposed ballet studio.
Looking back, Anakin isn’t sure how he’d survived. And he had never wanted it to end.
Which is the other clock, still ticking down in his head. The moment filming ends, and they go their separate ways. They’ll probably keep in touch, but Anakin won’t see him constantly, won’t be able to lean into the weight of Obi-Wan’s hand on his shoulder, his knee, sometimes even on his cheek when he leans down in between takes to tell him how good of a job he’s done.
“Anakin?”
“Sorry,” Anakin snaps to the present. “Sorry. I was in my head. I. I don’t think so, no.”
“Oh,” Obi-Wan says, tensing his hand as if he’s planning to remove it, which Anakin wouldn’t appreciate in the slightest.
“My agent says that the executives want me to date Padme. To drum up hype for the movie. Because I guess people will think it must be good if the co-stars start fucking each other?” He runs a hand across his face. “Um. Sorry, excuse my language.”
“Anakin, I’m forty-one, I think I’ve heard someone say fuck before,” Obi-Wan sounds amused again.
“Yeah, I just. Don’t want to? I guess maybe--I mean you probably didn’t see, but I came out as bisexual a year ago, and I haven’t dated anyone since, and I just know the way the rags will write about me and Padme if we’re seen together. And it’ll be like I just. Never came out.”
Obi-Wan makes a sympathetic noise but doesn’t interrupt. It’s one of the reasons Anakin loves talking to him.
“And my agent just sent me this contract, or I don’t know, list of things I have to do because there’s no way for me to get out of this and it just makes me feel trapped. But they don’t even want me to confirm if we're dating or not dating, they just want to create rumors about it, but it’s my life. I want to do what I want to do with my life, date who I want to date.”
“Do you...have anyone you want to date?” Obi-Wan asks, hand stilling from where he’s been casually rubbing circles on Anakin’s knee.
“No,” Anakin says too quickly and then grimaces. Does he really get paid for acting? He’s always so terrible at lying.
Obi-Wan hums. “I could...take a look at whatever papers your agent sent you?” He suggests. “I’m obviously not really an expert, but I have been in the business a fair bit longer than you.”
“You’re not that old,” Anakin responds by rote, but hesitates, curious despite himself. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“I’ve nothing planned tonight except to have a glass of wine and pet my cat, Anakin. It would be a pleasure to help you any way I could.”
“Okay,” Anakin says, reaching out to lay his hand gently on top of Obi-Wan’s. He’s never done that before, never responded so openly to Obi-Wan’s touches. It’s an amazing thrill.
Obi-Wan flips his hand around until they’re holding hands, basically. In the middle of a public area. God, Anakin’s letting his crush get the best of him when Obi-Wan isn’t even gay. “Thank you,” he says, standing up and pulling away from the older man. It’s the right thing to do. The last thing he wants is for Obi-Wan to think he’s...predatory.
A harried looking crew member spots him as he stands and gestures to him to get back to the set. He smiles ruefully at Obi-Wan who gives him an unreadable expression but also a soft goodbye.
Later, in between takes, he forwards Obi-Wan the emails Asajj sent him, both the papers and the message at the top that says “dress nice for tomorrow at Delfino’s!” followed by a little smiley face he can’t believe she’d ever mean.
He knows nothing’s going to come of it, but. But he has to try.
----
Padme’s dressed to the nines in front of him. He’d compliment her outfit, but he’s already complimented her hair and her make-up, and he thinks she’ll scream if he continues to act as stilted as he’s being now.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly after the waiter leaves with their drink orders. “I know I’m being--awkward. I just.”
They’re seated in the middle of the restaurant, and Anakin knows there’s two paps already outside, taking pictures through the windows. The rest will have arrived by the time they pay the bill and leave. It’s a circus and he’s the main event.
“I understand,” Padme responds, the angel that she is. “I don’t particularly want to be doing this either.”
Anakin presses his hand to his chest, jokingly wounded. “What are you trying to say, Padme, my beloved, my dearest?”
She laughs and he does too, but in the back of his head he can hear the sound of a camera’s shutter clicking. Everything feels fake, and he feels like he’s about to crawl out of his skin.
A hand lands on his shoulder with startling familiarity and for a second he thinks it’s a very brave member of the wait-staff, before Obi-Wan Kenobi is swinging into his field of vision, pulling up a chair from god knows where and sitting right in between Anakin and Padme, never once removing his hand from Anakin’s jacket.
“Sir--” someone says in distress, “This is a two-person table.”
Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow and looks down at the table. “Well it certainly can fit three, so I would go as far as to say that tonight it can be a three-person table. Anakin, what did you order to drink?”
“The house white,” Padme supplies when Anakin makes no move to respond, instead choosing to gape at Obi-Wan like a fish out of water.
“Excellent choice, darling,” Obi-Wan says, rubbing at his upper arm absent-mindedly. “I’ve never been here, tell me. Do you serve a good seafood dish?”
The waiter stammers. “We have an acclaimed oyster platter, sir--”
“Oysters?” Obi-Wan smiles at the man, all teeth. “The aphrodisiac? What are you trying to get these kids in the mood for?”
Anakin blushes. “Obi-Wan!” He hisses, aghast. Obi-Wan’s eyes cut to him for a second before he smirks back at the waiter.
“I’ll take the oysters for the main course,” he says dismissively.
Somehow it’s that sentence that tips Anakin off, more than anything else he’s done tonight. Obi-Wan spends hours talking to the people that run the crafts table. He would never be so cold or rude naturally. He’s...playing a character, one that Anakin recognizes as being the villain from their movie (although without all the blood and murder).
Anakin only recedes into personas when he’s nervous about something. Can the same be said for Obi-Wan?
Padme, at least, looks amused. “Hello, Obi-Wan,” she says. “I see you’ve decided to crash our very romantic date.”
“Well that’s interesting, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan replies, turning to face her but keeping his hand on Anakin, although it slides down to rest on the crook of his arm. “I had Anakin send me the paperwork, mild curiosity, you know how it is, and I realized the strangest thing while I was reading over it.”
“Oh?” Padme asks.
“It never states which co-star Anakin should be seen with, just that he must be seen with a leading actor. And I don’t want to focus on the numbers here, of course, but in the rough-cut of the movie, I have thirty-four minutes of screentime. And you, my dear, have thirty-two and fifteen seconds.”
“Tragic,” Padme says, taking a sip of her water. "You may be considered more of a leading actor than I am."
“Certainly,” Obi-Wan gives her a friendly smile. Anakin is still stuck on the fact that Obi-Wan is here, that he read the paperwork, that he’s arguing semantics for the purpose of--of--
“And I suppose you’re here to offer yourself as a replacement?” Padme asks, leaning her head on her hand as she watches the two of them.
“Only if Anakin wouldn’t mind,” Obi-Wan says, turning to face him.
Anakin isn’t sure what he’s thinking right now. “But you’re not interested in men.”
“I am,” Obi-Wan says.
“But...you’re not interested in me.”
“I am,” Obi-Wan says.
“You are?”
“Excuse me,” Padme says. “I’m going to go to the restroom.”
“We’ll wait to order until you come back,” Obi-Wan reassures her, without taking his eyes off of Anakin.
Anakin bites his lip and hesitantly brings his hand up to sit palm up on the table. Obi-Wan doesn’t hesitate to intertwine their fingers again, like they had been just yesterday.
“I’m a very private person, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says quietly, all traces of any sort of persona dropped from his voice. “I’ve never come out, never wanted to. But I was so proud that you had when you did. And I--well. I suppose. You already get to fake-kiss Padme on screen, I thought that perhaps you’d like to try to fake-kiss someone else for a change.”
Anakin ducks his head and gathers his courage. He can’t not ask. A fake relationship with Padme would be awful, but one with Obi-Wan? That would be torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. He’s still reeling from the information that apparently Obi-Wan does like men and apparently he likes Anakin enough to come out for him.
But does he like Anakin enough to touch him and mean it? He has to know. He looks up at Obi-Wan’s earnest face from beneath his eyelashes. “What if I want to real-kiss you?”
Obi-Wan blinks, and a smile breaks out across his face. “Then you don’t even need to have to ask, darling. Kiss me all you want, if you’re okay with a clingy old man in your bed.”
“Not that old,” Anakin argues, smiling so hard he’s afraid his face will crack in two. “But I don’t want to kiss you tonight.”
Obi-Wan turns solemn, although his grip on Anakin remains tight. “We can go as slow as you’re comfortable with.”
“Oh, you can have me later,” Anakin says, waving his free hand in the air. “I just don’t want our first kiss to be for the cameras.”
Obi-Wan catches Anakin’s palm and brings it up to kiss lightly. “You’re right, Anakin. That should just be for you and me.”
The rough brush of his lips over his skin causes Anakin to shiver. He’s never felt so on edge, as if his body is a live-wire. “Good thing you ordered the oysters,” he mumbles, blushing bright red as Obi-Wan laughs loud enough to fill the whole restaurant with its sound.
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nicknellie · 4 years ago
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Anonymous requested: Carrie and Flynn play love interests on TV, and viewers ship them together hard core, not knowing that off camera there is some MAJOR pining (hidden by fake “hatred” for each other) happening. featuring background willex being exasperated by their lesbian friends not knowing how to function around each other?
I’m sorry you sent such an amazing request and then I effectively left you on read for literally months. Seriously anon, this is glorious, I had so much fun writing it. I got like 1.5k words in and realised I had not yet got to anything even close to your request, so there’s quite a bit of background, but I’m still happy with how it turned out (even if it is a lot angstier than you were probably expecting). I really hope you like it, thank you for being so patient!
She Was a Goddamn Dream
Despite the way she acted, there weren’t actually that many things that Carrie Wilson was completely and utterly certain that she was good at. There was her singing and dancing, but every time she watched back recordings of her performances she would pick out a dozen things she could have improved upon; there was her acting, but every time it got to the tenth take of a scene she began to feel like she was messing up time and time again, tripping over her words, delivering her lines flatly with no emotion; there was her frequent attempts to connect with her fanbase, but every now and then a fan would take it too far and she would feel like the one who had ruined it all. People could tell her those things didn’t matter or that they weren’t her fault as many times as they liked, but it never stopped them gnawing away at Carrie’s self-esteem, making her feel like sometimes she didn’t deserve the fame or renown she had built for herself over the years.
But there was one thing she knew for a fact that she was good at: being in love with Flynn Taylor and hiding it.
Carrie had first met Flynn in elementary school. She had been playing with her long-time best friends Alex and Julie when little Flynn, a new student, had walked up to them and asked if she could join in because their game (something about aliens and cowboys if Carrie remembered correctly) looked really fun. Carrie could still recall how Flynn had looked that day, even if it was going on twenty years ago – her hair hung down by her shoulders in cute twists, she had worn a bright pink t-shirt and blindingly yellow dungarees, and she wore sneakers that lit up when she stamped her feet.
Carrie remembered thinking how cool Flynn looked (for a six-year-old) and something inside her had turned defensive. She had advocated for leaving Flynn out of the game, claiming they already had enough players and it would ruin it if they had any more, but Julie had pointed out that if Flynn joined, they would have an equal number of aliens and cowboys so Alex wouldn’t be so outnumbered by the two of them anymore. Carrie had quickly been outvoted, Flynn had been allowed to play with them, she and Julie had clicked in an instant, and Carrie decided that day that she didn’t like Flynn Taylor, not one bit.
For a few years, things had been a little rough. Carrie wasn’t shy about how much she disliked Flynn, but in return Flynn didn’t mind telling anyone who would listen about how much she hated Carrie. The two of them would bicker and squabble and argue over the tiniest of things, and Carrie only realised how bad it was getting when Julie blew up at them.
It was sometime in their freshman year of high school and their feud had been going on for years without showing any signs of letting up. Julie had been going through the worst time of her life; her mother (Rose, who was the closest thing Carrie had to a mother as well, but she knew it wasn’t the same thing) had passed away, she was facing getting kicked out of the music programme for lack of participation, her family was considering moving house, and every day it seemed like more and more things got added to her list of things that were going wrong in her life. Carrie and Flynn had made a silent agreement to put their arguing on hold for Julie’s sake, knowing their friend didn’t need that extra stress in her life right then. And for a while, it had been going well.
