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robininthelabyrinth · 2 years

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Extra for Tedious Joys: Lan Qiren, still not well after Cangse Sanren death, goes to Qishan for the "conference" instead of Lao Nie. After few hours of Wen Ruohan in his worst mood and Wen Xu and Wen Chao emulating their father, he went 'is anyone gonna teach this kids?' and didn't wait for an answer

Relentless - ao3 (chapter 1)

“Why are we even here?” Wen Xu groused.

“Yeah! That’s right! Why are we here?” Wen Chao immediately chimed, very obviously taking his cues from his elder brother – much to the latter’s irritation, judging by his immediate scowl.

Lan Qiren knew that he needed to pick his next words very carefully. With recalcitrant students, a teacher only had a few opportunities to really connect with them. If he allowed them to dismiss him or categorize him as an enemy at this early stage, it would be an incredibly uphill battle to gain enough respect in order to teach them anything, and in this case, given the strength of their background and the fact that this little teaching session was both likely to be short and definitely completely unauthorized, it would quite possibly make it completely impossible to ever get through to them.

“You are here,” Lan Qiren said solemnly, each word slow and thoughtful, “because your father is an ass.”

Complete silence.

As he’d hoped. Taking advantage of their shock, Lan Qiren flicked his sleeves back and sat down at the front of the small room he’d found – not quite a classroom, more like a windowless closet, but it had desks and a seat he could pull to the front, anyway, and that would do the trick in a pinch.

“I am not asking you to bow to me as your teacher,” he said flatly. “Sect Leader Wen would undoubtedly not permit it, and, regardless, I do not take on students that do not go through the proper process. However, it offends me on a fundamental level that you have reached your present ages without having mastered the most basics of requirements of a scholar, so I am going to instruct you on those basics today.”

Also, it would serve very well as an excuse to get Lan Qiren out of that awful party.

What in the world had possessed him to insist on going to Sect Leader Wen’s little gathering in Lao Nie’s place to convey the other man's regrets for not attending, especially when he was still not at his full strength following his past illness? He wasn’t the one that Wen Ruohan wanted to see here – and the man had made no effort to hide that obvious fact, either.

Lan Qiren might have been able to grit his teeth and bear it, only he’d seen the two Wen boys acting as if their father’s wretched behavior was an appropriate role model, had heard them trying to boast to their lackeys and getting basic facts completely wrong, and, well…here they were.

Whether they should be here or not was a different matter, but they were here.

“…can he say that?” Wen Chao asked his brother in an undertone, sounding shocked and appalled. Wen Xu still looked dazed as if he’d been struck on the head; they were both very clearly still fixated on his initial statement. “About Father? He can’t say that, right?”

“I – I don’t – ”

“As you know, I am the acting Sect Leader Lan,” Lan Qiren interjected smoothly. “I am your father’s peer and equal –”

Well, as much as anyone was. Technically, he was, anyway, even if the Lan sect was no match for the Wen in martial prowess or wealth or dominion over others, and he himself nowhere near a match for a cultivation monster like Wen Ruohan.

Lan Qiren also didn’t actually care about his rank, of course, technically or otherwise. If he’d had his way, his brother would still be sect leader rather than trapped in an unending seclusion of his own making and he’d be wandering the world and its many wonders, a sword at his side and a guqin on his back, instead of being stuck as an acting sect leader that no one inside the sect really respected, who desperately pursued his hobby of teaching students from outside their sect as the only thing that would make him not go completely mad.

But this wasn’t about him: the Wen sect cared immensely about rank and status. Every friend the Wen boys possessed had been carefully vetted to be of appropriately high status, and even the parties held at the Nightless City were divided up in such a way that the lowest ranking sect leaders could only mingle outside, yearning to get invited into the inner circles and becoming increasingly willing to do anything to get there.

If rank was what it took to make a connection here, he would use it.

“– but in the interest of letting this lesson flow in a smooth manner, you may refer to me as Teacher Lan, or simply ‘Teacher’ if you prefer. Wen Xu!”

Wen Xu startled and sat up straight, blinking owlishly at him.

“How do you differentiate between yao, mo, gui and guai?”

“Uh,” he said, blinking rapidly. It was an easy question, and one Lan Qiren liked to start off questioning with, since most people knew it even when they weren’t exceptionally good students. People liked to answer questions when they knew the answer, and would do so even if they didn’t actually need to. “That is – yao are formed out of living non-humans, while mo are formed…”

Lan Qiren kept up the rhythm for a while, question and answer. Every time Wen Xu got something wrong, he would correct him, then turn and fire off some questions at Wen Chao – even easier ones, of course, given the difference in age between them, but still ones he should know. Any time Wen Chao erred, he’d turn back to Wen Xu, leaving neither of them time to be smug at the other’s missteps.

It was fairly evident that the two of them had no natural fellow-feeling as brothers, likely due to having been played against each other for years on end. Lan Qiren wasn’t sure if it was Wen Ruohan who’d done it deliberately for whatever reason or if it was simply their mothers’ instigation, but that sort of ridiculous internal politics had no room in their current cultivation world. Wen Ruohan wasn’t actually an emperor, after all; in the end, they would both represent the Wen sect against the other sects, and they were better off as a united front, with a bond the rest of the sects wouldn’t be able to undermine. Even if they couldn’t be expected to be as close as his own nephews, who were blood brothers, then it was still far better that they follow the example of Lao Nie’s boys, who were half-siblings as well but utterly devoted to one other.

Of course, that wasn’t something he could fix over the course of a single afternoon. But that didn’t mean there was any reason to allow them to misbehave while under his watch.

Once he’d finished the initial examination, Lan Qiren moved on to more practical exercises. Wen Chao was miserably behind in basically everything, up to and including literacy, while Wen Xu was very good in some areas and absolutely useless in others, completely unbalanced. Mindful of the fact that they had no real reason to respect him or listen to him, Lan Qiren opted for a more unorthodox method that had served him well in the past with some of the more rambunctious of his students: he set up a weiqi board and permitted them to make a move for every complete scripture they were able to produce, Wen Xu remembering and reciting while Wen Chao painstakingly wrote it out.

Weiqi had never been Lan Qiren’s strength, although he had mastered it the way all gentlemen must and even enjoyed it in the cheerfully blundering way that most amateurs had, and it came as little surprise that with the two of them together they were very nearly able to prevent a complete trouncing.

“Three moves,” Wen Xu muttered almost feverishly when they finished the first game. “I could have – if I’d only had three more moves –”

“You may have as many moves as you like, provided you complete the work,” Lan Qiren said. He himself was also writing out the scriptures, then pondering and taking his moves; it was only fair for him to be under the same burden as them, although of course he actually knew all the things he was writing out and thereby took less time. “I did not actually set a rule that we needed to take turns.”

“…are you saying I could’ve taken multiple turns if we’d finished faster?”

Lan Qiren hummed in assent.

“Another game!” Wen Xu demanded, then turned to Wen Chao. “And you, write faster!”

“If there are errors in either the writing or the content, the move is invalidated,” Lan Qiren said mildly. “You are welcome to encourage him to maximize speed, but you may regret it.”

Wen Xu took the bait he’d left out there and moved over to helping his brother with his writing, supervising to reduce errors while wracking his brain to think of more sentences (ideally, short ones) that would meet Lan Qiren’s criteria for what was necessary to make a move. Wen Chao was practically vibrating from excitement the entire time. It was plainly obvious that he idolized his brother and took him as his guide in all things, even as he pretended to disdain and fear him the way someone had clearly told him he should – he was too young for that sort of thing to have actually sunk in, thankfully, like a dog that hadn’t quite been kicked enough times to stay away. The important part, though, was that he actually listened when Wen Xu instructed him, and tried his best to write the words out correctly.

He didn’t always succeed, but he was sincerely trying, as he very rarely did.

“Hm,” Lan Qiren said, examining one effort that had left them both red-faced – it was wrong, but consistently so. “I’ll accept it.”

“He misspelled half the words. As always!” Wen Xu hissed, clearly hideously embarrassed, and Wen Chao turned his face away in shame.

“Only if you don’t account for his visual imbalance,” Lan Qiren said, and they both turned to stare at him. “If you do, it’s fine, and thereby qualifies.”

“Visual imbalance? What’s that?”

“I’m not a doctor, I don’t know the details even if I can recognize it when I see it. To my understanding, it’s something to do with a blockage in the meridians that circulate qi to the eyes…the words move around on the page, is that it?” he asked Wen Chao, who looked stunned but slowly nodded. “The first time you look, the strokes are in the wrong place – even if you read it several times, it never accords? You have to squint at the words and use all your focus before you can clear up the issue, and even that doesn’t always work?”

Another nod.

“And this problem doesn’t arise when it comes to mathematics?”

He shook his head, confirming Lan Qiren’s suspicion.

“It’s not uncommon. In many cases, it becomes less serious as you age and your cultivation increases; the key is making sure that you don’t learn the wrong characters in your youth.” As Wen Chao very clearly had. “Are you going to make your move?”

Wen Xu immediately spun to focus on the weiqi board, but Wen Chao was still staring at Lan Qiren, open-mouthed with shock.

He glanced briefly at his brother, who was muttering to himself as he pondered strategies, then leaned forward and grabbed at Lan Qiren’s sleeve, tugging it. “Are you sure it’s because of that?” he asked in a pitched whisper. “Isn’t it just because I’m stupid?”

“You’re badly educated, not stupid,” Lan Qiren told him sternly. “You’re a very clever little boy and you know it, which is why it frustrates you so much to get chastised for failing to perform basic scholastic tasks. That, in turn, thereby renders you uninterested in them. That is a completely logical response, nothing to do with stupidity.”

Wen Chao seemed shaken by this direct attack.

“If you want to avoid such chastisement, there are methods to help compensate for your imbalance, as well as a sort of resin you can chew to help settle your restlessness as you study; quite a few of my students have benefited from it in the past,” Lan Qiren added. “I will leave you a note that you can pass along to your teacher, whoever they are, and with any luck that will assist you in the future.”

It would be best if Wen Ruohan could be convinced to send the boys to him, he thought to himself. Unfortunately, it seemed highly unlikely, even given his reputation of being a teacher capable of turning even the most useless trash into a proper gentleman. After all, sending them to him would still involve admitting that there was something the Wen sect couldn’t provide, and therefore it was likely to be deemed unacceptable as an affront to Wen Ruohan’s ridiculously overweening pride.

Lan Qiren thought it was rather ridiculous, all told. Sending children to him wouldn’t admit anything other than convenience – of course, in his opinion, he wasn’t actually anything special as a teacher. His reputation had been obtained wholly by accident; he had merely been more desperate than most to get students for himself, and willing to accept anyone he could get to come. Like most sects these days, Lan sect children were traditionally taught by a wide variety of teachers rather than each one having a single shizun to follow, leaving him with little to do in most cases – anyway, even if they used the old approach, the only children he’d ever actually accept as personal disciples were his nephews – and so he’d cast his net out to the other sects instead. Naturally those other sects did not want to allow an outsider to teach their children, but most of them had a few ‘problem children’, as they were often termed, and those they were willing to send to him out of sheer frustration. For those children, Lan Qiren exercised the utmost limits of his patience and ingenuity, and he’d managed to do well with any number of them…and somehow somewhere along the line it had turned into a reputation that he thought was rather overblown.

The only use of such a reputation was in getting him access to even more students, including those of the type he favored most, the obedient ones that wanted to learn. Unfortunately, it also meant his services as a teacher were now considered desirable, even fashionable, and suddenly his classes were full not only of students that needed instruction but those that would barely condescend to it. Lan Qiren had a great deal less patience for those ‘genius’ students who fancied themselves too good for his lessons and instead sought to disrupt them at every instance, clowning around and harming the education of others simply because they themselves didn’t require it – there was a wide gulf between the arrogance of people like Wen Xu, who desperately needed the help but had too much pride to admit to it, and some of the jackass ‘prodigies’ he’d been forced to accept as the price of getting some of the students he actually wanted.

The frustrating thing was, a little bit of one-on-one tutoring would help these two boys so much…maybe, despite it all, it was worth trying to speak to Wen Ruohan directly, to at least try to point him in the right direction. As a rule, Lan Qiren tried to avoid conversing with Wen Ruohan as much as possible, insofar as it was possible given their respective roles as sect leaders of Great Sects – the other man was slick and cunning and too often cruel, and he didn’t think very much of Lan Qiren.

That was because of Lao Nie, though it wasn’t really the man’s fault, or even Lan Qiren’s. It was simply that Lao Nie was charming and charismatic, magnetic enough to overcome even Wen Ruohan’s usual disdain of all people not surnamed Wen, only he didn’t respond to Wen Ruohan’s begrudging grant of favor by dropping all his other friends and spending all his time paying court to Wen Ruohan the way the other man clearly thought he ought to be doing. Lan Qiren was one of Lao Nie’s friends, their sects long-standing allies, and that fact clearly rubbed Wen Ruohan the wrong way.

It had only been a few years ago that Lao Nie had even sent his own son and heir to join Lan Qiren’s classes – Nie Mingjue was a charming boy, a genius but not irritating with it, and it had been a pleasure to teach him. It had been Lao Nie’s well-meant attempt to encourage Lan Qiren’s teaching efforts, but it had immediately been misinterpreted in flagrant ways all over the cultivation world, including by people who took relish in suggesting that it was evidence of a more personal connection between the two sect leaders. This scurrilous rumor (wholly baseless) was of course ridiculous, but it would probably have been far less of a problem if Lao Nie were not also, as Lan Qiren suspected, in the midst of his own clandestine affair with Wen Ruohan.

Lao Nie had such bad taste.

Really, given the rumors and misunderstandings and his rather infamous possessiveness, it was no real surprise that Wen Ruohan couldn’t stand Lan Qiren, but Lan Qiren couldn’t help but wish the man could be a little more mature about it. Sure, he wasn’t quite as insufferable as Jin Guangshan, who continued to compare Lan Qiren to his brother despite it having been oven ten years since Lan Qiren had assumed the role, but Wen Ruohan was far better at finding all of Lan Qiren’s sore spots to press on. All those little jibes about his lack of experience and indifferent reputation for night-hunting…

“Let us shift over to traditional lessons,” he said, seeing that the second game had ended in a hard-fought tie that made Wen Xu preen with pride like a crow on the verge of mating season. “Wen Xu, since you have been criticizing your brother’s handwriting, let us see a demonstration of your own.”

He froze. “Uh…”

Lan Qiren opted to start again with some easier elements. It was clear that Wen Xu greatly valued being right, or rather that he valued being validated, and it was equally clear he didn’t especially care if he actually was right as long as he could win praise. Lan Qiren’s praise was sparingly given, and only when deserved; he made that very clear, and made Wen Xu work for it while Wen Chao focused on his own assignment, which was to learn a calligraphy style that was more easily readable for imbalanced eyes.

If only he had more than a single afternoon…!

He sighed, regretful. The boys weren’t actually all that bad as students, really, and certainly not as bad as he’d initially feared. All it took was gaining their respect, however temporarily – the trick of knocking them off balance with crudeness was really only effective in the short-term – and they were willing to try their best, and that was all he really asked.

He noted Wen Chao stifling a yawn, his third, and regretfully decided that it was time to draw the teaching session to a close. He’d probably kept them for too long, anyway; the party might even now be winding down, and it was essential that he slip back in amongst the crowd unnoticed.

“Let me see where you are,” he ordered, and examined what they brought him. “Wen Xu, this essay is persuasive and well-organized. Wen Chao, you’ve made greater strides in learning the new style than I would have expected. You have both done well.”

Both boys looked taken aback for a moment, then glowed with pride.

“That will be all for today,” Lan Qiren continued. “I will write assessments for you later, since we will not be continuing your lessons further –”

“Why not?”

Lan Qiren froze in place, and felt a sudden sympathy to Wen Xu for all the times he’d put him on the spot earlier.

That low voice, amused and smooth as the silk used to hang empresses, was most definitely not one of the boys. Wen Ruohan himself was standing at the door, watching them with that faint smirk that always danced on his lips, making him look three times as dangerous a predator as any of the targets in the organized night-hunts set up by the sects for entertainment.

And right now, his gaze was fixed very firmly on Lan Qiren.

At that point, Lan Qiren very abruptly realized that not only did he very much did not have permission for this little impulsive foray into tutoring, but also that taking two boys under the age of adulthood away from the supervision of their assigned minders, however useless, and keeping them with him for an entire afternoon could be willfully misinterpreted as kidnapping if one were inclined to make trouble.

Such as, say, Wen Ruohan often was.

“Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Qiren said politely, keeping his dignity and rising to his feet even as both Wen Xu and Wen Chao turned and ran over to their father at once, each one crowing loudly about their achievements. Wen Xu kept trying to tell him about the fact that he’d nearly beaten Lan Qiren at weiqi even with one hand tied behind his back – metaphorically, of course, he was referring to Wen Chao’s writing speed – while Wen Chao kept hanging off of his father’s sleeve and telling him that he wasn’t stupid, that he’d managed nearly a whole page of words without getting tired, that he’d managed to be helpful…

“Enough,” Wen Ruohan said, and they both fell silent, pulling away to stand properly at attention in front of him. He surveyed them thoughtfully. “Teacher Lan said you did well?”

They both nodded and looked at him hopefully.

“Then you have done well.”

Both boys looked as overjoyed as if the day had suddenly been declared both their birthdays and also the New Year.

“Dismissed,” Wen Ruohan added, and turned his gaze to Lan Qiren as the boys both dashed out of the room with skips in their steps.

Lan Qiren had by now arranged his sleeves such that his hands were linked together in a formal posture.

“I overstepped my boundaries,” he said, admitting his fault openly – although not quite going the extra step of asking for forgiveness. It was not wise to show weakness in front of a tiger, even if it already knew. “I hope I have not troubled you in doing so.”

“Oh, you overstepped,” Wen Ruohan said, voice light and mocking. “Is that what we call it now, when you whisk my boys out of my sight to some hidden room where no one can see what you’re up to?”

Lan Qiren suppressed a sigh: of course Wen Ruohan immediately went there.

“I meant no harm,” he said, then added, “Sect Leader Wen,” hoping that the title would serve as a reminder of their equivalent status.

“No, indeed, or else I would have found you doing something very different than teaching them,” Wen Ruohan said dryly, still sounding amused, and Lan Qiren suppressed a wince. “What was that A-Chao was saying about – an imbalance, was it?”

Lan Qiren blinked, taken aback. He’d been bracing himself to hear a list of whatever benefits Wen Ruohan saw fit to try to extract over his misstep – that was how their interactions usually went, with Lan Qiren at his most proper and Wen Ruohan looking for any little bit of leverage he could, knowing as he did how unsteady and uncertain Lan Qiren’s foundation in his own sect was. He was always pushing and pulling at every weakness he could find, always scheming for benefits or something he could use to his sect’s advantage.

Lan Qiren hadn’t expected him to focus on…on, well, being a student’s parent.

Perhaps there was some hope.

For the children, at least. Lan Qiren was sure Wen Ruohan would go back to the politics of it all later, after his initial concerns had been assuaged.

“The doctors in my sect don’t have a proper name for it, but I’m given to understand that it functions as a burden to the eyes, in particular when one attempts to read. Accordingly I have chosen to call it a ‘visual imbalance’,” Lan Qiren explained, glad for the opportunity to speak on the subject. “The official theory for the cause is a blocked or impeded meridian of some sort or another. It is uncommon, although not rare, in children; for some, it resolves itself in adolescence, while for others it persists. I have seen it in quite a number of my students – it is often mistaken for stupidity or willful misconduct, as their eyesight is generally fine when it comes to other aspects of their lives, such as swordplay. In many cases, they’re even simultaneously capable of reading numbers for the purposes of mathematics or other things that do not involve words…”

“And you believe A-Chao has this imbalance?”

“Yes, I do. His ability to do sums by far outstrips his literacy, which is unusual in his age group. Furthermore, I had him practice his writing and you can see he’s learned a few of the characters incorrectly, such that he repeatedly makes the same mistake…”

Wen Ruohan was smiling at him. Not a real smile, his eyes remained as dead as always, but an unnervingly thoughtful one – the sheer degree of focus and intensity was almost palpable. It made Lan Qiren remember with whom he was speaking, and the dangers thereof. He trailed off and cleared his throat, adding, “I’m sure his teacher has said similar things to you already.”

“He has not,” Wen Ruohan said, still smiling. “Something I will undoubtedly need to mention when I next speak with him. Perhaps he was too scared of me to say anything.”

That was – not unlikely.

“In fact, I find myself encountering that problem a great deal as of late.” Wen Ruohan shook his head in mock sadness. “When one becomes as powerful as I have become, it seems that many of those around me choose to prioritize what they believe I wish to hear over the truth. A truly regretful state of affairs.”

“Perhaps it would happen less often if you didn’t throw the messengers into your Fire Palace whenever they gave you bad news,” Lan Qiren said, voice acidic. He’d seen it happen earlier that very day – the foolish man who’d said something about the new saber Wen Ruohan had been gifted being not as impressive as Lao Nie’s had been dragged out of the main hall by force. It was quite obvious that the man had just been starting trouble to begin with, but Wen Ruohan’s rage had only grown more and more as time went on and he dwelled on the taunt further and further, and it had ultimately peaked when Lao Nie had failed to answer his summons to bring his Jiwei to compare as he had demanded. In the end, absent anyone else to rage against, he had turned his anger onto his unfortunate subordinate…

“Are you criticizing me, Teacher Lan?” Wen Ruohan still seemed amused.

“Merely offering friendly advice,” Lan Qiren said coldly. He didn’t know what to make of Wen Ruohan’s choice to address him as teacher rather than sect leader. It was now the second time he had done so, both today and ever, and his usual emphasis on the title seemed to signify that he meant something by it.

Lan Qiren wished, not for the first time, that he was a little better at understanding people. Perhaps, if he was, he might understand what the implication was. As it was, if Wen Ruohan thought he was successfully conveying something, he was very wrong.

“You’re very good at that,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren arched his eyebrows. “Teaching, not advice. I’d heard stories of your – shall we say, your prowess in that field, and I must admit I’d doubted it.”

Wen Ruohan was definitely going somewhere with this.

“I appreciate the compliment,” Lan Qiren said cautiously.

“Oh, no need to be so modest,” Wen Ruohan said, stepping forward and – of all things – reaching out to straighten the lapels of Lan Qiren’s robes, as if he were some sort of servant and Lan Qiren the master. He somehow managed to make the gesture terrifying. “They say you can work miracles, don’t they? Turning even a waste into a gentleman. And for my part, I’ve found myself rather the expert on the subject of teachers, adequate or otherwise. You see, I’ve gone through quite a number of teachers for my boys these past few months – either they quit in frustration or I have to get rid of them…inadequate, one and all.”

He didn’t lift his hands from Lan Qiren’s chest, and the weight of them burned warm.

“…do you want to send your sons to study at the Cloud Recesses next year?” Lan Qiren hazarded a guess. It seemed implausible, but not outside the bounds of possibility. “We accept outsiders –”

“Let us not be imprecise. You accept outsiders as students, not your sect. The Lan sect’s devotion to its rules is famous, but previous generations have only allowed observers to attend lectures sparingly – as rare as a discussion conference.”

“That is correct,” Lan Qiren said, because it was. Even if he were inclined to argue the point, which he wasn’t, it wasn’t like he could come up with anything that would serve to counter Wen Ruohan, who had been there to see a number of those previous generations personally. “But what does it matter?”

Wen Ruohan’s smile broadened. “It matters quite a lot, as it happens. You see, I’ve decided that I want you to be my sons’ teacher.”

Lan Qiren blinked, surprised but not displeased. “We can make arrangements for them to stay at the Cloud Recesses during the summer months, then,” he said, then frowned when Wen Ruohan shook his head in the negative. “Summer is traditional for guest disciples, but if you have need of them during those months, I am certain an exception can be made. What season can you spare them best?”

“None at all, of course,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood. I don’t intend to send my boys to Gusu.”

“Then – how –”

“My dear Teacher Lan, don’t be obtuse! You will come here, instead.”

“You are the one being obtuse,” Lan Qiren said, his heart racing inexplicably. He stepped back, trying to get away from Wen Ruohan’s hands, but Wen Ruohan stepped forward at the same moment, keeping the distance between them – too close for his comfort already – the same, and now Lan Qiren was pressed back against a wall. “Sect Leader Wen, I taught your sons for a single afternoon as a means of passing the time. Even if I were to stay an additional week on top of the days I’ve already spent here for your party, which is already more time than I can spare, that would still not be enough time to implement an adequate course of education. Your sons require a full-time teacher for at least a season if you are to see any impact.”

Wen Ruohan nodded agreeably. “That makes sense.”

“Then you see, it is impossible –”

“I dislike having to repeat myself,” Wen Ruohan said, and his hands suddenly tightened, moving forward and pulling Lan Qiren towards him by the lapels until their faces were right next to each other. He was still smiling. “Allow me to make myself clear. You are going to be my boys’ teacher, and you are going to do it from here. That means that you, dear Teacher Lan, will be staying in my Nightless City for as long as it takes for their education to meet my satisfaction.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lan Qiren snapped. “I’m the Lan sect’s sect leader –”

“No,” Wen Ruohan said. “You are the acting sect leader.”

“What difference does it make?!”

Wen Ruohan laughed, sharp and not altogether sane.

“All the difference in the world, of course,” he said, and the smile on his face spread in a way that twisted his face like a vicious grimace. “Where there’s one substitute, there can be another. If you died, your brother would still be in seclusion – there must be someone waiting to take your place. And if that’s the case…tell me, Lan Qiren. Whatever price your sect elders decide to ask from me for you, do you really think my Wen sect can’t pay?”

Lan Qiren’s heart froze in his chest.

Wen Ruohan couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t mean to ask Lan Qiren’s sect to – to, what, sell him for benefits –

“Do you really think,” Wen Ruohan whispered, his voice flowing straight into Lan Qiren’s ear, “that your brother, the great Qingheng-jun, would refuse to ratify such an arrangement…?”

Lan Qiren’s brother had never liked him. And it was true, in fact, that he was only in seclusion, not dead – if necessary, the sect elders could go to him and petition that he override Lan Qiren’s decisions, the real sect leader always outweighing the acting one. That they didn’t, in the usual run of things, was simply the Lan sect respecting his seclusion, not the necessary state of affairs; if they got it in their minds to ask, he was perfectly capable of responding. If Wen Ruohan sweetened his offer enough, they might very well choose to go to him and accept the offer, and never mind what Lan Qiren wanted.

After all, if the sect decided something, it was his duty to accept and obey.

Lan Qiren gritted his teeth.

“You may be able to offer enough to my sect for them to wish to sell me to you, Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Qiren said, and hated that he even had to make the admission, wishing that he could believe even through willful self-deceit that Wen Ruohan’s mad scheme would never work when he knew that it could. “But that is insufficient. Talent itself cannot be forced. Bring me here against my will, and who is to say whether I will consent to teach? I could just as easily cut my own throat – and I would.”

Wen Ruohan stared at him, smile fading, and Lan Qiren glared back, trying to make clear exactly how serious he was being. He liked the Wen boys, in the same way he liked any of his students, prospective or otherwise, who were willing to learn. He liked them enough to try to teach them spontaneously, but that didn’t change what he would do – what he would have to do, because a bluff wouldn’t work on Wen Ruohan. He had to mean what he said, no matter how dire the threat, for it to work.

And it had to work. Back home he had his two nephews, Xichen and little Wangji, and if he were taken away from them, who would they have left to defend them? He Kexin had died, and Lan Wangji had only just barely started talking again after the enormity of that loss – Lan Xichen had taken it better, being older, but he, too, had suffered. If they were to lose Lan Qiren as well…

If his Lan sect sold him to Wen Ruohan, he couldn’t come back from that. He’d have lost all face forever, and the sect would have no need of him in the future, not even once Wen Ruohan tired of playing games with his life; if he slunk back to them after it was all done, it would be as an object of pity and nothing more. And while he was gone, the Lan sect elders left behind would grind his nephews down into the shapes they wanted them to be, leaving them nothing of their own. They would not think to leaven sternness with love, harshness with joy, and they would genuinely think they were doing them a favor in the process…and then the returning Lan Qiren would have to see what had been wrought in his absence.

No – if the choice were between death now and having to live to see something like that happen, helpless to stop it, he would rather use his blood to show the world the Great Sects’ hypocrisy.

“I see,” Wen Ruohan said, seeming to understand that Lan Qiren was sincere. “How interesting.”

For a moment, Lan Qiren thought that it had worked – that Wen Ruohan had been deterred, that he’d drop the matter, that he wouldn’t push them both to the end of no return. Lan Qiren was Lao Nie’s friend, and Wen Ruohan liked Lao Nie, at least most of the time, so surely even if he had no regard for Lan Qiren’s life in its own right, then perhaps for Lao Nie’s sake…?

And then Wen Ruohan’s insane smile returned in full force.

“Let no one say that I am not relentless,” he said, and he sounded actually cheerful, which was a tone Lan Qiren had never heard from him before. “You’re a far more interesting challenge than I thought, Teacher Lan. I see I will need to take particular care to make sure you don’t do anything rash before I settle matters to my satisfaction.”

Before Lan Qiren could even finish comprehending his words, Wen Ruohan’s hands had moved up from Lan Qiren’s lapels to his throat, pressing down and cutting off his air in a single gesture – Lan Qiren frantically tried to summon his qi, his fingers twitching for want of his sword or some musical instrument, his voice already gone, his vision starting to go black –

He felt more than saw the array activate behind his back.

Wen Ruohan was an array master the likes of which had already faded out of the cultivation world, and even among those ancient masters he was said to have been exceptional. Despite this, it was said to have been decades since he had bothered to actually use one himself where another living person could see – most of the time, he only commanded others to do the work for him. It was even rumored that once, when confronted by an entire army, he hadn’t bothered with an array at all, but rather merely used his extraordinary cultivation to twist his fingers and manipulate force itself, using spiritual energy to bend space and light to create a horrible sucking whirlwind that would rip apart all things before him from the inside out.

This array was at least not that.

Lan Qiren felt a pull, yanking him backwards, and then he was falling through the wall, stumbling into an empty room that had no doors or windows or even a single light.

“Just stay put for now, Teacher Lan, and don’t do anything unwise. Don’t your rules say ‘Don’t act impulsively’…?” Wen Ruohan’s voice echoed into the air around him. “I’ll be back to speak with you very soon…”

And then his voice was gone.

Lan Qiren traced a talisman for light into the air and looked around.

No doors or windows, as he’d suspected, but not completely empty: there was a bed, a desk, and the necessary area to relieve himself. There were also a few sets of manacles casually tossed around – some hanging on the wall, some on the bed – and scratches on the wall that upon a second look appeared to be words, presumably the scribblings of the room’s former occupant.

Lan Qiren did not see any way out.

“This,” he said to himself, wishing he hadn't so deeply ingrained his sect's custom against profanity, “is going to be a problem.”

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #wen chao #wen xu #my fic #my fics #relentless #Jane Eyre except you kidnap your governness #congrats to prompter for winning the longfic lottery #NOT a Tedious Joy extra #even though it started out that way #instead you get WRH at his most insane (pre Lao Nie's death) and LQR at his most grumpy #warnings for suicide threat and assault #long fic

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artzee-bee · 3 years

Text

You love me? | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer (Netflix)

Request: “ I was wondering if I could make a request where the reader is Lucifers best friend and can always cheer him up. One day (maybe after something with his brother happens) he is really upset and no one can communicate with him so the reader comes over worried sick. I thought that maybe they could have a moment after but that’s entirely up to you if you would like to write this! If you are uncomfortable or you just don’t want to write this let me know! “