Until suddenly it was going badly again.
The three of them were having a movie night at Carrie’s house and everything was great. They were watching their favourite films, eating copious amounts of junk food, talking and laughing and having fun, and Carrie couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Julie smile so much. It had all been going so well.
But then Flynn suggested a movie, but Carrie had wanted to watch something else, and one thing had led to another until they were yelling at each other in the middle of Carrie’s living room, the whole world dropped away around them to the point that all they could focus on was each other. They were so enraptured in their argument that neither of them heard Julie’s phone chime, neither of them watched her open a text from her dad, neither of them saw the tears slide down her cheeks as she read it. Neither of them noticed anything was wrong until Julie tried to suppress a sob but instead just made it come out louder than it would have. Flynn and Carrie had turned to face her, argument forgotten in an instant, and rushed to comfort their friend.
Julie had kind of lost it that night. She had told them everything on her mind from the text she’d just received from her dad telling her they’d officially found a buyer for the house to the fact that she had been exhausted for years from all their arguing. She explained that she thought recently the two of them were finally getting better, finally working on having a civil relationship, and maybe something was finally going right for her because they wouldn’t be at each other’s throats all the time anymore.
“I guess not,” she had said defeatedly, fiercely scrubbing at her face in an attempt to dispel any of her tears, “because you two were just faking it for me. I told you I didn’t want anyone to tiptoe around me like I’ll break if I’m dropped, but you still did. I thought you guys would understand that I just want things to be normal again.”
“We were only trying to make things easy on you,” Carrie explained, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Yeah,” Flynn agreed, “we never meant to upset you, Jules.”
Julie had scoffed. “Yeah, well, you’ve done a great job of that.”
Julie had apologised for it all in the morning, but Carrie didn’t blame her for anything she’d said the night before. She had clearly got a lot off her chest that she really needed to, and everything she had said to Carrie and Flynn had been deserved in a way. Carrie knew that her and Flynn’s intentions had only been good, but Julie had asked for reality, and they hadn’t given her that.
Which had got Carrie thinking – in this situation, what was her reality?
For years and years, she would have said she hated Flynn. She would have believed it, too. She would have said that from the moment they’d met on that playground, Flynn had been her worst nightmare. But when she thought back on everything, how she saw Flynn even when they were fighting, she couldn’t call Flynn a nightmare.
She was a goddamn dream.
Carrie had spent night and day thinking about what Flynn really meant to her, why she made her so angry, whether it was really anger at all, and she had come to a revelation that really wasn’t as surprising to her as it should have been. It turned out that it wasn’t anger at all, it was a severe case of repression and Carrie Wilson was very much a lesbian.
That was another thing she knew she was good at – repressing things.
Though she was kind of underwhelmed by her epiphany (really, she thought, she should have worked it out a lot sooner), it did make things harder. Now she knew that she didn’t want to argue with Flynn, she wanted to kiss her, and that was very inconvenient. They didn’t argue as much anymore anyway, making a genuine effort to like each other rather than pretending for Julie’s sake, but that just meant that Flynn smiled at her more often and laughed at Carrie’s snarky jokes and it was nearly impossible not to fall at her feet in worship every time she so much as breathed.
So Carrie got very good at pretending she wasn’t in love with Flynn. By the time they were halfway through freshman year, they were friends and nobody ever pointed out that Carrie felt much more than friendship. Things in all their lives began to improve – Carrie and Flynn were no longer feuding, Julie ended up not moving house and got back into the music programme when she started a band, and she got herself a boyfriend – Luke – who made her the happiest Carrie had ever seen her.
(It had prompted many a discussion about whether or not Carrie and Flynn had anyone in mind they wanted to date. Carrie had panicked and said Nick, the school’s star lacrosse player who she had spoken to maybe three times and was definitely not her type. Flynn had given a suspicious hum and said she was still figuring out what it was she wanted; Carrie had excused herself and had a ten-minute panic in the bathroom over the implications of that.)
By the time university rolled around, Julie entered the big leagues with Julie and the Phantoms, deciding not to pursue further education but instead focus on her career, while Carrie and Flynn had gone to the same performing arts school. The same performing arts school where they’d been hired by the same agent. The same agent who kept getting them roles on the same shows together. It was a ticking time bomb, Carrie knew, and it went off a few days after her twenty-fourth birthday.
Carrie had been hired to play Flynn’s love interest in the third season of a show that Flynn had been cast in two years previously.
The truth was, it was both a dream come true and a living nightmare all at the same time. For one thing, Carrie adored the show and had been aching for a role on it since it came out. But on the other hand, she would be Flynn’s love interest, and according to the scripts they would have their first on-screen kiss at the end of the season – Carrie always made sure to separate her work from reality, but in her mind, kissing Flynn was kissing Flynn, no matter what disguise it was hidden by, and it was what she would have to do if she wanted the job.
She tried not to panic, she really did, but it wasn’t the easiest thing to not be panicked by, which was where everything started to fall apart.
It was the day of the kiss scene and Carrie was a wreck (which was putting it kindly). She had been pacing back and forth in her trailer in front of Alex for more than half an hour, trying not to mess up her hair every time she ran her hands through it, saying words but not making any sense.
“Carrie,” Alex said, equal parts firm and amused. Carrie stopped her pacing and turned to face him so fast she was surprised she didn’t get whiplash. “Will you please stop moving? You’re making me travel sick.”
“Very funny,” she deadpanned, but nonetheless she crashed down next to him on the little couch, flopping against him and resting her head on his shoulder. He easily threw an arm around her and she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the stress she was under, but the pounding of her heart made it very difficult.
“Talk to me,” Alex said. “What exactly is it that’s getting you so worked up here?”
“I have to kiss Flynn,” Carrie grumbled.
“And that’s a bad thing?” Alex asked.
“No,” Carrie groaned. “Don’t ask stupid questions. It’s a good thing, which is why I’m mad about it. Keep up, Alex.”
She felt him shake with a badly hidden laugh and scowled. “There’s no point asking me to keep up when you’re at least a hundred steps ahead of me. Explain it to me, get it off your chest.”
Carrie groaned dramatically but nonetheless she lifted her head and turned to face Alex, looking him in the eye.
“Fine,” she said heavily. “I’m in love with Flynn.”
Alex nodded. “Yep.”
“We have been acting like we’re in love with each other for the entirety of this season.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s been longer than that–”
Carrie smacked his arm and he grinned devilishly. “Don’t interrupt me. We’ve been acting like we’re in love with each other for the entirety of this season, and now I have to kiss her.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Helpful,” Alex said with an expression that suggested it was anything but helpful.
“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” Carrie asked. She was almost certain that Alex was messing with her now, forcing her to admit what he already knew because he probably thought it would do her some good, and she didn’t know if she was grateful for that or not.
Alex just nodded once.
“Fine,” she conceded. “I don’t want to kiss Flynn because I want to kiss Flynn. If I kiss her on the show, it won’t be real, but I won’t be able to stop thinking about it anyway. I won’t be able to stop myself from wanting to do it again, but not as our characters – as us. I already want to kiss her half the time and I know that’ll only get worse once I’ve done it for real. But I won’t be able to do it again unless it’s scripted because Flynn doesn’t love me back. Do you see my problem now?”
Alex was silent for a beat, his face working through a thousand different emotions in one go. He opened his mouth to reply, closed it again, and whipped out his phone, opening up a message.
“Oh, this is how it is?” Carrie said indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I spill my secrets to you and your response is to text someone instead of reacting at all?”
“I’m texting Willie,” he explained. “I’m asking him something.”
“What?”
That moment, Alex’s phone pinged with a text from Willie. He opened it up, smirked, and showed Carrie the screen.
Alex’s text read: hey, Flynn is in love with Carrie right?
Willie’s reply said: only for like ten years, yeah
Carrie read the messages. Then she read them again. Then she read them a third time, refreshed the chat, and read it again. Then she swiped Alex’s phone from his hand and turned it off, chucking it across the trailer so it landed in a pile of clothes she’d been meaning to get washed.
“Okay,” Alex said. “What was that for?”
“That’s not helpful,” Carrie whined. “How do you expect me to focus now that’s in my head?”
Alex blinked bewilderedly. “Because now you know Flynn loves you back. Which means you two can get together. You’d be able to kiss off-screen, and you were literally saying that’s what you wanted about two minutes ago.”
“But she doesn’t love me back,” Carrie said like Alex was being particularly dense.
“Were we reading the same messages?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.
“Yes,” Carrie stressed, “but you’re wrong. She’s never flirted with me or said anything that might sound even a little bit like she thinks of me that way or anything like that. There’s no way she likes me.”
Alex opened his mouth, presumably to argue with her, but at that moment the door of the trailer opened and someone popped their head in to call Carrie to set. She thanked them and they closed the door as she got up to get ready. Alex heaved an exasperated sigh and said, “It’ll be fine, okay? If it helps in any way, just focus on the fact that it’s not you and Flynn – it’s Monica and Kai. It’s your character, not you. Got it?”
“Yes,” Carrie lied, leaving the trailer. “I’ve got it.”
Walking to set felt like walking to her death. Carrie was certain that nothing good would come out of this scene. The kiss would look realistic, yes, but she couldn’t truthfully claim that was because she was a good actress – it would only look real because it was real for her.
She arrived on set and steeled herself, going over her lines in her head and trying to ground herself. She’d been on this set so many times throughout the season; it was Kai’s apartment (Flynn’s character, a charming DJ with a rebellious streak and secret penchant for art and literature), utterly trashed after it had been broken into the previous episode. According to the script, Monica – Carrie’s character – would be helping Kai clean things up when Kai got upset about the whole situation, and it would fall to Monica to help her calm down and search through all her feelings. It would end with a big revelation as they admitted their love for one another, and their kiss would fade to black, ending the episode and the series.
On paper, it looked good. In Carrie’s mind, it was the worst thing that could have ever happened to her, but all she could do was go with it.
All thoughts of calming herself down bled out of her mind the moment Flynn walked onto set. She was in costume, a bright red tracksuit and minimal makeup, and she was smiling from ear to ear. The look was nothing special, but it was beauty if Carrie had ever seen it. Comparing herself to Flynn, she felt underdressed, even though her costume of a floral summer dress and cream-coloured cardigan was much less casual than Flynn’s.
When Flynn turned and met Carrie’s eye, she smiled that wonderous smile of hers, the one that made Carrie feel like they were the only two people in existence, everything else dropping away from them. She tried to smile back, but it was weak and close to a grimace, so she turned away to save herself the embarrassment.
And five minutes later, they began the scene.
To begin with, it went well. Carrie immersed herself in the role of Monica, playing up her concern for Kai, making sure to watch her with the most obvious heart-eyes she could manage (which wasn’t difficult). When Kai broke down crying, Monica rushed to her side, wrapped her in the tightest embrace possible, and tried not to cry herself. She leaned in close and whispered the words she had so painstakingly memorised into her ear.
“This wasn’t your fault,” she breathed. “You could never have known this would happen.”
“But it did happen,” Kai sobbed, her breath rattling heart-wrenchingly. “They targeted me. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Monica said softly, holding Kai tighter. “I can’t imagine how anyone would ever want to hurt you like this. Or hurt you at all. You don’t… you’ve been through so much, Kai, and you don’t deserve any of it. You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I wish I had those magic words that would somehow fix all this, but I don’t. All I can do is be here for you because that’s what you deserve. You deserve someone who’ll pick you up when you’re down, someone who will go out of their way to make you happy in life, someone who would love you forever and not think about stopping that for a second.”
Kai drew back a little but remained close enough to look Monica in the eye. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying… I… Kai, I…” The words died in Monica’s throat.
“I love you,” Kai finished, the start of an incredulous half-smile on her face.
“Yeah,” Monica whispered. “I love you, Kai.”
“God, I love you too.”
And then when they surged together, meeting in a fierce kiss, it suddenly wasn’t Monica and Kai anymore. This was Carrie and Flynn, kissing each other like they meant it, hard and fast and unrestrained and everything Carrie had ever imagined. More than Carrie had ever imagined. Flynn’s intensity hit her like a truck, but for once she wasn’t one to complain. She gave as good as she got, all that built up longing releasing itself in one fell swoop. Carrie Wilson was kissing Flynn Taylor and it was the most incredible thing she’d ever felt.