Genre: a good chuck on angst but fluffy ending

Warings: nothing besides some arguing

A/N: This turned out very differently than what I was initially going for but I hope it’s somewhat good

~~~

You were more than aware of how everyone saw Lucifer: eccentric, sarcastic, over the top, at times an insufferable ass. You couldn't exactly disagree with any of those, but somehow you and the handsome gentleman got to be an inseparable duo.

You met him at Lux while out with your friends. His good looks caught the eye of mostly everyone inside the club, you included. He was attractive but you were stubborn. You weren't going to go out of your way just to talk to him, no way! Plus, you weren't exactly looking for a relationship or anything like that, so what was the point? You were only there for the drinks and the dancing, except you ended up being quite disappointed in the drinks department. The barman was slow and alcohol was a lot more expensive than you were anticipating.

You were waiting for your drink when he approached you. He was trying to get away from a girl that was freaking him out. He made a comment about being “so irresistible” and you replied with a joke about the crappy alcohol. One thing led to another and before you knew it, you had been chatting with him for hours!! Your friends had gotten sick of waiting around for you to be done with your new pal, and left early, not that you minded much. You knew they were probably under the impression that you were trying to get in bed with him and they were mostly excited about how well it was going for you, so they weren’t mad and you were enjoying yourself.

After that night, you and Lucifer became more or less inseparable. Almost every night was now spent either at Lux or in his penthouse, chatting and drinking liquor. Lucifer would visit you at work every now and then, when a case he was working on would get on his nerves. He would sometimes drag you to the station to “keep him company”. You were, in other words, his moral support.

This position came with a lot of wild adventures and incredible stories, but also with a lot of difficulties. Lucifer wasn’t the easiest to talk to when his emotions got the best of him. He had a tendency to shut down and avoid real life at all costs. You’ve been with him through that many times before and you were convinced that there was nothing he could do to shock you anymore.

Late in the evening, you got a call from Mazikeen. She was fuming and screaming over the phone about how Lucifer was in a mood and he went off on her for no reason and that you better get to him and figure it out because she was over it. You’ve received many phone calls like this, so you weren’t alarmed but as soon as you entered the penthouse and saw the mess that was covering every square inch of the place, you began to question your judgement.

“Lucifer?” you asked but he didn’t reply. You called out to him a couple more times, until you finally found him tightly tucked in bed.

“Luci?”

“Yeah…” his voice was muffled by the blanket and his eyes were shut

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing at all darling, I was just going to sleep”

“It’s 8 pm”

“Yeah, well, tough day at the station today. Not easy solving crime, you know?” “Oh really?” you questioned, to which Lucifer nodded slightly “Funny thing, I talked to Decker not too long ago actually. She hasn’t seen you all day.” Lucifer’s eyes stayed shut

“Don’t lie to me Lucifer” finally, you got his attention. He stood up with an exhausted sigh and rested against the bed frame

“What happened?”

“It’s just...Amenadiel…”

“What about him?”

“Always so curious, aren’t we Y/N?” he got up from the bed and headed towards the bar in the main area with you following close behind

“I’m trying to help you” “I don’t recall ever asking for it” his tone was harsh, but you’ve heard worse from him

“That never stopped me before”

“It never does any good either and yet here you are”

“Yes it does, you always tell me I’m a huge help” Lucifer frowned at your words, knowing full well you were right. He poured himself a drink, choosing to stay silent “I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s bothering you”

“It’s a fight between brothers, just like many others we’ve had before and we’ll keep on having for the rest of eternity probably”

“You’re really bothered by it”

“I am not!” his tone was firm. For just a second his eyes flashed red.

“It’s ok to feel upset”

“I am not upset!” he screamed, his face all of a sudden red and hot. His devil face. Blood red eyes piercing your soul, a threatening smile displayed his sharp, yellow teeth . You’ve seen this side of him before. You could say you were even somewhat accustomed to it, except you've never seen him do this. Use it as a weapon against you. To threaten you, to push you away. That, more than anything, was what scared you. You’ve seen him so angry at times and yet not once did he change out of rage. You stepped back, almost tripping and falling back in the bed but Lucifer reached out and caught your hand. He held it softly, as if you were made of sand. As if you would slip from his grip any second

“Y/N?” when you looked back up to him, his face was back to normal “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I mean, I didn’t realise I-”

“I’m just trying to be a good friend Lucifer”

“I know you are”

“I didn’t deserve that Lucifer” his eyes were full of sorrow and regret. You could see tears threatening to spill and you almost felt this man crumble in the palm of your hand. You pulled him into a tight hug and as soon as your arms went around his waist, Lucifer nuzzled his face in your hair and began to sob

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I didn’t mean to do that…”

“It’s ok Luci”

“You didn’t deserve that”

“Yes but you’ve apologised, I forgive you. Everything is ok” Lucifer pulled away slightly, just enough so he could look into your eyes without leaving your embrace. His face was red and stained with tears.

“How do you do that? How can you always forgive so easily?” he asked as you wiped away some of the tears with the sleeve of your shirt

“Well, with you it’s quite easy. I care too much about you to stay mad.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t believe you “Plus, I know you. You are kind and caring and would never do anything to hurt me. You have a hard time managing your anger sometimes, sure, but you are working to improve.” You cupped his face with your left hand and Lucifer immediately leaned into your touch

“I’m doing my best.” he said

“And I’ll be here for you. No matter how much you dislike it sometimes!” you giggled, but than Lucifer whispered something in your palm

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Luci.”

“No, I love you Y/N” he took a step back as he said that, the closeness between you two suddenly too much to bear. You looked at him with glossy eyes, scanning his features as if you weren’t sure you heard him right and each look made Lucifer want to crawl back into the pits of hell because he was not worthy of you and he knew that.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t the right moment, I should have just-”

“Lucifer” your voice was warm and welcoming which only made the devil feel worse. You were trying to reject him nicely, he just knew it!

“Yes?”

“You love me?” when he didn’t reply, you took a step closer, asking him again “Are you in love with me Lucifer?”

“Yes” he was crumbling once again under you. He was the devil and he’s known no weakness but somehow, someway, you managed to bring him to his knees with a single glance and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Did I get the devil to fall in love with me?”

“Perhaps..” you looked him in the eyes. You were once again standing close to him and Lucifer felt weak

“Good” you said, before grabbing onto the collar of his shirt and placing your lips on his, kissing him hard. Lucifer didn’t realise at first what you did, boldness wasn’t exactly your thing, but then, almost naturally, his arms went around your waist, pulling you into him. He felt his worries and tears fade away with every second that he felt your lips on his. He swore in that moment that no matter what, he would never ever push you away again. You were way too important!

#lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar angst #lucifer morningstar fluff

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bbangsoonie · 3 years

Text

good for nothing

member: juyeon genre: angst (royal au) word count: 4,635 synopsis: despite being the first born and the kingdom’s princess, you lived your whole life in the shadow of the crown prince born to a concubine. in your plot for revenge, a fool in love comes along your path. warning(s): violence

kingdom masterlist

Princess Y/n. You were the first born of the king and queen, educated beyond societal standards for girls, and incredibly beautiful. Yet, you were disregarded and looked down on since the moment you were born. Your brother, who was born to a concubine, was the crown prince and received much greater respect. The reason? You were a girl. A good-for-nothing girl as your father called you on multiple occasions.

The king was ashamed to have his first born be a daughter. He also felt threatened by your rejection of the status quo. Because of this, he grabbed every opportunity to make you submit to him.

You were exceptionally smart but no one cared to notice. Your desire to learn was ignored and you were forced to embroider butterfly patterns instead. At a young age, you realized your place. You knew your designated fate was to be a political pawn meant to be married off at a beautiful age. To protect the royal family that never considered you as one of their own, you were to marry a complete stranger one day.

However, just because you realized your place didn’t mean you accepted it. You defied the rules at every chance you saw. You remained a headache for the king, but a small enough headache to avoid his wrath.

Unbeknownst to him, you were well versed with the dirty politics of the country. Ever since you were a little girl, you would eavesdrop into the ministers’ conversations and manipulate the eunuchs to take a peak at written grievances sent to the king. You knew about the starving peasants he ignored and the bribes he received. As you grew older, you became hungry for power. When it became apparent that the king was blocking any hope for you, you were determined to take as many people down with you. You refused to suffer alone.

The king always berated you for being greedy. Greedy for education. Greedy for acknowledgement. Greedy for a life that was more than just being a good wife. He reminded you again and again that you would never have a voice in official affairs.

Every time you left his chamber after another lecture, you made sure to humiliate the embarrassment the kingdom called the crown prince. You would outshine him one way or another. Whether it be pointing out his grammar mistakes in front of the scholars or exposing his secret palace escapes to the queen, you would dampen his mood for the day. It was the only thing that gave you a speck of joy.

There was also only one thing that gave you something to look forward to. For years, you had been conspiring against the royal family. You despised the royal family and its classist, sexist, and pretentious values. You planned on getting rid of it once and for all. The kingdom deserved a leader that would rule benevolently. Slowly but surely, you gained the loyalty of several ministers. Soon enough, you would be able to execute the meticulous coup d'état.

But until then, you had to continue to be nothing but the king’s puppet. Which included meeting your fiancé. You were introduced a week ago and wedding preparations were already in full swing.

The man you would be forced to wed, Lee Juyeon, was the first son of the Chief State Councillor. You didn’t like him the moment you saw him. He was a pretty face that grew up with his father’s full love and support. He was both elegant and masculine; he was the definition of perfect and you hated it. A person had to have flaws to be likeable.

For some crazy reason you couldn’t wrap your mind around, Juyeon was infatuated with you. He visited the palace every day just to have you decline his request for a meeting. He was persistent.

Unfortunately for you, he was also crafty. He figured out that announcing his arrival to the king was an effective way to see your face. The king was delighted to see the Chief State Councillor’s son head over heels for his daughter and thus, to your annoyance, daily meetings were arranged for you two.

“Tell me, Lord Lee, what about me is worthy of your obsession?” you asked.

You were sitting at one of the gardens within the palace walls. He had insisted on the location because of its romantic beauty.

“Then tell me, Your Highness, what about me is not to your liking?” he grinned.

“Do you wish to hear the answer of the princess or the answer of Y/n?” you raised a brow, making him laugh.

“You amuse me, Princess Y/n,” he turned his head to look at the pond.

You sighed, wondering how long you had until you could return to your residence. The man next to you was oblivious to your feelings as he rambled on about the dates he wanted to take you on. He caught your attention when he mentioned sneaking you out of the palace for half a day.

“You would really risk taking me outside of the palace?” you perked up.

He was excited to see you finally engaged in the conversation and nodded profusely. He promised to set up an elaborate plan for a smooth date. Grudgingly, you accepted his offer. Your wish to see the village overwhelmed your wish to avoid your soon-to-be consort.

The next day, a court lady secretly found you to notify you of his plans. To evade the eyes of palace maids, you were to escape through a path not commonly used. She helped you scale the wall and you froze when you saw Juyeon on the other side. You sat on top of the wall and he extended his hand for support. With a tight smile, you held his hand and jumped down.

He pulled the veil over your face to keep your identity hidden, blushing when his hand slightly brushed your cheek. He hopped onto the horse and gestured for you to do the same. Hesitantly, you held his hand again to climb on.

Using the excuse of maintaining balance, he urged you to hold on tightly. You weren’t left with an option when he sped up, prompting you to instinctively hug his waist. You didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smiling like a fool.

At last, you finally arrived at the village. Fascinated at the change in environment, you looked like a child surrounded by toys. Chuckling, Juyeon admired the view in front of him. In his eyes, you were prettier than any flower and sweeter than any candy. Feeling his gaze on you, you cleared your throat and began walking.

There was so much to look at. He caught you staring at the rows of yeot and purchased the confectionery without you asking. You immediately popped one into your mouth and he laughed when your cheeks expanded to resemble a squirrel.

“Are you teasing me?” you frowned.

“No, I am appreciating your adorable and lovely appearance,” he answered as he handed you the bag holding the rest of the yeot. His words didn’t fluster you. You simply rolled your eyes and resumed walking.

His long legs were quick to catch up with you. Enjoying your presence, he watched as you fawned over little trinkets. It was a new side of you that he had never seen.

Stopping at an accessory shop, you scanned the norigaes displayed on the table. One of them caught your eye and you held it up for a closer look. It was a beautiful pale pink color that perfectly matched your current hanbok.

“It seems a norigae is better at capturing your heart than I am,” Juyeon pouted.

“Perhaps it is prettier than you,” you shrugged.

“Is this an implication that I am pretty? To a certain extent?” he beamed.

“How do my words become that?” you exclaimed.

With another laugh, he took the accessory from your grasp and went to pay for it. You blinked at the sudden sight of his back, noticing for the first time how broad his shoulders were. When he came back to your side, he held the norigae in front of you but pulled it back when you reached out for it. He pointed at the bag of yeot and opened his mouth. Baffled, you turned around to walk away.

He caught your wrist and spun you back around. He bent down and your face stopped an inch away from his. His usual shy self was gone and he had a confident smirk on his lips.

“Does your heart not sway even at a close distance like this?” he asked. This time, he caught you off guard. When you finally came back to your senses, you hurriedly shoved a piece of yeot into his mouth and stormed off.

“Y/n, you make me laugh too hard and too much!” you heard his voice call out, making you blush crimson with embarrassment.

With your upcoming wedding looming over your head, it became increasingly difficult to communicate with the ministers. There were too many eyes to be wary of. Juyeon, of course, was one of them.

As you spent more time with him, you realized how sentimental he was. He brought you small, meaningful gifts and loved to tell you about the meanings behind each flower.

“Did you know that the plum blossom is one of the indications of spring's arrival?” he asked one day. “They can bloom as early as late March.”

“I think it is quite obvious that it is spring,” you commented, pointing at the variety of flowers surrounding you.

“My personal favorite flower is the rose of sharon,” he continued. “It is nicknamed the “immortal flower” and means “eternal blossom that never fades” because of its resilience. It regrows despite harsh conditions and even after it is damaged. Amazing, isn’t it?”

You hummed, looking for the flower he was talking about.

“I used to hope that our kingdom would take after the flower. We have survived through many tragedies and I hope that we will survive through anything else that tries to beat us down,” his words pricked you for some reason. Would your rebellion be seen as a tragedy or as a heroic deed?

“Now, I like to think that our love will be like the rose of sharon. My love for you will never fade and I will continue to pine after you despite your harsh words. Even if you hurt me, my feelings will transcend time,” he smiled. “The flower does not bloom until July. My wish is to go see them with you. Would you bless me with your presence when the time comes?”

You observed his lovestruck expression and couldn’t bring yourself to say no. Again, you were at a loss trying to understand why he was so besotted with you. His childlike innocence was almost pure to a fault in a place like the palace.

“I shall consider it if you teach me how to swing a sword,” you proposed.

He couldn’t hide both his shock and happiness. He was confused as to why you wanted to ever hold a weapon but glad that you were slowly opening up to him. Without a second thought, he agreed to your proposition.

Juyeon was full of bliss at the thought of spending more time with you. Teaching you swordsmanship would allow him to be intimate with you and he was thrilled. At your first secret lesson, his heart raced at your proximity as he guided your hands on how to properly wield the blade.

A week passed by and you quickly improved each day. Eventually, you became skilled enough to land a fake jab. Seeing your proud smile, he grinned as well.

“I guess I should be on edge now. If I annoy my princess one too many times, my life will literally be at your hands,” he joked.

“Do you regret training me?” you smirked.

“Ah, was this all a part of your plan?” he pretended to gasp. “Either to kill me off or to threaten me to obedience?”

Not finding his joke funny, you blankly stared at him. Noticing the sudden chill in the atmosphere, he awkwardly laughed.

“Do not worry, Your Highness. I will always do as you say. You do not need a sword to make me behave.” he smiled.

You hated to admit it but he had grown on you. His constant attempts to tear down your wall had finally made a crack. You had to stop before he became your weakness.

For the first time in a while, you were summoned to the king’s chamber. Expecting another reprimand, you dreaded the walk there. To your surprise, however, you were greeted with a smile he hadn’t given you in years. It kind of freaked you out.

“You called for me, Your Majesty?” you bowed.

“I hear you have been getting along wonderfully with the Chief State Councillor’s son. Finally, you are fulfilling your duty as this kingdom’s princess,” he commended.

What a back-handed compliment. You wanted to roll your eyes at his passive aggressiveness. Holding back your urges, you politely smiled instead.

“I just wanted to let you know that I will be in a hurry to complete your wedding. I need the Chief State Councillor’s support to find a suitable wife for the crown prince,” he announced.

“Is my marriage merely a way for the crown prince to find a wife with a powerful family?” you shot back.

Your question turned the mood scarily sour. You felt his anger rise as he chastised you for your impudence and disrespect.

“The crown prince is the future leader of our kingdom. He is more than deserving of the immense care, thought, and effort that goes into picking his consort. His consort will be this kingdom’s queen and will be the one to bear the next king. You are nothing but a useless girl who will belong to a different family.”

“I am still a member of the royal family, am I not?”

“You are just a good-for-nothing girl that will leave this palace soon,” he spat. “Now leave. You are dismissed.”

On your way out, you ran into the crown prince who looked at you in a way you found to be offensive. You paused your steps and turned around.

“I wish you fertility, Crown Prince. After all, the kingdom relies on your performance to produce an heir to the throne,” you said, lacing your words with venom. “I would imagine you would hate having to adopt a nephew.”

You could tell you had gotten under his skin yet again and left satisfied. You loathed and condemned your family with a burning passion. You couldn’t wait for the day it would all come to a bitter end.

While you were brooding, you didn’t notice Juyeon sneaking up on you. When you finally saw him, you nearly jumped. Your hand reached out to cover your heart, trying to calm it down. Sheepishly, he apologized for startling you.

Trying to keep you from walking away from him, he held onto the hem of your sleeve. Your heart softened at the gentle manner he treated you with. Ignoring your instincts, you let him cling onto you. Instead of making you turn around to face him, he walked in front of you.

“Will you accompany me to the garden today as well?” he asked earnestly.

Knowing that the court ladies were watching, you reluctantly accepted his invitation once again. This time, he surprised you with a bag filled with yeot. He looked so proud of himself for remembering your love for the sweet treat that it made you laugh. As a reward, he grabbed a piece for himself. Unaware of the smudge it left on the corner of his lips, he was conscious of your gaze and tried to look attractive.

“Worry not, Your Highness. You will get to look at this face every day and every night once we marry,” he assured.

Despite his wise exterior, he had a goofy side to him. He was pure and innocent—everything you weren’t. You could see why the king favored him so much.

“I do not understand why you are so eager to become my consort,” you suddenly blurted. “You know that it is just a flashy title that does not award you with much privileges. It is an empty position; you cannot hold office without a special order from the king. Do you simply see yourself as a stepping stone for your father to bring honor to your family?”

“Is my love for you an acceptable response?” he asked after some thought.

“Is it truly worth your dangerous status as the princess’s husband and king’s son-in-law? The royal family has many enemies,” you warned.

“I will be the one to protect you from such enemies,” he declared.

Was he naive or has his affection for you blinded him?

“Princess Y/n,” he said solemnly as he held your hand. “I promise to love and protect you for as long as my heart beats. No, even after it ceases to beat, I will still yearn for you. I will not demand or expect you to do the same. Even if your feelings for me are not as strong as my feelings for you, I will not blame you. But will you please give me the chance to try to win you over?”

His confession triggered an alarm in your head. He was never supposed to fall for you this hard and you were never supposed to allow him to. He had no idea how cunning and conniving you really were. Only the people in the palace knew how cold-hearted you could be. You had to be in order to survive.

You refused to give him a reply and pulled your hand away. His face fell but he forced himself to smile again. In an attempt to break the tension, he made a random comment on the weather.

After you two parted, you decided to speed things up to initiate the revolt. Once you joined hands in marriage, Juyeon would inevitably end up a target as well. If you wanted to spare him, you needed to overthrow the corrupted royal family before he became a part of it.

It was officially the day before the insurrection. To be honest, you weren’t really nervous. This was what you had been anticipating your entire life.

Yet why did you have a moment of weakness when you saw Juyeon that afternoon? He approached you with that boyish smile that did wonders to your normally rational mind. Feeling what you believed was pity, you wanted to leave him with a pleasant memory.

So you ended up convincing him to sneak you out of the palace again. This time, you were a lot more enthusiastic. You wanted to try all the pastries and insisted that he taste them too.

“You seemed to have a lot on your mind these days,” he carefully pointed out. “Has the problem that has been bothering you been resolved now?”

“It will soon,” you eluded.

You stared at the man in front of you, observing his features. He was, without a doubt, good looking. You could see why all the court ladies, palace maids, and girls of the village were so smitten with him. But you still didn’t get why he chose you to fawn over. Maybe it was because of the lack of affection you grew up with but something about having someone care for you was unsettling.

You had suitors court you before but none of them were as devoted as Juyeon. He always came off as genuine. Perhaps his sincerity was what made you lower your guard.

“I promise to lavish you with such outings if that is what makes you happy,” he proclaimed, almost making you laugh.

“Why do you make so many vows?” you inquired.

“I am a man who keeps his word and you are the only one I give it to,” he grinned. You wondered how happy he had to be to smile so often. You rarely had reasons to be smiling.

He glanced down at the table and examined the rows of binyeos. Holding one up, he held the hair pin against your hair.

“May I gift you this binyeo?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, feeling just a tad bit of guilt. You were used to being showered with extravagance but with Juyeon, it was different. There was an emotional value attached to each present.

“Only if you promise me one other thing,” you negotiated.

“Of course. I will do anything you ask of me,” he responded.

“Promise me that you will not visit the palace tomorrow,” you said sternly. He looked at you with curiosity.

“Tomorrow is… a day of mourning for me. I do not wish to see you until the day after,” you lied.

“This is the first time you have expressed your desire to see me,” he lit up at your last sentence. “I will prepare a magnificent date for when I see you over-morrow.”

You almost felt sorry for his naiveté. And you almost—just almost—felt sorry for deceiving him.