The call of, “Cut!” broke them apart. For a moment, Carrie looked into Flynn’s eyes, trying to read what was written in them, but it was useless. Her hands were still on Flynn’s waist, but she let go, and a moment later felt Flynn’s hands untangle from her hair.
They did the scene again and Carrie cursed herself for not foreseeing this massive issue. They never did one-take scenes, everything was gone over time and time again. She wasn’t kissing Flynn just once that day; she was reliving it over and over, and every kiss was better than the last as they got more acquainted with each other, figured things out, became less messy but kept all of the passion. It was a change of pace, but Carrie was handling it.
Until she messed up her lines in the worst possible way.
It was supposed to be, “Yeah. I love you, Kai.”
Carrie said, “I love you, Flynn.”
The director picked up on her mistake immediately and was good-natured about it as he made them take the scene from the top. Flynn said nothing, just laughed it off, mentioned that Carrie must be getting a little tired, all that kissing really taking it out of her. Everyone was fine with it and it didn’t happen again, but Carrie was mortified. She knew that those words had held all the sincerity it was impossible to fake, even with years of acting experience under her belt. She knew she had sounded honest in a way she never could have pretended to be. She knew that it was probably the take they would use, editing her use of Flynn’s name to Kai. And it felt like the biggest mistake of her life.
As soon as she was cleared to leave set, she all but legged it out of the room and back to her trailer where Alex was still waiting for her. She sat down beside him, head on his shoulder, and she cried.
The worst part was that she was no longer certain whether she was any good at pretending not to be in love with Flynn.
*
Promos and trailers for the show gradually released over the next few weeks. Carrie avoided social media as often as she could – it hadn’t taken people long to figure out that she would be Flynn’s love interest, and she simply couldn’t handle their reactions.
Some comments she had seen were harmless, related only to the show. ‘Monikai for life’ seemed to be a common one, as well as ‘she better treat my girl Kai with the respect she deserves’ or some form of ‘I swear they look literally perfect for each other’. Those comments were the kind Carrie could get along with. She liked a few posts, teasing just enough to get speculation up, but not enough to confirm anything.
Then there were different comments. Comments that weren’t about Monica and Kai, but instead about Carrie and Flynn. ‘Oh my god, I have been waiting for these two to play girlfriends forever’ seemed to crop up a lot. If it wasn’t that it was ‘we are finally going to see Carrie and Flynn kiss!’ and sometimes it was the worst comments like ‘they should date in real life’.
Everything about it made Carrie feel bad. For one thing, she hated people saying things like that about her private life – she might have been famous, but she was still a human being, and these people didn’t know her, so nothing gave them the right to talk about her and Flynn like that. But also, it was a constant painful reminder of what she didn’t have, and that was too much for her to process.
She had hardly spoken to Flynn since the wrap party despite Flynn messaging her every day. She was ashamed of her slip up and terrified that if she spoke to Flynn the same thing would happen again. Now that those words were out there, she didn’t think she’d be able to rein them back in ever again.
So Carrie was scared. Scared that she had ruined everything with Flynn, scared people would figure out how she really felt, scared that this was something she couldn’t bounce back from.
And she lashed out.
Admittedly, she knew could have handled the situation better. She could have ignored all the rumours and comments, stuck to one side of the fanbase, been proud of what she and Flynn had created. But she didn’t do any of that. There was one thing she knew she was still good at, and that was acting as if she hated Flynn Taylor. It had seemed like a good idea at the time – reveal to everyone that she hated Flynn to get them off her back. If she had thought it through for more than a second, she wouldn’t have done it, but one night something inside her broke and she let it all out.
She had reverted back to old habits and written a load of unsavoury tweets about Flynn, saying she hated her and couldn’t imagine anything worse than dating her, telling everyone that the idea of them being in a relationship was really creeping her out and she wanted nothing to do with it. She had posted them all before she could think any more about it, but the regret had been instant, as had the furious messages from her PR team and agent, the thousands of unfollows, the way people immediately tried to cancel her, and the way all of Flynn’s attempts to contact her stopped after those hateful words had been said. She deleted the tweets, but they’d already been screenshotted many a time, so it didn’t do much good.
The only surprise that came from it was a follow-up tweet from Flynn reading: You guys don’t need to cancel Carrie. It’s not as if I’m upset. I’d only be upset if I liked her, which I never have done.
Somehow, she had managed to ruin everything, just with a slip of the tongue.
The night of the season premier, Carrie got a knock on her door. That in itself was weird – she hadn’t invited anyone over, planning on spending the night alone, not even necessarily watching the show she’d worked so hard on, and none of her friends were really the type to just show up unannounced.
Well, none of them except–
“Willie,” she greeted with a smile when she opened the door. He stood on the threshold with his skateboard tucked under his arm, helmet lopsided on his head, and a smile on his face that looked half genuine and half like he was up to something. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d come and watch the premier with you,” he said, inviting himself in and removing his helmet, hanging it on a coat hook as he propped his skateboard up against the wall. “Wouldn’t want you to be lonely for something as huge as this, right?”
“Okay,” she said, unconvinced, “and what’s your ulterior motive?”
Willie knew better than to argue. He frowned slightly and said, “Flynn told me what you said and that you’re not talking to her now, Alex told me that you totally freaked out – like freaked out, freaked out – and then went all despondent and sad, and I wanted to see if I could help. Maybe, you know, talk some sense into you.”
She rolled her eyes, leading Willie into the living room and sitting on the couch with him. “I’m not ignoring Flynn, I didn’t freak out, and I’ve got plenty of sense in me, thank you very much.”
Willie raised an eyebrow. “Sense? Or denial?”
She didn’t reply.
“Carrie,” he said, shuffling closer, “listen to me, okay? That day, when you said to Flynn that you love her, you ran to Alex while she ran to me. She was a total mess, telling me she had no idea if you had meant it or if you’d really just messed up. She said she wanted to talk to you, and after that day she said she kept trying but you wouldn’t pick up and she thought she had done something wrong. And then all those tweets… Carrie, what’s going on?”
She sighed, threw her head back to try and tip the tears welling in her eyes back into her skull, and then turned back to Willie.
“I meant it,” she breathed. “When I told Flynn I love her, I meant it. But she doesn’t feel the same way about me.”
“Yes she–”
“No,” Carrie said firmly. “She doesn’t. I shouldn’t have said it, I shouldn’t have lost myself like that. I should have had some freaking restraint. And now that I’ve told her, she’s going to hate me because I will have made her uncomfortable and she won’t want to be around me anymore. I’ve ruined it, Willie. And the tweets were a stupid idea, even I know that. I was scared, which is a terrible excuse, I know. I thought people were figuring out how I really felt so I… god, I’m such an idiot. I never should have done it. And now I know she hates me, she said so herself.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Willie said softly, shaking his head.
Carrie just raised an eyebrow.
“Look, I’m… I’m not going to make you talk about it tonight if you really don’t want to,” Willie said. Carrie breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing a little. “But you’ve got to promise me you’ll talk to Flynn. Just to explain yourself. No matter which way your conversation goes, I really don’t think you’ll regret it.”
Carrie just hummed, not willing to provide an actual answer, and flicked the TV on, putting on the season premier of their show. She and Willie settled down together and watched. If Carrie teared up a little watching her first interaction with Flynn, Willie was kind enough not to mention it.
*
Eventually, Carrie took Willie’s advice, more because she missed Flynn than anything else. And in any case, she felt she owed Flynn an apology and an explanation. She had been awful to her in a way she hadn’t since they were teenagers, and she was ashamed and guilty and just wanted things to go back to some semblance of normal. On the night the season finale aired, Carrie drove to Flynn’s house and knocked on the door before she could change her mind.
“Oh,” Flynn said when she opened the door. Carrie couldn’t read her expression but fought down the panic that arose. “What are you doing here?”
“Can we talk?” she asked, hating how cliché it sounded, but that didn’t matter when Flynn nodded and opened the door wider, letting her in.
They settled together on the couch in front of Flynn’s television. It was set to the channel their show aired on, but it hadn’t started yet. When Flynn didn’t say a word, Carrie took that as her cue to start the conversation.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Go on,” Flynn encouraged, sounding unimpressed.
“I’m sorry for everything I said about you online,” she continued, doing her best to look Flynn in the eye when all she wanted to do was look away. “I didn’t mean any of it. You’re such an amazing person and one of my best friends and I can’t believe I let myself do things that would jeopardise that. None of it was true, anyway. I just… I got scared.”
“Scared of what?” Flynn pressed, voice slightly softer than it had been a moment before. Carrie hoped she hadn’t imagined Flynn scooting ever so slightly closer to her on the couch.
She took a deep rattling breath. She had come there that night having promised herself that she would be completely honest with Flynn because she owed her that much. Well, now was the point when she needed to be honest and it was the most terrifying prospect she’d ever faced.
“Scared of people working out how right they are about me,” she admitted. “I saw people saying that we… that we would be good together as a couple in real life. And it hit too close to home because I’ve always thought that exact same thing, but I’ve never been able to do anything about it.”
“What are you saying?” Flynn breathed.
“I’m saying… I meant what I said on set. It wasn’t me slipping up, it was genuine. I couldn’t hold it back that day.”
“You mean when you said ‘I love you’?” Flynn asked slowly.
“Yeah,” Carrie said. “I meant it when I said that I love you. I love you, Flynn, I really do.”
Flynn was silent for far too long. Carrie felt her heart sinking, knowing she had made a mess of this, that they would never be able to return from this, that Flynn probably wanted nothing to do with her now, despite what Alex and Willie seemed to think about the whole thing. She prepared herself for the shouting, the accusations, the breaking off of their friendship.
But then Flynn said, “You shouldn’t have run out of set that day.”
“I know, I know, I should have explained myself and apologised there and th–”
“No,” Flynn interrupted. “You should have stayed so that I had the chance to say it back.”
“So you… what?”
Flynn’s hands, soft and gentle, came up to cradle Carrie’s face. She felt Flynn run the pad of her thumbs deftly over Carrie’s cheeks, looked deep into her gorgeous brown eyes and lost herself in them. When Flynn said, “I want to say it back,” Carrie was so up in her own thoughts that she almost forgot what they were even talking about.
“Then say it,” she returned, leaning into Flynn’s touch.
“I love you, Carrie.”
“God, I love you too.”
They kissed again, leaning forward to meet each other, and it was like their first kiss all over again. This one wasn’t tinged with the bittersweet sting that their on-screen ones had been, but rather peppered with the joy they shared having finally revealed their truth to one another. It was a ‘thank you’, a ‘sorry’, an ‘I love you’, a ‘you are it for me’ all in one go, made of love and care and everything good in the world. Carrie lost herself in Flynn – she thought that would never stop happening – and it made her feel free.
Here was another thing she was good at: loving Flynn and showing it to her.
At some point, long after they had broken their kiss, instead curling up together on the couch to watch their show, Flynn snickered and said, “You know, our agent told me that our little spat online had done wonders for the show’s publicity.”
“Where are you going with this?” Carrie asked, smirking, knowing that Flynn wasn’t just dropping that out of nowhere.
She shrugged. “I think we could do our bit to help out with ratings. For a while it might be a good idea to keep the act up, you know? Act like we hate each other and watch everyone freak out over it. And if it’s super funny for us then that’s just a bonus.”
“Fine, on one condition,” Carrie said. Flynn nodded. “We don’t tell Alex and Willie what we’re doing. They’ve been laughing at our stupidity for years, I think we deserve a little revenge.”
“I love the way you think,” Flynn laughed, leaning up to kiss Carrie again. “I love you. But as far as anyone else is concerned, no I don’t.”
Pressing another kiss to the side of Flynn’s head, Carrie said teasingly, “I don’t either.”
(Alex and Willie were not best pleased when they found out three months later that Carrie and Flynn were not in fact mortal enemies but girlfriends when the girls asked them for help moving all of Flynn’s stuff into Carrie’s house because they’d decided they wanted to live together. They’d been given the silent treatment the entire time, but it was worth it.)