The fateful day arrived at last. You stood, taking one last glimpse at your reflection. Subconsciously, your hand reached out to touch the binyeo in your hair.

The roars of the royal guards and the clanks of combat rumbled throughout the palace. With a determined look, you left your chamber. The sword in your clenched fist dragged across the ground as you made your way to the throne hall.

When you finally busted through the door, the king sat as if he had been waiting for you.

“I should have known that this was your doing,” he scowled. “Was your luxurious life as a princess not enough for you? Could you not fight the temptation of avarice?”

“Nothing about my life was ever comfortable,” you corrected. “I always had to play along to match your mood in order to avoid being married off to an old man just out of your spite. You tried to drill your toxic mentality in me because my individuality terrified you. You made it a point to constantly tear me down. So I made it a point to see your demise.”

“You have always been this sly ever since you were a little girl. I knew I would regret your birth the moment I saw your eyes. And I was right. You are nothing but a vile bitch.”

“For the longest time, I thought I was deserving of your hatred. But I came to the realization that you simply belittled me just for being a girl. Do not forget, Your Majesty, that the womb inside me is the same as the one that bore you the crown prince.”

Mockingly, you approached the throne. It was incredible how that one seat gave its owner immense power.

“Speaking of which, why is it that only men carry on the family name?” you questioned. “Do you not realize that women are the ones who carry on the precious bloodline you always speak of? It is the body of women that conceive and grow another human inside them. It is the body of women that suffer through labor to deliver you children and nurture them to good health. The only thing you do is spread your seeds like a fruit. And then blame women for your own infertility.”

“All throughout history, it has been men who carried on the royal bloodline. What makes you think that you are worthy of special treatment?”

“Bloodline, bloodline, bloodline,” you rolled your eyes in irritation. “Do not fool yourself. It is not blood you care about but name. Men may carry on the nameline but we are the ones who give you the royal blood pumping in your veins.”

You sloppily lifted the sword to the king’s neck, smirking.

“I knew you would be the one to bring my downfall,” he glared.

“Well, how does it feel to have all your fears come true, my king?” you taunted. “You were always afraid that I would either surpass you or ruin you. Now, I will be the one to end this damned bloodline. This good-for-nothing girl will take back the royal blood that was given to you by a woman.”

With that, you slashed his neck. Blood splattered across the wall and on your face. You grimaced, wiping away the warm liquid. You were surprisingly calm in front of such a gruesome sight. That was, until Juyeon came bursting through the door.

After he had parted from you the day before, he could not get you out of his mind. Something about your eyes had been melancholic. Your words sounded like a foreshadow and it left him feeling disturbed. So he broke his promise and went to the palace to see you again. He was alarmed to see the chaos ensuing and immediately searched for you. However, he never expected the situation he stumbled into.

“P-Princess Y/n,” he stuttered, making you aim the weapon at yourself. You never intended or wanted him to witness this.

“Do not come any closer,” you warned.

“Your Highness, please. Put the sword down,” he begged.

“I cannot,” you gulped. “This is how it must end.”

“We-we can run away. Together. We can leave everything behind and I will keep you safe,” he said as he tried his best to stay calm.

You wanted to both laugh and cry. Your life was a suicidal mission. You knew from the beginning that you would not be able to survive. If you failed, you would be executed for treason. If you succeeded, you would be executed to officially end the royal bloodline.

You had to admit, you slightly wavered at one point. Juyeon’s promise to make you happy was enticing. To someone who never strayed close to emotions before, he was like a miracle. He made you feel all sorts of things that you were glad to have experienced.

“I apologize, Lord Lee,” you sadly smiled before you stabbed the blade into your stomach.

“No!” he screamed as he ran to your side.

You slowly fell to the ground with Juyeon’s arms wrapped around your body. His hands shook above the wound as he cried, knowing that he couldn’t take it out without ensuring your death. He never thought that what he taught you would be used against yourself. If he had known that this was what you planned on using your skills for, he never would have taken your offer.

“I am afraid I will not be able to go see the rose of sharons with you,” you said as a tear escaped your eyes.

Your vision began to cloud and you felt the life in you leave with every breath you took. You didn’t even realize that your hand was gripping his clothes, crinkling it. Another tear rolled down your cheek as your head fell back, your neck unable to support it any longer.

He desperately clung onto you, holding your head in his bloodied hands.

“I will bring the flowers to you,” he affirmed.

“Another promise,” you chuckled.

“This one I will be sure to keep,” he stated as his own tears fell to your face.

Next to the weapon embedded in you was the norigae he bought you the first time you escaped the palace together. He looked up to see that you were wearing the binyeo he bought you as well. He sobbed, holding onto you tighter.

“I hope to be reborn as a rose of sharon. That way, I can come see you every spring,” you whispered before you closed your eyes for the last time.

tag list: @dearseungie @cuppasunu @reverienostalgia @elcie-chxn @parfaitz @lovelyutas @mochinyu @leejaeyeons

#deobiwritersnet #the boyz #tbz #juyeon #the boyz angst #tbz angst #juyeon angst #the boyz fics #tbz fics #juyeon fics #the boyz imagines #tbz imagines #juyeon imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #juyeon scenarios #lee juyeon #the boyz juyeon #tbz juyeon

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kavat · 3 years

Text

The Golden Family “Our Freja is a miracle”

From newspaper Barometern February 1st 2021

Cornelia Dahlgren and Martyn Lester, London, had a daughter named Freja on December 1st. Weight 3410 g, length 50 cm. Cornelia grew up on Öland.

Musician, actor and artist.

The Öland "Idol" participant has finally got her dream role, she has become a mother.

- Our Freja is a miracle, says Cornelia Dahlgren.

LONDON / ÖLAND

How is Freja?

- She is fine. The labor started a little too early, she was scheduled for December 11 but the labour started on November 30. At the hospital, it turned out that she was not positioned quite right. After a day and a half in hospital, we had to make a decision about a caesarean section. When she came out she was very quiet but now we know that she has fully developed lung capacity, haha!

Describe her, how is she as a person?

- Very stubborn and very happy. She is direct and straightforward. Though probably all babies are. But it's never hard to understand what she wants. She has started to smile now and we can see what she's in the mood for.

Freja is your first child, what is it like to become a parent?

- Wonderful. It has been such a long journey with miscarriages and anxiety and then a pandemic on top. Our Freja is a miracle.

That sounds tough, do you want to tell me?

- Yes, I have realized that it is important to talk about miscarriage. For our part, there were several factors that came into play. After several miscarriages and examinations, we received help with IVF. At the end of 2019, the treatment started with injections and medicines, it was a struggle. At the beginning of last year, the actual in vitro fertilization was performed. But it didn’t work out. We had a new time booked when covid struck. It was cancelled and we were not allowed to make any more attempts. It was hard and we were very, very sad.

Hm. But now you have Freja, how did that happen?

- We tried in a natural way and Freja came into being. She really is our miracle baby, in just about every way. But there was a lot of anxiety during the pregnancy. Martyn was only allowed to attend one ultrasound, on the other occasions he had to wait outside on the sidewalk due to covid. But we have received incredibly good support from doctors and midwives, the National Health Service, NHS, has been there for us and we are very grateful.

Did you know it was going to be a girl?

- Yes, but we decided to keep it private. Early in the pregnancy, we did a harmony test, a blood test where you look for the baby's DNA in the mother's blood to see if everything looked good. It did and we were told at the same time that it was a girl.

Was it easy to come up with the name?

- We actually had time to talk about boy names before we got to know the gender and the name that was at the top of the top list was Leif. My dad's name is Leif and we were into Nordic mythology and history and also thought of Leif Eriksson. We came to Freja when Martyn said that he liked the name Gaia, the goddess of the earth and fertility in Greek mythology. We have no biological or historical roots in that mythology, but the idea was nice and then I thought of Freja of Nordic mythology. Freja represents love and fertility for us and when she was born the name was so right.

Does she have any more names?

- Yes, she has a lot of names, haha! Her name is Freja Dorothy Gunnel Dahlgren Lester. Dorothy is after Martyn's grandmother who he has always described as a fantastic person, and Gunnel is after my grandmother. Neither Dorothy nor Gunnel are alive anymore, but it felt natural to choose their name. The funny thing is that Freja has the same hair color as my grandmother and me.

What about baptism?

- The idea is, depending on how everything develops with the pandemic, that we will be able to have baptism on Öland in July. I have been on Öland every summer since I was four years old and when I was ten we moved there, I see Öland as my home.

Is Freja a British citizen?

- We are applying for a British passport and later we will apply for a Swedish passport. We might try to see if she can have dual citizenship later on. The plan is also for her to become bilingual so that she can speak to all Swedish and English relatives and therefore I only speak Swedish with her.

If you search for Cornelia Dahlgren in Barometern-OT's archive, you get lots of hits, you have been in the band Popshop and ”Idol” in 2004, you have been on the stage of Dramaten and everything. How did you end up in London?

- I was at Red Bull Music Academy's bootcamp in Barcelona in 2008 and got to know some British musicians who invited me to London. I thought I would try to live there for a year and well, I met Martyn through the music, we started talking and got to know each other. Although it took me a while to get that he was interested in that way, haha!

How does it work with parental leave in the UK?

- Not so great. You have two months with full pay, then it drops significantly. And if you look further ahead, when it's time for childcare, well then it's tempting to move back to Sweden. But Martyn is self-employed and would have a hard time moving. In London, it is difficult to get a preschool place, the prices are so high, it is cheaper with daycare. Then you can have a nanny but it is not for people with regular incomes.

What do you do?

- I started as an event manager in my partner's company, IRL Digital Ltd, and am now a brand manager and work with marketing, entertainment and merchandise that is not just fast fashion.

What do you miss from Sweden?

- It’s been over ten years since I lived in Sweden but I miss the cleanliness, nature and the right of public access. I also miss the good tap water. And my family of course, my sister and her family in Stockholm and my mother and her husband, and my father and his wife who all live on Öland.

What are you looking forward to?

- Oh, that's so much! I look forward to playing and singing with Freja, that she will share Martyn's interest in skateboarding. But, and this sounds so cheesy, that little piece that was missing in my life has finally fallen into place. Becoming a parent means not prioritizing yourself first. I look forward to meeting myself as Freja's mother. Of course I want to see Freja grow up and get to know her, but I have not allowed or dared to think of myself as a mother and I look forward to meeting myself.

Anna Mi Matzén

#whatever cat #cornelia dahlgren #martyn lester #baby freja

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sylvies-chen · 3 years

Text

Suggestions - Melendaire

(AO3 link)

// Neil accidentally lets something slip on a drowsy Sunday morning in bed with his girlfriend. Claire, naturally, panics. //

Word count: 2384

Neil Melendez wakes up with Claire Browne in his arms just about every morning.

The feeling still hasn’t gotten old.

Their one-year anniversary is coming around the corner. Just under two weeks away, the surgeon realizes when he does the math in his head. And even after all this time, the feeling of waking up with her head on his shoulder and tucked under his arm has never lost its luster. The rush of excitement and pure affection still rushes through his veins all the same. He’s still groggy as that dawns on him, barely awake enough to move away from the blinding sunlight coming in from the bedroom window. All he does is squint and tilt his head the other way, right into Claire’s brown curls. Getting a face full of hair should bother him, but he’s used to it by now— it only makes him smile.

They don’t need to get up right away today. It’s one of their few days off, which means they’ll spend most of the morning the way they usually do when they get a day off: sleeping in for a while, going a few rounds if they’re in the mood, and then making pancakes for breakfast. It’s a nice routine they’ve gotten into over the past year, one that’s made Neil dread work the next day. He just likes spending time with her too much; likes getting lost in her and her soft brown eyes.

Suddenly, he feels her stirring in his arms and she opens her eyes, waking up slowly with a tired moan. “What time is it?”

“Early,” he replies, sitting up in the bed leaning against the backboard.

“Ugh, I hate early. I want to kill early,” Claire groans. “Do we have to get up?”

“No. It’s our day off, we can sleep in. No surgeries, no difficult patients, no paperwork. None of it.”

“Good,” Claire sighs contentedly, pressing a lazy kiss to his cheek and sitting up to snuggle into him. “I like staying here with you.”

“I like it too,” he admits, smiling. “Hey, what do you say we go running this afternoon?”

“Yeah? You think we’ll be fully awake by then?”

“Definitely,” he affirms. “We can sleep in and then go after lunch. And the only thing I love more than you and my work is beating you at the track.”

“Oh, really funny, Neil,” she quips sarcastically, giggling. “If you win, it’s because you cheat!”

“I prefer to call it being creative,” he protests. “Besides, you’re the one who keeps falling for the old ‘fake an injury’ trick. I’ve done it a hundred times now and you fall for it every time.”

“Well excuse me for trying to be a good girlfriend,” she mumbles teasingly, accepting defeat.

“Don’t worry though, sweetheart. When I beat you this afternoon, it’ll be fair and square,” he comforts teasingly, pressing a kiss to her head. They normally spend their mornings like this too— exchanging quick kisses.

“You’re unbelievable,” Claire giggles. “Always so—“

“Arrogant?” He guesses the end of her sentence, because it’s one of the first things she’d called him when she came to St. Bonaventure’s.

“Self-assured,” she corrects him. “But if you want to say arrogant then I won’t argue with that.” She gives him a teasing smirk, which sends them both into a fit of laughter.

“I want to marry you,” he lets out as he chuckles, before he can really think about it.

Oh crap. Something he hadn’t even expected to say, something lingering underneath the surface of his mind, just slipped out.

Oh crap. Claire’s staring at him with eyes like a deer in headlights.

Oh crap. What the hell did he just say?

It’s not like he doesn’t want to marry her. He definitely does. They’ve been dating for quite some time now, ever since that close call during the earthquake nearly a year ago. But they’d both agreed to take things slowly, especially since it had taken everyone at work a little while to adjust to the idea of him and Claire in a relationship. Dr. Melendez and Dr. Browne, secret lovers. It wasn’t exactly a smooth transition, but they’d weathered it together. He loves her and she loves him, that’s all that ever really mattered. Now, they’ve built this life together— a routine of date nights and tender kisses. He’s never felt happier, and his love for her has only grown stronger with time.

So yeah, the thought of marrying her has crossed his mind more than once. Although apparently, it’s crossed his mind more frequently than he’d thought because here he is, blurting out a proposal while tangled up in bed with his girlfriend on a Sunday morning.

“What?” Claire gets out of bed and stands up, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest. Suddenly, through Neil’s fault and his fault alone, she’s wide awake and alert.

Neil winces, his nose scrunching up into his eyes. “Nothing. I mean, I didn’t— that’s not...”

“Oh my god,” she lets out, quiet and stunned as she gets up out of the bed and takes the sheet with her, keeping it wrapped around her body. “You just asked me to marry you?!”

“No no no,” he replies frantically, reaching to grab his boxers and yanking them on before standing up to face her. The bed separates them, but her eyes are wild and piercing with shock. He knows he’s just done something monumentally stupid. “That wasn’t a proposal, I swear.”

“Then what the hell was that?”

“It was...” he pauses to rack his brain for something to say to get him out of the corner he’s backed himself into, and he only lands on one thing. “... a suggestion,” he finishes with a shrug.

“A suggestion?” She looks at him skeptically, her arms crossed in front of her.

“Yes,” he confirms hesitantly.

“Ok, that’s it,” she nods curtly. “you’re insane. This— this is insane!”

“Look, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “It was a nice moment, I was happy and still half asleep, and- and it just slipped out. Like it or not, I said it. But if you want to go back and pretend like it didn’t happen then fine, we can do that.”

“Well we can’t go back now, Neil,” she huffs. “I can’t go on pretending you didn’t just say that. I mean— god, I can still hear it in my head even now! We need to talk about it.”

“Ok,” he sighs— a little defeatedly, since he has a gut feeling that this conversation isn’t going anywhere he likes (and his gut has never steered him wrong, being a surgeon has taught him that much). “The floor’s open for discussion, Browne. How do you want to go about this?”

He tries to be as clinical as possible he waits for a response. This whole situation is a little embarrassing, really. In the small amount of time since they’ve woken up in each other’s arms, Neil’s somehow managed to blurt out a proposal to his girlfriend of less than a year and has nearly ruined everything. They’re both standing on opposite sides of the bed, in nothing but their underwear, and Neil swears the tension is thick enough to choke them to death. He can picture his colleagues attempting some hypothetical surgery, can picture calling the time of death of their relationship and marking the cause of death off as asphyxiation on some intangible substance. It’s funny, in some weird and twisted way. He’s beating himself up over where this conversation is heading, but at least Glassman would get a kick out of it.

But then, by some miracle, it doesn’t head that way at all.

Claire exhales quietly, deep in thought. Melendez can see her muscles relaxing, the tension leaving from her shoulders as she sits back down on the bed. She leans in a little, staring shyly at her fingers sunken into the bedsheets. “Well, for starters... I think you should ask me again.”

“What?” His brows furrow as a small smile creeps onto his face. Neil sits down across from her on the bed, delightfully stunned. “Are you being serious?”

“I am,” she replies calmly. Her tone is a hell of a lot calmer than Neil feels right now. He can practically feel the excitement rushing through his veins.

Is she saying what he thinks she’s saying?

Neil hasn’t expected this conversation to come for a long time. They grew into each other’s love in time, but it doesn’t erase the scars they have. Claire’s pain and trauma is actually what made her so scared to admit she loved him in the first place. It’d taken him being on the brink of death for her to admit her feelings. Now, they’ve finally grown more comfortable with their feelings but Neil still knows that taking it slow is the right move. It’s why he was so surprised when that proposal slipped off his tongue. Proposing after nearly a year of dating isn’t exactly moving at a slow pace. He supposes his feelings for her— the overwhelming urge to marry her— overcame all the voices of reason telling him to take it easy for fear of scaring her off.

Now though? Now it’s a whole different story.

He stays quiet for a second too long and the small smile on her face fades, bringing in a nervous glance instead. “I mean, only if you want to ask me,” she adds awkwardly after a moment.

“God yes I do,” he assures her. It sparks a small giggle from Claire, her eyes now sparkling and glossy with what Melendez thinks are tears of joy. “I just... I figured you might want it to be a bit different from this. I don’t even have a ring.”

“Well you know me, I’ve always hated romantics,” she dismisses with a watery chuckle.

He laughs in return and smiles until his cheeks hurt. The space between them on the bed slowly closes as Neil inches forward, dragging the sheets with him and taking her hands in his. “You... you are the single best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he starts. The awe in his own voice surprises him a little, but it’s not unexpected. Spend enough time around Dr. Browne and you’ll get used to incredible. That’s what he’d said around a year ago, and it still rings true now. He’s also said being around her makes him a better surgeon and person, which is also very true. She just makes him better, in everything he does. “I love you more than I thought was possible. So, Dr. Browne...” Claire lets out another watery laugh but her hands start to shake in his, so Neil holds them tighter. “... Will you marry me?”

There’s a moment where everything is quieter than silence. Neil starts hearing ringing in his ears, a throbbing sensation that this could go very wrong. Or, as he suspects (and hopes), it could go very very right. And he knows this is weird— that not-so accidentally proposing to your girlfriend while half-naked on a Sunday morning isn’t exactly the traditional way to ask someone to spend the rest of their life with you— but he just doesn’t care. Neil wants to have a life with her. He wants the whole package, the thing they’ve both been searching for long before finding each other. The life they’d almost given up hope on. And not for the first time since he’s met her, he wants it with Claire Browne.

And the silence is broken, like a dam flooding with a river that ends up only being one word. “Yes,” she whispers, tears welling up in her eyes. “Yes, I will marry you.”

Neil can tell, even without looking in a mirror, that his face lights up at those words. His cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, his body practically aches for her.

A year ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed of unprofessional touches or intimate moments. He’d been so scared to cross the line, the point of no return. But now, he’s about to spend the rest of his life with the most talented, kind, incredible woman he’s ever met, and he doesn’t have to be scared. He leans over, meets her in the middle of the bed while on their knees, and kisses her without hesitation.

It’s sweet, the way Claire’s kiss is always a sweet release to him, and beautiful. Admittedly, he feels tears of his own coming on and tastes the salt streaming onto their lips from both of their eyes.

Claire pulls away after a while, laughing and smiling while crying. They’re both blubbering messes at this point, filled with overwhelming tenderness.

“What do we do for a ring?” Neil finally asks after they both compose themselves a little bit.

Claire looks around the room, ruffles around the drawer of the nightstand for something, and then finally pulls out a sharpie. “Here,” she says, pulling the cap off. Melendez watches in shock as Claire scribbles a line all the way around her ring finger, forming the trace of a ring with black ink. “It’s not a permanent solution, but it’ll do.”

Neil laughs giddily. Only Claire Browne would draw an engagement ring on her finger. There’s truly no one like her, and he loves her for it. “It looks beautiful, Dr. Browne,” he teases.

“It’s just until we get something nice. And when we do, it better not be anything big or tacky or expensive. But that’s just my preference. You know— just a suggestion,” she finishes with a smirk.

“Right,” he chuckles. “And I suggest you kiss me now.”

“That can be arranged,” she quips back teasingly, smiling as she leans in with her hands on his bare chest.

Neil smiles into the kiss, his lips pressing against hers. His hands find her hips and pull her in until they’re flush against each other. They crash onto the bed in a frenzy of blankets, Neil settling on top of her gently, and he sees Claire’s beaming smile and the black ink around her ring finger.

It’s the last thing he sees before he moves in to kiss her again. Neil tastes her lips on his, and thinks proposing to her was the best suggestion he ever made.

#the good doctor #tgd #melendaire #neil melendez #claire browne #neil x claire #claire x neil

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Rough Night

Bucky Barnes x (f)werewolf reader

Summary: Your life is already so weird, thankfully Bucky loves you through it all.

Warning: fluff, reader being a sass master w/ no filter

side note: couldn’t think of any cool avenger powers and then brain went werewolf so here we are

Masterlist

If you had a dollar for every time you’d ended up in the woods with ripped clothes and no shoes, well, let’s just say you could probably afford a real nice two bedroom apartment in some real pleasantly fancy building with a great view and all. Too bad green doesn’t just rain down from the sky every time the full moon comes round to knock you back into another world of blurry confusion.

You won’t lie to yourself, being what you are is strange and not very common in the slightest, obviously. It’s even weirder that you weren’t bitten one night and turned just like that, oh no, all passed down through the bloodline of other strange relatives. So you’re gifted with the curse, forced to inevitably change into a furry beast every single full moon, so what you’re still a mostly pleasant individual.

Well luckily for you, being born with the gift does happen to have its perks which do come in handy. For instance, you’re incredibly strong, quick on your feet, and have heightened senses, plus the ability to shift on command. It’s not all bad, well......most of the time.

Honestly you truly thought life couldn’t get much stranger for you and your whole hidden secretive situation, until low and behold some random red head found your little hideaway in a remote mountain side village far off in the Himalayas.