*
Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @boggie-brainrot @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @ghostlydahlia @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright @sylphrenas @callmeontheleyline
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axoxtxhxh · 4 years ago
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First Date with the Vets - Hange
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Big shoutout to @chaotic-nick​ for making this lovely banner for me!
Overall Summary: I had this idea to do a first date with the vets and what it would be like. I am including Erwin, Levi, Miche, and Hange in this list. Each date will be different, but all of them will be set in modern au.
Check out Miche’s story here, Erwin’s story here, Levi’s story here
Pairing: Hange x Masc!Reader
Content: All fluff
Word Count: ~ 5,300
Summary: Reader is getting ready to close up his shop for the night and start his Friday night when just before it’s time to close, a familiar face walks in the shop. Will this change his plans for the night?
A/N: Here I am again, writing for a masculine reader. I hope I did okay :) I am also still trying to get better at writing Hange and because of that, I may make mistakes with they/them pronouns and other non-gender specific things. Please let me know how I can fix it if I’ve made a mistake. Thank you!
Also, I wasn’t planning to post this today, but you know what? I don’t care. Happy Pride Month! 🏳️‍🌈
The clock on the wall continued to tick as slowly as it had been the last hour, each time you checked it, you swore it slowed down even more. You nibbled on your thumb nail again, tapping your fingers on the counter as you looked out the front window. It was one of those nights that felt cold, rainy and wet. The ground was wet, but it wasn’t actually raining. There were no umbrellas necessary, but you could still feel that rainy day mood.
The weather meant most people were either inside or at a café, trying to pull as much of the cozy feeling that they could. Not the best night to be at a bookstore. Especially an old bookstore without a café. You definitely mentioned this to your boss, but no such luck. It would have been a nice addition.
Normally Friday nights were quite busy and normally you loved being there. This Friday was a bit different. For once you had plans to go out and these were plans you were actually looking forward to.
Your friend had called you up last week saying she had tickets to an art show just down the street from where you work. It’s not that you were a huge fan of art, but you really liked the idea of being able to be out without having to get looks from people because you were alone.
It was the whole reason you loved living in the city. There were so many things you were able to do by yourself, but still have people around you. The was basically a dream for you being an introvert. Plus, it’s not that there was an issue finding someone to hang out with, you just preferred doing things alone. At least, you had yet to find someone you were interested in spending time with.
You checked the clock again. Twenty minutes left. You sighed and brought your thumbnail to your mouth again. It looked like the rain was actually picking up. More umbrellas were popping open and you watched the droplets of water roll down the front window. The rain wasn’t going to slow you down though. If anything, it meant there might be less people interested in an art showing and you could have the place to yourself.
You continued watching the rain droplets rolling down the window, periodically checking the time, until you recognized a familiar Starry Night umbrella. The walk of the person holding the umbrella was even more familiar.
It was maybe four months ago that Hange Zoe first walked into the bookstore. You were working that day, standing in the exact same spot. They had never come in the bookstore before, you were very sure of that because had they come in, you would have remembered them. Still, the second they stepped foot inside, it was as if they knew the place, as if it were their bookstore and not your boss’s.
At the time, you didn’t realize that anytime Hange came in, they would be searching for the most random and hard-to-find book in existence, but after about a month of that happening, you quickly realized that when they walked in, you would be having to place an order for them. You were pretty sure that’s what brought them into your bookstore in the first place since you ran a specialty bookstore. Still, Hange found a way to get you searching for books you had never even heard of.
The first book they wanted was a very old and very specific ethics textbook. You had no idea what they needed that for, but you knew you didn’t carry it in the store. They waited by the spinning display of sunglasses while you filled out the form. Yes, your boss decided to sell cheap sunglasses in the front as well as those keychain nametags, but couldn’t find a reason to open a café.
Your eyes kept taking glances at Hange while they tried on the most ridiculous glasses meant for the children that came in. You laughed to yourself as you finished filling out the form and called your boss over to sign the order form.
“What is it?” He asked, carrying a stack of books that you knew he was going to have you stocking later on.
“She’s looking for this book.” You pointed to the order form.
“It’s actually ‘they’.” Hange spoke so nonchalantly that you weren’t actually sure if they were speaking to you or to themselves in the star sunglasses they’d put on.
“Pardon?”
“I use they/them pronouns.” Hange gave a wide grin, peaking around the spinning display.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You had hoped your face wasn’t showing how uncomfortable you were feeling. You hated making mistakes like that. You hoped that they weren’t annoyed with you for that mistake. Based on the smile they had on their face, they weren’t bothered at all.
“No problem.” Hange was still smiling and there was something so contagious about the way they smiled. Something about the open-mouthed grin that made it seem like they were constantly half a step away from giggling that always got you to smile back.
“They are looking for this book.” You looked back down at the order form, still smiling. “I need your signature to order it.”
Your boss took the form and signed it, handing it back to you and you couldn’t help but stand there watching Hange trying on another ridiculous pair of sunglasses. This time, it was a Halloween themed pair with one square lens and one circle. It really was the stupidest addition to the bookstore, but that day was the first time you were happy that it was there. You laughed to yourself as you watched them try to realign the glasses in a spot they didn’t fit in.
“Mx. Zoe.” Hange looked up and skipped over to you.
“I will place the order today and for most books, they come in after a couple days, but since yours is quite specific, it may take a week or two.” You explained everything to them and gave them their receipt. “Please make sure you bring your receipt in when you come to pick it up.”
You watched their attention move from you to the receipt to the card on the table. They slowly reached up and picked up the card, reading the text and flipping it over.
“You guys repair old books?” Their eyes moved up to you and you nodded.
“It’s another one of our specialties.”
“I have a couple old books I’ve been scared to read because of how fragile they were when I bought them.” They put the card in their bag.
“There are some limits to what we’re able to fix, but if you bring them in, I can take a look.” You smiled widely, hoping to see them smile once more before they left.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” They flashed a wide smile and that time you actually did laugh. A laugh which you covered up with a cough and scratched your head, pretending to tend to something on your computer. You watched Hange walk out and realized you had something to look forward to.
The next day Hange came in with a crate of books. You smiled at the cuteness of the little huff they gave after setting the books on the counter in front of you. Your smile quickly dropped as you saw the books they had.
“Where did you get these?” Your eyes were wide. Most were books that you would never be able to get your hands on, order form or not.
“Lots of different places,” they explained as you reached your hands in to pull out the first book.
“Do you collect these?” You couldn’t take your eyes away from the books. They were in pretty bad shape, but the fact that they owned these was amazing.
“Some of them are books I’ve been wanting to read. Others I’ve read online and really wanted to own the original.” You could feel the smile on their face, but found it so hard to look away from the original binding.
“These are amazing.” You smiled, finally looking at them. They were just as excited as you and their smile widened even further.
“This one’s my favorite.” Hange reached in the crate and pulled out a severely crumbling textbook. “Vicki is in back shape.”
“You named your book Vicki?”
“It’s a Victorian era medical textbook detailing surgery of the time. What would you name it?” Hange explained.
“I wasn’t questioning the name choice, but the fact that you—never mind.” You chuckled to yourself. “Vicki is a great name.”
“Thanks, Fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy?” “Your beard. It looks like it’s coming in nicely.”
“Thanks.” You rubbed your two-day old stubble, a little embarrassed that someone noticed you forgot to shave and a lot embarrassed that Hange seemed to like it. Maybe embarrassed was the wrong word. Hange never lingered though and just after complimenting you, they moved on to the next thing that caught their attention. In this case it was the receipt you handed them and they started signing.
“I imagine this will take some time to get through.”
“For this amount, it will probably take at least two weeks,” you started, “We are closed on Mondays which is when we get the book repairs done.”
“Like a vets office.” Hange smiled and gave you the signed receipt. “Spaying and neutering on Wednesdays.”
“Like a vets office.” You nodded, laughing to yourself at the connections they always made.
“I’ll see you around, Fuzzy.” They waved good-bye and walked out.
From that day, you always looked forward to any exchange you were able to have with Hange. It was always a good day when they came into the shop and each time they came in, they would stay longer and longer chatting with you about new books that came into the store or new books that they acquired. You often wondered what their apartment looked like considering how many books they talked about.
Seeing their smile as they walked into the bookstore on that rainy Friday night made you really happy that there was still twenty minutes before closing. Hange stepped inside and shook the extra water off their umbrella before bringing it inside. They threw the hood of their raincoat back and smiled.
“Heya, Fuzzy.”
“Hey, Hange. You here to check the status of that book you ordered?” You leaned over the counter and smiled at them.
“That, I am.” They took off their raincoat and you watched them fail at hanging it up a couple times before finally getting it to stay on the coat rack. “Please tell me you have some good news for me.”
“I do have some good news.” You watched their face light up in a huge smile. “It’s not about your book though. Apparently, it’s not supposed to rain all weekend.”
“I see what you did there.” They pointed their first finger at you and narrowed their eyes, quickly breaking it with a laugh. “Good thing I don’t get disappointed easily.”
“One of my favorite things about you.” Hange’s excitement for books always seemed to remind you of your own.
“Got anything good coming in?” They hopped up to sit on the counter next to where you were leaning, something the boss hated them doing. Hange always did it anyway and you found it incredibly endearing.
“Not this week.” You stood up straight, turning yourself to lean against the counter. “Most if it is stuff you already have.”
“Aw shucks.” They took the inventory chart from you to take a look. Another thing the boss didn’t like, but you found adorable. You watched the way their glasses slipped down their nose as they scanned over the list. “Not bad. You guys are actually starting to become a specialty store.”
You laughed loudly at their comment. Since the beginning, Hange was always criticizing the lack of textbooks that were offered in the store. Your boss liked to focus on rare fiction, but Hange loved non-fiction more than anything. Textbooks on ethics, medicine, dinosaurs, you name it. It was always the first complaint out of their mouth when they checked the inventory.
“I don’t think anyone’s collection will come close to yours.” You watched as Hange smiled shyly. It didn’t take you long to realize that no matter how much you tried to compliment how they looked, they never noticed it as a compliment. That is until one day you commended their commitment to building a library in their spare bedroom and the blush that reached their cheeks that day was on your mind for weeks. You always tried to find ways to flatter them through their achievements after that.
“Such is the life of a crazy professor.” They lifted their hands, palms up, in an expressive display and you laughed. “Any plans tonight?”
“I have this art show I got invited to.” You shrugged it off, not sure if Hange liked art so you didn’t want to seem too interested. “I uh… I’ve never really been into art, but this one seemed good.”
“That sounds like fun.” You watched them kick their feet lightly forward and there was a small voice in your head that told you to invite them to the show. You didn’t want them to feel obligated, but this was a chance to bring your work friendship to possibly something more. For all Hange knew, you lived in this bookstore.
You both heard a noise outside and watched as a little kid tripped on the sidewalk. His mom picked him up and kept walking.
“I hope he’s okay,” Hange whispered. You were pretty sure your window to ask them to the art show closed. It would be weird if you asked them about it now. You sighed.
“What about your plans?”
“Just going home. Maybe watch a documentary.” They’re just going home. Dang it. It would have been perfect for you to ask them. You tried not to beat yourself up over it and instead enjoy the short time you got with them before you would have to leave.
You were both laughing and joking as you normally did when they walked into the shop that you completely forgot to keep track of the time. You caught a glimpse of their watch and saw that the bookstore should have closed thirty minutes ago.
“Oh!” You jumped up. “I have to close up.”
“Oh man, sorry.” Hange jumped off the counter. “Here I am, just talking away.”
You moved to the back counter and flicked off all the lights and shut down the computer systems. Hange moved up front and you met them by the door as they put their raincoat back on and opened their umbrella. You locked up and turned to them.
“Well, enjoy your art showing, Fuzzy.”
“Thanks.” You smiled, not feeling as excited to go now that you didn’t ask Hange to join. “Enjoy your documentary.”
They nodded and turned around and you watched them walk through the crowd of people. You were going to turn around and start walking to the showing, but you couldn’t get yourself to move. You should have asked them. What a wasted opportunity. You sighed again before your feet started moving forward, not in the direction of the showing, but in the direction of Hange. When you realized what you were doing, you started running.
“Hange!” You called after them and ran even faster to catch up. They turned around at their name and looked at you, confusion crossing their face. “Do you… maybe want to come with me? I’m pretty sure I can bring a guest.”