Everything was completely fine and under control and then BAM, she showed up with some important documents and something called an Avengers initiative and well shit, guess some time spent with the real world couldn’t hurt. I mean come on, some more friends seemed like a nice idea and uh, somehow they knew who you were so too late to run and hide.

Also at the time, considering you lived like a recluse on the edge of the village and of course for good reason, but damn if the red head didn’t just hand you an open invitation for some real adventure. Who were you to say no?

Fortunately for you, all seemed to go in your favor and fantastically enough, they had a nice big strong cell for you on nights when the wolf was inevitably bound to come out. A fridge full of plentiful snacks, a training room to lay off some steam, and a big safe and secure room all your own. It was perfect. Only problem was, there happened to be a very attractive and very wary of you super soldier who undoubtedly caught your attention.

How could you not, he smelled divine, muscles for days, thick thighs that could make a girl swoon, and he just seemed like the best goddamn hugger alive. Okay listen, maybe you were touch starved and deprived of human affection but dammit if your little monster heart didn’t skip a beat every time he was near you.

And yes, the few months it took to get him to crack was just down right torturous. But with some coaxing from Steve and encouragement from Sam, the winter soldier at long last did talk to you. Turned out he thought you were scared of him all along, how hilariously ironic you thought when he told you that.

But as time progressed and you both opened up more and more, a blossoming relationship sprouted forth, eventually evolving and manifesting into a big beautiful flower called love. Cheesy yes, but you couldn’t have dreamed of anything better.

And seriously, he wasn’t freaked out about your whole hidden hush hush secretive gift that usually either goes in your favor or ends up causing you major legal trouble. The man himself, Bucky Barnes, thought you were a marvel to behold, so odd and fantastic that he couldn’t stay away even if he tried.

And for that you could love him forever, especially now after a full moon while you’re out in the middle of nowhere. Hoping that the team will send your hundred year old boyfriend out to find you in the brisk dark morning after a grand unrememberable adventure. Which would be very nice of course, considering you have not a damn clue what you’ve done.....or where you are.

Cracking your back, you stretch your hands up to the dawning sky as a tired yawn escapes you. It’s been a long night and you look like a wild woman with your hear a fluffy nest and your clothes ripped in various unrevealing places thankfully.

Your surroundings are simply trees and small scraggly bushes, green grass underneath your bare feet and a small stream flowing in the near distance. With a second to listen, you can hear a highway a couple miles away to the east, guess that’s a start.

Rubbing your eyes you set out in that direction for about twenty minutes before a blue and gold Mercedes comes into view from the side of a country back road, it stops when you guess the driver spotted you from the tree line. Keeping a wary eye on the fancy sports car, you keep walking towards it until a figure gets out and leans against the passengers side door all cool and casual, then on further inspection you realize the driver is Bucky.

Yes! My knight in shining armor is here!

Trudging through the grassy field in the dewy morning light, he watches your every move, eyes crinkling in amusement as you come to stand a couple feet in front of him. Undoubtedly looking a bit wild, and very tired as you fold your arms underneath each other, giving your dark haired lover a shy almost fangy smile.

“I know I look like a hot mess.” You mutter with a shrug, biting your lip as you dart your eyes to the fields behind him, slightly embarrassed of the current disheveled state you’re in.

Bucky smirks before pushing himself off the car and engulfing you into a big Bucky bear hug to your pleasant surprise, “Y/N I’m just glad you’re okay and nothing bad happened to you.” He mumbles into your shoulder as you press yourself closer to him, letting yourself have this wonderful moment to relax and feel at ease.

Slowly pulling back to look up at him, you smile, “Aww Buck you were worried about me?”

He returns the grin, leaning down to press his head flush against yours, “We all were, me more then anyone else of course...and maybe for the general civilians nearby.”

You laugh nervously, “Oh right, yeah. Well hey, I didn’t destroy anyone's car this time. I think I’ve made progress.”

He pauses for a brief moment indicating he’s not sure if he should tell you something and this does make you nervous before Bucky finally lets out a little laugh, “You ate a whole cow Y/N.”

Snorting in surprise you quickly pull your head from Bucky’s, “What? Did I? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Yeah, uh I wish.” He admits with a casual reassuring squeeze to your arm, “We tracked you with Sam’s suit tech, yunno Red Wing, and uh....you seemed to be having fun.”

Mentally and just about physically cringing at yourself, you purse your lips together in slight embarrassment, “Shit. Was it gross?” You ask, making a face that causes him to chuckle.

“A little.” Adds Bucky with another casual shrug to make you feel less terrible.

“Is the farmer going to see everything, I mean shit they’re gonna be so pissed.” You worry, biting your lip anxiously as you break eye contact from him. “Why am I like this.”

“Uh, that’s not going to be a problem.” Inquires Bucky causing you to find his blue eyes once again.

Eying him up suspiciously you raise a brow, “And why’s that.....Bucky what did I do?”

Taking a breath he gives you a small apprehensive smile, “Y/N...you uh, kind of ate......everything.”

“I what?” I did not! No way, right?

Giving you a quick kiss on the cheek he smiles affectionately, “I’m going to be honest with you here it looked like a kid with a piece of cake who has no impulse control, and loves cake....like a lot.....Rodney almost puked.”

Rolling your eyes you fake glare at him, “Oh god who all watched my little horror show?”

“Mostly everyone.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s like a car crash Y/N, we don’t want to watch but we can’t look away. Sorry doll.” He confesses apprehensively, though honest and sincere knowing you do feel bad for what you do when out of it.

“No.” You say honestly, pausing for a moment, “It’s fine. Seriously Buck, I’m just relieved you guys keep taps on me while I’m out, god knows I can’t help what I do and where I go. It’s nice to have people making sure I don’t injure any innocent bystander.”

“Yeah I guess so huh...alright Y/N/N,” Chirps Bucky with a beaming grin as he attempts to shift the mood to a less dull one, “let’s get out of here, I mean unless you want to sniff around the place for awhile...it is a nice forest over there and all but I guess we can stay and I’ll let you...”

“Alright Barnes, can-it or maybe I’ll bite you.” You tease with a playful squeeze of his bicep before breaking out of his strong grasp.

“Depends on the context maybe I’d enjoy it.” Adds Bucky sarcastically, side eying you with a half smile as you move to open the car door.

Shaking your head in playful disapproval you lightly shove him aside, “Believe me you wouldn’t.”

——

The ride back to the Avengers base or headquarters or facility, who the hell knows at this point, was actually quite smooth and peaceful. Then again you fell asleep as soon as Bucky made it onto the highway, and continued to catch a much needed nap for the next hour ride home.

No one ever said you were easy alright, but let’s be real, Bucky would let you put him through anything and he’d be happy about it.

After parking and walking down the sidewalk past some early morning trainees catching a run, the two of you made it into the Avengers official HQ where all your rooms and other luxury’s are located. But of course not before walking past the facilities giant living space and huge kitchen.

Just keep looking forward, keep walking, walk faster you idiot!

“Y/N!” Shouts Sam in that stupidly peppy obnoxious early morning voice of his, no doubt gaining the attentions of Steve and Natasha who are seated at the kitchens bar talking about some mission report.

Pausing in the large doorway that’s not giving you or Bucky a whole lot of hiding space, you take a deep breath before turning to acknowledge him, “You’d think people would be sleeping considering it’s only six in the morning.”

Chuckling, Sam raises his protein shake, “Weird,” He says while giving you a knowing smirk, “we missed you during training this morning.”

Nat and Steve conceal their amusement as you simply roll your eyes, “Yeah well it was a long night.” You mutter unenthusiastically, earning the tiniest laugh from Bucky which causes you to throw him a glare. Knocking that smile right off of his handsome stubbly face.

“Well we got all these shakes here if you two love birds want one. Hate to have em go to waste.” Adds the smiling man with a nod, if he doesn’t just love seeing you looking like shit. No Sam I do not accept this invitation for you to tell me how crazy I look.

Sam means well of course, but damn he loves teasing you in front of Bucky for a fun reaction out of him. And it’s kind of working, but not on Bucky.

“It’s fine Y/N, you don’t have to have one if you don’t want to.” Calls Natasha before taking a sip from her mug. “Just ignore Sam, he’s been annoying since the gym.”

Before Sam’s even able to speak you quickly narrow your eyes at him, holding up a finger before making hasty steps across the room. Stopping right in front of him, “Give it.” You deadpan.

Brows raised in surprise he glances from a confused Bucky, then back to you again, “Listen I only made so much, Y/N this is my breakfast okay you can’t just...”

Ignoring his rushed rambling you pull out the whole glass blender full of protein shake before taking a step back as the whole room goes quiet, then never breaking eye contact you heartily drink up the whole entirety of its cold contents without missing a beat. Yeah, definitely needed that.

After you’re finished you lick your lips in satisfaction, taking a step closer towards a speechless Sam as you set the blender back in its place. Giving him a satisfied smirk before walking back over to Bucky where you tug on his jacket to follow you down the hall and away from everyone else.

Sometimes you can’t help but be a little dramatic.

——

Laying sprawled out on yours and Bucky’s giant mattress, you stare up at the ceiling as he folds your clean and freshly scented laundry, your mind swirling with thoughts of what duties you have to be apart of today. Blah, work.

Sighing gently you glance at Bucky to see if he heard you, not getting anything from him you sigh again with more grandeur this time. Nothing. Rolling your eyes you suck in a deep breath before practically soft yelling out your exhale like the dramatic little beast you are.

Glancing over to Bucky, you watch as he turns around to put some of your pants away in a drawer. Okay then, that’s how it’s gonna be. Quickly sitting up, you smirk a devilish grin before silently reaching over to pick up a small pillow, once in hand you don’t think twice before launching it at full speed directly headed for the back of his head.

But before your decently soft projectile can smack his precious flowing locks does a metal arm swiftly reach up to catch it mid flight. Oh, shit. Bucky’s head turns to you, brow raised at you before tucking the pillow underneath his arm, and going back to his usual domestic duties for the day.

Okay, killer of fun Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frustrated from lack of a reaction out of him, you stand up on the bed like a warrior about to give a great battle cry. Eyeing his cute butt up for a moment, you smirk once again before launching a sneak attack pillow right for his head. It sails magnificently across the room before a metal hand stops it in its place.

Well, shit.

This time he gives you a proper look, full of mischief and a new profound playfulness that sends an excited thrill throughout your entire being. As fast as one of Thor’s lightening bolts does the pillow soar in your direction, but conveniently for you he’s forgotten just how quick you can really be. This is just what you wanted.

Dodging to the left you watch in almost slow motion as the fluffy cloth just misses your face, instead opting to smack against the back wall with a loud thud. Snapping your attention back to Bucky he narrows his blue eyes at you suspiciously while you let out an admittedly scary villainous chuckle.

Let’s party my love.

He hands you a smirk right before shifting his body to the right, arm cocked back and thrust forward just as quickly, launching his second pillow attack without an ounce of mercy. You see it coming a mile away and as graceful as a dancer do you flip off the bed, landing perfectly on the carpeted floor just as the pillow smacks hard against the door. Thwack!

Slowly standing, eyeing him up like a lioness to her prey, you give him a satisfied smile, “Missed.” You tease.

Letting out a breathy laugh, Bucky takes a cautious step in your direction as he tests the waters, “Y/N what are you doing?”

“Getting your attention you ass.”

Chuckling he takes another step forward, “Was I ignoring you?” Duh, that’s why I, oh wait he’s playing you.

“Well you certainly weren’t doing anything interesting.” You sass as he steps again closer, this time about an arms length away.

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement, “Okay that’s fair, but was the pillow really necessary?” He asks, though his tone is still humorous.

Not falling for his alluring charm you tilt your head to the side, a knowing smile breaking out across your face as he tries to register what your true intentions are. “Yes, and so is this.” You quip before dropping to the floor for a side sweep of his legs, in an instant he’s on the ground and looking wide eyed up at you.

God he looks beautiful. No, focus.

“Y/N!” He whines breathlessly, brows furrowed as he holds himself up by his elbows, “Now you’re gonna get it!”

Taking a quick step back you snort, “Oh really now?”

And he’s fallen for the plan.

“Yes, and when I get you, you won’t be laughing anymore.” He grumbles, trying to keep himself from laughing as well.

“Alright then hot stuff try and bring me down.” You snap back playfully as he rises to his feet, “First one pinned has to run with Sam later, and we both know how much fun he is to run with.”

Bringing his arms up into a defensive position he readies himself for an attack, “Yeah, I’d rather not be his jogging buddy today. I mean it is raining outside, but I know you’d look real nice after a wet run.” Teases Bucky with a smirk.

“Touché you smartass.” His lips twitch into a grin as you ready your own stance. “Now let’s dance.”

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes #marvel imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #The Avengers #the avengers imagine #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x you

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ilkkawhat · 2 years

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end of the year creative reflection

Got tagged by @nade2308 💜💜💜

Since I’m in a good mood, and I absolutely love doing this stuff--and the best part is, I’ve been legit keeping track of my writing progress this year lol

1) What is your favorite thing you created? Which work are you the proudest of?

There are a few fics I’ve started that I am in love with the idea of but haven’t quite posted anything yet--I got a fic where Nick gets kidnapped and gets put in a “Dangerous Game” scenario and basically loses a year of his life held captive in a cage, the House of Wax inspired fic, a post grave danger fic that’s gonna be super emotional, a Creep inspired Nick/Nigel AU fic...

And some that I’ve started and have incredible ideas for, Death by a Thousand Cuts (Nick/Greg soulmate AU where pain translates to your soulmate’s body), First Flight (A Last Breath sequel), Seven Devils (A Karma to Burn AU where Nick is shot) and literally a little over one week I started The Stokes Family Christmas Chronicles--a chronicle fic that will go through Nick and his family through various Christmases (right now it’s mostly with my OC wife and his kids, but the other CSI characters will start to show up) and I’m having such a blast with it, and I’m also proud of it cause I had a day early on in December where I said I wasn’t going to write for the rest of the year and well...you can see how that ended up.

And of course. Specimen Stokes. Cannot stress that enough lmao, that is the work I am absolutely proudest of. It’s one of the wildest things I’ve ever written, but also the most wonderful in terms of how much fun I’m having.

2) Is there anything else you are proud of that you achieved this year?

Honestly making anything is quite the achievement, given the sharing hiatus I took earlier in the year, the month I spent with a 0 word count, incredibly intrusive thoughts and I probably said something along the lines of “I am never writing again” at least 10 times this year, not counting any bad days before 3/14/2021, I had 94 qualified bad days this year (and I mean bad)...and yet. I still wrote 54/94 of those bad days. In contrast to that month I spent with 0 words, I had a month where I wrote 100 minimum every day. There were plenty of days where I said I was going to give up and then the next day pulled a 2k+ fic out of nowhere, or finished a WIP even if it wasn’t perfect.

I’ve written almost 200,000 words total this year and am still alive, still creating.

And that is enough. I am enough.

(also legit didn’t think I’d make anything mac related ever again due to some intrusive thoughts/discouragement that I don’t think will ever go away and I’m surprised every time I create despite it so. that’s nice lol)

3) Did you explore anything new this year? (A new way to be creative, a trope you didn't write before or an idea you hadn't thought of earlier, etc.)

I did some uh. Pretty intense stuff in Specimen Stokes, starting to cross that line of dub-con (not full on non-con, but I do have a different WIP in mind where I will be putting up those warnings), and this fic is quite honestly that fic that is just pulling so much out of me that I’d never expect to publish--and I’m even starting to build like. An actual universe, I got sequel ideas, I wanna make backstories, it’s the first AU I feel like is a legit AU.

And speaking of AUs, I feel like I’ve been doing more of those, where I’m starting to change canon in huge ways--I came up with this great idea for Agony this year where I’m going to completely deviate from canon while I’ve been trying to work with the canon until now.

I also feel I wrote more like...idk, rare pair stuff or stuff that’s not like, super popular? Down in Mexico, a Nick/Silva fic that I have great plans for that is also a huge AU, Interesting, a Nick/Detective Secula fic (she was a minor character in one episode of season one lol), a few DaltonStokes fics but When the Bough Breaks is my favorite, and just generally have been writing more like, “solo” Nick fics? (Thinking of Empty on this one, and a lot of these fics have also been a bit cathartic for me to release some of my own feelings or explore some twisted dreams lol) I found a trend this year where I would write a little fic based on an episode during my rewatch, whether a tag or a rewrite or missing scene--What’s going to happen to me now?, a gum drops fic, is one of the best examples of this

Giffing wise I started doing that like, “gradient” effect to my gifs and finally found a suitable way to do my watermark that’s not incredibly obnoxious lol. I feel like the quality of my gifs has really improved, too.

4) Which work gave you the most difficulty? What was your biggest creative challenge this year?

writing at all and also myself as a whole

AGONY. I swear to y’all that I wanted to finish it this year and I barely got a chapter done--a chapter that I even cut in half given what I originally had wanted to post, but I’ve realized lately that people probably don’t want to read 10k+ chapters anyway so maybe the splits will be good in the long run.

But legit, looking back on my writing progression spreadsheet (yeah I’m keeping a spreadsheet for word count and to do statistical analysis lol) there were just...a lot of bad things I said to myself this year that definitely impacted my creating so. it’s been really difficult this year for me in general, and I have been a bit disappointed in what I didn’t do or didn’t get done.

5) Which work brought you the most joy?

Specimen Stokes continues to be my #1 dopamine fic just cause I get so giddy when planning it all out, and feel most of my creative energy has been directed at it (in hindsight, I probably should have even kept track of how many words per established WIP just to see which one is the most worked on?) And of course, I will admit that it’s not been perfect, I’ve been highly insecure with each deeper plunge I take or get to that point like I did with Agony where I hate what I’ve done and just want to delete it all and re-do it...but that was only once or twice. Over all, this is one of my best fic writing experiences.

6) Which of your works do you think people should check out?

Everything! I selfishly feel that nothing gets the attention it deserves (and hell that’s partially why I went on a sharing hiatus to begin with, and also cause a therapist told me to) but at the same time know that it’s an impossible expectation to have, but I feel like I have enough variety in my content that there’s something for everyone? And yeah, again, I know rare pairs are just that, rare, and I shouldn’t expect really anything out of those fics, I am and did write those for myself. And like, idk, sometimes it’s not even the quantity of feedback (though noticeably my ao3 stats are much lower this year than the last two...which is my fault) but the quality if that makes sense? And it’s entirely my fault, I shouldn’t think this way or be thirsting for feedback and I probably just got too addicted to the validation I used to get that I just don’t get anymore and it’s my responsibility to see the worth in my creations but...it can just...get really discouraging sometimes. (and honestly if anything I probably should stop sharing so much as a result of that)

Also specifically I thought my fic The Day the World Went Away was going to get a lot more feedback than it did...and idk if that’s just cause it’s yet another WIP--I realize that maybe having too many open WIPs may turn people away, or maybe I just hyped this one up too much and it didn’t live up to it--the fic is Nick, Greg, Hodges and Henry exploring a haunted mansion.

7) Do you have creative plans for next year? Is there anything exciting you are currently working on?

Just gonna keep going as much as I can, I definitely want to finish Agony next year and possibly Specimen Stokes too, and get started on both of their sequels. I also have the Last Breath sequel that I started and have tremendous plans for, and like. 40 other WIPs to work on (INCLUDING A LOT OF ANON PROMPTS I SWEAR!! I’M GONNA WRITE!)

and I guarantee there will be surprises for me next year in terms of creating just like this year, there always is lol

BUT I will already cut myself a break if I don’t happen to get anything done given everything going on in work right now (lots of new responsibilities with this promotion) and you can quote me on that if I start complaining about it.

8) Lastly, any words of wisdom or anything else you would like to share?

Don’t give up. Don’t delete. I have done both of these things and will honestly admit I still want to do these things, but it will hurt you more than anything you can ever imagine, you will lose so much of not just yourself, but valuable support that you probably took for granted and there’s nobody to blame but yourself. You’ll just end up more lonely than you may already feel.

But on a happier less deprecating note...those feelings will pass, and while they may come back they won’t persist forever. Just keep going. Cherish the people who encourage you, don’t be afraid to ask for their help, don’t take them for granted, let them know how much they mean to you.

And most importantly, remind yourself how much your creations mean to you. Go back and re-read your fics. Surf through your art tag. Maybe even make something that you don’t share with anybody (advice I have been told before, and I do kinda have some stuff I don’t intend to share but I definitely need to follow this better)

And above it all, you are worth it. you are enough.

Keep going.

tagging, and feel free to not do this if you don’t want, or if you’re not tagged and want to do this go ahead and say I tagged you: @frozenmemories1987, @jencsi, @letswaitforme, and again, anybody else who wants to do this!

#mk.op #mk.fic #mk writes stuff #probably MUCH longer than it needed to be lol #and now i might go write those last 1000 words i need to officially reach 200k words written #which doesn't seem like a lot tbh but #i'm gonna celebrate it nonetheless

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muffledcries · 3 years

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Jahmil French (July 29, 1991 – March 1, 2021)