The realization that you just asked them to hang out with you outside of your bookstore hit you quickly and your cheeks started heating up, your hand instinctively moving to the back of your head and you laughed at yourself. A smile also grew on Hange’s lips.
“I think I’d like to.” They nodded, putting their arm out for you. You closed your umbrella and took their arm with one hand and held their umbrella with the other. You reached for your phone to message Fenmore quickly.
[Fen, is there any way you can add a plus one for me at the art show? I’m bringing someone :) ]
[You have a date!!!]
[It’s not really a date.]
[At least I don’t think it is.]
[I don’t know 😩]
[It seems like a date! You both are in]
[Good luck!]
You stuffed your phone back in your pocket and turned to Hange and started walking to the art gallery. It wasn’t far, just a couple blocks away from the bookstore, but you couldn’t stop thinking that this was possibly a date and it made you so nervous which made the couple blocks feel like miles. When you did finally get to the door, you breathed a sigh of relief and walked inside.
“I think there’s a couple artists at this showing,” you said, reaching for a pamphlet. “I don’t really know much about many of them.”
“Me neither.” They smiled at you. “I may love studying, but art wasn’t really on the top of my list.”
You started with the first art piece in the pamphlet, standing in front of it and waiting. You tried to look around and see what everyone else was doing. This plan of getting to spend more time with Hange was becoming a fail because you had no idea about art. You didn’t want to say anything weird if they were liking it, but you really didn’t think you could just silently look at all these pieces. Honestly, some of them were weird.
“This one’s nice.” You turned to them and smiled.
“Yes, very nice.” They smiled.
“What’s it called?” You leaned forward to look at the information card. “Abandoning All Hope… ah.”
“Lovely.” Hange nodded and you swallowed hard. This was bad. This was really bad. You both moved to the next one, the artwork looking a little happier.
“This one looks bright.” You turned back to Hange and they read the title card.
“It’s called Basking in Sadness.”
“Jesus.” You rubbed your temples and closed your eyes.
“According to the description,” They started, “the artist was sick as a child and often had to stay inside. So when he would see sunny days and be stuck inside, he felt sad.”
“I suppose that makes it a bit better.” You scratched your head. “Still sad.”
You both continued and hoped that the art would get better at making conversation naturally flow between you both. It was weird how well you conversed in the bookstore, but now you were really struggling with what to say. You walked up and the next piece looked like a murder scene.
“Gosh, I really have no idea what any of this means.” You finally admitted. “Sorry, I’m really not as big into this kind of art.”
“Oh good!” Hange laughed. “I’ve had no idea of anything since we walked in.”
You look quickly to them and smiled.
“I thought the bench out front was part of the exhibit until I saw someone sit on it.” You both laughed and a man walked up to you with a tray and glasses of champagne. You turned to Hange and they nodded, grabbing a glass.
“Well, to having no idea what we’re doing here.” You held up your glass and Hange clinked it and you both drank quickly.
After the first glass of champagne hit, you started feeling a lot more comfortable. The artwork still made no sense to either of you, but you were having fun. When the man came back around a short while later, you grabbed another glass and another glass and another glass. Before you knew it, you and Hange were five glasses in and finally the art was starting to make sense to you.
“Wait, wait, this one. Do this one.” Hange stood next to the artwork giggling and you rubbed your chin.
“Hmm, it’s definitely about a mother.” You had no right to be as confident as you were when Hange looked at the title card, turning back to you with a surprised look on their face.
“A Mother’s Touch. How did you do that?” They couldn’t believe it. You grabbed Hange’s arm and pulled them next to you, pointing at the picture.
“You see all those swirls look like arms. Like a hug.”
“I do not see that at all.” They laughed. “Do the next one!”
You stood in front of the painting and thought about it, but your eyes kept drifting over to Hange. They weren’t looking at you which only made it harder to focus on the painting. If they could see you, then you’d have a reason to look away, but their eyes were glued to the artwork and yours were glued to them.
“There’s no way you’re going to get this one.” They leaned back up from looking at the title card and faced you and you quickly looked back at the painting. “No way at all.”
“Something with a snake.”
“How!?” They put their palm on their forehead and smiled. “Snake’s Path. How did you know?”
“Come on.” You laughed. “Let’s go to the next one.
“Wait, I’m getting more champagne.” They started moving towards the bar. “The one they’re passing out now is cheap. I want the good stuff.”
“Make sure you bring me a glass.”
“I’m bringing the whole bottle, Fuzzy.” You laughed and went to look at the next artwork while you waited. It was a short wait and you felt a tap on your shoulder.
“Excuse me, sir?” You turned to see a man standing behind you.
“Yes?”
“Is that your date?” The man pointed to Hange and you looked over his shoulder to see them at the bar. You started thinking about them being your date and it made you smile this time, your nerves from earlier completely calmed with alcohol. Hange was still at the bar and you watched them debating with the bartender. It really reminded you of how great they are. Hange never got scared of confrontation like you did.
“Yep.” You smiled proudly. “That’s them.”
“I’d like to let you know that she is causing quite the—”
“They. Their pronoun is they.” You corrected.
“Well they are trying to steal alcohol from the bar. We’re going to have to ask you both to leave.”
It took everything you had no to burst out laughing on the spot, but you managed to hold it in enough to make it to Hange and you both walked outside. Once outside, you both started laughing hysterically, holding your belly as you tried to catch your breath. It was nice outside now. The rain had stopped and it left the air fresh and cool which felt great against your heated cheeks. You both stopped laughing and looked at each other.
“It’s a nice night.” Hange smiled.
“Yeah. Thanks for coming with me.” You smiled back, taking a deep breath.
“Anytime, Fuzzy.”
You didn’t want to say good night. You weren’t ready to leave yet. There really wasn’t anything else to do though. It was probably nearing eleven at that point and you weren’t sure if Hange had things to do in the morning. But you still didn’t want to say good night just yet.
“Do you want to go to the bookstore?” You asked without thinking. “We got a new shipment you might like.”
Hange smiled, a strange look in their eyes as they looked at you.
“You liar.”
“What?”
“I saw the shipment earlier,” they explained, “You showed it to me and told me I wouldn’t like any of it.”
“Oh, right.” You looked down, laughing at your ridiculous attempt to spend more time with them.
“But I would still like to go to the bookstore with you.” You looked at them quickly.
“You would?” You couldn’t hold back your surprised face at that.
“Lead the way, Fuzzy!” Hange linked arms with you and you both walked back the couple blocks to the bookstore. This time, the walk was a lot faster.
You unlocked the door and were about to step inside when you realized that Hange wasn’t with you anymore. It made no sense considering they linked their arm with yours. You leaned around the corner, looking for them, but they weren’t there. It was possible that they changed their mind, but they didn’t know how to tell you and just went home. That didn’t really seem like them though.
“Fuzzy!” You turned around and saw Hange running over to you with a bottle of convenience store wine and you both laughed.
“After you.” You gestured them inside and started looking for some cups. You only had a couple small dixie cups, but they worked well enough. Hange poured a glass for each of you and you tapped your cups together, spilling wine on the floor.
“So how many years before I get to walk into your bookstore?” They asked. At first you misunderstood, thinking they were talking about the bookstore you both were in.
“Ah.” You smiled. “I think it’s a while before that.”
Your dream of owning your own bookstore came up in conversation with Hange more often than you ever thought it would ever. They genuinely seemed interested in it and seemed to be your biggest cheerleader when it came to opening it. Normally when people would ask you about it, you felt rushed and like you were behind. Almost as if they were saying ‘you still haven’t opened it yet?’ but not with Hange. Never with Hange. They made it seem like you were right on track and your dream would be here sooner than you thought.
You looked over at them and smiled. It was amazing how pretty they were. You definitely noticed it the first time they walked into the bookstore last summer, but you wondered if you were the only one to see it. There’s no way. There was no way that someone as intelligent and funny and kind and so beautiful didn’t constantly get asked out. You must just be lucky enough to catch them on a free day.
“You know what Fuzzy?” You looked over at them as they spoke, their eyes still looking down at the empty cup of wine. “I’m glad you asked me to the art showing.”
They giggled a little to themselves, possibly remembering what a hot mess it was inside the gallery. Or perhaps building the courage to say what looked to be sitting on the edge of their mind.
“I don’t get asked to do much these days. Not since moving to the city.” Hange hiccupped and you tried to understand how that was possible. “But I’m having a lot of fun. Thank you.”
You weren’t really sure what to do. You really couldn’t believe it. You managed to smile when they looked up at you.
“It’s my pleasure.” You stared at them, maybe a bit too long, but you couldn’t look away. Hange’s eyes were lidded, tired from all the alcohol you both had. But seeing their drunken smile and hearing their small hiccups had your heart beating quickly. They reached forward and put their hand on yours and you looked down at it. “Oh! I wanted to show you something.”
You jumped up from the ground and helped pull Hange up with you. You walked towards the backroom and halfway there realized you were holding Hange’s hand as you pulled them behind you. It was so soft and so warm and you were thankful for the alcohol letting you do things that you normally would second guess at every moment.
“It’s up there.” You dropped their hand and did your best to reach the top shelf, barely touching the bottom of the books you wanted. “Maybe if you try.”
“We’re the same size.” They laughed.
“Oh right.” You were both laughing and they handed you a shoe and you grabbed it, trying to shimmy the books down. “Wait, whose shoe is this?”
When you turned to look at them they were smiling and you looked down at their feet and couldn’t hold back your laughter at their feet missing a shoe.
“Here, climb on my shoulders.”
“Great idea.” They hopped up and reached for the books. This time they were able to grab them and slowly pull them from the shelf.
Your balance was surprisingly good considering how intoxicated you were. You were looking up and focusing on making sure Hange got the right books. As soon as you saw them grab it, they handed them down to you, one-by-one, and you set them on the table next to you.
“Last one!” Hange placed the book in your hands and you set it down. They threw their hands up out of excitement and you finally lost your balance as they moved back and forth. “Oh!”
Hange started to fall backwards and you quickly bent forward, giving them a way to hop down as you grabbed them before they fell. You managed to catch your balance and Hange fell into your arms and you both fell backwards onto the floor, Hange on top of you.
Their face was so close to yours and you reached up to fix their glasses, smiling at them. You couldn’t help but notice how warm they were, how soft their body felt up against yours, how much prettier they were up close and how badly you wanted to kiss them.
“Hange.” You took a breath, not sure if you were going to be able to do it. “I’m going to kis—”
Before you could finish your sentence, Hange bent down quickly, pushing their lips against yours. At first your eyes widened from the sudden movement, but then when you realized what was happening, you slowly closed them, your arms moving around their back and up to their face.
You rotated your head a bit, trying to get a better angle so your noses weren’t smashed against each other and your tongue slipped out to brush against their lips. Hange opened their mouth and brought their hands to your hair, their long fingers delicately moving along your scalp and you sighed into their mouth. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and you couldn’t believe how good it felt.
Hange slipped their tongue into your mouth and you moved your hand to their hair. You had always noticed how silky and shiny their hair was, but feeling it in your hands was a whole different story. You rolled yourself over so you laid on top of them and Hange let out a gasp, pulling back so they could laugh at the sudden movement.
They really were so completely dazzling and you watched them, smiling yourself, until they stopped laughing and looked at you.
“You’re beautiful.” You brushed a hair out of their eye and smiled. “I suppose a stepladder would have been safer.”
“It wouldn’t have been as fun.” They wrapped their arms around you and pressed their lips against yours.
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13uswntimagines · 5 years ago
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Your sister is who? (USWNT X Swift!Reader)
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Hey Dudes, this is my first USWNT imagine. I’m considering writing more one shots from this universe but I haven’t decided yet. I’m totally open to requests and suggestions of things that you guys would like to see! All mistakes are 100% my own, and I hope you enjoy! Also reader is the baby of the team.
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
You loved your family more than anything in the world, but that didn’t mean that you always loved your last name. You had never been the most outgoing person in your 17 years on earth, but you had honestly never needed to be. The only part of you that most people were interested in was your last name, so you had learned to fade into the background and let your older sister work her social butterfly magic. Unless you were on the Soccer Pitch. That was your happy place. Who you were didn’t matter. You were only judged on your ability to get around the defenders and bury the ball into the net, which was something that you excelled at if you did say so yourself. The pitch was the only place in the world where you were more than simply Taylor Swift’s little sister, and you wanted to keep it that way.
Maybe that was why you had introduced yourself to the USWNT as simply Y/n, conveniently forgetting to add the Swift to the end. Maybe that was why you hadn’t told them who the Tay that you were texting all the time was. Maybe that was why you were so closed off anytime they had asked about your family in the past 2 months you had been on the team. Maybe that was why you were dreading the team bonding activity for the night so much. You didn’t like truth or dare to begin with, and the fact that your teammates were determined to get you to open up to them did nothing to ease the anxiety you were feeling as you sat between your self-declared team moms Alex and Kelley.
“I think I win that one” Lindsey smiled as she took a bow after finishing Sonnett’s dare. “But who should go next?” She hummed, sitting down and tapping her fingers to her chin.
“Well, the rookie hasn’t gone yet?” Megan Hummed back, smirking in your direction, laughing as you leaned a little closer to Alex, who wrapped her arm a little tighter around you.
“Ah yes, the rookie,” Lindsey smirked back. “Truth or dare rookie?” She asked, and you shrunk back a little further as you felt the eyes of the rest of the team land on you.
“Um, dare I guess?” You asked back unsure. So far, the truths had been really personal and uncomfortable questions that you had no desire to answer. At least with a dare, they couldn’t get you to reveal too much personal information.
“Brave choice kid” Ashlyn smirked, as Lindsey leaned in to listen to whatever Sonnett was whispering in her ear. The evil smile that crossed Lindsey’s face meant that whatever Emily had suggested was probably something that you really wouldn’t enjoy.
“Ok little striker, I dare you to give me free rein over your phone for 3 minutes,” Lindsey said with a chuckle. Alex immediately noticed how you tensed in her arms, your eyes growing comically wide with the implications of handing over your personal device.
“Um, that seems a little invasive don’t ya think?” You asked back quietly, praying to god that you would be able to get out of this.
“What if we set some ground rules, so nothing too bad happens?” Alex glared at where Emily and Lindsey were grinning triumphantly, rubbing your back. Those two hadn’t understood why you were so guarded, but then again neither of them was as shy as you were. They had been determined to get to know you, no matter how evasive you were. You huffed but nodded into her shoulder.
“You can go on messenger and photos, but not my social media.” You said back firmly, attempting to compromise with the women who were grinning like Cheshire cats. You were just glad that you had decided to use nicknames for all your contacts, at least they wouldn’t know who they were talking too. And your photos pretty much consisted of landscapes you had seen during each stop of your sister’s tours. You had never liked people, but you loved nature so that was what you filled your phone up with.
“Include the facetime app, we get five minutes and you have a deal.” Lindsey smiled, sticking her hand out for the phone. You huffed again, causing several of the girls to coo at how cute you looked, and handed over the desired device. Kelley laughed and pulled her own phone out to act as the timer.
You watched with worried eyes as most of the team got up to crowd around your device and Lindsey began to thumb through your phone. You glanced at the clock, praying that the time would tick by faster and that they wouldn’t find something that you didn’t want them to.
“You’re no fun kid,” Megan mumbled as she watched Lindsey scroll through the crazy names that adorned your contact list.
“Alright, Who’s Tay?” Lindsey asked after 30 seconds of scrolling, glancing over to you.
“It’s Taylor” You groaned.
“Who’s Taylor?” Emily asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you.
“No, one” You responded far too quickly, your cheeks turning a deep shade of red.
“So you tell no one that you love them all the time?” Megan hummed disbelieving as you tried to hide even further into Alex’s neck, and Kelley’s hand began to rub comforting circles on your back.
“Just tell us who he is, and we’ll leave you alone” Mal laughed at your discomfort, the memories of her rookie year still very fresh in her mind.
“It’s not a he. It’s my sister.” You said quietly. The room went silent at the admission, the eyebrows of your teammates furrowing. Some not understanding why having a sister named Taylor was such a big deal, and other’s trying to figure out why you had been so reluctant to give up such a small piece of information.
“Wait. The name on your uniform is Swift.” Someone said, breaking the tension in the room. You nodded slowly, whining as Alex attempted to remove you from your hiding spot.
“So that means that Taylor is Taylor Swift. As in The Taylor Swift” Emily nearly yelled back. Your Y/E/C orbs peaked out of Alex’s neck to meet the wide eyes of your teammates as you sent them yet another small nod.
“There’s no fucking way dude.” Lindsey snorted, shooting you a disbelieving look, causing you to laugh.
“Well, there is a way cause I exist so…” You shrugged, sending her a shy smile, as several indistinguishable questions were thrown your way from your shocked teammates.
“I’m going to call her to prove it.” She said, glancing back towards your phone, and you sucked in a deep breath.
“She’s probably in a meeting or something” you mumbled, returning to your hiding spot. You hadn’t intended this. Your phone rang out with telltale sounds of a facetime call, and your heart speeding up at the sound that signaled that someone had picked up.
“Hey kiddo, everything alright?” Taylors concerned voice filled the room, and the team gasped.
“Holy Shit you’re actually The Taylor Swift,” Emily said shocked, her mouth hanging open.
“Guilty as charged, and you must be The Emily Sonnett?” Your sister giggled, as Lindsey reached over and closed Emily’s mouth.
“You know who I am. How do you know who I am?” Emily began to fangirl, flapping her arms excitedly as the room burst into laughter.
“Y/n talks about you guys all the time. Speaking of Y/N/N, where is she?” Taylor questioned, concern leaking into her voice. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the women, but Y/n wasn’t one to introduce people to her. Her little sister was a shy, smol bean, and just the fact that she hadn’t seen her yet was causing her a little anxiety. They had always been close, and Taylor would be dammed if her little sister got hurt.
“Over there hiding in Alex’s neck” Lindsey laughed back, flipping the camera to show you sitting on Alex’s lap, curled into her neck. She sighed in relief, glad that you seemed to be connecting with someone other than her, as that was never one of your strong suits.
“Hey Tay,” Alex smiled, waving as the offending phone was passed to her. The Y/E/C eyed girl peeking out to smile at her older sister. Taylor smiled back and chatted for a few minutes with Alex before she needed to go. Y/n said her goodbyes and hung up, pointedly avoiding the questioning eyes of her teammates.
“So you talk about Sonnett, do you talk about me?” Lindsey asked, wiggling her eyebrows, and you couldn’t stop your cheeks from turning impossibly redder.
“Um…” You stalled, unable to form the right words. The truth was that you might have a small, well not so small, crush on a certain defender. It was kinda hard when she was a literal ball of sunshine all of the time, and your sister had given you great advice so far. The problem was that you were too much of a wus to do anything about it, and you were utterly convinced that the age difference left you with a 0% chance.
“Leave her alone guys,” Alex said sternly, tightening her arm around you and leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Why didn’t you tell me that I knew your sister?” She said quietly, rocking you back and forth.
You sighed. “Cause I wanted you guys to know me for my soccer skills and not who my family is.” You responded equally as quietly as if talking any louder would break you.
“Trust me, kid, we know all about your soccer skills” Tobin laughed, causing you to smile. You may or may not have nutmegged the nutmeg queen during practice, several times.
“But why would you hide?” Christen asked gently, moving towards you and Alex.
“People hear the name Swift and it’s like I don’t even exist. I mean, I’ve met all of you guys before and none of you even remember that. I mean I love Taylor, but soccer is my thing and I wanted it to stay that way.” You murmured, ashamed. You loved Taylor and you were incredibly proud of her, but for just this once you wanted to be known for who you are and not who your sister was.  
“You’ve met us before?” Kelley said in disbelief. How had they met you and not remembered it? Sure, you were a little shy, but you were incredibly sweet and adorable. Plus she was convinced that you would be hilarious once they got you to come out of your shell.
“When she invited you on the stage during the 1989 Tour. She did it because I was such a huge fan of you guys.” You answered back, staring down at your hands. She had felt guilty about missing your U20 championship match and had invited the team on stage to make up for it. You had been so excited, but you had once again faded into the background the moment your sister was in the room. She had tried to put you front and center, but you had been so nervous that words had been nearly impossible.
“That’s why she traded us tour merch for our signed jersey’s” Tobin put the pieces together, vividly remembering trading her jersey for a signed sweatshirt.
“Yep,” You said back, popping the p, and smiling at them.
“and you met us? Why don’t I remember that?” Megan cut back in, trying to remember that night. She remembered Taylor and going on stage, but where had you been? There was no way she would have intentionally ignored you.
“Because Taylor was there and I’m just her little sister.” You shrugged, used to the fact that Taylor cast a huge shadow, one you typically didn’t mind hiding in.
“Well, I can promise you one thing. You Y/n Swift are so much more than just Taylor’s little sister” Alex said with finality. Squeezing you tight.
“Yeah dude, you put Sonnett on her Ass during practice” Tobin laughed, as Emily pouted. It was true. Emily had been assigned to mark you, which had proven to be a very difficult task. It had taken both her and Becky to finally shut down your goal-scoring abilities.
“And got 3 goals, past Uncle.” Becky added, smiling at you, as you cuddled further into your team “mom”.
“You, my dear, are a fantastic striker, and every time you step onto the pitch you show the world that you’re on the team because you’re amazing and not because of who you’re related to,” Megan said, cooing at how adorable you were. Not that she would ever say it out loud, as they had learned early on that you hated being called adorable.
“And you guys don’t hate me for not telling you?” You asked quietly, glancing up at the 22 other women carefully watching you.
“We could never hate you kid,” Kelley grinned, bumping you with her shoulder.
“Now how bout you tell us what it’s like to The Taylor Swift as a sister?” Ali smirked at you. She was one of the few that knew exactly who you were from the first moment you had walked into camp.
“Well, her fans are crazy.” You laughed, your shoulder’s relaxing, reassured that you were so much more than just a Swift. You were a force to be reckoned with, and you couldn’t wait to show the world what you were made of.
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loving-inkpressions · 4 years ago
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Burning Up [4/?]
Summary: When she applied to be the secretary for managing partner Rosé McCorkell, Denali hadn't expected to end up working for the biggest pain in her ass, nor did she expect anything beyond a professional relationship.
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Just a little something short and sweet.
Prefer reading it on AO3?
It took almost three weeks for Denali’s ankle to heal, and within that space of time, Rosé had at her insistence driven Denali both to and from the office on a daily basis. During those drives, their friendship, as Denali pointedly called it as such in her mind, developed even more to the point where they had gotten even closer.
Purely platonic, of course.
Just work friends.
When her ankle had healed, Rosé had insisted to still drive her to work, but Denali had put her foot down and instead started taking the train to work again. That hadn’t stopped the redhead from driving her home on most evenings though.
On the fifth morning of Denali taking the train to work, she arrived to the office to find a box on her desk. It wasn’t a very big box, just a simple small brown one with a little purple bow on top. It looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she’d seen it before.
Dropping her bag onto the ground next to her desk, Denali picked it up and out of curiosity shook it just a little, hearing the muffled sound of several small things rattling inside.
“What you got there, Nali?”
Nearly dropping the box in shock, Denali whirled around to find Kandy staring at the box in her hand.
“Kandy, you scared the shit out of me!”
“Not my fault if you weren’t paying attention. Now come on, who gave that to you and what’s in it?”
“I don’t know.” Denali shrugged. “It was already here when I arrived.”
Kandy’s eyes brightened. “Looks like someone has a not-so-secret admirer!”
“Not so secret? What do you mean?”
“Girl, don’t pretend you don’t know who it’s from.”
Denali furrowed her brows, confused by the coy look on Kandy’s face.
“You mean Steve?”
Kandy’s expression shifted into disbelief as she looked at Denali as if she was stupid.
“No, it’s not Steve- Who the fuck is that anyway- No genius, think!”
Denali tapped the box with her finger. The only person she could think of was maybe Rosé, but it couldn’t be.
Could it?
“I don’t know who it’s from.” She said dumbly, making Kandy roll her eyes in exasperation.