We worked together on Soundtrack, and every single time you entered the room we all felt it get brighter. You were shiny, magnetic and so so kind. RIP and fly with the angels Jah. – JENNA DEWAN Really hate that this is real. @JahmilFrench you will be missed my friend. Thank you for your talents that pushed me, your energy that kept our little family on @soundtracknetflix glued together. I’m happy I was able to get to know you. Our work together def made an impact on me & You and your Mom felt like family back home. Today and everyday we will remember you and continue to be inspired to live and be great for you. Rest In Peace Jah. – CHRISTINA MILLIAN Honestly been at a loss for words since I heard the news. This doesn’t feel real. Jahmil, was one of the most talented actors I’ve ever worked with. One of the funniest kindest people I ever met. The life of the party, every room he would walk into he would always be dancing and making people laugh and smile. Too many good memories. Thank you Jahmil. Rest In Peace King. – AJ SAUDIN Heartbroken over the loss of our friend Jahmil French. We started on Degrassi the same year and I’ll never forget the day I met him. Jahmil was so full of energy and absolute joy to be around. The video on the last slide is how I always think of him, always dancing. He was such a special person and I’m so grateful for the memories we made. I still can’t believe it. Gone way too soon. He will be so missed by us all. – ANNIE CLARK My heart is so heavy.. Truly one of a kind. Rest In Peace. – CRISTINE PROSPERI I’m sick with the news of Jahmil’s passing. He performed Dave with such sensitivity and thoughtfulness and could make me laugh so easily. It was a pleasure to work with him and he will be missed. This is a real loss. Rest In Peace. – STEFAN BROGREN Jahmil had such talent and charisma that it would have been intimidating were he not also a real gentleman. He would show up to my house-parties with a crew of dancers and they would elevate the mood immediately. When life got messy he would handle himself with grace and levity. He was precocious. And his love for music (and dance) was contagious. He showed me Section 80 by Kendrick Lamar, made me appreciate Drake’s Houston sound… Wish I’d gotten the chance to catch up with him one more time, hear where his mind/dreams were at. – SAM EARLE Jahmil, your talents and energy will never be forgotten. One of the best smiles with the most beautiful soul. Jahmil, you will always be such a bright light in this world. – SARAH FISHER This one really hurts. Jahmil French was a truly kind soul and one of the most talented actors around. He inspired me with his confidence and support from the first day we met and will continue to do so forever. Thank you for everything you gave to this world through both your art and your humanity. Rest In Peace my friend. – CRAIG ARNOLD Much love to the entire Degrassi family on this difficult day. It was a complete honour to write for and work with Jahmil, an incredible actor and talent gone way too soon. – RAMONA BARCKERT An extraordinary talent and a bright light on and off screen. Rest in peace, Jahmil. – MICHAEL GRASSI So sad to hear about the passing of Degrassi cast-member Jahmil French. An endlessly talented & charming performer who was always fun to write for. Last time I saw him, he was nominated for a CSA for his work in the movie Boost and I was certain he was only getting started. RIP. – MATT HUETHER Jahmil was always such a kind person. My heart is heavy for him and his family. Thanks for all the good memories Jahmil, you really had an impact. I’ll cherish all the fun we had dancing at basement parties all those years ago. Still in shock. Jahmil will be missed. He was an integral part of the Degrassi family and certainly a huge part of my degrassi days. He always wanted to make people laugh and smile, a true joy to be around. Rest in Peace. – CHLOE ROSE Rest easy, my friend. Your talent, kindness and shining bright light will never be forgotten. – JESSICA TYLER Wanted to pay my respects to an incredibly kind, funny, and talented individual; Jahmil French. One of the first people I met on Degrassi, he immediately made me feel welcome. He disarmed you with a smile and his confidence and energy was infectious. You’ll be missed, brother. – DYLAN EVERETT Jahmil was one of the most gifted and effortless performers I’ve ever met. His vibrant personality lit up the room. Rest easy my friend. – MUNRO CHAMBERS I am heartbroken to hear about the loss of Jahmil. Jahmil was an extraordinary talent and a bright light on and off the screen. He was a joy to work with on Degrassi: The Next Generation. He brought an authenticity and burst of life to every scene he was in and infused his character ‘Dave’ with an airy lightness. Off screen Jahmil would always make me smile. He will be deeply missed. – LINDA SCHUYLER My heart goes out to the entire Degrassi community., but particularly of course to those who were closest with Jahmil. We have lost one of our own. Jahmil was kind, intelligent, extremely talented, and just a wonderful person. He was also of course an incredible dancer, and since I am the exact opposite we had a running joke that I had taught him all his dance moves. When I would completely ineptly do the Moonwalk, Jahmil would cheer me on, while everyone else would beg me to stop! RIP Jahmil French, your soul and presence are sorely missed. – STEPHEN STOHN A sad day for the Degrassi family. With a heavy heart I thank you for all the times you made me laugh, taught me dance moves, and gave me confidence as Adam. Thinking of all the memories we shared on and off of set. - JORDAN TODOSEY Thinking of Jahmil French & the entire Degrassi family today click here for the full post - LYLE LETTAU This one hurts me deeply. When I found out yesterday I refused to believe it! I wouldn’t except it and to be honest I still don’t quite believe it’s real. I love you and the energy between us was always genuine. Working with you was always a blast and you were always the coolest man in the room. Till we meet again my friend. – CORY LEE Terribly sad to hear about Jahmil’s passing. Whether I was his scene partner, or just a viewer, I was in awe of his sheer talent. A room was brighter because he was in it. A true performer, a great guy and a huge loss. #RestInPeace – JUSTIN KELLY I’m so shocked and saddened to hear this news about Jahmil. Jahmil was and is such a kind, fun loving, hilarious, full of life, hard working and professional person. He was my first real scene partner on a series I got to be a series regular on. I remember the day my agent sent me the casting for Degrassi. It said I would be playing Dave Turners love interest. So the first thing I did was pull up the good ol IMDB machine and find out who Jahmil French was. The same day as my audition a few mere hours later I got the call that the role was mine (pretty rare in this industry) I went in to do my fitting and thats when I met Jahmil, Spencer and AJ for the first time as they played an iconic trio on the show. They were all super friendly and nice to me and made me feel very welcomed to be joining the cast. I was nervous and 15 at the time. Jahmil was the integral glue that held the circle together and its would lead to an amazing friendship that I got to have with Spencer. I had only been slated to do 3 episodes on the show but I believe it was the on screen chemistry Jahmil and I had that lead me to stick around for longer. Jahmil always had a smile on his face. I would come in at 5am for our call to do prep and be so tired, but there he was hanging out in the green room dancing so full of energy and life. Jahmil LOVED dancing and he was really good at it too. And I’d ask him “How do you even have this much energy this early LOL” and he’d just laugh and smile. Any time we went down to block he’d be word perfect on his lines, hit every mark and bring such an amazing professionalism to the set it was mesmerizing to watch. He played every scene with a new beat that always kept it interesting and fresh. Jahmil was and still is such a kind hearted dedicated person who eventually really went on to flourish in his career and he will be deeply missed. Heaven really gained a new angel today, Rest In Peace and say hey to all the other pals up there. Spencer and I will pour one out for you - ALEXX BENOIT Rest in peace my guy. An amazingly talented actor who had such a presence on and off screen. – DEMETRIUS JOYETTE Jahmil was such a wonderful person to be around. so funny, so charismatic, so talented. and my god he loved his work. I’m devasted. Sending my love to his friends and family. In a year full of grief, it’s hard to comprehend how there can be room for more. And yet. Jahmil French was an incredible person, so full of talent and passion for his work. He lit up a room with his energy and dance moves. An easy smile and a natural charisma. He will be so missed. My heart is broken. I feel strange, announcing these things I wish I had told him more often. Reached out more often. The regret is acute. He deserved his flowers when he was here. I hope he knew how much love & admiration there was for him in this world. – AISLINN PAUL One of the most talented, kind hearted, funny spirits I’ve had the pleasure of building a friendship with. Jahmil is an icon. My love for him runs deep. Jahmil you will always hold such a special place in my heart. Thank you for being one of the most talented, compassionate, kindest, funniest friends I have. You were so loved. I’ll miss our dance offs. #Bhandurner forever. Jah literally won the title of most competitive goofball. What joy he brought to my life and to so many. So grateful for memories and deep convos with you, beautiful angel. Blessed that we got to be part of a big dysfunctional family together. Thank you for sharing your gift with the world. I just hope you knew how loved you were. I learnt so much working with this talented dedicated soul. Please send a prayer for his soul to go directly toward the light. – MELINDA SHANKAR Such a beautiful soul & a light to everyone around him. Rest in Paradise Jahmil. – JOELLE FARROW This moment will live in my mind forever. A beautiful soul, thank you for the years of memories and laughter. You’re a light my brother and I’m so happy we got to experience this crazy life together. I’ll always remember you dancing down the halls of the green room. Rest In Peace. – LUKE BILYK I’m devasted. My man, I swear I was just thinking about you not even a few days ago when I was making my new demo reel, watching all the old Degrassi episodes. So talented. So unbelievably wise beyond your years. You made one of the best times of my life even better. I’m so crushed. I should have called you. I dont deserve to miss you as much as I do now. I would always say my favourite actor on the show was Mr. Jahmil French. I would always watch his parts when going thru Degrassi material to either study my tech or to cut demos or whatever else. Not 4 days ago was I daydreaming about making some kind of new production with all of those talented people. My hearts broken. – DANIEL KELLY Jahmil was always the brightest light in the room. Smiling, dancing and making all of us laugh till we cried. Rest In Peace you beautiful soul. You will be missed… - ALICIA JOSIPOVIC This is absolutely heartbreaking. While I never worked directly with Jahmil on Degrassi, our paths did cross a few times. All you needed was 5 minutes with him to realize what a beautiful, talented, bright soul he was. My sincerest condolences to his family and loved onces. Rest In Peace Jahmil French. – ANA GOLJA Shocked & saddened to hear of Jahmil’s passing. Loss of such a talented and bright soul. Rest in Power cuz, I’ll pour one out for you, am so wishing this was a dream. – JAJUBE MANDIELA I join thousands of people around the world thinking about Jahmil today. A beautiful, joyful person to be on set with, truly intimidating on the dance floor, an all-around wonderful person to have known, gone just way, way too soon. Sending love to everyone who loved him. Jahmil, I hope you feel it too. – CHARLOTTE ARNOLD I didn’t know Jahmil very well, but in the few times we met, he was so explosively kind, charismatic and truly interested and invested in every interaction. I immediately felt accepted and got a sense of the deep compassion that so many others had expressed was within him. The impression I had always stuck with me and from all I have heard he was such a beautiful and loving person, the special kind that makes everything a little lighter. Thank you to everyone who has been sharing stories of their time with him. Sending love to Jahmil and all of you. – ERIC OSBORNE Jahmil was such a special human. A long-time acting student of mine, & my mentee. He was fearless and brilliant in his pursuit, and I’m so sad we won’t get to see more of his gift. I’m so grateful to have crossed paths with him, and I wish him eternal peace. – SALVATORE ANTONIO So sad to hear of Jahmil’s passing. He was so kind and so funny. I’m glad I had the chance to know him. You will be missed. Rest in Power Jahmil. Gone too soon. Will never be forgotten. – TAYSHA FULLER Even though I only worked with Jahmil for a little while he made a truly lasting impression. I remember when I first came back to set as Tori and I was incredibly nervous those first few weeks, but Jahmil was so welcoming and treated me and the other new cast members like we’d been a part of the cast the whole time. If he gave you a compliment or even said something as simple as “it’s so good to see you” you knew he genuinely meant it. It seems like a small thing but it’s hard to find that kind of authentic honesty in most people. He was an incredibly talented actor and always such a positive energy on set, and I’ll remember him for all those vibrant moments. Rest In Peace. – ALEXA STEELE This smile. This spark. This spirit. Jah I am missing you from this earthly plane we all love you. – MEGAN FERGUSON there never seems to be enough time… I don’t know if words can describe someone like Jah. He really was too special for this world. A true artist to his soul. I was lucky to call him my friend. Rest in Peace and Power Angel. you will be so dearly missed. – PAUL JAMES I guess I thought if I refrained from making a post, it would ease some of the pain.. but the more hours that pass, the more it sets in heavier. JAH. Mi familia. My brother. I am crushed. I have believed in you since the moment we met, and it makes me smile to know the feeling was 100% reciprocated. The purest soul. Always himself no matter WHERE he went. It takes courage to be that way you know? To have that strength. From Antigone to degrassi, to LA to NY you had EVERYTHING in you to shine. All the power, all the talent, all the intelligence the drive, the fearlessness. Your smile made me smile. Sweeterman jah, I miss you so much already. – SHANICE BANTON Dance on, old friend -through the clouds. I will see you on the other side. click here for the full post – SHANNON KOOK

#jahmil french #this took me forever but i wanted to make it pretty #he will be forever missed #:(#edit*#degrassi #idk why the scroll box isn’t showing up sigh I apologize for it being so long #dave turner

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

dance with me

request from nonnie! “Hello! Im terribly in love with your writing! I was wondering if maybe, Charlie takes Bill, the twins an (either oc or reader insert) to a muggle party and they’re all super confused but love it and Fred is completely smitten by the OC when she danced and maybe did something weird/special of your choosing. I hope it isnt much, lots of love for u and Mischief Managed! ♥️”

pairing: fred x muggle!reader

word count: 2.2k

A/N: my dudes i don’t even know what the fuck this is but i loved this request so much, didn’t mean to make it sad, sry, also you can interpret this how you will.. personally i think they’re both too vulnerable rn to ~get it on~ but i like to think that maybe fred would open his heart again after this and she’d mend his heartbreak..... brb making myself big sad !!!!!! but listen if you wanna imagine him pinning her against the wall and having the time of his life then go for it, man i'm just...... big into angst;;;;;;; pls reblog & leave feedback & things of the like, thank you loves

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @parker-potters @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 | message me to be added!

The foggy, wet streets of the city were unappealing compared to the very comforting, open landscape next to the Burrow. The very last thing that Fred and George had wanted to do was follow their two eldest brothers in the frigid, rainy weather to some silly Muggle party in central London.

Especially Fred.

He didn’t want to be forced out of the one place that made him somewhat happy, especially when he was still nursing the heartbreak that had been causing him so much unpleasantness.

But they’d obliged, because Charlie had nearly pounced on the two of them about it, and they’d much rather go to this than be forced to sit inside the Burrow with pompous Percy -- although, since the war, he had admittedly gotten better at not being a self-righteous git.

The twins had a ton on their plate; not to mention, Fred wasn’t in the mood for any of it. They were dragged out of their business shop by Bill, who was adamant about the fact that they’d both needed a night out, and when they’d tried to persist, telling their eldest brother many times that they had too much to do before the newest shipment of magical inventions came in, Bill had nearly hexed the pair of them, causing them both to shut up almost instantaneously.

But now, as bright, fluorescent lights hit the middle of the room, highlighting you, your smooth and effortless dance moves, and the very lazy grin on your face as you sang along to the booming music in between sips of your drink, Fred wasn’t so huffy about being here anymore.

His heartbreak didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

At least right now, it didn’t.

Admittedly, Bill was right. They really did need a night out. They’d been so bloody busy working that they hadn’t even been to the pub in a few weeks’ time. Ever since the war, business had seemed to escalate, which was really saying something, considering it was incredibly busy even before all of this had gone down. The two of them hardly ever had a moment to breathe. Which, they supposed, was good for Fred. Kept him occupied, kept his mind at bay. But they reckoned they probably needed to hire some more help. Ron had reluctantly agreed to lend a hand. It was Hermione’s idea. A brilliant one, at that.

George thrust a beer frustratingly into his twin’s hands. “We’ve got so much to do, mate.”

“Yeah,” Fred replied breathlessly, truly not listening to a word George was saying.

Fred Weasley had always had it easy when it came to the ladies. They flocked to him, really. He didn’t like to admit it so as not to come off like an entitled prat, but it was true. It was probably due to the fact that he was always making everyone laugh -- something that came equally as easy to him. Perhaps it was his bright red hair that the girls ogled over. Maybe it was his wicked sense of adventure, and the fact that he was always landing himself in questionable situations more often than not. But that was school. He could easily impress those girls at school. He hadn’t had too in a while, though. He’d been happily tied up with the same person for years — that is, until he wasn’t. Until she’d picked someone else.

This was different, though. This was a Muggle party, in the middle of central London, in someone’s sweaty, sticky flat with a bunch of people he didn’t know. Fred couldn’t do magic here. He couldn’t impress someone with his inventions or with his stories about adventure without giving away the fact that he was a from a magical background. He couldn’t use his usual tricks in front of all of these Muggles or he’d be in a ton of hot water.

He also couldn’t let his very intense vulnerability and his rusty flirting get in the way.

But he wouldn’t be Fred Weasley if he didn’t try, right?

It was always easy for Fred to be able to flirt absentmindedly with women. But with his heart in a fragile state, he wasn’t so sure it would be easy tonight.

Bill, picking up on his younger brother’s locked knees and fingers gripped tight around his beer, stopped in front of them. “You alright, Fred?”

“Yeah,” Fred said again, clearing his throat and swigging a bit of his drink. He then thrust the nearly full beer into Charlie’s hands, who furrowed his brows in a confused look. Fred continued, “More than okay. Hey, you guys have fun -- I’ll catch up with you in a bit, alright?”

He left his brothers standing at the other end of the room as he pushed through tons of people. When he’d finally made it to the middle, you were gone. He casually swerved around, peering all around the room to try and meet the gaze with the eyes he felt like he’s known for years already. He then spotted you toward the corner, pouring yourself another drink. His feet began moving before he could register exactly what he was doing; so quickly, in fact, that he hadn’t even heard the obnoxious exchange of words and laughter from behind him from his brothers.

“Merlin, can we go anywhere without Fred picking someone up?”

“Give him a break, mate -- he hasn’t seen anyone since everything unraveled with the last one. It’s been almost two years. Reckon this is good for him — for me, too.”

“Wish it was that easy for me to pick someone up, bloody hell.”

With his heart pounding unnaturally against his ribcage, Fred slid next to you and too began to pour himself a drink, glad to have gotten rid of that beer that Charlie was now undoubtedly guzzling. He opened his mouth to speak, but much to his surprise, you spoke first.

“Ahh -- a whiskey man, are you?”

He was taken aback at the sultry sound of your voice; maybe it was because the music was pounding in his ears, or the fact that you were this foreign person he desperately found himself wanting to know, and very quickly. He looked down at his drink, and then up at you. You were already sipping yours. “That a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily -- though I haven’t decided yet.”

The slight eyebrow raise you gave him made his insides twist. It was too early in the night for nerves. He swallowed them down as he took a swig of his very strong drink. “Haven’t decided, hm?”

You turned to him and then around to face the rest of the party. You inched closer and crossed your arms over your chest, and nodded. “There are three different types of men here tonight, you see. Those, over there,” you pointed with your pinky finger to a bunch of very frat-like men sipping lazily on their beers or glasses of wine, “they’ve come looking for something casual. Not so casual as far as one nighters go, but a fling. Something of the like. Those over on that end,” Fred followed your finger over to a very messy looking group of men who were dancing far too close with some women in the middle of the dance floor -- they looked like they all needed to get rooms. Separately. Merlin. “You know the type of night they’re looking for.”

Fred couldn’t help but snort a bit as he sipped casually.

“And then there’s you. Sipping your whiskey. Cute as ever.”

You turned back toward him and he raised an eyebrow. He was now feeling a bit self-conscious — he was both thrilled and equally embarrassed at being called “cute” by a woman as stunning as you, way out of his league and probably having quite a laugh yourself. He didn’t even know your name. What would you say next? You’d already deemed him the “third type of man” in the room, but the fact that he was a standalone, and not lumped in with another group, made him feel both overwhelmingly relieved, and also slightly terrified. But he tried to play it cool.

“What about me?”

You brought your hand to your hip and wet your lips, pondering this. A small smirk spread itself across your face, the fluorescent light flashing across your eyes. “I dunno yet,”

He liked that. He liked that you didn’t know anything about him. He liked that he didn’t have to be the bloke who made jokes to lighten the mood, the guy who loved messing with people, or the boy who got his heart broken by a girl who’d never really cared for him at all. He didn’t have to be any of those people. He could just be Fred.

“Haven’t decided, I reckon? Like the whiskey?”

You smiled; it was bad enough that Fred was losing his mind solely at the perfume you were wearing, and the fact that this conversation was going absolutely nothing like what he’d planned. Your eyes met his and your voice was soft when you leant in closer, “That’s what makes it so bloody dangerous.”

He didn’t know what the bloody hell you meant by that but he didn’t seem to mind, especially when you grabbed him by the shirt and led him to the dance floor again, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you as some slow song he’d never heard blared through the speakers in the corner.

“And to think — I was just going to come over here and see if I’d even be lucky enough to have a chat,”

You laughed at this, shutting your eyes whilst doing so, and Fred noticed something sparkly painted on your skin toward the edges of your eyes. “What can I say? You’ve intrigued me.”

Perhaps he could do this without any magic. Bloody difficult to not talk all about it, though.

Perhaps his vulnerability would subside, and he’d be able to talk and flirt and dance without thinking back on his own overwhelming heartache that had rendered him nearly useless the last few months.

But after a while, he stopped worrying. The music was so loud, your laughter so infectious, that he’d forgotten all about all those stupid jokes he’d wanted to make about his shop, about Hogwarts, about the magic he’d learned growing up. It wasn’t until you’d asked him to be in the moment with you that he’d truly remembered them.

“Just,” you’d started, tugging gently on the collar of his shirt and biting your bottom lip as another song played loudly, “just be here with me, okay?”

Fred wondered, as glassiness seemed to fill your eyes through a grin at him, if you, too, were in need of this night out.

Maybe you were nursing some kind of heartbreak, too.

Maybe you were also trying to find some type of normal.

It was in your tone — in the way your voice trembled slightly when you’d said be here with me. He didn’t think you were looking for something like a fling, like those guys you’d pointed at before. And he definitely knew that you weren’t looking for one night and one night only, like those sloppy people he’d kept trying to avoid on the dance floor. Maybe, like you’d said, you just needed him to be here. In the moment. Just the two of you, shoes heavy against the hardwood floor, eyes sparkling underneath the lights.

He realized, when he peered down at you and felt some type of warmth for the first time since his own heart was crushed in its vulnerability, that he just needed you to be here with him, too.

So when you leant forward slowly, trying to read his expression, to see if it was okay to do what you wanted to do, he leant in too, pressing his lips gently to yours in a spark of electricity for the first time in Merlin only knows how long.

And what he tasted on your lips sent him spiraling.

When you pulled apart, he raised an eyebrow and smirked at you. “What?” You asked nervously, biting down on the bottom lip, desperately trying to hide the smirk that was growing on your face.

“A whiskey girl, eh?”

You shrugged casually, as if it meant nothing. But you both knew it meant everything. It was just strange, he thought — your first interaction just hours ago, the conversation you’d held, and how you were here, now, entangled together. You wiggled your eyebrows at him — and he was surprised that he found it both innocent and incredibly alluring. “Told you it’s dangerous.”

You sipped the very last of your drink before tossing your cup into the waste bin. Fred reckoned he could stay here all night, forgetting about all of the things that kept him up at night, the things that had been making him so bloody prone to unpleasantness for such a long time. He wanted to laugh again. He wanted to smile again. He wanted to love again.

When you cocked your head to the side and smiled softly at him, beginning to mouth the words to the music, he reckoned he might just be able too.

Then you tugged on both of his hands, placed them delicately across your waist as you locked your arms around his neck again, you said over the booming of the next stupid song you’d undoubtedly sing every word too,

“Just dance with me, Freddie.”

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp imagine #hp imagines #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.7

a poem begins in the lump in the throat

Chapter Six

This is the seventh chapter in my ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.

Last Chapter: Aaron went to Spencer's apartment and found him in a depressive state. Lots of cuddles and comfort ensued.

In This Chapter: Aaron and Spencer go to a museum with Jack, but it is definitely not a date. And Spencer's depression definitely does not get in the way.

TW: same as usual — as well as additional ones for a trigger scene and depictions of caring.

Word Count: 4.8k

RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

SPENCER

A poem begins in the lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. — Robert Frost

The day after Aaron had turned up at his flat, he’d rung Penelope who had not-so-guiltily confessed to sending him his way. He wasn’t upset though, quite the contrary. A kind, cuddly, caring Aaron showing up in the middle of a minor depressive episode was exactly what he needed, and the evening they’d spent together had burned its way onto the tissue of Spencer’s heart. It was one of the happiest moments he’d experienced in a long time, despite the weighty, persistent, downward tug on his mood.

He’s been over every day the team has been home in the two weeks since, Penelope taking over when he’s away, and as exhausting as Spencer has found human company in the past year, neither Aaron’s nor Penelope’s presence drains him in the way everyone else’s has. They accept his low mood, not blinking an eye when he doesn’t have the energy to respond to something they say or when he zones out and stares blankly at the wall for minutes at a time. He can’t even find it in him to care that both of them have seen him naked now.