“Sure, play dumb all you want. We all know it’s a certain hot boss that signs your pay cheque every month.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Well then, how about we open it and find out.” Kandy challenged, reaching over to grab the box from Denali, but the blonde pulled it away, cradling it to her chest.
“Okay okay, I’ll open it! No need to snatch it.”
Huffing, Denali stared at the box for a moment, ignoring the impatient Latina shifting at her side. Finally tugging the ribbon loose and lifting the lid, she was hit by the sweet scent of malt and chocolate.
“They’re cookies.”
The very same cookies that Denali had mentioned in passing that she wanted to try when Rosé had sent her home last night-
Oh.
“Cookies? Wait, aren’t those the cookies you were moaning about wanting to try from that new bakery since it opened? I thought they had a waiting list or something that stretched for months.”
“Yeah.” Denali muttered, staring at the said cookies nestled in the box, a small glossy black card with the bakery’s logo embossed on it amongst the sweet treats lying inside.
“They are.”
She hated it when Kandy was right.
———
“Okay, so what event is it this time?” Denali asked as she plopped into the seat opposite of Rosé for their daily morning meeting, folio and trusty pen in hand while the box of cookies was safely tucked away in her desk drawer.
Rosé looked up from the papers in front of her, a look of confusion on her face. “What?”
“The cookies? They’re meant to be a bribe of some sort, right?” Denali replied. After all, there was no way that the redhead had given them to her for no reason. It had to be part of a ploy to get her to do something.
Rosé put her pen down and folded her hands in front of her.
“I don’t follow.”
Denali snorted in disbelief.
“The last time when you were trying to get me to be your partner for the benefit, you tried to bribe me with sweets. So what is it this time? Another benefit? A charity auction? Some boring social event?”
Rosé chuckled, shaking her head as she leaned back in her seat, eyes twinkling in amusement at how suspicious Denali was. “I just got them for you because you said you were dying to try them last night.”
Denali stiffened at the unexpected response Rosé had given. “Wait, so there really isn’t an event that you want me to accompany you to?”
“No Denali, I just wanted to get them for you because you said you wanted to try them. No ulterior motives whatsoever.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” Rosé chimed back at her, leaning back forward. “Now what do you say when you get a present?” She teased, a manicured finger tapping the surface of her desk.
Denali shifted in her seat, a little embarrassed at having been wrong about her suspicions, but also a little warmed at the thought that Rosé had gone out of her way to get those cookies for her. She knew it couldn’t have been easy, especially on such short notice, and in the morning no less.
“Thank you, Rosé.” Denali said quietly, eyes focused on the desk in front of her, not wanting to meet her eyes.
Rosé smiled, taking in how Denali looked just a touch bit shy under her gaze, her cheeks a soft shade of pink and how the blonde was now biting her lower lip.
“You’re most welcome, angel.”
———
The cookies were only the start of the random gifts that began appearing on Denali’s desk on an almost daily basis, and there was no question who they were from. The gifts were never big. They had been simple enough, though sometimes toeing the line of almost expensive.
Rosé must have figured that Denali would start refusing them if they had been extravagant or impractical, and had instead settled for harmless ones.
At least they were simple in the beginning.
There were the little sweets that she’d somehow managed to sneak onto Denali’s desk: The seemingly never ending supply of chocolate in her desk drawer, different little mints she’d find after lunch in the middle of her keyboard, a random cupcake or some other treat delivered to her desk in the middle of the day, assorted breakfast pastries and coffee that would sometimes be waiting for her in the mornings.
Every time she got them, no matter how small they were, Denali’s heart would flutter in her chest, which she tried in vain to push down. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined these sweet gestures from Rosé, especially not after how disastrous their initial meeting was. She didn’t know what to make of them either, and she was too afraid to think of the possible implications behind them.
The little sweets soon evolved and included other things too.
Kandy was looking over her shoulder when she sat at her desk in the afternoon one day, staring at the flat box that had just been dropped off by a courier that was clearly addressed to Denali.
“Maybe she got you pizza this time.”
Denali laughed as she shook her head.
“I’m pretty sure DHL doesn’t deliver pizza.”
She stared at the package, finally snapping out of it when Kandy cleared her throat impatiently. Biting her lip, Denali carefully unwrapped the package and gasped.
It was a brand new folio.
The one that she had been using had started to show signs of age, having been one she had found in a thrift shop at the start of her time in the firm. Just yesterday she had been fingering the corner of it, silently bemoaning the fact that the material was peeling at the edges and the scuff marks were becoming more obvious.
This one was genuine leather, one that had been dyed a gorgeous deep blue with gold filigree detailing on it. Her name was also cleanly stitched onto the spine, and when she opened it there were more slots and pockets than her old one.
A white note card was peeking out of one of the bigger pockets inside.
Pulling the card out with slightly shaking fingers, she flipped it over to find Rosé’s familiar writing on it.
“Only the best for you.” Denali read aloud, her eyes widening and her heart picking up speed at the words written.
Kandy whistled lowly.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to just fuck you after all.”
———
To say that Denali was panicking would be an understatement. What Kandy had said had shaken her just a little bit, and she hadn’t really known what to do. All this time she had been trying to convince herself that maybe Rosé was just being nice, just being sweet to make up for how insufferable she had been in the early days, or had just wanted to be friends.
However, hearing someone else say it out loud made things very real for Denali.
She had been hiding out in the filing room like the coward she was under the guise of locating the files she needed for her next report. Rosé had the tendency to drop by her desk to exchange banter with her or to just tease her, or steal a little bit of whatever sweet treat she had given Denali for the day, but at this point, Denali had wanted to hide. She wasn’t sure how to face her own feelings, and in turn face Rosé.
Denali felt a little foolish. Part of her wanted to laugh it off and pretend that it really was all just purely platonic, but deep down she knew that there were different intentions behind Rosé’s actions. She had been so distracted by her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the time quickly ticking by, only realising how late it was when she heard the sound of the door knob twisting open and the sound of familiar stilettos clicking on the floor.
She panicked a little, realising she had no where to run as she sat on the ground in a corner of the room, though she was well hidden behind row after row of shelves.
Maybe Rosé was just here to locate something herself.
Maybe she’d just take what she needed and leave.
Shutting her eyes as she squeezed herself into a tighter ball, as if willing herself to grow smaller or invisible so Rosé wouldn’t find her, she crossed her fingers as she heard the sound of stilettos getting closer to her.
Maybe Rosé didn’t even know she was here.
“Denali?”
Or maybe not.
Torn between wanting to stay quiet and wanting to respond, Denali was startled when she felt gentle fingers brush through her hair. She opened her eyes and looked up to find Rosé kneeling in front of her, concern in her eyes.
“Baby, did something happen?”
Denali swallowed.
“Why do you ask that?”
“You always hide in the filing room when you’re stressed out.”
Denali stared at Rosé, surprised that she had picked up on her little habit.
“How did you know that?” She stammered.
Rosé just looked back at Denali and chuckled, tapping her on the nose. “It’s you, so of course I’d notice. Now tell me, did something happen? Do I need to fire someone again?” She teased, though Denali could tell she was only half joking.
Denali shook her head furiously. “No, nothing happened. I just wanted to get some files, that’s all.”
Rosé paused, observing Denali, noting how she was squirming under her scrutiny. It looked like Rosé wanted to say something, wanted to probe more, but she seemed to change her mind when she saw the hint of nervousness in Denali’s eyes. Not wanting to push it, Rosé instead stood up and held out her hand.
“Whatever you’re working on can wait until tomorrow, angel. It’s the end of the day and I’d rather you not work too late again considering how late you stayed last night.”
Denali looked at the redhead’s outstretched hand and, after a brief moment of hesitation, grasped it, letting Rosé help her to her feet. Once she was on her feet though, Rosé didn’t let go and instead led her out of the filing room, Denali’s hand held tightly in hers.
Gulping at the feel of her hand in Rosé’s, Denali couldn’t help but revel in how warm it was and how strong it felt. She found that she quite liked having her hand being held by Rosé.
As they entered the elevator to head back up to their floor, their hands still linked, Denali finally whispered.
“Hey Rosé?”
“Yes, Nali?”
“Thank you.”
Rosé looked over at Denali.
“What for?”
“The folio. I really like it.” She replied, peeking at Rosé through her lashes.
Rosé grinned, lifting their linked hands and pressing a small kiss to the back of Denali’s hand.
“Nothing but the best for my beautiful secretary.”
And Denali knew then that she couldn’t deny her feelings anymore.
She was falling for her boss.
———
The gifts only increased from then on. A new mug when Denali accidentally broke hers, an adorable little succulent when Rosé had commented how she needed to get more fresh air, a fountain pen when her pen had run out of ink in the middle of one of their meetings, a silk scarf when it started getting colder…
The list went on.
Each time Denali would make it a point to say thank you when she saw the redhead, and Rosé would smile, saying she was just looking after her. It made Denali’s heart warm and flutter wildly each time she said it.
And then one morning, she arrived to the office to find a new package on her desk. This one was bigger than all the others, the insignia of a familiar boutique on it.
Setting her bag down, Denali lifted the lid and peeled back the layers of tissue to reveal a dress and a note.
Be my partner for the anniversary gala?
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Forgiveness is Divine
Ron Speirs x Reader One Shot
Requested by the effervescent @hbo-monster-bob​ (my first ever request oh my lordy!)
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Summary: you get hurt and Ron loses his cool in front of the wrong people. Now he fears he may have truly lost you. 
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Warnings: mention of injury, potty words, a bit more angst than initially intended, some good ole RemorsefulButTryingHisVeryBest!Ron Speirs, some shitty dialogue i probably should’ve spent more time on
~ ~ ~ ~
He’d really fucked up. 
Even as he had ranted at you, he’d known how badly he was fucking things up.
But you...you’d made him worry. You’d scared him.
While helping Malarkey and Bull drag a wounded NCO into a trench, a bullet had ricocheted off of someone’s helmet and buried itself deep into your left bicep. The shock of it had made you drop, unable to catch yourself between your unresponsive arm and your death grip on the NCO’s vest.
Ron had thought you’d died.
He’d been sure that he’d just watched you die in front of him and then he was being fired at and he’d gone numb and gotten himself and his men out of the line of fire.
Hours later, he’d caught sight of you at the med station with one of the medics fishing around in your bicep for the fragments of the bullet that had stained your jacket beyond use with your blood.
You’d initially given him the soft smile you’d always saved for him when he stormed in, the fact that you were alive and safe eclipsed by his rage that you’d made him worry so badly.
His mother had once compared his temper to a tsunami- wild and destructive and overwhelming to those foolish enough to cross its path.
“The only difference between you and your father is that you stick around long enough to see the carnage you’ve created. My only wish for you, my sweetheart, is that you learn to own your mistakes and make them right again…..”
Ron had disappointed both of you with what he’d done next.
He’d let you have it.
He’d shouted and scolded and criticized you for your ‘carelessness’, tearing into you for abandoning your position of relative safety in favor of ‘playing a hero’. 
Ron had called you incompetent and reckless and questioned your sanity. Your smile had slipped from your face and he’d watched as you began to close yourself off to him, eyes becoming cold and detached despite the pain you must be feeling as the medic tweezed the deeply embedded shrapnel from your bicep. 
If you had been alone he knew you would’ve snapped right back at him or (at the very least) told him to calm down and find you when he’d remembered how to behave like a grown-up.
This brought him to his second fuckup, he’d done it in front of people. 
No, it was worse than that.  
He’d questioned your competence in front of three of your superiors (and several NCOs….and six of the medics).
When he’d finally run out of steam, you’d stared at him with a cool indifference that he’d only seen you slip into when you were dealing with something/someone you loathed. 
It was a look he’d never had cast his way before. And now that it was?
Ron felt about two inches tall. He hated it.
After making him suffer your silent and baleful glare for an agonizing two minutes, you’d turned to the (incredibly uncomfortable) medic and let your hateful expression melt into your regular, relaxed one.
“Any instructions for me, Doc?” you’d asked politely, and when the man had given you some gauze to repack the wound later you’d popped down off the table you’d been sitting on and walked past him like he was little more than furniture.
His outburst had gotten you taken off of the frontlines- away from the action and away from him.
When he’d asked Nixon where they’d put you, the other man had scoffed and given him an answer along the lines of “somewhere where her ‘incompetence won’t put others at risk’. Jackass.”
Welsh was significantly more helpful, telling Ron they’d sent you to Battalion for some extended desk duty (after scoffing at him, of course. Ron hadn’t realized just how quickly word had spread about his outburst).
Not that knowing where you were made much of a difference. 
He could be sitting right next to you and you’d still carry on as if you were alone, and when you did look at him it was so detached that all of his words of remorse died in his throat.
It was horrible.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
After reclaiming a hamlet on the airborne’s way to Germany, Ron had realized that you weren’t going to budge or relent in your indifference. 
Your willpower was clearly steadfast- you wouldn’t have made it this far if you weren’t at least a little bullheaded.
He was going to have to come to you. 
He had to try to make things right, even if you hated him for it...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When Ron had knocked and not received an answer, he’d decided to come in anyway.
You didn’t look up at him as he closed the door behind him, keeping your eyes firmly trained on the typewriter in front of you as your fingers flew across the keys. 
A neat stack of (what he assumed to be) freshly typed reports for Sink rested beside your still-smoking cigarette on the table, and from the slope of your shoulders Ron could only assume that you’d been at this task for hours.
Clearing his throat, he tried to ease you into conversation.
“Want me to take those to Battalion for you—?”
“No. I don’t.”
Well, at least that was more than you’d said to him in the past week. 
Ron had never imagined he would ever be the sappy type to miss the sound of someone's voice. Of course, that was before he met you. Before he’d started to care for you in the way a man cares for a woman, rather than the care a CO has for his fellow officers.
Not that he’d told you that. Not yet.
And now he may never get to- considering you’d refused to speak to him for the last three weeks about anything other than urgent work matters…..
You brought your cigarette to your lips and pulled from it deeply as you read over all that you had typed so far, the angry tick of your clenched jaw the only sign that you knew he was still there.
Even as you despised him, Ron still found you beautiful. A vengeful divinity with a glare that could cut glass and a stubbornness that rivaled his own.
He walked over to stand behind you, reading over your shoulder and realizing that it wasn’t reports that you had been working on….but death notices
You’d once told him it was your least favorite thing to do, that you’d gladly take latrine duty for the rest of your life if it meant you never had to write another.
“Soul sucking,” you’d called it, a night when the two of you shared a cigarette while on patrol. Your nose had been red from the cold and your eyes a little glassy from unshed tears, but you’d given him a sad smile when you’d noticed the grim look he was giving you. “I can’t remember the last time I wrote something that didn’t begin with ‘We deeply regret to inform you…’
Ron used to know how you felt about everything, and if he were being honest with himself he liked knowing how you felt about things- good or bad. For all the men you were the consummate professional, bright and even-tempered and nurturing.
But with Ron, you let yourself be a person. 
A brilliant, passionate, driven person whose complicated thoughts and feelings complimented his own so well he’d briefly considered changing his stance on the concept of soul-mates.
With a grim weight in his chest, he realized that all of those feelings toward you may have to be changed to the past tense.
Stubbing out the cigarette with ink-stained fingers, you pulled the letter from the typewriter and added it to the pile. He watched as you picked up a pen and began crossing names off a list he hadn’t seen before. You’d gotten through three of the five pages and it was already two in the morning.
Guilt flooded him when he realized that you’d been having to do this for at least month. 
If he hadn’t understood your anger towards him before, he certainly did now.
“Y/N…” he began, not surprised when you sniffed and made to get more paper for your next batch of death letters as if he hadn’t spoken. “It’s late, you should rest.”
Silence as you secured another sheet of paper in place and centered it.
Ron waited a few more seconds before he took another step closer to you, hand hovering over your shoulder hesitantly.
I owe my mother a few apologies if this is how she was ever made to feel with my father.
When he placed his hand on your shoulder you immediately stiffened, fingers freezing where they rested over the keys like you’d turned to stone.
He’d expected as much, yet it still stung.
Ron says your name again, more softly than he thinks he’s ever spoken to another person in his life.
“You need to rest—”
“Are you issuing an order, Lieutenant?” Your voice was sulfa powder on an open wound- searing and sharp. 
Your head has turned minutely in the direction of his hand on your shoulder, and if a glare could cause burns he’s sure his hand would’ve been ash by now.
He shakes his head. “No, no I’m not.”
You seem to nod in acknowledgment, only stopping when his thumb kneads into one of the tight knots along your trapezius. Ron sees your jaw tighten again, but he doesn’t take his hand away.
Surprisingly, you’re allowing it to linger where it is as well.
“Good, Sink’s commands outrank yours anyway. Besides, it’s not as if I have to be anywhere in the morning. You made sure of that—”
You cut yourself off when Ron steps up beside you and crouches down, eyes trained forward so all he can see if your profile. 
“Please,” he whispers, moving his hand from your shoulder in favor of taking one of yours in between his calloused palms.
With an awful surge of hope, he decides to put it all out there, knowing just how easily you could reject him and leave him alone again.
Maybe I don't want to be alone, not like I used to.
“I thought you were dead, Y/n.”
You sigh ruefully at that, closing your eyes with a grimace.
“Hey, look at me—”
For the longest time you don’t, but just when he thinks you’ve shut him out again you let your eyes open and allow your doubtful glaze to fall on him.
You may as well have embraced him, considering the overwhelming relief he felt as he looked into your eyes.
“It, it was….I shouldn’t have spoken to you as I did—”
“You didn’t speak to me at all.” You nearly hiss, the deep breath you took the only display of just how furious you were beneath the surface of civility. Ron’s chest tightened uncomfortably when he caught your lip quiver, yet when he made as if to comfort you, you gave him a look that shut him right up.
You weren’t finished yet.
“You were out of line, Speirs. You had no right to speak to me like that—”
“I know...”
“You fucking humiliated me! In front of Winters, Moose, and Sink- not to mention every single goddamned man in that tent—”
‘I know—”
“What in the fuck were you thinking? Do you have any idea how hard it’s been getting them to see me as anything other than something to fuck or mock? Years, Ronald! All gone like that—!”
You cut yourself off again when you start to cry, biting the inside of your cheek in an attempt to regain composure.
You were right, he hadn’t been thinking about that at all. 
He’d never thought much about the immature comments he’d overheard from the NCOs and replacements, never considered that any of those childish innuendos had ever been said to you directly.
“I didn’t intend to…..when you got shot I wasn't able to do anything—”
You furrowed your brows at him and made a face. “I didn’t need you to do anything. I’m not even in your company.”
He feels as if he’s about to lose you again. The idea makes his throat feel uncomfortably tight and his blood is beginning to run cold.
Make it right. I have to make this right….
“I know you don’t need me to take care of you,” he says quietly, looking down at your hand in his and bringing it to his lips so he’s speaking against the curve of your knuckles. “But I think I need to do it for me.”
When he looks back at you he sees that your eyes are wide, one or two of your tears have spilled over and down your cheek.
“Jesus, I’m….Ron—” you begin, but stop when he shakes his head minutely.
“You know.” He interrupts. “I know you’ve got to know by now….”
Of course you know. You’re one of the smartest people he’s ever met. If anyone could read his true intentions through his blunt demeanor, it would be you.
But he’s glad that you don’t ask him to elaborate further. You seem just as content as he does to leave it unnamed.
You roll your lips together a few more times before taking a shaky breath. 
“That doesn’t mean you get to treat me like that.”
He hums in acknowledgment. “You’re right. It doesn’t. Forgive me.”
You open your mouth to reply, but a yawn catches you unaware and Ron can’t help but smile slightly at the simplicity of the action. 
When you raise your left arm to hide your yawn into your elbow you hiss in pain, and instantly Ron is anxious again.
“You okay?” He asks, and you nod despite your grimace.
“Yeah, yeah. I just forget sometimes.”
When you lower your arm he watches as you take a deep breath and turn back to your work.
“I’ll do them.”
You whip your head to look at him, another yawn interrupting your questioning gaze.
“What? No, don't be silly. I’m almost done….”
Something in the look he gives you shuts you up, and when he gives your hand a squeeze you seem to sigh in defeat.
“You’re not going to leave me alone until I go to bed, are you?”
He gives you a smirk. “Good guess.”
Standing up from his crouch he gently coaxed you into a standing position, nodding his head away from the desk and towards the darker corner of the room where your makeshift bed is set up. 
You give him a tight smile. “Gotta rebandage the arm first….oh-kay then.”
The rolled gauze is barely out of your pocket before Ron takes it from your hand, pointedly looking down at your covered arm.
“Ron...you really don’t have to—”
“I know that, but I want to anyway.”
And because you’re infinitely more forgiving than any mortal being could ever hope to be- more forgiving than a beast like him deserved, you let him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Sitting beside you on the floor, Ron was careful when unwrapping your old bandage, trying as hard as he could to keep his touch light.
The injury was red and bruised and angry but it was healing- just as the medic had promised. You’d have a scar, but you didn’t seem to mind that possibility.
You said his name quietly, and he realized he’d been staring.
When his thumbs ghost around the curve of your bicep you shiver, and when Ron looks back at your face he sees a light blush dusting your cheeks.
“I’m fine,” you say, exhaustion apparent in your voice now. “Stop looking at me like that—”
“Like what?” he says with a small smile, setting the clean bandage over your wound and feeling a pleasant tightness in his chest when you snorted a laugh.
“Like... like you’re a disappointed babysitter.”
Ron laughed at that, shooting you a look before starting to wrap the strips of gauze around your upper arm.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence as he tended to your arm, and every so often you offered him your cigarette to take a drag from.
Things still felt somewhat precarious between the two of you, yet Ron also felt that something more significant had been established in the dingy office you’d been assigned to stay in.
In the morning, Ron would approach Sink and Winters and see if he could get you back from battalion HQ. Not as a man who cared for you, but as a soldier who’d made a mistake and grievously misjudged another soldier’s character.
Anything to ensure you didn’t have to sit in this room another day and write to the families of dead soldiers.
When he’d finished bandaging your arm, you gave him permission to help you maneuver it back into the sleeve of your sweater. He felt your eyes on him the whole time and he swore he’d never known a feeling so sweet.
Your eyes are heavy with slumber already, but you still try once more to discourage him from finishing your paperwork.
“I can do it in an hour or two, just a quick nap—”
“If you were this reluctant to sleep as a child, I’m starting to get why so many of your babysitters were ‘disappointed.’”
Ron lifts up the pile of blankets you’d reluctantly allowed him to find for you, and despite your protests, you scoot yourself underneath them and fold your arms across your chest like a petulant teenager as he tucks them around you.
“Children tend to mirror the behavior of those in positions of authority,” you say offhanded, almost sounding like you were directly quoting from some textbook on child psychology. “Maybe one should look within themselves and explore what unfavorable quality they may be projecting upon the blank canvas of youth….”
You laugh at the furrowed confusion on his face.
“You must be a poetic drunk.” Ron offers, and from the grin on your face he knows he’s on to something. “Go to sleep, before you start reciting Shakespeare or something—”
“Twelfth Night or Romeo and Juliet?”
“Y/N.”
Ron’s fingertips brushing across your cheek instantly quiets you, your eyes trained on his face as he allowed himself to openly admire you for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you nod.
“I know you are.” 
When he sees the obvious haze of sleep start to curl around your gaze, Ron knows he needs to let you rest.
“Wake me up in an hour?” you ask, something in your tone of voice seeming to acknowledge the slim chance of him agreeing to your request.
“Maybe. Sleep.”
With a half-hearted glare, you mumble something equivalent to ‘yeah yeah, okay’ and turn your head away from him and close your eyes.
Ron stays where he is, stroking at your hairline in the same calming way his mother used to do for him when he’d had a bad dream as a child.
If his mom were here now, he imagined she’d be proud of him.
Maybe he wasn’t fated to be distant and cold and cruel like his father.
For the first time in his life, Ron let himself begin to dream of life after all of this.
The only thing he knew for sure?
He’d do anything- everything in his power, to make sure you were a part of it.
~ ~ ~ ~ TAG LIST TAG LIST!
@mrseasycompany​, @itswormtrain​
(Love you guys! hasta la pasta, my dudes!)
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