Their company starts to chip away at the glacier of loneliness that had spread itself across his chest, inching its freezing border ever closer to the corners of his ribcage as he pulled away and watched everyone else do the same. Aaron and Penelope simply aren’t having it, and their determination to show him love and friendship and warmth is slowly but surely melting his isolation to a puddle on the floor, soon to dry out and be forgotten.

Penelope had come with him to his first psychiatrist appointment, though she’d sat in the waiting room this time, and it had been incredibly relieving to be able to properly let go of some of the heavy burden that had weighed so heavily on his shoulders all this time. He’d kept him on the same antidepressants Dr Reese had prescribed him, and although he hadn’t felt a huge difference yet, Dr Parker was incredibly reassuring and he was trying not to assume defeat so early in the game.

He did feel slightly better, though, as he came out of the dip in his depression that had come on the day after his day out with Penelope. Once Aaron had noticed his mood brighten and his energy levels increase slightly — evidenced largely by Spencer not immediately falling asleep on the sofa when he comes back in from work — he’d suggested getting out of his apartment and doing something.

Spencer was apprehensive at first: the idea of willingly putting himself in a position of proximity with strangers and unpredictable circumstances made his skin crawl. But then Aaron had proposed a quiet trip with him and Jack to the Natural History Museum, maybe a walk in the park if the weather was nice. Spencer had found it hard to decline.

The last few weeks had only solidified Spencer’s feelings for Aaron further, intensified by both his persistence in being close to Spencer and his relentless kindness, and he had begun to feel something like real, genuine hope stirring on the surface of his soul.

He’d caught Aaron looking at him a few times when he thought he was asleep or zoned out, and the softness on his face felt reflective of Spencer’s own expression when he looks at Aaron. He couldn’t imagine him being so insistent on taking care of anyone else on the team, and since he’d left the BAU anyway, he had no obligation to be so dutifully kind.

Yet, he shows up before and after work every day the team is in Virginia, no matter how far out of the way Spencer’s apartment is, making sure he eats, showers, has clean clothes. Making sure he knows he’s loved. (Something whispers deep in his heart that maybe that love is the kind he’s dreamed of.)

On bad nights when he was still working at the BAU, he’d hug his knees to his chest and imagine Aaron curled up behind him telling him how much he loved him, telling him that it was going to be alright. He could never look the man in the eyes the next day at work, but that didn’t stop him. It worked better than anything else he tried and now it’s a reality he can’t pinch himself out of.

Truthfully, in the weeks between quitting the BAU and Penelope forcing Aaron and herself back into his life, he’d desperately missed his time in Aaron’s apartment, playing with Jack and pretending his life wasn’t splitting at the seams. The idea of spending a whole day with them — without the added baggage of trying to box up his increasingly untameable depression — was something he actually looked forward to. It’s a nice feeling; admittedly one he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Penelope comes over the morning of the outing.

(“I’m not about to let you flush this down the drain just because you end up having a tough morning,” she’d insisted when Spencer told her she doesn’t need to. “I’ll come over and force you out of bed and into a nice little outfit if I need to. You are going on that date with Hotch. Sorry: Aaron.”

“Shut up,” Spencer had said weakly. “It’s not a date.”

“Irrelevant,” she’d sniffed and levelled him with a glare he couldn’t argue with.)

He’s pretty sure that her insistent and relentless protectiveness and aid is part of her very focused mission to make up the last year to him. In fact, he’s almost certain, considering every time she sees him he’s bombarded with yet another apology and a small present for him. He’s not sure how to get through to her that he’s already forgiven her.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asks as she walks into the living room to see Spencer curled up on the sofa with a blanket pulled over him. He had actually made it to bed last night, but the only way he could pull himself out of bed this morning was to promise himself a few minutes on the sofa, exciting day ahead of him or not.

He shakes his head. “Not hungry,” he sighs, picking at a loose thread of his blanket.

“That’s okay,” Penelope says lightly, dumping her handbag on the armchair before breezing into the kitchen and setting the orchid she’s brought with her on the windowsill. He hopes she knows she’ll be the only person around responsible enough to water it. “We’ll find you something small. How does a little bowl of cornflakes sound?”

“Fine.”

She puts the coffee machine on before bringing him a bowl of cornflakes that is decidedly not little. He hates that her tactic works and he eats the whole thing. “Why do you always have to be right?” he grumbles as he polishes off the bowl and puts it on the coffee table.

“I don’t know, baby genius,” she sighs exaggeratedly, sagging into her armchair. Spencer doesn’t know what he’d do without Penelope Garcia and her incessant dramatics. “It’s truly an affliction.”

“Mhm.” Spencer raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, but Penelope’s saved by the coffee machine beeping and she stalks into the kitchen to pour him a cup. He has no idea how early she wakes up to make it over to his house dressed to the nines with a full face of make-up on at eight am. He smiles fondly at her as he takes the proffered mug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says brightly, sitting back in her chair and sipping at her own cup. “So, how are we feeling about our date today?”

As much as Spencer does not appreciate her suggestive eyebrow waggling, he can’t help but smile at her antics. He also can’t help but blush. “It isn’t a date, Penelope, I’ve told you this.”

“Right, right,” she says drily. “I think I’d have an easier time believing you if you weren’t constantly sending one another heart eyes and weren’t clearly half in-love with one another already.”

Spencer decides it’s probably best to avoid mentioning that his feelings have definitely progressed past the ‘half in-love’ phase, and just looks down. “Jack will be there,” he points out instead, “and the Natural History Museum isn’t exactly a steamy date location, is it?”

“No, that’s exactly the point. It’s a Dr Spencer Reid date location.”

Spencer looks at her a little speechless for a moment. Unfortunately, she’s right. He’s privately thought about getting married in one of DC’s many museums, and science and history are two of the subjects even a casual acquaintance would know he’s fascinated by. Plus, it’s also something he’s bonded over with Jack.

All of that may be the case, but it doesn’t change the fact that he absolutely cannot let himself consider this a date.

He’s already let himself fantasise enough about Aaron returning his feelings; not letting himself think of this as anything other than platonic is the only thing he can hang onto to protect his fragile heart. Getting his hopes up only to find out he’s wrong would crush him, and he can’t risk a devastation of such proportions right now. He’s barely getting out of bed in the morning as it is.

Penelope seems to catch on to his spiralling thought process and leans over to lay a hand on his knee. “Hey, I know it’s intimidating,” she says gently, “and you don’t have to think about it as a date if you don’t want to, especially if you’re apprehensive because he hasn’t said anything explicitly. I just don’t want you to doubt yourself. I promise you he has feelings for you, too, okay? You need to trust me on this one. That man is absolutely gone for you.”

Despite himself, he finds himself smiling at her as her words warm him from the inside out. Even if he knows he has to be careful with his heart, he can’t help the optimism his head conjures up at such a promise from someone he trusts with his life. “Okay,” he whispers shyly.

“Right,” she says, putting her half-empty coffee mug down on the table and gripping Spencer’s free hand to pull him up from his pathetic sprawl across the sofa. “Come on, you. Aaron won’t be long, let’s get you looking at least half-human.”

He only agrees because she lets him bring his own coffee mug with him to the bathroom. She’s a good friend.

Penelope slips out a few minutes before Aaron is set to arrive per Spencer’s request, and he sits nervously on the sofa, waiting for the doorbell to buzz. He’d chosen his favourite shirt and tie combo and gone with a lilac sweater under his smartest navy coat. He holds his scarf in his fidgeting fingers, ready to put it on once they get outside, but he still feels naked. Suddenly, everything that’s riding on this day out fills him with a sort of dread and he feels vulnerable, scared of all the endless ways this could go so wrong.

Before he can spiral properly though, his intercom buzzes and he rushes over to answer it, even though he knows who it is. He’s glad he does, because Jack’s voice crackles its way into the quiet of his apartment. “Spencer, Spencer, come out, we’re here,” he shouts excitedly, and even though Spencer winces at the feedback his high-pitched voice elicits, a fond smile still finds its way onto his face.

“I’m on my way down, buddy,” he says back, with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, before patting his pockets to make sure he has his keys, phone, and wallet. He locks his door carefully and makes his way down to the front of his building. Apprehension balls in a pit in his stomach, but it loosens as soon as he approaches the pair waiting in the cold outside the front door.

Jack runs up to him and he crouches down to give him a big hug, wishing he had the strength and confidence to pick him up and twirl him around like he’s seen Aaron and Derek do so many times. Jack doesn’t seem bothered, though, an excited grin painted across his face as he pulls back from the hug.

“Hey,” Aaron says once Jack has let Spencer go and he stands back up straight. He presses a hand gently to the middle of Spencer’s back and the touch spreads warmth up to his shoulders as he watches the curve of Aaron’s smile. “How are you doing?”

“Rocky morning,” Spencer admits — he’s almost certain Penelope sends Aaron status reports, so lying is pointless. “Penelope helped.”

“She always does,” Aaron says warmly, keeping one hand on Spencer’s back while the other holds Jacks as they walk to the car parked a little way down the street. A little spark of excitement rushes through Spencer’s body as he briefly lets himself think about what casual passers-by might assume about the three of them. “You still up for the Natural History Museum?”

“Of course,” Spencer replies, as brightly as he can, trying to ignore the pull of sorrow still weighing his gut down. “Are you looking forward to seeing the dinosaurs, Jack?”

“Yes!” Jack shouts eagerly, letting go of Aaron’s hand to unzip his little puffer coat to reveal his long-sleeve t-shirt. A big, green t-rex stands out against the blue background, and Jack’s never looked prouder. “Dinosaur, see?”

“I do,” Spencer laughs. “It’s a great shirt, Jack.”

“Hey, let’s zip that coat back up, buddy, well done,” Aaron says gently and Jack does so obediently. “He insisted on wearing it,” he tells Spencer once Jack’s hand is back in his and he’s securely wrapped up. “He wanted to show you.”

They arrive at the car before Spencer can reply, and Aaron opens the passenger door for him to get in before strapping Jack into his car seat and setting him up with a few of his toys, including his favourite dinosaurs. It’s only a fifteen minute journey to the museum, and they pass the first half of it in a comfortable silence, but eventually, Spencer works up the courage to ask the question that’s been at the tip of his tongue the past two weeks.

“How’s work?” he asks, trying to be as innocuous as possible, though his awkward avoidance of Aaron’s eyes probably gives him away.

“It’s good.” He’s clearly treading carefully as he eyes Spencer for a brief moment before he returns his gaze to the road. “We’ve only had one major case since you left, and we muddled our way through it, got it solved. Everyone does miss you, though, Spencer. They really do.”

It’s a concept he still can’t really get his head around. He hasn’t been around for a year, not really, and they didn’t miss him then. It feels almost… convenient, to Spencer. Guilt is not remorse.

“Have you found my replacement yet?” Spencer surprises himself by not feeling any jealousy at the prospect of someone taking his position on the team. He’d long ago accepted how replaceable he is socially, and it’s not like the pool of talented, intelligent prospective agents is exactly small. He also has no desire to be around his old team; not as they were in the build-up to his resignation, not like that. He still has Aaron and Penelope, but he’s only just starting to trust that they’re not going anywhere.

“I think so,” Aaron sighs heavily. “As long as her paperwork goes through, she’ll join the team later this week.”

Spencer nods, not really knowing what to say to that. Aaron reaches his right hand across the console and rests it on top of Spencer’s clasped hands, the warm reassuring weight of not just anyone’s touch but Aaron Hotchner’s turning his insides into a melted puddle as his heart beats faster. He hooks one of his fingers over Aaron’s, a silent message to keep his hand there, and he doesn’t worry about what to say next. Nothing needs to be said.

Spencer knows the Natural History Museum like the back of his hand, so he directs them to the best parking spot before taking the lead and walking them into the gorgeous, open foyer. Jack bounces excitedly between them, so Aaron lifts him onto his shoulders to reduce the likelihood of a disaster.

“It’s not too busy for a Sunday,” Spencer observes, half trying to calm himself down in such an unfamiliar environment, “so we should be able to see everything we want to. Jack, do you want to see the dinosaurs now or later?”

“Now!” he shouts loudly, wiggling as happiness floods his little body. Spencer smiles fondly at the pair, and a little more of the apprehension he’d felt at leaving the house melts away.

“Well how could I refuse that request?” he chuckles, leading them towards the dinosaur exhibit. His breath catches when he feels the back of Aaron’s hand brush the back of his, and in a moment of bold and brash insanity, he interlocks his pinky with Aaron’s. After the moment in the car, he feels such an action is warranted, but as soon as he does it, panic sets in.

Before he can retract his finger though, Aaron takes Spencer’s hand properly. The feeling of Aaron’s big hand gripping his own in a gentle but firm hold makes his stomach dip, and goosebumps find their way up his arms and down his side. He’s never felt safer than right in this moment — never mind the crowds of people they’re passing through; the insecurity of being outside his flat; the uncertainty of what could happen — never mind all of that, because his hand is in Aaron’s and Aaron keeps him safe. He doesn’t trust much anymore, but he will always trust Aaron.

Jack babbles eagerly the whole way to the dinosaur exhibit, repeating some of the facts Spencer had taught him in his previous visits to the Hotchner household in a “did you know?” format, leaving both Aaron and Spencer chuckling fondly, trying to encourage him as much as possible.

Spencer shows them around the exhibit, acting as their tiny group’s personal tour guide, and Jack couldn’t be happier, insisting on walking instead of being carried so he can press his face up as close as possible to the displays, his breath fogging up the glass as he leaves fingerprints all over the cases. They spend nearly an hour walking around the exhibit, playing with the interactive toys and examining each and every display in a close-up fashion.

Once they wrap up their dinosaur exploring, Spencer brings Jack to a bench and asks him what his favourite thing he learned is.

“Uhh,” Jack hums, furrowing his eyebrows in a way that reminds him so much of Aaron it’s almost uncanny, “oh! They were terrible and they were stupid!”

Spencer’s confused for a moment before laughing as he manages to decode what Jack is trying to say. “Dinosaur does translate to ‘terrible lizard’, well done,” he agrees, “and you’re right, they weren’t much smarter than reptiles these days. Good job, Jack!” He raises his hand for a high-five, and Jack doesn’t waste any time in slapping his palm to Spencer’s.

“Can we get ice cream?” he asks eagerly, widening his eyes in a plea as he looks at Aaron who's been observing the unravelling scene from the pillar next to the bench.

“Go on then,” Aaron concedes, grinning at his son’s uncontainable happiness as he wiggles around next to Spencer.

They head to the museum’s cafe and all order ice cream, taking a seat in the middle of the canteen.

“This reminds me of field trips back in school,” Spencer muses, gesturing to the surrounding noise with his spoon.

“Yeah?” Aaron asks while Jack picks distractedly at a scratch on the table, licking his ice cream cone happily.

“Before I was identified as a gifted student and sent years up the grade school ladder, I was a fairly normal kid in a fairly normal school. We went on a field trip to a museum in first grade, and I loved every minute of it. I got to impress all my friends by sharing all my memorised facts about space, and we ate our packed lunches in a canteen like this. My mum was still on her meds back then, and she’d cut all my ham sandwiches into dinosaur shapes.”

Aaron’s smiling at him as he talks, and he realises that it’s probably because it’s the most he’s had to say in weeks, much less something anecdotal and personal. Spencer realises belatedly that it’s the sort of thing one might share on a date, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.

“I’m glad you have nice memories from your early childhood, Spencer,” he says, and his hand reaches across the table to find Spencer’s again. “It’s the least you deserve.”

He averts his eyes as he blushes, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed by the attention, and focuses on his ice cream for a few minutes before he’s cooled down a bit. “What about you?” he asks, meeting Aaron’s eyes again. “Any field trip memories?”

“I made out with my ninth grade girlfriend at the planetarium once,” he admits quietly, a mirthful chuckle finding its way into his voice.

“Maybe minutely better than dinosaur shaped sandwiches,” Spencer says, a little shyly.

“Ooh, dinosaur sandwiches!” Jack chimes in, suddenly aware of the conversation the adults are having. “Can I have some?”

Spencer’s phone vibrates just as Aaron goes to appease Jack’s enthusiasm for novelty shaped lunch food, and he pulls it out curiously. These days, the only people to text him are Aaron and Penelope, and Penelope had told him she was going out with a friend today.

Hey, pretty boy — Spencer’s heart sinks as he reads the first line of the message, tears immediately springing to his eyes — I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. Hotch said something about personal stuff going on? Anyway, I thought I’d text you to tell you just how much we miss you at the BAU. Life isn’t the same without you, and it was hard to not even get a chance to say goodbye. Any chance we could meet up at some point? We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to, we can just go grab a coffee or something. D

Aaron must read something off in his face — it’s not exactly like he’s trying to hide it — and he immediately slides closer to him on the circular canteen bench. “Hey, hey, Spencer,” he says soothingly, “you’re alright. What’s going on?” He just slides the phone over to show Aaron the message, and he immediately gets it. “I know that must be overwhelming, and we’re in public which can’t be helping.” He glances over at Jack who’s looking worryingly at Spencer, clearly confused. “Why don’t we go back to our place? Jack and I will help you feel better, won’t we, buddy?”

Jack nods at that, pressing himself into Spencer’s side and wrapping his tiny arms around him. “Yeah, we make you feel better.” He reaches up and clumsily brushes a tear away from Spencer’s cheek before kissing it. It makes his heart warm that this is how Jack treats someone sad: he must be emulating the behaviour adults have shown him in these situations, and Jack only ever deserves the absolute best. Especially after losing his mom.

“Thank you,” he whispers, pressing himself closer to Aaron. Every time he’s upset he seems to lose his inhibitions around him, but he can’t help it. He needs the comfort only Aaron can provide, and after denying his starving heart the love and reassurance it's been begging for for so long, he can’t help but indulge himself now it’s finally an option.

They make their way back to the car and Spencer’s in such a haze of confusing emotion the only thing he can really ground himself in is Aaron’s arm wrapped around his waist and Jack gripping his hand on his other side, sending him worried looks. If he had the wherewithal to feel anything other than a deep sense of grief combined with rising panic he’d feel guilty for ruining such a nice day out, but as it stands he’s spared that particular brand of misery.

The drive back to Aaron’s is a little longer than the first journey of the day, but Spencer just clings to the hand Aaron offered him as soon as they got back in the car and tries desperately not to spin completely out of control and start hyperventilating in front of the five year old strapped into his car seat behind him.

Jack is asked to play in his room for a bit once they get home and he obeys, aware of — if not entirely comprehending — the tension in the air. As Spencer sits on the sofa waiting for Aaron to get back with a glass of water, the grief and panic clear a little. He hates himself for the relentless gravity of his depression: the way it pulls down even the brightest of days, the way he can physically feel his insides being sucked downwards into the blackhole of desolation.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aaron asks gently as he sits next to Spencer on the couch, close enough that their arms are touching. Self-loathing is the only thing preventing him from leaning into his comfort like he did at the museum, like he did in the car. Instead he pulls away and curls himself as small as possible into the corner of the sofa. When Spencer doesn’t reply, Aaron takes a risk. “Do you think you might be so upset because somewhere, deep down, you want to see Derek too?”

He snaps his head up at that, surprised Aaron would say something so blunt and, as much as Spencer doesn’t want to admit it, truthful. After a good few moments of contemplative and patient silence, his thoughts are ordered enough to voice them. “I miss them all,” he admits quietly. “I desperately want to see Derek. But the Derek I left hurt me so much I wouldn’t know where to even start in trying to reconnect with him.”

Aaron nods in understanding from his spot in the middle of the sofa. Spencer longs for this pit of self-loathing to melt away so he can feel confident enough to crawl back across the cushions and share Aaron’s personal space again.

“That makes a lot of sense, Spencer,” he says, resting a gentle hand on his ankle, and it’s such a casual, intimate touch he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He settles on not moving even an inch, lest Aaron pull his hand away. “For what it’s worth, the others have started to piece together why you left. I know they’re all regretting how everything played out, and everyone on the team misses you sorely.”

Spencer ponders that for a moment. He doesn’t know how it makes him feel: it’s nice to be missed, and a sick sort of vindication flourishes in the less savoury side of him at the idea of the others realising the crippling, world-changing pain he’s been in for the last year, right under their noses.

He misses so much about the others, but that’s not new: he’s missed JJ’s hugs and Derek’s teasing and Emily’s friendship for close to a year now. Sitting at his desk in the bullpen next to Derek and Emily’s private bantering, sharing an inside joke he didn’t understand towards the end of his career at the BAU had cut deep, reminding him just how achingly alone he was.

“I don’t know where to start,” he says hopelessly, feeling like he’s repeating himself. Tears spring to his eyes again, spilling down his cheeks relentlessly, as though the second he’d let one fall, they toppled down his face like river water desperate to escape, unsure of when the dam will close again.

Aaron scoots himself over to Spencer’s end of the sofa like he can’t help himself, and this time he lets himself fold into Aaron’s warm embrace. He cries as quietly as possible, but it’s hard when he doesn’t have the energy to do anything other than sob helplessly. He can hear himself; he knows he sounds like a broken, defeated man, but he simply doesn’t have the power to care.

As his sobs start to dry out, he sees that Aaron is crying, too. He’d noticed his wet eyes the last few times he’d cried in his presence as well, and he has no idea how to feel about it. If Aaron is seriously going to cry every time he does, though, then he’d better strap in.

“Why don’t you have a nap?” he suggests, wiping a tear from the sensitive skin under Spencer’s eye so tenderly it makes his heart clench. “Then afterwards, we can think of a way to go about this. Maybe we could start with a short text back. How does that sound?”

Spencer nods tiredly, and lets Aaron help him get into a comfortable position on the sofa. A warm, soft throw is draped over him and Aaron half closes the living room blind, but the day is dark and grey enough already anyway. As he’s falling off to sleep, a hot water bottle is tucked under the blanket and he instinctively curls up against the warmth, but he knows that the real comforting soporific is the man reading quietly in the armchair next to him.

For the first time in a long time, Spencer looks forward to waking up.

Chapter Eight

Rereading Penelope in this chapter when I came to edit it made me want to take a second to recognise all of the unofficial carers out there <3 I've been a carer for both my mum and my grandmother at various times in my childhood and teens, and it's tough going. If you're looking after a friend or a family member, please remember how amazing and wonderful you are, and also remember that it's okay if it's too much, and it's okay if you need to cry or scream or break down. You are still just as brilliant no matter your emotional reaction to what is an exceptionally difficult situation to find yourself in. I love you, and I'm always here to talk to you about this (or anything that comes up in this fic!) <3

If this chapter brought anything up for you, hotlines are in the endnotes of the AO3 version of this fic. Bigger countries are listed and a link is included if you live somewhere else in the world. I love you <3

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @marvel-ous-m @oliverbrnch @sbeno22 @aaron-hotchner187 @kuolonsyoja

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o5-blackbird · 2 years

Note

Okay I’m gonna go into more detail about this cause this is still bugging me. Cause different phrasing and a better choice of which information to tell and which to hide could have changed things drastically. This is a recurring trend with many o5s here; not telling us everything is par for the course, we get that, but quite often the bits chosen to be told to us seem to be specifically the bits that make it look as sketchy and morally bankrupt as possible, even if the actual situation doesn’t warrant that. You may have the full context, but we do not. We just have those little chosen pieces you’ve given us. By nature of being human, we will try to relate things we don’t understand to things we do, so we can make a judgement.

An example based on recent events: We could have been told, ‘3 has problem in their programming that causes increased aggression and confusion over time. They have had a system update and they will be out of it for a few days while their system adjusts, but they will return to normal soon’. That is easy to understand. Things went wrong, things are in recovery, and reassurance that things will be okay. We can get that! It’s like when you’re put on new medication. Those first few days are a little funky, but they will pass and things will be okay.

What we got, though, was ‘aggression removed’, ‘made docile’ (extremely bad word combo, by the way), ‘I feel bad but it’s not my business’, and then nothing but denials but refusing to actually explain why we were wrong, meanwhile 3 sitting there looking the most lifeless we have ever seen them. How do you not see how incredibly sketchy that looked?! Getting info that would prove us wrong and settle our worries was like trying to pull teeth! In fact, neither of the o5s did shit! It was the other fucking AI who let us know things would be okay! At any point, either of them could have said ‘hey 3’s low mood is only temporary’, and things would have been better! I’m still mad, cause this was not just us jumping to conclusions as you all seem happy to write it off as! It was also them completely dropping the ball!

[Audio: clip lasting four minutes and six seconds, beginning with a brief pause of silence lasting approximately eight seconds. There are a few similar gaps of silence littered throughout it.]

Blackbird: I… Can understand your frustration. I apologize if I seemed dismissive of the issue at hand early. Thank you for voicing your frustration. Genuinely.

Blackbird: I cannot pretend to understand how Reality 565 chooses to obscure information. I am neither within or hold any influence on their Council. I am not saying this to absolve myself, I am saying this because I do not speak for their reality and everything below is stated from a position of neutrality.

Blackbird: With that out of the way, I understand how sketchy it appeared. You already provided evidence to support that conclusion.

Blackbird: As you also provided, obscuring information is often a typical part of a Council member’s role. Oftentimes, this is either intentional or unintentional; of which it seems the occurrence earlier today was a mixture of the two.

[There is a pause lasting approximately twenty seconds. A slight noise like a pen being set on a table can be heard halfway through.]

Blackbird: As far as I can tell—and I acknowledge that I could have missed details; Seven lacked the knowledge to provide an accurate answer, the Administrator provided a answer and continued to answer follow-up questions for a duration of time following her initial answer, and Three provided his own answers on numerous occasions.

Blackbird [His tone lightening a little]: I understand that it can often feel as if us Overseers are just stating just enough to cause for alarm before whizzing by as if nothing had occurred—but I am trying to assume that both individuals had well intentions in mind but merely had difficulty communicating them to each other.

Blackbird [His tone lighting a bit]: Regardless, I am glad that you brought this frustration to my attention. I’ll try to keep an eye out for any of my own personal faults like this in the future.

Blackbird: I cannot guarantee total transparency, either for myself or the other Councils. I do not believe that that is what you are requesting of any of us but I feel the need to state that nonetheless.

Blackbird: Do you have any other things that you would like to address currently? I am asking sincerely.

#satisfaction brought it back #anon #[This long ask scared me dkdnkdjd /lighthearted /not mad]

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

Note

I am the post-season-finale-sadness asker. Zero pressure AT ALL, okay?! No need to even fill the ask! And please remember that you are a damn gift!! 🎁🎁

The gift

It's early. It's still dark outside when Corin opens his eyes and forces himself to stay awake. He's tired but there can be no more sleep for him.

Unlike Din, who is currently a comatose heat-bottle against Corin's back. It seems the previous day had been quite exhausting for him.

A quick look over at the crib reveals an ear poking up from the pillow and Corin concludes the weariness includes their son as well.

Celebrating Snoo-Andai had taken a lot out of them.

Corin had never heard of Snoo-Andai before, had no idea the people in the neighboring village celebrated it, but when he, Din and the child stopped by to pick up supplies, they were quickly invited and included in the festivities.

Din was a little wary, but Corin saw no harm in letting the child have some fun and also pounce on the opportunity to try some of those baked goods the villagers were offering.

Corin learned how Snoo-Andai was to celebrate the Snow Spirit of the planet and all the rituals that followed. It was fascinating but he was also humbly delighted at being allowed to be a part of something so important to them.

It also meant an abundance of amazing food and treats. Corin and the child were the first to over-eat, the little bean devouring incredible amounts, but Corin also made sure to hoard several sweet treats for Din to eat later once they were back at the cabin.

Clearly the experience had left Din not only tired but in an exceptionally good mood too, as he agreed to eat his treats in their room while Corin kept t he child entertained. and the Mandalorian even shed his Beskar before getting into bed when it was time to retire for the day.

It had been such a wonderful experience that the memories brings a smile to Corin's face. He feels warm, safe and loved here, next to this wonderful man and close to the most adorable child in the Galaxy.

-For every treat you eat, you got to take twenty sit-ups. The voice of Corin's father whispers at the back of his mind, pointing out everything he'd eaten yesterday.

Right. Yeah. That's why he was awake at this hour. Time to work off his sins. He could do laps on his skates and then, when it was a little more light, he could head up into the mountains and push himself there for a couple of hours.

Corin gingerly eases himself away from Din, is about to sit-up and tip-toe out of the room, but suddenly Din's arm slides around his waist and Corin is pulled back against him.

“Din...” Corin says, quietly so not to wake the child. “I was just going outside for a bit to-”

“No.” Din mumbles groggily, sounding like his eyes aren't even open. “Stay here with me?”

It's tempting. It is oh so tempting. Corin trails his fingers over the back of Din's hand until his fingers slide between his and he braids them together. “I should head out. Work off some of those cookies...”

“No.” Din repeats, hugging him closer with a satisfied sound. “No, you should stay here with me.”

Corin grins, feeling stupidly flattered. “Din...”

“First day of Snoo-Andai is the day of gift-giving. You need to be rested to open the gift I got you later. One for you, one for the kid.” Din yawns and settles again.

“Gift? We're giving gifts?” Corin has a moment of alarm. Din had never said he wanted to do the full seven and a half days of Snoo-Andai rituals. “I didn't get you any gifts. I have to-”

“The gift to the kid is from the both of us.” Din mumbles sleepily, drawing a lazy thumb over skin where Corin's sleeveless shirt has ridden up. “And my gift? Don't go. Stay here with me. Close your eyes. Sleep.”

“But...”

Din hugs him tight, sighs with satisfaction and eases his grip a little. “Stay with me.”

-Forever. Corin thinks. Out loud he says; “Okay.”

And while the notion that him staying in bed with Din could be considered a gift is ridiculous, Corin still can't help the faint smile on his lips at the happy sound Din makes.

He feels warm, safe and loved here, next to Din Djarin and close to the most adorable child in the Galaxy.

Corin stays.

And Macero Valentis goes quiet.

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aclosetfan · 3 years

Note

Ask Game: Any number that has been asked yet.

oof ope sorry I missed this! I've got a ton of homework (school started up again :/ one year left tho!), but I'm going to take a moment to get this out of my ask box!!

No one ever asked about Operation Bummer, which I really only like for the name tbh. It's a blues story. BubsxBoomer = Bummer. get it?? listen, it's funny, okay? trust me. it should be their pairing name but not one ever listens to me 🙄

Okay, so let me set the stage:

Bloss: she's home for the summer :( and she doesn't want to be. She's going into her sophomore year of undergrad somewhere on the east coast, and like most almost sophomores from prestigious schools, she thinks she knows everything.

Bubbles: studying to be a Spanish teacher! Also a sophomore, but going to TownU in Townsville. Has a huge huge huge crush on her Spanish partner Pablo, but he breaks her heart early on, and she's taking it out on every guy she knows.

Butters: not in college. Didn't know what to do with her life, so she just stayed home. Acting super sus. And now constantly smells like cupcakes (??) as opposed to sweat and dirt. (She's still bloody tho?) Idk it's just sus. She's also making *~pancakes~* more often!

Brick: "it's summertime, I've got my hat on backward, and it's time to party." (low-key high-key excited that Bloss is back for the summer because things were getting way too boring in Townsville without her to mess with)

Butch: Coming home every morning bruised, bloody, and PISSED. which isn't too abnormal, but he's not making them ~*waffles*~ anymore :/

Boomer: would like to make out with someone. is not making out with someone. horny.

The Quick and Dirty Plot Rundown:

the girls and the boys don't get along at all

the greens are in a suspiciously good mood until one day they're not

this affects both Blossom and Brick, respectively, because they've gotten quite used to their green sibling cooperating to their ever whim.

Separately, Bloss confronts Bubs, and Brick confronts Boomer. The reds are like "OMG somethings totally absolutely utterly wrong with [insert green sibling]. Aren't they acting totally strange???

the blues are both like lol no? [insert green sibling] is always grumpy. it was actually more weird that they were so uncharacteristically happy???

the red, respectively, are like, uh no [insert blue sibling], you are most definitely wrong. we need to investigate.

the blues and the reds end up figuring out that both the green siblings were acting weird through so happenstance--I'm thinking like a cheesy fight, where the greens don't allow their red siblings to blow a bunch of hot air and waste everyone's time. The reds are highly offended by this sentiment and start bitching about their siblings.

the reds somehow (in all their superior wisdom and intellect /s) are like "OMG wait! They must have been banging!" (Blossom doesn't say banging tho, that's Brick).

the blues are like uh no????????????????? they most definitely weren't.

the reds are like lol you two are so cute they definitely were, secretly because they thought we'd be mad, and then they broke up, and now they're fighting like exes, and this doesn't benefit us anymore because no one's making pancakes/waffles in the morning, and the reason breakfast isn't happening is because they're so upset about the break-up. (Brick really really hits the waffle thing and everyone ends up being like OK dude we GET it. and again, he's like no you don't.)

Blues are like srsly guys this is a real stretch

((because it is. the greens weren't/aren't dating.))

reds are like lmao shut up we're getting them back together. (it's also hinted that the reds are a little bored)

so the reds make up all these crazy schemes to get the greens together again and force the blues to execute the plans! Why the blues? well, the reds obviously can't execute the plans because as Brick states, "coaches don't play." Anyhow, the reds are too busy trying to one-up each other to honestly care if their plans work.

And because they honestly don't care, the plans keep backfiring.

for real, the greens don't like each other so ofc the plans aren't working on them. You wanna know who the plans are working on tho???

yeah.

lmao.

the blues.

the plans are going so horribly wrong that the blues bond over how pointless the project is. Boomer's like, "why am I the dumb one again?" and Bubbles like, "lmao dude mood." And then as time progresses, they start to have fun with it.

during the "dinner and a movie," they initiate a popcorn fight in the middle of a cheesy romcom

during the "whoa did I just randomly run into you at the mall?? Plan," they have fun trying to outdo each other at the shitty arcade games.

At the carnival, they stuff their faces with concession stand food and ride all the rides until they get sick (and end up holding hands on the Ferris wheel "accidentally")

you can see where this is going right? A bunch of cute dates where the blues learn the importance of "not judging a book by its cover" and "listen you wanted to make out with someone, it might as well be your sworn enemy, they're not doing anything important today anyway."

I'm so gross, I literally plan a "seven minutes in heaven" scene just because I can.

Sorry, I digress.

Obviously, the blues are getting cozy, the reds are fighting, and the greens are getting hella suspicious. Rather simultaneously, the greens corner their respective blues and (in boomer's case) beat the info out of them.

The reds "brilliant" idea unravels fast. Turns out, Butch was pissy because he was having trouble beating this new guy that just randomly popped up in the underground fighting ring he was participating in

buttercup is pissy because she's trying to keep the little bakery she secretly works part-time at open by making a extra cash on the side. To do so she started participating in this underground fighting ring, and Butch is getting a little too close for comfort in terms of discovering her true identity. She also has an inconsistent sleep schedule and it's making her a little nutty.

the "truce" ends

things go back to "normal"

the end?

nope.

Buttercup's like, "hey bloss--

"--is there something off about Boomer?" Butch asked Brick.

What, no, you're crazy, [insert blue sibling] is always like this, says the red sibling

Shockingly, the reds are wrong again.

The blues are heartbroken. They don't get to go out on their "dates" anymore, they don't get to have fun anymore, and most importantly, there's no more making out :((((

The greens--incredibly astute for a bunch of dumb angry jocks--put two and two together fast, and are like, "oh fuck off for real?? We're seriously doing this?? We're seriously going to play matchmaker??"

they both agree no no they'll absolutely not do that! Not at all! No way! No freakin--oh no is [insert blue sibling] crying?

So, ANYWAY, boom! Operation Bummer is in full swing all over again. The greens put aside their differences to help their favorite blue siblings because there's nothing worse than seeing a blue sibling pout.

The greens are definitely like "this is really going to make our strictly working relationships so weird, but whatever, if they break up, then things just go back to normal anyway."

They threaten the reds :) confront the blues :) get them back together so they'll finally stop crying :) tentatively smooth things over with their parental figures :) and then, when peace is finally achieved, the greens go right back to fighting each other like HIM intended :)

(but ya know, after everything they've been through, maybe now when they fight, they avoid punching each other in the face. it doesn't mean anything. it isn't like they like each other or anything. that would be soooo stupid...lol unless--)

#outline ask game #my outline #operation bummer #my writing #this one will be fun to write ngl #so i actually should write it #the reds are in some weird ass co-dependent [EMOTION REDACTED] relationship #the greens are like #bitch if i see you in the street your ass is dead #the blues are 10/10 ready to bone anything that can walk and well...country girls make do.#ppg fic outlines

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whentherewerebicycles · 3 years

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some thoughts that might seem unrelated but aren’t, i promise:

— in that atomic habits book I read a couple weeks back the author talks about using a specific, action-oriented question repeated throughout the day to help you build or break habits (like “what would a physically fit person do?” or “what would a sober person do?”).

— the aging books i was reading last month noted that people who score high in conscientiousness (on the Big Five personality traits) tend to age most successfully ie enjoy the longest stretch of active years. to quote this article, conscientiousness is “a fundamental personality trait—one of the Big Five—that reflects the tendency to be responsible, organized, hard-working, goal-directed, and to adhere to norms and rules...Conscientiousness comprises self-control, industriousness, responsibility, and reliability. A conscientious person is good at self-regulation and impulse control. This trait influences whether you will set and keep long-range goals, deliberate over choices, behave cautiously or impulsively, and take obligations to others seriously.” I tend to score very high in openness but very, very low in conscientiousness. more on this in a bit...

— my sister and i were talking recently about different kinds of intelligence, and also about core values. one of hers is efficiency, a word that i have all kinds of negative associations with lol but that she explained in ways i found really intriguing. for her efficiency isn’t about, like, Maximizing Productivity for Capitalism but is about methodically searching for the most effective, least confusing or redundant, most easily-communicable-to-others way to solve complex problems. when she encounters a system that has all kinds of weird bottlenecks or inefficient, time-consuming ways of completing a task (esp if the rationale for those methods is just “well.. that’s how we’ve always done it”), she starts immediately examining the larger structures and workflows around those bottlenecks to see if the established ways of doing things can be rerouted or simplified, and then she constructs new protocols or tools for people to use instead of the old inefficient way of working. efficiency will never be a core value of mine, in part because i think my humanities-oriented brain accords more value than her STEM/medicine-oriented brain does to wandering, daydreaming, slowed-down thinking, doubling-back or retracing one’s steps, and other “inefficient” modes of thinking that slow down the process but can lead you in unexpected directions or spark unanticipated epiphanies that illuminate the larger structures differently. i think we both share a keen interest in systems-level thinking and in examining whether established ways of doing things are the most effective ways of doing things, but we prioritize different modes of thinking and problem-solving in figuring out how to alter or redesign those larger systems (which is probably a result of temperament differences + our field-specific training).

THAT SAID, i have been thinking a lot about how one area of my own intelligence i would like to sharpen/hone in both my professional and personal life is like... a mode of intelligence that is linked to rigor, a more methodical approach to problem-solving, and the ability to construct & more methodically test detailed mental schemas. not quite sure how to articulate that but i feel like my thinking has gotten a little fuzzier than i want it to. and I think maybe this sensed fuzziness in thinking is linked to some of my ongoing feelings of restless discontent re: work. I also just in general want to be more conscientious in how I approach and solve problems, or in how I tackle big and small projects.

— this is more tangentially connected but: i feel like one thing i’ve noticed this year is that a lot of the people i admire professionally are really good at seeking out & taking on lots and lots of additional challenges or commitments, and they can do this in part because they tend to be very conscientious people, ie people who have big-picture vision but are also very detail-oriented and good at managing their time effectively & doing things efficiently so they can take on multiple projects without feeling overwhelmed. i feel like my own low-conscientiousness means that i can’t take full advantage of my high-openness—often i want to take on new projects or challenges but i worry that i’ll overextend myself or that the project will become more time-consuming than i anticipate. i think is linked to a different sort of fuzziness, ie a lack of clarity about how long things take or how much time i have — all combined with a deeply ingrained sense of myself as someone with executive dysfunction issues (poor time management, poor planning skills, poor organizational abilities, etc.). i think of myself as a very inefficient and extraordinarily disorganized person, whether this is 100% accurate or not, and that can sometimes lead to me taking myself out of the running for opportunities or limiting the number of projects i take on out of a fear that i won’t be disciplined enough to see them through.

— another thing my sister and i were talking about recently is how within large families, siblings tend to get assigned a “role” or a personality within the family dynamic very early on, and then they get sort of locked into that over time. everyone in the family expects them to always behave in that way, and there’s often a lot of unconscious resistance to letting your family members change or grow or develop in ways that contradict the clearly defined family role that’s been assigned to them, or the family “story” that everyone else in the family tells about them. you can get locked into both positive and negative roles—or like, often the positive role has a negative flipside. we were talking about how within our family, i’ve been “assigned” to be the “deep thinker” ie the introspective one who spends my life writing and thinking and daydreaming, whereas my sister has been assigned the role of being most like my father, ie very methodical, analytical, unemotional, and action-oriented (and therefore not introspective or inward-looking). and we were talking about how both of these have a negative flipside: my sister feels like she doesn’t get to be a “deep thinker,” or an introspective, emotionally intelligent person; whereas i feel like in my family’s story for me i am forever in “lalaland,” as my mom always says—head in the clouds, an ineffectual dreamer, the absentminded professor who has lots of big thoughts and feelings but is incapable of bringing any of my fantastical ideas to fruition because i have very little practical knowledge or stick-to-itiveness.

— as i’ve said many times before, i feel like i can’t solve the big-picture issues with my job right now, since so many of them are linked to shitty pandemic realities. but i was thinking that maybe one way to begin laying the groundwork for this final year in my job might be to work on strengthening my conscientiousness at the micro-level, ie in small everyday habits and interactions. my hope is that maybe by practicing conscientiousness in lots of small, low-stakes situations, i can start strengthening those muscles and building trust in myself as “the kind of person who does ____” (which i feel like is necessary for me to begin challenging the family story i’ve internalized what i am like). i mean, there is a lot of truth to that family story! but i bet that those aspects of my personality are nowhere near as inflexible or as like, divinely preordained as i have often assumed they are. like, i bet that through practice & through building better habits i can actually become significantly more conscientiousness (reliable, responsible, hardworking, efficient, good at follow-through, self-disciplined, etc) than i am now. and while efficiency may never be as central a value for me as it is for my sister, i think there is probably a way for me to see efficiency and conscientiousness as linked to my own core values, if only because those qualities or traits will allow me to better enact/embody my core values. so i think i can see it not as working against the grain of my personality, but as working to build out less-developed parts of my personality to strengthen the parts of my character that i value most.

— anyway this is all to say that for the last week i’ve been asking myself aloud “what would a conscientious person do?” multiple times a day, really any time i find myself at a small crossroads where i have to make a small decision. do i pick up that piece of cardboard and put it in the recycling bin now or leave it till later? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i return that call from the plumber now or put it off until later? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i take two minutes to pay that $4 toll bill now or put it on the giant stack of “tasks i will definitely deal with when i’m in the mood to deal with them,” where it will inevitably become a $25 and then $50 bill because i forgot about it and now have to pay late fees? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i comment on that student’s draft now when i’d rather be on the couch scrolling through social media? (i could probably do it tomorrow, when i have another block of free time, but what would a conscientious person do?) i have no idea if it will work in the long term!! but it’s been an intriguing experiment so far, mostly because i think it is teaching me that many of the tasks i build up in my head as incredibly time-consuming are actually quite quick, and once you finish them you also free up all the mental energy you were putting into procrastinating on them, and are better able to move onto the next thing. i also feel like it is teaching me that uhh maybe a conscientious person is not like, a completely different species of human being, but just a person who has different habits or patterns of response to daily choices than i do. that feels important too: if we are what we repeatedly or habitually do, then changing what i habitually do can probably change the kind of person i am! i’m finding that there’s something very useful about the simplicity of the question, too. deliberately posing the question to myself interrupts my habitual, unconscious response (which is always some version of “i don’t have the energy to deal with that / don’t want to expend that energy right now -- i’ll put it off till later”) -- it requires me to stop and focus my attention on the present situation instead of sliding right past it without thinking about it. and there’s also something quite satisfying about framing it as a choice or a decision: i get to choose what to do, ie i get to exercise agency, and exercising agency makes your brain feel happy (we like to feel in control! we like making choices!). so throughout the day i get to experience lots of little bursts of whatever gets released in the brain when you make a decision and immediately follow through with it, and i think/hope that this kind of positive reinforcement is helping to strengthen those circuits and lay down the groundwork for new patterns of habitual response.

those are some thoughts this morning!! now i am going to allow myself a few minutes of sloth lol and then i’ll get up and exercise.

#mw #thinking aloud #long post

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